Purposefully Seeking OCD

I’m going to admit something.. you probably already know, but something I’ve kept hidden from myself. Its how I process, I know this.. I just… well.. its hard to see what you’re hiding from yourself, because… well.. you’re hiding it from yourself.

See how that works?

I’ve been trying to re-build my life for years, with the most progress happening this last year since the divorce. I may or may not have had a “breakdown” years ago. Its hard to say, and never was diagnosed. But looking back, I have to wonder.

All I know is that somewhere along the way, I forgot how to be a functional human being. I honestly blame my ex, but in reality I should blame myself. I stayed where I should have fled.

I’m discovering little things on my road back to humanity. I forgot what it was like to take joy in doing something for absolutely no reason other than I wanted to. I forgot what it was like to actually get a real paycheck for real services rendered. I forgot that pride.

People used to call me “Monica”.. remember Monica from friends.. she was OCD, reserved, a great cook. Everything had its place. It drove her crazy when something wasn’t where it belonged.

Thats how I used to be. Seriously. Everything had its place. Somehow during the battle with my ex (who believed that everything went wherever he decided to leave it, and that fairies would move it back to its spot), up until even today, that particular OCD has gone away. (not fully, but for the most part yes.)

I was actually having a conversation with my best friend where she began to talk about how she now has my OCD… well not exactly, she’s much more of a clean-freak than I ever was. I started looking around my apartment and realized that.. I no longer have any of the “functional” parts of my OCD.

Seriously, its like apathy has taken over OCD. Like I am (was) functioning defeated. Like I’d given up.

So I’ve decided that I’m going to get it back. I’m happier with things in their place. I’m happier with a cleaner/neater apartment.

And so, I’ve been slowly digging myself out of this hole I’ve built. I can almost see my dining room table again.

I’m making a new list of “rules” and will be practicing doing them until I get back to where I was… ok maybe not the insane OCD crap.. but functional. Where I can have someone over maybe without saying “Oh, umm.. just close your eyes.”

(Btw, I have managed to rid myself of my “I need this” hoarding OCD, which I am not seeking to take up again. Thanks but that’s one I can do just fine without.)

**** For you that are grossing yourselves out with your imaginations, please understand that my mess is clean mess. I don’t have left over food containers all over, or crumbs everywhere. Its just old things to get rid of, papers to file, clothes to give to goodwill.. and some canned goods to put away.

Where Did I Put My Time Machine?

I really don’t think I fit in. I must have been born at the wrong time, or have some kind of brain tumor.

All the girls that I meet that are my age. Scare the crap out of me.

If I go about 5 yrs older, I seem to fare better.. but going about 7 yrs younger is about right.. or the closest I’ve seen.

The girls I meet that are my age are either married and pretty cool. Though their tastes in music, activities, and what they find attractive in men is often completely different from me.

The single gals my age that I’m meeting though.. are complete nightmares. Ok, one or two exceptions, but most of then scare the crap out of me.

I obviously missed the sex-attraction of the Bon Jovi and Guns-n-Roses craze. Tall skinny assed white boys with long scraggly hair is so much the opposite of anything I find attractive, yet most of the girls I’m meeting my age still find this look hot. (To me, Bon Jovi didn’t get hot until he cut his hair.. and then I reacted with “OMG he really is a man.”)

I suppose I should be happy that their tastes lie outside of my interest range, but it makes it hard to find things in common. As I’ve mentioned previously, I can’t do hair band music on a regular basis, nor can I do long periods of “classic 70’s rock”… both after a while (much shorter time span on the 70’s rock btw) make me wish I was on something to endure it. And since I don’t do drugs.. its not that fun.

But I keep trying. I keep thinking that there has to be at least one other woman my age who likes the stuff I like and isn’t way damn crazy.

This really shouldn’t be a shock to me. Since I grew up in a small town with anti-social parents, and went to a church regularly which no one in town went to… I was pretty isolated. Other than the close neighbors (one boy my age), every kid I knew or hung out with outside of school was about 4 years older than me or 4 years younger than me (my church had no one within 4 years of my age either direction). I never really did connect much with the kids in my class.

So maybe its just habit of always being thrown in with an older crowd or a much younger crowd? Maybe its just been too many years of being independent and doing my own thing?

I suppose while others were watching men grow their hair out and jamming to their hair band music.. I was watching Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers black and whites on PBS. Or specials with Sammy Davis Jr, Sinatra, and their like.

You put a well groomed, clean shaven, smart short cut haired man into a suit or tux, and you’ve caught my eye. If he can also dance like Astaire or Gene Kelly, I’m swooning. If he can also croon a good tune, I’m completely smitten and will stalk him for the rest of his life.

