RVA Should Stand for "Richmond: Very Awesome"

Greetings, readers! Flattered any of you are still here, as always. I have many many updates for you, as a lot has changed since my last post. I'll do my best to be brief. I think I am in love. I am in love with Richmond. I should have moved here YEARS ago. I have met so many great people, I get to see my family all the time and there's always something fun to do here. It's a great size, there's great shopping and restaurants, there are lots of young people and so much to explore. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think I'm done moving. I don't see myself leaving RVA any time soon. I'm so much happier here than I was in Savannah.

Have I talked about my job at all? I can't remember. I don't like my job. I miss my old job in Savannah. I had things to do there. I felt like I was with a team and we all had projects and ideas to work on together. Here....not so much. I strive to fill my day with something, anything. The work is not challenging at all (seriously, you could have a high school diploma and do what I do at this gig). I spend most of my day totally alone, which does NOT work for me, because I'm a social person. I don't really supervise anyone, even though technically I am supposed to. First of all, the people I supposedly supervise don't need me because no one uses our library. We can go for days at a time when no one even comes in. Second of all, my boss signs their time sheets and approves their leave, leaving me with nothing to use for ammo when it comes to supervising them. I really like my boss as a person, and she likes me, but I don't think she's a very good supervisor. I don't think she likes being the supervisor, either. There are so many things I could say about this job -- I am just scratching the surface, honestly. I should devote a whole post to it one day. I don't mean to complain, as I am grateful for this job, and it is extremely low-stress, but as a good friend of mine stated when I was describing my new job to her: "Wow, what a complete waste of your talents and abilities." It's not that this is a bad job. It's just not a good fit for me. I plan on changing careers with my next job. To what? I have no idea.

One of the things that is kind of awesome about this new job, though, is that for the first time in my life (yes, since my first job at age 15), I do not work nights or weekends. This, combined with the barely-40 hours a week and the low stress levels of this job means I can really focus on getting back in shape and my social life, which is what I want to do in a new town anyway. Yipee!! (I have already lost about 15 pounds. WOOT!)

After a few months of loneliness/dating douchebaggery, I found a group just for women in their 30s. There was a happy hour event in March, so I went, halfway dreading it because I was worried they'd all be married mothers and I'd end up getting invited to baby showers (no offense to any mothers reading, but attending baby/wedding showers stopped being fun for me about 6 years ago. They only serve as reminders of how I am not where I want to be at age 33. But don't get me wrong -- I am happy for you. I just want to mail a card instead. Is that ok?). So I get to this happy hour event, and end up sitting next to a group of girls who are all my age, all single/childless/never married AND most of them just moved back to Richmond after living away for some time. Ding ding ding! We have a winner! 4 of us really hit it off, and we've been hanging out ever since. They are so much fun and it's so awesome to see that you're not the last single 33 year old woman in the world. Every time this group gets together, we meet more cool girls, so my social circle is expanding all the time. Sweet!!!

But I am not just relying on them for my social life. There are daughters/sons of friends of my mom who I have been meeting, too. I met with one of them for after-work drinks the other day. I was especially excited to meet with her, because I hadn't seen her since I was in about 8th grade, I was told she's super fun and also because The Czarina told me she would have good career advice for me. And she did! But what I wasn't expecting was that she's also all about fixing people up. Score! A few minutes into our conversation, she asked me if I'm single. I nodded. "You have to meet ____." I asked her to tell me about him.

He sounds awesome! Smart, kind, funny, attractive, no kids/ex-wives, owns his own home, from Richmond, close to his family but not too close, has a good job, he's the same age as me.....so why wasn't SHE interested in him? After all, she's 33 and single, too. "He's not my type. I can see why people would say he's attractive, and he is. But I'm not attracted to him. He's like a brother to me. I've known him for years and years."

"So why is he single?" I asked. There had to be a catch.

"Well, he was engaged about a year or two ago. Then, out of nowhere, she broke it off. He was pretty crushed, because he didn't even see it coming. Actually, none of us saw it coming. Then he dated this other girl for a while, and she ended up getting back with her ex....so he's had a rough go of it."

"Poor guy. He sounds great, though. Sure, fix me up," I said.

"Ok, let's do this right now," she said, getting out her phone.

"Like, right now? Do I have time to brush my hair?" I asked.

She laughed. "No, I mean like let's set it up right now." She began texting him. "Are you free tomorrow?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Ok, he's free, too. You're meeting him here tomorrow at 7," she stated matter-of-factly.

And just like that -- BOOM -- I had a blind date.

We have our second date tonight. I'm really excited. I'll tell you all about him in my next post....that's all for now, kids. I have to get ready for the gym!

New Year's Peeve

Greetings from Virginia! I will fill you in on my new life here later, with details about The Most Frustrating and Neverending Move Ever in the History of Relocations, The Magical Weight Loss Phenomenon and The Vague Job with Unavailable Boss (Through No Fault of Her Own). All you need to know at this moment is that

A) I love Richmond already.
B) My love life has already gone to shit, if you can believe it. Luckily, this has not impacted A (see above). Yet.

You may have noticed that it is almost 9pm on New Year's Eve. And I am blogging. In my jammies. Alone. What, did you think things would be different, now that I am out of horrible Savannah? That just because I am closer to my family and finally back where I feel at home that my romantic endeavors would be any different than they always have been? Or perhaps it's because last year's NYE was absolutely amazingly fun and awesome? Oh, my little naive readers. You know I can't let this year end without yet another crash-and-burn tale from my dating life, or lack thereof. Although I got down to the wire, I did manage to squeeze one final story into 2011 for you.

2011 started with a great dating story and it will end with another. Ok, I guess last year's NYE wasn't totally amazing and fun by the time it was over. But it most certainly started off that way, and it was a helluva lot better than the way this one is shaping up. Let me explain.

Thanks to the intervention of several friends and/or relatives, I was talked into (read: dragged kicking and screaming) signing up for eHarmony (emphasis on "harm") late last summer. Since you pay for it 3 months' at a time, I had completely forgotten that it would automatically renew itself, so after 3 months of guys who didn't even sound good on paper, I got to -- surprise! -- get automatically charged for another 3 months' of depressing dating prospects! Well, by the time I realized that this had happened, I was in the midst of leaving Savannah to move to Richmond. And they don't do refunds. So I had another 3 months' worth of prepaid virtual dating to burn through. Ever the Pollyanna/mental nimrod/glutton for punishment that I am when it comes to dating, I decided I would just update my eHarmony profile to list Richmond as my location and keep on trying. I am new in town. What else was I going to do with my free time?

Well, I was very pleasantly surprised, let me tell you. Not only were the men better looking in Richmond, but they were better educated, too, with more interesting jobs. Gone were the Savannah hipster bartenders who looked like they don't bathe and the desperate-for-any-female military men. (I do support our men in uniform, heck, my brother is a vet for pete's sake, but what is with their desperation to get girlfriends? It is seriously freaky. I wish they would work on that, collectively.) The guys in Richmond seem...pretty great, actually! Woo hoo!

There were a few that seemed pretty good, but one stood out above the rest. MM was just the right age, looked like he knew how to have a good time and was pretty good looking. I had looked at his profile about 3 times before I realized that in this one photo, there was a kid. He looked so good in the photo, I literally didn't even see the kid, who turns out to be one of his daughters. Yes, he has 2 daughters and an ex-wife. That's a decent amount of baggage, but I like kids and I am trying to be more open minded about stuff like that. I haven't been dating much lately (read: at all...for 2 years....). I just wanted someone who seemed like fun. So we started emailing, which progressed to texting.

He was great! He was flirtatious, funny and seemed interested in me. He asked me out and we booked a date. We were going to meet for dinner in The Fan, which is the old home/cool boutiques/best restaurants area of Richmond. I was pretty stoked. It was my first date in *ahem* over 2 years (except for the blind date where I was a cougar and we didn't really hit it off anyway, so I am not even going to link to that post). I had an outfit picked out and was kind of excited to do some in-person flirting with MM.

That is, until he canceled on me the day before. Something about work being really crazy and he had to work late on the night of our date. Ok, well, everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt, I thought. It's the holidays, and everyone is a little crazy right now. So we rescheduled. And then I cried a little, because I was so disappointed. Normally, I have a rule against dating guys who make me cry, but since this was a work thing, it wasn't his fault. So we ended up just texting for another week. (I began to get annoyed at the texting after a while...why not just call me? So much easier and less sketchy.) Things got very flirtatious, though. It's so easy to flirt via text...where was I?

Our first date went well...even though he was a little bit late. (Again, I try to give people the benefit of the doubt on first dates. They can be nerve-wracking. So I let it slide. He had texted me to say he was running a little late, so that helped.) The food was good and we had good conversation, but what was odd was the complete and total lack of flirting going on. And he was sitting a little farther away from me than I would have preferred. This, from the guy who, earlier in the week, was asking me some very PG-13 questions via my phone (some I would not even answer because they were a little too personal). This same guy, who had been talking up a big storm about kissing me, was acting like we were on a totally blind date. It was very odd.

He also did most of the talking, which is one of my first date pet peeves. I like a healthy split of getting to know each other, not the entire sordid story of why your marriage broke up. All I asked was how long he had been divorced. I didn't really need to know that she cheated and lied and all that other stuff. It's not really any of my business and made me a little uncomfortable.

