Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Why I'm Still Single (Part 5)

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.
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I parked in the parking garage an hour early to pick Can-Can Boy up from BWI.

Saying I had sweaty palms, would be an understatement. My heart was racing, and even though I'd brought a book to read, I couldn't get past my book mark. I kept looking up thinking, "maybe he's early!"

He wasn't.

I finally got a phone call from him that he was off the plane and walking through the airport.

Before I knew it he was there, wrapping me in his arms and escorting me through the concourse. That's one of the things I adored about him. His ability to take the lead and protect me always impressed my small-town girl sensibilities.

We got in the car, and he called his mom to let her know he had landed safely, and then we scooted back down 95 to my well appointed Dormpartment (A dorm that's set up like an apartment).

2/3 of my roommates met him and they all seemed to like him. EA thought that he was a bit too snarky for her exact taste, but between you and me, and her and me, and me and me... neither one of us ever had the most excellent taste in men during college, sans ex646 - he was a good guy, still is.

EA has seen it all. She knows me often better than I know myself.

Our last two years in college was a whirlwind of falling on her bed at 2 a.m. and going, "EAAAAAA!!! I've met the man of my dreams!!!! He's SOOOOO PERFECT!!!! Lookit! Look at this picture! Look how perfect he is!!!!!!!!!!" *hiccup!*

OR

"EAAAAA!!! IT. WAS. A. NIGHTMARE! You'll never guess what happened! THIS GUY out of NO-where did, X, Y, and Z and ugggggggh! Oh F*ck, be right back!" *vom*

So she has a very key ability to know what I think and when I think it, and she also has the unique perspective of someone who was in a long distance relationship at the exact same time. So most of the time we'd talk through the issues we each were having and arrive at solutions that worked towards the benefit of each couple.

So Can-Can Boy sat on the couch and watched TV, and cuddled, and ordered a pizza with EA. The three of us just chilling. Most people would think, "but he was visiting you. Why did y'all sit out in the living room with your roommate?"

Because I needed her to get to know him. I needed him to get to know her. I'm very - very careful when it comes to introducing my friends to the guys in my life. It usually takes 3 to 4 months before I'll bring them around, because to be real with you, they seldom last that long. Introducing a guy I'm dating to my friends, is a big step for me, because of how carefully I choose my friends. I don't willy nilly introduce them around to everybody. It's a big deal in my life.

But here was the first chip in Can-Can Boy's "perfect" facade. He wasn't fond of EA and told me so within the first night of meeting her. Not, a "let me get to know her better" meeting but, a "wow - no" impression.

O.K.

In my opinion he just needed to get to know her better, but I dropped the subject because he was there for one weekend, and I didn't want to argue about it.

The next day we headed downtown, walked around the monuments, went to the museums, and then spent about an hour at my favorite spot in DC during the summer - the Sculpture Garden, just around the fountain part.



We put our feet in and sat admiring the day and talking, because we never ran out of anything to talk about.

I could skype with him for hours, and we'd still have stuff to text each other afterwards.

While I sat with my feet in the water, he got up every so often to take a picture of a duck here or a bird there.

"Are you gonna post those pictures so I can see them?"
"Oh, no I don't post pictures on facebook."
"You have albums and albums full of pictures..."
"I stopped posting my pictures though."
"Well how am I going to see them."
"You can ask like a normal person."
"Why don't you post pictures on facebook anymore?"
"It just got too complicated. People always commenting on them. It's annoying."
"Well you could privatize it to where just we could see."
"I don't think I'll do that."

The conversation struck me as odd at the time, but I ignored it, because - GUYS, I was in LOVE. Calm self assured, open-hearted, trusting love. <--- note this, because it seldom happens.

Usually I'm in the head over heels wanting to jump off the rooftops because I have the worlds biggest crush on this guy or that guy, BUT feeling like I can be me and still impress someone and not have to shout from the steeple how into someone I am... that happens once in a blue moon.

Actually blue moons happen too often, in actuality that kind of love probably only happens to me when Haley's comet comes to town.



The next two days were spent walking around campus, just staying in bed chatting about everything, and introducing him to my best friend, Shay. Shay liked him from what she told me, and he seemed to get along with her too, at least he didn't kvetch about her later to me.

The last morning he was there, I told him I'd take him out for breakfast, but then I remembered something my grandmother once told me, "nothing says love like a homemade meal."

So since I hadn't cooked for him all weekend, and because, I dear readers am an AMAZING cook. I decided to cook him up some pancakes, and bacon, and eggs.

I was so nervous about the pancakes being thin enough (he liked thin pancakes) that I completely washed out on the bacon and 5 minutes into his shower the smoke detector was blaring, and my roommates were helping me get the 2 detectors to shut the f*ck off. It took us 10 minutes of EA wafting the door and me jumping back and forth between the two detectors.

After all that my bacon was slightly burned and just like I anticipated my pancakes weren't "thin" enough, but he did say they tasted good...

Later that day I dropped him off at the airport and we stood outside of Security our forheads touching, with his arms around my waist and my arms around his neck.

"Are you gonna miss me?" he asked.
"Not at all." Lie.
"Not even a little bit?"
"Maybe a little."
He started to tear up...
'Oh god, no, no, no, no, no.' I thought.
What's he doing?? Maybe I saw this wrong. Maybe my eyes are deceiving me.

Nope, saw it right... he. started. to. cry.

If you've been reading my blog for awhile, you'll know that I don't cry - in public... ever (that one time excluded) I've cried once in public in the last... year. Prior to that I cried at my grandmother's funeral and even then this wasn't break down cry this was a "I must be strong so that I can support my family" watery eyes thing - so it wasn't even a full cry it was a whimper-whimper-sniff-sniff.

I didn't really know what to do. So I hugged him.

"You're not sad to see me leave?"
"Yeah, I am."
"But you're not crying, are you really sad?"
"Yeah babe, but um I just don't want to cry."
"I feel like the girl."
'Because you're being one.' 


So after a longer extended conversation about why he was crying and I wasn't, we kissed and he walked through security.

On top of the crying thing, he also had forgotten his phone charger in Canballia, and since he had forgotten his phone charger in Canballia, he couldn't call his mom to let her know he was on the plane, so he gave me her phone number to call after I dropped him off.

