Why does everything taste better after midnight?

A question posed in the IKEA commercials. I'd like to offer a few theories:

1. You can eat guilt-free, because no one's going to see you eating.
2. Because calories absorbed in the middle of the night don't count against you.
3. Because you can evenly spread the Points as necessary to help you stay in your w.w. limit.
4. Because nobody saw you, they can't prove anything.
5. Because you have the entire following day to make up for it at the gym.

In other news, spring has nearly sprung. *Sigh. Time to start contemplating bikini season. Not that I'll be wearing one, since I don't swim. But less layers means less covering. Rats.

Fall Fashion Week

And so, Fall Fashion Week was a few weeks ago in Paris. (For those amateurs with us, that's the week designers show Fall fashions, not a confused expression of what season it actually is). Here's the update:

Curvy Girls continue to rejoice! Wide leg pants will be with us for yet another season. Buy them up while you can because goodness knows that they may be but a fleeting dream. As you should know by now, the wide leg pants should NOT be paired with big, wide, flowy tops. Keep it fitted girls. Show that purty rack of yours. (ha! I'm so politically incorrect).

Not as joyfully, we have another season with those spawn of Satan skinny pants. In spite of living with them for 2 seasons now, I still have no idea who is meant to be wearing these pants. Sadly, many a women continue to attempt and fail. But, if you happen to be toothpicked sized, then I have a question and a piece of advice. Question -- why are you reading this blog? Advice -- pair it with the tunic, or the wide flowy top. Goodness knows you need something to fake a figure.

I've starting paying more attention to dresses, now that I have officially decided to become a more "girly" girl. And, there are a few new styles to be introduced. First, the shirtdress. Generally, it's a button down dress with a full-flowing nature. Unfortunately, this appears to be a style that can go very very right OR very very wrong. This is actually a spring style, but just an FYI for you. :)

Belts are going to be hot again for the season. This is likely to cause a shopping fetish for me, the way it did circa 2k1 when the fringe belts were in and I ended up with half a dozen too many. This season we're looking for wide, waist-cinching belts. Look for patents, bright colors, generally any funky belt that will bring attention to your fabulously narrowed waist. (Even if you had to fake that waist, a feat infinitely easier thanks to the wide belt).

As for color, I'm seeing purples and blues. Hooray for the cool tones, making you an even cooler chick. Speaking of being too cool for school, don't forget your fab sunglasses. Apparently, they are one of the "it" accessories for fall. It's a good thing, because that darn ozone layer isn't getting any thicker.

Basically, we're seeing a fall season that doesn't fix what ain't broke (skinny pants notwithstanding). Buy now and wear later, because it's probably on sale right now. And if you're like me, and the pants are (finally) starting to fit, then buy often. The wide trend may fade, but well fitting trousers are always in style.

Hormonally Challenged

Ok, PMS is a long-standing butt of many - a - jokes. I've been blessed that as a normal course of business I don't suffer from PMS. Now is not one of those times. This year is the first time I've ever suffered such horrible horrible fate. Now I know why it's so hysterical to watch. I have watched myself (in horror) as I was unable to control my own emotions. Mood swings for no apparent reason is not such a hot time. Plus the low periods and the spikes of happiness, boy-craziness, munchies and self-esteem is really quite taxing. Not to mention tiring. I've had little desire to do much other than sleep.

Frankly, I think it's nothing a good box of cookies and caramel corn couldn't cure. Hear that out there? Get on Harry and David's catalogue and start ordering! I'm not seeing any point and clicking. Darn it. Why are all my friends, family and co-workers of family broke or not the present sending type? Hmm, I guess this is why everyone told me to get my own job. :)

Generation Gap

So, the SiQ and I have been mutually commiserating about being single gals with no prospects. Something the people living in our parents' generation don't seem to understand is that our generation is all about getting laid. Although everyone isn't easy, everyone does expect to go all the way sometime before the deep and meaningful relationship begins. In fact, the new generation is all about fulfilling the total body of a relationship. Thus, when you are on board the abstinence train, finding a significant other is significantly more difficult. Apparently, there's a vibe you give off. The SiQ has been told that she's the marrying type, while standing in a bar. And normally, that's a compliment; but for the fact that said guy is not looking for a wife. He's looking for a do it in the Burger King bathroom type.

Before I decided to hi-jack the SiQ story, there was something else I meant to blog about. Another single gal problem, which is the phantom hot guy. I see him all the time. Have you? You're walking/standing/riding about, minding your own business, and you see this uber-hot guy. And then you turn around, and he's gone. Where'd he go? You didn't get a chance to wink at him! He didn't even look your way. Dang it. He's gone. Guess that virtuous vibe scared him off. And before you say it, yes this can happen at church. Know why? Because church guys are either creepy weirdos or trying to get laid (or both, as it happens). That's right. They're no different than your average joe on the street. Sad isn't it?

D'ah well. You can always go back to your ninja ex can't you? So what if he drives you to drinking? What's alcoholism in the face of getting some on a regular basis?

Flowers & Love

So, today there were many many women toting flowers home from the office. And I gotta say, I was impressed. I love surprises, and I love flowers arriving at the office. Valentine's Day is the perfect day for me. Or it would be if I had a man.

But this is not a post to whine about how sad Valentine's Day is when you're single. In fact, there were tons and tons of single-friendly options around town. I didn't do any of that though. Instead, I watched a chick-flick while sitting on my fabulous couch. 2 women at my office got a dozen red roses, and they were really pretty. But they were nothing compared to the bouquet I saw on the train today. A guy was carrying a huge bouquet filled with lilies, baby's breath, roses, violets, and anything else you'd expect to see on the front page of a bouquet catalogue. They were GORGEOUS. Oh wait, I didn't mean to be gushing.

Anyway, aside from my movie, I didn't do much else. The thing is, I've never actually been dating someone over Valentine's Day. And therefore, it's never really bothered me that I don't get to do anything. So, the moral of this post is, is to get off your duff and do something fun for yourself -- or nothing at all. Just quit yer bitchin'. And don't forget to hit up the sale chocolate at Kmart. :)

On a related note, the young'n called and txt'd me last night. I didn't bother to answer the phone. But it was interesting. I hadn't heard from him in quite some time. Wonder what he wanted? Hmm...

A Floral Post

These are purty, even if they don't look like what we ordered.

Eewwwwwwwww

So, when I woke up this morning, I thought I'd have a regular average day. I didn't do anything out of the ordinary. I woke up, got dressed, and left for work. Upon arriving at the platform, I missed the first train because it was so crowded. So, I was standing around on the platform, looking around at how crowded it was. And what I saw was horrifying....I saw a perfect stranger with his pants and underwear down around his knees. That's right, full frontal nudity from the waist down. Gross.

eL Hussy

So, I had yet another torrid affair today. It was even shorter lived than the one yesterday. This time, I saw a guy at the stop. Actually, I've seen him before on the very stop. Both times that I've seen him, he's had on very nice shoes and very stylish pants. However, he also had on a 'do-rag under his backwards-turned cap. That part, I was not big on. Anyway, I noticed him, and that was it....or so I thought. He got on, but he ended up looking back just after the doors closed; and winked! I smiled, and waved as they pulled off. Honestly, I blushed because I'm pretty sure he noticed me noticing him. Hmm. I wonder if he recognized me from before too? Anyway, thus ended my 2nd torrid love affair in as many days.

I also had a very profound lesson of the day. Unfortunately, I have discovered that I am a clotheshorse. And not even a covert clotheshorse. Sadly, I have been working for just under a month, and I already have the reputation of being quite the shopper and having tons of clothes. Ironically, I haven't bought all that much by way of clothes since I started working. And, I've definitely already repeated an outfit or two, because I don't yet own that many suits. With this in mind, I was definitely protesting my reputation at the office. However, I've been forced to re-evaluate, because I noticed myself observing the coats of several women. I already own a couple coats. Do I need another coat? Of course not! But I still nearly resolved to start looking for one. Nuts.

OK I get it!

Alright, alright. All (3) of my faithful readers have admonished me for not blogging often enough. So, here is your official update of my life.

I have moved to a new state and a new city. In that vein, I have had good times decorating my fabulous (and overpriced) apartment. Grant it, the apartment is in the price range of the rest of the neighborhood, but it's still quite the sticker shock when you're coming from student housing.

Anyway, since my last entry, I have divorced my backup husband, broke up with my IM boyfriend, and had a torrid (yet short) love affair. Here are the details ~

Backup husband: The engineer and I began tentatively talking again. And he offered to be my backup husband in 7 years. I don't remember accepting his offer, given our differing opinions on children (me: opposed, him: for). But anyway, we've since gotten a divorce because his current g/f (yes, the very same one) made him break up with me. He literally told me we couldn't talk anymore after I sent him a very risque txt. Ok, it wasn't risque. It said "I hate traffic". And it was in lieu of a phone call I was supposed to return the day before. And I don't actually have proof it was the g/f's fault. I mean, maybe he was insulted that I didn't take him up on his offer to fly in to my city and be my booty call. D'ah well. I guess I'll never know. Since he made the decision to divorce me, I can't very well be expected to be bothered with finding out why. I've got better things to do...such as dump my IM boyfriend.

As you may or may not know, I was deeply involved with my IM boyfriend. But alas, this weekend, when reality nearly collided with IM-ity, we were forced to end it. Ok, we all know we're getting back together because I want him to take me to the alumni banquet. But for now, we're broken up and I'm shopping for a new IM man.

My torrid love affair happened just earlier today. I boarded the local public transportation at the same time as the love of my life. I looked at him, he looked at me. And for the next 10 minutes, we were giving each other side eye. And by this, I mean I looked at him out of the corner of my eye for the entire ride. Then my stop came up, and thus ended our love affair. Sad isn't it?

