Happy New Year!!!! I am so glad it's 2011. I don't know if it's because of my determination to get back to the old me or if it's because of my fabulous New Year's weekend, but I am so happy and optimistic about everything right now. I know this will be a great year. I can just feel it!!! Warm fuzzies, everyone. I am Suzie Effing Sunshine right now!!!!!!
Sorry, I will take it down a notch.
But I have super awesome news!!!! And I need your help.
You see, there is (drumroll, please) Boy News. And true to form, I either messed up or I just completely do not understand the opposite sex. Still. * sigh * I know. But where would this blog be, if it weren't for my dating/hook-up antics?
New Year's Eve was just going to be another VB-sits-on-her-couch type of weekend, until I began to miss MJ and remembered that Mr. Bill was having a party. And what is New Year's for if not hanging out with old friends? So I told them I would come up. MJ informs me that Rocky (a member of The Rat Pack, if you remember those posts -- if you don't know what I am talking about, you should search for these posts in my archives) was coming to SC for New Year's Eve.
And he was bringing a buddy of his.
"Anyone I know?" I asked, ever-so-innocently.
"Nope, this one's a new one," she said.
Hmmm. He will probably be cute. Or at least fun. Definitely worthy of leg-shaving, I thought, as I packed a "boobie shirt" to wear when we went out for New Year's. [Side note: does anyone else call them "boobie shirts"? Or is it just me?]
Rocky's friends are always cute and fun. I was starting to get a little excited about this. So I went to bed kind of excited for my short drive the next day.
I arrived in Columbia just in time for a late lunch with MJ, Rocky and his friend, who I will dub NYE Guy. NYE Guy was cute, and extremely funny, as I soon found out. Later, I would discover that he is also kind of geeky (he likes to go to museums!) -- <3 Swoon <3
I started to get that feeling that it was going to be a great weekend. WOOT!
After eating, we went back to MJ's house and hung out for a bit before getting ready for Mr. Bill's party. I put on my boobie shirt and slapped on some extra eyeliner and heels. What? What was that? I felt kinda....hot. What a great feeling. It had been so long since I've felt that way. This feeling could best be described as the boring, depressed iceberg version of VB melting back into happy and exciting VB.
I was bringing sexy back.
So we head to Mr. Bill's. It was really great to see him, as well as a couple other people I knew. My only regret is that I didn't get a chance to talk to Mr. Bill as much as I wanted. So Mr. Bill, if you're reading this -- hi!!!! I spent most of my time at the party laughing with MJ, Rocky and NYE Guy, as well as a girl I will call "Other MJ" and her hilarious best friend who I will call Vietnam. We were our usual perverted selves, and there was a joke about empty beer bottles which even I cannot repeat. Hilarity and antics ensued, in other words.
Soon, it was almost time for the ball to drop. Rocky began asking everyone who they are kissing at midnight. I was sitting next to NYE Guy and when Rocky asked him, he turns to me and informs me that he wanted to kiss me. I giggled like a 12 year old. And so he did. And it was great.
Not long after, we all took the party to Art Bar, a fun bar in downtown Columbia. There was a masquerade theme happening there, so we had fun with all the masks laying around. NYE Guy and I kept sneaking away to dark corners to make out. Yay! So far, 2011 was rocking.
Fast forward to 4am, when I am still awake (!) and still in a good mood (!). But all good things must come to an end, and it was time to go home. So I drove MJ, Rocky, NYE Guy and Vietnam back to MJ's house. Shortly after that, NYE Guy and I are continuing our make-out session, and it was so much fun! He is so fun....sorry, I can't go into details.....no way to explain without being overly descriptive....ah, memories....where was I? Oh yes, so we didn't do anything R-rated or anything, but that was mostly due to the fact that it was 5am and we were exhausted! After messing around for a bit, he realized that we could just continue this the next night -- hooray for 3 day weekends!!! So we fell asleep....
...and picked up right where we left off in the morning when we woke up!
...but still did not *ahem* complete the transaction, if you get my drift. No worries. There was still another night to go! Yes. Best weekend ever.
He and I got up (at 1pm)and joined the others for food and then all 4 of us went to a museum. After that, we ate and then went back to MJ's to watch some movies. Soon, it was time for bed (YAY!) because the guys had to drive back to NYC the next day. I don't think I have ever been so excited to put on my jammies ever in my whole life. Especially with the hope that they would soon be removed by this yummy beefcake funny guy. So I get into bed while he's brushing his teeth. He climbs in and....
wants to spoon.
W.
T.
F.
Ok, fine, I can meet him halfway, I thought. I nestled in closer to him. Nothing. I made a little moan. Nada. Time for something a little more obvious, I thought. I grabbed his hand and put it on my boob. "Awesome," he said.
And then he promptly fell asleep.
Ok, yes, I know he was probably tired, but so was I. And since when do guys pick sleep over sex? This was so lame. When he started snoring in my ear, I gave up and fell asleep.
The guys left very early the next morning, so I went back to bed after saying goodbye in my sleepy haze. No smooching, even. This is so lame, I thought as I fell asleep.
When I got up, MJ and I decided to get breakfast and get a pedicure to debrief on the night. When I told her about my end of things, she tried her best to help me figure out a reason for my rejection, but we are both at a loss as to why he just wanted to spoon the 2nd night.
By the end of the day, he had friended me on facebook. 3 days later, I messaged him to thank him for posting all the great photos he took from that night. He replied right away and told me that he doesn't like messaging on FB and that I should text him. Cool! I thought. Maybe there is more?
I didn't have time to text him then, so I texted him the next night. I wish I could say that we had a super hawt flirty conversation, but no. We ended up talking about the weather. Why would you ask a girl to text you, only to talk about the weather??? Plus, it was one of those conversations where I felt like I was interviewing him. Hello! Conversations require questions from both parties! It's called "getting to know someone". So I took this to mean that he didn't want to get to know me. He's just not that into me. I get it. Fine. Closure. Done.
But then he texted me last night! To talk about beer! Who is this guy??? Argh!
Please feel free to weigh in with your opinions, because I am thinking of re-naming this guy Mr. Mixed Signals. I invited him and Rocky down here for St. Patty's Day. I guess we will see if they come down. Do you think he likes me but he's just bad at flirting? Should I be more obvious w/flirty texts??? Who am I kidding. This is classic Just Not That Into Me.
It's good that I am blogging right now, because it is preventing me from messaging him on FB. Must. Fight. Temptation. MJ thinks I am reacting like this because I haven't met anyone in a long time and I'm just overreacting. I don't know. All I know is that I was not done making out with him!!!! And he makes me laugh. A lot. *sigh*
Alright, here's the part that is (almost as) cool. Ever since our little make-out sesh, I have felt like sex on a stick. I think I just needed some validation or to break the ice or something. I feel like I have come back to life! I am happy, I feel like a hot babe, I suddenly have all this confidence. It's wonderful! I should be slutty more often. ;)
Which brings me to my New Year's Resolution:
The be sexier.....and slightly sluttier.
This is the BEST resolution ever. Because it's a way more fun way to diet and exercise. I have managed to fool my brain into thinking this is fun. I am fully embracing the Hot Girl Lifestyle. And it's so much fun! I went for a run yesterday -- over a mile! And it was great! My whole goal is to never be home -- Hot Girls are out busy doing stuff and meeting people. Oh crap. Hot Girls also go to bed by this time of night....unless they are making out. I should go, y'all.
2011 is gonna be a great year. I can feel it.
Showing posts with label boobs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label boobs. Show all posts
Sunday, January 09, 2011
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Classic VB Moment
Last Friday, things were pretty slow at work. A coworker and I were just messing around on the internet, and ended up looking at a photo of a topless woman. (No, I am not telling you what we were looking at, but it was NOT porn. I know you don't believe me, but oh well.)
My coworker pointed at the photo and said, "Look at that. Do you think they airbrushed her nipples out?"
Without skipping a beat, I replied, "Oh no. My nipples look just like that in photos."
*I realize what I just said, only too late.*
*awkward silence*
And then we both burst out laughing.
My coworker pointed at the photo and said, "Look at that. Do you think they airbrushed her nipples out?"
Without skipping a beat, I replied, "Oh no. My nipples look just like that in photos."
*I realize what I just said, only too late.*
*awkward silence*
And then we both burst out laughing.
Monday, June 09, 2008
Faux Pas Over Faux Pearls
I was working at Dildo's the other night. So far, so good. I'm still getting used to my crammed schedule, but my coworkers are nice and the work is pretty fun. Until I can "prove" myself as a salesgirl, I am currently working in the accessories department, awaiting permission to move over to the Clinique counter.
Nevermind that I already have 2 1/2 years of Clinique experience, working at the Dildo's across town. There's some new rule for everyone -- you have to go to a "regular" area and play Good Little Employee before you can go to a "specialized" area. Whatever. So for the time being, I help women shop for purses, jewelry, scarves, wallets, watches, sunglasses and hats.
Which isn't half bad, considering I love to shop for those things. So I get to shop vicariously through these women -- which is great for my bank account. I get all the fun of shopping and none of the buyer's remorse. It might not be the end of the world if they never move me to cosmetics, actually.
The other night, I was helping an older lady find a necklace to match her shirt. After some searching, we found the perfect one. I was ringing her up and chatting with her, when she said,
"Can I ask, are you expecting?"
She put this weird emphasis on "expecting". Almost like she was saying, "Why the hell aren't you announcing this to the world? Why are you hiding this fact, you modest young thing? Don't you know this is the greatest thing that could ever possibly happen to you in your entire life? You should be shouting it from the hilltops, like Maria Von Trapp."
Needless to say, I was stunned speechless. For once. You could almost hear the needle on the record player being ripped off. I froze.
This is not happening. I am not being mistaken for a pregnant woman. I am not that fat.
