Everything

It's not like I haven't been writing because of lack of material. Quite the opposite, really. Life has been pretty busy lately. I find myself living out of my car and other people's houses. I'm not complaining, though. Well, until I find myself with a night and nothing to do and then I don't know how to handle myself, haha. I think most people go through phases where they want to do a lot and be around people and then conversely go through a phase where they want a lot of alone time. Right now I want to be around everyone and do everything. So...that's what I've been doing-everything.

Love,
NotCarrie

I’m not Dead…yet

Okay, it's the holidays. You've filled up on turkey and you're blazing your way through the mall, and while all of this is going on the ladies of No Sex are taking it easy and leaving you hanging…okay not really, but I'll speak for myself. I've been dealing with a few health issues and they've made me less than inclined to post about anything, least of all my sex life that isn't so sexy right now. So a few more weeks and I'm getting back in the saddle, so to speak.

But before that, I want to talk about death. Pretty somber topic for a blog with pink as the main color. It's just that recently, I've been seeing more and more things in pop culture that point to death and dying or more importantly, what to do before you die. Places to see, things to do, meals to have; there seem to be endless lists upon lists and now there are even movies about it.

What's wrong with living in the now? Why do we need to think about being dead before we even contemplate what we could be doing while living?

All Knickered Up With No Where To Go

So when I got ready today I thought to myself, "Hey, you're going out tonight-wear the hott new knickers!" because that's how I roll-I save the cute ones for when someone might see them. And now it's almost 9pm and plans to go out got postponed so I'm sitting here at home, wrapping Christmas gifts wearing my cute, new knickers. (With clothes over them, of course. I am not sitting around in just my knickers. Um, no.)

Just kidding about someone seeing them, though, but why waste the fun ones for sitting at home?

Well Behaved Women Seldom Make History…

In 2008…I'm going to be a bad bad woman…

Discuss Amongst Yourselves

"Having regular orgasms is as important to your health as flossing your teeth."

~Devra Lee Davis, PhD., Center for Environmental Oncology at the Universty of Pittsburgh Cancer Institute. Taken from Self Magazine.

Back at the old den of sin...

Friday night, post-sushi making adventure with NotCarrie, found me needing male attention. Packing up a couple of supplies, I headed to NotCharlotte’s where I knew game night, wine and a certain someone would provide me with the distraction I needed for a few hours. I was not disappointed. I’ll skip the part about actually having fun playing games and drinking wine. Let’s face it…we’re all here for what happened next.

Around 3 am, I looked up and realized that everyone else was gone save NotCharlotte and NotHarry and myself and NotBeast. We were all a little tipsy, and as the evening had progressed, NotBeast and I had been making minor suggestive comments back and forth. I’m not sure if I was purposefully testing the waters, but when we were all outside chatting I leaned back, saying I was cold and he was so warm. I think after he slipped his arm around my waist I knew things were going to get interesting.

As we settled onto the couch and NotCharlotte and NotHarry settled on the floor, someone hit the lights. I felt like a kid in high school trying to fool around and not get caught by my parents. Eventually they moved to the back part of the basement to go to sleep, and I felt a bit more *ahem* free.

Since I’m not penning a romance novel here, I will spare you most of the details, but I have to tell you about my nipple. I just can’t not. Something like this has never happened before. NotBeast is a guy’s guy, and I like aggressive men. The next morning I woke up, and my left nipple was really sore. Really, really sore. As I was showering I noticed skin was missing and was reminded of this all throughout the day as I would get shots of pain when moving wrong. Less than 24 hours later and my nipple had actually scabbed. Scabbed! I like aggressive, but this has never happened before. Ever.

I’m intrigued…horrified…and am trying to figure out how he’ll have to repay me ;-)

Sleep Face

I can't breathe. No, really. If I ever get kidnapped and they put duct tape over my mouth, I am going to pass out and/or die. As a result, I sometimes snore, too. I like to think it's endearing, but to a light sleeper, it might not be. In addition to that, I do not have one of those pleasant 'sleep faces' as I call them. Some people, when they sleep, look just like they do when awake. They look peaceful, and calm, and not weird at all. I, on the other hand, feel like I look like...well, let's not get descriptive. Usually when I sleep in the midst of another person, I sleep very lightly so as not to fall into this unattractive* state I have. Sometimes, though, a girl is tired (and/or drunk) and light sleeping is just not an option. I know my Sleep Face is not going to be a deal breaker or anything, but at some point, I'm going to fall asleep first, and on my back or something, and then all bets will be off. Like I said, I hope it's endearing.

ZZZZZZZZZZZ

P.S. And just to clarify, I don't look like Satan after a long night or anything. Heavens no! I just look like I'm sleeping.


P.P.S. I can only speak for myself, but I'm probably not going to talk through differences on this blog. If they were blog related, then maybe, but there's really no point on so many levels.


*Relatively unattractive. I could never really be so;)

Invasion of the bodysnatchers

I disappeared. Not because I was afraid. It wasn't even intentional. I was angry...intensely angry at this blog being used to forward any personal agendas and the incomplete truths being told by multiple parties on here. I was all set to blow the whole thing wide open with the "complete" truth, but then I got lazy. I didn't know how to phrase what I wanted to say. And then a busy work schedule became my excuse. Eventually this all eroded into the fact that I lost all desire to remember...to make things worse. I knew that nothing I could write would help what was going on in our lives.

The truth of the matter is (as I'm sure you've garnered by now) that all is not well in Denmark. Some of the girls aren't getting along and haven't really been for a long, long time. I talk to everyone and am left with burden of navigating all sides. This isn't easy or ideal; most of the time it's simply painful. Conversations can turn into emotional russian roulette. I even began campaigning everyone individually to end this blog because I felt the spirit in which it was created was long gone.

I lost and here we are. Tepid, but I promised I would give it another go.

Day Of The Dead

Okay, so I didn't do much to celebrate Day of the Dead, but in my defense I was left pretty tired from my Halloween celebrations last night. I'm proud of myself for resisting the trend of dressing like a skanky ho and spent my day as a gypsy and my evening as death. I mean, I was still hott as both, but in a more every day way as opposed to a short skirt and clevage way.

So how were your Halloweens? Any good stories?

What if Marriage isn’t the Goal?

While NotCharlotte has moved on, I'm still here and this is still the No Sex and the City blog. So I bid her farewell in this blogosphere, but I know I'll see her in others. There my hat is tipped…now on to the post.

 

At 28 years old I've come to the conclusion that while marriage is something I want it's not the goal. So while driving to Maryland to be scared to death, NotASong, NotADot and I confronted a fear of a different sort. I have many things I want to achieve in this go round of life, but the longer I'm single the more I realize that marriage isn't one of them. I want to be in a committed relationship, sure, but I don't consider getting married as the end of the road for me, or even the beginning. So, what if the goal is something else besides the societal norm? What if you're breaking away from tradition and saying that is not what I'm reaching for, but if I get there then fine, if not then, that's fine too. Anyone else for shattering the goal of marriage with me?

 

My goal – to own my very own specialized bookstore/tea and coffee shop. That's it no frills, no thrills, just coffee, tea or me with books.

Take What You Take

Gossip. It's something we all crave. For some, it's a way to feel wanted, like you're part of an inside group. For others, it's a power move. They use information to hurt, gain access, to shock the people it's about. It doesn't help that in our society, we have shows like Gossip Girl and Access Hollywood to fuel our fire. Come Wednesday night, I'm sitting in front of the television, waiting to see what B will to do S, and vice versa. I then start thanking my lucky stars that I don't have friends or situations that vindictive and hurtful. Then I read past posts and comments on this blog.

At the beginning, the four of us set out to anonymously entertain whoever wanted to read with the trials and tribulations of being single in the District. We sat around the table at the diner across the street from the bookstore we all worked and figured out which name would go with what person. We chuckled at the thought of channeling our favorite SATC characters as people ate up our stories like we were eating our cheese fries. "I wonder who will read it?" We pondered.

As things progressed, our friendships waxed and waned. The closeknit community of bookstore compatriots started to fail and cliques grew. The grapevine started to climb and along with it, our stories became more intriguing and detailed. We learned the hard way who to trust and who we should keep a safe distance from. Characters started to develop and we became fully committed to creating for our readers something worth a perusal.

Then people from work started reading this blog. I don't think any of us knew right away, but it became unsettling. I started to become paranoid that people knew things about me and I didn't know who exactly it was. This dissapated after I quit working at the bookstore, after I stopped hanging out with most people from there. I forgot about it and continued living my life and as it happened, giving you guys my honest opinion on my life.

Recently though, it came back. Anonymous comments stung through our posts and I began to narrow down the people I knew had been reading.
It was our fault, once you put something on the internet, it's free domain. Anyone can read. Hell, past me wouldn't give a shit who read, it meant more hits, more people reading something I took the time to write. I mean come on, we wanted people to read.

Then I started to think about what I was writing lately. About NotHarry. Considering he was married to one of the people that hangs out with the people I know read this blog, I started to feel like it was an invasion of my privacy. I know, my fault again. I used this blog as therapy. I wrote what I thought would make things good. When I wrote things out it was confirmation that I was happy. To think that people read this and discuss and write comments on something that I hold close to my heart makes me very frustrated and somewhat angry. I'm angry that people have the nerve to take apart something that makes me so happy and I'm frustrated that I don't feel I can defend myself because, well, this is supposed to be anonymous.

