Nice guy syndrome

I just got my knickers in such a twist at work that I had to take a break and rant about it. Excuse me while I get up on my soapbox.

(clears throat)

I am TIRED of nice guys and the nice guy excuse! The nice guy who won't make the first move seems to be all I'm surrounded by. I am even going to remove myself and the boys who enthrall me from the equation. Let me just talk about the boy friends that I have and the women who are smitten with them. When will these men learn that being nice isn't an excuse for a lack of balls? Yes, we understand that you're afraid of rejection and lack confidence just like women, but has this become a pandemic? Are men putting their foot down and refusing to make the first move, preferring to remain single and celebate (with the exception of their hand)? You know what...I could even accept that. Lay down the law and say you're tired of bearing all of the burden of the chase. However, don't say that the reason you're single and can never find a girl is because you are too nice. Perhaps the reason you're single is because you need to grow a pair.

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 ;-)

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 ; )

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.

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!