I am not.
I am not.
I am not.
FUCK. Am I?
*several blinks on my behalf*
*several blinks on her behalf*
We sat there, blinking at each other, while she grimaced and awkwardly gathered up her things to leave, and I smoothed my shirt down, subconsciously ensuring that no pillow had magically appeared under my top. What. The. Fuck.
Well, of course, you know what happened next: The Voices all woke up and turned their heads in unison to look at this old lady. And then, they all had to get their two cents in.
"Oh, no she di-dant!!!" yelled Bitch Mode, complete with index-finger-waving hand gestures.
"You should ask her if she's senile! That'll shut her up!" said Sarcastic.
"Well, I've been telling you for months that you have to do something about this weight you've been putting on. What do you expect?" sniped Inner Mom Voice.
"Oh my gawd!! You're a COW!!!" shrieks Hormonal. She runs away to sob into her hands. Hormonal is such a drama queen.
"Well, the way you an CN have been acting lately, who knows? Maybe you are!" giggles Pervert.
Horny is in stitches. The two of them make randy hand gestures and proceed to take turns cracking each other up with their obscene double entendres. The peanut gallery is in full swing. Great.
I roll my eyes.
"You really picked out a great necklace for her. Very stylish. I think The Czarina would like it, too. Let's go see if there's another one," observed Space Cadet, who proceeded to wander off.
Good Point chimed in: "Dude, everyone and their mother knows that is something you NEVER ask, unless you are 200% positive the woman is pregnant. And THIS is why that rule exists! She just made a HUGE social faux pas!!"
"Hmmm...I wonder if there are earrings that match....." mused Space Cadet. "You could make a set...."
"What was that??? Pregnant? Who said that? Who said the 'P' word? OMG! We have to get to a drugstore NOW, people!!" said Panic, heartbeat racing.
Good Point calmed Panic down and then added, "Look, I bet she feels worse than you do, running all over town with a big, fat mouth like that. Assuming things about people. She has her foot in her mouth right now. She was embarrassed, you know you could tell."
"But baby-doll tops are IN right now!!!" protested Single Girl.
"Yeah! There's nothing wrong with ruffles and empire waist tops! They're feminine!" agreed Prisspot.
"Yeah, but in the past, tops like that have been reserved strictly for expectant mothers," explained Overly Analytical. "There's a generational gap at play, here. Your fashion taste, while good, is confusing to the elderly."
"Well, if that's the case, there should be Public Service Announcements about this issue," Nerd said. "The public needs to be aware. Maybe we could call our Congressmen..."
"Maybe she just thought you would be a really good mom, and she was hoping you were!" Stupidly Optimistic gushed. "Or maybe she had you confused with the other lady in this department who IS pregnant!"
Sarcastic and Cynical gave her a look. She shut up.
"Oh, this is just great. For the last three months, ever since you started buying those tops, you have been running around town, causing people to think 'Aw, she's having a baby! Isn't that wonderful?' I mean, who knows how many people have thinking that!" lectured Pessimistically Paranoid, pacing in a circle.
Oh Jeez. What if the next time someone made this mistake, they do it in front of CN??? Oh, the mortification!!! I pondered the thought of chucking all my new tops in the trash, as soon as I got home that night. Cheapskate vetoed this idea. Single Girl backed her up, as did Prisspot. Damn. What am I going to do about these shirts? Buy a bunch of belts??
I was jolted out of my thoughts by Pessimistically Paranoid's ranting.
"I mean, if you look pregnant now, what are you going to look like when you really ARE pregnant?" she lamented.
"Babies are nice..." Space Cadet said to herself absentmindedly, as she looked at a rack of earrings.
Bitch Mode and Hormonal were whispering to each other and picking up the phone.
"Hey, what are you doing?" asked Pessimistically Paranoid.
"Duh. We're calling security to tell them that there's an old lady who just stole a necklace here in the store," they replied, snickering.
Cynical snorted. "That'll teach her!" she laughed.
Luckily, Bitch Mode and Hormonal were stopped from carrying out their plan by Logical. Sometimes, I think she's the only adult Voice.
Confident was no where to be found. I learned later that she was busy, lobbying for more gym time and fresh veggies in the fridge. And for once, I think most of the Voices listened to her. Even Hormonal, who tried really hard to cry on the way home, but just couldn't. Fashion choices aside, perhaps this was a wake-up call.
"Gah, you are now officially fat enough to be confused with a pregnant woman!!" cried Hormonal.
"Or maybe it's just because you have huge tits, just like most pregnant women do!" said Pervert.
"Or maybe she's just a rude, ignorant old bag," chimed Good Point.
Good point, indeed. Pass the brownies, will ya?
Nevermind that I already have 2 1/2 years of Clinique experience, working at the Dildo's across town. There's some new rule for everyone -- you have to go to a "regular" area and play Good Little Employee before you can go to a "specialized" area. Whatever. So for the time being, I help women shop for purses, jewelry, scarves, wallets, watches, sunglasses and hats.
Which isn't half bad, considering I love to shop for those things. So I get to shop vicariously through these women -- which is great for my bank account. I get all the fun of shopping and none of the buyer's remorse. It might not be the end of the world if they never move me to cosmetics, actually.
The other night, I was helping an older lady find a necklace to match her shirt. After some searching, we found the perfect one. I was ringing her up and chatting with her, when she said,
"Can I ask, are you expecting?"
She put this weird emphasis on "expecting". Almost like she was saying, "Why the hell aren't you announcing this to the world? Why are you hiding this fact, you modest young thing? Don't you know this is the greatest thing that could ever possibly happen to you in your entire life? You should be shouting it from the hilltops, like Maria Von Trapp."
Needless to say, I was stunned speechless. For once. You could almost hear the needle on the record player being ripped off. I froze.
This is not happening. I am not being mistaken for a pregnant woman. I am not that fat.
I am not.
I am not.
I am not.
FUCK. Am I?
*several blinks on my behalf*
*several blinks on her behalf*
We sat there, blinking at each other, while she grimaced and awkwardly gathered up her things to leave, and I smoothed my shirt down, subconsciously ensuring that no pillow had magically appeared under my top. What. The. Fuck.
Well, of course, you know what happened next: The Voices all woke up and turned their heads in unison to look at this old lady. And then, they all had to get their two cents in.
"Oh, no she di-dant!!!" yelled Bitch Mode, complete with index-finger-waving hand gestures.
"You should ask her if she's senile! That'll shut her up!" said Sarcastic.
"Well, I've been telling you for months that you have to do something about this weight you've been putting on. What do you expect?" sniped Inner Mom Voice.
"Oh my gawd!! You're a COW!!!" shrieks Hormonal. She runs away to sob into her hands. Hormonal is such a drama queen.
"Well, the way you an CN have been acting lately, who knows? Maybe you are!" giggles Pervert.
Horny is in stitches. The two of them make randy hand gestures and proceed to take turns cracking each other up with their obscene double entendres. The peanut gallery is in full swing. Great.
I roll my eyes.
"You really picked out a great necklace for her. Very stylish. I think The Czarina would like it, too. Let's go see if there's another one," observed Space Cadet, who proceeded to wander off.
Good Point chimed in: "Dude, everyone and their mother knows that is something you NEVER ask, unless you are 200% positive the woman is pregnant. And THIS is why that rule exists! She just made a HUGE social faux pas!!"
"Hmmm...I wonder if there are earrings that match....." mused Space Cadet. "You could make a set...."
"What was that??? Pregnant? Who said that? Who said the 'P' word? OMG! We have to get to a drugstore NOW, people!!" said Panic, heartbeat racing.
Good Point calmed Panic down and then added, "Look, I bet she feels worse than you do, running all over town with a big, fat mouth like that. Assuming things about people. She has her foot in her mouth right now. She was embarrassed, you know you could tell."
"But baby-doll tops are IN right now!!!" protested Single Girl.
"Yeah! There's nothing wrong with ruffles and empire waist tops! They're feminine!" agreed Prisspot.
"Yeah, but in the past, tops like that have been reserved strictly for expectant mothers," explained Overly Analytical. "There's a generational gap at play, here. Your fashion taste, while good, is confusing to the elderly."
"Well, if that's the case, there should be Public Service Announcements about this issue," Nerd said. "The public needs to be aware. Maybe we could call our Congressmen..."
"Maybe she just thought you would be a really good mom, and she was hoping you were!" Stupidly Optimistic gushed. "Or maybe she had you confused with the other lady in this department who IS pregnant!"
Sarcastic and Cynical gave her a look. She shut up.
"Oh, this is just great. For the last three months, ever since you started buying those tops, you have been running around town, causing people to think 'Aw, she's having a baby! Isn't that wonderful?' I mean, who knows how many people have thinking that!" lectured Pessimistically Paranoid, pacing in a circle.
Oh Jeez. What if the next time someone made this mistake, they do it in front of CN??? Oh, the mortification!!! I pondered the thought of chucking all my new tops in the trash, as soon as I got home that night. Cheapskate vetoed this idea. Single Girl backed her up, as did Prisspot. Damn. What am I going to do about these shirts? Buy a bunch of belts??
I was jolted out of my thoughts by Pessimistically Paranoid's ranting.
"I mean, if you look pregnant now, what are you going to look like when you really ARE pregnant?" she lamented.
"Babies are nice..." Space Cadet said to herself absentmindedly, as she looked at a rack of earrings.
Bitch Mode and Hormonal were whispering to each other and picking up the phone.
"Hey, what are you doing?" asked Pessimistically Paranoid.
"Duh. We're calling security to tell them that there's an old lady who just stole a necklace here in the store," they replied, snickering.
Cynical snorted. "That'll teach her!" she laughed.
Luckily, Bitch Mode and Hormonal were stopped from carrying out their plan by Logical. Sometimes, I think she's the only adult Voice.