So with these recent developments and with a lot of thinking, I've decided to stop writing as NotCharlotte. I'm giving up this blog. I just can't do it anymore. I've shared for almost four years every single date, every single fuck up, every single emotion that I've felt with regard to boys, men, and relationships in general. I just can't do it anymore.

I can't speak for the other girls, it's up to them what they decide to do with this forum. I just know that I can't continue sharing my secrets when I know they're being read by people I wouldn't share with in real life.

I'm going to miss it though, I would look forward to comments from our regular readers. I got excited when a new person would read our blog and comment so favorably on what grew from four girls shooting the shit to a full blown commitment of our time and experiences.


I invite you to continue writing your thoughts and opinions to me, I can be reached at pinkisneat@gmail.com.

I think going west may be in my future…

Anthony Bourdain described the Pacific Northwest in one word…"Obsession." If there were ever one word to describe yours truly this would be it. I think the love of my life is waiting for me there as well. So, here's my send off NoVA. In three more years (if I can wait that long), I'm going to be west coast bound. And I'll be bringing it to you live from some Seattle coffee shop, or who knows, I might be opening my own dream store.

An "I Need A Hug" Day

It can be difficult when, after getting used to physical contact, you go a day without any. And I'm just talking hugs here. I could have used one today. My day just went on too long and began in a hurry that set me on edge for the rest of the day.

Spooning is for Lovers

I really don't understand how I can sleep by myself, when I've got the most perfect spoon partner just a few miles away.
It's so hard to rip myself from the comforts of NotHarry's bed that I find myself making excuses as to why I can go home just a little bit later. The only reason I left tonight is because I'm doing an event in Arlington tomorrow that requires me to be up at 8am and work from 10am until midnight.
Sleep is required for me to not kill someone tomorrow.


The way things are going though, I don't think i'll have to sleep by myself for much longer.

Flirting

As I was sitting in the world's worst traffic yesterday (seriously, traffic at 730pm? Why.) I had the following thought:

If I am going to have a boyfriend*, does that mean I have to stop flirting?

And honestly, I was a little distraught about the thought. Flirting is almost second nature to me. It's fun. I enjoy it. I do it...a lot. I don't think I could ever just not do it. The thing is, though, that I don't follow up my flirting with propositions or anything so I think I should be okay continuing the habit. Maybe to a lesser degree, of course. I don't want to be thatgirl.

And yeah, I know the whole, "if you're happy with your guy/girl then you won't be looking elsewhere," but that's not the problem. Like I said, it's not like I am out there propositioning people, I just like to be charming. I almost can't help it;)




*Do NOT jump the gun, please. I said "IF".

The Distinguished Gentlewoman…

Is there such a thing as the Distinguished Gentlewoman?

While talking with NotASong we pondered this question. Men as they get older get 'distinguished,' women on the other hand just get old or if they're so inclined they get Botox. But men age and like fine wine they get better with age.

Just to put things in perspective here. I'm only 28, but I don't like the idea of when I get old, then that's it. I don't like not having society even giving me the option of being a distinguished gentlewoman. While I'm sure some love the idea of aging gracefully and easing their way into the golden years…I've always been more of a live young, die hard leave a good smelling corpse, just without the dying part. I love to party hard (when I can tear myself away from my two computers, that is), and I love the idea of getting older. But I want to have that same sense of classiness that men seem to acquire when they cross over the 50 year mark.

Did women somehow miss out on this? I mean currently, amongst the magazines, books and just about all kinds of media there seems to be a focus on being younger, appearing younger, and stopping the aging process all together. There are even entire magazines devoted strictly to the latest in plastic surgery. The newest creams, potions and brews, can take away your wrinkles, make your smile brighter and offer you the appearance of a younger you. What's wrong with a wrinkle or two or having your hair finally go grey?

I'm fed up with being told that I need to look young for as long as I can because when I finally look my age no one else will want me. Dammit, I want my wrinkles and my years to show; proof positive that I'm old enough to know what I'm doing and know that I'm doing it right. Distinguished Gentlewoman…bah!

You Turn Me On, I'm A Radio

The past few weeks have been a blur. I recently got a huge promotion at work and it seems that along with the summer, my free time has blown away like the last whisps of humid air that burdened the DC area. I'm happy for both to be gone, to be quite honest.
I've been spending most of my time with NotHarry, with a few visits here and there with NotMiranda, NotPhotographer, and myriad other favorites.
Things are going well. It's been so long since I've had a guy in my life that I want to be with all the time. My parents like him, all of my friends like him, which is awesome. I think it's so important for my friends to like and get along with whoever I end up with.

However, like any blossoming couple, we have our problems. One of my pet peeves with him is that he doesn't commit to things until the last minute. This doesn't drive me crazy all the time, but if it's for something that I consider important, I think I have a right to be a bit perturbed. He's done it twice and both times he ended up going camping instead.
I have chalked it up to the fact that he just doesn't want to tell me no.

So over the weekend we were discussing things and he notified me that Halo 3 was coming out on Tuesday (at midnight to be exact) and that he probably wouldn't spend much time with me over the week, unless I came over and played Wii in the other room. I said that was cool, I had plans formulating anyway.
Cut to this afternoon. He invited me over to watch Heroes and I declined, blaming high gas prices and payday not being until Tuesday (to pay for said high gas prices).
He said "okay, cool. we can do something tomorrow."
"Oh really? what about your silly game?" I asked. "I'm going out to dinner with some friends and was going to invite you, but you told me you'd be busy."
"I'm sure I'll want to take a break. Does the offer still stand?"

This amuses me, simply because it made me realize that he truly doesn't mean to be non-committal. This just means he's a typical guy.


So he's going to dinner with my friends and I tomorrow.


Little does he know it's dinner and salsa dancing lessons...

Burn the Floor…

I love a good dance movie. So when NotMiranda and I got together a two weeks ago this is what we did. Now, I'm the first to say that the remake of "Shall We Dance" isn't high art, but the dance scene between Richard Gere and the former JLo is a thing of beauty. And when I see something come together as well as those two did for that Tango I know that this is the dance for me. And given my current dateless status it gives me one more thing to compare men and women in relationships. But above all else...

This was hot, this was probably the hottest thing I've ever seen...now, how to get some for myself...

And in case you're wondering what music inspired this post...

Bubble World

I am taking a class where my teacher often tells us to enter her "Bubble World", where things go how she needs them to and what we're learning can be easily applied. It's easy for me to go to Bubble World since I am pretty sure it is next door to Daydream World, where I spend much of my time.

Bubble World is where things go just how they should, no one is tired, no one is in a bad mood, and things go according to plan. Since I know Bubble World would get boring if a constant thing, I would instead like to have a button to push where, when things get kind of crappy, I can leave reality and be in Bubble World.

Scenario 1:

My boyfriend and I get in a fight where unkind words are said.

*BUBBLE WORLD BUTTON PUSHED*

Boyfriend shows up holding boombox above head playing a song he knows will mean something. (and no, not "In Your Eyes".)

Scenario 2:

I go out while on vacation and meet the guy of my dreams, but realize I am leaving the next day.

*BUBBLE WORLD BUTTON PUSHED*

Amazing guy tells me he just got transfered to DC and needs someone to show him the city.

Scenario 3:

Am having wonderful evening with guy and realize I have to get up early the next day.

*BUBBLE WORLD BUTTON PUSHED*

Time stops. Also, there are stars. And it's chilly. Bubble World is awesome.

I heard it through the grapevine...

I found out last week that NotSkippy had just proposed two weeks previous to NotIttyBittyTitty.

Not exactly sure how or what I feel about that...so for now we'll go with indescribable.

When The Sun Rises

And what was maybe the best response to "Please stay" at 6am:


"But I'm a classy lady and I have to be home before the sun rises."


Of course, while smiling demurely...

Stars Are Blind

Sometimes my "Daily Romantic Horoscope For Singles" email can really piss me off. Astrology is for fun, right? I just like to read them and be completely girly and get excited about the possibilities. Tonight, though, not only did it come at the most inopportune time, but it's message sucked:

You're a real free spirit now, full of out-there ideas and electric energy. You're likely loving life and your independent status, if the stars have their say -- but, of course, this makes you ever more alluring, too.

I guess it does explain why I had a creepy stalker at work tonight and more than one guy gave me a double take, but is it telling me what I really want to hear? No, it sure isn't.

And I know what your first question will be: What does she really want to hear?? Well, to give you a hint...I really would be okay with cancelling my subscription to the Daily Romantic Horoscope for Singles...

Feel It All

I'm still trying to get over the fact that NotHarry has liked me for three years. I don't ever remember having a fondness for someone so long... well except for Matt Damon. Recently, we've been inseperable. This week has been really trying for me both mentally and physically, and he has been my rock.
I spent most of the weekend at the vet with my ailing dog and soon NotHarry would stop asking if I wanted him to be there and just take off work early and show up at my house 30 minutes before the appointment.
He was there when the vet told us the bad news and he was also there to talk to my mom on the phone and tell her the bad news because I was too choked up.
He was there when my family made the decision to put my dog to sleep.
He was there to keep my spirits up and kept me busy for the remainder of the week when I was too upset to go to work.

It's so weird that the second I stop looking for someone, it happens. He comes out of the woodwork and all of a sudden, I'm content and pleased and everything's running so smoothly.