I don't really understand why he couldn't call her from my phone himself, but I took it as another sign that he trusted me and loved me and wanted me to meet his family (I'd already met his mother...) So I called.
"Hello, Mrs. Can-Can Boy?"
"Yes...."
"Hi it's LoRo..."
"Who?"
"LoRo.. You know, the DC girl that your son's visiting."
"uh-huh..."
"Um... ok, I just wanted to let you know that Can-Can Boy totally forgot his phone charger, so he wanted me to let you know that he's on the plane, and he'll call you when he can charge his phone again."
"Well, ok"
"Ok, well have a good day!"
"mmm, you too."

She seemed horribly displeased and uncomfortable on the phone, or at least that's how I felt that she felt, and I pondered why she was sketched out as I drove back to DC.







Monday, November 28, 2011

DIBS!!! DIBS!!! DIBS!!!

We're going to take a break from our "Why Am I Still Single" Series to do a quick post inspired by watching football for the last 14 weeks.

All the guys in these pictures (aside from the Brawny Man) are players in the NFL. If you want to know who's who just ask!

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Most people have a certain kind of person they find appealing.

And just like most people, I'm horribly predictable.

My friends can pick out what guy I'm going to go for almost as quick as I can. See. I have a type - a very-particular, well-defined type.

Think lumberjacks.

I like them built like professional NFL linebackers, with beards and bad dance moves.

My Kind of Guys




Seriously you put Jason Kelce of the Eagles or Brett Keisel of the Steelers in front of me, and after I got over the shell shock, I'd flirt my ass off.

Seriously if I had to pick the top 10 sexiest men in the world. Those guys up there would be my top 4, followed by the Brawny man.  Not the new one... the old one with the molestash that looks a bit like Howard Keel from the movie "Annie Get Your Gun."



Most of my friends think my type of guy is actually the most unfortunate kind of guy they've ever seen in their life. I think they are so sexy. Sue me. I have a type.

My friends, like most girls, are normally into guys built like quarterbacks and kickers and running backs, which to me are cute, but I'm not going to be breaking anyone's nose to jump them. These are the typical guys. These are the cuties. These are the actual "sexiest" guys alive, and I could care less.

My Friend's Kind of Guys 






However, on some rare occasions, my friends and I might find someone who is a perfect mix of both our types - think tight ends and burlier quarterbacks. This is when we have some problems.

Both of Our Kind of Guys


When guys like this enter the picture (or the bar), we start to have a problem. 

See - like all groups of friends, my group is very different. We have shy girls, forward girls, in between girls, and each of us has our own style of attracting men.  

I'm not going to lie, the odds that I'm going to stride up to you in a bar is 1 in a MILLION (unless I'm plastered), because I've got a slow and steady win the race mentality. It could be a couple weeks of seeing you around town before I go up to you, but, unlike me, my friend Sam will make it known in the first five minutes. 

Well ladies and gentlemen this can make it horribly awkward for all parties if you're mad crushing someone but your friend dives in first. 

BUT THANK THE GOOD LORDS! 

Guys came up with a system many, many years ago, which the girls are just starting to catch onto - Dibs. 

What is dibs

1st - Get out from under that rock. 

2nd - Dibs is when you see a potential walk into the bar/ across the room/ at the game and you are SO into them, and you want your friends to know to back off. 

This is where you shout, "DIBS!"

Usually when I shout, "dibs," my friends all turn at me and say, "dude, you can HAVE him." 

Unless they look like the guys in the last group of photos, then people might get upset, but.. 

Dibs is sacred. 

You do not fuck with dibs. 

Fucking with dibs is like fucking with a Panda Bear - it might seem like just a simple little thing, but if you fuck with a Panda Bear they'll tear your head off. 

If you fuck with dibs, you put your flirting life on the line for the next two weeks, because breaking dibs means you lose dibbing privileges for a FULL two weeks. 

This doesn't mean Saturday to Saturday and on the next Saturday you get to start using dibs again, this means on the SUNDAY post the Saturday you get dibs again. 

If you fuck with dibs, and you're on dibbing probation, and then break dibs again, you can find some new people to go out with, because then you lose your friend honor. 

If you're willing to repetively step on your friend's toes for a guy, how good of a friend are you really? Bros before ho's and chicks before dicks. Sometimes you have to sacrifice your flirting for the honor of the group. 

It's the whole Three Musketeers mentality. It's the "All for one and one for all" mentality where, if you call dibs, your friends are obligated to wingman for you to the best of their ability unless they're flirting their ass off with someone else. It's the I'm going to let you have this one, because you saw him first - so that the next one you can call, if you're quick enough. There's an honor to dibbing, because if someone is calling dibs, they're going to give it their best - even if their best isn't your version of the best. 

SILENT DIBS

What is silent dibs? 

Silent dibs is what happens when you or a friend have slept-with/hooked-up-with/made-out-with someone and would like to continue sleeping/hooking-up/making-out with that person, and it is known to the group. 

Silent dibs is not necessarily spoken. It's usually just an understanding between friends that they might still be interested in pursuing more nights/days of passion. 

If they've hit a base with that person - they're off limits unless they relinquish dibs. 

Relinquishing dibs must be verbal, and in order to relinquish dibs, the person relinquishing MUST look you in the eyes to relinquish. Otherwise, they might still think that there could be potential in the future, and you don't want to step on their toes no matter how hot the guy/girl is. 


Now these are just my dib-pinions. What are some of y'alls? Is dibbing with your groups sacred? Is dibbing chauvinistic? Is dibbing dumb? I'd like to know! 

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Why I'm Still Single (Part 4)


The next morning I texted him how much I loved him (yeah... I said love - this is not me... this is ober girly me, and ober girly me needs people to know how much I love them, all the time) and couldn't wait to see him again. I created a calendar and crossed off the days until our next meeting.

A few weeks later I drove back from Texas to DC, and stopped over to visit Can-Can Boy in his new city (he moved there for an internship). I'd always wanted to visit the home of the BI-LO Dome and see where my favorite hockey player Martin Masa had played when he was younger.

Martin played on my hometown team when I was in high school, and he was good friends with my family. My current TV is actually one that he gave me - it's old, but I hate to get rid of it, because of its sentimental value.

We arrived much earlier than when my mother and I had visited him in City B, because at this point in time, no one else mattered. All I wanted to do was see him. All I wanted to do was stay there for a week to be with him, but when you have a conservative southern mother, that's not an option.

The weeks had been cruel, I felt as thought part of my soul had been ripped out, only to find it again when he held me in his arms.