Confident was no where to be found. I learned later that she was busy, lobbying for more gym time and fresh veggies in the fridge. And for once, I think most of the Voices listened to her. Even Hormonal, who tried really hard to cry on the way home, but just couldn't. Fashion choices aside, perhaps this was a wake-up call.
"Gah, you are now officially fat enough to be confused with a pregnant woman!!" cried Hormonal.
"Or maybe it's just because you have huge tits, just like most pregnant women do!" said Pervert.
"Or maybe she's just a rude, ignorant old bag," chimed Good Point.
Good point, indeed. Pass the brownies, will ya?
Monday, January 14, 2008
Babies R (Not) Us
Like many young women, I want to have kids one day. I'm thinking at least 3, maybe as many as 5. (Hey, I come from a big family, so this is normal to me.) And although I am absolutely positive I want to be a mother before I die, and I have a couple of names picked out, that is about as far as I'd taken this thought.
Until this weekend.
Don't freak out -- I'm not having a baby! *knocks on wood to be sure*
But lately, I can't seem to escape the thought of babies, and it's starting to wig me out. Let's make a list, shall we? Yes, let's. Because VB's heart rate is rapidly accelerating, and lists make her feel more in control of her world. Here we go.
1. I had a dream two nights ago that I was talking with an old friend about what it's like to be pregnant. We poked at her belly and discussed her due date. I think that in the dream, I was trying to get pregnant. Whoa.
2. Last week, CN and I were sitting on the couch watching Biggest Loser. I mentioned how it would be so easy to lose weight if you had kids, because you'd feel like you'd have a really good reason -- something to motivate you to live into old age. He replied, "Yeah, but you'll have kids one day. You should start being healthier now." (He's right, as usual.) He was visibly surprised to hear my answer: "No. I don't know if I'm going to have kids. It may not be in the cards for me." And I shrugged, because I am not one to count my chickens (or children?) before they hatch. And then I changed the subject, because the conversation was getting a little to "real" for me. I'm not ready to talk about that with CN yet. Heck, I'm not ready to talk to anyone about that!
2. CN and I were invited to a baby shower this past weekend. So we had to go pick out a present at Babies R Us, which, if you've never been, is like Wal-Mart, only it's filled with pregnancy/baby/toddler stuff. And it's FULL of women who look like this:
Now, I don't know if any of you have ever been in a giant room full of women who look like their water is about to break, unless you are an OB/GYN, but it is terrifying!!! I wanted to run up to each soon-to-be mom and play traffic cop: "Everyone! Now just back up! I need you to keep at least 10 feet back! She's gonna blow any minute!!!" I'm not kidding -- some of those women HAD to be at almost ten months of pregnancy. My fear of accidentally bumping into them and causing their water to break left me temporarily paralyzed. I didn't move an inch.
I looked around some more. There were approximately 7.3 billion baby items to purchase for your baby and/or your pregnancy. Now, unlike some women, my Baby Experience Resume is pretty extensive -- tons of babysitting, the oldest of 5 kids, lover of all things small and cute, oozing with maternal instinct, and a Master's degree in diaper changing.
But nothing, and I mean nothing, could prepare me for the Baby Bonanza that is Babies R Us.
There were these strap-things, which hold your big pregnant belly up. Like a giant seatbelt or something. I don't know. There were covers for your nipples. I don't know why nipples need covers, and I'm wondering if it's because they don't make bras big enough for pregnancy-sized boobs-- a terrifying thought. And I have never seen so many thermometer options in my life. Did you know that pacifiers come in sizes? Yeah. Neither did I.
Between the pregnant women, the bizarre baby items for sale, and the umpteen newborns in the building, my head began to spin. I looked over at CN. He was white as a sheet, and also seemingly cemented to the floor.
"Oh. My. God. There are pregnant women everywhere...." I trailed off, speechless with fear.
"Yeah. And babies," whispered CN.
"This is totally freaking me out. Let's get the hell outta here ASAP!" I said.
We printed off the registry, grabbed the closest thing in our price range (which happened to be a Breast Friend, a product I was actually familiar with) and practically ran to the register. On the way to the register, I explained to CN what a Breast Friend does, and he proceeded to make jokes about how he wants one so he can be my breast friend. Har. Har.
3. On the way to the baby shower, I realized that never in the History of Baby Showers has there only been one baby or one pregnant woman. There were going to be more. And I was right. CN and I walked into a nest of new mothers and fathers, all discussing their new babies and baby products and baby philosophies and organic baby food and....well, you get the picture. There were two babies in addition to the one being celebrated. There were baby-themed cakes, decorations and party favors. Everyone was coupled up, either engaged or already married. It felt like everyone was expected to either have a baby or want to have a baby before even walking through the front door. Like it was a requirement to attend.
It was so overwhelming, I completely forgot that I had a boyfriend. My inner Single Girl said, "Shit! I hate parties like this! I'm single and I can hear my biological clock ticking now more than ever! Why do they never invite more than one single girl to parties like this?? Don't they realize it's torture? Oh. Wait. I am here with someone...Right. Ok." And then I spent the rest of the party trying to see if there were any single girls there, so that I could introduce myself and comfort them. Old habits never die, I guess. Or perhaps I just don't see CN and I as a couple couple yet. Because we haven't been dating long enough to discuss the possibility of making a little VB or CN yet. Does that make sense? I dunno. It felt too soon for us to be in that room with all those.....baby people.
Consequently, I kept to myself and stuffed 3 chocolate-covered strawberries, 4 ounces of dip/chips, one brownie and 17 petit-fours down my gob.
PMS hormones + too many babies + weird baby items + freakishly swollen bellies + a party where I know no one = Time to eat.
Ugh. I am getting a headache just typing this.
Anyway, our gift was a hit, and many "Breast Friend" jokes ensued.
4. After the party, CN and I had hoped to return to the Land of the Childless by attending W's birthday get-together. No such luck. My friend Y was there, and she is about 6 months pregnant with her first child. And a couple was there with their 3 month-old little girl. She was adorable. And they let me hold her. And she was so little! And she had that powdery baby smell! And she stuck out her bottom lip when she cried! And we all cooed over her adorableness.
CN was watching me do all of this. I cooed to him about the cute baby. He said it was impossible to escape babies that day. I nodded and continued to coo.
"You don't want one, do you?" he asked, terrified.
"Oh my God, NO!" I shouted. CN had jolted me back to reality.
And that's when I realized that I really like the idea of having a baby and being a mother. Possibly even with CN. But the whole pregnancy and labor thing totally freaks me out, and I am nowhere close to being ready to have one any time soon!!!
I wish the stork story was true. Because that is the kind of pregnancy/labor I want! Just thinking about how scary labor must be and how pregnancy totally f**ks up your body makes me feel like I'm going to faint. Why can't a nice little bird just drop if off on your doorstep? This is much more logical to me. It also sounds cheaper, safer, faster and cleaner. Scientists should look into this and see if this is indeed a viable option.
I explained all of this to CN and told him that I can't wait to be a mom, because once the baby has arrived, I think I would like it, because I know what to do. It's the whole pregnancy/swollen belly/scary labor stuff that bothers me.
He totally disagreed, saying that the baby's arrival is when all of his fears would start!
I guess it's good to know that we are on the same page about all of this stuff. Kinda.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Quiz Answers
Alright, people. Let's go over the quiz answers before I announce the winner.
1. I have never been to California. I have never been west of Kansas, actually.
2. I have a seriously difficult time avoiding shoe sales or the makeup counters.
3. I have never been a telemarketer, because I hate telemarketers. If you answered this one incorrectly, perhaps you need to read this post.
4. My dogs are Boston Terriers. In case you don't know what that kind of dog looks like, here is a pic of my Sammy. And my boobs:
Now that you have seen my boobs, I don't want any whining about the lack of boobage on this blog.
5. I drive a piece-of-shit Pontiac. True to form, it is currently in the shop. As soon as I find a ride to the mechanic's after work, I can have my stupid car back (oh, the joy) for a measly $160. It's still cheaper than a car payment, I guess...
6. Not very many people got this one -- The name "Virginia Belle" is one of the nicknames my dad used to call me. That's where I got the name. NOT from the nudie girl. Major props to peeps who got this -- it has been mentioned a whopping ONE time in this blog's history. Gold stars for you!
7. Ok, ok, this was kind of a trick question. Do I like camping? Do I like the beach? No, and yes, respectively. But I would rather go to NYC than anywhere in the whole world. Yes, even Italy, which is something I never thought I'd say. Very few people got this one, either. So don't feel badly if you missed it.
8. I spent my undergrads at Indiana (Go Hoosiers!!) and then went to South Carolina for library school (so, yes, if you are a librarian, that means you did indeed go to grad school).
9. I eat the same thing for breakfast pretty much every morning. I am weird. I can play Tetris, Scattergories and Taboo for days on end. I am obsessive. I break out into a cold sweat when presented with brown crickets, diving or heights. I am a wuss. So that leaves A) I am a librarian and I love it. I cannot imagine doing anything else. NOT!!!!
10. And yes, I have dated a guy with three balls, a jerk who ate half my dinner and a guy who ended up being gay. Please, hold your applause. *takes a bow* And this may/may not have been a flawed question, as I cannot find any evidence in previous posts about the gay guy I dated in college. So if you were scratching your head on that one, my bad. I don't think I mentioned it. If you want the whole story, remind me to post it. My friends IRL (in real life) probably all know it, because they like to laugh at me, and this is a good factoid for that purpose.
So if you took the quiz (there were 27 of you, which makes me happy, because that is my favorite number), I am saying "Thank you! You are cool!" But I'm sure you are thinking, "Shut up and tell us who won!"
To which I reply: MJ cheated and signed up her dog to take the quiz, so that she could take it a second time, because she didn't get 100% the first time around. So actually, the winner of the quiz, with a perfect score of 100 is: Tater.