I switched topics and asked him about his family. He describes his mother as "manipulative and controlling" and I could see a little red flag pop up. Now, anyone who knows me at all knows that my mother drives me nuts and I believe The Czarina to be a major control freak, but I would never describe her as manipulative, and I certainly wouldn't tell any of that to someone I just met. This, combined with his description of his ex-wife and a couple of bad dates he'd been on recently caused me to make a joke about how he'd bad mouth me later, too. He assured me I was a very pleasant surprise and that I was as attractive in person as I was in my photos. That was a relief. I decided that I would keep my ears peeled for more misogynistic comments, but the little things he said weren't instant deal breakers. For all I knew, it could have been nerves.

I decided to focus on how good looking he was and how good he smelled. And how to get him to sit closer to me. I decided to take off my jacket, exposing a black sequined top that was cut just low enough to be date-worthy, but not slutty. I could feel his eyes right where I wanted them to be. And although he did angle his body towards me a little more and put his arm on the back of the booth, his rear remained firmly in place...too far away for any serious flirting to take place. Rats. I guess that's what I got for telling him the he's not allowed to kiss me on our first date. Oh the joys of trying to pretend to be good when I really don't want to be..........

Our date got better as the night wore on. Aside from the comments about his mom and ex and my unsuccessful attempt to get him to scoot closer, it went well. It went so well that he asked me for a 2nd date just before hugging me goodbye. I was stoked.

Then, all this week, he went back to the vicious flirting and regular texting. I told him I was tired of texting and just wanted to talk, so he called me. After the phone call, he texted me to say how much he likes hearing my voice on the phone. He even asked my favorite question in the whole world: "When can I see you again?". *sigh* I love that question. At this point, I am thinking we are definitely having a super hot makeout session on Date #2. Even if I have to wear a super slut-tastic shirt this time. I can't take it anymore.

Two hours before he's supposed to pick me up for our second date, he texts me.

Would you be pissed if I asked you if we could reschedule for next week?

"If you have to ask that question, you already know the answer, douchebag," I thought. I texted back: So you're canceling on me again?

I am so sorry, he replied.

At this point, I am about to punch a wall I am so pissed. I don't reply. When I get home from work, he texts me again: I am so sorry. If you don't ever want to talk to me again, I totally understand.

Now, I am not stupid. I know that if you really liked someone, you would never say that, out of fear they'd take you up on the idea. He wanted out, but didn't want to be the bad guy. This guy has really mastered texting. He uses it to say all sorts of things he doesn't have the balls to say in person. Despite texting me every day, despite all his little innuendos about sleeping with me, despite the compliments he gave me, despite asking me out a 2nd time...he wanted out. Why, I don't know. And I never will know. Because I replied with

Good. Because I don't.

The worst part was, he never replied to that text.

Cougars -- RAWRRRR!!!

So far, I am really liking my new position at work. I get to tackle problems I've always wanted to work on, help my coworkers do better at their jobs and learn how to manage people better. It's been great so far, and I'm getting a lot of positive feedback.

I'm just not getting any money for it. *grumble*

What they are going to do is give me a bonus when I'm no longer in this interim position. If the new Big Boss decides to officially give me my title, they will give me the bonus and also up my pay. If the new Big Boss decides to not give me the title, I will go back to my previous position and just get a bonus. Then I will immediately look for a new job, because hello! That's a pretty clear message. But I think I will hopefully get it. *knocks on wood* I'm not too upset about this situation, because I'm doing this more for the experience than the pay. I need this promotion on my resume.

I don't know when Big Boss's position will get filled, though. They are bringing in candidates left and right, but all we get to do is give them a tour -- we are not involved in the interview process. I am not a fan of this system, but it's out of my control. The odd thing is, our HR person randomly emailed one of my staff and asked them to sit in on one of the interviews (not all of them, just one of the interviews. As she is really new, this is really odd to both of us. She's trying to encourage HR to ask me to do it instead, as I'm the more logical person to be there (not to toot my own horn, but I am).

And I can't outright fire The Gorilla, but I can assure you I am all up in his beeswax! He was demoted and is now under the new girl, and he keeps telling her that he hates his job and "can't take it anymore" and is looking for a new job. HR told us that the next time he says it, we can consider it his verbal resignation and they will back us on it!

Alright, enough about work. Let's talk about something more fun...like my dating life. No, really, I honestly have an update! It turns out I am not dead! I had a blind date about a week ago. First date in a year and a half. WOOT! Backstory: I have a friend whose mission in life is to get me a man. I do not argue with this. She randomly calls me with potential guys in mind, and our conversations go like this:

Fixer-Upper: Hey, VB, what's your age limit on older m--
Me: None. Don't care.
Fixer-Upper: You're sure? Cuz he's--
Me: Don't care. Give him my number.
Fixer-Upper: Ok, cool! I'll tell him to call you.

I did veto a date with at 22 year old, mostly because that honestly just feels illegal. But I did say yes to one of her ideas, and so I messaged him on facebook. (You should be clapping right now, because I do NOT NOT NOT make first moves. But Fixer-Upper is the type of person who would nag me incessantly if I didn't do something to meet this guy, so I did it to get her off my back.)

Long story short, I was on a blind date the next night. Here are the stats: 26, tall, cute, works 3 jobs (one of which is being a fireman -- hawt), has a dog, former military guy (for some reason, military guys are always into me. Not sure why.), is a Christian....so all in all, a good package. Also, he doesn't drink, which is a nice change of pace. I was more hung up on the age thing than he was. I have never dated someone this much younger than me. He was just starting middle school when I was in the 12th grade. It's kind of weird. Honestly, I would feel more comfortable with someone who has more life experience than me. Call me old-fashioned. He's very sweet, and we had good conversations and a decent amount of stuff in common, but I also kinda wish he was a little funnier and more cerebral. (WHERE are all the smart, funny, well-educated men in this world????) But he's a good person and cute enough to make out with, so I would probably give him another shot.

Although he told our mutual friend that he's into me, he hasn't called me. Fixer-Upper wants me to call him, but I refuse. I set up the first date. If he wants to see me again, he knows where to find me. *dusts off hands*

Meanwhile, St. Patty's Day is right around the corner. I don't know if I've mentioned it before, or if any of you have heard, but we have a MASSIVE St. Patty's Day festival here every year. It's the 2nd biggest east of the Mississippi. This is the day that the rest of Savannah's year pivots around. We even have a big countdown clock for it. (I highly recommend it, btw, because you can walk around with open containers here in Savannah and we have a ton of bars! You're all invited!)

The cool thing is, this year, for the first time, I live on the parade route!!! Although the parade starts at 10am, everyone starts drinking earlier than that. So I'm having all my friends over for snacks and parade-watching and beer drinking. I can't wait! Then, I'm going to another friend's house for a dinner-time cookout. Then I'll hit the bars -- hello, cute vacationing single men!!!! Just so you know, I am Irish!!!!

Speaking of cute, single vacationing men and St. Patty's Day, I texted New Year's Eve Guy to invite him to visit for St. Patty's Day. I figured, what do I have to lose, right? I thought he would not be into this idea or (worse) completely ignore my text, but that didn't happen. He said he can't go because he's attending another event this week, but he's definitely got Savannah on his wish list. Yes, he used the word "definitely". And I'm clinging to it!

I know I don't know him very well, but somehow, this guy totally got under my skin. Go ahead, laugh at me and my long-shot crushes. But there's just something about him that I am SO into. Probably because he's one of the funniest and most fun people I've ever met. *sigh* He's younger than me, too, although not by much. Did I mention he's super fun to make out with? *swoon*

Am I a cougar? Or some other feline species? Someone needs to set up an official, tiered system for cougars, snow leopards, cheetahs, et al. so I know what to call myself. This sounds like a job for Mystery.

In other cougar news, (yes, dear readers, there is more!) I was hanging out with my dad's ex-wife this past week (long story). She's 70 and looking for a place to retire. She wants to live in one of those all-inclusive resorts that have tennis, swimming, etc. She was telling me all about these complexes, and then she happened to mention that these retirement communities have major HIV epidemics in them!!!

Excuse me?

Well, it turns out that many of them are widowed, bored, popping Viagra like it's going out of style, not in the habit of using condoms, and so when you combine all of that together, you get...well, HIV problems. I didn't believe it until I did some research. Huh. Who knew.

I'm not one to end on a depressing note (I mean, who likes to think about Grandma humping her way through retirement? Not me, and I don't even have a grandma!) so I will leave you with one of my favorite MadTV clips. Lorraine was one of the first (and best!) cougars of all:

Movin' On Up

Hey Y'all --

Ok, it's gorgeous outside and I really want to go for a run before it gets too dark, but I had to post super quick. Updates:

1. Yes, I got the promotion!!!! YAY!!! Go me!!! I have worked my butt off for the last 2 years, and it's so nice to get recognized. I am technically "Interim", but I think it's because the school is broke and they don't want to have to pay me -- yes, I am still awaiting word on my compensation. But I will be compensated. Now that my Big Boss is gone (her last day was Wednesday), I am * gulp * in charge. So now I supervise like...20 people. This should be interesting.

2. Magically, my free internet is back!!!! This is soooo awesome, cuz I gotta pay my taxes.

3. Bought a new mattress today. I feel like a grown-up. I got a good deal and waited for a good sale and comparison shopped. I know new mattresses are not very exciting, but I have not been sleeping well for a while and considering my mattress is over 10 years old, I'm pretty sure that is playing a role. For some reason, mattress shopping was an intimidating process for me.

4. Mattress shopping got WAY more interesting today when I walked into the mattress store and was helped by a SUPER hot guy. Swoon! He could have sold me anything. I was a goner. But I stuck to my budget, so that's good. I should have asked if he was included in the price. Tee hee! Note to self: work on flirting skills.