There may be a prospect at my local bank. I'm wondering if I should approach him or not though, because he gave me his number rather than asking for mine. I read in a book (he's just not that into you) that usually a guy who does this is just being lazy. It's been a week today. Wonder if there's a statute of limitations on how long you can wait to call? Hmm..

Ok, I hope this satisfies my blogging requirement. I'll try to do better. But I've been busy turning my apt into a home rather than a refugee camp. Give a girl a break why don't you?!

Soundtrack to My Life, another response

So, a new fangled idea on facebook.com is to post a "note." Essentially, this is blogging on facebook. Well, all 3 of my readers don't have facebook, so I'm going to go ahead and post my response here. Basically, you're supposed to create the soundtrack to the special events of your life. I don't know if you're supposed to gain insight into my personality or what, but I thought it'd be kind of a fun project, so here it is:

1. Childhood: "Wonder" Natalie Merchant
2. High School: "Girl Next Door" Saving Jane
3. First Love/First Engagement: "Kiss Me" Sixpence None the Richer; "Don't Forget About Us" Mariah Carey
4. Single Life: "Single '06" Natasha Beddingfield, "Man! I Feel Like a Woman!" Shania Twain
5. Dating: "Fallin'" Alicia Keys, "Smooth" Santana feat. Rob Thomas
6. Love and Marriage: "Crash" DMB, "So This is Love" From Disney's Cinderella, "Le Big Bang" Gabrielle Destroismaisons
7. School: "Independent Woman" Destiny's Child
8. Anger Management: "Karma" Alicia Keys
9. Praise and Worship: "Dance Dance Dance" Mary Mary
10. Kids: "Oops! I Did it Again" Just kidding. I have no idea what song would go here, because I rarely contemplate kids long enough to have any particular feeling.
11. Retirement: "Feelin' Good" Nina Simone

Ok, that's all I got for now. And I've done some checking, a soundtrack album should really only be around 10-13 songs anyway -- and I'm def. over that limit :).

Surprising Results

Thanksgiving was all in all a good time. Since my family is mostly dominated by women, it was a gossipy-loud-raucous affair. My family is a generally sober family, so I have no drunk stories that often accompany these stories. In fact, my family is so mild that the most scandalous things that happen are usually spills on the paper tablecloth. I know that sounds woefully boring, but my friends keep adopting my family just so they can be invited, so I guess we're the epitome of "good, clean, fun." hee hee. Oh, something interesting did happen though. The young tender called during the evening, and spoke with my g-fab cuz and her mom and a family friend. He's attempting to get into the "friendship club," as my aunt calls it. I think his master plan is to become the new family favorite, so that they'll root for him rather than the Ex. It's pretty funny to witness. :}

Ok, I'll be honest. I figured the young tender would have left he island by now. In fact, I figured he'd would have been done after mere weeks. I also assumed that the church guy and I would be building the beginnings of a beautiful relationship by now. I was completely wrong on both counts.

Church guy didn't call me on Thursday night, as planned. Nor did he call on Friday or Saturday. I was extremely annoyed, but I was hoping to see him on Sunday to tell him that I had quite a weekend outside of his company. But alas, he wasn't at church. He did call shortly after church let out, however, and I did answer the phone. Once again, he showed his fear of commitment. Now, I'm merely speculating, but this guy is so afraid of commitment that he can't even make concrete plans. It happened when I was supposed to see him in Chicago (he cancelled), it happened again on Thursday (he failed to call), and then it happened again today! When we talked this afternoon, he asked if I had plans for later in the day. When I confirmed that I didn't (yet), he said he'd call me later to see if I wanted to hang out. Again with the tentative plans! And once again, he failed to call to follow through. Therefore, we are not currently building the beginnings of a beautiful relationship. In fact, he's been crossed off the list of possibilities. I had enough of this non-follow-through with the ninja (that's the ex that NEVER returned phone calls, the one it took me 3 years to break up with).

On the flip side, the young tender returns my calls so often that I'm going to run out of daytime minutes on a monthly basis. I may have to restrict his calling time to nights and weekends, and no more than 10 minutes during the day. He and I talk the way the engineer and I did, but unlike the engineer he is not "in my network"/"mobile-to-mobile"/whatever the trendy way to refer to that is. Anyway, in addition to the phone calls, he actually drove the 75 miles today. And although he didn't come here specifically to see me, we did have a chance to get together. We weren't able to go anywhere because he was with some other people, but we did have a nice chat in my car. He was equally as entertaining (and cute!) in person as he is on the phone. So much so that I may be forced to drive the 75 miles myself. ;)

Pre-Holiday Update

Ok, because I know I've been neglecting my blog, I'm going to give you a brief and breezy update. So here is all the news on all the things you've been wondering about!

1. The engineer: PAH HAHAHAHAHA. No, I haven't heard from him. I haven't heard a peep out of the westcoast since "The Incident." Unfortunately, I haven't heard from his psychotically jealous g/f either. I guess I'll never know if he got his cajones back. An unfortunate consequence. Although there have been many theories as to why he didn't call back, all of the ones assuming the benefit of the doubt have fallen through. For example: even if the gf did delete my phone number, there are still all kinds of electronic ways he could've contacted me. Thus, I have to assume that I am once again in need of a back-up date for upcoming weddings, since the engineer has quit. Sad really. He would've made a good one.

2. The young tender: Oh yes, he did call. Not only did he call, but he kept calling. I figured he was like all the other sketchy guys in a bar, who only ask for a girl's phone number because they can. But, as it turns out, he is (allegedly) interested. He makes me laugh, which is a huge bonus. And, in spite of my efforts to assure him that I will not, in fact, be sleeping with him, he continues to pursue. Sadly, all of this hitting-it-off has been to little avail, because we are 75 miles apart. There have been many alleged trips planned on his part, but they have yet to happen. Although there may be something brewing this weekend, so keep your fingers crossed. (Hey, young tender or no, he is darn cute, and this all in all makes a great story. We all know I'm not above going out with someone just for the story).

3. The churchboy: I think I forgot to mention him earlier, but I had a mini-reunion with a guy that used to go to my church. He is still quite cute. I had a big crush on him back in middle school. I think this crush has been reignited since I found out that he is a.) still fine, and b.) well educated. We have a tentative date planned for tomorrow, so we'll see if it goes anywhere.

4. The job search: arrrrgh! I keep getting interviews for the antithesis of what I really want to do. However, my last interview was long, which is often a sign of a successful interview. And while I don't think I'd enjoy the work, I REALLY enjoyed the office and the atmosphere. They don't appear to have a very good work-life balance, though. This worries me a bit. I appreciated the honesty, but I don't understand why they aren't more balanced given they only have one client. *Sigh.

5. kd. Miss kd. is currently living it up in Mexico. Booooooooooo to friends who get to go on fun tropical-esque trips. We're going to forgive her though, because she sent me a lovely box o'chocolates, and I have been devouring them like mad. Hmm. Maybe that isn't cause for forgiveness, since my pants aren't going to fit anymore. :).

6. M-te's in PHX for NYE. As is my tradition, I will be leaving town for NYE. The m-te's are meeting up in PHX and it will be the hotness. How jealous are you that you aren't invited?

Ok, that's all for now. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

Coupled

So, I was in the shower, and I made an uncanny observation. I realized that it is now (or very close to) a terrible time to get into a new relationship. With the holiday season coming up, it's a very awkward time for a new couple to get together. Think about it, Christmas and other gift-giving holidays are less than two months away. What do you get someone you've only been seeing for 2 months? And how do you even bring up the topic of conversation?

"Hey -name- (because you haven't graduated to nicknames yet) what are you going to get me for Christmas?"
Awful. What if that person hadn't planned on getting you anything? Now you've forced them to do so. And what is the spending limit? $5? $20? $100?

Of course, now this means I can't start a new relationship until January. Valentine's Day isn't a bad holiday for new relationships. Chances are you were going out to dinner anyway.

Hmm. Perhaps this observation wasn't nearly as witty as it sounded in the shower. But I've written it now, so I'm committed to publishing it. Too bad for you, you're just now realizing how asinine this posting is. haha!

I TOLD you not to shoot the sheriff

Apparently, the public-at-large is not keeping up on my most recent postings. Last night, my Daddy and I had a good laugh at our neighbors' expense. Schadenfreuden. I should be ashamed, but I'm not, because I WARNED you of this.

Last night, our neighbors were shooting off fireworks around 11pm last night. I have no idea what they were celebrating. Apparently it was holiday somewhere, but I can't find any on the calendar. Anyway, shortly thereafter (literally less than 2 minutes), the police pull up. Apparently the police had been nearby and either heard or saw (or both) the fireworks. PAH-HAHAHAHAHAHA. You got a ticket for shooting off fireworks on 5 November -- a non-holiday. And you'd only shot off about 3. Sad, you got neither a big show nor a big celebration. Remember the guy in the car that cut off the plainclothes-sheriff? I TOLD you not to piss off the sheriff. See what happens when you don't pay attention?

Insta-Boyfriend

My former neighbor, we'll call him Adam, and I used to be each other's rescue instant boyfriend/girlfriend. Whenever one of us appeared to be trapped in a conversation with someone undesirable, we'd go over and rescue the other, thereby appearing to be the significant other. Well, this weekend, he may have gotten himself fired. Although, I must admit, the incident which caused the firing was brilliantly orchestrated by Random Player.