Don't let that face fool you -- he has an amazing ability to listen and remember things. And although he has never seen me naked, I'm sure he is rather ambivalent about the opportunity. He has already seen what I look like, although probably not well, since he has an eye condition. Naked pics or PG-rated pics would probably be the same to him. So unfortunately for my readers, my fractionally-anonymous clothed and/or nekkid body will remain internet-proofed. Um, as far as I know, anyway.
I had a good weekend, aside from my car acting up. The dashboard light lit up again. It says "Service Engine Soon" but it might as well say "You Drive a Piece of Shit". Anyway, it's fixed now, and waiting on me to go shell out $160 to pay for the "stuck open thermostat" which may be mechanic-speak for "my kid's braces". Ugh. How the hell can replacing one dinky thermostat cost so damn much?? I can buy a thermometer from the drugstore for about $5.00 -- cant' they just use that? I guess I should stop complaining. Normally, my repairs are about $300.
Let's move on, shall we? Ok. I'm trying to focus on the upside: CN is picking me up after work today to take me to go get my car. Aw, what a good boyfriend!! +500 points.
Speaking of him, he is involved in the highlight of my weekend. Without this highlight, my weekend would have been nothing but lazy slothdom: watching movies, eating candy, baking, cooking, board games, shopping, napping.....*yawn!*
Where was I? Oh yes. On Saturday, I went with CN to go meet up with his parents for lunch. We met each other halfway in-between Columbia (where CN and I are) and Barnwell (where CN's parents are). I am referring to the metropolis that is Neeses, SC. (Nudie pic for anyone reading this who has actually been to Neeses, SC -- pending evidentiary proof, of course.)
So we meet up in Neeses for lunch. Which is difficult to do, considering Neeses (pop. 407) is so small that there AREN'T any restaurants. Not even fast food ones. At first look, this might seem to be a stumbling block in our plans, but we do have a solitary dining choice: the grocery store.
Oh yes, you read that correctly. The Piggly-Wiggly in Neeses, SC has a built-in restaurant. They have fantastic soft serve ice cream! They serve breakfast, even! They have nightly specials! And senior citizen discounts! And greasy, laminated menus! And tables that are 25% smaller than they should be! As if this isn't enough, here is the kicker:
If you go to the meat department, and pick out something you want to eat (whether it's a steak or 20 chicken wings or 1 lb of ground beef), you can take it into the restaurant, and they will cook it for you AND give you a choice of baked potato or french fries for only an additional charge of...........drumroll, please...........$1.88!!!
This is, according to CN's dad, THE. COOLEST.THING. EVER. Which cracks me up, because my dad would have thought it was the coolest thing ever.
So we go to the meat department, and everyone selects a steak except me.
"Um, I'm kind of in the mood for a burger. They have burgers, right?" I mumbled sheepishly.
All three of them stopped dead, holding packages of raw meat in their hands. They turned to look at me in unison, shocked and awed that I am not rummaging through the steaks.
"But you can pick anything you want! Anything! And they will cook it!" said CN's dad, astonished.
"Oh, come on now, getcha a steak," said CN's mom.
"It's only $1.88, what's wrong with you?" said CN, teasingly.
"I'm just.....in the mood for a burger....is that ok?" I asked.
"Oh, but getcha a steak, now, come on," said his mom.
"You don't want a steak?" continued his dad, still amazed that I would want to eat something other than a steak. The man was seriously shocked, y'all. It was almost as if I'd told him I honestly believed the world was flat.
"But I don't want a steak. Am I allowed to get something other than a steak?" I whispered to CN.
"Of course you are. We just always get steaks. You can get a burger, too. But just pick up a steak. It will make my dad feel better," CN explained.
"You can take it home with you, it's no big deal. Just get both," his mother explained, under her breath.
As soon as I grabbed a steak, CN's dad seemed to feel a lot better. So when we ordered, I got a cheeseburger in addition to my steak.
Now, you might be thinking this is a really strange interaction. Why are three people telling a 28 year old woman what she should eat for lunch? That's absurd. And you would be correct in your beliefs. But I was strangely comforted by their insistence. Why? Because my father used to do the SAME THING to all of us when we were growing up. From the time I was in diapers, I would have to listen to his comments every time I ate:
"You're eating that? When we have leftover turkey? Oh, you should go get some of that turkey."
"Don't you want to put some pepper on that? You really should put some pepper on it."
"You're eating that all wrong. You can't put maple syrup on that. No one puts maple syrup on that. What's wrong with you? You are ruining it by putting maple syrup on it."
So I am used to having people tell me what I should eat/not eat and how to eat it "properly". I am also used to ignoring them and eating what I damn well please. :)
My dad died almost three years ago. I miss his food criticism. It was nice to hear it from someone. I like CN's parents. They are a lot like mine.
1. I have never been to California. I have never been west of Kansas, actually.
2. I have a seriously difficult time avoiding shoe sales or the makeup counters.
3. I have never been a telemarketer, because I hate telemarketers. If you answered this one incorrectly, perhaps you need to read this post.
4. My dogs are Boston Terriers. In case you don't know what that kind of dog looks like, here is a pic of my Sammy. And my boobs:
Now that you have seen my boobs, I don't want any whining about the lack of boobage on this blog.5. I drive a piece-of-shit Pontiac. True to form, it is currently in the shop. As soon as I find a ride to the mechanic's after work, I can have my stupid car back (oh, the joy) for a measly $160. It's still cheaper than a car payment, I guess...
6. Not very many people got this one -- The name "Virginia Belle" is one of the nicknames my dad used to call me. That's where I got the name. NOT from the nudie girl. Major props to peeps who got this -- it has been mentioned a whopping ONE time in this blog's history. Gold stars for you!
7. Ok, ok, this was kind of a trick question. Do I like camping? Do I like the beach? No, and yes, respectively. But I would rather go to NYC than anywhere in the whole world. Yes, even Italy, which is something I never thought I'd say. Very few people got this one, either. So don't feel badly if you missed it.
8. I spent my undergrads at Indiana (Go Hoosiers!!) and then went to South Carolina for library school (so, yes, if you are a librarian, that means you did indeed go to grad school).
9. I eat the same thing for breakfast pretty much every morning. I am weird. I can play Tetris, Scattergories and Taboo for days on end. I am obsessive. I break out into a cold sweat when presented with brown crickets, diving or heights. I am a wuss. So that leaves A) I am a librarian and I love it. I cannot imagine doing anything else. NOT!!!!
10. And yes, I have dated a guy with three balls, a jerk who ate half my dinner and a guy who ended up being gay. Please, hold your applause. *takes a bow* And this may/may not have been a flawed question, as I cannot find any evidence in previous posts about the gay guy I dated in college. So if you were scratching your head on that one, my bad. I don't think I mentioned it. If you want the whole story, remind me to post it. My friends IRL (in real life) probably all know it, because they like to laugh at me, and this is a good factoid for that purpose.
So if you took the quiz (there were 27 of you, which makes me happy, because that is my favorite number), I am saying "Thank you! You are cool!" But I'm sure you are thinking, "Shut up and tell us who won!"
To which I reply: MJ cheated and signed up her dog to take the quiz, so that she could take it a second time, because she didn't get 100% the first time around. So actually, the winner of the quiz, with a perfect score of 100 is: Tater.
Don't let that face fool you -- he has an amazing ability to listen and remember things. And although he has never seen me naked, I'm sure he is rather ambivalent about the opportunity. He has already seen what I look like, although probably not well, since he has an eye condition. Naked pics or PG-rated pics would probably be the same to him. So unfortunately for my readers, my fractionally-anonymous clothed and/or nekkid body will remain internet-proofed. Um, as far as I know, anyway.
I had a good weekend, aside from my car acting up. The dashboard light lit up again. It says "Service Engine Soon" but it might as well say "You Drive a Piece of Shit". Anyway, it's fixed now, and waiting on me to go shell out $160 to pay for the "stuck open thermostat" which may be mechanic-speak for "my kid's braces". Ugh. How the hell can replacing one dinky thermostat cost so damn much?? I can buy a thermometer from the drugstore for about $5.00 -- cant' they just use that? I guess I should stop complaining. Normally, my repairs are about $300.
Let's move on, shall we? Ok. I'm trying to focus on the upside: CN is picking me up after work today to take me to go get my car. Aw, what a good boyfriend!! +500 points.
Speaking of him, he is involved in the highlight of my weekend. Without this highlight, my weekend would have been nothing but lazy slothdom: watching movies, eating candy, baking, cooking, board games, shopping, napping.....*yawn!*
Where was I? Oh yes. On Saturday, I went with CN to go meet up with his parents for lunch. We met each other halfway in-between Columbia (where CN and I are) and Barnwell (where CN's parents are). I am referring to the metropolis that is Neeses, SC. (Nudie pic for anyone reading this who has actually been to Neeses, SC -- pending evidentiary proof, of course.)
So we meet up in Neeses for lunch. Which is difficult to do, considering Neeses (pop. 407) is so small that there AREN'T any restaurants. Not even fast food ones. At first look, this might seem to be a stumbling block in our plans, but we do have a solitary dining choice: the grocery store.
Oh yes, you read that correctly. The Piggly-Wiggly in Neeses, SC has a built-in restaurant. They have fantastic soft serve ice cream! They serve breakfast, even! They have nightly specials! And senior citizen discounts! And greasy, laminated menus! And tables that are 25% smaller than they should be! As if this isn't enough, here is the kicker:
If you go to the meat department, and pick out something you want to eat (whether it's a steak or 20 chicken wings or 1 lb of ground beef), you can take it into the restaurant, and they will cook it for you AND give you a choice of baked potato or french fries for only an additional charge of...........drumroll, please...........$1.88!!!