5. Sunday is my birthday! YAY! I am turning *ahem* 22. Ok, not really. But just pretend that I am. I took today off to run errands (and buy mattresses from hot guys). Tomorrow I am going to an oyster roast and a baby shower, and the heading up to Columbia to party w/MJ for my Birthfest (as we like to call it). Hopefully, this will involve smooches with hotties. But I am mostly looking forward to MJ time -- we have lots to catch up on. She and I will go shopping on Sunday, and then my new mattress arrives on Monday morning.

So far, 2011 rocks. I can't wait to see more!!!!

It's Friday!!!

Time for something fun!!!! YAY!! Weekend!!!

CN and I love this commercial, and we have started to say, "What the French, Toast?" to each other. *snicker* Hope you think it's as funny as we do.



CN told me about these next two videos. He said that I'm lucky Kelly doesn't live near here, or else I would have serious competition. *rolls eyes* My coworkers think they are a riot, but MJ doesn't think they are funny. All I know is, I can't stop saying, "Lemme borrow that top!"

*WARNING: These are NOT suitable for work or children! So turn your speakers down!*


Ok, I am STILL laughing about these Kelly videos, and I've watched them at least 5 times. This guy (whoever he is) needs to make more Kelly videos. Or else I will "betchslap" the stupid outta him!

Well, we all know this weekend is The Superbowl! This year I am hoping the Giants will win. My fam is full of Colts fans, so rooting for the Giants is as close as we can get. Besides, I like to root for underdogs. Although, Tom Brady is pretty hot.......OMG, girls, have you checked out the new Stetson ads? Yee-Ha, Cowboy! *faints into puddle on floor*

Where was I? Oh yeah. If you want to see some of the commercials that will air, check out this site.

Who are you cheering on in The Big Game? Do you have any fun plans?

Dinner with Time Bombs

If you've been reading my blog for a while, you know my friend (and now, roommate) E is dating a guy I refer to as B. It was B's birthday last week. So a group of us planned to go out to dinner.

Originally, we were going to go to B's favorite place -- The Flying Saucer -- on Friday after everyone got out of work. But on Tuesday, I was informed that it had been changed to Thursday night at Copper River. This change in plans sucked for several reasons:

1. I work on Thursday nights, so I had to find someone to work for me.
2. In order to get to Copper River in time for dinner, ALL of us had to drive in rush hour traffic.
3. Copper River's food sucks, whereas The Saucer's is pretty good.

But I didn't have much say, and one bad night wasn't going to kill me. Plus, E really wanted me to go for moral support. So I worked it out, and drove to meet everyone.

Through 30 minutes of rush hour traffic.

In the rain.

With broken windshield wipers.

Arg.

When I arrived, I was rapidly approaching irritated, to say the least. Who was there?

E&B, obviously.
Also Butter and her man, Country Boy
W & YB (aka Young Balls, her boyf)
Mr. & Mrs. Chemical (oh, the joy)
Two Face (B's little sister)
Me

Hmmm...but where was B's roommate, Rob Thomas? He was supposed to be bringing his new girlfriend. (This is going to be some event, huh?!)

It turns out, the whole reason we even changed all these dinner plans around was because Rob Thomas wanted to, for some scheduling conflict. Because that makes sense: it's not your birthday, and so you feel the need to inconvenience everyone else because of your schedule.

But oopsie! Rob forgot he had a softball game that night, so he wasn't going to be able to make it anyway. He called B to tell him this 15 minutes before dinner started.

Remember, it was raining. So the game was probably canceled. He was more than likely sitting on his couch because someone said he doesn't like to drive across town. WTF???

Ugh. The more I learn about him, the less I like him. What a douche.

Anyway, so we all sit down to dinner. Unfortunately, I sat at the end of the table with Mrs. Chemical and Two Face. Oh boy. Now I know why E wanted me there for moral support. I am the bitch blocker for the evening. So I immediately began to run interference and keep them away from E, at least conversationally. E wisely talked to B for most of dinner.

A little word about Two Face. Apparently, she met me one time a year ago, but I have NO recollection of this. I think her memory is slightly frightening. And while I have no personal reason to call her "Two Face", I have heard nothing but horrible things about her from several people. And these opinions were all offered to me confidentially and independently, by trusted friends of mine. What I've heard, in a nutshell: she's a hypocritical, Bible-beating liar who makes up things to make E look bad in front of B's parents. But to your face, especially if you don't know her, she's the nicest girl you'll ever meet. Wowza. I took a deep breath, smiled, and started with small talk.

Luckily, she and Mrs. Chemical were surprisingly pleasant to me. In fact, if I didn't have pre-conceived notions about both of them, I would have thought I'd made two new friends! I mean, we kinda had a good time....I think....

But in reality, it was more like having dinner with two grenades: I didn't know if/when they were going to explode and whip out their evilness on me. It was fairly stressful, sitting there with a fake smile plastered on my face. I didn't want to ruin B's birthday or cause any problems. Somehow, I made it through without a hint of awkwardness or bitchiness on anyone's part.

"Hmmm," I thought. "Maybe I was wrong about Mrs. Chemical, and she's just one of those people who has to warm up to you. And maybe Two Face is just misunderstood..."

I kept my thoughts to myself until after dinner, when I was alone with W.

"Um, am I crazy, or is Two Face a totally sweet girl?" I asked.

"Oh, no, she's pulled that one on you, huh?" W replied.

"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled.

"She does that around people she's just met. Little Miss Wonderful. Wait until you hang out with her some more. You'll start seeing the real Two Face," she explained.

Great. I can't wait.

"I'm sure. But what was weird was, even Mrs. Chemical was nice to me," I continued.

"Oh, you must not have seen the two of them whispering to each other after dinner. They were being totally snarky," she said.

I had gone to the bathroom after dinner, and must not have noticed. I nodded in understanding.

"Don't you think it's kind of weird that Mrs. Chemical got her hair dyed the same color as mine just a day after seeing my new hair color?" I asked.

"Oh my gawd. She saw you last Saturday, and just said she changed her color last Sunday. She did, didn't she? That's weird," said W.

(After pointing this coincidence out to several friends, one girl dubbed me "Trendsetter", so now I'm totally ok with it. At first I wanted to get in her face and shout, "Stop copying me!!")

Where was I? Oh yes, our less-than-average meals were over.

Everyone went home after dinner, except me, W and YB. The three of us hung out at the bar for a while. A bunch of YB's buddies arrived and we all had a good time. As we were hanging out, I began to notice how many men were there.

"W, this is awesome. It's a total man buffet in here! I mean, I'd heard good things, but now I know! I've just never had the opportunity to come up here at night. And this is just a Thursday! Imagine what a Saturday would be like! And there's all kinds of guys, too. Not just one kind!" I gushed.

"Ooh, yeah, there are a lot of guys in here, aren't there?" she replied. (I was momentarily taken aback at her temporary blindness to all things hunky. We were surrounded by waves of manly goodness!! Must be because of YB's presence. He was impairing her vision.)

I sighed with happiness. "Aah, a new place! I'm glad I wore this low cut top!" I thought. "Ugh, unless that's what Mrs. Chemical and Two Face were whispering about....actually, who gives a crap what they think. No one likes them. And I have great boobs."

Social Butterfly

Holy cow, this week has been a big blur. I have gone out every night except Tuesday, and that's because I had to work. I've had a good time, but last night was especially fun. I don't know if it was because both neighbors have (in theory) asked me out or if it was my good hair day or because I listened to my official "Going Out Tonight" CD (which always gets me in the mood) or what, but I had confidence oozing out of my pores. I was ready to party it up with the Happy Hour Girls: E, Talker and KittyKat. (Butter & S couldn't make it.)

You will be glad to know that the only voices I took with me were Confident and Pervert. :)

It was going to be a good night.

We started with a neighborhood block party in Talker's neighborhood. Unfortunately, I showed up about 20 minutes before my friends did. Ugh. I hate it when that happens. Considering I am naturally very shy, I could feel my confidence slipping away as I sat at a table, alone. True to form, everyone was dressed in their finest preppy attire and didn't talk to any "outsiders" such as myself. So I sipped my water and read a brochure while I waited. Usually, Southerners are really friendly, but in situations like this, where I'm wearing Express instead of Lily Pulitzer, they can get snooty pretty fast. I felt like the Whore of Babylon. "Note to self," I thought. "The next time you see someone sitting alone, go talk to them. Don't be a snooty Southern Belle."

I hoped my friends would hurry up before I let my shy, reserved side come back out. I was tired of being shy. I was ready to be crazy and have fun and flirt! I could feel my old College Self coming back, and it was great! (College VB is the most super fun side of my personality!!)

Luckily, my friends arrived en masse, and brought along 2 more girls I met briefly the week before: Teacher and Sweet Cheeks. Old friends and new friends -- my favorite mix of people! Yay! We caught up and had some food before heading to our usual hang out, Wild Wings.

That's when the craziness started! Beers clinked, shot glasses emptied, eyes winked and laughter filled the air around us. We had so much to discuss: Talker and her boyfriend had recently broken up, KittyKat was thinking about dumping her boyfriend, I had to tell them about Hot Neighbor semi-asking me out, E needed to talk to me about moving in this weekend, Teacher needed to get drunk and we all had to tease KittyKat about her huge crush on our favorite bartender. We were a party in and of ourselves, and even roamed all over the bar, but we also ended up talking to a lot of guys.

A guy E used to sorta date ran into us. None of us had ever met him, so that was interesting. He was fine for a while, but then he got drunk....and started invading personal space. That's when I found out he had onion breath. Yuck!

I saw a lawyer I know. He used to sorta date Blonde, one of my nursing friends, so I went over to say hello. He ended up asking me out, which I found very inappropriate, considering he used to be involved with one of my friends. So he got shot down.