Mr. Random Player was a guy at the bar on Saturday night. He and his friend Wing Man had been scoping me for quite some time. So much so that while I was talking to Adam, he pointed them out....referring to them as "my admirers" and complaining that such things never happen to men. This fact, by the way, is patently false, as there is an extreme shortage of desirable men in that town. This leads to women brazenly staring at sexy men while swimming in puddles of drool. Anyway, the minute Adam turned his back, Random Player walked up to me and asked what was up. Random Player is NOT one of the aforementioned sexy sexy men. Really, he is more of the creepy persuasion. So, he is (allegedly) wooing me with his game. He is accusing me of being with a man (Adam) who clearly isn't worried about me. He finds all of my explanations unacceptable. In spite of my protests, I couldn't help but be impressed by Random Player and Wing Man's orchestrations. While talking to me, Random Player took me by the waist and spun me around. Effortlessly blocking Adam's view of me. His friend, Wing Man, then closed the gap on the other side, blocking my access to getting Adam's attention. Essentially -- if I may borrow a basketball term -- I was boxed out.

*Sigh* If only he'd been as cute as the young tender. (Who, by the way, hasn't called me yet).

Tricking and Treating

Well, this weekend was quite a weekend. I went back to my alma mater for a Halloween celebration. And I went for the purpose of committing serious shenanigans. I will say, mission accomplished. I saw people I hadn't seen in ages, I talked to people who had probably long forgotten me, and I did it all while dressed in a fake costume.

I never made it to the main street, but I hear that this year there were fewer arrests and no riots. I did head to 2 house parties and a bar off the main street. I was also hit on by an uber-young'un. Now, I know I've come close to robbing the cradle before. But this comes close....young tender is 21. 21!!! I wonder if it was his first time in the bar? As it turns out, he was adorable, but not very sensible. We'll see if he ever actually calls. Should we take some bets?

Speaking of phone calls....

First, let me begin with a mea culpa. I know that it is wrong to dial-while-intoxicated. But, we did it anyway, and it was good times. My friend from the OC had flown in for the festivities. We started our night with some high quality Miller products -- Sparks. After suitable pre-gaming, we headed to a party. While there, we attempted to call her friend and my ex-boyfriend...the tall, darkhaired guy with the light eyes. Our plans were foiled because he had changed his number. I was kind of saddened by this, because I think it would have been quite the entertaining chat. There were a couple phone calls to various girls around the school in hopes of meeting up, and just generally saying hello. There were also some long and random messages left with people who failed to answer their phone. Chrissy was even the recipient of a drunk dial made by her ex-boyfriend...he picked a fight with her, as drunk exes are wont to do.

My former neighbor and I also exchanged many many dials. Me: "Wanna make out later?" Him: "sure." We never did make out, but he let me stay at his place since my original host has a cat and I'm allergic. Ahhh, neighborly love.

Another favorite of mine was a phone call to psuedodate. He didn't answer his phone, which was sad. But I did get to leave a ridiculous long and rambling message on his voicemail for him to wake up to. Turns out, I must have been rather tipsy at that point, because when he called back the next day, he said it sounded like he should've been wherever we were, because it sounded like we were having quite the good times. (And we were!)

More call stories to be continued....

Tricking and Treating, Parte Due

Sometime during the night, Chrissy decided to call the engineer in order to entertain herself. She called to inquire as to our dating status. Just to clarify, that dating status is nonexistent. So, anyway, he told her he was (a) with his girlfriend and (b) going to get off the phone. Now, this was an appropriate response because the engineer is quite savvy, and was easily able to deduce that she was (a) not me (as I was in the bathroom) and (b) not sober. This, as far as I can tell, was the end of the conversation. You would think this would be the end of the story. But wait, there's more.

7 minutes later, my phone buzzed, and his number pops up. Just as it was not I who called him from my phone, it was not him that called me from his phone. It was the g/f. Here is the gist of that conversation:
her: "Did you just call the engineer?"
me: "ummm, no?"
her: "Did you just have one of your friends call him?"
me: "ummm, no?"
her: "You didn't?"
me: "no, as I was in the bathroom. But maybe my friend called him as my phone was with her."
Now, I know what you're thinking. This must be the end of the conversation. At this point, any reasonable person would be able to figure out what was going on here, particularly given the prior conversation involving the words "getting off the phone" and "Halloween party". But wait, there's more.

her: "Well, she just asked if you were dating."
me: (snickering). "we're not dating! In fact, I'm in Wisconsin." (more snickering)
her: "Well, we're dating."
me: (out and out laughter). "ok."
her: "Well, since you think it's so funny, maybe you shouldn't call him anymore"
me: (more laughter) "ok, I'll do that." (laughter). Click.
Note: This is not verbatim. I wasn't taking notes.

Yes, she was serious. I'm not joking. This woman called me, while I'm many states and 2 time zones away and at a Halloween party to tell me that she was dating the engineer, whom I am not pursuing. Women like her give reasonable women a bad name. Seriously, are you that jealous? Of someone you've never met and who is only slightly lucid? Ok sweetheart, do me a favor, please get over yourself, thanks. And if you're making this phone call in front of the man that I am allegedly after, then do me a favor, reach into your purse and give him his cajones back. Jealousy plus cajone chopping is not generally a great way to build a relationship...I'm just saying. Am I wrong? I didn't think so. I took a vote among colleagues. Turns out, I'm not wrong.

Tag, you've been summoned

Ok, I don't encourage watching Geraldo at Large. His ridiculous mustache alone is reason to boycott. However, my t.v. was on that channel when I turned it on this afternoon. You won't believe the story that I caught as I was heating up yummiful Chinese(esque) food. Apparently, for the safety of our children, schools in Massachusettes (and across the nation) are banning Tag. Tag? you ask. Yes, tag. The game aka "It". This ingenious time filler that convinces kids to run around like chickens with their heads cut off and avoid the person who is "it". And should one get caught, begin screaming like a banshee. This game, this blessed game, tuckers kids out and wears out their voices. Resulting in a substantial amount of time where the large groups of children are (a) entertained, then (b) too tired to wreak havoc and (c) have lost their voices and are too tired to speak. I beg you, WHY would an administration outlaw such a game?

Well, apparently, they are "protecting the children." Really, they are avoiding getting sued. Geraldo blames the lawyers and the insurance companies. But these two groups of people are just trying to pay their mortgages. Who you should be blaming are these RIDICULOUS people who would feel that a skinned knee is an appropriate cause of action. You know, there was a girl in my grade in elementary school who once broke her arm when she fell off the monkey bars. Technically, it could have been a cause of action. And a lawyer couldn't really be blamed for bringing a suit which might result in a paycheck. (Granted, I'm biased, but let's be real here. Would you turn down the possibility of earning money? I didn't think so.) Nevertheless, her parents didn't bring suit. Because falling off monkey bars is what kids do. Remember penny drops? Sometimes kids even do it on purpose. That's why God created health insurance. So please, stop passing the buck of your problems. If you really want to recoup some expense from your kids' injuries, consider taking it out of their allowance. Tell them it's practice for when FDIC will come out of their paycheck later.

But I did not shoot the deputy....

Today, I was driving along, on my way home. I was drawn to look into my rearview mirror by some guy laying on his horn. As it turns out, he had a very good reason: The guy in the Explorer in the next lane over was trying to cut him off. And continued even though there was no space for another car, and the car he was attempting to cut off was a blue Chevy Lumina. As the Explorer proceeded to cut off the Lumina, I said to myself "Boy is he lucky that isn't a plainclothes police car".

Well, as it turns out, it was a plainclothes sheriff. There were two of them in fact. I figured this out when once we reached the red light, the sheriff turned on his flashers and got out of the car to the drivers side window. He spent the better part of the red light telling the driver of the Explorer off. He spent so much time that the 2nd plainclothes sheriff got out of her car. But, the light turned green, the Explorer peeled off, and the 1st sheriff walked calmly to his car. However, it wasn't over. The first sheriff sped up on the right side of me and followed the Explorer. I suspect he tailed the Explorer for quite some time after that. Hee hee.

The moral of the story? Don't piss off the sheriff. :)

Book Picks

I have been mentioning various books for a couple posts now. And so I thought it may be high time for me to make out a list of picks. As a disclaimer: many of the books are chick lit, but last I checked, I am a chick. So, if you're not, you can either consider it counterintelligence, or disregard. It's your call :}.

Easy, Emma Gold.
I highly recommend this book for singletons everywhere. It's like revved up literary Sex and the City. I'll say, it's what Carrie Bradshaw's column would be, if Samantha Jones had written it. Look for snappy lines, hysterical nicknames for exes, and all around debauchery London style.

Are Men Necessary?, Maureen Dowd.
As I said before, this is NOT a feminazi manifesto. Instead, it's merely an observation of the differences between men and women. It's part sociological, part rant, part scientific. All enjoyable. I particularly enjoyed the scientific explanation of why the Y chromosone may disappear altogether. I sort of like the idea of women having sperm slaves. (I didn't coin that, it came from the book, honest).

He's Just Not That Into You, Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo.
This is a short, comical, self-help book. I think the actual self-help parts are skip-worthy. But, the "Dear Greg" letters and his responses are pure comedy. There are even some handy-dandy worksheets in the book to go with. Including coloring! The advice Greg and Liz give is mostly obvious, assuming you have male friends who are honest. But the funny parts make up for the obviousness of the advice.

Girl Meets God, Lauren F. Winner.
This book was instrumental in my refortification of my spiritual relationship. I highly recommend, both as an interesting journey of a woman's religious awakening and as a nice comparison of Judaism and Christianity. It's also useful for some questions agnostics may have. There is an element of chick-ism here, but that's because the author is a woman. I really can't determine for my male readers whether that would hinder your experience of the book. But that's not really for me to decide, is it?