Which is probably why I have a pretty good crush on Matthew Morrison (Glee). (He’s probably gay though.. if he’s not, there’s probably a line acround the corner of women trying to catch him and I’m a little too lazy for that. I’ll see if I can’t find someone like him who is “undiscovered’ instead.)

Speaking of “Undiscovered”.. one of my favorite albums.. Undiscovered by James Morrison. Luv luv luv. (see… no ADD here at all!)

But back to the point.. Finding women my age who like this kind of music.. is hard. Sadly its just as difficult to find men my age that have similar tastes.. Or maybe its just my luck I’m not finding them?

Or I might just be a transplant from another era… lost in this time..

My Meeting With The Playas

The other night I went out with Evie and a friend of hers. In all honesty, I went for the possibility of meeting someone, yet with the full expectation of being completely bored out of my mind. A group of 3 girls almost always leaves one as the third wheel, and since Evie’s friend and her were childhood friends, I fully expected to be the third wheel.

But I needed to go out, and nothing else that night sounded even remotely entertaining.

We went to a play and then the after-party. It was a small production with a small audience. It was ok. Some of the actors, you could tell were naturally talented and the rest were really trying to be. It was at least entertaining.

Then about 20 minutes from the end, I see Evie’s ex? I guess thats who he is. I can’t remember if they’d had sex or exactly what… But I do know that she’s at least seen his penis, and helped him get off. They’re “friends” now, but with Evie that could be FwB or just platonic friends. Its really hard to say.

Evie can’t go a night without a guy. During the show, she’d texted him to meet her there. So when I saw him come in.. I knew what had happened and I rolled my eyes.

It doesn’t help that I just cannot stand the guy. I avoid him like he’s got cooties. He comes off as needy and desperate. And I’ve got the feeling that any woman will do for him as long as she’s mildly attractive (not hideous), and not illegal. (I guess I should be thankful he has some standards huh?)

Plus.. from Evie, I know WAY more that I ever wanted to about his sexual interests and erm.. proclivities. If I wasn’t interested by the fact that he looks like a doofus, or by the fact that he acts like he’s only out for getting laid and desperately at that, then his sexual preferences alone would have sealed the deal for me that I wasn’t going to touch him with a 10 foot pole.

After the show was over, and while we waited for the after-party to start, I found out that Trey had brought two friends with him.

Techincally he brought one friend, who brought his friend.. but thats just me nitpicking.

So we’re standing around, and these two guys join our group. I of course wonder who they are, and Evie introduces them.

I honestly don’t remember their names. So I’m gunna make up some names.

The first one was chatty, but from the moment he opened his mouth, my lady parts shuddered and recoiled. Jessie’s voice was a little .. umm.. too high and he talked with just a slight lisp. Had he not talked about screwing women, I would have sworn he was gay. He was around my height, but with delicate bone structure. His wrists were even dainty. The thought of him having sex with a woman quite frankly made me giggle… a lot.

He talked as if he was Mr. MacDaddy which wasn’t helping the situation any. Maybe he does get all the girls. Who knows.. I just find it immensely unbelievable. To be honest, I found the idea of him and Trey being secret lovers much much more believable.

The third guy, Bill, was shy and completely did not fit with the other two. He was new to town, so I excused his judgement in friends. He had long hair and was Native American. He actually was kind of sweet, but way too young. That didn’t keep him from attempting to hit on me though. So cute, in an adorable little boy way (I know.. just the way guys hope to be seen right?), but about an hour or so later he admitted his age and he was barely legal. WAY too young for me, and thus I was right in thinking of him as a little boy.

So none of them were at all.. in any way.. potential interests of mine. This actually made the night more fun, because they ALL thought that I’d be happy to have them.

Dear Men… I am not that desperate.. and will never be that desperate.. Sorry.

So the party got started, and people started going back inside. It was hot inside. Like sauna hot. I went in to be social for a bit, but found my way outside rather quickly. The last thing I needed was to be miserable on top of this potential boredom.

A few minutes later, one guy after the other came outside as well. Soon it was myself and the three guys.

We began to talk. Jessie kept giving the youngin’ Bill some MacDaddy advice, which I would then critique and tell him how to do it better. Then Jessie saw that as a sign to out do himself. It became this challenge to show me how much of a MacDaddy he was. I couldn’t have secretly laughed at him more. At one point he said:

“I shouldn’t tell you because you’ll hate me.”

To which I replied, “If I don’t hate you by now, I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you can come up with.”

He stammered and still pretended to be all gentlemanly in refusing to divulge his scoundrel secrets in my presence.

“Ok.. by hate you.. what did you mean by that?”