Then he introduced me to his friend. He seemed nice at first, but when I told him I am a librarian, he said, "Oh, my ex-wife is a librarian!" ...and then he proceeded to launch into a condensed version of why/how his marriage fell apart. He finished the story, and then proceeded to ask me out. Good grief. What is with these guys? I do not want to date a Davy Downer! He was too depressing. The thought of making it through a meal with this guy seemed unbearable. He needed to check his baggage. He got shot down, too.

Another guy that was with them tried to come over and talk to me later on. But I was on my way upstairs. When he whined about having just come all the way downstairs just to talk to me, I said, "Honey, I'm a social butterfly. You gotta keep up!" and continued on my way.

I was on a roll!

When I got upstairs, I saw that Teacher was in the process of getting plowed and was on the verge of making out with a guy by this point in the evening. Sweet Cheeks and I giggled as we watched them falling all over each other. I'm sure she'll be incessantly teased tonight.

Then I was talking to Talker when a guy she knew approached us. I had my back turned to him as he came over to us. When she introduced me, he turned around and I saw: The Banker.

Backstory: One night, way back in January or February, I was at WW, waiting for the HH Girls to show up. The Banker approached me and we hit it off. I gave him my number right before my girls arrived. Then I said goodbye and went to join my friends. For months afterwards, he would randomly drunk dial me in the middle of the night and ask me tons of mundane questions: What do I do for a living? What part of town do I live in? Do I have any siblings? etc. Needless to say, it got old. After asking him several times to just call back during daylight hours and getting no compliance on his part, I eventually had enough and told him to leave me alone. That was several months ago. I deleted his number, and I assume he deleted mine.

"Oh, yeah. I've already met Virginia. I'm sure she remembers who I am," he said, bashfully. I could tell he felt uncomfortable.

"Of course I do," I said, smiling. I had forgotten how adorable he is! Before I could really start flirting with him, he bolted. While I understood his discomfort at the situation, all I could think was, "Dammit! Come back here! I want to give you another chance!"

I turned back to Talker and gave her the backstory about The Banker. She told me he's a really nice guy who probably just got nervous. I saw him again, just as I was leaving, grabbed his hand, smiled and said, "Bye..."

I'm sure I'll see him again. Maybe tonight. Maybe 3 months from now. It's ok. I didn't need to give anyone my phone number last night. I had something far more important going on: I got my mojo back! No more shy & reserved VB! WOOT!!

I'm such a heartbreaker, huh?

Thursday 13: The Nice Guy

A couple of posts back, Kraig left me a link to a well-written blog post about the problems facing Nice Guys and what to do about it. (I know, Stuckey, I can practically see your ears perking up at this topic!) I really liked it, and would have left a comment, but I'm sure in the 150 or so comments left there already, someone else has probably already said what I would say.

Some of my male readers worry that the Southern Gentleman is dead. I worry that the Nice Guy is dead. Too often he is rumored to be a Nice Guy, when really, he is one of these:

The Doormat (definitely the most common!)
The Asshole who Just Has Nice Manners
The Mama's Boy
Issues Guy
The "All I Have to Offer You is Nice" Guy
The Still-In-the-Closet Guy
Nice for the First 6 Months Guy
Mr. Smoke & Mirrors

There are so many more. I can't even continue to go on and on about this, or else this post will end up being too long. Besides, my point here is not to describe what ISN'T Nice Guy, my goal is to describe what I think a Nice Guy embodies. I have based this list off of qualities I have admired in my father, my brothers, guy pals of mine, good friends of the family and boyfriends (mine and others').

Note: The following list is just my own, humble opinion. I have no idea if any other girl on Earth will agree with this post. If this list is absurd, then I guess we all know why I'm single, right? Ok, here goes.

1. He has a healthy relationship with his family, especially his mother. Note: He is NOT a Mama's Boy. There is a difference between calling her once a week and eating dinner at her house every night. The relationship with the mother is key, for that usually translates into all of his relationships with women. Nice Guys like women. They enjoy their company, their mannerisms and they find women very entertaining and nurturing beings to be near. They respect and enjoy women, even if it's not a woman they are romantically interested in. They are just happy that women exist. This plays a big role in why they are good husbands.

2. He is nice to strangers, animals, old people and children (not just women he is hoping to date, like the article seems to imply). He may even go out of his way to make their lives better: leaving a nice tip, helping them cross the street, getting the kitty down from the tree -- all without the hope of getting any sort of reward. Kind of like Superman. Just saving the day, one problem at a time. He has the ability to feel sympathy, empathy and concern for others. He is thoughtful and considerate. But he is not a Doormat or a Crier or overly emotional about it. He just realizes that we are all human (or living creatures) and deserve respect. He enjoys putting smiles on people's faces. He is a good father, neighbor, boss and citizen.

3. He has manners. Please and thank-you (and yes, door openings) don't happen as often as they should these days. Good manners are refreshing. Again, the manners are not done in order to get a reward. He would be behaving the same way if no one were watching. Total Assholes don't usually have manners.

4. He doesn't draw unnecessary attention to himself, instead preferring to remain low-key and un-flashy. The word "humble" comes to mind. He understands that it is possible to be confident and successful without shoving it in everyone's faces or bragging about it.

5. He is a hard worker with goals. He is not a moocher or a loafer. He doesn't live in his parents' basement. He hasn't been unemployed for a year straight. He makes the best out of bad situations, so if the economy goes in the shitter, and he finds himself frying french fries for a living, dammit, he's going to be the best fry fryer on the East Coast. Or whatever. He'd rather be making minimum wage and living in a shack than moving back in with Mom & Dad.

6. He doesn't think it's acceptable to break the law. Nice Guys are not into drugs, violence, shady business dealings, throwing bodies in the East River or "borrowing" things. Nothing in their house "fell off a truck". In fact, there's nothing sketchy about him at all. He's a regular, upstanding citizen. He's not even all that keen on strip clubs or porn. Too much of it makes him uncomfortable. This is because he respects women.

7. He is reliable and understands how to step up to the plate when the chips are down. Or whatever that phrase is. You know what I mean. The Nice Guy is the one who doesn't complain when the Boss asks him to stay late. He's the guy who volunteers to drive their neighbor to the airport. He does what he says he will do. You can count on him. He volunteers to go out of his way when he sees someone needs his help. (Again, he expects nothing in return!)

8. He is confident and knows who he is and what he stands for. He knows he's a good catch and a good person. He knows what he likes and what he wants. He doesn't need anyone's second opinion or reassurance. He seems to have an innate understanding of what is right/wrong and what he wants out of life. People have an easy time believing this, because it oozes from his pores. He's not boastful or full of himself. Just confident.

9. He expects to be treated in the same way he treats others: with honesty, dignity and respect. He is not a Doormat who puts up with abuse or neglect. He is not controlling, nor does he demand that people treat him a certain way. He does not shirk responsibility or try and pretend like no one's feelings were hurt. He wants to see problems resolved fairly, even if it means admitting his own faults.

10. He respects himself and holds himself to high standards. He's not going to be getting hammered every weekend like a frat boy. He's not going to turn into a fat slob. He doesn't think playing video games is the best way to spend a Saturday. He doesn't procrastinate or see what he can get away with in life. Nice Guys strive for self-improvement most of the time. (They aren't robots -- everyone needs ice cream and a nap now and then!) By having self-respect and maintaining his personal standards, as a result, he is both mature and interesting. Which makes people respect him even more.

11. He is wonderfully masculine. He is a guy's guy. He's not effeminate in any way, even though he loves being around women. In fact, he's very comfortable being manly. He is funny and laid-back and confident (gosh, I keep using that word!). He puts others at ease while still being a fun and energetic person. He usually has projects going on -- a new fun idea or hobby. He's never bored. He never expects others to entertain him. He enjoys manly things -- cars, explosives, sports, scotch, model airplanes, cigars, feats of engineering -- but is also cultured in some way. He reads. Or enjoys opera. Or likes art. Or can hold a discussion about philosophy. No one thinks he's gay or a wuss because he is cultured, because he also enjoys the stereotypically manly things. He oozes manliness from his pores. He's not afraid to pick up the reins and run the show if necessary or call people out when they have crossed the line. He's got balls.

12. He is living for something beyond himself. He possesses the ability to see the world as more than just HIM. He realizes how he can make an impact and leave the world a better place. He has a passion about it, actually. He has morals, ethics and believes in something, whether it's God or the kindness of strangers or just the perfection of Mother Nature. Whatever.

13. He is stable. And not just job-wise. He is the sort of guy you never have to worry about. He's not going to have a breakdown or suddenly change who he is. What you see is what you get.

I think the term "Nice Guy" needs to be changed. It implies he is nice, and nothing more. When women speak of wanting a Nice Guy, I think they really mean they are looking for a Good Man. So that is the term I will use. Because when women state they are looking for a "Nice Guy", they want so much more than just someone who isn't a jerk. They have dated jerks -- probably a variety of them. They want someone who is totally different.

So the next time a guy whines about how he IS nice, I think he should remember that there is so much more to it than just NOT being a jerk. Guys are looking for a "Nice Girl" -- but they don't mean she's ONLY nice. Right? There are plenty of nice sluts running around. Plenty of nice, ugly girls. Women are no different than men -- we are all looking for the total package.

Good Men are attractive, and I don't necessarily mean physically. They have this aura about them. Yes, they usually smell good or wear French cuff links. But sometimes they wear hard hats and smell like sweat. In any case, there is something about them that is incredibly desirable. And that makes them HOT.

