Ugh. Going to the gym now makes me want to barf.
Not because working out really hard makes me barf, although that is true.
Not because I'm hating the whole process of getting back in shape -- on the contrary, I am excited about it.
What makes me want to barf when I go to the gym is the fact that every time I cross the threshold, I now risk running into any or ALL of the following former romantic interests*:
Dr. Seuss (a guy I used to date who ended up being a total wack job)
Fed Sucksy (a guy I used to date who stood me up, only to refuse to apologize or explain later-- asshole!)
Small World Guy (a guy I sorta dated for a bit, but there was no spark)
and the two newest additions--
Hot Neighbor (who has moved, btw) and.....
Repo.
Hoo-fuckin'-ray. It's official -- every guy I have dated or liked in this town now goes to my gym. I saw HN there 3 days ago and then ran into Repo last night. Oh. The. Joy.
Look, I know Columbia isn't that big of a city, but DAMMIT does everyone have to join my gym? There are several other gyms they can go to!!!! The true irony is that the only guy I want to see at the gym, CN, goes to a different gym than I do.
What used to be my aerobic oasis, my sanctuary of sweat, has now become a place of dread and awkwardness. It is only a matter of time until I do something to embarrass myself in front of one of them. I have never been known for my athletic abilities, let alone my coordination. I work out with dirty hair, little makeup and old t-shirts! This is not the way I want to look in front of former flames! AAARRRGH.
Oh well. I guess this should motivate me to work out extra-hard, right?
Maybe they are all stalking me. Ha ha!
Ok, yeah, that's probably not the case. I just have bad luck.
My membership runs out in a year. I am counting down the days.
* If you want the back story on these guys, just search this blog for their names. Or click on the tags below.
Showing posts with label hot neighbor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hot neighbor. Show all posts
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Friday, August 31, 2007
Fun Friday!
No, I haven't talked to Cute Neighbor yet. I'm pretty good at procrastinating, huh? I will do it. I promise. Hey! Why don't you believe me??? :)
Oh, and remember how Hot Neighbor and Hoochie McSkankerton supposedly broke up? Yeah, she was over at his house last night. So he can bite me. I am over it. All efforts will now be focused on Cute Neighbor, as Hot Neighbor apparently has no clue what the hell he wants. Either that, or he's got Jerry Maguire syndrome, ie, he cannot be alone.
For Fun Friday today, I present to you some videos from this cool show my coworker, LK, has gotten me hooked on. His name is Derren Brown, and he is this magician/psychologist/hypnotist type of guy. He does the most amazing things on his show. Check out two of my favorites.
If this guy is for real, he's totally amazing! His show is nothing but crazy mind-f**ks like this.
This series of videos (there are 5 total, I think) are the silliest, most random things I've ever seen. And they make me howl with laughter every time I watch them. MJ and I love to sing the theme song.
And if you love hot pockets as much as I do, then we have something in common with Jim Gaffigan.
Have a nice, long weekend, guys! Hopefully, this time tomorrow, I'll be tailgating at the game with CN...
Can someone remind me to post the story about dinner last night??? Preview: I am apparently a trend setter, Rob Thomas is a douchebag...and I discovered a Man Buffet. So, um, stay tuned.
Oh, and remember how Hot Neighbor and Hoochie McSkankerton supposedly broke up? Yeah, she was over at his house last night. So he can bite me. I am over it. All efforts will now be focused on Cute Neighbor, as Hot Neighbor apparently has no clue what the hell he wants. Either that, or he's got Jerry Maguire syndrome, ie, he cannot be alone.
For Fun Friday today, I present to you some videos from this cool show my coworker, LK, has gotten me hooked on. His name is Derren Brown, and he is this magician/psychologist/hypnotist type of guy. He does the most amazing things on his show. Check out two of my favorites.
If this guy is for real, he's totally amazing! His show is nothing but crazy mind-f**ks like this.
This series of videos (there are 5 total, I think) are the silliest, most random things I've ever seen. And they make me howl with laughter every time I watch them. MJ and I love to sing the theme song.
And if you love hot pockets as much as I do, then we have something in common with Jim Gaffigan.
Have a nice, long weekend, guys! Hopefully, this time tomorrow, I'll be tailgating at the game with CN...
Can someone remind me to post the story about dinner last night??? Preview: I am apparently a trend setter, Rob Thomas is a douchebag...and I discovered a Man Buffet. So, um, stay tuned.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
The Voices Are Back
It's 11:30pm. I am walking from my car to my house. I have just gotten home from hanging out with E&B and Butter and some other people. Because SC is currently under round-the-clock heat index warnings, I have on a sundress. It's the only thing in my wardrobe that can stand the steamy, 83 degree evenings. Out of the corner of my eye, something moves.
Panic: Jeezus! What was that?!!
It was Hot Neighbor. He scared the crap out of me. What the hell is he doing, checking his mailbox at 11:30 at night?
Confident: He's trying to talk to you. Duh.
Me: Good grief, you scared the heck out of me! [ed. note: He apparently goes to church. I gotta watch my F-bombs. It feels strange to say "heck" and "good grief".]
HN: Oh, hey neighbor!
Cynical: He doesn't even know your name. How pathetic. Has he even spoken your name once?
The Voices shake their heads and look at the ground. Shy whimpers, "It's all my fault!" and runs away.
HN: Look at you, all dressed up! What'd you do tonight?
Panic: SHIT! What do we do??
Confident: Sweet! He noticed the dress! Good call, Single Girl!
Single Girl: I aim to please.
Shy: Oh, I knew that dress was too short! And did you have to wear the heels?? Now we have to talk to him!! Ack! We are not prepared for this!!!!
Cynical: I love how he doesn't know your name, but suddenly wants to talk to you when he sees you in a short dress. Classic.
Practical: Dude, I'm tired. Clayton kicked your ass at the gym. Can't we just go to bed? Your arms and shoulders are aching.
Single Girl: Quick! Think of something to say! Something witty! And go walk over to him! Cue the flirting!!!!
Shy: What are you smoking, Single Girl? In order to flirt, we need adequate mental preparation time. We should just say goodnight and go to bed.
Horny: Oh, shit! Did he just come back from the gym? Because he's all......sweaty!
Pervert: Quick! Take a picture!
Single Girl: Damn, he looks good in that tshirt. Nice biceps....
Space Cadet: I'm hungry.
Pessimistically Paranoid: Wait a second. It's 11:30 and he's just now getting home? Where has he been? I bet he was at Hoochie's house all night! I bet those beads of sweat are from--
Overly Analytical: Dude, don't go there. We do not need to be adding to her inferiority complex. He was probably out with some friends and then went to the gym.
Shy: Yeah, it's hard enough just standing out here and talking to him. Don't put ideas in her head.
Me: Oh, just to hang out with some friends. It was my friend's boyfriend's birthday, so we all got together.
Single Girl: Why are you still standing on your steps? Go over there!
Inner Mom Voice: No, he should be coming over HERE. You are worth some effort. Don't make a fool of yourself, wandering across the yards to go talk to him. And stand up straight.
Cynical: Excellent flirting. Maybe you can go down the list of what he got for his birthday. That's hot. He'll totally ask you out if your friend got cool stuff for his birthday.
Me: Yeah, he got a grill and an apron and...
The Voices: SHUT UP! What are you doing????
HN: Oh. That's great! Did you guys go out to eat, or...?
Me: Yeah, well, they did. I got there too late. But we had fun. *smiles*
Cynical: OMG, it's 11:30pm and you two happen to run into each other, and THIS is all he can think to talk about?? Wake me up when he's asked you out. *snores*
Panic: Dude, this is not going well. Abort!
Good Point: No, Hot Neighbor needs to step up to the plate and see what you're doing on Friday night. This small talk is just wasting everyone's time.
The Voices nod in agreement. "Wait, why are we out here?" someone asks.
HN: *just kind of stands there*
Panic: RUN!!!!!
Me: Ok, well, have a good night! *runs inside*
I shut the door behind me. Sammy greets me. He has no idea how pathetic his owner is, so he wags his little tail stump in approval.
Shy: Oh, thank God. It is so good to be safe and inside.
Cynical: Another fabulous performance. Way to go.
Single Girl: You are dead to me.
Horny and Pervert are kicking Panic and shouting, "Stop doing that! Stop doing that! You ruin it every time!!!" Panic is on the ground, rolling in agony from the pain of their pointy shoes.
Stupidly Optimistic: Maybe he'll come over and knock on the door and ask you out!!
Cynical: Are you high? She just blew him off.
Practical: Well, really, what was the point? He wasn't going to cut to the chase.
Impatient: It's 11:30. Some of us have to work in the morning. We can't go over every detail of the evening, hoping he'll ask us out sometime before 3am.
Overly Analytical: You know, you've really got to get over this fear of dating or you really will be alone forever.
Me: *sighs* I know.
Panic: Jeezus! What was that?!!
It was Hot Neighbor. He scared the crap out of me. What the hell is he doing, checking his mailbox at 11:30 at night?
Confident: He's trying to talk to you. Duh.
Me: Good grief, you scared the heck out of me! [ed. note: He apparently goes to church. I gotta watch my F-bombs. It feels strange to say "heck" and "good grief".]
HN: Oh, hey neighbor!
Cynical: He doesn't even know your name. How pathetic. Has he even spoken your name once?
The Voices shake their heads and look at the ground. Shy whimpers, "It's all my fault!" and runs away.
HN: Look at you, all dressed up! What'd you do tonight?
Panic: SHIT! What do we do??
Confident: Sweet! He noticed the dress! Good call, Single Girl!
Single Girl: I aim to please.
Shy: Oh, I knew that dress was too short! And did you have to wear the heels?? Now we have to talk to him!! Ack! We are not prepared for this!!!!
Cynical: I love how he doesn't know your name, but suddenly wants to talk to you when he sees you in a short dress. Classic.
Practical: Dude, I'm tired. Clayton kicked your ass at the gym. Can't we just go to bed? Your arms and shoulders are aching.
Single Girl: Quick! Think of something to say! Something witty! And go walk over to him! Cue the flirting!!!!
Shy: What are you smoking, Single Girl? In order to flirt, we need adequate mental preparation time. We should just say goodnight and go to bed.
Horny: Oh, shit! Did he just come back from the gym? Because he's all......sweaty!
Pervert: Quick! Take a picture!
Single Girl: Damn, he looks good in that tshirt. Nice biceps....
Space Cadet: I'm hungry.
Pessimistically Paranoid: Wait a second. It's 11:30 and he's just now getting home? Where has he been? I bet he was at Hoochie's house all night! I bet those beads of sweat are from--
Overly Analytical: Dude, don't go there. We do not need to be adding to her inferiority complex. He was probably out with some friends and then went to the gym.
Shy: Yeah, it's hard enough just standing out here and talking to him. Don't put ideas in her head.
Me: Oh, just to hang out with some friends. It was my friend's boyfriend's birthday, so we all got together.
Single Girl: Why are you still standing on your steps? Go over there!
Inner Mom Voice: No, he should be coming over HERE. You are worth some effort. Don't make a fool of yourself, wandering across the yards to go talk to him. And stand up straight.
Cynical: Excellent flirting. Maybe you can go down the list of what he got for his birthday. That's hot. He'll totally ask you out if your friend got cool stuff for his birthday.
Me: Yeah, he got a grill and an apron and...
The Voices: SHUT UP! What are you doing????
HN: Oh. That's great! Did you guys go out to eat, or...?
Me: Yeah, well, they did. I got there too late. But we had fun. *smiles*
Cynical: OMG, it's 11:30pm and you two happen to run into each other, and THIS is all he can think to talk about?? Wake me up when he's asked you out. *snores*
Panic: Dude, this is not going well. Abort!
Good Point: No, Hot Neighbor needs to step up to the plate and see what you're doing on Friday night. This small talk is just wasting everyone's time.
The Voices nod in agreement. "Wait, why are we out here?" someone asks.
HN: *just kind of stands there*
Panic: RUN!!!!!
Me: Ok, well, have a good night! *runs inside*
I shut the door behind me. Sammy greets me. He has no idea how pathetic his owner is, so he wags his little tail stump in approval.
Shy: Oh, thank God. It is so good to be safe and inside.
Cynical: Another fabulous performance. Way to go.
Single Girl: You are dead to me.
Horny and Pervert are kicking Panic and shouting, "Stop doing that! Stop doing that! You ruin it every time!!!" Panic is on the ground, rolling in agony from the pain of their pointy shoes.
Stupidly Optimistic: Maybe he'll come over and knock on the door and ask you out!!
Cynical: Are you high? She just blew him off.
Practical: Well, really, what was the point? He wasn't going to cut to the chase.
Impatient: It's 11:30. Some of us have to work in the morning. We can't go over every detail of the evening, hoping he'll ask us out sometime before 3am.
Overly Analytical: You know, you've really got to get over this fear of dating or you really will be alone forever.
Me: *sighs* I know.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Almost Girl Strikes Again!
DING-DONG.
I open the door. It's Hot Neighbor.
"Thank effing God you did your hair today," says Single Girl.
"AND you're wearing a top that makes your boobs look good!" says Pervert.
"Good job! Because he's here to ask you out!!!" shouts Stupidly Optimistic.
"Yeah, right. Didn't you see how Hoochie McSkankerton and her little blue convertible were camped out at his house ALL DAY today? Exactly how stupid are you? They probably spent the whole day in bed, which is why they ordered a pizza instead of going out to eat. He probably wants to ask you about something neighborly," retorts Cynical.
"Hi," I say.
"Hey," says Hot Neighbor. He looks hot. Obviously.
Then he sort of mumbles something along the lines of, "I need to ask you something...I was wondering if you'd ever want to go to church or dinner sometime...with me..."
"Church??!" shout all the Voices in chorus, utterly confused.
"Who cares about that. We need to know the Hoochie status," states Practical, flatly.
"Um, wouldn't your girlfriend get kind of upset about that?" I ask.
"Oh, who cares about her? There's no rings on any fingers. Jeez, will you let the man ask you out?" says Inner Mom Voice.
"Oh. Um, well, it's not really like that. She's not my girlfriend. She and I are kind of....pulling apart," he explains. I have caught him off-guard. His face is red now. Too cute.
"Pulling apart? What, like dinner rolls? WTF does that mean? Six months into something, you're either together or you're not," says Good Point.
"Obviously, this means they're not! Now, squish your boobs together!" shouts Single Girl.
"Oh. Ok," I reply.
The Voices are cheering and doing cartwheels. There are rumors of a party being planned in my honor. The phrase "ice sculpture" was mentioned, and then vetoed.
"See?! I knew that stupid Hoochie McSkankerton wouldn't last!" exclaims Stupidly Optimistic.
"Yeah, she looks like a South Beach hooker!" blurts Gossipy.
Hot Neighbor continues: "I mean, if my status with her ever changed or anything, I would definitely let you know...just like if our status ever changed, I would let her know. I mean, can't a guy and a girl just hang out as friends?" Hot Neighbor mumbled.
[Insert that party-interrupting record-scratch sound often heard in awkward movie scenes here.]
"WTF does that mean????" shout all the Voices together.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" says Space Cadet. "I was still thinking about how Hoochie looks like a stripper."
"Aha! Did you hear that? 'Friends.' I knew it. He wants you to give him advice on how to mend his relationship with his girlfriend. He wants a shoulder to cry on. And you're going to do it, because you're a big fat sucker," says Cynical, snidely.
I have no idea what to say. Friends? Status? Huh?
The Voices go into overdrive.
"Is he asking you out? Because you don't have any plans next weekend, " says Single Girl.
"It sounded like it, didn't it?!" shrieks Stupidly Optimistic.
"Or is he lonely?" wonders Overly Analytical.
"Is he looking for a re-bound? Because we might want to go for this idea," says Horny.
"OMG, does he want a threesome or something???!!!" squeals Pervert.
"Dude, SO not happening," states Prisspot.
"That's it! He just said it! You're in The Friend Zone (TFZ). Because really, there's no way he's actually asking you out right now." states Pessimistically Paranoid.
"Does he honestly think you are unaware of Hoochie & her weekend sleepovers? Is he trying to pull a fast one on his girlfriend? Or have his cake and eat it, too? Who the hell does this guy think he is?" huffs Bitch Mode.
"Easy, Bitch Mode," warns Logical.
Obviously, my brain was rapidly approaching system overload. I cannot think of what to say. Did this guy just admit that he is currently with her........or not? And does he want to date me....or not? Is he saying he wants a "trial" date or something? This is all very strange. I have never been asked out by a guy who admits to still having a girlfriend. Usually, it's single guys who ask me out. Go figure. I guess I have to give him points for being honest, right?
Luckily, he keeps talking:
"I mean, I know you aren't from here, and you don't know a ton of people, so I thought that well, we could hang out sometime, I mean, we live right next to each other and we don't know each other that well...." he trails off.
I am still dumbfounded.
"I cook!" Hot Neighbor declares, lighting up. This made me giggle.
"Ok, sounds good," I said as I smiled.
"Alright, well, don't be surprised if I knock on your door sometime to see if you want to grab some dinner," he said.
"Ok, I'd like that," I said.
He says goodbye and walks back to his house. I'm standing there, absorbing all of this, with my door open.
Good Point asks, "Wait, he never actually made a date, did he? Does this mean you're Almost Girl again?"
The Voices all groan together, "Oh no! Not 'Almost Girl'!!!! Not again!!"
And that's when both my dogs flew out the door. Great.
I have no shoes on. Great.
Hot Neighbor has his sprinkler going. My dogs make a beeline for it. They will be wet. Great.
Actually, it ended up being good, because Hot Neighbor and I talked for another 5 minutes while he helped me corral my dogs and get them back inside.
No, not like that. Don't get all Stupidly Optimistic on me. Just small talk. Then I got my dogs and went inside.