My parents like him too, which is a HUGE thing. Usually, my dad just makes nicknames up for all of my guy friends and makes fun of them mercilessly. Instead, at dinner they talk about Germany and animals and history and dad tells me that we need to "fatten him up" and that "he seems to really fit in with you." My mom already wants him to meet our family in Wisconsin. It's so surreal.

A Picture Speaks A Thousand Words

I randomly saw a picture last night of this guy I used to be completely enamored with and even made out with on many, many occasions. Le me tell you, he is looking goooood! So good in fact, that I initiated some contact and would absolutely meet up with him even though it has been years now since we've hung out.

Are You Dating?

I have had no fewer than three people ask me in the past few days if I am dating NotGraceful. What, a guy and girl can't just be friends these days? I guess not since our amount of time spent together has increased and we've even been seen out together on the town. So scandalous!

But the thing is, if we were dating, would I answer in the affirmative to the inquisitors? Is it any of their business? Say we were dating. It would be really new right now, right? I don't think I would want everyone all up in our business. I don't want to start the gossip trains a goin'. (And believe me, they are out there. Just waiting for news.) Yeah, I'd be excited and happy, but renting out a billboard to declare the news is so not something I would do.

And that's the other thing. I loathe putting labels on things like this. I vomited every single time in high school when two people would be described as "talking." What does that even mean? It is ridiculous. And so what is the next step, dating? But at what point do two people become boyfriend/girlfriend? After how many dates are two people exclusive? It all just becomes increasingly confusing and obnoxious, yet it's annoyingly necessary. At a certain point, and especially if el sexo is involved, I want to know where we stand, but I seriously dread the "What are we?" conversation.

Unintended

"How long have you liked me?"
"For a long, long time."
"How long?"
"A long time."
"I didn't know you liked me until you 'put the moves' on me."
"You mean when I asked you for coffee?"
"That was a long time ago! Like February! You've liked me since February?"
"I've liked you a lot longer than that."
"How long?"
"I liked you when I first met you, three years ago. You were always so different. So funny and entertaining. I would look forward to our parties because it meant that I would get to see you."
"Really? Wow, I never knew."
"Well, it's not like I could have done anything about it... I mean, I WAS married."
"True."

I have found myself in the most unconventionally awesome relationship, ever. Don't worry, he's been divorced from his wife since September. We just started dating about 3 weeks ago. That conversation above took place last night. I love taking things slow... and goodness knows he does too.

There's plenty more to this story, but I'm tired and kind of want to make my posts worth it to you guys :-)

Trying To Tell Me Something?

I was just digging around in the bottom of my bag for a pen and what do I find? A CONDOM! What the hell? (And no, not used. Do you think I would be blogging about a used condom in my bag? If that had happened I would have 1) Wondered if I had been drugged and 2) Shower at the thought of some random jizz being in my bag.)


So from where did the condom come? Is it a sign from God to have el sexo? NotMiranda said she didn't put it in there so I'm going to ask NotGraceful, although that would be so weird if he had. Wouldn't it have been more appropriate to actually have it when needed?

Mystery condom, mystery condom, from where did you come?

Parking in the rear...

I love that men magazines try to be about super manly things, but in the end still sound (look and feel) like the ladies mags.

However, there was one article that I was reading in Details this month, that was something I would never expect to find in a woman's mag. They were talking about anal sex.

*listens a feet scramble to leave blog*

Surprisingly, its not something I've thought about having myself. I've read about it plenty, but honestly never seriously given thought about doing it. But now that I've read this article and when I rethink what I have read about it, I've begun to wonder if it would be worth it.

In small anecdotes the article mentions how both men and women are turned on by the activity, but that for some the psychological issues for one of the guys in the article proved to be too much and he discontinued the activity, despite the fact that his girlfriend enjoyed it more than vaginal sex.

This is where I saw the breakdown for how men think about sex and how women seem to think about sex (at least with the information given in the article). The few guys mentioned were more concerned with the body's non-sexual reaction than the women and for them it seemed to be more about reclaiming dominance. But I'm wondering if the article explored everything (and not that I expected it to do so), but it would have nice if it would have gone into more detail than the 2 pages (with a glaringly obvious picture taking up 3/4 of one page) allowed.

Hmmm...maybe the next encounter I have will be rear parking only. For scientific (cough sexual cough) reasons only, of course.

DSL

We're not talking high-speed internet here, people. Say it with me: Dick Sucking Lips. Crude, yes, but apparently I have them as was told to me by two guy friends whom I have known forever*. I feel like I've won a superlative or something.

Thank you, thank you! I couldn't have done it without really good genes and some nice lipgloss!


But what does one do with such a feature? Oh wait, that! Not tonight, though. Tonight was more about stopping things before they went too far. I think it was a good thing there wasn't a drop of alcohol in sight.




*And have never bing bonged. I've only kissed these two guys. Nothing more.

Live free...

Earlier today I told NotMiranda that I had a funny feeling in my gut about my current guy situation. I thought it was because I thought it was going to turn into just a hook up thing. I was also afraid that it was going to go nowhere and the friendship I had with the person in mind would be lost.

After talking with this specific person (notname TBD), I realized that the funny feeling in my gut was because I think it's turning into something more complex than I'm prepared to handle.

It all started with the butterflies I felt in my stomach when he kissed me last night.


More later, I need time to think.

Blast From The Past

I am 90% sure I saw NotRoger in the truck next to me the other night as I returned from an out-of-town trip. Unfortunately, the moment was fleeting and I hesitated when given the chance to take the same road he was. It seemed a bit too stalkerish to change my route in order to confirm who I had seen, but I instantly regretted it since the change in direction was still an option for my way home. I think what stopped me was the fact that my car is not exactly incognito and I also didn't know what I would say or do if I did see him get out somewhere. "Hey, I followed you! How have you been!?" Yeah, no.

Very interesting, though.

Beer. The Love Catalyst

What, two beers in and all I want to do is makeout with someone? TWO BEERS? What the hell is wrong with me;)? It is unfortunate that I need to actually get some sleep tonight, haha.

Beauty + Money = Empty Beds or Why the Rich and Famous will get none of my sympathy

I'm not usually one to read tabloids. In fact I try to keep as far away from them as possible. However, I couldn't help but notice the glaring cover of last weeks (this weeks, however the hell the date the damn things), US Weekly magazine, that boldly proclaimed that there was some reason why the rich, famous and beautiful were lonely and unloved.

*keys up tinny violin music*

The cover splash had pictures of NotANoseJob, NotADyeJob and NotABoobJob (you decide who belongs with which), and declared for all and sundry that if the rich and famous can't find love than what hope is there for the rest of us. Thanks US Weekly for making the other 90% of the population take a flying leap of the nearest relationship cliff.

I refuse to sympathize with movie stars who can't find love. I'm having a hard enough time finding sympathy for my own poorly managed love life, thank you very much. However, for the sake of being fair (though lord knows that article was already slanted), I paged through the piece to see exactly why the rich, overwhelmed by paparazzi should even deign to get any pity from me because their love life matches my own.

And discovering that like most rich and famous they want to be catered to. There is even a psychiatrist to analyze this behavior. I'm sorry, but having a shrink declare in so many words that a movie star is high maintenance doesn't win them any brownie points in my book. Saying that they're unlucky in love because no man is willing to step up to the plate just further vilifies the men in Hollywood (grow some balls guys).

I've written posts on men not understanding women because they're not sure where their societal role is anymore, or women who overcompensate for the men in their relationship because the typical masculine role isn't being played out in its stereotyped fashion. And at this point I feel like throwing in the towel.

To be honest, the movie stars won't get any sympathy from me because they represent the ideal in this very shallow society we live in. They're beautiful, they have money and they're available. So what's stopping them from being in a relationship? A combo of themselves and the people they want to be with. They're the ideal, but they don't want to believe that someone can want them for just themselves, likewise for the guy approaching them, he doesn't believe he can live up to their standards. For someone like yours truly, who is your average American female I really don't need to see that even being super beautiful, having money and power of your own to boot will exclude you from getting a date, keeping a boyfriend, let alone getting married.

I'd like to believe that I've still got a chance...of course I also believe that its okay to wear white shoes after Labor Day.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. When are we going to stop jockeying for the top dog position and just be a man and a woman trying to fit together in a relationship? Besides if we leave it to the movie stars to show us the way, we'll never get a date, a shag, a marriage or a kid (if you're so inclined), without needing someone else to reassure us that we're fine as we are and we can do bad together or by ourselves.

Let's Call It Off

A few days ago, I went on the worst date of my entire dating career.

This guy had promise. We hit it off on the phone/text/email and I didn't wait too long before wanting to meet him in person.
We're both lacking in funds, so I suggested a walk around my favorite museum, the Hirshhorn. He agreed enthusiastically and I had hope.

To me, museum walking is one of my ways to test the water. If the guy I'm with isn't interested in museum stuff, he's dead to me.