Most "Nice Guys" complain about how women do not give them credit, or don't date them or treat them like crap. I think there are two reasons behind this feeling:

1. They are not dating Nice Girls. I think only Nice Girls recognize, appreciate and value Good Men. Girls who are too young, too inexperienced, too stupid, too selfish and too immature wouldn't be able to spot a Good Man if he slapped her in the face. You think a total bitch, a gold digger or a stupid slut would see a Good Man for who he is? And appreciate it? I seriously doubt it.

2. They only THINK they are a Good Man. In actuality, they do not possess (IMHO) all of the above characteristics. They are nice enough. They embody a lot of the qualities I've just listed. But something's.......missing. And Nice Girls know this. That's why it doesn't work out.

By the way, if anyone knows of a guy like this, and he's single, please send him my way. Thanks.

And I would LOVE it if a guy wrote a post describing a "Good Woman". What is the other side of the coin?

Have I missed any Good Man characteristics?

Alright, I'm sure I have ruffled enough feathers for one day. I am prepared to be ripped to pieces. Have at it.

Conversations with My Brain

I promise I'm alive!

It's just that aside from working on my Big Secret Project, I don't have a lot going on right now. And I really need a break from the Southern Culture posts. I will do more, but for now, I need to stop. It takes me so long to assemble each one of those posts -- being the geeky librarian that I am, I have to do research before posting them.

And it gets tiring. Sometimes you just want to log in and start writing, you know?

After much writing, rambling, editing, deleting and small-decision-making (I have written and re-written this post about 3 times today), I have decided to devote this post to introducing you to a new guy in VB World.

Don't get excited.

Good grief, how long have you been reading me? You should know better than to EVER get excited when I talk about guys on here. Calm down. Nothing happened. Nothing EVER happens. This will probably be the only time I even mention this guy. This post is only being written so that you can laugh at me. I'm in a self-deprecating mood today. Trust me, if something cool happened, the post title would tell you. I promise. Can I continue, please? Are we all calm now? Ok.

Allow me to introduce a new character: Cute Neighbor.

Not only do I have Hot Neighbor, I have Cute Neighbor. Oh yes, I am one lucky girl. 2 hotties on my street, and I have yet to spend more than 5 minutes with either one of them. Awesome. I think I can officially give Bridget Jones a run for her money now.

While most girls would have either dated, screwed or at least knocked back a few beers with neighborhood hotties at this point, I am relegated to spying on both of them through my window blinds, wondering what they are doing, where they are going, and why they are not naked in my bedroom. Just another normal day in VB World. My abilities astound me sometimes. I should get in touch with Cosmo. They could write an article inspired by me: "How to be Totally Pathetic".

Cute Neighbor lives directly across the street from me. When I moved in, my real estate agent informed me that she had grown up with him. Since I hadn't laid eyes on him yet, I didn't pump her for info. But I don't remember her saying anything bad. Perhaps I should ask her about him....hmmmm....

This is what I have observed (yes, through my window blinds) so far: He drives a Jeep, plays golf, works out and plays the drums. He never ever has people over, which seems odd to me, but he does go out on weekends sometimes. He dresses normally. He likes to wash his car and takes good care of his lawn. He can change his own oil, which is major points in my book.

He also has gorgeous eyes. And has a kind of geeky vibe going on. Very pale skin. Gives it away every time. Luckily, the older I get, the better geeky guys sound to me.

How do I know he has gorgeous eyes? Why, because I brought him some cookies one day, about 3 weeks ago. When I get bored, I bake. And since I'm on a diet, I can never keep the stuff in the house. So I give it away to the first person I see. But this was a lazy Sunday, and I didn't have any plans on seeing my friends. So I decided to play Nice Neighbor and go door-to-door, handing out cookies to my neighbors. That's when I met Cute Neighbor. I had (obviously) seen him around, but had never gotten a good look at him. Which meant he had never gotten a good look at me, either. Hmmm. How 'bout that.....

I changed into a jean skirt, reapplied my lip gloss, sprayed on some body spray and began playing Neighborhood Girl Scout.

Eventually, I walked over to his house, noticed how nice and green his yard is (far, far different than mine!) and knocked. He opened the door, and I noticed, in true "guy form", he had apparently never decorated anything. He was a little taller than me, had dark hair and these incredible green eyes. Cool.

"Hi, I'm Virginia, from across the street," I said, smiling.

"Hi, I'm Cute Neighbor," he said, also smiling. He shook my hand. Nice and firm. This is good.

I explained why I was knocking on his door, and he eagerly grabbed 3 cookies and said thank you. As we talked, he ate one of the cookies--he couldn't seem to wait. "Note to Self," I thought. "He is apparently in desperate need of homemade baked goods." We talked about his yard, our neighborhood and how he had meant to meet more of his neighbors. He mentioned that because of work, he has crazy hours. But he didn't say what he did for a living, and I always feel it's rude to ask people what they do. Especially when I'm a single girl talking to a (presumably) single guy. So I don't know what he does. But he wears a suit sometimes. That's all I know.

"Hey, you wanna come in?" he said. That's when I got "The Look". You know what I'm talking about, ladies. That look that guys give you when they are checking you out, but they are trying to hide that fact from you. The look that lets you know they like what they're seeing. It's very fleeting, but it's quite an ego booster, I must say. I don't think guys even realize they do it. It's that subtle. Yet unmistakable.

This momentary expression on his face sent my brain, and all of its parts, into a tizzy.

The Diet/Exercise part of my brain said:

"Hey, those trips to the gym are really paying off! Sweet! Maybe I will start getting this look all the time. If I doubled up on my workouts, at this rate...."

Horny interrupted and said:

"Oooh! Yes! Go inside! Maybe you can make out on his couch! Go for it, VB!"

Single Girl said:

"Don't do it! Play hard to get! Tell him you have a date or something. This is too easy. Make him work for it a little more. Ooooh. Nice eyes. Keep talking to him so you can look in his eyes some more. Just make up something. Keep talking. Maybe he'll ask you out. Hey, it looks like he's got decent arms, too. Say something funny so he will fall in love with you instantly. He's probably already intrigued from the cookies. Keeeeeeeep talking........."

Horny said: "Yeah! Nice eyes! Jump his bones! Like he's gonna protest!"

Cynical said:

"This guy just wants more cookies. He's greedy. He thinks that if he can get you inside, you will offer him more cookies."

"Hell yeah, she's gonna offer up some cookies!" Horny said.

"He's got a girlfriend and he's just going to cheat on her right now, with you, because he's got the chance. Men are assholes, and he's no different," warned Bitter.

"No, no, no. He's obviously either a porn addict or some Dungeons & Dragons geek. Look at that pale, transparent skin. He hasn't stepped away from his X-box or computer monitor in 4 months. No wonder no one ever comes to see him. All his friends are online," said Pessimistically Paranoid.

"Did you say 'porn'?" Horny asked.

"But he seems normal. And total super geeks don't drive Jeeps or play the drums. He's probably super cool. I bet you two have lots in common. You should have a lasagna supper and invite him over. Come on, you've been meaning to have a lasagna dinner for a while. This is a great opportunity!" said Stupidly Optimistic.

Then Overactive Imagination said:

"No.........wait. Going into a seemingly-normal stranger's house? That's how girls disappear. Everyone thought Ted Bundy was normal, too. You don't know him. Maybe he buries women in his backyard. You know, he never has people over. It all makes sense now. His backyard is probably lumpy from all the graves. That's why no one ever comes to his house. His secret would be revealed. Can't you picture the headlines now? Cookie-bearing Woman Disappears: Neighborhood Shocked, Police Want to Question Male Neighbor. And then, two weeks later: Man Buried Local Women in Backyard."

And then Reality, which luckily took over after hearing what Overactive had to say, said out loud:

"Oh, I'd love to, but I can't. I'm actually on my way out."

Which was totally true. I had a gym class to catch. I said goodbye and left my house 5 minutes later.

True to form, he and I haven't spoken a word since. Almost Girl strikes again! The girl who gets checked out sometimes, but never asked out. If this keeps up, I might have to change the name of this blog. You think I'm kidding.

So, what do you think? Did I screw up? Should I have gone into his house? Did he think I was turning him down? Can I remedy the situation? I feel I made the first move and now it's his turn. Perhaps I'm being too stubborn or old-fashioned. Maybe I should make more cookies.......he seemed to like them the first time. Am I just totally pathetic? Maybe I didn't get The Look. Maybe I got an Almost Look. Or maybe he just had indigestion? Or is he maybe thinking along the lines of "don't dig in your own backyard", so to speak?

Arg. I would give anything to hear the conversations he has with his brain. I wonder how it would go...

When it Rains, It Pours

For better or for worse, this little aphorism seems to be true.

Do you want the good news or the bad news first?

Since you obviously cannot answer that question in real time, I will go with the good news first, since it's shorter.

I have a blind date tonight.

Blonde has a new boyfriend, and apparently he's got a friend who would be great for me. So tonight, I am meeting Blonde and her boyfriend. They are bringing my date. What do I know about him? Let's see...supposedly, he's cute. He's in medical sales. I think she said he's got blonde-ish hair. Which is good -- I like blondes.

(I keep getting "blonde" coming up as a word I need to spell-check, but dammit, that's how I learned to spell the word, and it's listed in the dictionary as an alternate spelling of "blond", so bite me, spellcheck!)

Where was I? Oh yes. He is rumored to be a big partier. As in, getting drunk every weekend. Did I mention this guy is in his early 30s? Yeah. I've dated too many guys (I will be discreet and avoid mentioning names) who were frat boys who never grew up. I am really kind of over that kind of lifestyle. Let's hope this guy is a little more mature than his reputation.

Besides, it will be tough for him to beat out Rob Thomas at this point.

Rob Thomas, who has "potential new boyfriend for VB" written all over him.

