Tuesday, July 31, 2007
SiQ and Young'n
So, the SiQ recently had a problem with a girlfriend. A problem which begged the question, why are women freakin' crazy?
The short version of the back story, is that she totally made out with guy, whom she thought was single. I guess, technically, he was single at the time. But then his literally crazy girlfriend caught wind of this, (cause she tricked him into telling her), and started hitting her head against the wall until he promised to take her back. Then, this moron (the guy, not the girlfriend) tells the SiQ about it, and asks her to speak tot he gf and tell her that nothing all that serious happened. I know! I thought the same thing -- clearly he has a severe lack of common sense. Anyway, the gf eventually gets the SiQ's phone number and tells the SiQ not to talk to the guy anymore. (Is this sounding vaguely familiar? So, apparently the engineer's girlfriend isn't the only psychob---ahem--idiot out there.)
Now, I beg you, why on earth would you go through all that for some dude? Honestly?! Somebody get that girl some Prozac. Anyway, does anyone know a good investigator? We need to find a picture of the gf to make sure she isn't stalking the SiQ.
In other news, the young'n is coming down for a visit. He isn't necessarily specifically coming to visit me, because he's coming with other people. But there is definitely a plan to see me. He's asked if he could stay with me though (on my couch, perverts). I'm pretty apprehensive on that point. But here's the weird thing. There are other people I'd let stay here without a second thought. There's 2DP, of course. But that's so not the same situation, he being my future backup husband and all. And, there was the engineer. I mean, think about it, I went and stayed in the ATL with the engineer, and then again in Seattle, and I hadn't been talking to him nearly as long as the young'n. And no one blinked an eye -- not even my mother for cryin' out loud. So what's the deal with the young'n? Why is it so hard to let him stay on my couch?
Hmmm...given the fact that this city is far more dangerous than Madtown, maybe I should let him stay. He could scare away all the scary people. AND he offered to cook and clean. That would totally be worth sharing, wouldn't it?
The short version of the back story, is that she totally made out with guy, whom she thought was single. I guess, technically, he was single at the time. But then his literally crazy girlfriend caught wind of this, (cause she tricked him into telling her), and started hitting her head against the wall until he promised to take her back. Then, this moron (the guy, not the girlfriend) tells the SiQ about it, and asks her to speak tot he gf and tell her that nothing all that serious happened. I know! I thought the same thing -- clearly he has a severe lack of common sense. Anyway, the gf eventually gets the SiQ's phone number and tells the SiQ not to talk to the guy anymore. (Is this sounding vaguely familiar? So, apparently the engineer's girlfriend isn't the only psychob---ahem--idiot out there.)
Now, I beg you, why on earth would you go through all that for some dude? Honestly?! Somebody get that girl some Prozac. Anyway, does anyone know a good investigator? We need to find a picture of the gf to make sure she isn't stalking the SiQ.
In other news, the young'n is coming down for a visit. He isn't necessarily specifically coming to visit me, because he's coming with other people. But there is definitely a plan to see me. He's asked if he could stay with me though (on my couch, perverts). I'm pretty apprehensive on that point. But here's the weird thing. There are other people I'd let stay here without a second thought. There's 2DP, of course. But that's so not the same situation, he being my future backup husband and all. And, there was the engineer. I mean, think about it, I went and stayed in the ATL with the engineer, and then again in Seattle, and I hadn't been talking to him nearly as long as the young'n. And no one blinked an eye -- not even my mother for cryin' out loud. So what's the deal with the young'n? Why is it so hard to let him stay on my couch?
Hmmm...given the fact that this city is far more dangerous than Madtown, maybe I should let him stay. He could scare away all the scary people. AND he offered to cook and clean. That would totally be worth sharing, wouldn't it?
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Courthouse guy, updated
Me: "Hey." (Internal monologue: "don't roll your eyes, don't roll your eyes, don't roll your eyes."
Rubix: "Hey."
Me: (Internal monologue: "oh good, he's walking away. That wasn't awkward. Phew. Oh crap, he's coming back. Don't sit down, don't sit down, don't sit....crap.")
Rubix: "So how's it going?"
Me: "Good. You?"
Rubix: "Not bad. What are you here for?"
Me: "Got an emergency motion. What about you, what are you doing on the 15th floor??"
Rubix: "Oh, I work all over. And I have a trial that might go, next door."
Me: "Ah."
Rubix: "You never called me."
Me: "You didn't call me either." (Internal monologue: "Is he kidding?")
