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.)