The following is a pretty detailed account of our afternoon in DC:

1pm- I arrive at the metro station, where we are supposed to meet. I receive a text message from the guy saying he was running 20 minutes late. I text him back saying I'll meet him in a building because it's ass hot. He replies "ok, meet me at the crypt." This automatically sends mini terror spasms down my back and I should have just left then. Instead, I made him clarify and discovered he meant the Smithsonian castle.
120pm- I am sitting inside the castle after walking around the mini exhibits inside. He's still not there and I still hadn't heard from him.
1:29pm- get a text from him saying he's still running late, so I decide to call my friend, NotMetal and talk to her for awhile. She cheers me up and we talk about scrambled eggs and Chuck Klosterman.
1:40pm-He finally shows up. Walks up to me outside the castle wearing cheapy reflector sunglasses, a beat up sports team t-shirt, khaki shorts, and sneakers. He looks nothing like I thought he would. (Which is my fault, I know I know)
1:41-1:43pm- En route to the Hirshhorn, he proceeds to point out the fact that I'm dressed all wrong for museum walking, judging by the flip flops, jeans, and black shirt I am wearing. This does not stop him from peering down my low cut shirt nor complaining about it being so hot outside.
1:44-2:something- We get to the Hirshhorn. He insists on walking through the same little section of the spinning door as I do, prompting the security guard to chastize him by saying, "Now, I wouldn't want to leave her side either, but it's one at a time" and prompting him in turn to not his head and guffaw like a redneck. We then go downstairs, where I know the cool tv exhibit is. We entered Black Box and proceeded to watch the carefully crafted videos. It's pretty awesome, especially the video with the Yeti. I look over at one point and he goes "wow, we need to take some E and come back to watch this." I kind of laugh and he goes "no, seriously, i should go find some." I shake my head and ignore him. After the first video, the people sitting to my left get up and move and in the dark, I see an older lady come in, so I offer to move over so she can find a seat closer to the door. I get up and move and try to tell the guy that we should move and he just looks at me, then gives a dirty look to the old lady and finally moves to where I am. Yeah, a dirty look. I sigh and leave the room.
The rest of the Hirshhorn visit was filled with lewd comments about boobs and other genetalia, including him asking me if seeing an artful photograph of a man's penis "turned me on."
2:30ish-the bane of my existence- At this point I tried to make excuses to leave, but he told me that I needed to just go with him to the Native American Museum to check out the guns.
I.love.guns. So I figured I could tune him out long enough to see me some guns, then leave.
Little did I know that he was saving some "big guns" of his own to show me at the museum. He really impressed me with the way he shoved people with kids out of the way to get on the elevator first and how he took his paper fan and quite rudely shoved air in my face while at the same time leering down my shirt again, oh and don't forget my favorite part when I was taking pictures of the coolest exhibit there (i HATE the native american museum, it sucks. I'm not talking content-wise, some of the artwork is amazing, but the design of the museum is awful and they sure as hell didn't have much to show for years and years of history), the Day of the Dead stuff, when a tour guide and her company came up and the lady started talking loudly through a headset/microphone. This set my date off and he started complaining loudly about how rude it was that the lady was being so loud. He sounded like a little kid!!!

After this I practically ran to the metro. Along the way we passed a guy selling water for $1, of which guyiwaswith gulped down as though I wasn't even there, then we passed two guys calmly passing out information about their religion, which pissed guyface off so much he started yelling at them. We got on the metro and I was silent the entire time. We got to his stop, I half waved, and he got off.
Leaving all of his garbage on the seat next to me.

I haven't talked to him since and I've actually decided I'm pretty happy being single right now. It may be a few more weeks before I get back on the horse, well, at least until I take a guy to a museum anyway...

Summer Love

I blame Justin Timberlake, but I am itching for a summer love. With August quickly approaching and fall soon to be on the horizon, I want to pause these summer months so I can head to the beach, put on a short skirt and some flip flips and dance until the sun comes up at an outdoor party. I want to lounge on the sand until my boredom gets the best of me and I join in on a casual game of touch football. I want to drink margaritas with cute straws and umbrella decorations. I really want to doze while laying on a boat rocking on the sea.

Oh, but wait. I hate summer, don't I? I hate to be hot and living in Virginia sort of is a promise of being hot from May until the end of September. I haven't even been to the beach yet this summer season so I am not apt to wish for more heat, I just want it to be fall already! I don't feel like summer is prime time for me to find some lovin'. Summer sucks unless one is on vacation, in my opinion. Otherwise, it just makes the everyday more uncomfortable. How am I supposed to look hott when it's too humid to straighten my hair and my eyeliner melts off my face? Cold weather months are much better for finding love, in my opinion. I think Mr. JT needs to write the song, "Winter Love," an instant hit with NotCarrie!

Missed Connections

In order to properly celebrate NotDarling’s birthday, the chicas and I crammed into a car and headed into DC on Friday to spend the evening declaring our favorite things about our birthday boy and buying him (and us) some super strong drinks.

Tryst was way less crowded than the last time I remember, but it worked out well for getting drinks and checking out the crowd. Sometime in the night we decided that we wanted to have some “Missed Connections” and from then on kept our eyes peeled for worthy recipients while at the same time positioning ourselves to be missed as well.

Checking online the next day quickly revealed that we had not had any missed connections, unfortunately. Having celebrated the birthday boy’s day was much more important, but it would have been hysterical to see a message on Craigslist like, “Hott guy with four women. You single and/or a pimp?”

I usually forget to go to Craigslist, to be honest. I think it is because I know I will get addicted. I have posted one missed connection in the past for someone who comes to the second job frequently, but that’s the extent of my MC experience.

When I do think to go there and browse the missed connections, I find them to be a bit overwhelming so I have thought of a few things to keep in mind when writing your next one:

+The location MUST be on there. When I scan, I scan for where I have been, of course.

+Put your age. No one wants to reply to a skeevy 80 year old pervert. (Unless you’re an 80 year old pervert-lover.)

+Make the subject line very clear and eye catching. Either put the place or a defining physical feature of mine in there. Otherwise, my eyes will skim over it while reading.

+Don’t try to be too cute in the body of the message. If you sound weird, no one will respond.

+Do not sound like you stalked me and now know my bra size, third grade teacher’s name, and apartment number. Creepy!

Has anyone had a successful missed connection??

And by the way, this is our 666th post.

‘Youth is wasted on the young’

I love my morning radio show. So much so that I try to be late enough getting out the door so that I can sit in rush hour traffic (I’m a bit of an oddball I know) and listen to more of it. I particularly like it when they have discussions about relationships and dating. They always give me food for thought.

For example, this Monday, they were discussing marrying and breaking up and age. One of the morning sidekicks (I dub him), NotMetrosexual was saying how he had gone to a wedding during his vacation the past week with his girlfriend. It was her best friend (the groom) who was getting married. She lives in the area of the wedding (not in DC) and is on a contract that will be ending soon, and she mentioned that she would need to find a new contract, so that she’s not out of work. The conversation progressed to the point where NotMetrosexual asked his girlfriend to come and move in with him. It then moved even further with them both agreeing that they might be the one for each other. The next logical step would be happy hearts and shiny faces all around, right…wrong. At the end of the day this couple was no more. The reason, they thought they were too young and hadn’t sown enough wild oats.

They were too young and hadn’t sown enough wild oats.

Is it just me or does this sound a little defeatist. Talk about ending the relationship before it even starts. Because of what they thought would happen they decide to let it go completely.

The radio show continued with people calling in to give their opinions on the issue. One woman hit it on the head for me. “You have to work at it.”

I arrived at work and turned off the car along with the show and couldn’t help but think that ‘youth is wasted on the young.’ Just the idea of finding that person who may be for me right now gives me hope. But to listen to NotMetrosexual and his girlfriend piss it away because they haven’t banged enough partners is pretty sad.

The very idea that NotMetrosexual and his girlfriend didn’t think they could work through it l makes me equally angry and sad. Angry, because of the absolutely laziness of NotMetrosexual and his girlfriend and sad because this is what I feel a society of instant gratification has spawned.

No one wants to work at relationships anymore. If things don’t work out, it’s easier to just move on. I’m seeing it more and more in everyday things as well. Don’t like your job, no problem, you can find a new one tomorrow. Angry with your friends, don’t try and fix the problem just ignore it and them and it will all go away. Don’t want to parent your children, that’s easy just turn the tv on and instant babysitter.

While some of my examples are extreme, they have some merit. Those of the baby boomer generation (and earlier) worked through their issues (or at lease appeared to), they took responsibility for the mistakes they made and didn’t blame one another. Why aren’t we working through things? Why aren’t we taking responsibility for ourselves? Why is youth wasted on the young?

I don’t have many answers, but I know that if we don’t stop sowing our oats and keep the wheat on the chaff we will soon be a field of unfulfilled dreams.*

*how do you like that metaphor?

Feeling like the third, fifth and seventh wheel..

Saturday night I went out to help NotBeauty celebrate her 21st birthday.

Yep, that's right, your eyes did not deceive you. I helped someone celebrate their 21st birthday. Since its been seven years since my own, this was quite nostalgic for me. I dressed to semi-impress and with keys, cash and attitude in hand I headed out for NotBilliards.

And was completely thrown for a loop at the couplehood that was there.

NotASong and NotABarber
NotBeauty and NotBruceLee
NotANympho and NotMoney

and so on and so on and so on.

In short. I was the odd woman out, without a date that is. And before I let myself descend into my own one woman pity party, I considered the options.

I could:
1) Make my excuses and go home early.
2) Hit on someone's date (such a bad bday party faux pas)
3) Hit on some of the innocent bystanders
4) Drink enough to numb myself to the fact that I was at another party without my 'part' leaving me with 'y'.
5) Make the best of the situation by reveling with friends and the vowing to find someone to go to the next shindig where large groups would be in attendance.