Remember, he didn't actually ask me out. He ALMOST did.
This guy is trying to date two girls at the same time. I think. Or else he's stringing along his ex while he decides if he wants to date me instead. Like I'm his backup plan or something. He won't let Hoochie go until he's sure he wants to be with me. And I'm not quite sure how I feel about that.
At least, I think that's what's going on.
For the first time, I actually feel sorry for Hoochie.
So, what do you think? Did he ask me out or not? Why didn't he set a date? Do you really think Hoochie McSkankerton is totally out of the picture? If so, then why has she been over almost every day for the past week--even seemingly spending the night? She must have a key, because she's been inside his house, waiting for him to get home from work a couple of times. I mean, she's obviously still in the picture. Am I in TFZ?
More importantly, why am I not excited about any of this? I have had a crush on him for so long, but now that it has seemingly happened (both MJ & KT think he just asked me out on a date), I don't even have butterflies or feel excited. I think it's because I'm sketched out by the girlfriend. If he's still with her in any way, I just don't know how I feel about that. I am really not up for being part of Hot Neighbor's harem or being The Other Woman or anything like that. I'm not saying that I need to have him all to myself, but he needs to be fair to both of us. Which, I guess he just said he would do....ugh, I am TOTALLY confused!!!
And is it bad that I think less of him for not just making a clean break with her? I mean, if it's not working, be a man and break up with her officially, you know? If he's sleeping with her, I would NOT feel right going out with him. AT ALL. I just don't think that would be right. Besides, if she's as possessive as NS says, she's probably a psycho, too. And I definitely prefer my life to be drama-free.
I need help, people. Ugh, I HATE being Almost Girl!!!
I open the door. It's Hot Neighbor.
"Thank effing God you did your hair today," says Single Girl.
"AND you're wearing a top that makes your boobs look good!" says Pervert.
"Good job! Because he's here to ask you out!!!" shouts Stupidly Optimistic.
"Yeah, right. Didn't you see how Hoochie McSkankerton and her little blue convertible were camped out at his house ALL DAY today? Exactly how stupid are you? They probably spent the whole day in bed, which is why they ordered a pizza instead of going out to eat. He probably wants to ask you about something neighborly," retorts Cynical.
"Hi," I say.
"Hey," says Hot Neighbor. He looks hot. Obviously.
Then he sort of mumbles something along the lines of, "I need to ask you something...I was wondering if you'd ever want to go to church or dinner sometime...with me..."
"Church??!" shout all the Voices in chorus, utterly confused.
"Who cares about that. We need to know the Hoochie status," states Practical, flatly.
"Um, wouldn't your girlfriend get kind of upset about that?" I ask.
"Oh, who cares about her? There's no rings on any fingers. Jeez, will you let the man ask you out?" says Inner Mom Voice.
"Oh. Um, well, it's not really like that. She's not my girlfriend. She and I are kind of....pulling apart," he explains. I have caught him off-guard. His face is red now. Too cute.
"Pulling apart? What, like dinner rolls? WTF does that mean? Six months into something, you're either together or you're not," says Good Point.
"Obviously, this means they're not! Now, squish your boobs together!" shouts Single Girl.
"Oh. Ok," I reply.
The Voices are cheering and doing cartwheels. There are rumors of a party being planned in my honor. The phrase "ice sculpture" was mentioned, and then vetoed.
"See?! I knew that stupid Hoochie McSkankerton wouldn't last!" exclaims Stupidly Optimistic.
"Yeah, she looks like a South Beach hooker!" blurts Gossipy.
Hot Neighbor continues: "I mean, if my status with her ever changed or anything, I would definitely let you know...just like if our status ever changed, I would let her know. I mean, can't a guy and a girl just hang out as friends?" Hot Neighbor mumbled.
[Insert that party-interrupting record-scratch sound often heard in awkward movie scenes here.]
"WTF does that mean????" shout all the Voices together.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" says Space Cadet. "I was still thinking about how Hoochie looks like a stripper."
"Aha! Did you hear that? 'Friends.' I knew it. He wants you to give him advice on how to mend his relationship with his girlfriend. He wants a shoulder to cry on. And you're going to do it, because you're a big fat sucker," says Cynical, snidely.
I have no idea what to say. Friends? Status? Huh?
The Voices go into overdrive.
"Is he asking you out? Because you don't have any plans next weekend, " says Single Girl.
"It sounded like it, didn't it?!" shrieks Stupidly Optimistic.
"Or is he lonely?" wonders Overly Analytical.
"Is he looking for a re-bound? Because we might want to go for this idea," says Horny.
"OMG, does he want a threesome or something???!!!" squeals Pervert.
"Dude, SO not happening," states Prisspot.
"That's it! He just said it! You're in The Friend Zone (TFZ). Because really, there's no way he's actually asking you out right now." states Pessimistically Paranoid.
"Does he honestly think you are unaware of Hoochie & her weekend sleepovers? Is he trying to pull a fast one on his girlfriend? Or have his cake and eat it, too? Who the hell does this guy think he is?" huffs Bitch Mode.
"Easy, Bitch Mode," warns Logical.
Obviously, my brain was rapidly approaching system overload. I cannot think of what to say. Did this guy just admit that he is currently with her........or not? And does he want to date me....or not? Is he saying he wants a "trial" date or something? This is all very strange. I have never been asked out by a guy who admits to still having a girlfriend. Usually, it's single guys who ask me out. Go figure. I guess I have to give him points for being honest, right?
Luckily, he keeps talking:
"I mean, I know you aren't from here, and you don't know a ton of people, so I thought that well, we could hang out sometime, I mean, we live right next to each other and we don't know each other that well...." he trails off.
I am still dumbfounded.
"I cook!" Hot Neighbor declares, lighting up. This made me giggle.
"Ok, sounds good," I said as I smiled.
"Alright, well, don't be surprised if I knock on your door sometime to see if you want to grab some dinner," he said.
"Ok, I'd like that," I said.
He says goodbye and walks back to his house. I'm standing there, absorbing all of this, with my door open.
Good Point asks, "Wait, he never actually made a date, did he? Does this mean you're Almost Girl again?"
The Voices all groan together, "Oh no! Not 'Almost Girl'!!!! Not again!!"
And that's when both my dogs flew out the door. Great.
I have no shoes on. Great.
Hot Neighbor has his sprinkler going. My dogs make a beeline for it. They will be wet. Great.
Actually, it ended up being good, because Hot Neighbor and I talked for another 5 minutes while he helped me corral my dogs and get them back inside.
No, not like that. Don't get all Stupidly Optimistic on me. Just small talk. Then I got my dogs and went inside.
Remember, he didn't actually ask me out. He ALMOST did.
This guy is trying to date two girls at the same time. I think. Or else he's stringing along his ex while he decides if he wants to date me instead. Like I'm his backup plan or something. He won't let Hoochie go until he's sure he wants to be with me. And I'm not quite sure how I feel about that.
At least, I think that's what's going on.
For the first time, I actually feel sorry for Hoochie.
So, what do you think? Did he ask me out or not? Why didn't he set a date? Do you really think Hoochie McSkankerton is totally out of the picture? If so, then why has she been over almost every day for the past week--even seemingly spending the night? She must have a key, because she's been inside his house, waiting for him to get home from work a couple of times. I mean, she's obviously still in the picture. Am I in TFZ?
More importantly, why am I not excited about any of this? I have had a crush on him for so long, but now that it has seemingly happened (both MJ & KT think he just asked me out on a date), I don't even have butterflies or feel excited. I think it's because I'm sketched out by the girlfriend. If he's still with her in any way, I just don't know how I feel about that. I am really not up for being part of Hot Neighbor's harem or being The Other Woman or anything like that. I'm not saying that I need to have him all to myself, but he needs to be fair to both of us. Which, I guess he just said he would do....ugh, I am TOTALLY confused!!!
And is it bad that I think less of him for not just making a clean break with her? I mean, if it's not working, be a man and break up with her officially, you know? If he's sleeping with her, I would NOT feel right going out with him. AT ALL. I just don't think that would be right. Besides, if she's as possessive as NS says, she's probably a psycho, too. And I definitely prefer my life to be drama-free.
I need help, people. Ugh, I HATE being Almost Girl!!!
Thursday, August 16, 2007
An Interesting Development
I got home from work early yesterday, and was walking to my front door, when I was approached by my neighbor's son (NS). I love his mom. She is an older lady with a rascally dachshund. Anyway, NS is always over at her house, working on her yard. He wanted to see how I felt about our lawn service, because everyone on my street pays $35/month to have our front yards mowed, edged, etc.
Well, to be honest, the service sucks. So he and I were griping about that. We talked about how much we like the neighborhood otherwise. Then NS told me about his family (he's married with kids) and I told him about my job and my future plans and how I don't know if I'm going to live in Columbia forever, since I don't have much to keep me here. I said that if I ever moved, I'd probably rent out my house rather than sell it.
"No boyfriend?" he asked.
"Nope," I replied. "But if I had a guy who I could see myself staying with, I probably wouldn't be thinking about ever leaving." I explained.
"You know, if you were dating a guy like Hot Neighbor, you'd have a reason to stay," NS winked, gesturing towards HN's house. (HN was not home.)
"Um, he's got a girlfriend." I stated flatly.
"Oh, no he doesn't!" NS said.
"Well, she spends the night," I said, skeptically.
"Trust me, nothing is going on," said NS.
I didn't know if I believed him or not, but I was willing to hear what he had to say. That's when I realized I haven't seen Hoochie McSkankerton around much lately. I'd seen her maybe twice in the past month-- a big change from a few months ago, when she practically lived there. Maybe NS is right....
NS proceeds to give the the scoop on Hot Neighbor (not to be confused with Cute Neighbor, the source of so many Conversations with My Brain). Apparently, NS and Hot Neighbor have known each other for years and are friends. NS told me that Hot Neighbor has been talking about moving, too-- to a bigger house in another part of town. I already knew about, since HN and I had talked about it one day.
Well, according to NS, this is all Hoochie McSkankerton's idea. NS told me that she and Hot Neighbor went to high school together, but she is about 4 years older than Hot Neighbor (which puts her at about 35 or so). They started dating about 6 months ago after bumping into each other at a party. And at first, Hot Neighbor was head-over-heels for Hoochie, but eventually, she exposed herself as possessive, demanding, jealous and pushing for marriage ASAP.
"Whoa," I said.
"Yeah, I know. I didn't want to say anything to him, because it's not my place, but I just didn't think she was the kind of girl he should be dating," said NS. He continued on with the story.
So eventually, a light bulb went off in Hot Neighbor's head, and he realized she's pushy, so he has basically broken up with her. But according to NS, he's too nice and she's too possessive for them to just break it off cleanly. Supposedly, there isn't much going on between them physically, either. (I don't know if I buy that part....NS said Hot Neighbor is not like that and is very Christian, but....I just don't see it....) But they are not boyfriend/girlfriend, according to NS.
Then NS tells me he's going to put in a good word for me and try to get Hot Neighbor to ask me out. He shook my hand, said it was nice to meet me, and went back over to his mother's house, leaving me dumbfounded and standing in the middle of my yard.
Well, to be honest, the service sucks. So he and I were griping about that. We talked about how much we like the neighborhood otherwise. Then NS told me about his family (he's married with kids) and I told him about my job and my future plans and how I don't know if I'm going to live in Columbia forever, since I don't have much to keep me here. I said that if I ever moved, I'd probably rent out my house rather than sell it.
"No boyfriend?" he asked.
"Nope," I replied. "But if I had a guy who I could see myself staying with, I probably wouldn't be thinking about ever leaving." I explained.
"You know, if you were dating a guy like Hot Neighbor, you'd have a reason to stay," NS winked, gesturing towards HN's house. (HN was not home.)
"Um, he's got a girlfriend." I stated flatly.
"Oh, no he doesn't!" NS said.
"Well, she spends the night," I said, skeptically.
"Trust me, nothing is going on," said NS.
I didn't know if I believed him or not, but I was willing to hear what he had to say. That's when I realized I haven't seen Hoochie McSkankerton around much lately. I'd seen her maybe twice in the past month-- a big change from a few months ago, when she practically lived there. Maybe NS is right....
NS proceeds to give the the scoop on Hot Neighbor (not to be confused with Cute Neighbor, the source of so many Conversations with My Brain). Apparently, NS and Hot Neighbor have known each other for years and are friends. NS told me that Hot Neighbor has been talking about moving, too-- to a bigger house in another part of town. I already knew about, since HN and I had talked about it one day.
Well, according to NS, this is all Hoochie McSkankerton's idea. NS told me that she and Hot Neighbor went to high school together, but she is about 4 years older than Hot Neighbor (which puts her at about 35 or so). They started dating about 6 months ago after bumping into each other at a party. And at first, Hot Neighbor was head-over-heels for Hoochie, but eventually, she exposed herself as possessive, demanding, jealous and pushing for marriage ASAP.
"Whoa," I said.
"Yeah, I know. I didn't want to say anything to him, because it's not my place, but I just didn't think she was the kind of girl he should be dating," said NS. He continued on with the story.
So eventually, a light bulb went off in Hot Neighbor's head, and he realized she's pushy, so he has basically broken up with her. But according to NS, he's too nice and she's too possessive for them to just break it off cleanly. Supposedly, there isn't much going on between them physically, either. (I don't know if I buy that part....NS said Hot Neighbor is not like that and is very Christian, but....I just don't see it....) But they are not boyfriend/girlfriend, according to NS.
Then NS tells me he's going to put in a good word for me and try to get Hot Neighbor to ask me out. He shook my hand, said it was nice to meet me, and went back over to his mother's house, leaving me dumbfounded and standing in the middle of my yard.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
We Interrupt This Program...
I still have at least two more Southern Culture posts I'd like to write. (Unless everyone is sick of them?) I decided to start this series at a good time -- I don't have a lot going on right now. But that doesn't mean I don't have anything going on, either. For example:
1. I cannot stop eating hot dogs or anything orange-flavored. Maybe it's the summer weather, maybe it's the little kid in me, but all I want are ketchup, orange soda pop (OMG, diet Sunkist? The shiznit.), cheese-filled wieners and that ice cream where they mix the vanilla ice cream with orange sherbet. What is going on??? I never crave this stuff.
2. I am officially b-r-o-k-e. $40 until payday. This is not good. Note to self: DO SOMETHING!!
3. I just burned a new CD today. My favorite tracks include: "Beautiful Liar" -- Beyonce & Shakira, "Hang Me Up to Dry" -- Cold War Kids, "You Know I'm No Good" -- Amy Winehouse, "Like This" -- Kelly Rowland feat. Eve, "We Takin' Over" -- DJ Khaled (et al.) and "Hump de Bump" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, even though they totally sold out on that track. I had no business buying the tracks, but if I don't have new music every 2 months, I can feel my soul dying.
4. Not really any Hot Neighbor news. Haven't seen Hoochie McSkankerton in at least a week. This is good. I probably just jinxed myself, though. I'll probably come home to them sucking face in his driveway again. I did manage to make a complete idiot out of myself, though. (Surprised??) It's a long story, but he needed his sewer turned back on, and he didn't have time to do it since he was going to NC. Being the huge sucker that I am, I blurted out, "I'm not doing anything tomorrow. I can go down to the city offices and do it for you, if you want." The second it flew out of my mouth, I could not believe what a total jackass I was. So if you see me, please write "SUCKER" on my forehead in permanent ink, OK? He ended up doing it himself, so no, I did not run any errands for him. GAH. *bangs head against wall*
5. I didn't do diddly squat over the holiday weekend (see #2, above). Lots of naps, TV watching and hot dog eating. I was pretty much a worthless human being, aside from baking some cookies and working on my big secret project. Which I should actually be calling "Big Secret Project, The Sequel", as the original project needed to be aborted. This re-vamped version is much more...doable. (Again, if you have no idea what I'm talking about or are just plain nosy, email me and I will give you details.) It's ok. I have a 4 day weekend coming up. I can be more productive then. The good thing is, the Summer Parties and cookouts have started. It's starting to be lake time, which is always a fun weekend activity. WOOT!
6. I posted some new recipes on my cooking blog, Virginia Cooks. If you're interested.
But the true highlight of the long weekend was last night.
This is a story which I will call: "I am a Sucker for Awkwardness and Total Humiliation" or "On Realizing That I am a Masochist"
Ahem.
I have been spending a lot of time with the Happy Hour Girls lately, especially E, Butter and their boyfriends. If you remember, we all had a good time together the weekend of Cinco de Mayo. And if you recall, I ended up making out with Rob Thomas, who never called. And yes, I was kind of upset about that.
Well, last night I got a text message from E: "Hey, want to go to dinner with us? We are going to Flying Saucer because Rob Thomas wants to hit on some waitress who works there."
I know she didn't mean anything by it, but did I really need to have this information? To her, it's old news, but to me, it still kind of stings a little that he never called me.
"Dude, no. There's no way I'm going and watching Rob hit on some waitress in front of my face. Not when this is the first time he and I will be seeing each other. Unless you really want me to go," I replied.
She did. And Butter did, too. "Pleeeeeeeeease? I'm Butter! I need bread! You are my bread!" she pleaded. *sigh*
"It's going to be awkward the first time you and Rob see each other, anyway. Might as well get it over with," E said.
"*sigh* Ok. But I'm only going if I can have cigarettes on-demand," I said.
"Done," E said.
I drove over to meet everyone at Rob's house. (Remember, E's boyf is Rob's roommate). Rob and I were cordial, but distant. I wholly avoided eye contact with him (I know, I know. But I just wasn't ready to make nice quite yet.) and talked to everyone else instead. I asked if they liked the cookies. Earlier in the week, I had given E some cookies I made. "Dude, those cookies you made? Amazing," Rob said to me, out of nowhere.
"Really? Because I was sorta hoping you'd choke to death on them!" I wanted to say.