Rob Thomas, with the nice arms.

Rob Thomas, who has not called me.

Yet.

But he will. Right? I mean, there was too much chemistry! We had a serious make-out session! It lasted approximately an hour and a half. That means something, right?

Alright, good news over. Time for bad news.

Do you remember the P family? Although not blood relatives, I refer to them as Aunt and Uncle P. Their kids are basically like my cousins, since we all grew up together. This family is like my other family. Their house burned down last December. They lost everything. Luckily, their insurance company is taking good care of them and they are rebuilding.

Remember the story of their daughter, GP, who basically witnessed a double homicide? Ok, this is about her. It's bad.

A few months ago, she got knocked up. Oops. Anyway, her boyfriend (who is supposedly a total JERK who is trying to distance himself from her so he won't have to be involved with it) wanted her to get an abortion, but she doesn't believe in them. Her parents want her to give it up for adoption, since she and the boyf aren't getting married. They say it will be really hard for her to be a single mom of a newborn when she's a bank teller and only 24. (I have to say, I am thinking they might be right...) But she wants to keep the baby.

Ok, hold on. I haven't gotten to the bad part yet. Oh yes, it gets worse. If you have a weak stomach, you might want to just sort of speed-read through this part.

So she went to the hospital last week because of a kidney stone. I didn't know this, but if you are pregnant, you cannot take the usual medications for that. Instead, they have to insert a tube directly into the kidney and drain out your urine that way.

Well, they put it in kinda funny, and the tube was pressing on a nerve ending, so she was in a lot of pain.

[Note: sarcasm alert] Which is a really good time for the doctors to ignore you for the next four days.

I am not kidding. The nurses asked the doctors several times to take a look at her. "She's getting worse," they kept saying. Finally, totally fed up and scared to death, Aunt P (her mom) hunted down the doctors and chewed them a new one yesterday.

The doctors go in and look at her. By this point, there is an infection that is spreading through her body. Awesome.

There are crystals in her urine (or maybe it was in her kidneys? Something was crystallizing), which I am pretty sure is not a good thing. Then they realized one of her lungs had collapsed. Why had it collapsed? Um, because her lungs are filling up with fluid as a reaction to the infection.

Because her lungs are filling up with fluid, she cannot get enough oxygen, which has put a strain on her heart. So she has heart arrhythmia, too. So she cannot breathe successfully on her own, which is why they sedated her and put her on a ventilator. She's unconscious and in intensive care.

As a person who is friends with about 4 intensive care nurses, I know what the statistics are for people who go into the intensive care unit. They are about 50/50.

Meanwhile, her body is trying to go into labor, and the baby is only at about 25 weeks.

The doctors said that at this point, they don't know if they can save the baby. They said that even if they can save it, it will probably be mentally disabled for its entire life. They also said that there are so many things wrong with GP right now, that they don't even know what kind of a prognosis they can give her. So her family doesn't even know if she's going to make it.

Y'all, this family has been through so much, you don't even know. Uncle P has lost jobs in the past, one their sons was mixed up in drugs for a while, and then he knocked up his girlfriend and went on the run from the law to avoid his jail time....I know this is personal stuff, but y'all will never meet them, so it's ok. But seriously, this family has been through more than any other family I know. So for GP to get knocked up was bad enough, after they lost their house. And now this? I seriously don't know how Uncle and Aunt P keep their sanity. I would have to be on drugs. Or drink heavily. Shit, just typing this makes me want to cry and smoke a pack of cigarettes.

It seems they just can't catch a break. And I don't know how I can help them at all. I don't have any money, and visiting them would just make me feel like a burden. They are so busy with everything, I feel intrusive calling them. I will just have to keep praying for them and sending them cards. That's all I can do, I guess.

When Czarina told me all of this this morning, she was running around the house, tying up loose ends in case Aunt P (who is more than Czarina's best friend -- seriously, the women were separated at birth) called her and wants her to drive up to DC to be with her.

Czarina hasn't emailed or called me all day, so I am hoping that is a good sign. I am going to call her tonight anyway, though. So if you can, please keep this family in your prayers. They have a lot of support in their community and from their church, famly and friends, but everyone can use more prayers, don't you think?

Cinco de Weekend

Gosh, what a fantastic weekend. I had Friday off, so I ran a bunch of errands before meeting up with Butter, one of the Happy Hour girls, for pedicures. She and I had a great time hanging out one-on-one. If things go well, she might be moving in with me when her lease is up in July. After our pedis, we went to my house for a snack before meeting up with E and her boyfriend B. The rest of the Happy Hour crew couldn't make it this week.

The bar where we were was dead, so at 9:30, we all came to the realization that we were all hungry. B mentioned IHOP and off we went. We porked out on pancakes, bacon, sausage, stuffed french toast*, scrambled eggs, hashbrowns and omlettes. Man, was it good.

*OMG, have you ever had this stuff? It is heavenly.

As we were eating, B&E filled us in on the plans for the next day: B and his roommate were having a small Cinco de Mayo party. Planned activities included: a pinata, badminton, darts, horseshoes and dinner at a Mexican restaurant. We were all looking forward to it. E was especially excited, because it meant I would finally be meeting B's roommate. She had been trying to fix us up for weeks. Suddenly, B chimed in and told me that I need to be informed about his roommate's ear.

"Oh yeah? Why?" I asked.
"Well, his right ear is fake. If you bump into it or something, it might fall off," he explained.
"Um, what?" I said.
E started telling B to shut up and knock it off. But he continued on:
"Yeah, he lost it in a freak accident, and now it's a prosthetic that just snaps on and off, kind of like Michael Jackson's nose," he continued.
"Ok, why am I not buying this?" I said, eyebrow raised.
"Don't listen to him, Virginia. He is making it up. His roommate doesn't have a fake ear," E explained.

Apparently, B is somewhat of an instigator/practical joker. I guess that as he had been telling me about his roommate's supposed fake ear, he had been telling his roommate that I had multiple personalities. "Yeah, so when you meet him tomorrow, can you just sort of twitch and then turn into a totally crazy girl named 'Sarah'?" he asked.

"I don't think so, B," I said, chuckling. (Looking back on it now, it would have been fun to play along...)

Then Butter spied an uneaten stack of pancakes. "Are you going to eat those?" she asked B. He said he wasn't. We expected her to just scoot the pancakes towards her, douse them in syrup and go to town. Instead, she grabbed a spoon and said, "Don't you just love butter?" And we all affirmed that yes, we were indeed butter fans. Well, the next thing we know, she scoops up the large hunk of butter and proceeds to eat it. Of course, this totally grossed out the rest of us. We sat, horrified, as she explained to us that as a child, she would sneak into the fridge, grab a stick of butter, and gnaw her way through it. This funny yet disgusting habit is why we now refer to her as Butter.

After gorging out on greasy breakfast food, we all went home early. The next day, I met up with KT for lunch, went for a run (about 3 miles this time, go me!!!) and then got ready to go to the party. I had to follow Butter there since B and his roommate live in a part of town I'm unfamiliar with and I knew that at some point, I would have to go home and let my dogs out.

When I got there, I finally met B's roommate. I'm going to call him Rob Thomas, since that's kinda who he looks like. He a little younger than I am(25), but he's very mature. He's owned his house longer than I've owned mine, and has already fixed up all the interior! It was the cleanest and best-decorated guy's house I've ever been in, actually. He and I hung out in the kitchen, ate some chips and got to know each other a little bit. He struck me as a very well-mannered, sweet and easy to be around kind of guy. We were starting to hit it off. This was going very well.

Not wanting to be anti-social, we rejoined the group. There were only 8 of us, but we had so much fun playing darts, horseshoes and badminton. By 7:30, we were ready to go grab some dinner. As I grabbed my purse, I noticed I had a missed phone call on my cell.

When I saw who it was, my jaw dropped.

Oh....my....God.....why in the hell would this person be calling me??? After everything that happened. After all this time. WHY?

It was Repo's girlfriend's best friend. The same one who was involved when all the drama happend a couple of months ago. My mind was racing: What happened that would cause her to call me after all this time?? I couldn't think of a reason. I toook E and Butter aside and told them what was up. "She probably called you by accident," Butter said. Still, out of curiosity, I called her back -- no answer. I left a message.

Just when we sat down at the restaurant, she called me back. It was really loud inside, so I left and went outside to talk to her. (This probably looked really sketchy to Rob Thomas....I will have to explain this to him when the time is right...)

It turns out that she had called me by accident. But we took the opportunity to catch up. Since she's going to be around this summer, she said we should get together for lunch sometime. I was taken aback. "Really?" I asked, surprised. I had always liked her, and was glad to hear that she didn't hate my guts. "No, why would I hate your guts?" she asked.

"Well....after all that happened....I guess I just hope I didn't cause any problems between you and [Repo's girlfriend]," I said.

"Oh, no. [Repo's girlfriend] would not even care at all if we went to lunch," she explained.

"Really? I would think she must hate my guts, and probably thinks I tried to sabotage her relationship. I just hope she realizes that was not my intent at all and that I got absolutely nothing out of it," I explained.

"Trust me. She realizes that. She has always been grateful to you for telling her what was going on, and she always believed everything you said. She knows you didn't get anything out of it," she continued.

"Huh? You mean all this time, she believed me? I thought no one believed me, and Repo made up a bunch of stuff about me and that she must hate me," I said.

"Oh yeah, she totally believed every word you said. I don't know what Repo said to her, because he and I never talked about the situation, but yeah, she believes you. And so do I. When it happened, I told her that she's my friend and I will always support her, even if she took him back. And she decided to give him another shot. But she's definitely holding back in the relationship because of it," she went on.

"Wow. I had no idea," I replied.

