Sunday, April 29, 2007

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.

Sunday, April 22, 2007

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!

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

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:


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


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.


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.


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.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

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 ;-)

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

what the fuck

Because really the title couldn't sum up this entire series of events better. NotTutorBoy is gone. He has completely disappeared from the face of the earth. You'll remember last Wednesday's chemistry experiment that had me risking extreme exhibitionism and him uttering "you're so fucking sexy." Things were good. I got out of his car with him talking about how he couldn't wait to see me on Saturday. Saturday was the promise of mad, hot sex. You'll also remember that he pursued me for almost two months before finally asking me out, and then we had to wait another three weeks for our schedules to mesh.

Why go to all of this trouble, giving absolutely no negative signs only to disappear like Houdini? Even if he was only in it for the sex*, he was pretty much guaranteed sex on Saturday, so why bail before the big payoff?

I email him on Friday to tell him about my plans for Saturday and tell him he needs to let me know when he wants to meet up. No response on Friday, but I'm not too worried. I figure we're all busy at work, right? Saturday rolls around, and I continued on with my plans for the day assuming he would call at some point. Nothing. Absofuckinglutely nothing. By Saturday evening I was at the bar with the girls and some other guys and definitely disappointed**. I leave a voicemail on Sunday evening to find out what has changed. No response. Nothing on Monday. Tuesday is tutoring day, and he doesn't show. Nothing. He has vanished, and I can't figure out why.

Ah well...not enough time to form a serious attachment. We've decided he must have died. Sucks for him.

*And for someone only in it for nookie, he sure worked really hard to get it and is definitely someone who could be getting it plenty of other places.

**We won't even get into the sexual frustration.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

I think I need a wife...

I've come to the conclusion that if I'm not going to get married anytime soon, I should look into getting a wife. Now, before the feminists and misogynists and any other -ists I've forgotten, get all up in arms, know that I'm not looking specifically for someone female, rather, I'm looking for someone to fill that traditionally female-characterized role.

I didn't come to this end easily. However, the more I think about it, the more sense it makes. I work two jobs, have a somewhat thriving social circle (when I'm not hiding from it) and find that I have little, if any time to take care of things at home. Doing laundry, making my breakfast, lunch and dinner for the week.

This was made even more glaringly obvious when I spent the night over at NotDippy and NotANinja's home after viewing the cherry blossom's in DC. NotDippy writes and thus works from home and one of the last things she mentioned to me that night was that the coffeemaker was all set up and all that needed to happen was for me to plug it in the next morning and presto, I would have coffee. The next morning made this a moot point, since by the time I had rolled out of bed, put on my clothes and done my makeup, she had risen, turned on the pot and made me oatmeal (and none of that instant crap either). To which I told her I needed her as a wife and her response was to laugh.

I'm a believer in roles for people. While I would probably make awful housewife material (not a fan of cleaning, hate to do laundry, etc.), I make a great worker bee. Some people are suited to the role that I can't fulfill and I see no reason not to let people do the role they feel comfortable with.

I want to go to work and come home knowing that the house is clean, there is food on the table, clean underwear in my drawer and that I didn't have to spend an entire day doing this to get to that point. Someone else, who finds this type of work both satisfying and fulfilling did. I will in turn go to work and earn the money to keep the house clean and buy the groceries that will materialize into food and purchase the cleaning products that will be used to make my home worth living in.

Which brings me back to the present. I think I need a wife. While I am not particular about physical characteristics they must love housework and cooking and be able to provide color commentary when I bitch about the kids outside making noise again. Anybody takers?