This is, according to CN's dad, THE. COOLEST.THING. EVER. Which cracks me up, because my dad would have thought it was the coolest thing ever.
So we go to the meat department, and everyone selects a steak except me.
"Um, I'm kind of in the mood for a burger. They have burgers, right?" I mumbled sheepishly.
All three of them stopped dead, holding packages of raw meat in their hands. They turned to look at me in unison, shocked and awed that I am not rummaging through the steaks.
"But you can pick anything you want! Anything! And they will cook it!" said CN's dad, astonished.
"Oh, come on now, getcha a steak," said CN's mom.
"It's only $1.88, what's wrong with you?" said CN, teasingly.
"I'm just.....in the mood for a burger....is that ok?" I asked.
"Oh, but getcha a steak, now, come on," said his mom.
"You don't want a steak?" continued his dad, still amazed that I would want to eat something other than a steak. The man was seriously shocked, y'all. It was almost as if I'd told him I honestly believed the world was flat.
"But I don't want a steak. Am I allowed to get something other than a steak?" I whispered to CN.
"Of course you are. We just always get steaks. You can get a burger, too. But just pick up a steak. It will make my dad feel better," CN explained.
"You can take it home with you, it's no big deal. Just get both," his mother explained, under her breath.
As soon as I grabbed a steak, CN's dad seemed to feel a lot better. So when we ordered, I got a cheeseburger in addition to my steak.
Now, you might be thinking this is a really strange interaction. Why are three people telling a 28 year old woman what she should eat for lunch? That's absurd. And you would be correct in your beliefs. But I was strangely comforted by their insistence. Why? Because my father used to do the SAME THING to all of us when we were growing up. From the time I was in diapers, I would have to listen to his comments every time I ate:
"You're eating that? When we have leftover turkey? Oh, you should go get some of that turkey."
"Don't you want to put some pepper on that? You really should put some pepper on it."
"You're eating that all wrong. You can't put maple syrup on that. No one puts maple syrup on that. What's wrong with you? You are ruining it by putting maple syrup on it."
So I am used to having people tell me what I should eat/not eat and how to eat it "properly". I am also used to ignoring them and eating what I damn well please. :)
My dad died almost three years ago. I miss his food criticism. It was nice to hear it from someone. I like CN's parents. They are a lot like mine.
Monday, October 08, 2007
Overexposed
Time: Yesterday afternoon
Place: Victoria's Secret
Yours truly was taking advantage of their fall sale.
After rummaging around in their totally unorganized bins (SO irritating to look through! What happened to the tables organized by size???), I had an armful of bras to try on. I headed to the dressing room.
Bra after bra was disqualified: too big, too small, too complicated, made my boobs look funny, not supportive enough...etc.
But the last bra....well, that was a different story. It was supportive, easy to put on, relatively comfortable, fit well......and it was dead sexy. A black lace bra, hot enough to put the rest of my bras to shame.
"Hmmm...." I thought, with a sly little smile on my lips. "I know someone who might like to see this...."
And I whipped out my cell phone. I was going to take a little preview pic and send it to CN via the wonders of modern technology.
"Click!" said the camera.
"*Giggle*" said I.
"Send!" said the button.
"Message sent!" said the phone.
I got dressed again and went out to get in line to pay. As I was leaving the store, I realized it had been a few minutes, and I hadn't heard from CN. Not to flatter myself, but I was expecting SOME kind of a reaction.
"Hmmm...maybe his phone isn't equipped to receive pictures, because he must have gotten it..." I thought. "Right???"
Oh.
God.
I quickly fumbled around in my purse, frantically searching for my phone. I grabbed it, opened it up and began looking at my text message history.
"Oh-my-gawd-if-I-sent-that-to-the-wrong-person-I-will-die!!!!" I thought.
WHEW. I sent it to CN and only CN.
So why hadn't he replied or reacted in any way??? I mean, I'm not taking jetty shots in the dressing room for my health! Argh.
I got home and began baking some pumpkin bread for CN's dad (he's sick, remember). I glanced out my kitchen window -- CN's friend The Runner was over at his house. They were probably watching football. By the time I had the pumpkin bread in the oven, The Runner had left.
My phone beeped -- I had a new text message from CN.
"Well, it's about time," I thought.
I opened the message:
"The Runner liked your boobs."
!!!!!
I figured he was kidding, so I told him he was in big trouble for showing the pic to The Runner. A little later, CN came over to get the pumpkin bread, and he filled me in on what had happened.
"Yeah, um, The Runner was helping me get my tv cables all figured out, because we were playing video games, and he was actually sitting RIGHT next to me when you sent that pic to my phone. I took my phone out of my pocket when you sent the pic. So um....he saw it. Kinda...." CN trailed off.
*shock and disbelief on my part*
"WHAT????!!!" I shouted.
"Oh, and I know he saw it, because he took one look at it and asked me: 'Um, do you need me to leave so you can take care of that?' " CN continued.
Oh.
My.
Gawd.
I turned beet red. I will never be able to look The Runner in the eye again. I began wailing at my own bad judgement. Stupid, stupid, stupid VB. Dumb idea. Dumb, dumb, dumb!!!!
"It's ok! Don't be embarrassed! It's not a big deal! Just give me a heads up next time, ok?" CN said, trying to make me feel better. "But hey, would you care if I set my phone so that's the photo that comes up on my phone every time you call me?"
Oh for Pete's sake.....
Place: Victoria's Secret
Yours truly was taking advantage of their fall sale.
After rummaging around in their totally unorganized bins (SO irritating to look through! What happened to the tables organized by size???), I had an armful of bras to try on. I headed to the dressing room.
Bra after bra was disqualified: too big, too small, too complicated, made my boobs look funny, not supportive enough...etc.
But the last bra....well, that was a different story. It was supportive, easy to put on, relatively comfortable, fit well......and it was dead sexy. A black lace bra, hot enough to put the rest of my bras to shame.
"Hmmm...." I thought, with a sly little smile on my lips. "I know someone who might like to see this...."
And I whipped out my cell phone. I was going to take a little preview pic and send it to CN via the wonders of modern technology.
"Click!" said the camera.
"*Giggle*" said I.
"Send!" said the button.
"Message sent!" said the phone.
I got dressed again and went out to get in line to pay. As I was leaving the store, I realized it had been a few minutes, and I hadn't heard from CN. Not to flatter myself, but I was expecting SOME kind of a reaction.
"Hmmm...maybe his phone isn't equipped to receive pictures, because he must have gotten it..." I thought. "Right???"
Oh.
God.
I quickly fumbled around in my purse, frantically searching for my phone. I grabbed it, opened it up and began looking at my text message history.
"Oh-my-gawd-if-I-sent-that-to-the-wrong-person-I-will-die!!!!" I thought.
WHEW. I sent it to CN and only CN.
So why hadn't he replied or reacted in any way??? I mean, I'm not taking jetty shots in the dressing room for my health! Argh.
I got home and began baking some pumpkin bread for CN's dad (he's sick, remember). I glanced out my kitchen window -- CN's friend The Runner was over at his house. They were probably watching football. By the time I had the pumpkin bread in the oven, The Runner had left.
My phone beeped -- I had a new text message from CN.
"Well, it's about time," I thought.
I opened the message:
"The Runner liked your boobs."
!!!!!
I figured he was kidding, so I told him he was in big trouble for showing the pic to The Runner. A little later, CN came over to get the pumpkin bread, and he filled me in on what had happened.
"Yeah, um, The Runner was helping me get my tv cables all figured out, because we were playing video games, and he was actually sitting RIGHT next to me when you sent that pic to my phone. I took my phone out of my pocket when you sent the pic. So um....he saw it. Kinda...." CN trailed off.
*shock and disbelief on my part*
"WHAT????!!!" I shouted.
"Oh, and I know he saw it, because he took one look at it and asked me: 'Um, do you need me to leave so you can take care of that?' " CN continued.
Oh.
My.
Gawd.
I turned beet red. I will never be able to look The Runner in the eye again. I began wailing at my own bad judgement. Stupid, stupid, stupid VB. Dumb idea. Dumb, dumb, dumb!!!!
"It's ok! Don't be embarrassed! It's not a big deal! Just give me a heads up next time, ok?" CN said, trying to make me feel better. "But hey, would you care if I set my phone so that's the photo that comes up on my phone every time you call me?"
Oh for Pete's sake.....
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Dinner with Time Bombs
If you've been reading my blog for a while, you know my friend (and now, roommate) E is dating a guy I refer to as B. It was B's birthday last week. So a group of us planned to go out to dinner.
Originally, we were going to go to B's favorite place -- The Flying Saucer -- on Friday after everyone got out of work. But on Tuesday, I was informed that it had been changed to Thursday night at Copper River. This change in plans sucked for several reasons:
1. I work on Thursday nights, so I had to find someone to work for me.
2. In order to get to Copper River in time for dinner, ALL of us had to drive in rush hour traffic.
3. Copper River's food sucks, whereas The Saucer's is pretty good.
But I didn't have much say, and one bad night wasn't going to kill me. Plus, E really wanted me to go for moral support. So I worked it out, and drove to meet everyone.
Through 30 minutes of rush hour traffic.
In the rain.
With broken windshield wipers.
Arg.
When I arrived, I was rapidly approaching irritated, to say the least. Who was there?
E&B, obviously.
Also Butter and her man, Country Boy
W & YB (aka Young Balls, her boyf)
Mr. & Mrs. Chemical (oh, the joy)
Two Face (B's little sister)
Me
Hmmm...but where was B's roommate, Rob Thomas? He was supposed to be bringing his new girlfriend. (This is going to be some event, huh?!)
It turns out, the whole reason we even changed all these dinner plans around was because Rob Thomas wanted to, for some scheduling conflict. Because that makes sense: it's not your birthday, and so you feel the need to inconvenience everyone else because of your schedule.