My choice was a combo of 4 and 5. I got a pleasant buzz on and thought about what I would need to do to remedy my current dateless situation. Which is quite interesting as I don't like to go out much to any of the places where I could do a meet and greet with members of the opposite sex. I've decided to take a new method for jumping back into the dating pool. I'm going to hit up my already paired off friends for possible dating material amongst their single male friends.

*crosses fingers and prays she doesn't regret this later*

Starting Fresh*

* This thing will be taken over by asterisks if I try to explain and clarify everything. That said, if you question something-ask, but I'm not using the interweb to work through problems.

So, starting fresh.

Do I have a crush on anybody?

Ummm, yes and no. I definitely had a Friend Crush on NotGraceful when we first starting talking past formalities and found we had things in common and got along well. (If we're talking timelines, this would have been around the winter holidays when he started hanging out with our group more.) Do I flirt with him? Yes. Is my flirting with him different than my flirting with any of my other guys friends? No. Do I sit around and draw hearts around his pictures and wonder how his last name will fit with mine? No. Do I want him to want me? Of course I do. I want everyone to want me.

Who is the last person I kissed?

NotGraceful. Is it something I planned on? No. Do I hope it happens again? Yes, but like I said, I'm not sitting around thinking about him and hoping he calls and wondering if he wants my sass. I think we all know I went through quite the kissing drought so when there's the opportunity for 'rain', a girls gotta go for it. Especially when drunk. Bitch, please. When I say I want it to happen again, I just mean the kiss, he's just been in the right place at the right time recently. Whether or not he continues to be the last person I kissed remains to be told, but he is my friend, first and foremost, and that's not something I'm looking to change. My want/need to makeout is separate from my friendship with him. I do not have tunnel vision when it comes to kissing.

Now I remember why I stopped watching tv...

I gave up watching tv on the regular basis about 3 years ago. Between reality shows and the paparazzi vying for the attention of the latest starlet/studlet I couldn't be bothered to keep up. However, occasionally, when I'm held against my will and my eyes are held open with toothpicks I'm forced to watch it.

Like when I'm at the gym.

Five walls of television. Each with a 60 inch lcd tv, and on four of the five, some squalling celeb posturing for the cameras or some reality show making stars out of the next 'real' person.

This is what we call entertainment? Pardon me while I go run my head through the exercise bike.

Everybody cares, everybody understands

This site has been filled with so many half truths and incomplete stories for the past few months that I want to scream. I'm surprised any of you bother to read it any more. I know I barely do. Well, stay tuned party people. If my predictions come true, things will start to get a bit interesting here as truth comes out.

Subject Of Gossip? ME?!

On Monday, a friend at work, and one who is notorious for being up on and spreading the gossip, said to me, "So I heard NotGraceful gave you a ride home Saturday night!"

Ok, what? I am never the subject of gossip there either because people think (assume? know?) I'm boring or because for the longest time most people thought I was dating NotDarling. I was taken aback for a split second wondering how she had heard that and why anyone cared. Part of me wanted to insinuate a lot in my reply and either wink as I answered her in the negative or fake blush so she'd think the worst.

Instead I said, "Oh no, not a ride home." and went on with my work. While being the subject of gossip is slightly flattering, I think I'd rather just go on with everyone there thinking knowing that I'm just really boring.

Accidental Drunk

Same night, different story.

I know that when people say, "I didn't mean to get that drunk" eye rolling is usually involved and no one believes the speaker, but I promise you, I did not mean to get that drunk on Saturday night! I guess I hadn't eaten enough because one beer in and I was feeling it. So a few more later and I was good to go.

And to the dance floor I went when our group decided to migrate back inside to the bar area. Now, I like to dance, but I usually don't proposition random guys to join me on the dance floor. Saturday, though, I went up to a group of about seven guys and yelled over the music, "Why are you just standing here! There are women on the dance floor! Go dance!" I think they thought I was crazy, but it was their loss and I grabbed some random guy who was walking by and danced with him for one song.

At this point in the evening NotCharlotte and I had a bit of a flashback to my birthday in NYC when we met guys from the UK who later invited us back to their place. All the dancing had me pretty drunk so NotCharlotte can fill in any of these details if she wants, but it was fun talking to them even if I had to say "What?" after everything they said. I also remember yelling that I love Andy Murray and that Scotland is the best place there is. But I don't go home with strangers because when random guys (even if they do have hott accents) invite random girls over, they usually want one thing, and I am a classy lady... Okay, I'm not always a classy lady, but having el sexo with strangers isn't what I do. Safety first, right?

Anyway, after exchanging numbers with NotIrish and his buddies, it was last call and time to go. I had actually given NotGraceful a ride* to the bar, but I was a horrible, irresponsible DD so he had to give me a ride back to his house so I could sober up. We ended up having el sexo all night, which was pretty hott. I kid. I'm a kidder. There was no el sexo, but isn't that how you'd like the story to end?


*oooh, scandal!

Enough is Enough

I've had it with NotGraceful. You guys all know my problems in the past with him.
Last night, NotBigMouth invited us all out to a bar (one that's slowly becoming my favorite) and everything was fine and dandy until he showed up.
I decided to ignore him the entire time which, in hindsight, isn't the most mature way of handling things, however the only words I wished to exchange with him were ones that weren't too kind. Also, I didn't want everyone and their mother knowing my business.
It worked though, I didn't talk to him once over the course of the evening. That didn't stop him, however, from making condescending remarks towards me the entire night.
I sat there and realized that even if my friends wanted to hang out with him, I don't. I don't need that negativity in my life. He is the complete opposite of anyone I would want to hang out with, ever. He's pretentious about music, which is all he wants to talk about. He is constantly moody and when he tries to make funny comments, they fail. The only thing he's good at is getting drunk and acting like an idiot. Now that's funny.
I know this probably makes me a hypocrite, seeing as how I used to hook up with him, but I think that was before I knew better and had thought long and hard about this fucked up situation. It also helped to talk it through with a few people that weren't directly involved in this whole thing.
If people still want to hang out with him, then maybe they're not the kind of people that I should be hanging out with. From here on out, if he's going to be at a social event, I'm going to think long and hard before I go as well. I used to be of the mindset that I should have every right to go, even if the bastard's there, but now I just can't handle it. I've got too many good things going on in my life right now to have my good mood ruined by an unmotivated, uneducated, lazy asshole.

The Early Bird...

Note to self: Go to the NotCheers bar around 5pm on a Thursday evening, but not just to pick up your to go order. Getting hit on by cute men while you're simply paying for the opportunity to eat your salad in front of the tv during Top Chef is quite well worth it. Oh, and next time take them up on that offer for a drink. Best 3 bucks they'd ever spend ;-)


(Note to readers: I am not crazy, I didn't take them up on the offer because I had already made plans to sit in front of the tv with someone else... and believe me, it wasn't NotBaker.)

NotSamantha's not in right now, please leave your name, number and a brief message after the tone...

I've been unavailable as of late. On every front. Hell, I've even avoided the blog for what feels like forever.

I've been hiding out in my room.

Not going out, and the dating thing...dropped like a bad pickup line. Why? No clue. I just don't have the motivation to do much of anything. Okay, I take that back. I do have the motivation to do a few things, but not much. However, one of the problems with avoiding just about everyone is that I can't avoid myself.

And let me tell you this, being with myself is not all fun and games. Because the problem with spending time with myself, is that I'm also spending time with my mind, and as we all know, an idle mind is like idle hands, only worse. Which is how I came to jump onto the subject of marriage and me.

I've begun to realize that issues or not, I'm not exactly pleased with myself as a person, and I'm one of those, can't love anyone until I love me first people. Thus, dating and all variations thereof, had been moved to the back burner. Tonight, however, offered what I think was a step in the right direction.

I had dinner with one of my favorite couples, NotDippy and NotANinja where I kept reiterating this one statement:

"I'm only doing this marriage thing once."

Which is cause for even more intense introspection. What I mean is that in this day and age of instant gratification, is it possible to find that one person, so that you can only do the 'marriage thing' once?

I'm picky. And I've never hidden that fact, I have a list and standards that is a mile long, but outside of all that I think that in a relationship, you need to be able to work things out, no matter what the list says. The marriage statistics of today prove that either people aren't working it out, or an entire generation of Generation Xers have looked at the Baby Boomers and turned collective noses up at the very idea of staying married or rather staying married to one person for longer than 5 years. And don't give me that whole "times were different" spiel. I'm not denying that, but I am arguing that treating marriage like a game of Truth or Dare isn't necessarily ideal either. And then I look deeper within and try to figure out why I'm so keyed into marriage right now. I don't have a biological clock (and if I do, I've probably thrown it out of whack after my post on children), I'm not actively looking for a partner and I've got facts staring me in the face, that tell me that marriage isn't a sure thing after all.

And yet, I want to do it anyway.

So, talking with NotDippy and NotaNinja was helpful in discovering that yes things go screwy, yes, you sometimes want to walk away, and yes things (issues, facial ticks, pet peeves) can overwhelm, but they're not absolutes and can be worked out for the better of both people in the relationship. Key word here being 'work.' So while I work on me in the hopes of finding my special someone I wish everyone else well in their own search.

So maybe introspection is a good thing. Soul searching for a soul mate...withdrawal into the self to draw them to you...?