Sarah, Zipporah, and Lilah. The Canaan Trilogy, all by Marek Halter.
While I'm on the subject of religion, allow me to put forth three Biblical/historical novels. Halter takes 3 women of the Old Testament, and weaves their background story. He gives a portrayal of their point of view, which is usually lacking from the Bible. These are the women connected with Abraham, Moses and Ezra, respectively. Moreover, the writing is nothing short of beautiful. I especially recommend the book for those that find the Bible difficult to read outside of short spurts. These books made me want to read the actual scripture. I find it was much easier to picture what was happening this way.

Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini
Ok, a word of caution first. There is some graphic violence in this book. But it's minimal, and it's necessary. This book will also transcend gender lines because there are so many important aspects to the story -- love, friendship, loyalty, bravery. It's a moving story out of Afghanistan. I certainly can't do it justice by describing it here. Just take my word for it, and go read it.

The Namesake, Jhumpa Lahiri
This is a great book on finding one's identity. It is the story of the son of immigrants. It's interesting to see the identity challenges that a first-generation American faces. The writing here is also very impressive, because it describes the emotion and feeling of a man that you feel them yourself. Prepare your heart strings ahead of time. His emotions become yours.

My Sister's Keeper, Jodi Picoult
I found this book to be surprisingly dark. And it deals with a very modern issue of science versus humanity. Also, it is interesting to see how the law can play with all of this. Grant it, that may be a personal bias, but it's an interesting book I promise.

Some movie books:
In Her Shoes
The Devil Wears Prada
Memoirs of a Geisha
These films were all originally books. And I'd like to point out that the books were fabulous first, and the movies were terrific adaptations. If you've already seen the movie, it may be dificult to read the books because the films were very close. But if you're a bookworm like me, read them anyway. You won't be disappointed.

The Harry Potter series.
I finally got around to reading these books. My reason for not reading the books to begin with is that they seemed a little Lord of the Rings/Dungeons and Dragons for me. However, Harry Potter has nothing to do with all that creepiness. This is more like the way Disney would do magic. And, it was also true that J.K. Rowling is a wonderful writer in general. I do have one beef with her though, and it comes at the end of book 6. I can't believe she did it! Oh, and as a word of caution, book 5 was interminably slow-moving. I'd tell you to skip it, but they really do build on each other, and something unbelievable does happen at the end. So, while you're reading it, just keep the faith, it's worth it.

Ok, that's it for now. Mostly because these entries are getting longer and longer. And you should be working, not reading blog entries on the internet :).

Men are from Mars

I am in the midst of reading a fabulous book by Maureen Dowd called Are Men Necessary?. I highly recommend it. In spite of the title, it is not a feminist manifesto. It is actually a sociological study, so to speak, about the relationship between modern men and women. I haven't finished it yet, but thus far, the first 1/3rd of the book is funny and insightful. ...hmm. Looks like I'm going to have to do a literary review in short order.

Anyway, I was discussing this book with my engineer friend, and after I convinced him that this was not an angry feminazi novel, we talked about what men want. As he is officially a modern yuppie, I told him that he fit the profile of the alpha-male in the book. And that he therefore would prefer to marry a subordinate, docile woman. (For the record, I'm not calling him a womanizer or anything). Essentially, he wants a woman to take care of and be a housewife and such. So, after I made my prediction, he said that these were not new observations. However, he said, these predictions did not apply to him. (He threatened me with dire consequences if I told the rest of this story, but as he doesn't know my address, I'm telling it anyway -- my way :}). According to him, he needs a woman who works 40 hrs. Now, I'm paraphrasing, but he basically said he was too lazy to be the breadwinner, and so he needed a woman that could pull her own weight. PAH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. What made this EVEN funnier is that I had just read an article in my favorite news magazine in which a man had said the exact same thing. This writer said he needs an alpha-woman so that he can spend his days pondering deep and important questions. Such as how to fit 3 big flat screen tvs in one room for the ultimate sports viewing experience. *Chuckle*.

So these are the men I get to choose from? Either that or quit my job and become the doting housewife? Hoo-aah. Be still my beating heart. (Insert swooning here).

I'd rather be sleeping...

Have you ever gone out on a weekend night, knowing full well that you'd rather be burrowing under you covers? And as you spend an absurd amount of time making your hair look Pantene shiny and applying several layers of makeup to look like you don't have on any, you're thinking about that new book you just got from the library. But you soldier on anyway, because something or someone convinced you that getting gussied up in your most arse-flattering jeans and tummy-hiding/arm-showcasing top is a great idea. Well, it's not a great idea. There is a book by Emma Gold called Easy, required reading for single chicks everywhere. But in this book, she comments about this very same weekend experience, saying that she's old enough to hope that she won't have a bad time -- she knows that it's highly unlikely that she'll have a good time. I haven't yet reached that level of cynicism, but after last night, I'm starting to see her point.

Last night was definitely one of those nights which would've have been better spent if I'd stayed at home. I felt headachey before I left, and I spent a full 40 minutes convincing myself not to put on pjs. But I just knew that I should stay home. However, my mother has taken me on as a charity case. Deciding that she's going to find me someone to go out with. Can I just say that this particular brand of pity makes me feel especially pathetic? Aren't I too old for my mommy to find me a playdate? (I do feel marginally better that my Cali friend Chrissy is suffering from the same pity. Except her father has gone so far as to print advertisements for young/hip/singles' nights held at the local church. *sigh*. Parental zeal really blows sometimes).

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, last night I'm going out with my friend and her newly discovered man of the hour. He is really the cat's pajamas and she is so excited. To the point of dreamy expressions and sighs at odd intervals when she's thinking about him. Let me say this. I am not such a cynic that I begrudge all new relationships. I gush along with the best of them. Probing for details on dates and how they met and etc. etc. etc. Just like any other girl about town would do. However, before agreeing to go out with these two I wanted to be sure that there would be other people there. Sadly, the 2 other people joining us were not enough to stop the inevitable. My friend and her new perfect beau spent the entire time smooching and cuddling and saying ridiculous things like "why are you so perfect?" (Gag me. He actually said that and I actually heard it. While I'd squeal with delight if I heard this third person, it's really too much when you're standing in the middle of a bar.) And to top it off, they got all kinds of hostile when the other 3 people present would yell at them to knock it off. One of the other attendees, a friend of the new boyfriend remarked that their behavior was "very junior high." And here's the real kicker, I was asked to tone down my personality.

I've been trying all day to get over that particular zinger of a comment. In fact, I tried to chalk it up to drunk behavior, but quite frankly I'm having some difficulty. My personality is not attached to a dial wherein you can turn me on and off for your own personal entertainment. And last I checked, it was my no-holds-barred straightforward opinions that make me a special guest in general, and an entertaining blogger. So forgive me, but if you aren't in the mood for my witty observations, then please keep your ridiculous in-bar-makeout session to yourself. Oops. That turned into a rant.

What I meant to blog about, was this guy I met. MatAnthony. That isn't his real name. Anyway, I found myself drawn to him because he was that fashionable sonuvagun that would generally attract me. Let's say tall, dark and handsome. His friend was also rather attractive as well -- I'd for sure set him up with any number of my friends. They were great conversationalists -- well, as good as conversation is in a bar. They kept me incredibly entertained during one of my extended walk-away-from-the-couple moments. But sadly, he didn't ask for my number. Even more sadly, he was only 23. Although, I remembered my earlier promise to give the young'uns a chance. But I can't give you a chance if you're not asking me out. I should've known better. Given the location of the bar, I'm surprised he was that old. *Sigh*. Maybe I'll see him out again someday ... Here's to hope springing eternal.

Updated

Alright. I was recently admonished for not properly updating my blog. So, here I am, officially catching you up on my life.

My first story is rather sad. Apparently, I am not ready to grow old gracefully. I always assumed that when one of the "7 signs of aging" began to appear, that I would be far too busy living my fabulous life to notice. However, a couple weeks ago, I discovered a wrinkle. No, forget that. I found a fine line. It is a smile line, and I am not smiling about it. Therefore, I have declared an all out war on this fine line. And any others that might decide to creep up. In related news, I think I am winning the war. I purchased some fabulous face cream and exfoliating soap and my skin is smooth as buttah. That"s right, pheebee 1, gravity 0. Moo haa haa!

Ok, second story. I need a new vehicle. When I had my smaller, cuter car, I was rarely hit on by car. This is no longer the case with my newer faster car. One morning, I headed to my car on my way to work. What I discovered was a small piece of torn paper placed under the windshield. It said "Will you finally call me?! :) Roy 555-555-5555" While this may be flattering, the problem is that I don't know anyone named Roy. And I didn't see this Roy person put this paper on my car. So who is he? Do I have a real, rather than pretend stalker? My friends and family have found this mostly entertaining. But I don't mind admitting that for the next couple days I kept checking my car to see if there was someone fluttering around it.

Less than a week later, I was at Starbucks. On my way in, I passed a gentleman on his way out. We exchanged pleasantries and so on. He told me I had a pretty smile, and I said thanks. Then I told him he had a nice car, because it looked just like mine. Well, while I was in Starbucks, awaiting my tasty beverage, he returned to the parking lot and put his card on my car, in hopes of receiving a phone call. The problem with this, is that he must be old (for me). He's the V.P. of a branch of a bank. Just think how much older than me he would have to be. Oy! Moreover, I didn't get a good look at him. All we said was "good morning" for goodness' sake!

Well, I suppose that just shows that I really am winning the battle against gravity :)!

TV Picks

I must say, I am extremely impressed with network tv's lineup. Broadcast television definitely brought it this season. Although they are certainly taking their sweet time starting the fall season. At any rate, I'll be spending a lot of time in front of the television this year.

Old Shows:
L&O: Each of them are stupendous as usual. Although I have never been keen on the Mr. Big episodes of CI. So I just skip those and watch something else those weeks. Lately it's been Dancing with the Stars. SVU appears to be giving Mariska some time off. I'm not big on this either, but I'll reserve my opinion until after a few weeks. Otherwise, the general public is providing plenty of fodder to keep you entertained for 3 hours a week.