But oopsie! Rob forgot he had a softball game that night, so he wasn't going to be able to make it anyway. He called B to tell him this 15 minutes before dinner started.
Remember, it was raining. So the game was probably canceled. He was more than likely sitting on his couch because someone said he doesn't like to drive across town. WTF???
Ugh. The more I learn about him, the less I like him. What a douche.
Anyway, so we all sit down to dinner. Unfortunately, I sat at the end of the table with Mrs. Chemical and Two Face. Oh boy. Now I know why E wanted me there for moral support. I am the bitch blocker for the evening. So I immediately began to run interference and keep them away from E, at least conversationally. E wisely talked to B for most of dinner.
A little word about Two Face. Apparently, she met me one time a year ago, but I have NO recollection of this. I think her memory is slightly frightening. And while I have no personal reason to call her "Two Face", I have heard nothing but horrible things about her from several people. And these opinions were all offered to me confidentially and independently, by trusted friends of mine. What I've heard, in a nutshell: she's a hypocritical, Bible-beating liar who makes up things to make E look bad in front of B's parents. But to your face, especially if you don't know her, she's the nicest girl you'll ever meet. Wowza. I took a deep breath, smiled, and started with small talk.
Luckily, she and Mrs. Chemical were surprisingly pleasant to me. In fact, if I didn't have pre-conceived notions about both of them, I would have thought I'd made two new friends! I mean, we kinda had a good time....I think....
But in reality, it was more like having dinner with two grenades: I didn't know if/when they were going to explode and whip out their evilness on me. It was fairly stressful, sitting there with a fake smile plastered on my face. I didn't want to ruin B's birthday or cause any problems. Somehow, I made it through without a hint of awkwardness or bitchiness on anyone's part.
"Hmmm," I thought. "Maybe I was wrong about Mrs. Chemical, and she's just one of those people who has to warm up to you. And maybe Two Face is just misunderstood..."
I kept my thoughts to myself until after dinner, when I was alone with W.
"Um, am I crazy, or is Two Face a totally sweet girl?" I asked.
"Oh, no, she's pulled that one on you, huh?" W replied.
"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled.
"She does that around people she's just met. Little Miss Wonderful. Wait until you hang out with her some more. You'll start seeing the real Two Face," she explained.
Great. I can't wait.
"I'm sure. But what was weird was, even Mrs. Chemical was nice to me," I continued.
"Oh, you must not have seen the two of them whispering to each other after dinner. They were being totally snarky," she said.
I had gone to the bathroom after dinner, and must not have noticed. I nodded in understanding.
"Don't you think it's kind of weird that Mrs. Chemical got her hair dyed the same color as mine just a day after seeing my new hair color?" I asked.
"Oh my gawd. She saw you last Saturday, and just said she changed her color last Sunday. She did, didn't she? That's weird," said W.
(After pointing this coincidence out to several friends, one girl dubbed me "Trendsetter", so now I'm totally ok with it. At first I wanted to get in her face and shout, "Stop copying me!!")
Where was I? Oh yes, our less-than-average meals were over.
Everyone went home after dinner, except me, W and YB. The three of us hung out at the bar for a while. A bunch of YB's buddies arrived and we all had a good time. As we were hanging out, I began to notice how many men were there.
"W, this is awesome. It's a total man buffet in here! I mean, I'd heard good things, but now I know! I've just never had the opportunity to come up here at night. And this is just a Thursday! Imagine what a Saturday would be like! And there's all kinds of guys, too. Not just one kind!" I gushed.
"Ooh, yeah, there are a lot of guys in here, aren't there?" she replied. (I was momentarily taken aback at her temporary blindness to all things hunky. We were surrounded by waves of manly goodness!! Must be because of YB's presence. He was impairing her vision.)
I sighed with happiness. "Aah, a new place! I'm glad I wore this low cut top!" I thought. "Ugh, unless that's what Mrs. Chemical and Two Face were whispering about....actually, who gives a crap what they think. No one likes them. And I have great boobs."
Originally, we were going to go to B's favorite place -- The Flying Saucer -- on Friday after everyone got out of work. But on Tuesday, I was informed that it had been changed to Thursday night at Copper River. This change in plans sucked for several reasons:
1. I work on Thursday nights, so I had to find someone to work for me.
2. In order to get to Copper River in time for dinner, ALL of us had to drive in rush hour traffic.
3. Copper River's food sucks, whereas The Saucer's is pretty good.
But I didn't have much say, and one bad night wasn't going to kill me. Plus, E really wanted me to go for moral support. So I worked it out, and drove to meet everyone.
Through 30 minutes of rush hour traffic.
In the rain.
With broken windshield wipers.
Arg.
When I arrived, I was rapidly approaching irritated, to say the least. Who was there?
E&B, obviously.
Also Butter and her man, Country Boy
W & YB (aka Young Balls, her boyf)
Mr. & Mrs. Chemical (oh, the joy)
Two Face (B's little sister)
Me
Hmmm...but where was B's roommate, Rob Thomas? He was supposed to be bringing his new girlfriend. (This is going to be some event, huh?!)
It turns out, the whole reason we even changed all these dinner plans around was because Rob Thomas wanted to, for some scheduling conflict. Because that makes sense: it's not your birthday, and so you feel the need to inconvenience everyone else because of your schedule.
But oopsie! Rob forgot he had a softball game that night, so he wasn't going to be able to make it anyway. He called B to tell him this 15 minutes before dinner started.
Remember, it was raining. So the game was probably canceled. He was more than likely sitting on his couch because someone said he doesn't like to drive across town. WTF???
Ugh. The more I learn about him, the less I like him. What a douche.
Anyway, so we all sit down to dinner. Unfortunately, I sat at the end of the table with Mrs. Chemical and Two Face. Oh boy. Now I know why E wanted me there for moral support. I am the bitch blocker for the evening. So I immediately began to run interference and keep them away from E, at least conversationally. E wisely talked to B for most of dinner.
A little word about Two Face. Apparently, she met me one time a year ago, but I have NO recollection of this. I think her memory is slightly frightening. And while I have no personal reason to call her "Two Face", I have heard nothing but horrible things about her from several people. And these opinions were all offered to me confidentially and independently, by trusted friends of mine. What I've heard, in a nutshell: she's a hypocritical, Bible-beating liar who makes up things to make E look bad in front of B's parents. But to your face, especially if you don't know her, she's the nicest girl you'll ever meet. Wowza. I took a deep breath, smiled, and started with small talk.
Luckily, she and Mrs. Chemical were surprisingly pleasant to me. In fact, if I didn't have pre-conceived notions about both of them, I would have thought I'd made two new friends! I mean, we kinda had a good time....I think....
But in reality, it was more like having dinner with two grenades: I didn't know if/when they were going to explode and whip out their evilness on me. It was fairly stressful, sitting there with a fake smile plastered on my face. I didn't want to ruin B's birthday or cause any problems. Somehow, I made it through without a hint of awkwardness or bitchiness on anyone's part.
"Hmmm," I thought. "Maybe I was wrong about Mrs. Chemical, and she's just one of those people who has to warm up to you. And maybe Two Face is just misunderstood..."
I kept my thoughts to myself until after dinner, when I was alone with W.
"Um, am I crazy, or is Two Face a totally sweet girl?" I asked.
"Oh, no, she's pulled that one on you, huh?" W replied.
"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled.
"She does that around people she's just met. Little Miss Wonderful. Wait until you hang out with her some more. You'll start seeing the real Two Face," she explained.
Great. I can't wait.
"I'm sure. But what was weird was, even Mrs. Chemical was nice to me," I continued.
"Oh, you must not have seen the two of them whispering to each other after dinner. They were being totally snarky," she said.
I had gone to the bathroom after dinner, and must not have noticed. I nodded in understanding.
"Don't you think it's kind of weird that Mrs. Chemical got her hair dyed the same color as mine just a day after seeing my new hair color?" I asked.
"Oh my gawd. She saw you last Saturday, and just said she changed her color last Sunday. She did, didn't she? That's weird," said W.
(After pointing this coincidence out to several friends, one girl dubbed me "Trendsetter", so now I'm totally ok with it. At first I wanted to get in her face and shout, "Stop copying me!!")
Where was I? Oh yes, our less-than-average meals were over.
Everyone went home after dinner, except me, W and YB. The three of us hung out at the bar for a while. A bunch of YB's buddies arrived and we all had a good time. As we were hanging out, I began to notice how many men were there.
"W, this is awesome. It's a total man buffet in here! I mean, I'd heard good things, but now I know! I've just never had the opportunity to come up here at night. And this is just a Thursday! Imagine what a Saturday would be like! And there's all kinds of guys, too. Not just one kind!" I gushed.
"Ooh, yeah, there are a lot of guys in here, aren't there?" she replied. (I was momentarily taken aback at her temporary blindness to all things hunky. We were surrounded by waves of manly goodness!! Must be because of YB's presence. He was impairing her vision.)
I sighed with happiness. "Aah, a new place! I'm glad I wore this low cut top!" I thought. "Ugh, unless that's what Mrs. Chemical and Two Face were whispering about....actually, who gives a crap what they think. No one likes them. And I have great boobs."
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Are those Double Ds?
Yup. I'm at work. Again. So far, I've been at work each day of my vacation. It's really not a big deal unless I start thinking about it a lot. Let's move on to more interesting stuff before I get pissed off.
My shirt smells like purfume. Purfume that isn't mine. It's weird. I mean, it smells good, just foreign. I wonder what I was doing last time I wore this shirt. ( I don't wash something unless it's been worn a zillion times, has something on it or smells really bad. Sue me.)