"Dude, your ass-kissing is total bullshit, so fuck off!" I wanted to say.
"That kissing you did? SO average," I wanted to say.
"Thank you. I'm glad you like them," I said instead.
"You wuss!" my brain said.
Soon after, we all piled into cars and drove to the restaurant.
I got MJ and KT to join us, too, and I'm so glad they came. I don't think I could have made it through the meal without having at least 4 girlfriends with me. Thank God for the knowing, understanding and sympathetic looks your girlfriends can give you, all without saying a word. "You OK?" "OMG he's being such a douchebag!" "Don't worry, let's talk about something else!" "Seriously, how dumb is this girl Rob likes?" their eyes said to me.
When I sat down at the table, the only empty seat was next to me. And Rob was the only person who hadn't sat down yet. Super. It looked like I was expecting him to sit next to me. Ugh.
Instead, and far worse, he moved aaaaaall the way to the opposite end of the table from me, and proceeded to pull up a chair. Wow. I don't think that could have been more insulting. Now, not only am I Almost Girl, I also have cooties. This is like 3rd grade all over again. I was already regretting my decision.
My feelings of self-loathing were only intensified when the waitress came over to our table. First off, she wasn't a very good waitress. This is probably because she has the same level of intelligence as a toothpick. Then again, I suppose I am biased. Since she and Rob already knew each other, she proceeds to pull up a chair next to him, where they spent half the meal talking to one another. She spent every possible minute talking to him, and he spent every possible minute trying to make her job easier: "Guys, who ordered the French dip?" "Anyone need anything?" "Are we ready for our bills?" etc.
"It's a good thing my stomach is empty right now, because otherwise, I'd be barfing all over this table," I whispered to MJ as we waited for our food.
"Stiff that stupid bimbo waitress," my brain said.
"I'm gonna stiff her," I told MJ.
I didn't stiff her.
"You wuss!" my brain said.
Anyway, the food was good. My girlfriends were wonderful. The service was below average. The humiliation was total.
Yup. Sounds pretty normal for me.
Never fear. Rob has invited all of us to go to the lake on his boat next weekend. I will get to do a whole repeat of this story, only while wearing my bikini. Because this wasn't quite humiliating enough. To be fully awful, I need to add "pale flesh" and "tummy rolls" to the mix. And if the bimbo waitress comes too? Aaaah, that will be Humiliation Extraordinaire!
It's kind of like a nightmare, only more real.
1. I cannot stop eating hot dogs or anything orange-flavored. Maybe it's the summer weather, maybe it's the little kid in me, but all I want are ketchup, orange soda pop (OMG, diet Sunkist? The shiznit.), cheese-filled wieners and that ice cream where they mix the vanilla ice cream with orange sherbet. What is going on??? I never crave this stuff.
2. I am officially b-r-o-k-e. $40 until payday. This is not good. Note to self: DO SOMETHING!!
3. I just burned a new CD today. My favorite tracks include: "Beautiful Liar" -- Beyonce & Shakira, "Hang Me Up to Dry" -- Cold War Kids, "You Know I'm No Good" -- Amy Winehouse, "Like This" -- Kelly Rowland feat. Eve, "We Takin' Over" -- DJ Khaled (et al.) and "Hump de Bump" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, even though they totally sold out on that track. I had no business buying the tracks, but if I don't have new music every 2 months, I can feel my soul dying.
4. Not really any Hot Neighbor news. Haven't seen Hoochie McSkankerton in at least a week. This is good. I probably just jinxed myself, though. I'll probably come home to them sucking face in his driveway again. I did manage to make a complete idiot out of myself, though. (Surprised??) It's a long story, but he needed his sewer turned back on, and he didn't have time to do it since he was going to NC. Being the huge sucker that I am, I blurted out, "I'm not doing anything tomorrow. I can go down to the city offices and do it for you, if you want." The second it flew out of my mouth, I could not believe what a total jackass I was. So if you see me, please write "SUCKER" on my forehead in permanent ink, OK? He ended up doing it himself, so no, I did not run any errands for him. GAH. *bangs head against wall*
5. I didn't do diddly squat over the holiday weekend (see #2, above). Lots of naps, TV watching and hot dog eating. I was pretty much a worthless human being, aside from baking some cookies and working on my big secret project. Which I should actually be calling "Big Secret Project, The Sequel", as the original project needed to be aborted. This re-vamped version is much more...doable. (Again, if you have no idea what I'm talking about or are just plain nosy, email me and I will give you details.) It's ok. I have a 4 day weekend coming up. I can be more productive then. The good thing is, the Summer Parties and cookouts have started. It's starting to be lake time, which is always a fun weekend activity. WOOT!
6. I posted some new recipes on my cooking blog, Virginia Cooks. If you're interested.
But the true highlight of the long weekend was last night.
This is a story which I will call: "I am a Sucker for Awkwardness and Total Humiliation" or "On Realizing That I am a Masochist"
Ahem.
I have been spending a lot of time with the Happy Hour Girls lately, especially E, Butter and their boyfriends. If you remember, we all had a good time together the weekend of Cinco de Mayo. And if you recall, I ended up making out with Rob Thomas, who never called. And yes, I was kind of upset about that.
Well, last night I got a text message from E: "Hey, want to go to dinner with us? We are going to Flying Saucer because Rob Thomas wants to hit on some waitress who works there."
I know she didn't mean anything by it, but did I really need to have this information? To her, it's old news, but to me, it still kind of stings a little that he never called me.
"Dude, no. There's no way I'm going and watching Rob hit on some waitress in front of my face. Not when this is the first time he and I will be seeing each other. Unless you really want me to go," I replied.
She did. And Butter did, too. "Pleeeeeeeeease? I'm Butter! I need bread! You are my bread!" she pleaded. *sigh*
"It's going to be awkward the first time you and Rob see each other, anyway. Might as well get it over with," E said.
"*sigh* Ok. But I'm only going if I can have cigarettes on-demand," I said.
"Done," E said.
I drove over to meet everyone at Rob's house. (Remember, E's boyf is Rob's roommate). Rob and I were cordial, but distant. I wholly avoided eye contact with him (I know, I know. But I just wasn't ready to make nice quite yet.) and talked to everyone else instead. I asked if they liked the cookies. Earlier in the week, I had given E some cookies I made. "Dude, those cookies you made? Amazing," Rob said to me, out of nowhere.
"Really? Because I was sorta hoping you'd choke to death on them!" I wanted to say.
"Dude, your ass-kissing is total bullshit, so fuck off!" I wanted to say.
"That kissing you did? SO average," I wanted to say.
"Thank you. I'm glad you like them," I said instead.
"You wuss!" my brain said.
Soon after, we all piled into cars and drove to the restaurant.
I got MJ and KT to join us, too, and I'm so glad they came. I don't think I could have made it through the meal without having at least 4 girlfriends with me. Thank God for the knowing, understanding and sympathetic looks your girlfriends can give you, all without saying a word. "You OK?" "OMG he's being such a douchebag!" "Don't worry, let's talk about something else!" "Seriously, how dumb is this girl Rob likes?" their eyes said to me.
When I sat down at the table, the only empty seat was next to me. And Rob was the only person who hadn't sat down yet. Super. It looked like I was expecting him to sit next to me. Ugh.
Instead, and far worse, he moved aaaaaall the way to the opposite end of the table from me, and proceeded to pull up a chair. Wow. I don't think that could have been more insulting. Now, not only am I Almost Girl, I also have cooties. This is like 3rd grade all over again. I was already regretting my decision.
My feelings of self-loathing were only intensified when the waitress came over to our table. First off, she wasn't a very good waitress. This is probably because she has the same level of intelligence as a toothpick. Then again, I suppose I am biased. Since she and Rob already knew each other, she proceeds to pull up a chair next to him, where they spent half the meal talking to one another. She spent every possible minute talking to him, and he spent every possible minute trying to make her job easier: "Guys, who ordered the French dip?" "Anyone need anything?" "Are we ready for our bills?" etc.
"It's a good thing my stomach is empty right now, because otherwise, I'd be barfing all over this table," I whispered to MJ as we waited for our food.
"Stiff that stupid bimbo waitress," my brain said.
"I'm gonna stiff her," I told MJ.
I didn't stiff her.
"You wuss!" my brain said.
Anyway, the food was good. My girlfriends were wonderful. The service was below average. The humiliation was total.
Yup. Sounds pretty normal for me.
Never fear. Rob has invited all of us to go to the lake on his boat next weekend. I will get to do a whole repeat of this story, only while wearing my bikini. Because this wasn't quite humiliating enough. To be fully awful, I need to add "pale flesh" and "tummy rolls" to the mix. And if the bimbo waitress comes too? Aaaah, that will be Humiliation Extraordinaire!
It's kind of like a nightmare, only more real.
Monday, May 21, 2007
WLF Goes to the Beach
Let's see....not the most eventful week of my life, in case you can't tell from my lack of posting.
I could tell you about having to sit next to a guy from Romania who had B.O.
Or I could tell you about seeing a great local band the other night (Villanova).
I could tell you that I saw Hoochie McSkankerton (aka Wednesday Skank) sucking face with Hot Neighbor this weekend. In his driveway. In daylight. In front of his kids. (Is it just me, or is 2 months kind of soon to be making out in front of the kiddies???)
I could tell you that Shrek the Third was decent. But perhaps you should wait for the DVD.
I could tell you that the portrayal of librarians in Party Girl and Tomcats were....interesting. And although not great movies, they did have their funny moments. Librarians are very wild girls, according to Hollywood. Woot!
I could mention that I am officially up to running 3 miles now. With a small break in-between miles 2 and 3. Go me.
Or I could tell you that I left my doggie bag behind at a restaurant this weekend and I was SO MAD, because I always do that. Which sucks even more when you are broke and were hoping to have the leftovers for dinner tonight. GAH I am still pissed at myself, just thinking about it.
I could tell you how my brother Fungus got to eat dinner with this guy recently. No, I am not kidding. A friend of the family got an extra ticket to a gala dinner where he spoke, and he gave the ticket to Fungus. So I'm sure he didn't get to meet him, just share a meal with him. Kinda. Neat, huh?
I could tell you about hanging out with all my girls this weeekend: Friday's dinner with the Happy Hour Peeps. Saturday's BBQ lunch w/MJ & KT (and MJ's brother & sis-in-law) and Sunday's dinner at a Chinese/Japanese/Sushi restaurant with the Nurses and Healthy Girl. But it was just good times, not much to report.
Really, I pretty much just summed everything up for you. This leaves me with a problem: what should I post today? Hmmm...sounds like it's time for a story! WOOT!
Have I told you about the time WLF went to the beach? No? Ok, this is a good one.
At some point in his youth, I think when he was in college, WLF (aka My Dad) went to the beach with his buddies one summer. (So this is probably somewhere in Virginia or Maryland, in the 1950s, for those of you who want a setting.)
They were there for about a week. Aside from getting up one morning (to find they were out of milk) and putting beer on his breakfast cereal --- EWWWWW --- he just had a good time partying it up on the surf and sand.
But one night was unforgettable.....
Apparently, there was some all-girl's school at this beach-front town. WLF and his buddies found out where the girls' dormitory was. It was directly across the street from the beach. Enjoying the wonderful beach breezes, the girls kept their windows open at night as they slept.
Big. Mistake.
You see, nighttime is when the crabs come out. Hundreds of little crabs, all over the beach. And you really don't want to combine that wonder of nature with a group of college-aged young men who are on vacation with not much to do. Besides drink beer.
See where this is going? Yeah.
So WLF and his buddies grab buckets and start collecting crabs. Tons of them. They completely fill the buckets with live crabs. They wait until the lights in the dormitory had been out for about a half hour. Then they climb up the fire escape to the 2nd floor, walk over to the open window...........and begin to dump the buckets. Hundreds of crabs scurry all over the hardwood floors, making for a very creepy cacophony of little crustacean legs. But the sleeping women do not notice.
At first.
Giggling, WLF and his buddies ran back down the fire escape to sit on the curb across the street from the dormitory. They each pop a can of beer......and wait.
About 5 minutes later, the screaming starts. In between shrieks, WLF and his buddies can hear the crabs freaking out and scurrying around everywhere in packs, from one side of the room to the other. Soon they can tell all the girls are up, screaming bloody murder. The crabs are making even more noise than before, sliding all over the slick, hardwood floors. Someone switched on the lights, and then they really started screaming.
Meanwhile, WLF and his friends are laughing their asses off.
That is, until they hear the police sirens. One of the girls had called the cops.
WLF and his buddies start to run away. But WLF trips and falls. The cops are right up on them at this point, his friends are long gone, and WLF knew he had to think fast if he was going to avoid trouble. A pickup truck was parked down the street. WLF opened the door (unbelievably, it was unlocked) and quickly laid down on the seat as though he were sleeping.
Not even 15 seconds later, a cop raps at the window, looking for answers.
"Oh, no, officer. I have no idea what you're talking about. I've been asleep the whole time, here in my truck. I didn't see anything," he said drowsily.
"Hmph. Ok, well, thanks anyway," the cop said suspiciously.
My dad could never believe he didn't get busted on that one. But he was pretty proud of himself at the same time for his quick thinking. He never could tell that story without laughing so hard, he had tears running down his face.
By the way, this is only one of many stories involving my father and practical jokes. You could say it was a hobby of his.
I could tell you about having to sit next to a guy from Romania who had B.O.
Or I could tell you about seeing a great local band the other night (Villanova).
I could tell you that I saw Hoochie McSkankerton (aka Wednesday Skank) sucking face with Hot Neighbor this weekend. In his driveway. In daylight. In front of his kids. (Is it just me, or is 2 months kind of soon to be making out in front of the kiddies???)
I could tell you that Shrek the Third was decent. But perhaps you should wait for the DVD.
I could tell you that the portrayal of librarians in Party Girl and Tomcats were....interesting. And although not great movies, they did have their funny moments. Librarians are very wild girls, according to Hollywood. Woot!
I could mention that I am officially up to running 3 miles now. With a small break in-between miles 2 and 3. Go me.
Or I could tell you that I left my doggie bag behind at a restaurant this weekend and I was SO MAD, because I always do that. Which sucks even more when you are broke and were hoping to have the leftovers for dinner tonight. GAH I am still pissed at myself, just thinking about it.
I could tell you how my brother Fungus got to eat dinner with this guy recently. No, I am not kidding. A friend of the family got an extra ticket to a gala dinner where he spoke, and he gave the ticket to Fungus. So I'm sure he didn't get to meet him, just share a meal with him. Kinda. Neat, huh?
I could tell you about hanging out with all my girls this weeekend: Friday's dinner with the Happy Hour Peeps. Saturday's BBQ lunch w/MJ & KT (and MJ's brother & sis-in-law) and Sunday's dinner at a Chinese/Japanese/Sushi restaurant with the Nurses and Healthy Girl. But it was just good times, not much to report.
Really, I pretty much just summed everything up for you. This leaves me with a problem: what should I post today? Hmmm...sounds like it's time for a story! WOOT!
Have I told you about the time WLF went to the beach? No? Ok, this is a good one.
At some point in his youth, I think when he was in college, WLF (aka My Dad) went to the beach with his buddies one summer. (So this is probably somewhere in Virginia or Maryland, in the 1950s, for those of you who want a setting.)
They were there for about a week. Aside from getting up one morning (to find they were out of milk) and putting beer on his breakfast cereal --- EWWWWW --- he just had a good time partying it up on the surf and sand.
But one night was unforgettable.....
Apparently, there was some all-girl's school at this beach-front town. WLF and his buddies found out where the girls' dormitory was. It was directly across the street from the beach. Enjoying the wonderful beach breezes, the girls kept their windows open at night as they slept.
Big. Mistake.
You see, nighttime is when the crabs come out. Hundreds of little crabs, all over the beach. And you really don't want to combine that wonder of nature with a group of college-aged young men who are on vacation with not much to do. Besides drink beer.
See where this is going? Yeah.
So WLF and his buddies grab buckets and start collecting crabs. Tons of them. They completely fill the buckets with live crabs. They wait until the lights in the dormitory had been out for about a half hour. Then they climb up the fire escape to the 2nd floor, walk over to the open window...........and begin to dump the buckets. Hundreds of crabs scurry all over the hardwood floors, making for a very creepy cacophony of little crustacean legs. But the sleeping women do not notice.
At first.
Giggling, WLF and his buddies ran back down the fire escape to sit on the curb across the street from the dormitory. They each pop a can of beer......and wait.
About 5 minutes later, the screaming starts. In between shrieks, WLF and his buddies can hear the crabs freaking out and scurrying around everywhere in packs, from one side of the room to the other. Soon they can tell all the girls are up, screaming bloody murder. The crabs are making even more noise than before, sliding all over the slick, hardwood floors. Someone switched on the lights, and then they really started screaming.
Meanwhile, WLF and his friends are laughing their asses off.
That is, until they hear the police sirens. One of the girls had called the cops.
WLF and his buddies start to run away. But WLF trips and falls. The cops are right up on them at this point, his friends are long gone, and WLF knew he had to think fast if he was going to avoid trouble. A pickup truck was parked down the street. WLF opened the door (unbelievably, it was unlocked) and quickly laid down on the seat as though he were sleeping.
Not even 15 seconds later, a cop raps at the window, looking for answers.
"Oh, no, officer. I have no idea what you're talking about. I've been asleep the whole time, here in my truck. I didn't see anything," he said drowsily.
"Hmph. Ok, well, thanks anyway," the cop said suspiciously.
My dad could never believe he didn't get busted on that one. But he was pretty proud of himself at the same time for his quick thinking. He never could tell that story without laughing so hard, he had tears running down his face.
By the way, this is only one of many stories involving my father and practical jokes. You could say it was a hobby of his.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Atlanta, an Alcoholic & Almost Girl
I'm not dead! Just very busy.