I don't actually know if he ever knew this. I'm horrible at expressing my in the moment emotions.

Can-Can Boy and I had the "we're exclusive, but we're not boyfriend/girlfriend" chat, because he didn't really want to put labels on it (read he was probably seeing other people - sans sexytime - there's a lot of pictures of him with a certain girl from this time period - oh wait - he's currently engaged to this same girl... odd isn't it). As I look back on it now, his decision to "love me so much," but refusing to allow me to call him my boyfriend when we were "exclusive" makes no sense...  So of course when talking to my friends I dubbed him, 'the Manfriend.'

'Manfriend' to this day is synonymous in my group of friends as someone you're serious about but you're not 100% together - if that makes any sense. He's someone you would bring around to meet your friends, but not someone whom you would bring to meet your family if that makes sense (however Can-Can Boy had definitely already met my mother for sure and my brother's GF, Ash who is family. I had also already met his mother and played trivia with her. She was a really sweet lady, whom I seriously wanted to get to know better).  

Instead of postponing getting to see him till later like the first time around, I drove at a horribly illegal speed to get to him as soon as possible. I longed for him more than I had actually ever longed for someone.

He picked me up at the hotel, talked with my mom for a bit (like a true-southern-gentleman should), and then whisked me off for a walk through Greenville, SC, which is so cute by the way. I'd totally move there when I'm older.

We stopped to grab some pizza at this cute little bistro, because he knew how much I loved pizza (seriously it's my favorite food), and then we made our way back through down town and out onto these trails by a stream. 

After walking the length of the trail until just before it got creepy and graffitied, we cuddled up on a bench and talked about everything, (including my nauseating fear of heights, which he tried to rid me of later on a bridge overlooking the water) while watching families walk by and some poor child play baseball with himself as his parents watched. 

The day slowly began to wane while we talked about our childhood, our futures, our hopes and dreams, but we managed to make our way over to a swinging bench next to the waterfall, and we spent the rest of the evening with me lying down with my head in his lap as we watched the sunset, the moon, shooting stars, planes and satellites while rocking gently back and forth.

It was well past 10 p.m. before we left the comfort of the bench, due to the chill in the summer evening air. 

He then took me on a tour of the town and his new place, before dropping me back off at my hotel. I stayed out much later than I should have, but I didn't want to leave him. I didn't feel like returning to college to be honest with you. I would have been so content to just pause my life to be a waitress in a small town, waiting for him. 

A few weeks later after skyping nearly every day and texting constantly, we decided that he should visit me in DC.

A day after he booked his plane ticket, my best friends, N, Ro, Shay, and I along with another good friend Indy went out to the Great Frederick Fair. We thought it would be a great decision after we had all watched the movie, State Fair the 1960 something musical.

If you haven't been to the Great Frederick Fair, I highly recommend it.

As we made our way along the midway Shay kept pointing out these fortune tellers and palm readers. She desperately wanted to do it, but she didn't want to do it alone, so being a slightly superstitious person (I am SOOO not walking under a ladder), I agreed to have my palm read.

Here's where it gets interesting.

As I sat in the chair infront of this horribly ancient woman, she started at my palm for a good 5 minutes before she spoke. The first words out of her mouth, "You're in love with a man who lives far away from you."

I nearly shit my pants.

"But I can tell he is not the first man that you loved. You loved for many years a man 9 years and 10 months your senior. You had a deep love - a true love."

I actually gagged. In high school I had been horribly close friends with a man close to 10 years my senior. We talked every day - no matter what. He came to see my marching band performances, and I went to see his Christian band play.

We loved each other with such true, pure passion that we never crossed the line. Many people don't understand this. His best friend got a girl 8/9 years his junior pregnant and all of his friends thought that he would do the same with me. They shunned him. They kicked him out of the band. They pushed him aside and abandoned him like a dog on the side of the road, just because they didn't understand our friendship.

I stopped dating in my last two years of high school because of this man. I couldn't think of dating someone else when all I wanted to do was date him, which couldn't happen, because we both knew the consequences.

After I turned 18 he told me how much he loved me - my sentiments were the exact same. The night after he professed this love to me, we stood awkwardly in the Sonic parking lot our foreheads bent together. Our eyes locked. His hand on my neck, mine on his, with the tension of 3 years of built up love coursing through our veins.

And then, I walked away. You can ask him to this day, and he will tell you how much he loved me. He's married now, which is for the best because I knew at that moment in time that I wasn't meant to be in SETX and that being there was going to slowly kill my passion for creativity and life, no matter how much I loved him. He knew he couldn't tie me down either - I had a soul meant for soaring. So we slowly, slowly severed our love over months and months and months. The slow passing of our love pained me every step of the way.

One night I sat at the foot of my dorm room bed wailing, because I couldn't stand it anymore. One of my close floor-mates came to my aid, holding my head, letting me cry my thousand tears. I tried to explain the situation to her, but she didn't understand, after that I stopped telling the story. From that point on my "how many men have you dated" count constantly counted him out, because no one understood.

The next thing my palm reader said to me was, "you have already met your husband, he will be your second great love. Your last great love, and you will have 3 children with him."

"Am I currently dating him?"

"That I cannot tell, the man you date now - you love very deep, but I cannot tell if he's the one. He is very dear to you, and you are very very dear to him. But I'm also saying that you should not turn your back on him, because he needs you as much as you need him, and my dear, he loves you very, very much. It is promising though."

"Wow, I once had a tarot reader tell me I'm to be married before a certain age, do you know what age that is?"

"28."

She was spot on. A tarot reader during my freshman year in college (I was 18 at the time) had grabbed my hand most intensely during a reading on the quad, when I asked her if I'd be married before 10 years were out, she said, "you will be married before your 28th birthday to your last great love." - For this I have witnesses.

After this I needed to know. I needed to know how Can-Can Boy and I interacted for longer than 8 hours now that we were "together." 

So he booked a ticket and flew up. I picked his sexy ass up in Baltimore at BWI, and (dot) (dot) (dot) 

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Why I'm Still Single (part 3)


I'm not the kind of girl who gives her heart away easily, unless we share the bond of sisterhood. I hold onto it until I'm absolutely 100% sure nothing is going to happen to it.

See, I was cheated on 3 times by my sophomore year of college, in just as many boyfriends. The jewel on the crown being the night I walked in on my first college beau to find him buck-naked with another girl (this incident founded the seedling of irritation with Marines) (See later irritation with marines).