Rubix: "Was I supposed to?"
Me: "No. I was just saying, the phone works both ways." (Internal monologue: "Wait, did he think we had a good date?")
Rubix: "Well, I made the last two calls."
Me: "Well I wasn't keeping track."
Rubix: "Me neither, I was just making my argument."
Me: "Ah." (Internal monologue: "oh yeah, that's why we'll never go out; you can't tell the difference between a trial and life. Gah! You are so ridiculous....please call my motion, please call my motion, please call....oh good; he has to run away."
Rubix: "Hey."
Me: (Internal monologue: "oh good, he's walking away. That wasn't awkward. Phew. Oh crap, he's coming back. Don't sit down, don't sit down, don't sit....crap.")
Rubix: "So how's it going?"
Me: "Good. You?"
Rubix: "Not bad. What are you here for?"
Me: "Got an emergency motion. What about you, what are you doing on the 15th floor??"
Rubix: "Oh, I work all over. And I have a trial that might go, next door."
Me: "Ah."
Rubix: "You never called me."
Me: "You didn't call me either." (Internal monologue: "Is he kidding?")
Rubix: "Was I supposed to?"
Me: "No. I was just saying, the phone works both ways." (Internal monologue: "Wait, did he think we had a good date?")
Rubix: "Well, I made the last two calls."
Me: "Well I wasn't keeping track."
Rubix: "Me neither, I was just making my argument."
Me: "Ah." (Internal monologue: "oh yeah, that's why we'll never go out; you can't tell the difference between a trial and life. Gah! You are so ridiculous....please call my motion, please call my motion, please call....oh good; he has to run away."
Crimes against Fashion
Yesterday, I saw the most atrocious outfit ever. Picture a swimsuit from the 1960s. You know, the kind they always show in the pictures from Miss America of yesteryear. They are essentially short shorts and a tube top all in one piece. Ok, now loosen that up. Now, picture the loose, swimsuit-like shape in white cotton with black polka-dots. And then, add a drawstring at the thigh, to adjust the outside of the shorts to be shorter than the inner-thigh side. And THAT, is the exact outfit I saw yesterday at the eL stop. And, in case you're wondering, there was no beach or gym anywhere near there. Not that this is where that chick was headed. Perhaps she was headed to the proverbial red-light district.
In other news, I've become a fashion hypocrite. I am loathed to admit it...but I had a moment of weakness. I've always thought that the short shorts (what my mom would call hotpants) worn out to the club was an odd choice. But then, I was having an excellent leg day, and so I decided to wear a pair of recently purchased hot pants, mimicking an outfit some unknown celeb had on in the RedEye. Anyway, I had the black hotpants, the black buttondown (worn unbuttoned down to there), and the fabulous gold and bronze shoes. And then I further accessorized with big gold earrings, gold and bronze bracelet, and a gold and black necklace. Then I wore the hair up.
In front of my trick mirror, I looked fabulous. Then, I walked outside, and thought "oh good heavens what have I done?!!? I sooooo do NOT have the legs for this!" My nervousness was further cemented by the catcalls I got from the hoodrats in the passing vehicles. But then, I remembered the book "Beautylicious" which said when you're wearing an outfit, do it with confidence. So I squared up my shoulders, and walked proud (while secretly hoping I didn't look like I was cheap and/or easy). When I finally got to the party, I got compliments from other chicks. Which is a clear indication that maybe I need to eat crow about the short shorts worn out for a night on the town.
In other news, I've become a fashion hypocrite. I am loathed to admit it...but I had a moment of weakness. I've always thought that the short shorts (what my mom would call hotpants) worn out to the club was an odd choice. But then, I was having an excellent leg day, and so I decided to wear a pair of recently purchased hot pants, mimicking an outfit some unknown celeb had on in the RedEye. Anyway, I had the black hotpants, the black buttondown (worn unbuttoned down to there), and the fabulous gold and bronze shoes. And then I further accessorized with big gold earrings, gold and bronze bracelet, and a gold and black necklace. Then I wore the hair up.