Thank you, everyone, for your thoughts and prayers for GP. She is doing a lot better now and should be going home at the end of the week. I appreciate your concern and sympathies. I think I'm going to make some cookies for them and mail them up there.
I was in Atlanta most of last week. I had to go to a conference. My hotel was right near here and here. So I took some time to do some window shopping in these ultra-swanky malls.
I bought a super cute purse (sorry, can't find a pic), but otherwise, it was easy to avoid temptation in a mall where prices start at $200. If I had the money, I would have bought something at this store because everything in there was SO me. But prices there started at about $350. Ouch. So purchasing stuff there will have to wait until I marry Julian McMahon.
Y'all, have you tried these new fancy beds they have in hotels now? Holy cow, they have a good thing going on with these beds. You sit on them and you're like, "Oh, wow, gosh, this is really comfzzzzzzzzzzzz............." and four hours later, you wake up. I highly recommend these beds. I am so getting one when Julian and I get married. Complete with their zillion-thread-count sheets. Then he and I can hump like rabbits in total Egyptian cotton bliss.
So....you are going to love this post. Because I have so much to share. (Shocker!!)
Let's start with Wednesday's blind date. Blonde set me up with a guy who is about 32, 33--somewhere in that range. She described him as a "cute partier", which, to my naive brain meant "fun and smoochable".
Because I had a lot of extra time to get ready, I decided to go all-out: black pencil skirt, fitted white stretchy top, metallic stilettos and smoky eye makeup. I even had time to put hot rollers in my hair, and DAMN I had a good hair day. Seriously. Top 5 hair days of all time.
Feeling very confident, I went to the bar where I was meeting up with Blonde, her boyfriend and my date. When they arrived, I have to say, I was a little disappointed. I had forgotten that Blonde's definition of "cute partier" was vastly different than mine. Apparently the "cute" part meant "not cute" and the "partier" part meant "alcoholic".
Between meeting up with me at the bar and then literally getting up to walk to our table, my date had polished off a vodka & water. I'm talking less than 5 minutes, here, peeps. He had another one immediately afterwards. So he had downed two of these in about 15 minutes. Now, it's been a long time since I've drunk alcohol, but it seems to me that vodka & water would be a rough combination, especially on an empty stomach--it was 9pm and he hadn't had any dinner. When the waitress came over to ask him if he wanted a 3rd vodka & water, I realized what was happening, and my jaw literally dropped. I thought he was still on his first drink!
I think he saw my reaction, because he switched to beer. Now, I know people get nervous on dates, especially blind dates. But this guy had alcoholic written all over him. He gave me a very hard time about the fact that I don't drink (always a sign, trust me). Every story he told involved drinking. He talks veeeeeeeerrrrrry slowly, to the point that he sounds stupid. I knew a guy like that once, in college. He was probably the biggest partier I'd ever met. So I know that his speech pattern was probably a result of years of heavy drinking and probably a lot of pot smoking, too.
You would think that his personality would improve with the alcohol consumption, but it didn't. He was boring and not funny. He just became quieter and quieter as he drank. Seriously, I could have had a V-8. It was bad. And seeing as how I dated a guy last year with questionable reactions to alcohol consumption, I'm not about to start dating another one. I am really over dating frat boys who never grew up. I am tired of the big partiers. I want a stable, mature man.
When he asked if he could take me to dinner sometime, I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from retorting, "Why? Because this is going so well?" But instead, I just replied flatly, "No. I'm sorry." He appreciated my honesty and then I excused myself and went home, all the while, wondering what in the hell Blonde was thinking by setting me up with him, and frustrated for wasting a good hair day.
As I pulled into my driveway, I realized with excitement that Hot Neighbor was pulling into his driveway at the same time. This was my big chance for him to see me looking nice for once. I got out and started walking to my door. He ran over to me. "Hey, girl. What's going on? You look great!"
Suh-weet. "This could not be better timing," I thought.
I told him about my lame date, and he sympathized. "How old was is?" he asked. "Oh, about 32 or 33. Somewhere in there," I answered.
"Gah, he's making us look bad!" he replied. And I thought, "Mmmm....no, not really....."
Looking back, I should have told him to set me up with a better 33-year-old....dang. Hate it when you think of good stuff to say only after it's too late!
Then he asked me about my super-secret project, and I told him I was basically aborting mission and thinking of an alternate route to my goal. (Sorry, I can't be more specific...) He told me he could help me by putting me in touch with the right people for an alternate plan I have considered in the past. He's going to drop off a list of names and numbers for me, hopefully soon.( Of course, he's obviously trying to figure out how he can see me again. Duh.)
We chatted some about our jobs and my dogs before parting ways.
By the time I went inside, he had told me I looked really great THREE times. He totally checked me out. Woot!!!!
Oh, and I asked him last Tuesday if he would take my trash can down to the curb on Friday, since I would be in Atlanta when the trash men came. He remembered. That scored some points with me, definitely. Gotta love a reliable guy. They are few and far between. Lord knows what I've had to deal with in the past...
Looking back, I should have asked him to get my mail for me, too, because then I would have an excuse to go knocking on his door....shoot. I'm not very good of thinking of the best thing to say at the time. It's because he makes me all nervous and jittery.
Did I mention that he knocked on my door the other day and I answered, wearing only a towel? Gosh. Hate when that happens. I had just gotten out of the shower and dried my hair. No makeup on yet, but I figured the "just a towel" factor sort of counter-acted that. He was asking me about K and if she had moved out. I told him she had. He said he would let me know if he knew anyone who would be interested in moving in with me. I realized only after it was too late that the whole time he was talking, I was, without realizing it, smiling and biting my lower lip. Yeesh. I am ridiculous.
Of course, in my head, the story kinda ends more like this: I "accidentally" drop my towel and he ends up pushing me against the wall and making me very, very late for dinner. Tee hee.
*pauses to imagine situation*
Ok, now that that's overwith....
Rob Thomas never called. Yeah. I feel pretty let down. It is kind of surprising to me, because I would have bet big bucks I had that in the bag. I totally got the whole, "Oh, we are so going to start dating now," thought in my brain. I have never been wrong with that gut feeling before. But there's a first time for everything. On Friday night I talked to his roommate, B, about it at Happy Hour.
"I think he's still hung up on his ex. They broke up last July and he was pretty devastated. She still calls him and leads him on," he explained.
"Are you kidding me???" I said in disbelief.
"Yeah. I'm sorry, VB. That's the only reason I can think of. But I think he's making a huge mistake, and I do think you two would be really good together. I could tell y'all had a good time, and he even said he had a good time. I just think that maybe he's not over his ex. He and I didn't talk about why he never called you, but that's what I think is going on," he said.
"I hate his ex-girlfriend, VB. Seriously, all his friends hate her. He's being an idiot," E chimed in. (Remember, my friend E is dating B, and they have been trying to get me hooked up with Rob Thomas for weeks.)
Soon after, as I was leaving with E, I proceeded to have a total meltdown. Feeling totally frustrated and rejected, I started crying in public. Right at the front door of the bar. Awesome. Love it when I do this. "That's it, E! I'm not dating anymore! I am so OVER this! I am done. Do you see? Do you see why I don't date? I can never catch a break. I'm always the runner-up girl. The 'almost' girl. Hot Neighbor almost asked me out once. Cute guys almost talk to me. The Magician almost called me. [Ok, I don't know if he ever considered calling me, but to my rejection-fueled brain, this made sense at the time.] Rob Thomas and I almost started dating. I am sick of it!" I bawled.
Of course, as luck would have it, B walked up right in the middle of this meltdown. I know he won't say anything to Rob, but still. I didn't want him to think I was so upset about all of this. And I wasn't -- I had been driving in Atlanta/Columbia traffic all day and had been running around like a chicken since I had gotten up that morning. I was exhausted. When I'm exhausted, I cry. To be honest, I had no business even going out on Friday. Stubbing my toe, contemplating world peace or talking about Paris Hilton's jail time would have made me cry, too. My tears were just looking for an excuse to make an appearance. B&E sat with me and calmed me down. They said a lot of things that made me feel better. (My favorite? "He's making a huge mistake."-- I love hearing that.) I took some deep breaths and got in my car and drove home.
It's nice that they are pulling for me. They were worried that I would not feel comfortable hanging out at B's house, since Rob would be there. I told them it's ok and that I would be fine. They want to have a cookout soon, and they really want me to go. I will go, but I just have to make sure I look smokin' hot and bring something totally delicious (toffee cheesecake??). I don't think it will be too awkward. I will be nice to him. But distant.
After all this, I think I may officially give up entirely on dating. When you look back on your dating history and realize that every ex-boyfriend is worse than the last, that's not good. When you are getting set up with alcoholics, I think that is a sign you might want to just throw in the towel. And sure, Hot Neighbor checked me out. But that's a long way from asking me out. (Remember, I am "almost girl"). I'm sure Wednesday Skank is still on the scene (although, I haven't seen her in a while...). And yes, it is nice that Rob and I hit it off, but it's obviously never going to happen. I am tired of dating guys who seem nice at first, only to throw me onto an emotional rollercoaster and hurt me. It's soooo much easier to just be alone. I hate being Almost Girl. I'm tired of it. It's better to be Alone Girl.
Thank you, everyone, for your thoughts and prayers for GP. She is doing a lot better now and should be going home at the end of the week. I appreciate your concern and sympathies. I think I'm going to make some cookies for them and mail them up there.
I was in Atlanta most of last week. I had to go to a conference. My hotel was right near here and here. So I took some time to do some window shopping in these ultra-swanky malls.
I bought a super cute purse (sorry, can't find a pic), but otherwise, it was easy to avoid temptation in a mall where prices start at $200. If I had the money, I would have bought something at this store because everything in there was SO me. But prices there started at about $350. Ouch. So purchasing stuff there will have to wait until I marry Julian McMahon.
Y'all, have you tried these new fancy beds they have in hotels now? Holy cow, they have a good thing going on with these beds. You sit on them and you're like, "Oh, wow, gosh, this is really comfzzzzzzzzzzzz............." and four hours later, you wake up. I highly recommend these beds. I am so getting one when Julian and I get married. Complete with their zillion-thread-count sheets. Then he and I can hump like rabbits in total Egyptian cotton bliss.
So....you are going to love this post. Because I have so much to share. (Shocker!!)
Let's start with Wednesday's blind date. Blonde set me up with a guy who is about 32, 33--somewhere in that range. She described him as a "cute partier", which, to my naive brain meant "fun and smoochable".
Because I had a lot of extra time to get ready, I decided to go all-out: black pencil skirt, fitted white stretchy top, metallic stilettos and smoky eye makeup. I even had time to put hot rollers in my hair, and DAMN I had a good hair day. Seriously. Top 5 hair days of all time.
Feeling very confident, I went to the bar where I was meeting up with Blonde, her boyfriend and my date. When they arrived, I have to say, I was a little disappointed. I had forgotten that Blonde's definition of "cute partier" was vastly different than mine. Apparently the "cute" part meant "not cute" and the "partier" part meant "alcoholic".
Between meeting up with me at the bar and then literally getting up to walk to our table, my date had polished off a vodka & water. I'm talking less than 5 minutes, here, peeps. He had another one immediately afterwards. So he had downed two of these in about 15 minutes. Now, it's been a long time since I've drunk alcohol, but it seems to me that vodka & water would be a rough combination, especially on an empty stomach--it was 9pm and he hadn't had any dinner. When the waitress came over to ask him if he wanted a 3rd vodka & water, I realized what was happening, and my jaw literally dropped. I thought he was still on his first drink!
I think he saw my reaction, because he switched to beer. Now, I know people get nervous on dates, especially blind dates. But this guy had alcoholic written all over him. He gave me a very hard time about the fact that I don't drink (always a sign, trust me). Every story he told involved drinking. He talks veeeeeeeerrrrrry slowly, to the point that he sounds stupid. I knew a guy like that once, in college. He was probably the biggest partier I'd ever met. So I know that his speech pattern was probably a result of years of heavy drinking and probably a lot of pot smoking, too.
You would think that his personality would improve with the alcohol consumption, but it didn't. He was boring and not funny. He just became quieter and quieter as he drank. Seriously, I could have had a V-8. It was bad. And seeing as how I dated a guy last year with questionable reactions to alcohol consumption, I'm not about to start dating another one. I am really over dating frat boys who never grew up. I am tired of the big partiers. I want a stable, mature man.
When he asked if he could take me to dinner sometime, I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from retorting, "Why? Because this is going so well?" But instead, I just replied flatly, "No. I'm sorry." He appreciated my honesty and then I excused myself and went home, all the while, wondering what in the hell Blonde was thinking by setting me up with him, and frustrated for wasting a good hair day.
As I pulled into my driveway, I realized with excitement that Hot Neighbor was pulling into his driveway at the same time. This was my big chance for him to see me looking nice for once. I got out and started walking to my door. He ran over to me. "Hey, girl. What's going on? You look great!"
Suh-weet. "This could not be better timing," I thought.
I told him about my lame date, and he sympathized. "How old was is?" he asked. "Oh, about 32 or 33. Somewhere in there," I answered.
"Gah, he's making us look bad!" he replied. And I thought, "Mmmm....no, not really....."
Looking back, I should have told him to set me up with a better 33-year-old....dang. Hate it when you think of good stuff to say only after it's too late!
Then he asked me about my super-secret project, and I told him I was basically aborting mission and thinking of an alternate route to my goal. (Sorry, I can't be more specific...) He told me he could help me by putting me in touch with the right people for an alternate plan I have considered in the past. He's going to drop off a list of names and numbers for me, hopefully soon.( Of course, he's obviously trying to figure out how he can see me again. Duh.)
We chatted some about our jobs and my dogs before parting ways.
By the time I went inside, he had told me I looked really great THREE times. He totally checked me out. Woot!!!!
Oh, and I asked him last Tuesday if he would take my trash can down to the curb on Friday, since I would be in Atlanta when the trash men came. He remembered. That scored some points with me, definitely. Gotta love a reliable guy. They are few and far between. Lord knows what I've had to deal with in the past...
Looking back, I should have asked him to get my mail for me, too, because then I would have an excuse to go knocking on his door....shoot. I'm not very good of thinking of the best thing to say at the time. It's because he makes me all nervous and jittery.
Did I mention that he knocked on my door the other day and I answered, wearing only a towel? Gosh. Hate when that happens. I had just gotten out of the shower and dried my hair. No makeup on yet, but I figured the "just a towel" factor sort of counter-acted that. He was asking me about K and if she had moved out. I told him she had. He said he would let me know if he knew anyone who would be interested in moving in with me. I realized only after it was too late that the whole time he was talking, I was, without realizing it, smiling and biting my lower lip. Yeesh. I am ridiculous.
Of course, in my head, the story kinda ends more like this: I "accidentally" drop my towel and he ends up pushing me against the wall and making me very, very late for dinner. Tee hee.
*pauses to imagine situation*
Ok, now that that's overwith....
Rob Thomas never called. Yeah. I feel pretty let down. It is kind of surprising to me, because I would have bet big bucks I had that in the bag. I totally got the whole, "Oh, we are so going to start dating now," thought in my brain. I have never been wrong with that gut feeling before. But there's a first time for everything. On Friday night I talked to his roommate, B, about it at Happy Hour.
"I think he's still hung up on his ex. They broke up last July and he was pretty devastated. She still calls him and leads him on," he explained.
"Are you kidding me???" I said in disbelief.
"Yeah. I'm sorry, VB. That's the only reason I can think of. But I think he's making a huge mistake, and I do think you two would be really good together. I could tell y'all had a good time, and he even said he had a good time. I just think that maybe he's not over his ex. He and I didn't talk about why he never called you, but that's what I think is going on," he said.
"I hate his ex-girlfriend, VB. Seriously, all his friends hate her. He's being an idiot," E chimed in. (Remember, my friend E is dating B, and they have been trying to get me hooked up with Rob Thomas for weeks.)
Soon after, as I was leaving with E, I proceeded to have a total meltdown. Feeling totally frustrated and rejected, I started crying in public. Right at the front door of the bar. Awesome. Love it when I do this. "That's it, E! I'm not dating anymore! I am so OVER this! I am done. Do you see? Do you see why I don't date? I can never catch a break. I'm always the runner-up girl. The 'almost' girl. Hot Neighbor almost asked me out once. Cute guys almost talk to me. The Magician almost called me. [Ok, I don't know if he ever considered calling me, but to my rejection-fueled brain, this made sense at the time.] Rob Thomas and I almost started dating. I am sick of it!" I bawled.
Of course, as luck would have it, B walked up right in the middle of this meltdown. I know he won't say anything to Rob, but still. I didn't want him to think I was so upset about all of this. And I wasn't -- I had been driving in Atlanta/Columbia traffic all day and had been running around like a chicken since I had gotten up that morning. I was exhausted. When I'm exhausted, I cry. To be honest, I had no business even going out on Friday. Stubbing my toe, contemplating world peace or talking about Paris Hilton's jail time would have made me cry, too. My tears were just looking for an excuse to make an appearance. B&E sat with me and calmed me down. They said a lot of things that made me feel better. (My favorite? "He's making a huge mistake."-- I love hearing that.) I took some deep breaths and got in my car and drove home.
It's nice that they are pulling for me. They were worried that I would not feel comfortable hanging out at B's house, since Rob would be there. I told them it's ok and that I would be fine. They want to have a cookout soon, and they really want me to go. I will go, but I just have to make sure I look smokin' hot and bring something totally delicious (toffee cheesecake??). I don't think it will be too awkward. I will be nice to him. But distant.