House: The only medical drama on television that I can stand watching. He's the Matlock of medicine, the Bobby of the hospital. And I LOVE it. Although this year they're tending to get a bit graphic. My recommendation, pull up a chair Tuesday at 7 after the MLB season (finally) ends, and just be prepared to close your eyes really tight when it gets too gross.

Dancing with the Stars: Laugh if you want, but I've been into ballroom dancing since I was little. I used to watch it on PBS when the competitions were televised. And I even read the memoir Kiss & Tango because it was about a woman who left corporate america to pursue a career in Tango in Argentina. I highly recommend that book. But this is not a literary review, it's about television, so I"ll comment on ABC's show. Not only is ballroom dancing sexy (often in a dignified way), but the B-list stars they've got this season are exceptionally entertaining and/or hot. Hello? Jerry Springer doing a Bond version of the tango? Hysterical. Mario Lopez doing an impassioned tango. I was salivating. And, the surprisingly hot forerunner is Joey Lawrence. I had zero interest in him in his "Blossom" years, but the addition of a few years and getting rid of that ridiculous long hair may I just say "whoa!".

New Shows:
Justice: Needless to say, I heart the courtroom dramas. Finally there is a show that less about police work, and more about Matlock with glamour. Whereas Andy Griffith was a charming southern gentlemen in a seersucker suit. The attorneys in Justice are slick, sly and of course, very fashionable. And might I add, that I am impressed with the writers' ability to use the imposing stature and intimidating demeanor of Eamonn Walker without typecasting him as the Big Black Man. I would also like to add that they haven't yet shamelessly used Rebecca Mader as a sex symbol. Furthermore, bless them for showing how the murder actually happened. The other shows NEVER let us in on what the defendant may or may not have done.

'Til Death: I never really watched Raymond, so I don't know exactly how entertaining Brad Garrett is. But he is definitely hi-larious in this show comparing newlyweds to decades-old marriages. I am also impressed with Eddie Kaye Thomas' ability to shed his Finch persona. (Something not that easy to do given American Pie's infamy). And although I am bound to want to smack Kat Foster's character around a bit, she plays the newlywed idealistic wife beautifully.

Happy Hour: I love that it's in the midwest. I love that one of the main characters is from MO. And I love how ignorant the Big City characters are regarding anything outside of Chicago. It's so true to life. This country mouse/city mouse comedy is hi-larious. Although it may have more appeal to midwesterners who realize there is life outside of NY and LA. Others may be shocked to realize there are 47 other states. (I assume they already know about Hawaii). Moreover, the show makes a good point. Why don't we make martinis everyday at 5pm anymore?

Studio 60: Wow. What more can I say about this show? It's so good it makes my head hurt. It's like eating a Lindt truffle and washing it down with a white chocolate mocha. The characters showed themselves to be lovable or loathable within the first 15 minutes of the show. Each actor is perfect for his or her role. And the thinly veiled allusions to SNL makes it all the more scandalous. Watch this show, and watch it every week -- twice if NBC deems it necessary to show an encore.

Six Degrees: Ok people. Tell me what is going on with this show. I'm so hot and cold on it I can't take it anymore. I may stop watching it merely because it isn't consistently fantastic. The idea behind the show is fabulous. The actual writing is annoying, using predictable stereotypes and ploys. Somebody get these people their thinking caps and take this shows potential and use it. Oh wait, this was supposed to be my picks. Well, somebody watch this show for a couple weeks and let me know if it's actually worth watching.

Ugly Betty: Another show I'm a bit iffy on. The idea is awesome. But it's only been one show. I reserve judgment until later.

For the record, I do do things other than watch t.v. But, let's be honest, I keep the t.v. on when I'm doing those other things. And anyway, nightlife doesn't start until well after primetime. So despite appearances, I do have a life. Moreover, if I didn't watch these things, how would you know what was on?!

Getting your mrs

Ok, so I'm not actually out shopping for an "mrs". But as I am currently suffering from insomnia and watching SATC I figured it was an appropriate train of thought. As many people who know me are well aware, I have a particularly strict code of sexual conduct. (Essentially, if you wouldn't do it in front of Old CC's King Chapel, you shouldn't be doing it without diamonds.) But, here's a question: does that including (actual) sleeping together?

Let's be real here. I happen to enjoy 8 consecutive hours of sleep every night. Without all 8, I can be even more crabby than normal. So, what if my beloved and I are not compatible to sleep together? For instance, snoring. To be honest, there are people who are related to me who snore profusely. Spending the night at their homes, or sharing hotel rooms on road trips leads to sleepless nights and crabby days. I realize that everyone snores at some point, including when you're stuffed up. I mean, even I snore sometimes, although I prefer to think that rather than sounding like I'm calling hogs, I'm more prone to the slight neighing of a cute filly that's soundly sleeping. (That's my story and I'm sticking to it).

So, is it unacceptable to end a torrid love affair turned lasting love due to incompatible sleeping? Alternatively, will me and my beloved be forced to maintain an extra bedroom so that I can get a decent 8 hours? Or, alternatively, can I (actually) sleep with these people early in the relationship, before it becomes torrid or loving and break up with him if he snores (or hogs the covers, or kicks in his sleep, or tosses a lot in bed)?

Perhaps these are questions I should worry about later...you know. After I meet a man who is intelligent, cute, funny, and without children. Meh, details. It's better to plan ahead. :}

Falling

I never thought I'd be here to watch the leaves change. (By here I mean this location, not the planet and living). Anyway, I feel as if this change of season is awfully premature. It is only mid September. Shouldn't there be a couple more weeks of greenery left?

Although, I do feel that it's just one tree on my block, and therefore the fall season hasn't completely begun. This, is good. What is sad is that the tree that is beginning to change here spits its leaves in just one spot. Usually it's onto my car. No matter where it's parked. I think this tree has a vendetta out to get my car. It really isn't fair, you know. Especially after a rain. Honestly, have you ever attempted to get a wet leaf that is stuck on your windshield off of said windshield? It's impossible! First, you just hope that the leaf will commit leaficide and jump ship. Of course it doesn't. Then you try the windshield wiper, and all that happens is that it gets stuck under the windshield wiper. So you're stuck with the wet leaf trail directly in your line of vision, like a sucker. And the leaf is securely latched to your car, buckled in by the security of the wiper blade. It's so unfair. *Sigh.* Circle of life, I guess.

Missing

That's it, I'm taking out an APB on a few articles of clothing, and issuing a warrant for the search and arrest of local washing machines and dryers. I have lost 2 pairs of underwear. Both are brown, BBV, and will cost a mint to replace now that I no longer possess an employee discount. I have also lost my workout bandana. It is pink, faded, and has been permanently stretched out since I always tied the same corners together.

How crazy and/or scatterbrained does one have to be to lose whole articles of clothing (socks notwithstanding). The biggest problem is that I have no where to look. As for the underwear, they have been missing for quite some time, but I always thought they were here, and when I couldn't find them here, I thought they were back at school. Turns out they were in neither place. Which begs the question where in the bejeebies are they? Did I have a couple rampant, illicit affairs that I don't remember? If so, does my partner read this blog? Has he saved these underwear? And can he return them? On second thought, don't return them. Just send me $20 to replace them. Thanks.

Likewise, did he steal my bandana? Because I'm really close to using it as an excuse not to go to the gym....Ok, not really. Having a lot of time on my hands + nothing on daytime television has turned out to be an excellent weight loss program. I'm but a few pounds away from fitting into my skinny jeans again. I guess I'd just better find a suitable bandana replacement.

Schedule an appointment

How do you know when it's time to go to the psych doctor? Seriously, sign me up. Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh.

Dining Alone

Whenever I think about moving to Chicago, I wonder how I will experience the city. Grant it, I do know people there, who are either from there, or have lived there for a while. But when it's the middle of the week, and everyone is busy, what will I do with myself then? Which leads to the question, why is it so hard to eat alone in a restaurant?

I am not above ordering food to go at a restaurant, some restaurants are even offering a to go service that doesn't even require you to get out of your car. But, sometimes, you just want to go out right? But, when you do take that plunge, you feel especially conspicuous -- as though everyone is staring at you. Oddly enough, when you are out to dinner, you never give someone sitting alone a 2nd thought. Why is it that when you're dining alone, it feels slightly pathetic?

Obviously, there's nothing wrong with eating alone. It's no different than sitting in a coffee shop alone. But for some reason, it feels different. On the other hand, maybe it's just me. And it's only because I like to talk so much. No chatterbox is complete without someone listening to your inane chatter. :)

Blogger's Block

Today I was feeling in a literati kinda mood, so I thought that I'd post something. Unfortunately, I have nothing exciting to write about. Nor do I have any witty observations to make. I'm blocked! If this continues for too long, I may have to delete the blog altogether. On the other hand, I'm sure the 3 people that read it probably won't mind too much. I mean, they already hear about whatever I've written 1400 times anyway right? :)

Like a child...

Wow, am I naive. I always fancied myself somewhat street savvy. I mean I am from one of the bigger cities in the States. And I have been to the shadier parts of town a few times. I know when to keep my doors locked (always), which areas are completely exempt from crime (no where in the world where there are people), and how to conduct myself in a large city (carefully). I've seen a joint (never tried it -- complete lack of opportunity), I've had a drink of alcohol, I've even smoked a cigar (ok, I had one puff, but still). And yet, apparently, when it comes to drug references, I am completely naive and out of the loop.