In front of my trick mirror, I looked fabulous. Then, I walked outside, and thought "oh good heavens what have I done?!!? I sooooo do NOT have the legs for this!" My nervousness was further cemented by the catcalls I got from the hoodrats in the passing vehicles. But then, I remembered the book "Beautylicious" which said when you're wearing an outfit, do it with confidence. So I squared up my shoulders, and walked proud (while secretly hoping I didn't look like I was cheap and/or easy). When I finally got to the party, I got compliments from other chicks. Which is a clear indication that maybe I need to eat crow about the short shorts worn out for a night on the town.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Courthouse Guy
So here's the story with courthouse guy. We met up at a pub/pizza joint not that far away from where I live. I finally got the chance to try out an outfit I'd been itching to try for quite some time. (army green tshirt dress from Old Navy, gold necklace, hair up, brown sandal wedges.) I looked rather fabulous. He was still wearing a lovely pinstriped suit, presumably he came straight from work. This was a pleasant surprise, because I expected him to be in tshirt and shorts.
Anyway, I went with an open mind. But sadly, this date was not meant to go well. It started out alright. We were talking about work and such. He asked me how many motions I'd had, and he'd had tons and tons more than myself. And he was giving me a hard time about that, but in a joking way. But then he brought it up again later, asking how many trials I'd had (0), and then telling me how many he'd had (oodles). So, I said "why are you counting?" You know, good-naturedly. Then, he brought it up, AGAIN! And I said, well, it's good for our company if our insureds aren't running about crashing into things...it keeps premiums down. And he said, yeah, we're high-volume, so we get tons of stuff. Then, he brought it up AGAIN!!!! At this point, I'd had it. So, I said "well, my firm isn't full of ambulance chasers, so I couldn't possibly have as many trials and motions as you." So he finally shut up.
The other problem he had, was waxing poetic about his vehicles. That's right, I said vehicles. Apparently he has 2 motorcycles and 2 cars. So, he was waxing poetic about his 1997 Mustang (which is not a classic, incidentally); and he mentioned how he wanted to put Cobra wheels on his car. And I said, "oooh, I love the Cobra Mustang." Which I do. So he went on for a few more minutes, and said "you don't even know what I'm talking about do you?" Excuse me? Did I not just say that I love the Cobra? My response was, "yes, in fact, I do. I remember the first time I saw the Cobra, I was in high school and..." Notice how I didn't finish my sentence there. Yeah, that's because he cut me off to say: "well, they were only out between 1995 - 1999." (I may have the years wrong). So I say, "that's good, because I was in high school between 1995-1999, which is when I saw a Cobra for the first time." But, the coup de gras, so to speak, was when he asked what kind of car I drove, and I triumphantly, and smugly, said "an '02 Mustang." Thankyouverymuch. Gah!
At any rate, he paid for dinner (with a $50); thinks the internet is a fad, doesn't own a computer, but owns a big flat screen t.v. That's right ladies....he's still single! (Excuse me while I swoon). So, he hasn't called, and I'm surely not calling him. I'm almost willing to be he calls me, just because he expects that I'm going to trip all over myself to go out with him. It could be fun just to screw with his head. But we'll see. :P
Anyway, I went with an open mind. But sadly, this date was not meant to go well. It started out alright. We were talking about work and such. He asked me how many motions I'd had, and he'd had tons and tons more than myself. And he was giving me a hard time about that, but in a joking way. But then he brought it up again later, asking how many trials I'd had (0), and then telling me how many he'd had (oodles). So, I said "why are you counting?" You know, good-naturedly. Then, he brought it up, AGAIN! And I said, well, it's good for our company if our insureds aren't running about crashing into things...it keeps premiums down. And he said, yeah, we're high-volume, so we get tons of stuff. Then, he brought it up AGAIN!!!! At this point, I'd had it. So, I said "well, my firm isn't full of ambulance chasers, so I couldn't possibly have as many trials and motions as you." So he finally shut up.
The other problem he had, was waxing poetic about his vehicles. That's right, I said vehicles. Apparently he has 2 motorcycles and 2 cars. So, he was waxing poetic about his 1997 Mustang (which is not a classic, incidentally); and he mentioned how he wanted to put Cobra wheels on his car. And I said, "oooh, I love the Cobra Mustang." Which I do. So he went on for a few more minutes, and said "you don't even know what I'm talking about do you?" Excuse me? Did I not just say that I love the Cobra? My response was, "yes, in fact, I do. I remember the first time I saw the Cobra, I was in high school and..." Notice how I didn't finish my sentence there. Yeah, that's because he cut me off to say: "well, they were only out between 1995 - 1999." (I may have the years wrong). So I say, "that's good, because I was in high school between 1995-1999, which is when I saw a Cobra for the first time." But, the coup de gras, so to speak, was when he asked what kind of car I drove, and I triumphantly, and smugly, said "an '02 Mustang." Thankyouverymuch. Gah!