After all this, I think I may officially give up entirely on dating. When you look back on your dating history and realize that every ex-boyfriend is worse than the last, that's not good. When you are getting set up with alcoholics, I think that is a sign you might want to just throw in the towel. And sure, Hot Neighbor checked me out. But that's a long way from asking me out. (Remember, I am "almost girl"). I'm sure Wednesday Skank is still on the scene (although, I haven't seen her in a while...). And yes, it is nice that Rob and I hit it off, but it's obviously never going to happen. I am tired of dating guys who seem nice at first, only to throw me onto an emotional rollercoaster and hurt me. It's soooo much easier to just be alone. I hate being Almost Girl. I'm tired of it. It's better to be Alone Girl.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Thursday 13
Yay! Haven't done one of these in a while...
This is a total cop-out topic, but you can bite me. This is my blog. Not yours. Only boring people have organized brains. Mine is totally bonkers this week. There is so much rattling around in there. Take, for example...
1. My super-secret project is in full swing right now. That's why I haven't been posting a lot this week. Am super busy. Next week I will have more time. I know, I haven't read your blog. I am sorry. I will do better next week, promise! I will try and get to some blogs on Sunday. I probably won't even post tomorrow (Friday).
2. I have NOT forgotten that I have to interview Coco, Meghan and Lowtide. I will get to you, I promise!!! It is written down on like 5 different little sheets of paper. The papers are on my desk at work, my desk at home, in my purse, etc. So there is no way I will forget.
3. I am on this running kick. I have discovered that if I run a little more slowly, and outside (rather than on a treadmill), I can run twice as far with less pain! Woot! I ran/walked 4 miles in an hour the other day. Which is good for me. So I'm all about running (ok, who are we kidding? I will be jogging.) all 4 miles straight. That is my goal. It would be going better if my body could handle running every day. My legs hurt and I'm nursing some blisters the size of dinner plates right now. Ouch. Anyone know how to stop the blisters? I have heard that putting Vaseline on your feet helps. These dang blisters are the main thing holding me back.
4. Am wigging out about money. K is moving out this weekend. I had some unexpected bills this month, and they put a dent in my checking account cushion. Guess I will have to really think about getting a roommate or 2nd job. I don't understand why I need so much money! It's ridiculous. I used to be able to live on $19,000 and now, anything less than $33,000 is like poverty to me. Then again, I have a mortgage now....which is a little more than the rent I paid when I was fresh out of college and living in a shack. Man, do I miss those $400 rent bills........
5. Hot Neighbor wants me. Maybe. Ok, maybe not. But his kids love me. They were outside playing the other day. They asked me if they could pet my dogs, so I brought them out. Then I gave the girls popsicles. They are such polite, cute little girls. (I am thinking maybe he's only got 2 kids...because I haven't seen a 3rd kid at all, really. So I'm going to have to adjust that little fact.) Wednesday Skank hasn't been over ALL WEEK. Which kicks ass. Which is why HN and I were talking in my front yard as his kids were eating my popsicles. I LOVE it when she's not around. And I bet she doesn't have popsicles in her freezer.
6.. Ok, so maybe I had on some short shorts coincidentally at the same time they were playing outside. And just maybe I was coincidentally reading a book on my front porch when he got home with kids in tow. But it wasn't really on purpose.
7. More importantly, I have not been asked out on a date of any kind since....um, October, I think. This dry spell is starting to worry me. Why are guys willing to check me out (ie, last Saturday night) but not ASK me out? Am I intimidating? Do I come off as snooty? A bitch? What? I wish someone would film me when I'm around cute guys at bars, in the gym, etc. And then I wish a panel of guys could watch the film and tell me what I'm doing wrong. Dammit, someone needs to ask me out before I resort to online dating again. Gah, that was hell. Also see here and here. Hmmm....it sure does make for good blogging material, though....
8. WHY does this video clip make me giggle like a little kid? Why is it so freaking funny to me?? Dubya isn't acting any stupider than usual.
9. I think Toby needs to be on Ritalin. Seriously, the dog is nuts. He is full of anxiety. He makes laps around the house all. day. long. He acts like he's looking for something, when in reality, there is nothing there. It's almost like he doesn't know what to do with himself, so he just makes laps or pretends to be looking for stuff. He is convinced that his toy is under the couch at all times, when all the toys are out in the middle of the floor. I have even tilted the couch back so he could go under it, only to find nothing. When I put the couch back down, he still dug at it and whined like his toy was under it. The dog is smoking crack. [VB stops and visualizes Toby with crack pipe sticking out of his mouth.] I don't know if he's just not used to my house yet, or if he's not used to being inside....but I wish he would stop. I mean, it's not a big deal during the day, but by 11:00pm, it gets old. Even Sammy looks at me, and I can tell by the look on his face that he is annoyed by Toby. I have to crate Toby at night, because he will get up in the middle of the night and bark and make laps, which wakes me up. Anyone familiar with this problem? Any advice?
10. I have got to do something about my cable bill. Because $125/month is killing me. I'm calling tomorrow and getting rid of DVR (which I never use and which doesn't work properly anyway) and HBO On Demand (which I love love love -- *sniff!*). Back to basic cable for me. Then I am going to investigate some other Internet options. Right now my cable company charges me $44/month. I am not interested in dial-up or high-speed dial-up. My computer is slow enough as it is. So People PC and NetZero are out for me. I don't have a land line phone, anyway, so those options wouldn't really save me any money. Hmmmm....maybe I will give DirecTV a call. They do Internet now. Anyone have any ideas/advice for this?? And no, I don't have a laptop, in case you are wondering. I wish I did. We have sooooo many free hotspots here in town. Some of them are even outside, which would be sooooo nice this time of year. Get a drink, grab a cafe table....ahhhh. Bliss.
11. I have umpteen recipes I need to post on Virginia Cooks (my other blog--see sidebar). Shoot. For some reason, I only remember this when I am at work, not at home, where my recipes are. I will let everyone know when I do so.
12. From the "Things That Keep Me Awake at Night" file, I bring you this news story. Only in SC could something this backwards and sick occur. Seriously. I mean, I love living here, but stuff like this doesn't happen ANYWHERE else. It's stuff like this that makes this state the butt of all those Redneck/Hick/Inbred jokes. And aside from the disgusting man who did this, I am also bothered by the fact that NINE year olds are MENSTRUATING.
13. Gwen Stefani is playing in Charlotte on May 12. Do I want to spend the money on this? I am a HUGE fan. I saw No Doubt once, and it was probably the best concert I've ever been to. Hmmm...I'm thinking I will have to just find the money for a ticket...
Monday, April 23, 2007
Reasons #19 and #24
Filed under why my job is cool sometimes:
#19 -- You can settle bets with friends. MJ and I were debating on whether or not grits were made from the entire cob or just the kernels. She said cob, I said kernels. Found out this morning: kernels only. The cobs are good for nothing other than making them into corncob pipes. I win. Woot!
#24 -- You can really stalk people. Today, in about 5 seconds, I learned Hot Neighbor's last name, his ex-wife's name, the date of their marriage and their former address. I learned that he moved in only 6 months before I did AND he paid about $7k less for his house than I did, although our homes are identical. I also learned how old he is -- 32. If I wanted to take the time to do so, I know how to go downtown and look up their divorce record, wedding announcement and maybe some other stuff. But that is much more effort than I'm willing to invest. Especially since he's probably interested in me for the sole reason that I can babysit for him. (Thanks to my straight hairdresser for being oh-so-certain that's what HN wanted that one time.)
Speaking of HN, let me tell you about Wednesday Skank (WS). She showed up at his house on Saturday evening, wearing a black dress with a hem so short she probably could not bend over in the dress. Seriously, y'all, she looked like a hooker. I mean, I like short skirts on occasion, but this one made me blush on her behalf. Paired with red stilettos, she looked trashy. I'm thinking now that she could be a stripper.
Then again, maybe the fact that I wear jeans all the time is why he's out with her and not me...
But you know what? She's just some stupid bimbo. He's probably using her to rub it in his ex's face or something. Maybe he's having an early mid-life crisis. Who knows. But I can say that if she keeps coming over to his house every day, he's going to get sick of her pretty quick. I don't care how lonely you are, everyone needs space.
Guess I will just sit back and wait for their relationship to implode. Then I can swoop in and make him fall madly in love with me.
Although, do I want to date someone who's into girls like that to begin with? Hmmm. Dunno.
Friday night I hung out with MJ and we made quite the pub crawl -- I think we hit 5 bars, plus late-night pizza before heading home. The good news was, we discovered a cool new bar. Gotta love that. While we were there, I did talk to one guy, and although cute, he wasn't funny or smart. He gave me his number, but I will never call him. Funny is a must-have.
I chopped my hair off on Saturday. Not completely, just shoulder-length. With some long bangs and layers that like to fall in my face. I am loving the new 'do. It's very freeing. It moves a lot. And based on my experiences Saturday night when I went out, it's also a hit with guys. I don't know why, but I had about 3 different guys approach me. Maybe it was the low-cut satin tank top....Not much to write home about, but it's good for the ol' ego. Woot!
Wait, I take that back. One of them was cute, but he had some serious cock-blockage issues. He was out at the bars with a man who was about 60-65. Now, some wing-women can deal with talking to a senior citizen while her girl chats with a guy. But not many. Most girls I know would struggle, feel awkward, escape to the bathroom and give me a hard time about it later. Besides, I don't really want to be that friend who pawns off old men on her friends so she can give a guy her number in a few minutes. I had no choice but to politely blow him off. (Any opinions on this decision? I have never really been in that situation before. I mean, talking to another wingman is one thing, but a grandpa? Just seems creepy and awkward. I felt bad putting my friend in that position. Keep in mind this old guy didn't seem to have much personality. He just kinda stood there.)
Sunday I went to dinner with MJ and got to meet her parents, who are in town this week. I managed to make a total ass out of myself by going off on the Post Office, when everyone started laughing at me. It turns out that Mr. Jane is....a mailman. Yeah. Great first impression. Luckily, he has the same wonderful sense of humor as his daughter, and it was all taken in stride. WHEW.
After dinner, we all got in our respective cars and met up at an ice cream parlor. The best parking spot just happened to be right in front of a picnic table full of hottie firemen. They were all eating ice cream. Their fire truck was parked across the street. [Insert single girl, Backdraft-style fireman/ice cream fantasy here.]
I know you are expecting me to have some kind of cool, exciting story here, but true to form, I completely chickened out. I think I made a half-assed attempt at smiling at them, but basically choked and just crossed the street to the ice cream parlor. What can I say?? I can handle maybe 2 hottie firemen at a table. But 5? Unh-unh. No way. That is ultra-intimidating. I totally freaked and bolted. Mmmm...that's hot.
Ugh, I should be ashamed of myself. Especially since I caught them smiling at me. They definitely wanted me to talk to them. WHY do I chicken out at the MOST opportune times??? Aaaargh. I do this with HN, too. I am a doofus. No wonder I am alone.
Excuse me, I have to go bang my head against the wall now.
#19 -- You can settle bets with friends. MJ and I were debating on whether or not grits were made from the entire cob or just the kernels. She said cob, I said kernels. Found out this morning: kernels only. The cobs are good for nothing other than making them into corncob pipes. I win. Woot!
#24 -- You can really stalk people. Today, in about 5 seconds, I learned Hot Neighbor's last name, his ex-wife's name, the date of their marriage and their former address. I learned that he moved in only 6 months before I did AND he paid about $7k less for his house than I did, although our homes are identical. I also learned how old he is -- 32. If I wanted to take the time to do so, I know how to go downtown and look up their divorce record, wedding announcement and maybe some other stuff. But that is much more effort than I'm willing to invest. Especially since he's probably interested in me for the sole reason that I can babysit for him. (Thanks to my straight hairdresser for being oh-so-certain that's what HN wanted that one time.)
Speaking of HN, let me tell you about Wednesday Skank (WS). She showed up at his house on Saturday evening, wearing a black dress with a hem so short she probably could not bend over in the dress. Seriously, y'all, she looked like a hooker. I mean, I like short skirts on occasion, but this one made me blush on her behalf. Paired with red stilettos, she looked trashy. I'm thinking now that she could be a stripper.
Then again, maybe the fact that I wear jeans all the time is why he's out with her and not me...
But you know what? She's just some stupid bimbo. He's probably using her to rub it in his ex's face or something. Maybe he's having an early mid-life crisis. Who knows. But I can say that if she keeps coming over to his house every day, he's going to get sick of her pretty quick. I don't care how lonely you are, everyone needs space.
Guess I will just sit back and wait for their relationship to implode. Then I can swoop in and make him fall madly in love with me.
Although, do I want to date someone who's into girls like that to begin with? Hmmm. Dunno.
Friday night I hung out with MJ and we made quite the pub crawl -- I think we hit 5 bars, plus late-night pizza before heading home. The good news was, we discovered a cool new bar. Gotta love that. While we were there, I did talk to one guy, and although cute, he wasn't funny or smart. He gave me his number, but I will never call him. Funny is a must-have.
I chopped my hair off on Saturday. Not completely, just shoulder-length. With some long bangs and layers that like to fall in my face. I am loving the new 'do. It's very freeing. It moves a lot. And based on my experiences Saturday night when I went out, it's also a hit with guys. I don't know why, but I had about 3 different guys approach me. Maybe it was the low-cut satin tank top....Not much to write home about, but it's good for the ol' ego. Woot!
Wait, I take that back. One of them was cute, but he had some serious cock-blockage issues. He was out at the bars with a man who was about 60-65. Now, some wing-women can deal with talking to a senior citizen while her girl chats with a guy. But not many. Most girls I know would struggle, feel awkward, escape to the bathroom and give me a hard time about it later. Besides, I don't really want to be that friend who pawns off old men on her friends so she can give a guy her number in a few minutes. I had no choice but to politely blow him off. (Any opinions on this decision? I have never really been in that situation before. I mean, talking to another wingman is one thing, but a grandpa? Just seems creepy and awkward. I felt bad putting my friend in that position. Keep in mind this old guy didn't seem to have much personality. He just kinda stood there.)
Sunday I went to dinner with MJ and got to meet her parents, who are in town this week. I managed to make a total ass out of myself by going off on the Post Office, when everyone started laughing at me. It turns out that Mr. Jane is....a mailman. Yeah. Great first impression. Luckily, he has the same wonderful sense of humor as his daughter, and it was all taken in stride. WHEW.
After dinner, we all got in our respective cars and met up at an ice cream parlor. The best parking spot just happened to be right in front of a picnic table full of hottie firemen. They were all eating ice cream. Their fire truck was parked across the street. [Insert single girl, Backdraft-style fireman/ice cream fantasy here.]
I know you are expecting me to have some kind of cool, exciting story here, but true to form, I completely chickened out. I think I made a half-assed attempt at smiling at them, but basically choked and just crossed the street to the ice cream parlor. What can I say?? I can handle maybe 2 hottie firemen at a table. But 5? Unh-unh. No way. That is ultra-intimidating. I totally freaked and bolted. Mmmm...that's hot.
Ugh, I should be ashamed of myself. Especially since I caught them smiling at me. They definitely wanted me to talk to them. WHY do I chicken out at the MOST opportune times??? Aaaargh. I do this with HN, too. I am a doofus. No wonder I am alone.
Excuse me, I have to go bang my head against the wall now.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
No Whining Zone
Well, today's post was going to consist of me whining about
A) my cold that won't go away *cough! hack! sniff*
B) the fact that Toby woke me up at 5:15 this morning to bark at nothing, then jump on my face and stick his tongue up my nose
C) how Hot Neighbor seems about as interested in me as he does the salmon he rejected
D) my hormonally-influenced state of mind which is 98% positive I will never go on a date again and will instead wither up and die alone, with no one other than my mother and dogs to mourn me
E) what on earth I'm going to do when K moves out in 10 days, as this will leave me in somewhat of a financially challenging situation.
However, due to
A) the tragedy at Virginia Tech
B) the war in the Middle East
C) my deep desire to retain my readers
D) the hatred I possess for feelings of self-loathing
E) my recent discovery that one of my ex-boyfriends is dating a girl who makes him wear bow-ties that match the fabric of her dress (I'll let you guess as to who I'm referring to), a concept that makes me snort with laughter
I feel today is just not a good day to whine about my life. So this post will instead consist of warm fuzzy feelings, butterflies, laughing babies, glitter and unicorns. With sprinkles on top and spirit fingers to boot.
Ok, not so much. But this is a Whine-Free-Zone. Time to suck it up, Chuck. It ain't that bad. Everything will work out just fine, yadda yadda. Among my favorite ways to feel better about myself are to
A) watch Courtv -- no matter how bad my life is, at least I didn't get arrested today
B) eat ice cream
C) do something nice for other people
D) exercise
E) bitch
F) do something productive
"E" is just not an option today, as already discussed. My entire upper body is currently reminding me how I have already checked off choice "D" from this list -- thank you, Tuesday Night Meathead Weight Class Instructor Man. "A" and "B" can be taken care of after dinner tonight. Which leaves me with "C" and "F". Oh wait, I'm blogging. That definitely doesn't fall under the "F" category. I am left with "C".
CMK emailed me the other day to inform me that she has nominated me for a Thinking Blogger Award. Aww, so sweet. I am very flattered. And confused. Mostly because there is very little thinking involved in my blog writing. I usually just kind of log on and the crap starts spewing from my brain. Better descriptors for my blog would be
A) anal-retentive (as evidenced by my obnoctious over-usage of lists today)
B) whiny
C) venty (is that a word? perhaps "bitchy" would be better?)
D) silly
E) self-absorbed
F) pathetic
So the deal is, now I have to nominate 5 people for this award. Which is difficult, as I try my best to read about 85 different blogs at last count. (So in case you are wondering, this is why I will comment-bomb you once every 2 months, and then will seemingly disappear on your ass! Ah! Lightbulb! Yeah, so spare me the guilt trip, alright?) In keeping with the theme of this award (and I am a girl who is both a rules-follower AND a lover of all things themed), these are the blogs which make me think about stuff. I will catch myself pondering their writing while driving, showering or walking on the treadmill at the gym. And let me tell ya what -- to get my somewhat ADD-frazzled mind to be thinking about something more than once in a day is quite a feat for any writer! Without further ado:
Oh crap. My stupid guilt just kicked in. Inside my little brain are the following sentences:
But this will hurt people's feelings!