I realized this just a few days ago, when an old Ashanti feat. Fat Joe song came on. In that song, there is a part of the lyrics which say "we be freakin' all nite like we was on E". So, the thought in my head is about E! -- as in Entertainment Television. I convinced myself that it made sense, thanks to that show "Wild on..." hosted by Brooke Burke. Unfortunately, I was wrong wrong wrong. Fat Joe is, in fact, referring to Ecstasy. The common rave drug. I find it hilarious that I didn't discover this until I was listening to the song, and they blocked out the word "e". It was at that point, not 4 years ago when the song came out, that I made the connection. Whoa, sad. I think I lose a few savvy points on that one.

Did you take your vitamins today?

Do your parents think you're a little slow too? I've been noticing the comments that both children make about their parents, and comments parents make to their children, and I've made the official discovery that parents must believe their children are complete morons. Allow me to demonstrate:

Example #1: During the summer, when I'm leaving to go out to the bar or club, my mother inevitably asks me "don't you want to take a jacket?". Now, I am perfectly capable of determining whether or not I'm cold aren't I? Therefore, if I was cold, I'd likely remember to take a jacket. And yet we have this conversation each time I leave for the club. Apparently my mother doesn't have confidence in my temperature sensing abilities.

Example #2: A former colleague of mine got her driver's license recently. There was a second family car lying around, and her mother gave it to her. However, her mother withheld the spare set of keys. Now, a reasonable person would probably be able to a.) make a copy or b.) request the spare set. However, these steps would really only affect one's ability to drive if the original set of keys was lost. Is it just me, or does one have to believe their child is rather slow and would therefore believe that not having the spare set would prevent operation of the vehicle?

Example #3: Lest you think it's just mothers who lack confidence in their children's ability, allow me to proffer this example. My college friend kd had a cell phone that was part of her parents' family plan. Her father was a bit perturbed at the phone bill one day, and threatened to turn the phone off. Apparently rendering her incommunicado. However, this would only be an effective strategy IF a.) said friend was living at home and unable to get a different phone or b.) if she was unemployed and desperately relied on the cell phone. Neither of these things were true. Therefore, her father must have relied on her inability to arrive at a cellular phone retail store and purchase a cell phone, and pay the bill from the income she received from her job.

The moral of the story is, either being someone's child renders you completely inept, or parents don't particularly believe in their ability to raise competent adults. So tell me, which is it? :)

Produce

So, the grocery store has long since been a staple of sitcom romance scenarios. However, until recently, I'd never known anyone to be hit on, or to hit on anyone at a grocery store. But oh, my last sanctuary of safety has alas been taken away. I was at the grocery store last week, minding my own business, purchasing ingredients for the dinner I was cooking. I stopped by the magazine rack to get new reading material. I was promptly accosted by James.

James was probably a 5.7 on the looks scale. Good height, ok face, nice build. But not anything to really write home about. He may have been one of those guys to grow on you with sufficient personality. Sadly, he did not have the requisite personality. His smooth opening line was, "let me read your shirt, ma". Ok, not smooth, but a decent and non-annoying opening. We'll give him a 6 on the smoothness scale (only whole numbers on that scale). His score quickly declined mere minutes into the conversation. He proceeded to attempt to generate a bond out of thin air. He failed miserably. His score declined further upon his attempt to secure my phone number. Naturally, I refused it, but I told him I'd take his. He had neither pen, nor paper, and so I sent him off to the customer service desk in hopes of shaking him by the time I was finished checking out. But, my plan was foiled by a cheerful, but rather slow checker.

Alas, he re-approached me, complete with his phone number. He offered to carry my bags, stating that he "normally doesn't let the woman carry the load". (Score drops yet again). Persistent one that he is, he walked me all the way to my car. Time enough for me to find out that he doesn't have kids. In fact, he doesn't have kidS. He has one. (Overall score officially a 0.)

Thus ends my story. And my last safe haven. :)

Too much time

I just received an email from Bin Laden. The email announced that Osama bin Laden had been caught. This particular piece of spam made me laugh. I mean really, why would a spammer choose this as an email to send people? Logically, would bin Laden announce his own capture via mass emails to random email addresses? I didn't think so either.

But, what I did learn from this is that someone has far too much time on his or her hands and has decided to amuse himself by sending asinine emails out. I can't say that I blame him. Being unemployed and directionless has it's moments -- like reading all those books you've been meaning to read for the last 3 years, and then some. But the endless days that stretch ahead filled with ridiculous daytime judge show after judge show is rather unfulfilling. That plus the constant reminder by everyone around you of your lack of job status gets to be taxing. And by constant, I absolutely do mean daily. And what can you say? They really just want to know when the next exciting thing in your exciting life is going to happen. Sadly, my exciting life is somewhat lacking.

On the other hand, I do have some exciting times. Last night, I went to a bar that I haven't yet been to. I must have seen at least 3 people that I knew, one of whom I hadn't seen in 7 years! It was definitely pretty sweet to see him. Although, it was somewhat sad because dude definitely grew up to be quite a looker, I gotta be honest. (I may have been tricked by the green eyes though. I am a HUGE sucker for green eyes -- let us not forget the most recent ex.) I suspect, however, that he was there with his g/f. (Rats).

On a related note, men keep throwing phone numbers at me. But, let me dispel any notions of possibilities. The phone numbers I've been getting have been from men who are too old, too young, too silly, too moronic, too busy with kid(s). Gah! Where are the perfectly aged, sufficiently intelligent, completely unattached men at anyway? At this rate, I'm not even getting to kiss the frog, let alone find out if he's a prince! To that end, I do have a quasi-entertaining story. But as this post is already far longer than necessary, you'll just have to wait until next post. HA! (I've definitely become very easily entertained. The very implication of that cliffhanger made me laugh.)

The virtuous woman

I once said to a co-worker that patience is a virtue. She retorted that she was not a virtuous woman. These days, I'm feeling her.

Aside from waiting for that job to come along, and waiting to get my test results (topics I'm certain EVERYONE within a 75 mile radius is tired of me griping about), let's talk about my one true test of patience. My self-imposed-but-highly-necessary spending freeze. I am on a spending freeze to end all spending freezes with no hope of thaw in sight. Gotta say, it's not a good time.

I decided that I am not going to spend any money until a time t.b.d. It's killing me! Aside from the fact that stores abound with summer fashions that they must be rid of immediately, there is also the not-so-insignificant matter of the new fall fashions that I absolutely need. Despite my previous post about the psuedo-dire forecast about the state of fashion, my hope for the season was buoyed when I saw this month's magazine. Apparently, the hideous stretch pant phenom is reserved strictly for casual-wear. An area I can entirely ignore and hopefully avoid. Moreover, it appears that while this particular fashion is catching on faster than FloJo could run a mile, only those who truly look good in it are participating. Apparently, those blessed with curves are avoiding this particular trend like the plague, and leaving it to those woefully lacking in hips and butt. (Incidentally, while in fashion, it is desireable to be shaped like a pencil, it appears that in the beauty realm of the real world, womanly curves are still being hailed as the greatest thing since wifi). Basically, it's a sad state of affairs when all of this fashionable goodness is taking place around me, and the only needless expenditure I've allowed myself is a short no-fat sugar-free vanilla latte.

As a slight consolation prize, the spending freeze applies to food and alcohol as well. Although is slightly looser terms. I'm still allowed to spend a few dollars on a drink or two if I'm out with friends, but usually not enough to prevent me from driving. (Read: 1 alcoholic beverage and 1 sober beverage). I'm not really allowed to spend on prepared food, unless I desperately need to fulfill a craving. Thus, I'm eating healthier by default. (Read: I'm doing the cooking these days, and I'm making an attempt at healthier foods. Moreover, I usually don't want to create any more dishes than necessary, making eating less likley to happen if it means I have to use a plate or silverware). I may lose that study-weight faster than previously thought. Cutting out snacking sure makes it easier. On the other hand, if someone offered me a killer piece of cheesecake right now, I'd accept it and propose marriage to whomever it was.

Red Toenails

Well, I think we're safe. I've searched for myself numerous times, and there has been no pointing to this website. Thus, my smart-alecky comments shall return, in the usual anonymous fashion. I will, however, be slowly deleting all pictures that show myself or people I know. I am still of the opinion that if someone wants to know more about me, they darn well better ask about me and NOT utilize everyone's favorite search engine and find all sorts of facts out of context.

Anyway, I am in a period of transition. I can't say that I'm enjoying my time off, because it's so indefinite. Nor can I say that I'm not enjoying it, because, frankly -- what's more fun than sitting on your arse doing whatever you darn well please? So basically, it's up and down with this time off. It's like an endless summer vacation. Except the fact that it's endless is darkened by the cloud of uncertainty.

At any rate, my toenails are red. I painted them just last week, and it's quite bright. It makes me happy. But, in spite of the name of this post, that is not the topic of this post. The topic was really a forewarning that I'll be back to writing smart-alecky comments. But I thought I'd give you a toenail-color-update to tie everything together.

Until Further Notice

I am on a blogging hiatus until further notice. I'm taking a vacation AND I may have to delete this blog and come up with a different one. Apparently employers are using blogs as excuses not to hire people when they find them via google. So, if and until the webmaster can figure out how to keep my name out of the websearch, I am on strike.

Under Pressure

Remember that old Boyz II Men song? Under press--ahhhre. Ahh ahh ahh ahh ahh.

Anyway. The exam begins in T minus 12 days. Feel free to start praying now. I know I"ll be P.U.S.H.-ing until then.

Talk to you in 2 weeks!

TV Women

I am soooooooooo opposed to tv women. Why don't they ever know anything about sports? Why don't they watch sports? Why do they insist on talking during football? why, why WHY?! They are constantly making major snafus like this, and I find it awful. They are giving us real women a bad name. Or are they? Quick, unofficial poll. Are women out there, those that did not grow up in the era of strict gender identities, really that clueless as to sports? I mean, really, you don't have to know the star players of every team, but at least know which teams go with which sports. SERIOUSLY!