For me to commit to someone involves making sure, making 100% sure I don't want to be with anyone else. I don't want to find out 3 months into something that I'm head over heels for someone else. It involves trying on different pairs of metaphorical pants before I decide to invest in that one special pair.

It involves days and nights of emotional struggles trying to make sure that I'm making the right decision, because I don't like being stuck in something to which I'm not fully committed.

I knew that seeing Can-Can Boy again, in person, was going to be akin to buying the horse. I knew that having the ability to hold and touch him was going to pull me in, because for the past 6 months, whenever anything happened in either one of our lives we called the each other first. We had developed this intense emotional intimacy from over 800 miles away. Throw being in the same room in the picture and #BAM! Instant connection.

But... I wanted to make sure.

As my mother and I made our way into MrBaseball and Can-Can Boy's state which we'll call Canballia (yes I just made a state name), I received a phone call from MrBaseball, which ended in me agreeing to come visit him in his city, City A. I informed my mother that we were making cross country stop overs to visit the men in my life, which she agreed to since she was, "just along for the ride"- read doesn't want me driving across country alone.

As we pulled into City A, I texted Can-Can Boy to tell him we were going to be a day late and a dollar short because I also heard about some great outlet malls outside of City A.

Getting ready for my "final" date of single-hood took shorter than expected and before I knew it I was whisked away to country saloons and a dueling piano bar, where MrBaseball and I had a drink with Rich from the Big&Rich guys as in the "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy" guy... He bought us a drink... and drank it with us - in the bar, like together.





It was too fuckin' cool.

It was an absolutely great night. He took me on a tour of some of the museums by moonlight  and then returned me to my hotel where I couldn't help but think, "there's something missing." It felt more like two friends hanging out having a beer together than it did fireworks and romance, but it was still a lot of fun.

The next morning we hit the road for City B.

A little after two, we pulled into our hotel, which had been taken over by tiny children in town for a baseball championship (there's some kind of irony/humor here, but I don't know what). I texted Can-CanBoy to tell him my mother had spotted an Ulta next door, so we'd be there till he arrived to grab me. We hadn't been there for 2 seconds before he bust into a makeup store with no remorse, guns-a-blazing.

My mother talked to him for a while, while I made my final makeup purchase decisions (you should see my collection... it's staggering - let's just say he stood there for a while), and then he whisked me outside.

I swear the sun was a little brighter.

As he held the door open I could feel his eyes on me, and when we got just out of eye-sight of my mother he pulled me into him with boyish alacrity, kissing me.

I probably blushed because he touched my cheek, "What are you? Nervous that your mother saw?"
"Just a bit."

He led me to his SUV-car thing and showed me around his hometown, where he went to high school, the "best" bbq, which he promised to take me to later, and then showed me his mom's house (which he was watching while she was out of town) in order to take the dog for a walk.

An actual dog, I promise...

We never actually made it back to the bbq place, because we didn't leave the four walls of the living room. Instead of going out and showing me more of his city, we just sat on the couch - talking, canoodling, and watching tv.

In comparison to the night before, being there with him - watching Golden Girls and Food Network - just relaxing was more than I could have wanted.

You know how when you feel like you're home in the arms of someone - that feeling of complete security and safety and love? As I laid in his arms on the couch, I felt like I'd found more than just a brief flirtation. For the first time, in a long time, I felt like there was no where else I'd rather be.

You see, I have this mantra that I wear around my wrist everyday, "No matter where my travels may lead, paradise is where I am." It's a quote by Voltaire. Usually I live my life in this manner (outside of my writing - haha). The present is what's the most important bit. Why live for the future, when it's uncertain? Why live for the past, when it's already done? Paradise is the hear and now. And in that exact moment, the sentiment couldn't have rung more true.

And after hours and hours of doing nothing but talking and canoodling in each other's company, he took me back to the hotel around 1:30 a.m. or so, and we sat in the car for a while. Him staring at me. Me staring at him, until I broke the silence, "I do love you, you know?"

He leaned across the console and held my face in his hand, his face alight with hope and tenderness mixed with joy, "I love you too."

"How's this going to work?"
"We'll figure it out."
"But when will I see you?"
"We'll figure it out. I can come visit you and vice-versa."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."

Friday, November 11, 2011

Why I'm Still Single (Part 2)

As the summer came to a close, I introduced my mother... for the first time ever... to one of my boyfriends (ex646)... as my actual boyfriend, as in, mom "this is my boyfriend, ex646"... typically if my mother ever met a boyfriend, she knew him before... and I usually said... "oh, haha, noooo he's not my boyfriend... we're just going to prom/homecoming/church camp dance/the concert together."

My father has only known one of my boyfriends... A really handsome guy I dated in high school, we'll call ex73. And aside from ex73 coming over to the band booster concession stand to see where I was or if my pops could drop him off at home, I'm not really sure they had many interactions... because I was always horribly awkward around the boyfriend/parent combo. I actually broke up with ex73 because I felt sooooooo awkward whenever they were in the same place, not because I didn't like him and not because he wasn't awesome (he totally was), but because I felt like a 5 year old playing house with her Barbies, saying, "hey dad, what's this? A barbie? Noooo I'm totally using it as a prop for um... um... a computer science project... yeah... as a um... a model... yeah.... I'm not playing with BARBIES?! PSSSSH. I'm totally grown up because, look, I have a boyfriend!"

I blame this on the fact that my parents never really talked about dating all that much... probably because they didn't know that much about it..

See... they met as sophomores in high school... got married a few months out of high school... and have been together for 38 years on November 16... Aside from talking about their storybook romance (which is soooo sweet, truly) they never really sat my brother or me down to really talk about how to negotiate the world of building emotional intimacy and trust in a loving and fruitful relationship... I just had to guess, by watching.

My mother met ex646 and liked him straight off. She thought he was a sweetheart, and she could tell that he really cared for me.

But 2 days later he was gone back to where ever it is he's from (yes, I know where he's from but I'm not telling), and I got a bit upset. See, he really didn't tell me he was leaving, until I got back to DC from Texas, and I felt alone and confused and after drinking with the men's club hockey team for the better part of 4 hours, I was trashed.

Do you know how many rounds of quarters you have to play in order to beat an entire hockey team... I don't know either, but I can tell you however many rounds you have to play... I played. When I beat the final guy, he literally said, "shit, I've never seen a girl drink that much."

