Wednesday, March 31, 2010
This morning, I dropped into my usual breakfast spot to grab a spinach bacon soufflé. In the parking lot, a slick car caught my eye and then I spotted it, one of the most emasculating things I can think of.
Gosh, in fact every time I see this bumper sticker on a man’s car, I almost want to cry for him. I imagine a domineering, insecure wife, looking all Stepford and stuff, presenting this bumper sticker to her husband…an evil gleam in her eyes.
“Look what I’ve bought, darling.” Translation “Put this on your car, Dickhead. Those bitches better know you belong to me, and you better not be out there trying to fuck around either!”
Now, I could have it all wrong. Perhaps the man is over the moon for his wife, his heart soars when he thinks of her, he just can’t get enough, just can’t get enough.
“Oh what a wonderful wife, what a wonderful life!” he boisterously cries out.
Nah, I like the first thought better because that’s how I really feel. I’m trying to see both sides… Ya know, be fair.
Really though, how does this work?
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Before things went sour Friday night I was naturally in good spirits. Spirits which elevated when I saw my favorite club go-er!
There's a guy, whose name I don't know, and he's a very serious, dedication patron and dancer at a Ft. Worth establishment. No, he isn't an employee, just loyal I guess.
Anyway, I've mentioned him before, but on other blog, the old one. Crap! I'd link the post if I could...I keep Breathing Up The Oxygen private :/ If you've been following and made the transition over here to NTO, then you may remember the night I was followed by a weird-o with a paper rose and approached by an older gentleman?
So, this guy whose name I don't know has clearly choreographed moves and I caught some on vid this time around. Yes, he's still going strong months later!
I'm really hating the way this post is going, but enjoy!
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Being so far from my friends, the awkwardness of my dance intensified. Yes, it intensified to the point of Watermelon Scene from Dirty Dancing, after Johnny teaches Frances AKA Baby to “dirty dance”, and then slips away leaving her looking quite asshole-ish.
Doing a campy dance, I yell over the music, trying to slip away, “Uh, don’t wanna dance anymore.”
“I’ll show you how to dance to this kinda music!” he says and the next thing I know, the man bends down, grabs me by the back of the knees and lifts me from the ground.
Airborne and holding on to this creature for dear life, he began to shake me up and down like ketchup in a bottle that won’t budge.
All the while, I was screaming at the top of my lungs, grappling to keep my short dress down to avoid exposure. The situation left me with my right arm desperately holding onto his neck while the other hand was twisted behind me shielding my va-jay.
Thank God I wore large, full coverage underpants!
Finally, he relented. I tried making a hurried escape while ensuring the bottom of my dress was lying flat and this is when I had to do a double take.
As if the situation hadn’t been ghastly enough, I looked down and saw nipples. Yes, my very own boobs on full display in da club.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Let me get you up to speed…A whole lot has happened and not happened in the last six days:
- Went on dates with 2 new guys (Date Guy number one, let’s call him DLC, as in doesn’t like candy. WTF, right? And, I’ll call the Date Guy number 2 Urban Cowboy, not to be confused with my previously mentioned favorite mistake, P.C)
- Experienced a freak snow storm after a 75 degree day
- Spring Break ended
- Went back to work
- Haven’t consistently slept in my bed
I realize this is a lot for one post, no worries; I’ll keep you abreast of only critical points.
Friday, was an awesomely warm spring day of about 75 degrees, and there was a date lined up with DLC. We met, I ate, and we both had 1 Coke and 1 alcohol drink. Two lame asses in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.
Somehow I ended up going to his house Saturday morning to watch movies.
*I always say never agree to “watch a movie” because ultimately it means he wants to see your vagina* He seemed to be on the up and up, so like I said, I went and F.Y.I., there was no vagina watching.
Saturday evening, I met U.C. at Starbucks for coffee. This is when the freak snow storm began. Good God, he’s gorgeous and kind! I’ve decided to keep him in my queue. Is that bad?