Sunday, April 08, 2007


Last night started with secrets. I went to my friends apartment and we left for the bar earlier than usual. I didn't think anything of it until we made a right turn instead of a left one, away from where we were supposed to be headed. I hate it when things are kept from me, and my friends decided not to tell me where we were going until I figured it out myself. I had a funny feeling about the whole night, and this wasn't helping my mood at all.
We finally arrived at our destination; apparently we were picking up the guy that I hooked up with last weekend, yeah the hickey guy.
I have no idea why they decided to not tell me we were picking him up. It's not like it was a big deal and it just added stress to the situation.
Anyway, we get to the bar and hang out for awhile. No one drank much, there was a 'bar conflict' between two of our friends that resulted in a knocked over beer and lots of stares from other barmates.
After that we went to a friend of a friend's house for their birthday party. We drank a lot of strawbery flavored alcohols and left early to head to another friends' house. Once there, a couple of us proceeded to drink more.
Our ride decided to leave and we all went with her. I decided to sober up at my other friends' house while the other took the guy home. I didn't think much of it until I got another weird feeling. After some cryptic text messages I find out that he invited her into his house. This absolutely crushed me, not only because he's a bastard but because I wouldn't have found out about it if I hadn't have asked. After that I drove home still slightly intoxicated, which I do not recommend for anyone. Luckily the ride was short and I was pretty much the only one on the road.
Secrets. I hate them. Some people think they're just looking out for me, but in all honesty I'd rather have the full on truth then to keep going, naiively believing things are a-ok. I got pissed last night because I deal with the two of them flirting, but in the back of my mind I'm afraid something will happen.
It's not like this guy and I are even dating, but still, shouldn't your friends' crush be off limits? I don't flirt with the guys she likes. I know we're all horny women that just want to hook up with someone, but still.
All I ask is that people be honest with me. I hate being left out. All my life I've had situations like this, where secrets are kept, or information excluded from the stories given to me. I thought that I had grown out of it, grown older and hung out with people that I could trust to give me the straight story. At this point though, I guess I should be used to it.

Edit: I guess I should have been more clear... she did not take him up on his offer, however the rest of the story and my feelings are still the same.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

Drive fast, speed turns me on

Last night was date #2* with the new guy. NotTutorBoy** met me at the bookstore around 7, and I'll be damned if he didn't look good. We took off for the local pool hall where I promptly lost two games in a row. Sadly, despite my best efforts, my mind was so not on the pool game. The chemistry we share is pretty fucking undeniable. I'm not sure if it's meant to cloud the mind, and I really don't care. I can just say that 30 minutes into the date and my goal of keeping this date on the tame side had evaporated. All day had been spent overthinking and battling my internal demons, and in just few short minutes, I had clarity. Go with the flow and have fun won out over obsessive and have fun is exactly what I did.

There is a very bold, forward side to my personality, and she kind of took over last night. I get high tempting fate, living on the edge***. I must have been high on whatever that chemical is that fuels our sex drive because I bloody tap danced all over that edge last night. Road head barreling down I-66 as I accidentally kept slipping the car into neutral...pressed up against the car with the wind adding to the atmosphere...parked between school buses and witnessing what has to be the fastest leap from the back seat to the front seat all the while starting the car to avoid completely fogged over.

All of that and I still didn't have sex with him. He says I'm torturous. We're hanging out Saturday, and I think it's time to end the stand off ; )

*Yes, I'm calling it a date despite what you heathens might think!

**I figure he deserves a name. Thanks, NotCarrie. : )

***Hello...this is the girl who wants to live in Africa. Haha.

Sunday, April 01, 2007

Your Bruise

I've got three bits of random information for you lovelies.

  1. Firstly, I'm back from Louisville. I went there to help run a conference for my job. It went extremely well and I'm more pumped than ever to be in the job field that I'm currently in, granted there were 15 hour workdays and I'm still not caught up on sleep... especially after last night.
  2. The guy I wrote to last week wrote me back the day after. He said that he thought we'd really get along too, but he was in a relationship already. It made me sad, but it didn't hurt to ask. It also made me wonder if I had written him a day, week, or month earlier like I had wanted to, would the answer had been different?
  3. Last night I got a mad ass make out session. It was really nice and I will perhaps explain the situation a bit later. This morning, after dropping him off at his car, I went up to my bathroom to prepare for bed and I happened to glance in the mirror... only to find a hickey the size of New Jersey (or two golf balls) on the part of my body where my shoulder meets my neck. I guess the 90s are back in style, but do we really have to bring 9th grade back? I'm just happy that it's on a part of my neck that I can easily cover with higher necked t-shirts.
That's all I've got for right now. I could actually elaborate on all three stories, but that would make this blog too long, plus leave me without material for about a week. Happy April everyone!

P.S. Just to play it safe, none of these are an April Fool's joke.

UPDATE: According to NotMiranda, the guy from #3 apparently has a hickey of his own...