Ok, that is all. Really I just didn't feel like studying anymore. ARGH.

Pick Up Lines

I was properly scolded today for not posting my good friend's greatest pick up line EVER. So, here goes:

How much does a polar bear weigh? Enough to break the ice. So, how are you doing? Wanna get together?

Ha Ha! Try it, it will work, the bearer of the Stick swears by it.

Curvy Girls Unite!

Woo hoo!!!!!!!! The fashion forecast says that we curvy girls have a light at the end of our tunnel. Yay and yay! The pants of the season come in two manners: itsy-bitsy teeny skinny pants. Including, ahem, lycra stretch pants. Stretch pants! I can't believe it, but it's true. The 80s have returned with a vengeance. The skinny pants are unbelievably tight, and not curve friendly, however, the fashion editors are convinced that the stretch pants are not the fashion tragedies of old. Looking at the pictures, I fail to see the difference between the stretch pants + baggy sweater combo of 2006 and 1986, but whatever. They didn't ask me did they? This is a fashion trend I've yet to co-sign on. We'll just have to wait and see how it looks live and in person.

I am, however, uber-ecstatic to report that the other manner of pants this season comes in "extreme" baggy. Basically, the slouch pants or stovepipe pants of a few years ago -- the early 00s. I can hardly contain my excitement. I've always enjoyed the fall season the most, but this year, I'm even ready to sign on to the "pre-fall" season. I want these pants NOW! I spied a pair that boasted a 28" leg opening. Surely even my disproportionately wide thighs will find a leg hole that fits without drowning my waist. Oh for joy for joy! Bless the designer that started this trend. I foresee huge credit card debt this year.

Additionally, shoes are thickening up. No more tottering on stilettos ladies. In addition to the continued growing market share of flats, the heeled shoes are moving from stilettos to stacks. Thank goodness. Just as I enter the workforce, shoes are becoming more practical, without losing that all important flair. Mary Janes are making a strong showing, complete with the roundtoe and the ankle strap. I also see some velvet in the future. Not particularly practical here in the snow belt, but I've always been one to carry the sexy shoes in the bag, and wearing the practical shoes on my feet while traipsing about outside.

I heart fashion that is made for the masses. Curvy-working-women, rejoice....and rejoice loudly ladies. If we out-spend those sickeningly skinny (ahem) women, we'll be heard and dominate the designers minds and hearts.....and most importantly, the ready-to-wear racks. (I look forward to hearing the whining of lack of hips/butt. Insert maniacal laugh here).

That's Atty pheebee to you...

That's right. As of Tuesday, it's official. My name is on the roll...:)!

AH ha ha ha ha ha

http://journals.aol.com/thecoolerblog/AOLNewsCooler/entries/925

Ha ha, sucker!

Do you ever get the feeling that Mother Nature is just screwing with you for kicks and giggles? For example, it's been raining in spurts here. Today, it started raining just as a fire alarm was pulled and the law building was emptied out. Then, when we came out of class, it had stopped raining. In fact, the ground was mostly dry. Those of us riding scooters did a mini-jig because no rain meant no need to leave your scooter behind. So I hop on my scooter, and upon reaching the intersection with Campus Drive, it started to sprinkle. Followed by the torrential summer downpour within 1 minute of the sprinkle. Awesome. I managed to get more wet than I would've if I'd walked through a car wash. Guess what. It stopped raining about 10 minutes after I walked into my apartment.

I'm starting to doubt the theory that the sound of thunder is God bowling. I'm thinking Mother Nature is just amused by screwing with us mortals.

So validated

http://www.slashfood.com/2006/05/29/chocolate-stimulates-the-brain/
Yes!

P.U.S.H.

For those of you that don't know, that's "Pray Until Something Happens." So this is a blog cum testimony. As we all know, the power of God is great. That's a given. And usually testimonies are filled with miracles and the huge and awesome things that have happened. So this is a mini-testimony, if you will.

So, last night, I was talking to the SIQ, and I was telling her how church didn't fit into the study schedule I'd formulated for myself, and that the shuffling of schedule looked like it would result in large and agonizing chunks of time spent reading about corporations and reviewing torts. It was a very sad and dire proposition. Well, the SIQ wasn't the only one who heard this 'cry.'

God actually granted me extra hours in a day. No, really! Last night, I'd gone to bed around my usual time, but I don't remember having much difficulty falling asleep. But here's where the real mini-miracle happened. I woke up at 545 a.m. for no apparent reason this morning. Like actually woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed. At first I figured it was a random wake-up due to a bathroom run. But I could not fall back asleep for anything. So instead, I picked up my barbri study book and read some more about corporations and got a decent amount of work done. I even had time to walk out in the warm sunny blue skies day and get a cuppa chai tea and a cinnamon roll. All a full hour before I had to start getting ready for church. Which I did, and then I attended, and came back. It's now 9:19, and for all practical purposes, I am finished for the night. There is some non-urgent stuff remaining, but I can't look at anything law related for another minute.

How's that for mini-amazing? Ahhh, "Blessed is the Lord, Oh my soul. Lord you are great." Psalms 104. Write that down. I heard it in church this a.m. How appropriate. :)

A man is never looking for directions....

This afternoon, I was walking merrily along a public sidewalk, minding my own business. As I was crossing the street, the SUVI was walking in front of honked at me. I noticed that it was either a BMW or a Saturn, either way, not a particularly foreboding vehicle. It's not the type of ride a man who is tryin' to holla at a honey in the street is rollin' up in, right? WRONG! My inference that the honk and the accented 'excuse me?' would be followed by a request for directions was wrong, dead wrong. I will give the gentleman points for using the non-offensive come-on of "I'm a little embarrassed to admit it, but I made a u-turn in hopes of getting your attention."

I was only slightly caught off-guard, and not at all attracted to this gentleman, but I allowed him to accompany me to lunch as requested. I declined the ride he offered me. Grant it, it was only 2 blocks, but I am generally not in the habit of climbing into stranger's vehicles. Lunch was ok (I paid, he didn't eat). The accent was Nigerian. He allegedly works in a legislative capacity. Today was his birthday. Ahem, 32. 32! This is obscene because...wait for it...he figured I was an undergrad. So, basically, you thought I was around 10-14 years your junior, and you're trying to holla? Um, gross? Find someone your own age!

Anyway, after the polite conversation was over, I got up to leave. Leaving him with only my email address. He offered me a ride home, I declined. He asked if he could insist. I declined again. (You can insist all you want playa, I'm still walking). Ew. Thanks for refraining from attempting contact ever again.

The moral of the story: a man who stops you in the street is never looking to ask you for directions.

While this was not a successful random meeting of a guy with potential; it was sufficiently amusing for a story. Which is nice. I thought I was up for several weeks of a total lack of life until the Bar Exam was behind me. So, all in all, neat!

Triple Threat??

Just a quick question for media gurus out there. In order to be classified as a triple threat, is it not a requirement that one is actually good at all 3 celebrity outlets? I am referring specifically to one former child of destiny. Apparently, in December she will be dropping a video, movie AND clothing line. And so she is now referred to as a triple threat. But here's the thing, homegirl can't act. Not at all. In fact, I vaguely remember critics lowering the number of stars the Austen Powers movie received because of her bad bad acting.

And, about the clothing line. Does she have any hand in designing it a la Sean John, or is she just signing her name a la what I suspect the Olsen twins are doing. Things that make you go hmmm...

Young'ns

There is a new island policy re: young'ns. From henceforth, I am choosing to give the young bucks a chance; but only to a certain point, of course. I've been reviewing the guys I've been interested in in the past couple years. During this review, I observed that I have had quite the habit of being into the guys that are adorably young. Grant it, I haven't been at risk of catching any cases (read: statutory rape). But, they have been as many as 2-3 younger. Sadly, they've also worked my nerves with their decor, BUT I figure this is probably going to be resolved in the next couple years.

Ok, so I have to try to be less condescending and more patient with regards to dress code and alcohol banners. (Challenging in and of itself). But otherwise, the young bucks have actually been more attentive and polite than the older ones. For example, opening car doors, returning phone calls, and general niceness. All good things.

In an unrelated note, there has been a permanent eviction of the ex (yeah that one) from the island. It's for real this time. Any sightings should be reported immediately to island security.

As if I needed another reason

This week has given me another reason not to move back to my hometown. Don't get me wrong. I do heart the Mil. And frankly, (to quote a particularly articulate friend of mine) it's home, and that's all it ever has to be. (I'm ignoring the insulting remarks made by people who've never been here, such as "if you live in milw, who's going to visit you?" Well, if people are too shallow to come visit me once in a while, and they don't live somewhere fabulous themselves to warrant that fact, then they can kiss my john brown hind parts thankyouverymuch).

Rant aside, I don't want to move back home because I don't know that many people here. I'd have to start building a social network all over again. And that is just a huge all-encompassing chore that I'm not really willing to undertake. At least if you're new in town you can accomplish this task a little bit more easily. But when you have a small group of frirneds, you sort of get stuck in a rut. A rut I am currently experiencing and am none-to-pleased about.

At any rate. I think I'm just bitter because I'm on vacation and in on a bar night. I have absolutely no one else I can call to go out with. People are either sick or just not returning calls or just not going out. Argh. I am ready for that fabulous and exciting life that everyone promised me. 25 is not turning out to be the fantastic year turnaround I'd hoped for. :\

Old Enough to Know Better

In 8.5 hours I will officially be old enough to know better. But as an acquaintance told me, I don't look a day over 21, so if anyone asks, tomorrow is my 21st birthday. Actually, I grew up around women who never concealed/altered/or really showed much interest in their age other than it being a mere number. I think I will likewise follow suit. (However, I see no reason for full disclosure unless asked first.)