Maybe you should just say thanks to CMK and just conveniently "forget" to nominate!
The main reason you read most blogs is because they are funny, not because they make you think! You are unqualified to make this call! A call that will hurt people's feelings, no less!
Perhaps you can break just this one, tiny rule and nominate everyone?
Shut it, brain! Stop thinking! Just do the assignment and be done with it! No one is going to hate you for this. Ok? Ok. *ahem* In alphabetical order:
1. Awkward Things I Say to Girls -- because Justin gives me a peek into the male mind...and I am starting to think I understand men. Ok, who am I kidding. But I did just use the word "think" when talking about this blog, so yeah. That counts.
2. Anne's blog -- Um, I need Anne to help me with this one, because I can't remember if she is keeping it a secret or not....her anonymity was discovered, so she changed the URL, and I don't know if her blog is secret now or what...anyway, I will not link to it here until I get her permission. My point is, Anne has cancer and she is wicked awesome. She has opened my eyes to what it's like to have major health problems, the delicious flavor combination that is artificial grape flavoring and pickles AND keeps reminding me of how wonderful life can be, even when it seemingly sucks. Now THAT is food for thought. I love you, Anne. I think about you all the time. You just don't know it. But if you looked outside your living room window, you would see me with binoculars, watching you from across the street. Kidding.
3. Gaijin Girl -- she is a newlywed, and she and her hubs are spending their first year of marriage living in Japan, teaching English to Japanese people. So. Cool. And inspiring. This blog makes me think about what it would be like to do that. And kinda makes me want to do it! Only, sans husband, obviously. Maybe I could bring Sammy...? (No, I am not kidding, actually. I have always wanted to do that. And the older I get, the more appealing this idea sounds to me...shhh! Don't tell my little sister, Smurf. She would cry. Don't be surprised if I up and move to Russia one day, peeps. You have been warned.)
4. Jennster -- Is this one a cop-out because it's so popular? Whatever, I don't care. These are MY picks, people! MINE! Ster is (almost) married to a wonderful man, and she has a little boy. She is the coolest -- funny, smart, passionate and silly. Who doesn't like her blog?? Probably crack smokers. That's about all I can come up with. Maybe the Pope. I don't really see him being into it, either. Sorry, Ster. She gives me a glimpse into what it's like to be a mom, which is a pretty outrageous daydream for me, considering the current state of my love life. She pretty much covers all kinds of thinking situations: Mom issues, wedding issues, family issues, friends issues, work issues, being a woman issues, politics......you never know what you're gonna get over there. But you will get lots of things that make you think. Or snort your drink through your nose. It depends.
5. Ok, I really wanted to put Postsecret in this slot, as it is probably THE Thinking Blogger Blog, but I don't think the guy who runs it has time to nominate other people. So due to his EXTREME popularity and busy lifestyle, he has unwittingly eliminated himself from this sort of thing. Too bad, so sad. What a drawback for having what is probably the #1 blog on the internet. Besides Dooce, maybe. And I don't read that blog, so obviously she's out, too. Instead, in this slot I will place....I will place.....crap, this is hard. You see, most of the blogs I read are read because they make me laugh, like Kevin Charnas or Sam's Stories. See, they think up the funny stuff, I just laugh at it. There's not really any thinking involved when you are laughing at fart stories. A lot of the other blogs I read are for my own sanity, ie, they remind me that I am not the only 28 year old woman who is still single (THANK YOU, Charming, MJ, BCOL and all the other single girl bloggers out there!).
Wow, how's that for stalling??
Instead, I will have to put The Bad Girl's Guide here in slot #5. Crap, now it's no longer an alphabetical list. Dangit, I am not fixing that problem. You just have to let some things go. Oh, so Bad Girl's Guide. Yes. Vixen writes fantastic columns (posts? I dunno, they read like columns) about all things relationship-oriented. And she's always spot-on in her advice. Her topics are timely, she's not afraid to bring up taboo topics (which really appeals to the pervert in me) and she just reeks of womanly confidence and power. She shoots from the hip and is very fair in her views. *sigh* Women like her make me proud to be in the same gender.
Alright, peeps. I know that the people I just nominated read my blog every day (RIGHT???? Because it kicks ass!!!) so they need to follow these steps now before I mail them their brain-shaped statuette of genuine gold plastic, which has a retail value of approximately $8.95:
1. If, and only if, you get tagged, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think,
2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme,
3. Optional: Proudly display the 'Thinking Blogger Award' with a link to the post that you wrote (here is an alternative silver version if gold doesn't fit your blog)
If you were not nominated, please do not go home and cry into your pillow, because
A) this causes me to feel the horrible urge to make fun of you and/or beat you to a bloody pulp for being a wuss
B) if I didn't like your blog, I would not read it in the first place
C) this meme is currently going around at about the same rate as the common cold, and I'm sure someone will soon nominate you. I mean, I was nominated, for Pete's sake. Come on. Obviously not the most stringent list of qualificatons. Be patient, little one.
D) There were only 5 slots. FIVE. I read a LOT of blogs, people.
E) I didn't feel comfortable nominating blogs of people I know/practically know in real life, as I thought it might look bad/biased. Likewise, I didn't nominate the blogs that serve mainly to entertain me with hilarious stories. This isn't a popularity contest, it's a nomination for stuff that makes me think. So stop crying and smile because this means either
1) you are lucky enough to know me in real life, or at least know what I look like
2) you are extremely funny
And now that my obsessive list-making has reached a new level of absurdity, I will say goodbye for today.
* This is my oh-so-subtle attempt at getting my readers to submit optimistic stories about how they didn't meet their spouses until they were 32 and cynical and guarded and overweight and had totally given up all hope of ever finding true love before they were 6 feet under, only to randomly find the love of their life hiding under a rock, inexplicably, and now they are living happily ever after and would like to share their story and remind me that hanging myself over a curtain rod is not the only solution to my problem, but instead I should start looking under some rocks. Or begin to write sentences that are not run-ons. *ahem*
A) my cold that won't go away *cough! hack! sniff*
B) the fact that Toby woke me up at 5:15 this morning to bark at nothing, then jump on my face and stick his tongue up my nose
C) how Hot Neighbor seems about as interested in me as he does the salmon he rejected
D) my hormonally-influenced state of mind which is 98% positive I will never go on a date again and will instead wither up and die alone, with no one other than my mother and dogs to mourn me
E) what on earth I'm going to do when K moves out in 10 days, as this will leave me in somewhat of a financially challenging situation.
However, due to
A) the tragedy at Virginia Tech
B) the war in the Middle East
C) my deep desire to retain my readers
D) the hatred I possess for feelings of self-loathing
E) my recent discovery that one of my ex-boyfriends is dating a girl who makes him wear bow-ties that match the fabric of her dress (I'll let you guess as to who I'm referring to), a concept that makes me snort with laughter
I feel today is just not a good day to whine about my life. So this post will instead consist of warm fuzzy feelings, butterflies, laughing babies, glitter and unicorns. With sprinkles on top and spirit fingers to boot.
Ok, not so much. But this is a Whine-Free-Zone. Time to suck it up, Chuck. It ain't that bad. Everything will work out just fine, yadda yadda. Among my favorite ways to feel better about myself are to
A) watch Courtv -- no matter how bad my life is, at least I didn't get arrested today
B) eat ice cream
C) do something nice for other people
D) exercise
E) bitch
F) do something productive
"E" is just not an option today, as already discussed. My entire upper body is currently reminding me how I have already checked off choice "D" from this list -- thank you, Tuesday Night Meathead Weight Class Instructor Man. "A" and "B" can be taken care of after dinner tonight. Which leaves me with "C" and "F". Oh wait, I'm blogging. That definitely doesn't fall under the "F" category. I am left with "C".
CMK emailed me the other day to inform me that she has nominated me for a Thinking Blogger Award. Aww, so sweet. I am very flattered. And confused. Mostly because there is very little thinking involved in my blog writing. I usually just kind of log on and the crap starts spewing from my brain. Better descriptors for my blog would be
A) anal-retentive (as evidenced by my obnoctious over-usage of lists today)
B) whiny
C) venty (is that a word? perhaps "bitchy" would be better?)
D) silly
E) self-absorbed
F) pathetic
So the deal is, now I have to nominate 5 people for this award. Which is difficult, as I try my best to read about 85 different blogs at last count. (So in case you are wondering, this is why I will comment-bomb you once every 2 months, and then will seemingly disappear on your ass! Ah! Lightbulb! Yeah, so spare me the guilt trip, alright?) In keeping with the theme of this award (and I am a girl who is both a rules-follower AND a lover of all things themed), these are the blogs which make me think about stuff. I will catch myself pondering their writing while driving, showering or walking on the treadmill at the gym. And let me tell ya what -- to get my somewhat ADD-frazzled mind to be thinking about something more than once in a day is quite a feat for any writer! Without further ado:
Oh crap. My stupid guilt just kicked in. Inside my little brain are the following sentences:
But this will hurt people's feelings!
Maybe you should just say thanks to CMK and just conveniently "forget" to nominate!
The main reason you read most blogs is because they are funny, not because they make you think! You are unqualified to make this call! A call that will hurt people's feelings, no less!
Perhaps you can break just this one, tiny rule and nominate everyone?
Shut it, brain! Stop thinking! Just do the assignment and be done with it! No one is going to hate you for this. Ok? Ok. *ahem* In alphabetical order:
1. Awkward Things I Say to Girls -- because Justin gives me a peek into the male mind...and I am starting to think I understand men. Ok, who am I kidding. But I did just use the word "think" when talking about this blog, so yeah. That counts.
2. Anne's blog -- Um, I need Anne to help me with this one, because I can't remember if she is keeping it a secret or not....her anonymity was discovered, so she changed the URL, and I don't know if her blog is secret now or what...anyway, I will not link to it here until I get her permission. My point is, Anne has cancer and she is wicked awesome. She has opened my eyes to what it's like to have major health problems, the delicious flavor combination that is artificial grape flavoring and pickles AND keeps reminding me of how wonderful life can be, even when it seemingly sucks. Now THAT is food for thought. I love you, Anne. I think about you all the time. You just don't know it. But if you looked outside your living room window, you would see me with binoculars, watching you from across the street. Kidding.
3. Gaijin Girl -- she is a newlywed, and she and her hubs are spending their first year of marriage living in Japan, teaching English to Japanese people. So. Cool. And inspiring. This blog makes me think about what it would be like to do that. And kinda makes me want to do it! Only, sans husband, obviously. Maybe I could bring Sammy...? (No, I am not kidding, actually. I have always wanted to do that. And the older I get, the more appealing this idea sounds to me...shhh! Don't tell my little sister, Smurf. She would cry. Don't be surprised if I up and move to Russia one day, peeps. You have been warned.)
4. Jennster -- Is this one a cop-out because it's so popular? Whatever, I don't care. These are MY picks, people! MINE! Ster is (almost) married to a wonderful man, and she has a little boy. She is the coolest -- funny, smart, passionate and silly. Who doesn't like her blog?? Probably crack smokers. That's about all I can come up with. Maybe the Pope. I don't really see him being into it, either. Sorry, Ster. She gives me a glimpse into what it's like to be a mom, which is a pretty outrageous daydream for me, considering the current state of my love life. She pretty much covers all kinds of thinking situations: Mom issues, wedding issues, family issues, friends issues, work issues, being a woman issues, politics......you never know what you're gonna get over there. But you will get lots of things that make you think. Or snort your drink through your nose. It depends.
5. Ok, I really wanted to put Postsecret in this slot, as it is probably THE Thinking Blogger Blog, but I don't think the guy who runs it has time to nominate other people. So due to his EXTREME popularity and busy lifestyle, he has unwittingly eliminated himself from this sort of thing. Too bad, so sad. What a drawback for having what is probably the #1 blog on the internet. Besides Dooce, maybe. And I don't read that blog, so obviously she's out, too. Instead, in this slot I will place....I will place.....crap, this is hard. You see, most of the blogs I read are read because they make me laugh, like Kevin Charnas or Sam's Stories. See, they think up the funny stuff, I just laugh at it. There's not really any thinking involved when you are laughing at fart stories. A lot of the other blogs I read are for my own sanity, ie, they remind me that I am not the only 28 year old woman who is still single (THANK YOU, Charming, MJ, BCOL and all the other single girl bloggers out there!).
Wow, how's that for stalling??
Instead, I will have to put The Bad Girl's Guide here in slot #5. Crap, now it's no longer an alphabetical list. Dangit, I am not fixing that problem. You just have to let some things go. Oh, so Bad Girl's Guide. Yes. Vixen writes fantastic columns (posts? I dunno, they read like columns) about all things relationship-oriented. And she's always spot-on in her advice. Her topics are timely, she's not afraid to bring up taboo topics (which really appeals to the pervert in me) and she just reeks of womanly confidence and power. She shoots from the hip and is very fair in her views. *sigh* Women like her make me proud to be in the same gender.
Alright, peeps. I know that the people I just nominated read my blog every day (RIGHT???? Because it kicks ass!!!) so they need to follow these steps now before I mail them their brain-shaped statuette of genuine gold plastic, which has a retail value of approximately $8.95:
1. If, and only if, you get tagged, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think,
2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme,
3. Optional: Proudly display the 'Thinking Blogger Award' with a link to the post that you wrote (here is an alternative silver version if gold doesn't fit your blog)
If you were not nominated, please do not go home and cry into your pillow, because
A) this causes me to feel the horrible urge to make fun of you and/or beat you to a bloody pulp for being a wuss
B) if I didn't like your blog, I would not read it in the first place
C) this meme is currently going around at about the same rate as the common cold, and I'm sure someone will soon nominate you. I mean, I was nominated, for Pete's sake. Come on. Obviously not the most stringent list of qualificatons. Be patient, little one.
D) There were only 5 slots. FIVE. I read a LOT of blogs, people.
E) I didn't feel comfortable nominating blogs of people I know/practically know in real life, as I thought it might look bad/biased. Likewise, I didn't nominate the blogs that serve mainly to entertain me with hilarious stories. This isn't a popularity contest, it's a nomination for stuff that makes me think. So stop crying and smile because this means either
1) you are lucky enough to know me in real life, or at least know what I look like
2) you are extremely funny
And now that my obsessive list-making has reached a new level of absurdity, I will say goodbye for today.
* This is my oh-so-subtle attempt at getting my readers to submit optimistic stories about how they didn't meet their spouses until they were 32 and cynical and guarded and overweight and had totally given up all hope of ever finding true love before they were 6 feet under, only to randomly find the love of their life hiding under a rock, inexplicably, and now they are living happily ever after and would like to share their story and remind me that hanging myself over a curtain rod is not the only solution to my problem, but instead I should start looking under some rocks. Or begin to write sentences that are not run-ons. *ahem*
Monday, April 16, 2007
Hormones & Nyquil
That's right, another ADD post from VB. Enjoy, readers.
So, I am having MAJOR cabin fever today. I called in sick and have been at home all. day. long. And I really am sick (bad cold), so I would feel guilty going anywhere, even though now, at dinnertime, I am feeling a little better. I would really like to go to Target and Petsmart, actually.....but alas, the guilt is stopping me. That and the fact that putting my contacts in and makeup on at this point in the day sounds like entirely too much work.
I haven't talked to anyone today, either, other than a brief conversation with The Czarina, so I am starved for human contact. Hence, post #2 for today. If I can't talk to anyone in real life, I might as well talk to myself in the virtual world.
My hormones are raging. And not in the 13 year-old boy way. I am poster child for PMS. Don't worry, male readers, I'm not going into gory detail. Sheesh. But I am giving examples of my hormone-induced behavior:
1. Yelling at my dogs for wanting me to throw their squeaky toy AGAIN. (Right, because they are doing it to annoy me....In reality, we all know they are just being dogs.) Seriously, my dogs have no idea that they are risking their lives by whining and nudging me right now. Their toy is under the desk, they can't reach it and I do NOT feel like getting it for the 813th time. There needs to be a Canine Homicide Prevention Hotline. Like 1-800-SAV-FIDO or something. I would call it right now.
2. It is taking every ounce of my willpower right now to NOT get up, turn on the oven, and bake a chocolate cake, frost it with chocolate icing and eat the whole goddamn thing before I go to bed. It is terrifying to me how delicious that sounds. I want chocolate cake more than anything in the whole world right now. Every cell in my body is crying out for it.
3. When my alarm went off this morning, I felt like I had been drugged. Seriously, my body was like, "Whaaaa??? Awake??? You must be kidding. We just got hit by a mack truck and then someone put roofies in the diet coke last night. Anything in a vertical position is totally out of the question at this time. Try again at, say, noon."
Then again, it could have been the Nyquil. Nyquil effs me up pretty bad.
Excuse me while I bludgeon my pets with my shoe.....ok, back.
No, I didn't hit my dogs. I got the stupid blue ball for them. Jaysus their lives revolve around having access to the "right" toy. The red squeaky is apparently "so" early afternoon. At 8pm, they want the blue ball. Nothing else will do. Aaaaaargh.
Where was I? Oh yes, Nyquil.
So I don't think I'm going to take it tonight. I will just toss and turn and cough. Because I really don't like that drugged feeling in the morning, and the dreams are getting very VERY strange. Not bad, just weird.