Damn right - I beat them. I have witnesses. I don't know who they are, but I know that there were witnesses, because they high-fived me across campus for two-weeks afterwards... but still no idea who they are. Anyways, for the first time since St. Patricks Day, I was trashed off my ass.



This was also the first time since my cousin died over the summer from drunk driving that I decided it was o.k. to be drinking... which doubled how bad I felt on top of the alcohol, because my, "meh, just a little" turned into an entire keg... and as I huddled in a corner sniffling and pondering why I was a horrible alcoholic (I know... two nights of drunk revelry does not an alcoholic make, but I was naive), I texted Can-Can Boy and told him how I was a horrible person and... blah blah blah. (yep in my early stages I was the apologetic/sad drinking person), and he talked me down (or maybe I imagined all this... it's possible - So. Much. Booze).

After that night, the late night conversations had been established with Can-Can Boy. It was a free for all. Any time of day or night became o.k. to text/call, much to the chagrin of my boyfriend.

"LoRo, why is someone calling you at 3 a.m?"
"LoRo, why is someone texting you at 4 a.m.?"
"LoRo, who is that? Don't they know it's 5 in the frickin' morning?"

He knew what time it was... because he was typically drunk, but his mantra was, 'hey, I started it!'

Gag.

As the semester went on, he'd text during the day too. He'd call during the day. Time didn't matter because for some bizarre reason, we had become close friends... over 800 miles away from each other.

When he went to buy the ring for his girlfriend, and she broke up with him in the parking lot over the phone, who did he call? Me.

Yeah, I still don't know why he called me, but he did, and I answered even though I was in the library for mandated study-time, and I definitely was not supposed to be on my phone in public areas... and I definitely was not supposed to be talking to boys (why? just accept that I wasn't supposed to be doing it, ok).

So as he dealt with the emotional holocaust that occurred due to imagining that he was going to marry some girl, he pulled me in on it, like the lifeboats on the Titanic pulled down by the suction of a massive vessel slipping below the water. And I had lots of guy friends, so I was accustomed to dealing with man drama. So I was there when he needed me, whenever he needed me.

That's when I started answering his phone calls at 2/3/4 a.m.

I'm not sure exactly when, but as the months went on, I realized that I was not in the relationship I wanted to be in, not that I necessarily wanted to be in a relationship with Can-Can Boy, but that what I had wasn't what I needed at that time. So, I trampled the heart of ex646, and we split.

The next 6 months was a free for all of embracing who I was, who I wanted to be, and what I wanted to do.

This involved a lot of booze and boys, lots of boys. Actually it involved any boy that would hold my hand for longer than 2 seconds and could reach me via cell phone. I slipped into the world of midnight make out sessions and cuddling during bad movies (seriously 30 Days of Night? WHO MADE THAT SHIT?!)

When the semester ended, I was by myself the majority of the summer chillin' on campus bored out of my mind, which meant lots of texting/calling/skyping with Can-Can Boy (or anyone who would pay attention to me). And before I knew it. He was professing his love over the telephone, and I didn't know what to do. See, he was drunk and I don't fall in love very easily.

I fall into infatuation faster than you can say, "uh," but love that's very, very different, so to have someone drunkenly spouting out their love for me, was overwhelming when I hadn't seen him in a year.

So I did what every girl would do in my situation and went out to a bar with N for her birthday, I met a guy we'll call MrBaseball who was visiting for the weekend, then I met SexyFace and took him up on his promises - his very drunken promises... but hell I had so many fuckin' kamikazes it seemed like a perfect decision...

A week later I was driving back to Texas from DC (long - ass - drive), and Can-Can Boy convinced me it would be a good decision to see him on my way home. . . because, guys, he "loved" me. So curious to see what was there... I told my mom we needed to make a stop-over.

I need to tell you right now... MrBaseball lived in the same state that Can-Can Boy does... so you can see where this is going.



Why I'm Still Single (Part 1)

The title is a bit misleading, but it's the truth.

The multiple part story that commences does not make me look good... in fact... it makes me look like a horrible human being, but because I haven't had a Friday in the last 3 months where I haven't cried about it... I apparently... need to tell it. I need to get this off my chest.

In the Summer before I became a junior in college, I went on a family vacation...

It was our typical vacation of cruise around the caribbean. It was untypical because it was the first family vacation where my brother was bringing his significant other...

It was an untypical vacation for me, because it was the first week since April 25th that I wouldn't be able to talk to my then boyfriend, Ex646, every day... in fact I wouldn't get to talk to him at all except through quick emails and facebook exchanges on the $.50 a minute internet connection.

I've never been an overly romantic person, so I was dealing with it how I knew how... through engaging in every activity on the ship.

One morning as my brother's GF, Ash, and I sat in the Windjammer cafe overlooking the island of the day, I noticed someone staring at me. I told Ash, but she didn't believe me.

He was sitting by himself, in an orange cut off t-shirt and a pair of sunglasses, and for every intents and purposes, this was my kind of guy. I ignored it however and went about my business.

We had a great day on the island, but when I sat down for dinner later that night... he was sitting at the table next to mine. I distinctly remember that he had NOT been there the night before... and I don't know if you've ever traveled on extensively large cruise ships, but the odds of seeing someone more than once or twice is pretty slim, these things are legit - HUGE. It wasn't seconds before he realized I was there at the table over and for the next two nights I kept nudging Ash, going, is he staring at me?

I know what you're thinking. This girl is paranoid, but after years of perfecting the eyefuck and reel, I know when someone is looking at me, and he was staring.

He smiled. I smiled. And that was that...

or so I thought...

Later in the cruise there was this game show, called the Quest, and it's intended on being a rowdy, raunchy one room scavenger hunt for adults. This guy. This man with the intriguing eyes danced the can-can, shirtless... I pretended to sizzle in a pan like bacon (i.e. act like you have a seizure on the floor infront of 500 of your closest "fans").

Needless to say it's embarrassing, and I watched him do the can-can... shirtless... and I appreciated it.

A few hours after our embarrassing performance, my mother, Ash and I were playing shuffleboard on the deck, and I was celebrating a rather amazing push if I do say so myself, by dancing and shouting and looking like a spastic child... as this guy walks by... laughing... I couldn't stand it... Who does this can-can dancer think he is... laughing at me...