Okay, here’s where things get weird.
Sunday, I went back to DLC’s house and spent the night and, no there wasn’t any “movie watching” going on you perverts. I’ve become a serial dater, not hooker. I spent Tuesday and Wednesday night at his house, as well.
Summing up the situation, Facebook Msging with a friend not really named Roger:
theres a weird sort of connection
and seems so natural and unnatural at the same time
i cant work it out in my mind
step back and get a little clinical, k
I wholly agree with the friend. Things are excellent, but incredibly too fast. I definitely don't want to jump into anything even though I sort of have by spending so much time with DLC. He's cute, nerdy, tells horribly long jokes and so, so nice. I feel like myself around him.
Things are so much easier when the men are jerks!
Enough. Take a mental vacation and enjoy this video because I haven't any good pics to offer. I'm posting this vid not only because I thoroughly enjoy this song, which is stuck on repeat in my head, but for a bloggy friend :) -okay!
Friday, March 19, 2010
A second date has yet to pan out with the most recent Tuesday night guy. I appreciate all the crossing y’all did, but clearly you didn’t cross good enough.
No, I shouldn’t be ugly to you, friends. Y’all are great, great people who really know what’s up. Again, thanks for your help. It’s not you’re fault this guy sucks at making smart decisions.
I always say, "Never trust a guy in white sneakers", but I must also add "Never trust a guy with a faux hawk" to my list as well. Seriously, ladies!
Wednesday night, St. Pat’s Day, I went to a local bar, however not the local bar intended because they were charging cover and babes are broke these days.
St. Pat, St. Pat, you aren’t much of a Saint...You made me stay up late boozing, which resulted in a case of bubble guts in the morning. That was so not nice! You also sought out a handful of semi-English speaking men to follow my friends and me around the bar, totally messing up what little game I do have. Wait, I don’t like bar men. Either way, the game was screwed thanks to these guys.
Had fun though!
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
I tried to withhold information for fear of jinxing myself. We all know I don’t have the Luck (of the Irish) when it comes to finding a suitable suitor to rope. I’m diffident about this revelation, guys, I really am.
Ok, I’ll shut up already and break the news; I went on a date. I know you’re thinking, “Big deal, what else is new?”, but let me say what’s new is I’ve run across another one I’d like to see again. That’s why there's such an immense amount of fear in sharing this. It’s very rare I admit interest, makes me feel entirely too vulnerable.
I’ve got heaps of questions buzzing through my head:
Will he call?
Does he want to see me again?
Was I enough of myself to charm the pants off of him?
What are this guy’s intentions?
Is he going to turn into a rude asshole like The Short Russian a.k.a Hot Lips?
Could I really date a guy with brown eyes?
When is he going to call me?
Is this going to be like the Crush Not Reciprocated?
Will he hang out with me another time, get wasted, try to mug down in public while talking in pout-y, baby voices, and then tell me about his prior experience with three-somes and ask me to put my hand on ‘it’?
Did he call me yet!? (yes, I realize it's mid-day Wednesday :P )
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
A few men folk around the place; Unheard of and magnificent considering I spend so much time blogging about men!
Thank you and welcome.
Now, let’s get down to biz.
I’m on Spring Break and it flippin’ blows! I should be happy for a break and don’t mean to bitch, but at 28 it’s not like I’ve got a friends rallying to hang out during the day. I mean, really, they’re respectable adults with jobs. I will have to rework the Spring Break attitude for next year.
To break up the monotony of the day I head to the dollar movie theater, but found the line incredibly long and snaking. What else was I to do other than drive to Dallas for nachos at Tin Star, and more importantly a little…retail therapy? The shopping wasn’t consciously planned, y’all. Stuff happens.
I went to Urban Outfitters because I love their dresses. Oh shit, this is where I lose the fellas…dang! Quick and painless, I promise.
I bought a rad Aries necklace. See, astrological necklaces are a dime a dozen, but I found this particular piece oh so awesome because it has the constellation…SCORE!