Just before getting off the phone with her, she told me she's not sure, but Repo might still be reading my blog. She advised me to keep that in mind. I told her I would be very surprised if he was still reading this thing. And even if he is, I don't care. I am just happy to finally get some validation and know that I'm not hated or not believed. That has been bugging me! So the phone call definitely made me feel a lot better.

Ok, so back to my weekend. The 8 of us had a wonderful Mexican dinner, with lots of beer and enchiladas and laughing. By this point, there was definitely some chemistry between me and Rob. He bought my dinner, which really surprised me. I thanked him, and then we all drove back to Rob & B's house.

It was starting to get late, and I'd been away from my dogs for about 6 hours. They needed to go out. So I had to leave and take care of them. Since I would have gotten lost on the way back (their neighborhood is a total maze), Rob offered to go with me. Woot!

I was a little concerned that my car was dirty and that my house was kinda dirty (it had been raining that day, so it smelled like wet dogs, and my sink was full of dirty dishes), but there wasn't much I could do about it now. Luckily, he didn't seem to mind. He helped me walk the dogs when we got there.

We had the best conversations in the car. Since I live on the opposite side of town, we ended up having lots of time to talk. We discovered a shared taste in music and politics, which never happens to me. Plus, he likes dogs. So by this point, I was pretty much sold.

By the time we got back, our ranks had dwindled (too much beer at dinner) to 5. We played horseshoes for a while and then re-lived our college days with a beer bong until about 2am. The guys were hysterical, making bets on the horseshoes and trying to convince each other that it was NOT their turn to bong the next beer. Eventually, Rob and I ended up watching tv after everyone else went to bed.

That's when he kissed me.

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.

Spring Fling

Ok, so I have to tell you about my weekend. It was fantastic. And I have insomnia right now, so I might as well just type up a long-ass post. (I will explain why I have insomnia maybe another time...) This post is going to be hard to write, because I'm going to want to give out very personal and juicy details....which, I can't do. So I will just have to allude to things...

Oh, and there is a theme song for this weekend in Charleston. I don't know why (maybe MJ can enlighten me?), but we all kept singing Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" about 400 times at the top of our lungs. At some point, MJ and one of the guys was running down the beach, punching the air while singing it. Who knows. I wasn't there to see it. But that is the soundtrack to this weekend I'm about to tell you about.

MJ and KT are from New York, so they have a group of guy friends who live up there, either in or near NYC. One of them, a textbook "New Yawkah" (a member of the Rat Pack, who visited us last October. I will dub him Rocky) was invited to a wedding in Isle of Palms, one of the swankier parts of Charleston, SC. He took MJ as his date. They invited me and KT to go with them.

Rocky brought his friend (and coworker) The Magician with him. But more about him in a minute... ;)

So we booked an oceanfront hotel room on Isle of Palms, MJ and KT picked up the guys at the Charlotte airport, everyone came to my house to pick me up, and then we headed to Charleston on Friday afternoon. We stopped for lunch on the way and got to Charleston at about 4pm. Our room was nice, but small. And 5 people sharing one small bathroom was a big pain in the ass. But otherwise, it was great being right on the beach. MJ definitely picked a good hotel.

Friday night, MJ and Rocky went to the wedding. While they were there, KT, The Magician and I went to dinner at this WONDERFUL restaurant called Pearlz. I highly recommend it. It's in downtown Charleston. I had this peppercorn tilapia that melted in my mouth, and everyone else's food was great, too. Great service, nice ambiance. (Looking it up just now on Google, I learned it's owned by the same company that owns Liberty's, one of my favorite Columbia restaurants. Go figure.)

The Magician and I were hitting it off. I thought he was cute, right away. Definitely a spark. Actually, right when i was being introduced and shook his hand, I thought, "Ok, I think this is going to be a good weekend!"

Oh Jeez. I just realized Rocky might read MJ's blog, which means he might read this blog...oh dear. Ok, I am going to have to seriously edit this....or get reassurance from MJ that Rocky doesn't read these.

Ok, the 411 on The Magician: he's my age (28), about 6'2", lean without being very muscular. He's got light brown hair and hazel eyes. he's half Native American and half Scottish -- yeah, kind of an interesting combination, I thought. To be honest, I don't think I've ever met anyone who is more than a sprinkle Native American, so it was kind of cool. He can even say some phrases in his people's language. He is a "Wall Street Warrior"-- he works in some big fancy building, doing investment stuff all day. (To my NYC readers-- I am curious -- are there stereotypes about Wall Steeters? Please let me know. I'm sure I would be amused.) He works near where the Twin Towers were, in a building on the 43rd floor. His family is big like mine. He's very funny, smart and charming. Not really my type in some ways, but at the same time, totally my type. (I know, it makes no sense....then again, some of the best things in life make no sense.)

And remember my dry spell, people.

So i was pretty much doomed. Totally powerless, actually.

After dinner, the three of us went to some bars (Southend Brewery...shoot. I can't remember where else...there's a bar I'm forgetting...).

Anyway, The Magician has a guy pal who lives in Charleston, so he and his wife met up with us at Wet Willy's. They are the nicest couple. We were all chatting in the middle of the bar. Eventually, my feet started to hurt, so I went to go sit down in a corner. The Magician went with me.

....and that's when we started making out like teenagers in the middle of Wet Willy's. There is some debate over who kissed who first, but just for the record, it was his idea. He started it.

OMG y'all. It's a good thing I was out of town, because making out in a bar is NOT my thing at ALL. If I had been in Columbia, my face would have been beet red!!! I kept stopping him, saying, "No! I do not make out in bars! I am not that kind of girl! You have to stop!"

But I only sort of half-way meant it, because he is The Greatest Kisser in the World.

Yeah. I was totally powerless. Putty in his hands.

Oh boy.

Of course, KT, being KT, took pictures of us sucking face in a crowded bar. Awesome. I didn't realize until it was too late. If she ever puts them on the Internet, I will die. LOL

By this point, everyone was pretty much drunk (except me, obviously), so we went back to the hotel.

Meanwhile, MJ and Rocky had gotten totally shitfaced at the wedding and passed out at the hotel before they could even meet up with us. Dorks. Plus, they were each hogging a bed. This sort of messed up our plans (nudge nudge). KT hopped in with MJ. The Magician and I tried to move Rocky, but he got kind of pissed when we woke him up. So he and I decided to take a walk on the beach instead of going to sleep.

Yeah. See where this is going? No, not there. Who likes sand up their butt? Not me. Where was I? Oh yes.

Full moon, light breeze, empty beach...we ended up making out again (Seriously, who is this girl, and where is VB??? It's like the college version of myself went to Charleston this weekend.)....and we got so into making out that we ended up falling over.......and laughing our asses off......and getting sand all over us....

Ok. So then we decided it was too cold, so we went back inside. We obviously didn't want to move Rocky, so we inflated the air mattress and..........well, if this was a movie, this is where the screen would fade to black.

So, why am I referring to him as The Magician? This is why. I swear, y'all, it was like he could read my mind -- I would be thinking, "Gee, I wish he would..." and then he would do it. What guy has that ability??? He not only had the ability to read my mind, but he also has the ability to make things disappear. [Ok, that last line is not as perverted as it sounds. But I am not getting into details. I am seriously editing myself, here, people, because I am trying to keep something in my life private. You can use your imagination. We're all adults. We've all been there. If you are really that nosy or dense, just email me. Sheesh. But if it's any consolation, it's really really hard for me not to spill the juicy details. Don't you love that I have a big mouth when it comes to my personal life?]

I can't believe I did that. I haven't hooked up* in a hotel room full of sleeping people since college (but that's another story). Kind of a jerky move, I know. But they were all asleep. And trust me, if you had been in my position, you would have done the same thing. I don't think wild, attacking tigers could have stopped me.

*Remember, my definition of "hooking up" is: anything more than kissing. Which may or may not involve a run around the bases. So you will just have to wonder what I mean. Sorry.

The next morning, Rocky, MJ and KT went to breakfast at 10am. Since The Magician and I had stayed up a little later than them (AHEM), we slept in. Of course, as they were getting ready, KT spilled the beans and they all made fun of us.....oh well. We deserved it.

He and I got up about an hour later, went to lunch, had a good time. Not awkward at all. We went back to the hotel room just as I got a text message from KT: they were all at the beach.

We had the hotel room to ourselves.

Do the math.

Then he and I joined them at the beach, where we all got sunburned, drank beer and ate corn dogs and ice cream.

We went back to the room around 5ish, napped and showered, and then went out again. This time, we went to A.W. Shuck's for dinner, where we had THE WORST SERVICE I've ever had in my life. A quick run-down:

1. Our waitress was rude and told us when SHE was ready to take our order (which was about a half an hour after we got there) -- she pretty much copped an attitude with us the whole time and never removed dirty dishes unless we flagged her down.
2. Three tables (including us) asked restaurant employees to turn off the hurricane-level arctic fan, but no one EVER DID.
3. The guys ordered martinis. They came out with MAYBE 2 sips in them--a total joke. It turns out the bartender was basically giving them each one shot of vodka. And that's all. Which, if you know about martinis, isn't even how you make them. We had to talk to FOUR people (3 of whom argued with us) before getting the drinks fixed. And they still charged us for them anyway.
4. Did I mention it took us 2 and 1/2 hours to get our food? Yeah. Because the drink fiasco took up 45 minutes. This didn't bother me so much as Rocky, so I am including this in the list on his behalf.
5. They messed up splitting our bill, but it didn't really matter, because it all evened out in the end.