"You don't get to laugh at me can-can boy, I've seen your dance moves." (remember this).

Within the next 10 seconds introductions were made and Can-Can Boy became our 4th in a rousing game of shuffleboard (he was my partner - we killed it).

As the night went on, we played more games, and talked, and talked, and talked, and talked, and talked...

The rest of the cruise was spent seeing him, literally where ever I was... on our excursions (pre-booked, we didn't know he was on them, till we got there!) in the promenade, at dinner, in the casino, EVERYWHERE.

This of course led to more talking about him, about me, about my boyfriend, about his girlfriend, and about our lives... we became as thick as thieves. Seriously... in a period of 5 days, I met Can-Can Boy and formed this crazy friendship... which bordered questionably close to the line of flirtation, which bordered way to close to the line of emotional betrayal.

On the last night, neither one of us, seriously wanted to part from each other... so we stayed up till 5 AM which is when we almost fell asleep chatting in one of the lounges... He walked me back to my room that I shared with my brother and Ash, and we stood there, realizing that the pregnant pause in the air lingered, hovering over us both.

We hugged for a tad too long. We exchanged numbers. He walked away as I entered my room.

I don't remember what happened next, but I know that when we landed in port the next morning to go home, my world was shaken by the horrifying news that one of my cousins had been killed tragically and devastatingly in a car crash...

The night before I found out... my night with Can-Can Boy, would be the last truly care-free night I would have for nearly 6 months. 6 months of constantly pondering is today my last day on earth? Is today the last day I'll talk to my parents, my brother, my friends, and my boyfriend?

When you see how brief life really is... your world cannot begin to compare to how much you have yet to accomplish in it... how much you have yet to love... how much you have yet to do, to be, to experience...

The brevity of a life is something that resonates with me to this day... as such, I put my whole being, my whole self into my relationships be they friendship or romantic, because you never know if this one moment will be the last you have... the last to tell someone how you feel.

The flight home was a somber one, briefly made better by droplets of texts from Can-Can Boy and Ex646... but... it was not an enjoyable one in the least. The tension caused by a family holding back simultaneous tears and all realizing that the other is almost at the brink of hysterically sobbing, is not one I wish on any family in public... ever, but aside from my mother... the odds of seeing someone from my immediate family cry in public is 1 in a googleplex. So it is one that we experienced from Puerto Rico... all the way back home to Little Town, Texas.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Watch Out The Samoan's Throwing a Punch!

It was a weekend of ups.
It was a weekend of downs.

Last week, I drove to Culpeper, Virginia to experience the National Audiovisual Conservation Center "NAVCC."


This is how far away it is from DC... keep in mind I'm on the OPPOSITE side of the city.

The NAVCC is a part of the National Film Registry, which is in charge of saving all films (music videos, short films, cartoons, docs, etc...) which have a significant cultural value.

The films are stored in giant walk-in-freezers of sorts in a building built by the government in order to withstand a nuclear holocaust. Originally it was built to store all the money needed incase of a nuclear winter for everyone east of the Mississippi, but in the early 2000s it underwent a huge redo, including a recreated art-deco theatre, which shows movies every Thurs-Saturday. It's definitely worth checking out if you're a movie buff. Check it out!


This is the "Packard Campus," as they call it. It's the building with the theatre and the storage units. It's also great architecture from the cold war period.

I went there in order to finally meet this man, TheDancingLumberjack, with whom I've been talking with since... early June through email. He's a highly intelligent driven 30-something-year-old man, who owns a hobby farm. He was all-in-all very pleasant to meet in person, but I felt as though... there was (1)No Chemistry and (2)It was kind of low to make me drive all the way out to Culpeper, when I have a 10-6 job, and he doesn't (because seriously... rush hour is a bust) and (3) He looked... NOTHING like his pictures. Seriously I think I was on a date with a completely different man and (4) 6'4" really? You're more like 5'11."

.... maybe I was on a date with a different man...

Anyway....

I can never re-iterate this enough. Do NOT lie about your height. Just Don't. It's not cool.

I'd rank the date a 5 out of 10. The man was pleasant enough - he brought me Pad Thai because I had been on the road since 6 and he knew I'd be hungry, and he remembered I liked Thai food. He was congenial. We didn't struggle for conversation, but something was missing. I don't know what. It might have been my enthusiasm, since I met him at 8, but it does not bode well for his future in my life. I might give in to a 2nd chance, if he's willing to come up to DC, but that's the only way it's happening.

So probably not.

The weekend got off on a rocky start, due to poor planning by my bosses and their refusal to pay someone to drive to Baltimore, who has actually been to Baltimore. After driving for an hour in rush hour "RH" traffic there. I got stuck in RH traffic in Bmore and then RH traffic out of Bmore only to discover something I had in my car needed to go with the delivery.

Let's just say I missed the boat on my Friday plans which were subsequently my Saturday plans as well, which left me poised in the Page on Saturday talking with Zoya, her housemate, and her housemate's lady friend, and her housemate's friend, Bob, who happens to be housemate's with my Bartender. This led to the following conversation...

Bob, "You look really familiar."
blah blah blah
Zoya's housemate, "Yeah, did you talk to Bartender about the game tomorrow?"
Bob, "Yeah, Bartender said..."
Me, "Wait do you mean Bartender Bartender?"
Bob, "Yeah do you know him?"
"Yeah he's a good friend of mine."
"How good of a friend?"
"A friend."
"You, KNOW him KNOW him, don't you."
Me turning bright red.
"GIRL YOU DO! OMG OMG I KNOW HOW I KNOW YOU. You were that NINJA girl who appeared out of nowhere in the foyer!"
Zoya's housemate, "What?"
"She literally... OMG... Bartender and I walk into the house drunk off our asses I close the door, and I walk into the house waiting to use the bathroom and out of NO WHERE, she appears at the foot of the stairs, like a fucking Ninja. I didn't hear her or nothing."

This conversation went on for 30 minutes about how I have ninja stealth. This then digressed into Zoya's housemate and his lady friend leaving us with Bob...

Who then propositioned me for an after party in his bed.

Awkward.

Like... actually awkward.