At any rate, he paid for dinner (with a $50); thinks the internet is a fad, doesn't own a computer, but owns a big flat screen t.v. That's right ladies....he's still single! (Excuse me while I swoon). So, he hasn't called, and I'm surely not calling him. I'm almost willing to be he calls me, just because he expects that I'm going to trip all over myself to go out with him. It could be fun just to screw with his head. But we'll see. :P
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
I missed Dateline for this?
So my date with Rubix was tonight. Ugh. He's such a lawyer. I'm still scratching my head. He was oh so arrogant. I think I may need to cut lawyers off the list of potentials. But more on this guy later.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Gross
There are a million ways to get grossed out. My particular rant of the day is smoking. Smoking is a truly repugnant habit. This is not a post to preach about the dangers of smoking. This is a post about how smelly and disgusting it is. When I was walking home today, I was stuck behind a guy who was sucking on his carcinogen stick. The smoke kept wafting backwards, the ash were floating on the breeze. Ack! It was disgusting.
And don't even get me started on smoking in bars. I know that smoking and drinking go hand in hand. Tons of people say that smoking enhances the buzz. I've even been known to partake in a drag or two -- but I didn't inhale. No really! I was just fascinated with the Smokin' Up tour at the time, and so I'd take a drag and blow it outwards and upwards without actually getting any smoke in my lungs. It did look cool, but my smoker-friends would yell at me: "You're wasting a perfectly good cigarette!" Anyway, none of this condones allowing smoking in bars. It's bad enough that you come home all sweaty from shakin' that groove thang. Do we really need to compound the situation by adding the revolting smell of stale cigarette smoke. The smoke is far worse anyway, it actually gets in your hair. Gah!
That's it. Smokers are soooooo very evicted from my island. How'd they get on my island anyway?
And don't even get me started on smoking in bars. I know that smoking and drinking go hand in hand. Tons of people say that smoking enhances the buzz. I've even been known to partake in a drag or two -- but I didn't inhale. No really! I was just fascinated with the Smokin' Up tour at the time, and so I'd take a drag and blow it outwards and upwards without actually getting any smoke in my lungs. It did look cool, but my smoker-friends would yell at me: "You're wasting a perfectly good cigarette!" Anyway, none of this condones allowing smoking in bars. It's bad enough that you come home all sweaty from shakin' that groove thang. Do we really need to compound the situation by adding the revolting smell of stale cigarette smoke. The smoke is far worse anyway, it actually gets in your hair. Gah!
That's it. Smokers are soooooo very evicted from my island. How'd they get on my island anyway?
Monday, July 16, 2007
Rubix Cube Called
And he called a week late. Hmmm. I guess he had a pseudo-valid reason, and frankly, I'm ready to go out with someone who has the desire to buy me dinner. So we're going out on Wednesday. Today's conversation went far better than the last one -- so maybe he just needs to relax a bit. Okay, I'm officially having an open mind. Let go and let flow, right?
In other news, the young'n is getting close to far surpassing the engineer's surprising longevity. He'll randomly call me quite often, in fact. Unlike last summer, I don't have all day to talk to him, but we still manage to get in quality conversations. I get the slight feeling that he's becoming a bit attached. It's cute.
Also, I've given up on making out with Afro guy. Which is sad, since he was my most recent prospect. And no, I am so NOT going to kiss Rubix cube. Shudder. Oooh, that feeling does not bode well for the date does it? Meh. It happens.
In other news, the young'n is getting close to far surpassing the engineer's surprising longevity. He'll randomly call me quite often, in fact. Unlike last summer, I don't have all day to talk to him, but we still manage to get in quality conversations. I get the slight feeling that he's becoming a bit attached. It's cute.
Also, I've given up on making out with Afro guy. Which is sad, since he was my most recent prospect. And no, I am so NOT going to kiss Rubix cube. Shudder. Oooh, that feeling does not bode well for the date does it? Meh. It happens.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
It's a good day
Today, on perezhilton.com, there are pictures of Sexy Sexy Shemar Moore...Naked. Shemar. Don't-look-directly-at-him-because-he's-so-effen-hot Moore. Is. Naked. On. perezhilton.com. It's a good good day.