Jessie turned red, and so I continued…

“If you mean by hate you, that I would no longer want to have sex with you.. let me put your mind at ease.. that ship sailed within the first minutes of meeting you. So just say what you were going to say.”

He looked at me agast, and then did his best to recover. He tried to ask what it was that turned me off, but I simply brushed him off with a “Eh, you’re not my type.” (Rather than telling him that he reminded me of some gay friends from college.) He retorted with a “Oh well at least we’re on the same page.” which made me laugh.

Yes yes… I can be a bitch, but I honestly cared not at all what this guy or his friends thought of me.

So he continues about his rules for “dating” which were quite frankly steps to have a one night stand. He did pretty much every cliche’ without actually mentioning roofies, though he did mention that getting a girl completely plowed so she’d not remember how to get back to his place later. I know.. a charmer. I of course added rules for him, and instead told him that he should just go to her place. No one can say I’m not helpful. 🙂

If I’m not interested in dating you, and I’m pretty sure you’re harmless (or at least that even the smallest woman could kick your ass), I’m more than willing to share my knowledge to help you get laid.. by someone else. 🙂 Its just how I roll.

Bill however was really enjoying the conversation and cursing that he had no way to take notes. The poor guy. In reality all Bill would have to do to get laid is to hang out with these two morons he was with, then go appologize to the girls later and state that he was new to town. He was sweet, honest, and not bad looking.. and following the wake of the other two guys, he’d look like the catch of the day.

Trey however was not liking the conversation. He instead was trying desperately to convince me that his playboy past was over (like I really believed he had a playboy past), and he was now looking for a real relationship. He was not grasping the idea that I could have cared less about what he was looking for.. I was not interested.. yet he continually tried to impress me with his “seeking a relationship” self.

When we began to discuss ages.. Trey started it by saying he was 40 (he looks maybe 34) and how 30 was the new 20 for him. The others also stated their ages, and then came my turn, which I declined. They were 19, 31, and 40.. and I just let them believe whatever age they thought I was. Generally I’m assumed to be in my late 20’s or early 30’s, so I figure they thought I was.

Then Trey began commenting on the music that was wafting outside from the party.

“I used to skate to this back in ’78”

Which we all would tease him about making himself sound ancient. Heck I’m not much younger than him, and even I thought he sounded old the things he was saying.

It was one “I’m old” statement after anouther which kept me entertained by teasing him about how old he was making himself sound and “Thats the way to win the Ladies, man.” sarcasm. I honestly don’t think he understood just exactly how off-putting his “remember when” was, or would be to younger women.. when their parents would be the ones saying those “remember whens”.

We were outside talking for a couple hours before the other two girls came out, and we all parted ways.

All in all it was a good night.. Lots of fun (for me anyway.)

Follow Friday Drama: Count Me Out

I’m a bad girl. I’ve been scolded. I’ve been unfollowed. I’ve been blocked and unblocked and reblocked again. In this activity, I have been told with whom I can and cannot be friends or suffer the same treatment.

For those of you not “in the know”, there is a major rift dividing the Dating Blogger world.  There are two people who do not get along (ok more than two, but there are essentially two sides) and for the purpose of this post.. I’ll call them Blogger A, and Blogger B.

They both have their reasons of why they are fighting, and each feels fully justified in their stances and behaviors.

Blogger A vehemently disagreed with Blogger B’s initial posts and attitude, and honestly Blogger A’s position was not unfounded.  Blogger A then decided that Blogger B needed correcting.

Blogger B has posted some great posts and some “OMG you have to be posting this just for the controversy” posts.  Blogger B’s initial posts and attitude even had myself thinking that Blogger B needed some education.  But over time Blogger B has grown to be an excellent dating blogger.

However, Blogger A’s initial “attack” on Blogger B, caused Blogger B to be hurt and wounded. And the fight escalated.

Both Bloggers have their benefits and their detriments. Both at one time or another, I’ve considered to be friends of mine.

Blogger A is not an easily likable person. Blogger A is often negative and judgmental in their approach to people and situations.  This makes for good reading, and good discussion. Blogger A has a great following of dedicated readers who love that no-bullshit approach. It’s actually one of the things that first drew me to Blogger A’s blog.  Plus the fact that Blogger A allows me to disagree without fear of retribution.

Blogger B is a very nice person and has grown to blog very nicely. Blogger B has a great perspective on dating and life, and their posts are always insightful. Blogger B has grown a good following based in their fresh perspective and flirty ways. Blogger B truely has a very sweet-heart personality once you get to know them.

I sort of understand Blogger A’s perspective on Blogger B, but yes I do think that an apology from Blogger A is needed.  But both sides have spread rumors and bad talked each other. No one is an angel here.