Our bill was about $140 and we left $4. Two of us stiffed her. We ALL left notes for her/managers on our credit card slips. NEVER EAT AT THIS PLACE! It was horrible!! The two tables on either side of us had problems, too. We all revolted.

After dinner, we put it all behind us and got drunk again, this time with MJ and Rocky with us. At one point, looking for our next bar, Rocky saw some very tall steps and did a fantastic Rocky impression (hence his name), as we watched and laughed from across the street. We had a great time, but MJ and KT were both sick by this point, so they left early. (MJ has strep throat and KT has a sinus infection/bronchitis. They were miserable for at least half the weekend. But they were troupers. I'll give them that.) I hung out with Rocky and The Magician until the bars closed, having a blast and (again) making out with The Magician while Rocky hit on Charleston girls. He ended up meeting 3 people (a guy and his girlfriend, and another girl who talked like Minnie Mouse) who were also staying at Isle of Palms. We decided to all get a cab together to save money. Ok, Rocky and the people worked it out. The Magician and I were busy sucking face again.

Because it was the Bridge Run weekend, we could NOT find a cab to save our lives. After 45 minutes, we flagged down one. And by "flagged down", I mean that 7 of us surrounded the cab and squished into it before the cabbie could protest. Then we demanded that the cabbie take us to our hotels. He didn't want to do it because he wasn't supposed to have 7 people in his cab. He could get a fine and there were a lot of cops out. Also, he had "just gotten out of jail", which I didn't buy.

We refused to budge, out of sheer desperation. The guy who was with us was SHITFACED, and so he just started handing the cabbie money. "There, that should get us at least across the bridge," he slurred as he handed the cabbie $100.

We were in a cab with Mr. Moneybags! Sweet!

The cabbie told us to be quiet as he accepted the cash. Of course, at 2am, 7 drunk people cannot be quiet, so they all proceeded to talk loudly and at the same time, which made me giggle. It was a very entertaining cab ride.

Yeah, so we got a free cab ride from downtown to Isle of Palms, which is about a 30 minute ride. All we had to do was tip the cabbie. Suh-weet!

Everyone went to sleep. The Magician and I stayed up (Ok, seriously, are you even surprised at this point?). Unfortunately, we were pretty tired at this point, so we kept falling asleep mid-smooch and finally gave up after a while.

The next morning, MJ felt like crap, so she left to go to the doctor's right away. The rest of us took our time going back to Columbia, stopping for breakfast at IHOP. I continued to tease The Magician by asking him annoying questions about his heritage: Did he live in a teepee on top of a skyscraper? Does he do the rain dance to make the stocks go up? etc. On the way home, the guys answered my 632 questions about NYC. They want us to come visit them and told me I would love it. (My conclusion after hearing what they told me? I am terrified of NYC!! The people up north are very blunt and I know someone would make me cry by the end of the first day!)

Since their flight didn't leave Charlotte until 8pm, we hung out at MJ and KT's house for a while. We went to lunch and shopped. But then, I had to go run some errands, so I didn't go with them to the airport. We hugged good bye, and The Magician told me he wants me to come visit SOON. (He emphasized the 'soon' part. Awww...) KT told me later that on the way to the airport, Rocky kept telling The Magician to marry me, and The Magician said I was a great girl and would make a great girlfriend.

Awww!

Earlier today I asked KT, "Hey, you didn't tell him any of the juicy details I told you, did you? Like, about what I said?" (KT got more details than y'all. Sorry.)

She told me that The Magician asked her the same thing on the way to the airport. How funny! Although KT says she told me everything he said, I guess I will never know....

He didn't ask for my phone number. Which I have mixed feelings about. I'd like to talk to him, but at the same time, let's call it what it really was: a Spring Fling. I mean, people don't start dating in this situation. He lives in NYC, for Pete's sake. It's best to just let it be.

And he doesn't have a myspace page and it's KILLING ME.

Sorry so long, but I seriously had so much fun!!!

My next post is going to be good, too. You see, I didn't even mention the weird dreams I've been having, Toby's trip to the vet, the news about my roommate, or the Hot Neighbor update, now did I?

Tee hee. I'll leave you hanging for now....

Chicks, Dicks, Flicks and Licks

I will procrastinate at work here for a moment to update y'all on stuff. Lots of friends, guy stuff, movies and eating this weekend! So it was good.

Friday night was the usual happy hour with the Happy Hour Girls. It turns out that Columbia is indeed a teeny-tiny town. So tiny, in fact, that I'm starting to know some of my friends through 2 different people. I was talking to one of the HH Girls (I guess I should assign them names eventually...) and she says, "Oh, have you met my friend L?" and I turn around. It was L, a girl I've known for almost 5 years. I was pleased to see that The Frigid Snoot was not with her. (I am thinking they might not be attached at the hip any more--this is the 2nd time I've run into her without Frigid Snoot operating as an extension of L's body.) We laughed at how small Columbia is, figured out how we both knew the HH Girls, and then caught up. She told me how her husband's doing--he's currently in Iraq. We talked about work stuff and she let me pick her brain. As we were talking, it turns out we were both pulled over on the same street, on the same week, probably by the same cop for the same type of speeding ticket. Weird.

Speaking of which, I am going to court after work today. I think my ticket will be lowered to a 2 pointer, which is good. Ugh, I hate going to court. I start shaking because I'm terrified of judges. They're so.....authoritative. And serious.

Oh, one other thing happened on Friday night. I met a cute guy. Now, before everyone wets their pants, just calm down. Nothing happened. Big surprise, right? Ok, background:

I'm enjoying HH. I keep making accidental eye contact with a guy. (Was it accidental? Coincidental? Intentional? I don't know. But every time I looked up, we seemed to be looking at each other. Mmmm. Cute. Tall. Brown eyes...) As the evening progresses, I realize he knows one of the HH Girls. I'll call her Talker. He's friends with Talker's boyfriend D. I ended up being introduced to him and talking to him for about 2 minutes before I got sidetracked into another conversation. A few minutes later, I look up and see him walking out with D.

D'Oh! Way to mess that one up....

So I got the scoop from Talker later. She said nothing but good things about this guy. He seems really nice and smart. She said she'd put in a good word for me. I'm sure he knows where to find me if he wants to talk to me again. I'm not holding my breath. I didn't have enough contact time to determine anything.

Speaking of hotties, Hot Neighbor was out of town all weekend, so I have NO updates for you on that.

Saturday, I made KT's birthday cheesecake. It took FOREVER. I think about 4 hours. But man, it was good. I'll post the recipe if I ever remember to! It had an oreo crust, a layer of chocolate and caramel melted together, then a layer of crushed up heath bars, then the cheesecake layer, and then more heath bar crunchies. MMMMM. If you eat too much, it will give you a tummy ache. I am speaking from experience, here, people.

After MJ and I sang "Happy Birthday" to KT, we went to eat at Za's Pizza, which is mega-delicious. Then we were off to Flying Saucer to see 88 Rewind play. It is always a good time, catching their covers of 80s songs. Seriously, every town should have an 80s cover band. But I digress. MJ's old roommate, S, joined us, which is great because she's really funny. Then MJ acquired a friend who didn't seem to get the hint that none of us were interested in talking to him. (She's much nicer than I am!) We thought he'd left at one point, but he came back with shots of Patron for everyone. Based on the looks on my friends' faces, Patron is disgusting. After that, I was pooped, so I went home. MJ and KT went on without me to go salsa dancing, but I guess they didn't have any luck.

Saturday night, I had a dream about Repo. I dreamt that it was St. Patty's Day and I had to get up to go party with MJ and KT. I was in a bedroom, which looked a lot like my little sister's room. I was waking up and still in bed when Repo and his girlfriend barged in.

I don't think she said much, but I remember she was really rude in my dream. She started fixing her hair and makeup at the dresser, and I proceeded to quiz Repo.

I asked him all about his relationship with his girlfriend. Did he tell her the truth? Yes. Didn't she get mad? No. She didn't get mad??? Really?? Nope. Was he cheating on her? Yes. Did he cheat on me? Yes. And she seriously wasn't mad??? No. [Gotta love the illogicality of dreams, right???] Then he tells me they are getting married. Keep in mind, he and I are rough-housing during this entire conversation-- I don't know why. But we are sort of wrestling on the bed. He thought we were kidding around, but I was actually pissed off in my dream and consciously trying to hurt him. Apparently, I am a weakling, even in my subconscious, because I couldn't hurt him.

At one point, we stop talking and he tells me I can slap him. I said, "Really? Like, hard?" and he said, "Yup." So I then proceeded to slap the shit out of him three times. I hit him as hard as I could. It didn't seem to hurt him, but it certainly made me feel better.

Then I woke up. DANG! I was hoping I'd get to punch him or stomp on him or something. I guess my subconscious had some violence it had to get out or something. Wanting to get that dumb dream out of my head, I got up, drank some coffee and started watching movies.

I watched Night at the Roxbury, Talladega Nights and The Sweetest Thing. At this point, I was in denial that it was almost 2pm and I was still in my pjs. The first two movies crack me up because I have a tendency to share humor with 12 year old boys. The latter is one of my favorite chick flicks because it's not corny, sad, cheesy or full of kissing. It also accurately represents a lot of my real-life friendships (the teasing, the inside jokes, the crazy road trips, etc.) so I just love it. If you haven't seen this movie, you must, ladies. Make sure you watch the extras on the DVD, because they sing a penis song that is hysterical.

Then I ran some errands, baked another birthday cake for a coworker and went to Outback Steakhouse with Healthy Girl, Nurse P and Brunette. MMMMMM....steak.

Tonight I have to make yet another cake for a pot luck we are having at work tomorrow. (I signed up for cake before I realized how many I'd be making! I feel like Sara Lee or something.)