Then, I was on a roll. I went to another Urban Outfitters about 2 miles away. Guess what happened?
FYI: Your friend Steph has a thing for purple these days and an undying love for strapless dresses and again, kickball is cancelled because it love to rain in Texas on Tuesdays..
Okay, the pics aren't great, but I never claimed to be a photographer :P
Monday, March 15, 2010
During the little brother’s birthday party, I was receiving texts from, uh, let’s call him Hot Lips :
“Hey there, just got off. At Target. Long day…What’s up?”
“Lemme know if u wanna drop by during the week”
Which all this later turned into, “Why don’t you come over today?”
I hesitated, thinking this wasn’t such a great idea, but boredom got the best of me after the party. I decided I’d go ahead go over and then we could go out.
We talked on the phone, he sent a text with his address and then I was on my way.
Now, mind you this address didn’t include an apartment name or number. This information is somewhat key. He also lives in a city I do not frequent, nor am I familiar with.
I get to his exit, head north on the toll road, make all the proper turns and see a complex I assume is his.
I ring him up:
“What’s the name of your apartments?”
“They’re called Blah, Blah, Blah.”
“Oh, okay, I’m here. Do you live in the 1st or 2nd building?”
“There’s only one building.” –there were totally TWO buildings!
“Are you near *some landmark*?”
“No, what’s a *some landmark*?”
“No, I only see a Hampton Inn.”
“Oh, wait, here is it is. Can you come down and meet me?”
“No, just park by the *some landmark*”
At this point I become annoyed because I think it’s only decent to walk down and meet a sista, right? I mean, really! ...Don’t live there, never been there, have no idea where I am, why the fuck not!?
I hang up, but only after first getting his apartment number and more directions which include me walking up stairs.
I sit in the car, take a deep breath, trying to chill out a little.
I walk into the apartment building and see door after door, no elevator, no stairs. What in the world…
I go into another entrance, seeing the exact same set up. At this point, I walk back to my car, ready to say the heck with it and head back home. Forty stinking minutes back home!
I call one last time to say I’ve gone inside and can’t find where I’m going, to which I get a totally condescending reply, and this is where I get hood. Remember, I told you I got hood?
Okay, so I really wasn’t really all that hood, but I frankly let him know what I thought of him, his lack of manners in the situation, and how him walking down a flight of stairs wouldn’t bring him to his death. Then, he tried to get kind, asking where exactly I was and I told the son of a bitch I was already on the highway, heading home.
No more Hot Lips.
I figure if he was talking to me in the manner he did, his funky little attitude would only get worse. I’m truly thankful I never made it into his front door.
Guess there was a reason I felt the hesitation.
The blender started up, and mudslides were made. Somehow requesting just a little bit literally means you're going to get a teeny weeny bit- My mistake!
What the heck, yeah?
Terry (the birthday boy), Moi, and Alexei, the giant baby of the family.
One of the brother's 3 dogs, Mocha, was definitely in a celebratory mood.
This is my youngest cousin, which reminds me I forgot to post his birthday pics. His party was a real doozy. Not only was it his birthday, it was my coming out party although I'm totally non-lesbo.
Me attempting a serious glare at my other cousin...
He’s new to the area. We’ve been corresponding for a few weeks and finally met. Like usual, there were no special sparks working me into a tizzy. In fact, he was shorter than advertised with a round, bald spot smack in the middle of the back of his head. Now, don’t get me wrong, I have my pitfalls as well, especially since I quit taking my birth control and have little pimples sporadically sprouting. I’m merely emphasizing the lack of attraction I felt for this guy. And, Lord knows, I’m totally sick of guys misrepresenting their height, unless I’m like 5’9 and have no idea and I’m the one exaggerating my size.
Needless to say, another no go, but hey(!) there weren’t any weird revelations or unwanted advances, so I must say the meeting went well.