Nyquil Dream #1: I dreamt I sold my cute, little new house and bought a BIG, old, beat up '70s Tudor-style ranch. How very Brady Bunch of me. Anyway, the house needed a LOT of work done to it, but this decision made total sense to me for some reason, despite the fact that the vast majority of the interior was dark wood paneling. The majority of the dream involved my explaining the decision to several people -- friends, family, coworkers -- and them all agreeing with me. Apparently, Dream VB has some fantastic persuasive skills. I was attempting to throw a housewarming party in this P.O.S. house as I was convincing everyone this was a great idea.
Nyquil Dream #2: I was with a group of people (I can't remember exactly who, but I think my little sister and MJ were there) and we were in this sort of mall/theme park place. Imagine an indoor theme park. Which looks like a mall. I told you it was weird. So we are in an ice cream parlor, enjoying some frozen treats, when I excuse myself from the rest of the group to use the bathroom. I walk into the bathroom.....to find not a regular American public restroom, but a large room which serves as someone's home theater. Only this person must be a kid, because it's decorated with bean bag chairs and bright colors--very kiddie sort of decorating style. There are at least a dozen tiers of seating levels, each level having 3-4 purple couches and a couple of bean bag chairs on it. So this room seats like 200 people. And the seating goes from floor to ceiling, so the room is very tall. I'd say the height would be about 50 feet or so. So, I have totally forgotten that I have to pee because I'm just staring in awe of this room. I turn around, expecting to see some kind of gigantic movie screen for the movies. I was disappointed to find only a 33" television set, embedded into the wall. Woe to the people who are sitting at the back of the room! "Well, that's a crappy tv for a room like this," I thought. Then I went to find the bathroom. It was just a half bath. How ironic, considering the number of people the room can hold.
Oh, I have a Hot Neighbor update. Well, not so much as an update as more depressing evidence that things are never going to happen between us and I will wither away into an old lady, living alone with her dogs and lusting after her even older wheelchair-bound neighbor. In 30 years, he and I will probably still be having awkward conversations in the driveways, the only difference is that we will be sharing stories of our arthritis or the latest AARP news, rather than our weekend plans. *sigh*
Ok, I have a point, I promise. So I decided to make some salmon this past weekend (I promise I will post the recipe on Virginia Cooks). I was craving it and I really felt like cooking. I invited MJ and KT over to eat with me. KT couldn't go, so I had an extra piece of salmon. I began to cook it anyway, and since it was nice outside, I had my front windows open. I heard HN come home. Then I heard lots of commotion and the voices of little children. I went out to my front porch (see? I'm trying!) to find him playing with a puppy and talking to his two little girls. Too cute. The puppy looked like a fluffy black cotton ball and was about the size of my hand. Awwww. Even cuter. I asked him about the puppy. It turns out his ex-wife had bought it and he was dog-sitting for her. So he had kids and a puppy for the weekend. He wasn't too happy about it. He made a comment about how the puppy was tearing up his house. I offered to let him borrow some carpet spray, and he gladly took me up on the offer.
I came back out with the spray, handed it to him and told him that I had some extra salmon if he was interested (see? I'm trying!). He said that sounded great, but he wished I had told him earlier. I said I could make up a plate and bring it over. Just then, a pizza delivery guy pulled up to his house. "Yeah, I just ordered a pizza. But thanks anyway! I'll bring the spray back over later."
Can you believe he would rather eat crappy Domino's rather than baked salmon with a homemade, spicy citrus sauce??? WTF??? I mean, pizza can be eaten later. It keeps for days. It's great for breakfast. What guy would rather eat pizza than a homecooked meal served up by a cute (if I do say so myself) next-door neighbor??? Total bullshit, if you ask me.
I don't even think he knows my name. Yesterday, he was leaving to go somewhere and he said, "Hey, Neighbor!" Aaargh. Why do I waste my time even thinking about him? It's time to accept the fact that it's never going to happen.
I am doomed to live and die alone. It's just not going to happen for me. Soon, I will be at that age where all my relatives start asking me, "So, Virginia, why aren't you married?" and I can reply with, "Because no one has ever asked me." Waaaaaaaah! Woe is me!!!!!!
I have been having thoughts like this since Saturday. More evidence (Example #4, actually) of how freaking hormonal I am right now. I always have absurdly negative thoughts when I'm PMSing.
Maybe when K moves out at the end of the month, I can just start walking around my house totally naked and "accidentally" leave the blinds up. You think he'd remember my name then? LOL
In other boy news....the Rat Pack has invited me, MJ and KT to visit them. Woot!! I guess they take an annual trip up to Vermont and hang out at a lakehouse every summer. Usually, it's guys only, but I guess we are so cool, we made the cut this year. So we are going up sometime later this summer--June or July. And no, I don't know if The Magician is going or not. That's not why I'm going. Besides, he's also on the list of Men Who are Obviously Not Interested in Me.
Dammit, that list is getting long. Luckily, I don't have to put Julian McMahon on there, because he doesn't know me. So technically speaking, he could be extremely interested in me and not even know it. Sweet.
Oh crap. Haven't told you about my weekend yet. Let's see. Not super eventful. Friday night I was at this very nasty, beat up old bar, full of old people who were shagging. Seriously, it smelled like an ashtray in there and we were the only people in the bar not receiving social security checks in the mail. It was on the way to the next place we had to go, and E wanted a drink ASAP, so we went there first. E got into an argument with an old guy, which was pretty funny. She was getting belligerent almost. I didn't feel well for most of the night, and ended up going home pretty early.
Saturday night I went bowling with MJ, my friend Mr. Bill and a bunch of other people. The bowling balls were greased up with something, which of course, led to several jokes and much giggling. I suck at bowling. I think I bowled like a 39 on the first game. (I think this was the first time I've gone bowling in at least 5 years, so cut me some slack!) I did get 2 strikes on the next game, though. Just had to warm up, you know.
The rest of the weekend was spent watching tv on my couch, because I felt like crap most of the time. I saw the CUTEST movie ever. And if you have kids, they can watch it with you, because it's rated PG. It's called Little Manhattan and it's about a 5th grade boy who falls in love with this little girl in his karate class. Seriously, this movie is too cute. Plus, it has the actress who plays Miranda on "Sex and the City" in it. Love her.
I wish I wasn't sick right now so I could go to the gym. I am ready to lose more weight. I have been stuck at 15 pounds for like a month now. But I didn't feel well all last week, either--my cold actually started last week. I can feel the fat creeping back on....which I guess means it wouldn't be THAT big of a deal if I went out and got one little piece of chocolate cake real quick...this place called Rush's (a local fast food chain) has this thing called a Hot Fudge Cake. There is ice cream involved. It's pretty damn good. And I really need to get outside of these four walls.....
So, I am having MAJOR cabin fever today. I called in sick and have been at home all. day. long. And I really am sick (bad cold), so I would feel guilty going anywhere, even though now, at dinnertime, I am feeling a little better. I would really like to go to Target and Petsmart, actually.....but alas, the guilt is stopping me. That and the fact that putting my contacts in and makeup on at this point in the day sounds like entirely too much work.
I haven't talked to anyone today, either, other than a brief conversation with The Czarina, so I am starved for human contact. Hence, post #2 for today. If I can't talk to anyone in real life, I might as well talk to myself in the virtual world.
My hormones are raging. And not in the 13 year-old boy way. I am poster child for PMS. Don't worry, male readers, I'm not going into gory detail. Sheesh. But I am giving examples of my hormone-induced behavior:
1. Yelling at my dogs for wanting me to throw their squeaky toy AGAIN. (Right, because they are doing it to annoy me....In reality, we all know they are just being dogs.) Seriously, my dogs have no idea that they are risking their lives by whining and nudging me right now. Their toy is under the desk, they can't reach it and I do NOT feel like getting it for the 813th time. There needs to be a Canine Homicide Prevention Hotline. Like 1-800-SAV-FIDO or something. I would call it right now.
2. It is taking every ounce of my willpower right now to NOT get up, turn on the oven, and bake a chocolate cake, frost it with chocolate icing and eat the whole goddamn thing before I go to bed. It is terrifying to me how delicious that sounds. I want chocolate cake more than anything in the whole world right now. Every cell in my body is crying out for it.
3. When my alarm went off this morning, I felt like I had been drugged. Seriously, my body was like, "Whaaaa??? Awake??? You must be kidding. We just got hit by a mack truck and then someone put roofies in the diet coke last night. Anything in a vertical position is totally out of the question at this time. Try again at, say, noon."
Then again, it could have been the Nyquil. Nyquil effs me up pretty bad.
Excuse me while I bludgeon my pets with my shoe.....ok, back.
No, I didn't hit my dogs. I got the stupid blue ball for them. Jaysus their lives revolve around having access to the "right" toy. The red squeaky is apparently "so" early afternoon. At 8pm, they want the blue ball. Nothing else will do. Aaaaaargh.
Where was I? Oh yes, Nyquil.
So I don't think I'm going to take it tonight. I will just toss and turn and cough. Because I really don't like that drugged feeling in the morning, and the dreams are getting very VERY strange. Not bad, just weird.
Nyquil Dream #1: I dreamt I sold my cute, little new house and bought a BIG, old, beat up '70s Tudor-style ranch. How very Brady Bunch of me. Anyway, the house needed a LOT of work done to it, but this decision made total sense to me for some reason, despite the fact that the vast majority of the interior was dark wood paneling. The majority of the dream involved my explaining the decision to several people -- friends, family, coworkers -- and them all agreeing with me. Apparently, Dream VB has some fantastic persuasive skills. I was attempting to throw a housewarming party in this P.O.S. house as I was convincing everyone this was a great idea.
Nyquil Dream #2: I was with a group of people (I can't remember exactly who, but I think my little sister and MJ were there) and we were in this sort of mall/theme park place. Imagine an indoor theme park. Which looks like a mall. I told you it was weird. So we are in an ice cream parlor, enjoying some frozen treats, when I excuse myself from the rest of the group to use the bathroom. I walk into the bathroom.....to find not a regular American public restroom, but a large room which serves as someone's home theater. Only this person must be a kid, because it's decorated with bean bag chairs and bright colors--very kiddie sort of decorating style. There are at least a dozen tiers of seating levels, each level having 3-4 purple couches and a couple of bean bag chairs on it. So this room seats like 200 people. And the seating goes from floor to ceiling, so the room is very tall. I'd say the height would be about 50 feet or so. So, I have totally forgotten that I have to pee because I'm just staring in awe of this room. I turn around, expecting to see some kind of gigantic movie screen for the movies. I was disappointed to find only a 33" television set, embedded into the wall. Woe to the people who are sitting at the back of the room! "Well, that's a crappy tv for a room like this," I thought. Then I went to find the bathroom. It was just a half bath. How ironic, considering the number of people the room can hold.
Oh, I have a Hot Neighbor update. Well, not so much as an update as more depressing evidence that things are never going to happen between us and I will wither away into an old lady, living alone with her dogs and lusting after her even older wheelchair-bound neighbor. In 30 years, he and I will probably still be having awkward conversations in the driveways, the only difference is that we will be sharing stories of our arthritis or the latest AARP news, rather than our weekend plans. *sigh*
Ok, I have a point, I promise. So I decided to make some salmon this past weekend (I promise I will post the recipe on Virginia Cooks). I was craving it and I really felt like cooking. I invited MJ and KT over to eat with me. KT couldn't go, so I had an extra piece of salmon. I began to cook it anyway, and since it was nice outside, I had my front windows open. I heard HN come home. Then I heard lots of commotion and the voices of little children. I went out to my front porch (see? I'm trying!) to find him playing with a puppy and talking to his two little girls. Too cute. The puppy looked like a fluffy black cotton ball and was about the size of my hand. Awwww. Even cuter. I asked him about the puppy. It turns out his ex-wife had bought it and he was dog-sitting for her. So he had kids and a puppy for the weekend. He wasn't too happy about it. He made a comment about how the puppy was tearing up his house. I offered to let him borrow some carpet spray, and he gladly took me up on the offer.
I came back out with the spray, handed it to him and told him that I had some extra salmon if he was interested (see? I'm trying!). He said that sounded great, but he wished I had told him earlier. I said I could make up a plate and bring it over. Just then, a pizza delivery guy pulled up to his house. "Yeah, I just ordered a pizza. But thanks anyway! I'll bring the spray back over later."
Can you believe he would rather eat crappy Domino's rather than baked salmon with a homemade, spicy citrus sauce??? WTF??? I mean, pizza can be eaten later. It keeps for days. It's great for breakfast. What guy would rather eat pizza than a homecooked meal served up by a cute (if I do say so myself) next-door neighbor??? Total bullshit, if you ask me.
I don't even think he knows my name. Yesterday, he was leaving to go somewhere and he said, "Hey, Neighbor!" Aaargh. Why do I waste my time even thinking about him? It's time to accept the fact that it's never going to happen.
I am doomed to live and die alone. It's just not going to happen for me. Soon, I will be at that age where all my relatives start asking me, "So, Virginia, why aren't you married?" and I can reply with, "Because no one has ever asked me." Waaaaaaaah! Woe is me!!!!!!
I have been having thoughts like this since Saturday. More evidence (Example #4, actually) of how freaking hormonal I am right now. I always have absurdly negative thoughts when I'm PMSing.
Maybe when K moves out at the end of the month, I can just start walking around my house totally naked and "accidentally" leave the blinds up. You think he'd remember my name then? LOL
In other boy news....the Rat Pack has invited me, MJ and KT to visit them. Woot!! I guess they take an annual trip up to Vermont and hang out at a lakehouse every summer. Usually, it's guys only, but I guess we are so cool, we made the cut this year. So we are going up sometime later this summer--June or July. And no, I don't know if The Magician is going or not. That's not why I'm going. Besides, he's also on the list of Men Who are Obviously Not Interested in Me.
Dammit, that list is getting long. Luckily, I don't have to put Julian McMahon on there, because he doesn't know me. So technically speaking, he could be extremely interested in me and not even know it. Sweet.
Oh crap. Haven't told you about my weekend yet. Let's see. Not super eventful. Friday night I was at this very nasty, beat up old bar, full of old people who were shagging. Seriously, it smelled like an ashtray in there and we were the only people in the bar not receiving social security checks in the mail. It was on the way to the next place we had to go, and E wanted a drink ASAP, so we went there first. E got into an argument with an old guy, which was pretty funny. She was getting belligerent almost. I didn't feel well for most of the night, and ended up going home pretty early.
Saturday night I went bowling with MJ, my friend Mr. Bill and a bunch of other people. The bowling balls were greased up with something, which of course, led to several jokes and much giggling. I suck at bowling. I think I bowled like a 39 on the first game. (I think this was the first time I've gone bowling in at least 5 years, so cut me some slack!) I did get 2 strikes on the next game, though. Just had to warm up, you know.
The rest of the weekend was spent watching tv on my couch, because I felt like crap most of the time. I saw the CUTEST movie ever. And if you have kids, they can watch it with you, because it's rated PG. It's called Little Manhattan and it's about a 5th grade boy who falls in love with this little girl in his karate class. Seriously, this movie is too cute. Plus, it has the actress who plays Miranda on "Sex and the City" in it. Love her.
I wish I wasn't sick right now so I could go to the gym. I am ready to lose more weight. I have been stuck at 15 pounds for like a month now. But I didn't feel well all last week, either--my cold actually started last week. I can feel the fat creeping back on....which I guess means it wouldn't be THAT big of a deal if I went out and got one little piece of chocolate cake real quick...this place called Rush's (a local fast food chain) has this thing called a Hot Fudge Cake. There is ice cream involved. It's pretty damn good. And I really need to get outside of these four walls.....
Monday, April 09, 2007
Nostalgia
Time for me to bore you with my weekend update. Friday was another wonderful evening with the lovely Happy Hour Girls. We all caught up on our "mens" -- or in my case, lack thereof.
Saturday morning, K and I made breakfast for Navy Guy using my new griddle. We had french toast just like Czarina's, scrambled eggs and turkey bacon. (Ever had turkey bacon? Dude, it's good. Try it.) Mmmmm....every day should start with a heaping dose of fat, salt, maple syrup and orange juice. (Diet? Who's on a diet? I don't know anyone...)
Saturday afternoon, I went with MJ and KT to a car show. I didn't realize she was such a big fan of cars...too bad the show was pretty small. We did see some cool cars, though. Then, in keeping with our nostalgic theme of the day, we went to Steak n Shake. For those of you who are not familiar with this restaurant, let me send you some virtual sympathy. You poor, poor thing. Get in your car and drive to the nearest one. Whadda ya mean it's 8 hours away? I said go. Don't worry, you will forget all about the drive as soon as you get a long, cool sip of one of their hand-scooped milkshakes. Mmmmm....
MJ and KT had never been, so I had to enlighten them. It's a 1950s-style burger/fries/shake kind of chain restaurant. I love them because:
1. They have fantastic milkshakes.
2. Their burgers have crispy edges and lots of big pickles.
3. Their chili is awesome on a cold day.
4. They are open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. And now they take Visa.
They are everywhere in Indiana (sort of like how there's a Waffle House on every corner in SC), so going there always takes me back to Friday nights in high school, when every teenager in a 15 mile radius would descend on the poor staff of the local Steak n Shake. In college, I would meet up with friends there to talk and smoke for hours on end. So I have a lot of great Steak n Shake memories. They don't exist in Virginia, so I was very excited to see one when I moved here. I am the envy of my family, to be exact. The Belle family loves S&S.
After gorging ourselves on burgers and milkshakes (diet? what diet?), we hit some thrift stores. After looking at old furniture that looked like something from Grandma's house, we discovered a box of (get this) 8 tracks! I can't even remember the last time I have seen one. I think I was about 7 years old.
I ended up falling asleep on my couch on Saturday night -- wow, how exciting. I watched Best in Show before passing out, though. It was very disappointing. There are a couple of characters I liked (the gay couple and the yuppie couple were hysterical), but otherwise, this movie was lame.