Repo's friends were in town this weekend for a wedding. So I got to meet a bunch of them. They are a wild crew, let me tell ya. Friday night I didn't go to bed until 4am. We hung out with Repo's friend B and his girlfriend. They are cool. It turns out that B and Repo have this whole fashion competition going on. They both love to buy colored button-down shirts and matching ties. Most of the evening they kept describing potential wedding outfits to each other, trying to decide who had the coolest outfit in mind. They even had a debate about whether or not a lavender tie would match a pink shirt.
I swear, sometimes I think my boyfriend is gay.
The next day (yesterday), after working, I hung out at the pool with K for a while. Normally, I am pasty white because I don't want to look old before my time, but on an impulse, I laid out with her. I'm on vacation, goddammit, I thought. After an hour, I looked like a lobster. Not bad, but definitely pink. I don't think my stomach has seen the light of day in like 4 years. No joke. I forgot how good a tan looks, actually. I feel slightly hot-babe-ish. Not to mention slightly thinner. Aaaaah, the magic of melanoma.
The wedding was yesterday evening. Repo wasn't allowed to bring a guest, so I just told him I'd meet up with him after the reception. They were all planning to go to the bars later. Since I had lots of time to get ready, I made a nice dinner (whole-wheat pasta, Prego, shrimp and feta) and decided to get dressed up. I figured everyone would be in suits and ties, so I should look the part. I decided to audition my new red dress. The way it's designed, you can't wear a bra with it. So it's kinda low-cut. It did a good job at masking my new tan lines, too. Bonus: it's really really comfortable. It was so nice to look nice. I hadn't really gotten gussied up in a while. And if I do say so myself, I looked pretty smokin'. Repo agreed. I think this might be his new favorite outfit on me.
I got to the hotel where the reception was. I called Repo to see which room he was in, but then I figured that the loud group of people in the parking lot were probably with me. I was right. I looked over and waved to him.
Repo shuffled me around, yelling to all his friends, "Hey! Come here! I want you to meet my girlfriend!" He was so cute, running around after everyone, making sure I could meet them. He scored some points, I gotta say. He kept telling everyone how beautiful I was. I had to take it with a grain of salt since he'd been drinking. But hey, a compliment is a compliment.
We went inside to where the reception was wrapping up. Just to collect everyone for the after-party. I didn't want to go in because I wasn't invited and I was wearing red. Everyone reassured me that it was ok. And the happy couple left within minutes of us going inside. But I still felt like a wedding crasher. Oops. The bride probably saw me and thought, "Who in the hell does this bitch think she is?"
After much hemming and hawing, we decided to just stay in B's hotel room and party there rather than go the bars. Repo's friends are pretty funny and gave me a hard time. Actually, they all took turns giving each other a hard time, too.
I was put on the spot a couple of times by his (highly intoxicated) friend, Chief. Chief had been drinking for 11 hours straight at this point, so he was at the point that he didn't care what he said or who he offended. He kept asking me questions about my boobs. Then he asked Repo about my nipples and what sexual positions we prefer. I wanted to hide. I'm usually pretty good about taking jokes, but I was starting to get a little self-conscious. I wouldn't have felt that way if I knew everyone in the room, but I had just met all of them and now had to discuss my breasts. I was beginning to regret my wardrobe decision. But I think I was a pretty good sport. I like his friends, despite their drunken interrogations. I told Repo he owes me for that, though.
Since he and I were exhausted, we went home by 1:30. I didn't get up until noon. I am still exhuasted. And I'm not wearing that dress around drunk people ever again!
My shirt smells like purfume. Purfume that isn't mine. It's weird. I mean, it smells good, just foreign. I wonder what I was doing last time I wore this shirt. ( I don't wash something unless it's been worn a zillion times, has something on it or smells really bad. Sue me.)
Repo's friends were in town this weekend for a wedding. So I got to meet a bunch of them. They are a wild crew, let me tell ya. Friday night I didn't go to bed until 4am. We hung out with Repo's friend B and his girlfriend. They are cool. It turns out that B and Repo have this whole fashion competition going on. They both love to buy colored button-down shirts and matching ties. Most of the evening they kept describing potential wedding outfits to each other, trying to decide who had the coolest outfit in mind. They even had a debate about whether or not a lavender tie would match a pink shirt.
I swear, sometimes I think my boyfriend is gay.
The next day (yesterday), after working, I hung out at the pool with K for a while. Normally, I am pasty white because I don't want to look old before my time, but on an impulse, I laid out with her. I'm on vacation, goddammit, I thought. After an hour, I looked like a lobster. Not bad, but definitely pink. I don't think my stomach has seen the light of day in like 4 years. No joke. I forgot how good a tan looks, actually. I feel slightly hot-babe-ish. Not to mention slightly thinner. Aaaaah, the magic of melanoma.
The wedding was yesterday evening. Repo wasn't allowed to bring a guest, so I just told him I'd meet up with him after the reception. They were all planning to go to the bars later. Since I had lots of time to get ready, I made a nice dinner (whole-wheat pasta, Prego, shrimp and feta) and decided to get dressed up. I figured everyone would be in suits and ties, so I should look the part. I decided to audition my new red dress. The way it's designed, you can't wear a bra with it. So it's kinda low-cut. It did a good job at masking my new tan lines, too. Bonus: it's really really comfortable. It was so nice to look nice. I hadn't really gotten gussied up in a while. And if I do say so myself, I looked pretty smokin'. Repo agreed. I think this might be his new favorite outfit on me.
I got to the hotel where the reception was. I called Repo to see which room he was in, but then I figured that the loud group of people in the parking lot were probably with me. I was right. I looked over and waved to him.
Repo shuffled me around, yelling to all his friends, "Hey! Come here! I want you to meet my girlfriend!" He was so cute, running around after everyone, making sure I could meet them. He scored some points, I gotta say. He kept telling everyone how beautiful I was. I had to take it with a grain of salt since he'd been drinking. But hey, a compliment is a compliment.
We went inside to where the reception was wrapping up. Just to collect everyone for the after-party. I didn't want to go in because I wasn't invited and I was wearing red. Everyone reassured me that it was ok. And the happy couple left within minutes of us going inside. But I still felt like a wedding crasher. Oops. The bride probably saw me and thought, "Who in the hell does this bitch think she is?"
After much hemming and hawing, we decided to just stay in B's hotel room and party there rather than go the bars. Repo's friends are pretty funny and gave me a hard time. Actually, they all took turns giving each other a hard time, too.
I was put on the spot a couple of times by his (highly intoxicated) friend, Chief. Chief had been drinking for 11 hours straight at this point, so he was at the point that he didn't care what he said or who he offended. He kept asking me questions about my boobs. Then he asked Repo about my nipples and what sexual positions we prefer. I wanted to hide. I'm usually pretty good about taking jokes, but I was starting to get a little self-conscious. I wouldn't have felt that way if I knew everyone in the room, but I had just met all of them and now had to discuss my breasts. I was beginning to regret my wardrobe decision. But I think I was a pretty good sport. I like his friends, despite their drunken interrogations. I told Repo he owes me for that, though.
Since he and I were exhausted, we went home by 1:30. I didn't get up until noon. I am still exhuasted. And I'm not wearing that dress around drunk people ever again!
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Setting The Record Straight
Just in case you are as bored as I am and you Google me, you need to know that the following people are not me:
This VB (Anyone who knows me personally will laugh when they see what this girl's about! Same name, yet my total opposite!) is not me--she appears to be brunette, for Pete's sake.
This VB isn't me either. Although some people think I am part Asian, I assure you I am 100% Honkey. Plus, I am not all that into photography.
Although I am quite fond of my boobs, I can most definitely assure you that I am not a topless model from the 1950s. [Warning: this link is not appropriate for work or children.]
I did not just die in March. I am not from Nebraska. Please don't call me "Virgie".
But I did learn that there is a song about me. And I must say, I am flattered.
This was kinda fun. Anyone else have funny Google hits?
This VB (Anyone who knows me personally will laugh when they see what this girl's about! Same name, yet my total opposite!) is not me--she appears to be brunette, for Pete's sake.
This VB isn't me either. Although some people think I am part Asian, I assure you I am 100% Honkey. Plus, I am not all that into photography.
Although I am quite fond of my boobs, I can most definitely assure you that I am not a topless model from the 1950s. [Warning: this link is not appropriate for work or children.]
I did not just die in March. I am not from Nebraska. Please don't call me "Virgie".
But I did learn that there is a song about me. And I must say, I am flattered.
This was kinda fun. Anyone else have funny Google hits?
Thursday, June 01, 2006
The Hypocrite (revised and expanded edition)
I found Repo's Myspace page today. I wasn't stalking my boyfriend. I am not a psychotically jealous person. But Navy Guy said that Repo had a page, so I thought I'd look it up to see what he has on it. It was simple curiosity. I was not aware that he had a page. I wanted to read it. Maybe leave a comment or email him. Just to say hi. Excited that he and I could start communicating even more. Thinking it would be a fun way for us to meet each others' friends. So I find it.
One of his "friends" is some 19 year old blonde girl I've never heard of. She lives here in town. That's her, in the photo. Notice how she is grabbing her own boobs. I would have put up the photo she has of her ass but I didn't think that was appropriate. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this. The thing is, it's not that I have a problem with him talking to her. I don't feel comfortable telling him what he can and can't do. What bothers me is that I have never heard of her, which makes me think he is hiding something. Plus, Sassafras (thank you, dear) reminded me that Repo once said "Myspace is stupid. I hate all that stuff."
It turns out he's had a Myspace page since February.
I'm sure there is a logical explanation. I don't think anything is going on. I hope. She's probably just a friend. Right? I mean, he spends almost all his free time with me. But I've never heard of Katie. I am at least familiar with all the other friends he has listed. Except the other girl, but she's not grabbing her boobs--she's wearing normal clothes and looks very unthreatening. Plus, she's not his type.