Later that night Bartender and I were in a fight over something (probably the fact that he encouraged me to take up his housemate on the after party offer) so I was doing my best to piss him off further by flirting with his other friends at the bar, including a large Samoan fellow, whom I'm going to call Tanto (and yes I realize that this name is not politically correct, but if you've seen this guy... you'd call him Tanto too... I'm serious). Now Tanto is a large, large man. He makes Billy Mays look like a Victoria Secret Angel.
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He looked similar to this... Seriously... he makes Dwayne "the Rock" Johnson look like a tiny, tiny dancer.

And I just managed a few winks, and a nudge, and a little wave before it was time to go to the next bar, because where we were was not doing it for us. So off we went to the Mardi Gras Bar, and the night took wing.

An hour in and I see Tanto. He moved bars with us, and he. was. drunk. I'm talking 5 sheets to the wind, hornier than a rhino, drunk.

I walked by him, and he literally grabbed me like a toy pony and kissed me with all the passion reserved for A-list Porn. I slid away professing this need to go to the bathroom, but he found me, again.

He found me again, and he put his junk on my ass, and I couldn't deal. I actually refuse to go to clubs because I cannot stand when guys pop out of nowhere with their own brand of Ninja stealth and toss their junk on my butt... seriously, back off.

The next hour at the bar turned into a dance of me trying to play keep away from Tanto, but failing epically.

I told one of the bartenders, who knows Tanto, and he got Tanto to stand down for a little while, but Tanto, couldn't pull himself away. Sam and I draped ourselves on one of the bar's employees, our good friend Pete. Even though Pete is probably about 5'10, 170lbs, just having him with us deterred Tanto enough that I didn't see him for the rest of the time I was in the bar...

But Pete saw him again... Pete saw him sooner than he wanted to, because as Pete and a few of the bouncers tried telling Tanto it was time to go... Tanto threw a punch that landed Pete in a heap of trouble and cleared the bar faster than you could say, "Fire!"

Shaken and Stirred, I rushed to close my tab, and we piled into a Taxi, keeping in mind to keep away from Tanto who was still out in the streets. As we piled in... we looked back at the bar to witness Tanto slamming his fist repeatedly into ANOTHER man's face, with whom Sam had been talking to earlier...

Lesson of the night... If they're bigger than everyone else in the bar.... stay away from them... There's a difference in having him throw you up against a wall because you like it... and having him throw you up against a wall because he wants it. Lesson learned. Lesson learned.

After the oh-so-exciting night, which shook our shoes off, the following day, I had a really solid date, with GalaxyQuestGuy, which involved hide-n-go-seek, the natural history museum, seeing what I looked like as a homo-florensis human, seeing what he looked like as a neanderthal, the national museum of art, and it was actually the cherry on top to what could have been a complete wash of a weekend.

And I know what y'all are thinking. What did I look like as homo-florensis...
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ONE DAMN SEXY BEAST, THAT'S WHAT!

If you want to see what you look like as a Neanderthal or a Homo-Florensis, check out the Iphone or Droid App called Meanderthal... those Smithsonian Peeps are so clever!

And no it's not lost on me that Homo-florensis me looks very similar to Tanto... the irony abounds.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

OssumOctober - Sex, Drugs, and Rock n Roll... ok No Drugs

So after professing my desires at the beginning of this month, I wanted to wrap up the lose ends of the month and let everyone know the valuable lessons that I have learned about dating in DC. Because trust me. I have learned SO MUCH.

We'll run through this blog post by blog post.

POST 1
What was OssumOctober? Brief roundup For the month of OssumOctober, I - LoRo will go on no dates with, hang out with, or text, or call, or message, or tweet, or email, or snail mail any man who does not initiate the contact first. If I have to chase them, then they're more than likely 100% unavailable, emotionally or otherwise.

NotBen who was mentioned back and September, then reared his ugly little face in the Me-Like-You Basics October post - has never contacted me again. Probably for the best, because as Jane Bigham from Drop Dead Diva would say - "I deserve better," because let's be real. I do. And to be real, we all deserve better than to be treated like we don't exist. We're people damn it!

Mini-lesson: Don't sell yourself short. You're awesome and if someone doesn't realize it, don't waste your time trying to make them realize it.

However, I have discovered that the me-like-you basics work best when superheated and over flowing, i.e. Eyes Locked over the bar with a hair toss (exposing the neck), a coy smile and a kiss on the cheek. Match. Set. Point. Everytime. This signature move will literally redeem all past wrongs. Trust me.

Because seriously, he'll never know you [still] harbor feelings for him if you don't make it painfully obvious that you're INTO him. What you think is "oh so obvious," usually is oh so unnoticeable.

Lesson 1
LET THEM KNOW YOU'RE INTO THEM. Don't leave them guessing.

Don't think, "God, they'll figure it out if I bat my eyelashes enough." Let them know. Hug them a little too long, touch them in suggestive manners, touch them in errogenous zones (o.k. maybe not that one, you could get called for harrassment), but if it's been years and they still have no idea, grab the sexy beast by both arms and say, "GOD DAMNIT I LIKE YOU."

If they don't know, they wont know to show you that they're into you too, or dispel your attractions when they show you their hidden wedding band. Just saying.


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POST 2
Halloween night, MrStateDepartment and I had a really nice, long skype chat, and it was really just what I needed on the one year anniversary of being chased down by two assailants in my parking lot.

I don't know what's sadder the fact that none of my close friends or my actual FAMILY thought that I might need a - 'chin up LoRo,' or the fact that the only person who remembered lives 3000 miles away. Enough with the pity party, back to the point.

He's settling in nicely while really enjoying the whole halloween thing in a foreign country, though he's horribly disappointed by the lack of trick-or-treaters. He did however dress his dog up like a turtle... it was bizarre to see.

I still miss him every now and then when I think about how I'd like to escape my life for a few hours and traipse over to Arlington to be treated like a princess and play with his puppy, but I know that holding onto something that wasn't meant to be is futile, so on I move.

Lesson Two
Know when it's time to move onto another potential.

Harboring feelings for someone who isn't interested in you, or someone who no longer is within reaching distance isn't healthy, especially when they don't know you exist, and you don't want to take my advice on lesson one. There are plenty of gorgeous, fun potentials out there with hearts of gold and compassion to spare. Waiting around for that ONE guy whom you've always loved isn't going to make him love you. Know when to cut your losses, and when it's time to put your energy into someone new.

You're awesome, don't sell yourself short thinking that, "he/she is the only guy for you and if they'd only get to know you... they'd know.
"


I'm not saying that you can't have crushes, dude, I have crushes all the time, but harboring unspoken feelings for them and obsessing over one person continuously for months upon months, isn't healthy... it's a tv show, and it's obsessive. Let them know or move on to the next one.