Yesterday, however, was a terrible day. Now, I know I said I was totally into the cutie @Goodbar two Saturdays ago. And I know I said I really wanted to make-out with afro-guy from two Sundays ago. And I know I've declared my love many-a times for other men. However, yesterday, I saw the Man of My Dreams. He was definitely THE ONE. I was walking back to my office from court when I saw him. And time stopped. Seriously. I was stepping off the curb when I looked up, and saw a caramel-toffee colored brother in a pink buttondown with coordinating tie. And a dark jacket, over square shoulders. He had the tightest fade in life. And, to top it off, he was driving a sage/mint green Land Rover. Good heavens I'm going to faint just thinking about the man. For reference, he looked like the guy from the Cadillac commercial where they're singing "Movin' on Up."
I definitely took a second look. And, quite frankly, so did he. But alas, he was driving the opposite direction of where I was going. So what did I do? Are you kidding me? I freakin' changed my course of direction is what I did. He even ended up pulling over and disappearing into a building across the street from where I was standing. Standing and dialing, mind you, attempting to look like I had a legitimate reason for being there. Do you know that NO ONE answered their phone? Not one person. All of you! Useless! *Sigh.* So off I went, back to the office, with a broken heart and blistered feet (I realized I was wearing shoes that were due for retirement). Anyway, I'm never going to be able to find a man now. No one is going to be able to measure up to my man in the mint green truck. *Sniff. Better to have love and lost my arse.
Yesterday, however, was a terrible day. Now, I know I said I was totally into the cutie @Goodbar two Saturdays ago. And I know I said I really wanted to make-out with afro-guy from two Sundays ago. And I know I've declared my love many-a times for other men. However, yesterday, I saw the Man of My Dreams. He was definitely THE ONE. I was walking back to my office from court when I saw him. And time stopped. Seriously. I was stepping off the curb when I looked up, and saw a caramel-toffee colored brother in a pink buttondown with coordinating tie. And a dark jacket, over square shoulders. He had the tightest fade in life. And, to top it off, he was driving a sage/mint green Land Rover. Good heavens I'm going to faint just thinking about the man. For reference, he looked like the guy from the Cadillac commercial where they're singing "Movin' on Up."
I definitely took a second look. And, quite frankly, so did he. But alas, he was driving the opposite direction of where I was going. So what did I do? Are you kidding me? I freakin' changed my course of direction is what I did. He even ended up pulling over and disappearing into a building across the street from where I was standing. Standing and dialing, mind you, attempting to look like I had a legitimate reason for being there. Do you know that NO ONE answered their phone? Not one person. All of you! Useless! *Sigh.* So off I went, back to the office, with a broken heart and blistered feet (I realized I was wearing shoes that were due for retirement). Anyway, I'm never going to be able to find a man now. No one is going to be able to measure up to my man in the mint green truck. *Sniff. Better to have love and lost my arse.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Kicking it into high gear
Ok, you win. I've officially cleaned up my resume and sent it off to MMM. Turns out he may be useful after all.
In unrelated news, I figured that I would do some pre-celebratory shopping, and finally purchased the fabulous art work for my hallway. Hooray!
In more unrelated news, I have a date this week. I met the guy at the courthouse. His name was originally courthouse guy, but martamack re-named him last week. The short version of the story is that last week, I couldn't remember the guy's whole last name, just the beginning, which is Rube-something. So, as I struggled to come up with the rest of the syllables, martamack just started calling him Rubix cube. Right before he predicted that Rubix cube had no shot. Bummer for Rubix cube. But, at least he got a good nickname out of it.
On that same note, I've been attempting to plot a way to find Afro-guy so I can make out with him. He works at a bar up the road, but I have no valid reason to go up there. And he hasn't called me. I'm thinking I've officially gotten the blow off, but, since I don't actually want to date this guy, I see no harm in continuing my quest for a makeout. :)
In unrelated news, I figured that I would do some pre-celebratory shopping, and finally purchased the fabulous art work for my hallway. Hooray!
In more unrelated news, I have a date this week. I met the guy at the courthouse. His name was originally courthouse guy, but martamack re-named him last week. The short version of the story is that last week, I couldn't remember the guy's whole last name, just the beginning, which is Rube-something. So, as I struggled to come up with the rest of the syllables, martamack just started calling him Rubix cube. Right before he predicted that Rubix cube had no shot. Bummer for Rubix cube. But, at least he got a good nickname out of it.
On that same note, I've been attempting to plot a way to find Afro-guy so I can make out with him. He works at a bar up the road, but I have no valid reason to go up there. And he hasn't called me. I'm thinking I've officially gotten the blow off, but, since I don't actually want to date this guy, I see no harm in continuing my quest for a makeout. :)
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