But I didn't want him to think that I was checking up on him or that I don't trust him or something. So I emailed him a short email, explaining how I found him (through Navy Guy's friends) and making a mild joke about Tits McGee up there. And I left it at that.
(Side note: his Myspace page is not dead. He just logged in a couple days ago.)
Knowing me, he told me about his Myspace page and I have forgotten.
He doesn't know about this blog.
But I'm not talking to strange men who live in town and grab their crotches, either.
I'm thinking about telling him about my blog.
And I really can't say anything about what he does on his Myspace page, because I have this secret blog. I am such a hypocrite.
Curiosity killed the cat. I can feel my stomach churning over this. I want to cry right now.
Advice? Opinions? I want to bring this up, but I'm afraid he will think I'm being psycho-stalker girlfriend. But how can I not bring it up? It might be a couple of days before he even checks his Myspace page. I don't think I can wait that long.
Monday, March 06, 2006
The Party
Wow. I had a great weekend.
Friday night, The Girls wanted to take Brunette out to dinner for her birthday. After giving up on some restaurants with two-hour-plus (!) waits, we decided to go to Willy's Foxfire Grill, one of my favorite restaurants in Columbia. I went to dinner with K, Brunette, Blonde Nurse and Blonde's roommate, The Accountant. It was good to have some girltalk. We caught up on our love lives, our mutual friends and our jobs over apple martinis (and my diet coke!). The Accountant is such a good flirt, she scored us a free appetizer from the cute manager!
After dinner, Repo came over and hung out for a while. He had a loooong day. He worked 12 hours and made over 300 phone calls! I hope he finds a new job soon, because I worry about him. He hates his job so much! But the good thing was, his store made their monthly goal, so they will all get a nice bonus.
Saturday was Party Day. K and I ran errands and shopped all day. We got plenty of beer, mixers and liquor. She cleaned up the apartment and hung a few pictures, including a big shot of this famous photo over our couch. K stated that it is like mistletoe for our couch. :) Meanwhile, I cooked. We had chocolate/peanut butter chip cookies, homemade salsa and cocktail weiners in barbeque sauce. Mmmmm!
Soon people started to arrive, and I got some overdue birthday presents. (My friends are so nice!) Some of my guests also brought more food: Brunette's chili dip was a hit and Nurse P brought a birthday cake for Brunette. Repo and Big Poppa brought even more alcohol and some shot glasses. We all ate and drank a lot. (I myself was stationed at my new blender, trying to remember how to make Bellinis while drinking 4 gallons of diet coke to stay awake and gorging on the birthday cake!) Turns out I should have had some peach schnapps on hand...I was using some peach-flavored vodka, which didn't work as well.
Brunette got trashed on a drink she discovered on a trip to Miami: raspberry-flavored rum, Sprite and Hawaiian Punch. She had a great time, actually. There was a running joke all night about her boobs, since her top was really, really low-cut. At first, we just poked her boobs to tease her. Then we began taking bets as to which one would fall out first. But we started to stick dollar bills down her cleavage eventually. She made $6.00 by the end of the night!
K kept wearing the oven mitts for some reason, which was really funny. (I think it was because she was drinking out of a bottle of red champagne and it was too cold to hold it without some kind of glove.) At one point in the evening, she teased Repo, who retaliated by smearing french onion dip all over her face! It was hysterical and I'm so glad I got it on film!
Eventually, we all transferred the party and went to Local's, where we got Brunette up on the bar to take a shot poured into her mouth by the cute bartender. (That is the standard birthday ceremony at Local's.) It's nice living 10 minutes from the bars.
While we were there, drinking and dancing, Mrs. Basketball (a friend of Brunette's who is also a friend of mine) turns to Repo and I and asks point-blank, "So, are you two having sex yet?" Repo turned away, trying to stay out of this awkward conversation, leaving me to fend for myself. I can't say I blame him--it was my friend who asked the nosy question. He didn't know her and didn't want to say anything wrong, so I told Mrs. Basketball that it really wasn't any of her business because that was a rather personal question. I was pretty shocked at her behavior--usually she is really fun and not the nosy type at all. She instantly felt terrible and I felt even more awkward at answering so rudely. But talk about being caught off-guard! That is girltalk, if even mentioned at all!
She told me later, after apologizing, that the only reason she even asked was because she could tell there was so much chemistry between me and Repo that it would probably be amazing if we took that step. Gee, thanks for your opinion. Needless to say, that explanation didn't make it any less awkward. So I'm blaming the bellinis and letting it roll off my back.
Some people make it very hard not to kiss and tell! Usually I'm really open about stuff, but as I get older, I try to keep personal stuff more personal. I'm a lot better than I used to be, although Stuckey seems to think that I divulge quite a bit about Repo on here! I'm going to keep trying to remain discreet, though, out of respect for Repo. I am pretty sure he wouldn't like me spouting off all the time about what goes on between us. So I'll stick to PG-related topics when it comes to him. Well, I'll try, anyway.
We ended up closing Local's, and most of the group went home, so only a handful went to Repo's house for the "afterparty". Repo's roommates were out of town that night, so he had to let the dogs out anyway. We stayed up for about an hour and then crashed around 3am. Whew!
Yesterday, K and I cleaned up the kitchen and living room. She went to hang with her family and I managed to clean up my room. It helped that the Oscars were on so I had something to watch while cleaning up! Then I went to Repo's for dinner and crashed in my bed, exhausted, around 11!
Friday night, The Girls wanted to take Brunette out to dinner for her birthday. After giving up on some restaurants with two-hour-plus (!) waits, we decided to go to Willy's Foxfire Grill, one of my favorite restaurants in Columbia. I went to dinner with K, Brunette, Blonde Nurse and Blonde's roommate, The Accountant. It was good to have some girltalk. We caught up on our love lives, our mutual friends and our jobs over apple martinis (and my diet coke!). The Accountant is such a good flirt, she scored us a free appetizer from the cute manager!
After dinner, Repo came over and hung out for a while. He had a loooong day. He worked 12 hours and made over 300 phone calls! I hope he finds a new job soon, because I worry about him. He hates his job so much! But the good thing was, his store made their monthly goal, so they will all get a nice bonus.
Saturday was Party Day. K and I ran errands and shopped all day. We got plenty of beer, mixers and liquor. She cleaned up the apartment and hung a few pictures, including a big shot of this famous photo over our couch. K stated that it is like mistletoe for our couch. :) Meanwhile, I cooked. We had chocolate/peanut butter chip cookies, homemade salsa and cocktail weiners in barbeque sauce. Mmmmm!
Soon people started to arrive, and I got some overdue birthday presents. (My friends are so nice!) Some of my guests also brought more food: Brunette's chili dip was a hit and Nurse P brought a birthday cake for Brunette. Repo and Big Poppa brought even more alcohol and some shot glasses. We all ate and drank a lot. (I myself was stationed at my new blender, trying to remember how to make Bellinis while drinking 4 gallons of diet coke to stay awake and gorging on the birthday cake!) Turns out I should have had some peach schnapps on hand...I was using some peach-flavored vodka, which didn't work as well.
Brunette got trashed on a drink she discovered on a trip to Miami: raspberry-flavored rum, Sprite and Hawaiian Punch. She had a great time, actually. There was a running joke all night about her boobs, since her top was really, really low-cut. At first, we just poked her boobs to tease her. Then we began taking bets as to which one would fall out first. But we started to stick dollar bills down her cleavage eventually. She made $6.00 by the end of the night!
K kept wearing the oven mitts for some reason, which was really funny. (I think it was because she was drinking out of a bottle of red champagne and it was too cold to hold it without some kind of glove.) At one point in the evening, she teased Repo, who retaliated by smearing french onion dip all over her face! It was hysterical and I'm so glad I got it on film!
Eventually, we all transferred the party and went to Local's, where we got Brunette up on the bar to take a shot poured into her mouth by the cute bartender. (That is the standard birthday ceremony at Local's.) It's nice living 10 minutes from the bars.
While we were there, drinking and dancing, Mrs. Basketball (a friend of Brunette's who is also a friend of mine) turns to Repo and I and asks point-blank, "So, are you two having sex yet?" Repo turned away, trying to stay out of this awkward conversation, leaving me to fend for myself. I can't say I blame him--it was my friend who asked the nosy question. He didn't know her and didn't want to say anything wrong, so I told Mrs. Basketball that it really wasn't any of her business because that was a rather personal question. I was pretty shocked at her behavior--usually she is really fun and not the nosy type at all. She instantly felt terrible and I felt even more awkward at answering so rudely. But talk about being caught off-guard! That is girltalk, if even mentioned at all!
She told me later, after apologizing, that the only reason she even asked was because she could tell there was so much chemistry between me and Repo that it would probably be amazing if we took that step. Gee, thanks for your opinion. Needless to say, that explanation didn't make it any less awkward. So I'm blaming the bellinis and letting it roll off my back.
Some people make it very hard not to kiss and tell! Usually I'm really open about stuff, but as I get older, I try to keep personal stuff more personal. I'm a lot better than I used to be, although Stuckey seems to think that I divulge quite a bit about Repo on here! I'm going to keep trying to remain discreet, though, out of respect for Repo. I am pretty sure he wouldn't like me spouting off all the time about what goes on between us. So I'll stick to PG-related topics when it comes to him. Well, I'll try, anyway.
We ended up closing Local's, and most of the group went home, so only a handful went to Repo's house for the "afterparty". Repo's roommates were out of town that night, so he had to let the dogs out anyway. We stayed up for about an hour and then crashed around 3am. Whew!
Yesterday, K and I cleaned up the kitchen and living room. She went to hang with her family and I managed to clean up my room. It helped that the Oscars were on so I had something to watch while cleaning up! Then I went to Repo's for dinner and crashed in my bed, exhausted, around 11!
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