Wine Parties

My weekend was quiet, which was probably just what I needed. After an early work shift on Saturday, I headed with NotMiranda into the city to attend a party being thrown by her old boss. We showed up with a bottle of wine which turned out to be what about 80% of the crowd was drinking. Lately I've been a total beer girl so I pretty much just sipped on my glass while we mingled and chatted. We did the obligatory small talk with a few people and I listened in while NotMiranda did some work chatting, too. My favorite part was talking up the two hott guys who we saw while out back filling up our wine glasses. They must have already filled up their glasses a few times because the one, NotHandy totally worked the body language angle by putting his hand on the small of my back numerous times. It was probably a good thing that I was driving and not drinking more because it was so a move that was an invitation for me to respond with *eyes* and my own body language move of putting my hand on his forearm while talking. Not that my lack of drinking stopped me from working my charm in smaller amounts. Had we stayed longer and it not been something work related for NotMiranda, we totally could have worked that one over.

Still got it!

Baked

Last night, NotCurly and I went to a party. Our old bakery manager, NotBaker, was having a get together for all of the people that work there and when I visited the other day, he enthusiastically invited me.
Might I mention that NotBaker is fucking hot. Our mutual attraction of each other is apparent, though we've never actually said anything about it to each other. When we talk, it's a LOT of eye sex.
On Wednesday I called him at work to get his address and his voice couldn't hide his enthusiasm.
His final words before going back to his job? "I'm really looking forward to seeing you."
Booyah.

I immediately mapquested his address to find that I live literally 5 minutes away from him. FIVE minutes. As NotMiranda says, walking distance.

We show up to the party late, hoping that most are already drunk so we can start making fun of them. Our wish came true. The place was packed with people I had grown to know as either too nice, too annoying, or too lazy. It was almost too much to handle.
NotBaker ran up to greet us and I made my first move. I handed him a plate of my specialty cupcakes. Score one, NotCharlotte.

The night was fun. NotCurly and I did our traditional making fun of people and every so often (more often than not), NotBaker joined our exclusive group and regaled us with stories about people from work, as well as uber personal stories about himself. It was tmi, in a good way. At one point he invited us to see his room and of course we jumped at the chance to get a glimpse of star wars posters, an unmade bed, and dirty laundry. We go upstairs and... are completely shocked at not only the gigantic size of his bedroom, but of the pure organization and cleanliness of not only his room but his bathroom. Everything is in it's place, there isn't a poster in sight, just nicely framed pictures, a large stereo, and several family pictures. Next to his bed was a bookshelf filled with the various books that got him through culinary school.
Two seconds after we enter his room, however, two drunk girls come screaming in, yelling at him for not inviting them up. They both jump on his bed and immediately start extolling the virtues of his sheets. He is in the bathroom, so NotCurly and I decide to try out his bed ourselves.
I have to tell you, the second I slid my hand in between the sheets, I knew that I wanted to get him in them.
Finally, I have found a guy to be interested in that has something going for him. He's got his shit together.

Last night I didn't get really drunk. I didn't hit on NotBaker mercilessly. I did not make a fool out of myself by spilling drinks. I was charming, adorable, and slightly flirty. I made sure he knew I was interested and I think he felt the same.
At this point it's all speculation, but if this is going to work, it needs to happen slowly. Right before we departed for the evening, he made sure to get my number and a nice tight hug. He walked us to the door and goes "Do you guys really have to leave? I hate everyone else here."

I went to sleep after drunk texting random people. I woke up and in the middle of my morning internet surfing, received a text from NotBaker:
"Your cupcakes are awesome."

Cheeseburger In Paradise

I was in NotCheers again today. My sister and I met up for lunch and, of course, chose one of our favorite places to dine. About halfway through our meal we heard the familiar sound of clapping as about four waiters and waitresses came to a table near ours to sing Happy Birthday to a fellow patron. And who was in this small, intimate group of singers that was extremely close to our table? Oh yes, the waiter from the other night.

My sister and I both immediately turned out faces the other way and tried to hold back our laughter. Who would have thought we would ever see him during the day shift?! And I was so not ready for it, either. It was just an off moment and not one where I wanted to get my flirt on. So, we hid our faces and then made sure to get out of there before he could see and recognize us. I promise to not hide next time:)

Wait!

Apparently I now have a thing for waiters. Last night a few of us went to a restaurant we frequent and I sort of couldn't shut up about our waiter. We see him there all the time and while he's kinda goofy and, I think, young, I still wanted to go makeout with him in a corner. And then I realized that I have a mini-crush on another one of the guys who works there. So I need to watch my flirting there a little bit because I don't want to become "that girl."

A Romantic At Heart (And Hand)

So I realize that I'm either a prudeish old woman or misplaced from the 1930's, but handholding is maybe one of my favorite things to do. Despite my recent kissing drought, I have a list a mile long of guys I've kissed, but my list of guys I've held hands with? Noticebly shorter. Not that I'm surprised really, because never in my nights out have I made eyes with some hott guy only to go for his hand when the moment was right. Holding someone's hand is a different kind of intimacy from sucking face and generally not the result of too many jack and cokes. I am still completely in love with it and even more than kisses, I tend to remember hands making connections and fitting so well together.

*sigh*

Mistress

Last evening I attended one of the two weddings I've been invited to this summer. I made sure to look extra hot and for the first time in a long while, I felt 100% put together and ready to attract a potential mate.

I ended up taking one of my best friends, NotCurly, along with me. I figured she'd be a good wingman and besides, we always have a great time together. This time was no exception. The wedding was in Arlington, at a small church near Glebe Road. It was beautiful and everyone looked happy and gorgeous.
We then traveled to Springfield for the reception. NotCurly and I were some of the first to arrive, so we got a good seat at our table, backs to the wall. Perfect place to sit and be judgmental. Another bonus, it was 50 feet from the open bar.
Open.
Bar.
Yes. We were already on our second cranberry & vodka before everyone else sat at our table. On my right was my boo, on my left... a tall goateed gentleman. Within 5 minutes of talking, I discovered he was dating one of the bridesmaids, but somehow that didn't stop the both of us from flirting up a storm.
I knew that it would be a good night when ten minutes into our conversation, he says the following:
"wow, my drink isn't as strong as yours. I probably just didn't show enough cleavage."

It's like the bride and groom knew just who to sit us by. Over the course of the evening, NotCurly had 10 drinks, while I with my modest 7 tried my best to curb the craving for 3 more. Halfway through dinner, we had talked the guy into getting our drinks for us and at a certain point we were double parking, rum & coke on one side, our cranberry on the other.

Soon though, the flirting was over. The bridal party dispersed and for the first time in the evening, my flirtmate decided to go say hi to his girlfriend. She walked up to the table and immediately NotCurly goes "well, no WONDER he's been flirting with you, you've only got one chin!"
I'd tell you the rest of the comments my dear friend enlightened me with, but if that one quote is any indication, I think it's best I keep them to myself.
He and his girlfriend were talking to each other at the other side of the table to an older lady I had been friendly towards near the beginning (pre drink part) of the evening and I soon realized that his girlfriend's mother had been sitting across from me the entire time. As well as her sister.
No one had told me, and I'm sure that she heard everything that came out of our mouths to each other, as well as the steadfast glances McBoyfriend made towards my chest.

I realized last evening how much I love to shamelessly flirt and how I'm not sure if I'm ready to give up my single status because it's so fun. Besides, if I had been his girlfriend, I would NOT have been happy to look over and see my boyfriend flirting with the prettiest girl in the room. (;-))

Matchmaker, Matchmaker!

I'm being devious. Maybe work has gotten boring lately, but I've become a matchmaker of sorts. Although, to be honest, I don't have everyone's best interests at heart. If you will recall, we hung out with NotVeryMature a few weeks ago as she had recently begun at our job. Now, to explain a little bit, she has quite the crush on NotGraceful and she's, well, um, quite outspoken about it. To each their own, eh?

Enter in NotDarling;) He is not outspoken about anything. These two people do not match up in any way, shape, or form...yet I have become the devious matchmaker as I have been encouraging NotVM to flirt with him. Muhaha!

Now, don't judge me just yet because my plans help everyone:

-NotDarling gets flirted with, which will help to fine tune his ability to read flirting in other situations.
-NotGraceful gets left alone. This also helps us because we have to hear about the crush from her often.
-NotCarrie gets some entertainment.

And maybe, just maybe, something comes about from her flirting with him. She did say he was hott...


I'll let you know if anything happens!

Bar Tabs

Going to bars where one knows the bartender usually results in some hooking up, whether with extra strong drinks or cheaper tabs. Well, when I got my tab for $23 after almost four hours of drinking, I was beyond ecstatic for the hooking up that had ensued. Fast forward to the next day when NotGraceful and I realized that our tabs had gotten switched and he had unknowingly paid not only for a few of my drinks, but for the two I bought for him. Ooops! I was pretty d-runk, though, so it's okay.

Man, Friday was so much fun that we're still talking about it! The other day my one guy friend texted me, "Sorry we couldn't makeout. That's always the highlight of seeing you" (he has a girlfriend now) and then my other guy friend texted, "When are we partying again?" (hottest guy ever.)

Anyway, so continuing from some of what NotMiranda wrote about, here is what I was up to Friday night at the same bar. She is right about my random conversation about bra-size, but what she forgot to mention was my even more random conversation with NotShorty about numbers of orgasms and when a guy has done enough and can be selfish. I am not sure where this came from (Oh wait, maybe the shooter, jack and coke and jeger bomb.)

