Me: "Hey, what's my favorite restaurant?"

Mom: "Are you on one of those lonely girl sites again?"


....Just tryna answer my bank security question

Fun-ness

I guess you could say, if you really wanted to, Facebook has had an interesting effect on our lives, yeah?


Okay, so like most, I’ve reconnected with friends from as early as my elementary school days back in Mingo Junction, erroneously "friended" men while still in the "getting to know phase", appeared in various embarrassing pics, met a brother and sister after 28 years of living and then a cousin, ran across the former best lay of my lifetime, the person I’ve shared the MOST embarrassing moment of my life with, which has caused me to never think of BBQ tongs and a flashlight in the same way, and then this guy:
Through all that reconnection stuff, I pleasantly bumped into this old junior high chum, which spurred a partner to attend Southlake's Art in the Square.

No, my main purpose for attendance had absolutely nothing to do with modern art, it was all about the frozen bellini, which by the way was totally rad although I think it significantly contributed to a slight case of the poopsies.

While at Art in the Square I saw heaps of art, dancing kids, listened to Rastafarian type-hippy looking singers and the world's worst story-teller, played with an iPad, spun a wheel & won a voucher for a large pizza and took in strange events including a hot make out session and a couple walking their...birds.

Take a peek, Friends:

What, What?

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:
19:53Stephanie
theres a weird sort of connection
its terrifying
and quick
and seems so natural and unnatural at the same time
i cant work it out in my mind

19:53 Roger
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!

Conclusion of Date# .1

Date #2 spawned Date# .1 Too bad I didn’t know it was the freaking Devil’s spawn!

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*?”
“A hotel.”
“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.

image

Sap.

"Either way, it happens to the best of us. I think that we may be a lot alike in the "avoiding drama at all costs" area and then when you have a sudden attack of "gangster-ness" you immediately regret it and think, why am I buying into this mess."

Ok, y'all...

I got this message earlier from a sweet, sugar pie who will remain nameless, and must say, totally sums up how things were Monday. Thank you, Friend :) Just when I complain about dramatic mess, I get a little of my own. Sux Delux, yet reminds me of the avoidance factor.

Here it is, Wednesday, and I'm feeling mostly awesome; I'm completely in love with my new, sparkly, pewter Madden sandles, want to tongue kiss the IRS, and had 2 somewhat successful dates this week & am looking forward to a few more this week.

It's heaps better to focus on positive, let the small stuff slide, and try your damnedest to keep a smile on your face, even if it's breaking out as a result of not refilling your birth control pills. fucking hormones.

yield.

....really...

I don’t expect all to subscribe to my personal set of ethics, but god damn!

*Note:

It's always best, in the heat of the moment, to think prior to acting...just saying 'cause you might send a Facebook message you can't take back and then whatcha gonna do? :/

Why Me?

image

"How old is he? Does he have a cute butt?"

These words were spoken by my recently turned 14 year old cousin upon hearing I had a date last night. Odd.

He is 31 and I wasn’t even concerned with his butt. Okay, I did take a quick peek and welp…nada. Jeepers, cousin’s question provided a great pseudonym for this most recent internet dating victim; Saggy Britches!

Fuck. (Pardon the French)

I will start by describing this date by saying the fella is photogenic, in person, not so much; a little too red headed, pale, and fashion challenged. I can’t date another fashionably challenged man. God help me!? I have my hot mess moments, but nuh uh, not again.

For all intents and purposes, he’s a likeable guy, just not romantically/physically my type. I did get some awesome cheese fries out of the deal and decent conversation. The night wasn’t a total wash.

Here’s the doozy though, the good stuff. The-OMG-why’d-you-just-tell-me-that-but-thanks-for- telling-me-that moment.

Let me back up, paint you a picture.

While talking and what not, a woman approaches, introduces herself to me and proceeds to talk to Saggy Britches for awhile. No big deal. She leaves and he tells me they used to date, still no big deal. The big deal came a tad later.

During the course of conversation The Moms come up and naturally, he asked the typical male question to which I answered how interacting with The Vagina makes me queasy, etc. He told me how the woman I’d just met that he used to date likes the ladies. Still, no big deal.

The doozy came when he said something along the lines of, “Yeah, So & So likes to fuck chicks” and how they had three-somes throughout their relationship.

The End!

Smile

Just Like Britney, Ooops!

I went back to where I didn’t want to go; the country.

Just what does that mean you ask? Well, there’s this guy, who for all intents and purposes I will refer to as PC, as in Pure Country, and well, he lives in the country, hence the moniker. He’s been in the picture for awhile, becoming a more dominant figure around the holidays, but I’ve opted to keep this to myself.

PC is completely “Mr. Wrong” for a number of reasons, annoying as all heck yet somewhat comical. I vowed I’d stop venturing beyond the city limit sign…

My bestie, The N, said she learned from Sex & the City, PC is the type of guy you let go of for the next girl to enjoy. I would, but I’m greedy.