Anyway, the sad part about celebrating this milestone is that it's quite anti-climatic. I mean really, what kind of party can you expect when the party of the century was thrown a mere 10 days earlier. Graduating from law school and sharing the immense joy and relief that goes with it eclipses and trumps a birthday by far. To paraphrase Seinfeld: all I did was not die for another year. (Shout out to God for keeping me alive and such).

I think it may be time to implement my five year plan, however. I'm finished with school, so I officially plan to start having a big-girl life. I have no idea what that entails, however. I imagine I should figure that out in the next few hours, but I've perfected the art of procrastination. Why should I waste that talent?

I would like to tentatively put on the 5 year plan an attempt @finding a man that doesn't irritate me; and hopefully one that I can tolerate long enough to actually date for a significant amount of time. I'd rather not be dateless at the inevitable barrage of weddings that are soon to come. I expect at least 2 wedding invitations in the coming year. And my older friends tell me it only gets worse from there. Arrgh. Although, that does mean wedding cake. Mmmmm wedding cake.

I once heard about a wedding that didn't have cake. They had pie instead. TOTALLY UNACCEPTABLE! And I once went to a wedding where the daughters from the previous marriage had made the cake. EQUALLY UNACCPETABLE! Hear ye, hear ye: An official island proclamation. If you're inviting me to a wedding, there'd better be cake. Store-bought cake people. What kind of mickey mouse operations are you inviting me to? And for the record, I'm fine with grocery store cake. In fact, I heart grocery store cake greatly. But do not, do NOT, attempt to pass off Betty Crocker or a kringle or freakin' blueberry pie as an appropriate nuptial dessert. A violation of this proclamation will result in a supremely hideous and/or cheap gift. FYI. Write that down.

Psuedodate

Remember aforementioned guy, who asked me out, who was meant to be mere entertainment for a little while. Well, he is far more confusing than entertaining. I have had a total of 2 pseudodates with this guy (hence where he obtained his nickname) and 0 actual dates. Let me explain...

Our first meeting was at a coffee shop, where he and I agreed to meet so he could give me the tickets to the party he was throwing. So, we met up, stayed and chatted for about an hour, etc. But this isn't technically a date right? Even though he did invite me to lunch with friends he was meeting up with. But still not a real date.

Second meeting occurs after he completely flaked on the graduation party AND a promise to call me the very next day. (I ended up busting him at a bar, and it was especially hysterical because he actually kept cursing himself for forgetting.) Anyway, so second meeting actually started out as a date. He invited me to his place to cook me dinner. When I call to ask for directions, he informs me that he invited another friend over too. Turning an actual date into a pseudodate.

On top of it all, he's actually not all that exciting. Speaks very highly of himself and is young. So young that he's got a Bacardi banner in his apt. (Eye roll). I was condescending when I pointed it out, I realize. But still, why do you have a Bacardi banner in your apt? Or a flag of a pot leaf in your bedroom while I"m at it. Yargh. I think I may be rid of this guy before June.

Was I thinking at all?!?

It rained for about 3 weeks straight here. Ok, I'm exaggerating, but there was at least 5 straight days of rain. And that got me to thinking: at what point during 2nd semester did I have a personality transplant? On what planet did I think it was a good idea for me to move to Seattle? Granted, I only gave it a hot minute's worth of thought, but still. It really didn't deserve that much consideration! Seriously! I HATE RAIN! And it rains 2 out of 3 days in Seattle. Therefore, under no circumstances should I live there. Get outta here! Yeesh.

This certainly isn't the first time I've had a "what was I thinking?" moment. But honestly, this may be the most extreme case I've ever had. Clearly the stress of law school and graduation was getting to me. But, I'm happy to report that I have had a return of my senses. (Thank goodness).

Now, where was I...

Ah yes. Graduation. The sister I never wanted, but never knew I needed drove up from IA to be my mom's official photographer and get inducted into the biological family. She arrived on Thurs night, and the shenanignans began even earlier than anticipated:

We went to get sushi mere minutes after her arrival. However, shortly after arrival, we witnessed an attempted burglary. (Not to be confused with a robbery, which involves weapons). Ok, so we didn't actually witness the attempted theft. All we saw was a slight scuffle, with a guy yelling "you owe me a refund!". Followed by one of the cooks putting him in a sleeper hold. We were huddled in a 2 inch corner, trying to avoid becoming collateral damage. In the end, nothing was actually damaged, the resto got the money back, and the guy waited calmly until the police came to arrest him. He even politely let us pass when we needed to get out of our corner. It was a very strange experience.

Ok, after that, things went smoothly. We had good times at the graduation and the dinner. Followed by a sweet night at Mondays on Saturday night. Saturday night actually started out fairly slow, but then the Blue Steel bartenders kept feeding us free shots. Three shots in 30 minutes makes for a night of drunk dials and taking pictures with random people.

All in all, a darn good time!

Lots of Changes

Well, stuff has actually been happening lately. Namely, I graduated baby! The ceremony was nice, all though some of the speeches made me do a head tilt. I was, however, distracted for most of the time because I was busy worrying about where I'd last had my right earring. Now, losing an earring is not normally a traumatic experience, except I'd worn these for precisely 2 hours and 3 minutes. However, they were eventually found -- in the backseat of my car of all places. I suspect it fell out of my ear and into my car when I had to run back and grab my wayward tassle. Anyway, the panic subsided shortly after finding the earring. And so I was able to shake my groove thang calmly at the graduation party.

.

Ok, I hafta go get ready for my date. To be continued....

eeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh my goodness! It's finally hit me, in a good way. I'm graduating on Friday. FRIDAY! Do you know when Friday is? It's 4 days from today. It's the end of THIS WEEK! EEEEEEEEEEE!

Night Out

So last night, I amused myself by going out to The Climax -- a party hosted by the gentlemen of Alpha Phi Alpha. I must say it was generally enjoyable. Although, there was an incident.

So, I go to the dance floor with another girl to get our groove on. As we're out there, she's approached by a guy that she knows. She proceeds to introduce us. Anyway, he's talking some trash about how we thundercats don't know about it. Apparently he's older than your average undergrad. So, to prove that I know all about the dance, I proceed to show my prowess on the dance floor...and then get left by the girl that introduced us. Which was ok, not like she left the building or anything.

Anyway, we're dancing. And "Check Up On It" comes on, and I am all kinds of excited. As I shake my groove thing, he not-at-all discreetly examines my groove thing. Complete with commentary "aww, let me see it, let me take a look." To be fair, I was being obnoxious about imitating the dance in the video, and so I found his comment less insulting and more funny. Then we continue to dance, and OH MY GOODNESS is he really attempting to touch my, oh no wait, he's just tall and didn't realize that he nearly touched my. Ok, I"ll just put my hands in my pockets to keep him from getting confused, OH MY GOODNESS you simply canNOT make that same mistake twice. Who does he think he is? Is there a sign up that requests gratuitous groping of my puhbic area? And why aren't you as smart as Pavlov's dogs, you keep reaching even though you keep getting blocked you not-so-sly like the jungle cat sexual harasser. Oh thank goodness, here comes some guy that wants to talk to him, I see my escape. Oh crap, he caught me. "I need to go check on my girl, I'll be right back" (In a pig's eye I will).

Then it's the end of the night, and do you know he asked for my phone so he could put his number in it? (After more gratuitous and all around sleazy touching -- this time limited to my midsection). Yeah. Right. Sure. I'll "scream" at you alright. Uh huh. riiiiiiiiiight. Wonder if he's holding his breath?

Frangelico

If I may rip off an advertisement: Fate is what happens when the unexpected becomes pleasurable. I had a weekend of fate this past weekend.

The last few days have been filled with unexpected pleasures. On Friday, I went out with a couple girls for a night on the town. What started out as a slow night at a restaurant-cum-bar-at-night ended up being a flirty night at a day of the week bar. The second bar is known for serving super-strong drinks cheaply. It is also a bar that I often end up being wingwoman extraordinare for my friends. On this particular night out, my friend said she wanted to see me approach a guy. (I'm not entirely sure why, but whatever). Apparently, my previous wingwoman-ing doesn't count as approaching.

While we were standing about, drinking and people watching, we were approached by a rather persistent guy. Looks-wise, he could probably get an honorable mention, but was nothing to write home about. He was very talkative, however. He also gets the persistence award for tracking down my email address and asking me about my friend as a follow-up from Friday. While I was slightly creeped out (until I figured out he was also a student), I was impressed with his tenacity. He also had a friend, who shared a name with Superfly from two years ago. He also had an uncanny resemblance to Superfly. But for the fact that he was living in Madison and hadn't yet gone to grad school, I would have thought it was him. That was pretty eerie.

At the end of the night, I did end up approaching a guy. I use the term "approaching" loosely. He was walking past and I made a smart-alecky comment. He must have been vaguely amused, because he made an appointment to continue our conversation post-bar run. Sadly, I was summoned to leave by my ride before he returned. I was kind enough to tell him that I was leaving, however, walking the 20 feet to the bar to say goodbye. Get this, I got a fundraising party invite for Thursday AND he asked for my phone number. Then he USED the phone number the very next day. Craziness! I haven't made the call as to where I stand with him. The conversation was fairly clever, but I haven't yet decided whether he can keep up with my sarcasm. Either way, I've got to shake him by the end of July, because I will be leaving, and I am in not in the market for a long-distance relationship with someone I just met....I tried that once, and it wasn't to great results. Incidentally, he has a faint resemblance to that very person I made that attempt with. Ha. Fate must be chuckling in amusement.