Sunday, I cleaned the disgusting pig-hole known as my house. I cleaned all. day. long. I think I went through about 15 sheets on my lint roller. (It's dog hair city at my place.) I watched Mean Girls as I cleaned. I had forgotten how funny that movie is! By dinnertime, I was too tired to make anything and too grungy to go out to eat. So K and I got a pizza. (Diet? I don't know what you're talking about.) Well, eventually, anyway. It turns out, my house is located in the only part of town that Papa John's won't deliver to. If you go 15 minutes in any direction from my house, you can get to a Papa John's. But none of them will deliver to my house. I don't live in a bad neighborhood, just outside of their little delivery area. I thought this was bulls--t, and I *ahem* said so. Because, last I checked, pizza delivery guys could use the money. And I would swear on all things holy that they have delivered to my house before. But whatever. I just drove up to the Domino's around the corner, waited 10 minutes (for a far inferior, yet cheaper, take-out pizza) and got over it.
But Papa is on my list, now. He'd better be glad I don't have any mafia connections.
I haven't told you about my dream I had! Ok, it's so sad to say this, but it was practically the highlight of my weekend.
I had a dream that I had sex with Julian McMahon!!!! Yeah! It was awesome. Well, ok, I think it was awesome. I don't remember the actual sex part. (Maybe it was so good, my memory just couldn't handle it? And so it blocked it out??) My recollection starts when he gets up to go take a shower after we do it. I am removing my clothes (yeah, I don't get it either--maybe we had been too into it to bother with clothing removal?), telling him I'll be joining him in the shower in just a second (RAWR!) when I look over at his dresser.
There's a thing of woman's deodorant sitting on the dresser. And it's not mine. The asshole is too
dense/arrogant to even hide the most obvious piece of evidence of another woman.
That's the end of the dream -- me, naked, holding some other woman's deodorant.
How sad is it that I even have cynical dreams???? *sigh*
Ok, enough fooling around. I know why you're here. You are expecting some kind of Hot Neighbor update, aren't you? Something about lasagna, or me doing some weeding in my front yard, wearing nothing but a bikini. You want me to say that he and I had wild, hot, dirty monkey sex on his living room floor, don't you? Or that he's taking me out to dinner next Saturday.
You'd probably even settle for me saying something optimistically cliche about fate, or waiting for things to happen at the right time, or taking my life into my own hands and making things happen, not living in fear of rejection, that kind of thing. Am I right?
Well, sorry folks. The only Hot Neighbor update I have for you is this: He was gone most of the weekend. Right up until Sunday night, when the Wednesday Skank pulled into his driveway in her shiny, new convertible.
Wednesday Skank -- 2, Virginia Belle -- 0
Game over, folks.
Saturday morning, K and I made breakfast for Navy Guy using my new griddle. We had french toast just like Czarina's, scrambled eggs and turkey bacon. (Ever had turkey bacon? Dude, it's good. Try it.) Mmmmm....every day should start with a heaping dose of fat, salt, maple syrup and orange juice. (Diet? Who's on a diet? I don't know anyone...)
Saturday afternoon, I went with MJ and KT to a car show. I didn't realize she was such a big fan of cars...too bad the show was pretty small. We did see some cool cars, though. Then, in keeping with our nostalgic theme of the day, we went to Steak n Shake. For those of you who are not familiar with this restaurant, let me send you some virtual sympathy. You poor, poor thing. Get in your car and drive to the nearest one. Whadda ya mean it's 8 hours away? I said go. Don't worry, you will forget all about the drive as soon as you get a long, cool sip of one of their hand-scooped milkshakes. Mmmmm....
MJ and KT had never been, so I had to enlighten them. It's a 1950s-style burger/fries/shake kind of chain restaurant. I love them because:
1. They have fantastic milkshakes.
2. Their burgers have crispy edges and lots of big pickles.
3. Their chili is awesome on a cold day.
4. They are open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. And now they take Visa.
They are everywhere in Indiana (sort of like how there's a Waffle House on every corner in SC), so going there always takes me back to Friday nights in high school, when every teenager in a 15 mile radius would descend on the poor staff of the local Steak n Shake. In college, I would meet up with friends there to talk and smoke for hours on end. So I have a lot of great Steak n Shake memories. They don't exist in Virginia, so I was very excited to see one when I moved here. I am the envy of my family, to be exact. The Belle family loves S&S.
After gorging ourselves on burgers and milkshakes (diet? what diet?), we hit some thrift stores. After looking at old furniture that looked like something from Grandma's house, we discovered a box of (get this) 8 tracks! I can't even remember the last time I have seen one. I think I was about 7 years old.
I ended up falling asleep on my couch on Saturday night -- wow, how exciting. I watched Best in Show before passing out, though. It was very disappointing. There are a couple of characters I liked (the gay couple and the yuppie couple were hysterical), but otherwise, this movie was lame.
Sunday, I cleaned the disgusting pig-hole known as my house. I cleaned all. day. long. I think I went through about 15 sheets on my lint roller. (It's dog hair city at my place.) I watched Mean Girls as I cleaned. I had forgotten how funny that movie is! By dinnertime, I was too tired to make anything and too grungy to go out to eat. So K and I got a pizza. (Diet? I don't know what you're talking about.) Well, eventually, anyway. It turns out, my house is located in the only part of town that Papa John's won't deliver to. If you go 15 minutes in any direction from my house, you can get to a Papa John's. But none of them will deliver to my house. I don't live in a bad neighborhood, just outside of their little delivery area. I thought this was bulls--t, and I *ahem* said so. Because, last I checked, pizza delivery guys could use the money. And I would swear on all things holy that they have delivered to my house before. But whatever. I just drove up to the Domino's around the corner, waited 10 minutes (for a far inferior, yet cheaper, take-out pizza) and got over it.
But Papa is on my list, now. He'd better be glad I don't have any mafia connections.
I haven't told you about my dream I had! Ok, it's so sad to say this, but it was practically the highlight of my weekend.
I had a dream that I had sex with Julian McMahon!!!! Yeah! It was awesome. Well, ok, I think it was awesome. I don't remember the actual sex part. (Maybe it was so good, my memory just couldn't handle it? And so it blocked it out??) My recollection starts when he gets up to go take a shower after we do it. I am removing my clothes (yeah, I don't get it either--maybe we had been too into it to bother with clothing removal?), telling him I'll be joining him in the shower in just a second (RAWR!) when I look over at his dresser.
There's a thing of woman's deodorant sitting on the dresser. And it's not mine. The asshole is too
dense/arrogant to even hide the most obvious piece of evidence of another woman.
That's the end of the dream -- me, naked, holding some other woman's deodorant.
How sad is it that I even have cynical dreams???? *sigh*
Ok, enough fooling around. I know why you're here. You are expecting some kind of Hot Neighbor update, aren't you? Something about lasagna, or me doing some weeding in my front yard, wearing nothing but a bikini. You want me to say that he and I had wild, hot, dirty monkey sex on his living room floor, don't you? Or that he's taking me out to dinner next Saturday.
You'd probably even settle for me saying something optimistically cliche about fate, or waiting for things to happen at the right time, or taking my life into my own hands and making things happen, not living in fear of rejection, that kind of thing. Am I right?
Well, sorry folks. The only Hot Neighbor update I have for you is this: He was gone most of the weekend. Right up until Sunday night, when the Wednesday Skank pulled into his driveway in her shiny, new convertible.
Wednesday Skank -- 2, Virginia Belle -- 0
Game over, folks.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Ok, People...
I know it would be uber-exciting for all of you to read this blog on Monday morning and see that I boldly walked over to Hot Neighbor's house on Saturday, knocked on his door and balls-out asked him over for dinner.
But I am not living my life for your entertainment. (Surprise!!)
While I may have moments of frustration, desperation and temptation, we all know I'm never going to do that. Yeah. Hate to be the bucket of cold water to your nice, relaxing hot shower, but let's get real, people. I just don't do that. Why?
1. In the past, all of my experiences where I have been the bold, assertive person have blown up in my face. Sure, the guys were nice enough about it, and flattered. They may have gotten my number or taken me out a couple of times, or even dated me for 6 months. But in the end, every one of them has ended up being either totally forgettable or a major dating regret (ie, The Cop). So if this was a baseball game, I'd be batting about 0 for 5. Not much of a batting average. What is that quote? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results? I think pretty much sums it up.
2. I am not comfortable with doing it in the first place, nevermind how it always seems to end up. I have been groomed my whole life to be an old-fashioned dater, and I am comfortable with it. It feels natural to me. I enjoy being wooed and pursued. Maybe it's because I was raised in the South, maybe it's because I'm definitely not a feminist, maybe it's because my parents' courtship was so charming and old-fashioned that I've been spoiled by their romantic tales from the mid-1970s, and now will never settle for less. Maybe it's just because I'm a girly girl. Who knows. But I feel confident when I am pursued. Not so much when I am being the aggressor. It's just not me. I think part of happiness is knowing yourself.
3. I am not one to play with fate. I think if something is meant to happen, it will happen in its own time. Since when does my life have to conform to the schedule my overly-daydreaming mind has laid out? Good grief, if I did that, I'd have 2 kids and a time share by now. Pursuing guys makes me feel like I'm forcing a relationship to happen. This doesn't sit well with me, kind of like how you have indigestion after eating too much, too fast: I can continue on with the experience, but I feel very uncomfortable. I like to allow things to happen naturally and slowly. There's no rush. I have the rest of my life to meet men.
4. He's been living next door to me for 5 months, people. Think about how often you are home in a 5 month period. Think about how many times he and I have spoken. How many different ways he could have gotten in touch with me. We are talking about numerous opportunities, all of which he has chosen to miss. This is a classic case of He's Just Not That Into Me. Which is fine. I can live with that. It happens all the time. And it's far better than forcing him to go out with me on a flattery date, only to be directly and bluntly rejected by him down the road. This is far less painful. If he were all about me, he would have been willing to risk rejection and would have asked me out already. Oh, and let's not forget my awesome timing in the looks department -- he looooves to see me when I look like total crap. This does not help my cause. So please, guys, no excuses for him. Don't give me the whole, "he's new to dating again! ease up!" or "divorcees have no self-esteem, you're going to have to meet him halfway!" or whatever. Excuses for not asking me out are bullshit, if I do say so myself. I'm a fun girl, who is easy to hang out with. Plus, I have nice boobs. I think that pretty much covers most 1st date requirements....right? Ok then.
5. I like balls. I like men with balls who ask out women fearlessly. I'm starting to think he's not that kind of guy. I'm starting to think he might be a ninny. A pushover. A doormat. Someone who waits for a domineering woman to take over and run his life for him. I can't respect people like that. Why would I settle for dating one? So can someone please explain to me why I would make a whole lasagna from scratch (about $25 and 3 hours of time, btw) for someone who can't even be bothered to take a deep breath and ask me what I'm doing this weekend? Because the more I think about it, the less interested I am in the idea. He's not lasagna-worthy at this point. (Elaine had sponges, I have lasagna.)
That being said, I'm obviously going to have to kick it up a notch in the flirting department. I've got serious competition now--he DID find his balls long enough to ask Wednesday Skank out, obviously. (I will suspend my theory that she asked him out, for the time being.) So although I'm not going to make lasagna (what, you think he'll take one bite and instantly fall madly in love with me? Come on, look who has an overactive imagination now! I mean, I know I make good lasagna, but come on!), I am going to start gardening in low-cut tops and insert some winking into my conversations with Hot Neighbor. I don't mess with fate, but I'm not against giving her a little nudge from time to time.
P.S. Don't bother calling me a wuss. I've already labeled the post appropriately. Aw, did I take the wind out of your sails?
So...I have some pics to share with you. It's Toby.
Um, I didn't realize it when I took it, but Toby is looking right at Sammy's butt in this picture...
And in this one, he wouldn't hold still, which is why he's not centered in the frame. Don't you love my awesomely landscaped backyard lawn? It's coming along perfectly...NOT.
This morning, I got to start my day at 5:30. Why was I up at 5:30, you ask? Because Toby was barfing all over my bedroom. Awesome. At first, I was just annoyed. Too sleepy to be worried, I was just wanting him to go back to bed. But he kept making noises and then I could hear some sort of splatter, which made me get up and turn on the lights.
I put two and two together in my pre-caffeinated brain: Dog is not making annoying sounds for the heck of it, dog is barfing. That is when the worry set in. I grabbed him and held him over my bathroom sink (ew) so he could barf on something that wasn't my carpeting. The dog barf had blood in it. I freaked out. So now he's at the vet, and I'm worried, because I haven't heard from the vet all day. And he hasn't had any food today, either. My poor, little pound puppy. My poor, little, expensive-as-hell pound puppy....
Ha! Not only am I Barf Queen, but my new dog is a barfer, too. Aw, he will fit in so well....
But I am not living my life for your entertainment. (Surprise!!)
While I may have moments of frustration, desperation and temptation, we all know I'm never going to do that. Yeah. Hate to be the bucket of cold water to your nice, relaxing hot shower, but let's get real, people. I just don't do that. Why?
1. In the past, all of my experiences where I have been the bold, assertive person have blown up in my face. Sure, the guys were nice enough about it, and flattered. They may have gotten my number or taken me out a couple of times, or even dated me for 6 months. But in the end, every one of them has ended up being either totally forgettable or a major dating regret (ie, The Cop). So if this was a baseball game, I'd be batting about 0 for 5. Not much of a batting average. What is that quote? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results? I think pretty much sums it up.
2. I am not comfortable with doing it in the first place, nevermind how it always seems to end up. I have been groomed my whole life to be an old-fashioned dater, and I am comfortable with it. It feels natural to me. I enjoy being wooed and pursued. Maybe it's because I was raised in the South, maybe it's because I'm definitely not a feminist, maybe it's because my parents' courtship was so charming and old-fashioned that I've been spoiled by their romantic tales from the mid-1970s, and now will never settle for less. Maybe it's just because I'm a girly girl. Who knows. But I feel confident when I am pursued. Not so much when I am being the aggressor. It's just not me. I think part of happiness is knowing yourself.
3. I am not one to play with fate. I think if something is meant to happen, it will happen in its own time. Since when does my life have to conform to the schedule my overly-daydreaming mind has laid out? Good grief, if I did that, I'd have 2 kids and a time share by now. Pursuing guys makes me feel like I'm forcing a relationship to happen. This doesn't sit well with me, kind of like how you have indigestion after eating too much, too fast: I can continue on with the experience, but I feel very uncomfortable. I like to allow things to happen naturally and slowly. There's no rush. I have the rest of my life to meet men.
4. He's been living next door to me for 5 months, people. Think about how often you are home in a 5 month period. Think about how many times he and I have spoken. How many different ways he could have gotten in touch with me. We are talking about numerous opportunities, all of which he has chosen to miss. This is a classic case of He's Just Not That Into Me. Which is fine. I can live with that. It happens all the time. And it's far better than forcing him to go out with me on a flattery date, only to be directly and bluntly rejected by him down the road. This is far less painful. If he were all about me, he would have been willing to risk rejection and would have asked me out already. Oh, and let's not forget my awesome timing in the looks department -- he looooves to see me when I look like total crap. This does not help my cause. So please, guys, no excuses for him. Don't give me the whole, "he's new to dating again! ease up!" or "divorcees have no self-esteem, you're going to have to meet him halfway!" or whatever. Excuses for not asking me out are bullshit, if I do say so myself. I'm a fun girl, who is easy to hang out with. Plus, I have nice boobs. I think that pretty much covers most 1st date requirements....right? Ok then.
5. I like balls. I like men with balls who ask out women fearlessly. I'm starting to think he's not that kind of guy. I'm starting to think he might be a ninny. A pushover. A doormat. Someone who waits for a domineering woman to take over and run his life for him. I can't respect people like that. Why would I settle for dating one? So can someone please explain to me why I would make a whole lasagna from scratch (about $25 and 3 hours of time, btw) for someone who can't even be bothered to take a deep breath and ask me what I'm doing this weekend? Because the more I think about it, the less interested I am in the idea. He's not lasagna-worthy at this point. (Elaine had sponges, I have lasagna.)
That being said, I'm obviously going to have to kick it up a notch in the flirting department. I've got serious competition now--he DID find his balls long enough to ask Wednesday Skank out, obviously. (I will suspend my theory that she asked him out, for the time being.) So although I'm not going to make lasagna (what, you think he'll take one bite and instantly fall madly in love with me? Come on, look who has an overactive imagination now! I mean, I know I make good lasagna, but come on!), I am going to start gardening in low-cut tops and insert some winking into my conversations with Hot Neighbor. I don't mess with fate, but I'm not against giving her a little nudge from time to time.
P.S. Don't bother calling me a wuss. I've already labeled the post appropriately. Aw, did I take the wind out of your sails?
So...I have some pics to share with you. It's Toby.
Um, I didn't realize it when I took it, but Toby is looking right at Sammy's butt in this picture...
And in this one, he wouldn't hold still, which is why he's not centered in the frame. Don't you love my awesomely landscaped backyard lawn? It's coming along perfectly...NOT.
This morning, I got to start my day at 5:30. Why was I up at 5:30, you ask? Because Toby was barfing all over my bedroom. Awesome. At first, I was just annoyed. Too sleepy to be worried, I was just wanting him to go back to bed. But he kept making noises and then I could hear some sort of splatter, which made me get up and turn on the lights.I put two and two together in my pre-caffeinated brain: Dog is not making annoying sounds for the heck of it, dog is barfing. That is when the worry set in. I grabbed him and held him over my bathroom sink (ew) so he could barf on something that wasn't my carpeting. The dog barf had blood in it. I freaked out. So now he's at the vet, and I'm worried, because I haven't heard from the vet all day. And he hasn't had any food today, either. My poor, little pound puppy. My poor, little, expensive-as-hell pound puppy....
Ha! Not only am I Barf Queen, but my new dog is a barfer, too. Aw, he will fit in so well....
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