Here’s how it all went down:

I hadn’t talked to him in a few weeks and had been on some dates with other guys, which made me decide to put dating on hold altogether causing me to think I wasn’t going to date, but rather focus on all the mumbo jumbo I’ve got going on, but naturally I retrogressed. Surely, you already knew this was going to happen.

As I was leaving work, I received a text from PC, a stupid, annoying text that pissed me off, especially since Parking-Lot-Blow-Job had text-ed just a few days prior. I thought, “Why are these jerk-offs bugging me?” And then I thought some more and this is where I fluffed up- PC is a jerk, but a familiar jerk; a sexy, familiar jerk.

Sexting ensued.

I found myself back at his house, sitting on his couch, drinking from the same bottle of wine I’d left over there weeks ago, smoking Marlboro cigarettes and eating pizza, while he was beside me, massaging my feet, watching some crap sitcom and continuously glancing at me, making his stupid disbelief faces because I wasn’t laughing at the show. Oh, I hate his stupid scrunched up faces!

Clearly, separation hadn’t thrown off our typical routine.

Break!

My daily routine is anything but routine. Well, that's somewhat of I lie because I routinely get into bed by 5PM. The interning and consequential cold have taken over my life, thus Not the Oxygen suffers. All my wit withers away while I snooze under my electric blanket. Sorry :/

but...

MONDAY IS A HOLIDAY!!!!!

maybe I can catch up?

Still Around

My dearest friends, I’m sorry to have neglected you. You’ll forgive me, won’t you? These past few weeks have been some of the happiest, yet completely trying. If we’re friends on Facebook you may have seen this morning’s status update:

slept for 12+ hours....so odd for me

For real, yesterday, I came home, made some Jiffy Pop and then went to bed all before 6pm.

I love being at the school everyday, however being there is actual work, which I haven’t done in years thanks to my former cushy position in the garage door biz. I can tell the kids are beginning to come around, warm up to me- they ask a barrage of questions and share unnecessary information. It’s sweet!

“What kind of car do you drive?” as I return from lunch.
Pointig to the word ‘handyman’ in a book, “This looks like your last name Ms. So&So.”
“Do you live with your mom?”
“Do you really have a dog or did you make that up?”
“Are you going to work here next year?”
“Do you live in a dorm or at home?”
“Are you his mom?”
“Where do you go to school?”
“What’s your first name?”
“Is that your real hair?”

To be fair, I ask them a lot of questions as well. I’m just as nosey.

So, thing have been great at work, but the online love life is another story!

girls

Dear, dear, dear I’m exhausted and it’s only Tuesday! I feel neglectful in not only my reading, but my writing. Here goes:

As you may or may not know, against the many wishes of others I quit my day job, bar it wasn’t for a lounge singing gig, so I may still be okay on this one; I’ve started an internship at the school I’ve been working at since August.

Oh, these kids…

I full heartedly work my hardest to not be judgmental of parents, but some of the things I observe cause night terrors! Okay, that statement became a tad extreme and a slight dramatic. Seriously though, I’m constantly making a mental “Parental Do/Don’t Do List”. Even with this mental list, realistically, I know I’ll fudge up along the way. Shit, I don’t really do lists. I’m more of a “let’s wing it!” sort of person.

Before I go off track, let me make my point quickly before you lose interest, but let me preface this point by saying this first going off topic again…. I’ve returned to the grade 4’s here comes the sappy stuff and I truly think they’re beautiful, fun little people with tons of potential, granted it’s properly fostered. I genuinely want them all to grow into happy, positive minded, productive contributors to society.

It breaks my heart to think and know this guy in the picture was someone’s baby, just like these kids I’m with. Being the sensitive goon I am, this thought makes me cry just thinking about it. Hell, I’m teary now and thanking God, I didn’t go into social work.

Sheesh, why can’t I stay on track? It’s because I don’t blame the kids for what I’m about to say, I blame the parents, but then again try to give Ol’ Mom and Dad the benefit of the doubt. Forgive me, I can’t stay with the point it because I don’t want to be misinterpreted that’s it!

For Pete’s sake, here here's the deal!

It freaks me the flip out to see 4th grade girls in make-up. I’m yucked out beyond belief seeing hot pink zebra striped acrylic nails attached to a little girl. Skinny jeans and 1.5 inch high boots are, in my opinion, not for little girls. Waxed eyebrows are also a no in my book. Temporary tattoos placed behind the ear, another no.

Can’t.Handle.This.

I Do What I Wanna Do & Your Reading Comprehension Sux Delux

In regards to a prior post

Anonymous said...
you're a creep for posting this stuff. how mean of you.

December 31, 2009 1:14 PM

image courtesy of
found.com

Dearest Anonymous,
It’s in no way nice to name call therefore you aren’t very nice either :/

-Steph

AND on a more positive note, check out StSaint's Relationships Blog Carnival where you can read yours truly and some other fun stuff!