Once back at my house, where the others had a restroom pit stop, I did indeed lay down in my yard and order NotGraceful to steamroll me. I know what you're thinking- in your front yard?! It was the middle of the night, though, and I'm a slut, I guess. Because when I want to get steamrolled, I get it. NotGraceful must have been new to the act, though, because his skills were a bit awkward and I kept yelling out, "NotBear does it better!" and "Call NotBear! Get him over here!"

Oh, maybe you're wondering what steamrolling is. Well, any number of people lay down on their backs and take their pants off. No wait, kidding about the pants part. Pants stay on! Then one person (the steamroller) proceeds to roll across the people on the ground just like a steamroller would. It's a lot of fun. I promise. NotGraceful needs to work on it, though. He got an "A" for effort, but his execution was a "B-" at best.

I, unfortunately, wasn't there for the events that followed with NotCharlotte, NotMiranda, and NotGraceful as I was home asleep...or drunk emailing/texting/IMing...so my night ended with me asleep in my bed still wearing my jeans. I'll let one of the others continue their part of the story.

On why I love Fridays and friends

Ready to kick off a long weekend at our favorite bar, NotCarrie, NotCharlotte and I grabbed NotGraceful and headed down to Fredericksburg to meet up with a couple of NotCarrie’s other Not characters and imbibe in the ambiance of Spirits.

The stresses of the previous week melted away as we took advantage of $2 kamikazes and began sipping that first Jack & Coke. As is typical for Spirits, you stand around long enough and a random assortment of characters find their way to you. NotShorty (we’re talking 6’8’’ here, people) adopted our group early on. Finally, being the oldest in our group got me something as NotShorty swore he was at least 10 years older than everyone present. Shocked I was 31, I smiled as I took the drink as my prize.

Several drinks later, our flirt-o-meters were off the charts and the conversation (and night) took a turn for the interesting. Why don’t we do this “choose your own adventure” style? Which Friday night shenanigan do you want to read about?

- NotGraceful claimed you couldn’t get a hickie from biting, so I proved him wrong*.
- I turn around and NotCarrie had somehow wound up in a conversation that involved guessing what her cup size is.
- Me winding up tipsy enough to end up with my tongue in NotShorty’s mouth in the middle of the bar but not drunk enough to take him up on the ride home from his place the next morning.
- NotCarrie explaining to NotGraceful what steamrolling is in her front yard.
- Sticking my head out the window barreling down I-66 while kissing on the outside of the car.
- Losing both my flip flops and my cell phone as I attempted to ford a river.
- Strip poker until 5 am in the morning.

And that’s just my evening. Curious?


*Poor guy is still wearing a bandaid to work ; )

In The Stars

My new "thing" is obsessively checking my horoscope. It's not like I plan my day around it or even put too much truth behind it, but it's something trivial to do each day. Well, today's was total hottness:


Someone awfully appealing throws a little sweet talk your way. Go on and throw some right back. Not only will this lift your spirits, it just might open your heart. There's no harm in testing the waters, is there?

The only thing is, my daily astrology email JUST came and what good does that awesome horoscope do me at 11:52pm!? And the only person I can recall who sweet talked me was someone's younger brother and it was just awkward. ANd no, I did not throw any back.

I'll make up for it tomorrow, though. I need to test the waters.

Maybe How NOT To Get The Guy

I went to a bar last night that has karaoke to meet up with some college friends I don't get to see enough. We sat at a booth and after we all had a drink in our hands, we began to catch up and joke around. Until I hear this:

"NotVibrato, NotCarrie, and NotFlowers to the stage, please!" said to music that sounded frighteningy close to a song by Aqua.


Yes, Aqua.


Not one to ignore a call to stage, I dragged my friends up there to squeak our way through the song. "Barbie Girl"?! Seriously? I can't believe NotCharming secretly picked that for us. I don't even know the song, save for the chorus.

Anyway, we got through it, but it was not a pretty sight or sound. I'm fairly sure much of the bar was wishing for it to be over. I wanted to pick another song to redeem my street cred, but I figured it best just to let those few minutes on stage just fade into the night.

A Sign Of Times To Come

We finally had a gathering where the male to female ration was closer to 1:1!


HOOOORRAAYYYY!!!!!!


I was looking at pictures from Friday's party when I realized that in one of the group shots there are four females and....get this...FOUR MALES*! You may remember my recent complaint about the cooter fest that our social group has become. Well, I think this is a good sign of times to come.

*There were more than 8 people there. I'm just using one photographical representation of the evening for my highly scientific statistical research.

Cheer It On

I know we've been lacking in posts lately. I'd like to take much of the blame.
Yesterday, I graduated from NotHarvard. I have therefore deemed last Tuesday through this Sunday as my "Tribute to Alcoholism."
So far, so good. Tuesday night was a party at NotVeryMature's, wherein I got pretty drunk and went to work on 3 hours of sleep and a slight hangover. Wednesday night was Mexican food and margaritas, last night was NotCheers, three drinks, and bumming cigarettes off of tablefulls of cute guys. Tonight is a party being hosted by NotSamantha. I think this will be the culmination of all past nights and future jaunts into the world of drinking/flirting/making out with random guys. Tomorrow night we're headed to NotQuiteRichmond for cheap drinks and unique atmosphere. Past trips to this place have provided many a NotPost, so keep your fingers crossed.

So there's my excuse. If you're lucky, we'll all have something good to contribute come Sunday... after the Motrin kicks in.

Lights Out

The other day at work the power went out. I guess some Transformer* blew up so for almost four hours we were without power. I was offered the option of going home, but this girl needs all the money she can make! I also figured we would get to slack for those four hours and do nothing. Silly me! The same thing happened a couple of years ago and we all just sat near the windows and read or did whatever we wanted so I just assumed we would get to do that this time. After gathering near the windows, I got my group together and said to sit on the floor in a circle for games. Then I went to grab paper and a pen so we could play a good ol' game of MASH. Nevermind that I acted like a 12 year old-I was definitely the most fun one there:)

Anyway, the fun didn't last for long, because those in charge had the audacity to tell us to get back to work. I gave my appropriate amount of attitude and then set off to get some stuff done. First, though, I headed to the breakroom with one of my favorite coworkers, NotRad, to grab our cell phones. Well, it was pitch black dark and kind of scary, but before I could even think about the zombies that could be hiding back there, I had another thought:

"Hey, NotRad, it's too bad we're completely platonic because this would be a lot of fun."


So a semi-wasted opportunity as no one was working with whom I would take advantage of a dark and deserted room...maybe next time. *sigh*


*Please tell me you got the song in your head!

Sweet relief

I almost fell off my chair this morning. NotTutorBoy sent me an email. A long email, in fact, laying out why he cut off contact. My eyes teared up not from sadness but from the sweet relief of knowing just what happened. I hadn't realized until that moment just how much I had been carrying this around. Despite my confidence that everything had been amazing, I realized I had begun to doubt myself. Sweet relief:

"Hey NotMiranda,

Sorry it took me so long to get back to you. So here's the deal: I've been on and off with this girl for the last year and a half (long distance relationship). When I met/pursued you, we had been broken up for a few weeks. She moved back recently and I took her out to eat so we could talk about things. Long story short, we decided to give it another try. In transit, from the restaurant she found a number of your hairs in my car. Needless to say, she wasn't thrilled. I explained what happened between us and she pretty much asked that I not have contact with you anymore (understandable from her point of view). So this is the reasonfor my disappearing act.

I apologize for not being up front and just letting you know when it happened. I hope you don't hate me, it was not my intention to play games with you or disrespect you in any way. I guess all I can really say is that I apologize, and I hope that you accept.

NotTutorBoy"

Rabid Pussy

The Game Warden just came to investigate what may have been a rabid cat near my house. Sadly, this possibly-rabid cat sort of reminded me of myself. Check it...

I was talking with a friend earlier about tomorrow night's plans and we both almost simultaneously expressed our hopes for all the "new, single, hott males" who might be where we are going. It was one step away from foaming at the mouth in anticipation of all the meat we could potentially encounter at the parties and bars.

Lately I've been feeling like I'm on a constant manhunt where I view every situation as one with potential. Not that I don't think that's a good mindset to have, but when I find myself imagining, Ally McBeal style, jumping across counters to attack male prey, I know it's gone a bit far. I haven't progressed to this erratic behavior (yet), but with the severe lack of play I'm getting, coupled with the even more severe lack of potentials in my group of friends, I'm afraid of what my diseased* mind might do.

And let's talk about this extremely severe lack of potentials that has us chicas plagued. The group dynamic has once again shifted and left us with a total cooter fest. I miss the days of yore when I had oodles of guy friends who, in turn, had oodles of guy friends. It's six degrees of guy friends and I miss it dearly. I mean, desperately.

So, like that rabid cat, I need some meat and I'd prefer mine to be in the form of male. And soon, please, because really? the foaming at the mouth can't be attractive.



Too bad the game warden wasn't hot...


*Hey, lack of kissing is a disease in my book!

No time like never

iTunes slipped a real downer into the party shuffle that was driving me through my work tasks. Concentration trained on the tasks at hand, I mentally screeched to a hault when India.Arie's I am ready for love* came on. I realized that, ready or not, I don't have time for love.