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Which brings me to...

POST 3
Hooking up with my ultimate crush, Goal, was... crushing. I'm going to be real with y'all. Having someone profess all these feelings of admiration and crushy-ness, followed by an amazing night, followed by brunch, followed by one of the best text-ersations I've had in a long time, only to discover he probably deleted my phone number immediately after he made me put it in his phone, is devastating.

Because when I texted him the following Monday, and we had this epic conversation where I laughed and laughed, and he said that he was dying from laughter, I was so friggin' excited. I thought, "this feels right." Wrong.

Right around closing of business he said, "sooo, a few of us are going camping this weekend if you wanna come."
"Sure sounds like it could be fun." (I was flying on the fricking moon, I called EVERYBODY I could reach, freaking-out-ecstatic.)
"It'll be the regular group, x,y,z,a,b,c,l,m,n,o, &p."
I didn't respond because I didn't know any of those people... So I went over to Blair's to ask how she would respond, but she didn't either... then he texted again...
"Could you shoot me your email so that I can add you to the email chain going around?"
"email.address"
Nothing from him.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Me, "did you think I was someone else?"

He thought I was a long lost frat brother.... What did I do wrong? Technically nothing. I was myself, but my dating karma disagreed. I broke OssumOctober. I texted him first. WHICH WAS MY PROBLEM. The one time I broke OssumOctober... the one time I stepped up and texted a guy first in this whole month (aside from wishing a few guy friends, "happy birthdays"), I had it blow up in my face in the most epic of ways.

Which brings me to lesson number three.
Ladies... if he likes you, has your number, and wants to hang out. HE'LL TEXT YOU. If he has lost it. He'll find a way to find you. Men today are intelligent, resourceful, and determined when it comes to pursuing a woman they like. If he finds you worth his time - he'll make sure to spend his time with you. If you're wondering whether he's going to call and it's day 3 or god forbid day 4... he's not going to, unless he's a neurosurgeon with a full table full of brain - BUT HE'S THE OUTLIER.


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I'm skipping over POST 4 because that was for a friend.

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POST 5
That lesson has become so-fucking-apparent because while Goal never did text again... FunkyHatGuy - did. He wanted to hang out, he saw his opportunity and he went for it, granted he later turned out to be a giant douche, but he went for it. He took the chance. If they're worth your time. They'll take the chance. If they want to be with you, they'll take the chance. Shy or not, they'll do it.

Kryptonite has yet to come down to visit, but I'm hopeful he'll make the trek soon... so that we can figure out what cosmic forces keep pulling us together...

Lars... what to say about him. He's a great guy. A perfect gentleman, but he's still trying to find himself, and since I am too, I don't think I particularly want to struggle to find my bearings with another struggling artist of sorts, because to be perfectly honest the artist temperament does not work for me. I also have some issues with him never asking me what movie I want to see... if that makes sense... I think my drawbacks with him are on too many levels to really delve into. He also disappears for weeks at a time then sends a text out of the blue asking me to make plans with him - THAT NIGHT. He might have also drunk dialed me last night... um... k.

When I'm in a relationship or steady dating gig, spontaneity is one of my favorite aspects of a partner, I like to know that my life wont be one continuous droning of x, y, and z. However, if we're still knocking on the door to date 3... spontaneity shouldn't even be in your dating vocabulary. If you're asking a girl out... for plans... THAT NIGHT, you really should reevaluate your dating strategy. I like to be treated like I'm special... I think I deserve to have a little more thought put into a date versus, "oh hey I was bored and thought that maybe... you know?!"

FunkyHatGuy - what can I say... he had absolutely no compassion after I had a car wreck and couldn't help but to meet him 30 mins late at his apartment for football and drinks... and there was just an overall lack of care put into getting to know me. I can recognize that you weren't raised in the south, but when I've just had my brains rattled by some drunk biddie and you have the glass door open in the middle of a cold front... I'd like a little more compassion when I ask where the blankets are versus, "get one your damn self." Goodbye.

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POST 6
Halloweekend was a shit show. Halloweek was a shit show. So many things happened... so many things, which included never having to speak to Mr. Tennessee ever again, experiencing the double sided sword of keeping company with a promiscuous bartender, and overloading myself over at Rumors. Seriously... It was like a sauced frat party in there.

When Sexyface and I were talking later in the night after the bar closed, he asked "so what do you think of the bar?"
"People go to Rumors for dancing and trouble. Lots of trouble."
"So do you like my bar? Do you like dancing and trouble?"
"What is this a customer service satisfaction survey? I didn't know y'all made house calls... "
"Yes, I need to know what you think..."
"I'm making out with you. I think I'm down for the trouble part. Trust me mr. survey - I. Am. Satisfied."

But after experiencing the fruits of the Rumors loom and essentially dodging two requests for my number that night,

I've learned lesson number four.
Don't give out your number unless you actually want the person to call.
If you give out your number, you're hoping someone will use it... and if you give out your number and hope that person doesn't use it... then you're going to need me to explain Murphy's Law, which states the one you want will not call, but the one you don't want will never stop blowing up your phone. Trust me.


On Saturday night I was looking for a good time.



I was not looking for a boyfriend courtesy of my favorite dating service Rumors, (seriously I need a tattoo that says, "If found return to Rumors - They know me there"). Somehow I got the barback's phone number... what?! I asked all my friends, they have no idea when this happened... That night, I was looking to hang out with my friends, drink, party, have fun.

Worrying about whether some guy is going to call me the next day is not fun. It's nerve wracking, because if he does - I'll go out with him find out we have no sober chemistry and then be down 3 hours of my life, OR he'll call then I'll wrack my brain with what to wear and how cute I should look only to get there and discover he looks NOTHING like I remember, or if he doesn't call, then I'm pissed off because some drunk dumb-dumb didn't call me back and then I'll question my self worth. It's not worth it.


But anyway... that's the round up of the month... there are many many more stories I could toss in there, but I'm sure the people involved wouldn't want them in there, so I'm leaving them out.

Other guys not mentioned in my October blog posts who have also been circling around, and you can definitely look forward to posts about, are GalaxyQuestGuy and the Dancing Lumberjack. I'll probably compare their two first dates next Monday!

If you're not already follow me @SingleDC!