Another Dallas newbie and shorty, but at least I wasn’t taller this time around. I was way more casually dressed than he, but oh well; I was suckered by his attractiveness. Initially the conversation was like pulling teeth. He wasn’t divulging much and for Pete’s sake a girl needs something to work with in order to make conversation. I took a little pity because he did seem incredibly nervous.
After awhile the mood lightened and all was okay. The date ended and I respectfully went home after a hot lip lock to get ready for another date which didn’t happen because I got a terrible sinus headache on my way home. Meh.
Oh, and this one also followed up with the message that goes a long way, like the prior week’s #4.
You’re wondering what’s up with the .1, right? I had to cut things short. I’ll tell you later. I’m sure you can imagine things were fairly fucked.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
I know I’ve said this before, but it’s entirely heartfelt; I miss you and I’m sorry. Life has been crazy. 2010 has been a nut fest. Amongst the unemployment, or rather free employment, lethargy, senioritis, dating disasters, moving in with The Moms, and overall burn out, our relationship has suffered. I still love you. I really do. I still creep around your place with a fitful eye.
In a nutshell, I’ve lost my mojo.
Do you, my friend, have any idea how I can reinvigorate the mojo? I so desire to come back to you and be what we once were, when times were good between us.
However, there is one small problem in fixing our problem. See, I’ve piled on yet another situation to compound things. Yes, one more thing to wear my ass down. Do you want to know what the something is, the yet another that’s coming between us?
Remember back when we were meeting up at another address? There was a childhood activity I longed to be a part of, but was unable due to scheduling. Welp, friend, time has finally presented itself.
Yes, it’s true. I will be partaking in a bit of kickball on Tuesday nights. The season officially starts next week with a pick-up game going down this Tuesday.
Please tell me we can work around this minor speed bump, right?
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Dating 4 different dudes in a week is exhausting.
I was somewhat excited to go out with this guy. He looked like Gym (yes, another made up name. One of The Moms came up with the moniker), only taller. Lord, I love men around my height, but the option of heels is always nice to have which isn’t quite possible if he’s 5’7 or 5’8. It seems like there’s always some sort of trade off; either the man is a total hot bod with a receding hairline or has a full, thick head of hair and a less than amazing body. Why can’t I find a happy medium!? Anyway, I’m losing you; let me get back to it.
Ok yeah, he’s cute and super, duper flipping polite. I was completely prepared for the worst, had my wall up and he ending up being a nice guy. Totally has his date etiquette in order. What the hell, right? Talked a whole lot, he actually rang me, instead of texting everything, opened doors, gave his sweater, walked on the proper side of me, didn’t attempt to ram his tongue down my throat/“mug down”, and here’s the kicker. Get ready, Friends…He sent a text asking if I made it home o.k.
The text did it for me; SOLD!
Seriously, I didn’t know how to act. Then, I felt kind of f’ed up because I’m thinking how I’ve been looking forward to a normal, decent date and then BANG! it happens and I become a clueless, silent, mess of a nerd.
I’ve become incredibly accustomed to handling myself in socially awkward situations. Isn’t this a sad state of affairs!? I gotta tell y’all, I’m tired.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
clearly im staying in town
so bad date huh
it didnt start that way
we met uptown for drinks. handsome guy. attorney, traveler, seemed like he's
holding things down, good conversation, fun flirtation.....
he got WASTED!
starts telling me how cute i am in some weird baby voice and trying to mug down on the patio
uh the whole last part is whats wrong
come to find out he brought his own Solo cup filled with vodka and tea, left it outside and wouldnt leave the bar without it
you know how to pick em
A very cute friend of mine has recently joined the Match.com world. We were comparing/suggesting prospects via Facebook chat. Some were serious, and others were more like, "Hey this guy awkwardly holding his cat would be great for you".
The thing with clicking profiles on Match.com is people know you've browsed them. One of my "ha, ha suggestions" struck last night with the following message:
Subject: Like a Snuggie, Except More Fleshy
Damn it, you look like a lot of fun. Why do you have to be all the way over there?