The muscle knotted between my shoulder blades and the red blood vessels always visibile in my eyes these days tell of work stress and long days and nights spent working two jobs. There are emails unsent to friends I've been planning to catch up with for months, sick family to worry about in other states, dreams of creative projects and new cities I'm too tired to pursue. I've scheduled and committed myself out of a certain kind of life.

How do you go into a relationship telling someone you can love them on Wednesdays and Fridays but are pretty busy the rest of the week?

Such an incredibly sad realization.

*No judging...it's actually a beautiful song.

Af-KEG-istan

Over the weekend the Nots and I helped everyone celebrate their 21st birthdays all over again. There was a keg, of Yuengling hereby known as "Das Keg."
We only drank about half of it because the party ended early. Because, well, we were hammered. There were keg stands, Never Have I Evers, robot cupcakes, and lots of crazy flirting going on.
But I digress.
What does one do with half a keg? Specifically, half a keg that has been sitting in one of our friends' living rooms since Saturday night, with the tap still in it?

That's right kids, you drink it.

A select number of individuals came to my house last night in order to "Kick the Keg." NotCarrie, me, NotGraceful, NotCurly, and a new person, NotVeryMature (who was invited simply because she had retrieved said keg) sat on my deck, feet on the bucket holding the keg and played games like Chug the Jug, Flip Cup, and Beer Pong. The beer was slightly flat, but still tasted alright, especially once it was chilled enough. The sky darkened early, especially for 7pm, when we started on Das Keg. It was 9pm when we were drunk off our asses, smoking 15 cigarettes at a time and taking inappropriate pictures. At a certain point in the evening, NotVeryMature decided to start throwing up everywhere and spent the rest of the evening either in my bathroom or leaning over the balcony, spewing her brains out. Lightweight.

Beer drunk is completely different, in my opinion, than liquor drunk. I got a buzz a helluva lot faster than when I drink my staple rum & coke and it seems to stay with me a lot longer. As the pictures proved, our inhibitions ran rampant as we viewed photos of pantless, boxer-clad skinny boys, massively close group hugs, and artsy shots of Das Keg at varying angles and exposures.

I wish I could say the rest of the evening was uneventful, but it wasn't. Most everyone left around midnight and after shoving the empty keg into NotVeryMature's car and saying goodbye to everyone, I found myself across the street, walking my dog and having a very interesting phone conversation with NotGraceful. After going to his house and having NotVM follow him home, he calls me and for the next 15 minutes we discuss reasons as to why he should come over.
He finally does, after saying "You'd better be ready to do whatever I want..." pretty much like he does every time.
This, of course, excites me in my drunken stupor and I try not to fall asleep while I wait for him to come over.
He finally does and we make idle chatter in my basement, watching random reality television, then he turns to me, pulls me on top of him and proceeds to...
I'll leave details out, but it was good and I was satisfied (and we didn't bone). I backed off of him and see that he's still ready for something good so I help him out a little manually.
This appears to upset him, so I ask what he wants me to do. He sputters the word "mouth" and I start to balk. I associate oral sex with "taking it to the next level," aka "being more intimate than laying vertical on a couch with the lights on."
He notices this. Proceeds to get perturbed.
He then goes on a tangent, spouting out sentences that really made me glad I hadn't gone for it. He says things that include "you're so young" and "what do you want, a relationship?" and my personal favorite, "I guess this makes me an asshole then, huh?"
This was all said with half closed eyes, still laying on the couch, pants unzipped and belt on the floor.
All I can do is shake my head at him. He gets up, gathers his belongings, and pretty much storms out of my house.
Leaving his guitar. If any of you have a use for an acoustic guitar missing the top string, let me know. Or, if you have any good ideas as to how I could dispose of it, let me know as well.

I know some of you are like "jeez, finally NotCharlotte, you learned your lesson!"
I think my Not ladies understand my predicament, and why I kept coming back to him for late night rendezvous. Hell, I had even made out with him on NotCurly's deck the weekend before.

But no more! I need to stop analyzing it over and over again and just drop it. I would say I'd do the "out of sight, out of mind" thing, however we both hang out with the same people and the next few weeks provide plenty of opportunity for interpersonal exchanges that involve alcohol, getting drunk, and celebrating graduations.

I think the only way to resolve this is for me to get really drunk and punch him.

Good to the last drop

It's that last drink that does always does me in. We threw a birthday party for the masses yesterday, and that last drink sealed my fate. Rum and vodka running through my veins fueled my enthusiasm for the arrival of NotBeast. Perhaps I wouldn't have been an enthralled had he not looked so damn good. Sadly, as I opened the door to invite him in and and grasped the red solo life preserver, memories start to cloud. I just know that it wasn't yet 1:00 am and NotBeast had probably been there less than 30 minutes when we were headed out into the night air together.

I awoke this morning in my bed, clothes strewn across my bedroom floor and new bruises on my body.

Damn that last drink.

Love Rhymes with Hideous Car Wreck

Ah, the weather's been gorgeous outside. Everyone's been in fairly decent moods.
Spring has sprung, everyone. Sound the alarms! Alert the media! Get married!

Wait, what?

Yeah, spring. Time for blue skies, birds chirping, graduations, and weddings. Two of my friends are getting married this summer. One of them I've known since high school. She's like my little sister and it's going to be so weird that she's getting married before I do. The other is a couple I set up a few years ago. I'm closer to the groom than the bride, but I'm happy that they're getting married because they're perfect for each other. The group that's going to be at the latter wedding is the "crew" i used to hang out with, including my ex. This means that when I do attend this wedding, I will be judged. It's a long story.

This in turn means that I need to take someone with me that will not only help me "show them up," but that I will have a good time with.

This is where you guys come in. I am hereby asking all of you wonderful people that read this blog, to help me find wedding dates! I need a guy that's got a sense of humor that matches mine, so when we sit at one of the tables and I start talking about people, they will laugh deeply at my jokes and not think my judgement is offensive... even when it is. They must have a suit, be taller than 5'10", and be able to clean up pretty nice.

Is that asking too much? I'd put out a craigslist ad, but I'm not that desperate yet. If you've got someone in mind, or would like to offer yourself up, email me!

Getting schooled

Thanks for all of your comments on the NotTutorboy situation. I have to tell you how shocked I am that this seems a fairly common occurrence. I guess I'm just glad it took 31 years to happen to me. ; )

It turns out NotTutorboy isn't dead. Go figure. On Thursday afternoon I get an email that goes something like this:

NotMiranda,

I just wanted to see how you're doing. I know I've been MIA for a week. How are things?

NotTuturboy

Really? My first thought was you've got to be fucking kidding me. Later that evening guess who shows up at the bookstore to tutor looking waaaaay too good. I proceeded to ignore him as best as possible and made sure to be unavailable* when his tutoring session ended. Friday morning I got to work and crafted my response.

NotTutorboy,

I'm good.

I'm a pretty laidback, chill** girl, but what you did (the lack of email or voicemail response when we had plans) was a pretty shitty thing to do. You pursued me, so what happened? Girlfriend? Something changed? You tell me.

NotMiranda

It's been almost a week since I sent that email and no response. He showed up for tutoring again last night and gave me the smile/wave. Again, I ask what the fuck. I waved back thinking 'screw you' in my head. It pisses me off that he looks so good when he comes in and that all that good chemistry is going to waste. Honestly, though, what gets me the most is that I didn't see it coming. I'm usually known for being able to read people. To be proven so wrong kind of knocks the wind out of a girl's sails.


*I was also extremely tipsy thanks to a between job happy hour that resulted from a stressful work day and that email.
**And I was in this case. I was making no promises and asking for no commitments. I was Ms. Go-with-the-Flow.

Can you hear me now?

Growing up, I'd start collections of things. I collected keychains, stamps, anything that had to do with "Starry Night," those damn beanie babies, and even different kinds of pens and/or pencils.
I have boxes upon boxes of collections in storage.

Recently I've been collecting something a bit more.... adult. I've been collecting men's phone numbers.

Thursday evening during my poetry workshop, one of the guys in class grabbed my phone during our break and before I knew it, typed his number onto the screen and handed it back to me so i could save him as a contact.

Friday I went into the bakery I used to work at and one of the hot managers got my phone number so he could call me the next time they all went out for a drink after work.

Saturday night I was asked for my phone number by a cute guy my friend and I met whilst attending Mousetrap at the Black Cat. I consider this a part of my collection because while I didn't get his phone number, I will soon have it when he calls me back.


I think this is a good time to pimp out Mousetrap. Last night I decided to go pure hipster and wore a tight black pinstripe skirt, a black scoop neck top and some red 4 inch heels with white polka dots on them. I also decided to try out some red lipstick. My friend and usual Mousetrap co-goer decided to wear a short bright red dress and black shoes. It could have been the fact that we kind of matched, but I also believe it was the fact that we were naturally hott, but the entire night we were inundated with stares/accidental touches/conversations with everyone.
Mousetrap is the perfect place to meet people. There is no right way to dance to the type of music they play, so even if you suck at rhythm, chances are you aren't the only one. One of the most recent requirements for attending Mousetrap is the ability to clap. We started numerous clapathons throughout the course of the evening and we even decided to one day "go pro" with our "A-clap-ella" routine.

It's the second Saturday of every month. If you're lucky, maybe you'll run into one of us if you decide to go ;-)