I also do not like being forced to choose a side. I’m no longer in HS. I no longer feel the need to deal with this.

I’ve known Blogger A almost since my “birth” here. Blogger A’s been nothing but nice to me. Blogger A has never lashed out at me for being friends with Blogger B. Blogger A did mention it once, but has not (to my knowledge) held it against me.

Blogger B and I are recent friends. We started rocky as I disagreed with Blogger B’s initial attitude and perspective. I got blocked and wasn’t told why. Then Blogger B’s attitude changed and I started liking what Blogger B was saying and posting. Through strange round about ways, Blogger B deemed me safe to talk to and unblocked me. The blocking it turned out had to do with my friendship with Blogger A.

Then today, I posted some #FF tweets. Including both of them in the same tweet.

I’m told I lost followers. Blogger B has unfollowed me again. (and to tell you the truth, it hurts every time someone blocks me. it shouldn’t, but it does.)

I am a peacemaker. I don’t like to be in the middle of fights, and will do my best to resolve the situation. I’ve tried, but it is no use.

So I’m done. I don’t do this politics crap.. I never have.

If you want to be my friend.. be my friend. I won’t be toyed with, or given ultimatums. I won’t let you dictate who I can and cannot associate with.  If you don’t like my friends, thats fine.. not everyone likes everyone.. I won’t require you to like them. I also won’t require you to drop a friend that happens to be an enemy of mine. (Hell I hung out with friends of Hock’s last night without a problem)

I either trust you as a friend or I don’t.  You either trust me as a friend or you don’t.

But I tell you both this.. Blogger A and Blogger B.. until you two can live as friends, I will not RT or Mention either of you on Twitter. I will not be publicly friends with either of you, as your fighting has now really hurt me.

Its days like today, that I am ashamed to be among the “Dating Bloggers”.

Gimme A Naked Man

So I went out last night. It was a friend’s birthday party, Crissy, and so it was an obligation as well as I needed to get out.

I’d love to pretend for you all that I’ve not written because I’ve been extremely busy dating and going out and meeting people, but that would be lies.  Instead, I’ve been battling some very painful sickness, which at one point had me seriously considering suicide. I know, scared the hell out of me too.  So I’ve not really been out much at all, and have been hermitting to a point of extremely scary. When you’re sick, you just don’t feel social unless you’re one of those girls that likes people to feel sorry for her and bring her soup and fluff her pillows. I’m much too independant for that. My arm could be cut off and I’d still want to do the tournequet myself. You actually know I’m desperately ill (aka get worried) when I actually request help or let you do things for me.

So I’ve not been social lately, partly because I didn’t want to, and partly because I didn’t want people to see me like that. Yes, I have my vanity. So I haven’t had much to write about or much want to write really.

But I’ve been feeling a little better, and for the last few days, had an extreme need to go out and be social… if nothing else have a drink.

So I went to Chrissy’s birthday bash. I get there just in time to see Chrissy in a conga line with several others. Yeah, it was gunna be a good night baby!

There were about 20-30 people there as part of Chrissy’s group and I met maybe 10 of them. A few of the girls I knew from before and were ok, but a couple of the new girls.. well.. lets say wow. (yes, thats not a good wow)

So the “cool” people were all hanging out and catching up on each others lives. Whats new.. whats old.. and Ooo did you hear.. While listening to music, doing a jig, and drinking.

We then moved the party over to the karaoke room. A few of us gathering at tables to watch the show. We’re joking and laughing and parts of the party were staying for a few then leaving then coming and leaving..

Then this attractive man shows up. Sees me. Smiles, and comes over jokes with me and sits down next to me.

He’s dressed well, showing he has some taste other than tshirts and jeans, but not dressed well enough to set off my douchebag sensors.

For Chrissy’s birthday, someone had given her a small leather flogger. Getty was holding it and playing with it next to me and Wade (the attractive man next to me).

Seriously, introduce a flogger to a group of drunk people and you’ll never look at any of them the same way again. I promise.

I teased Getty about her being a masochist since she kept hitting herself with it (not hard, just tapping it against her side), and she informed me that she had one at home. Boggle. Though I really should not be surprised, I was.

I do not have a flogger yet, but I assure you I will soon.

So Wade jumps in the conversation, half teasing Getty, but full on flirting with me. After my month or more of hermitville, I was surprised and flattered, and more than willing to flirt back.

This broke out my evil side. Most people don’t realize (at least right away) that I am truely evil. Sure sure, I may sound and look a little too reserved or be a little too goody goody.. but I am all about encouraging others to do things they shouldn’t.

Wade watched in amusement as I prodded Getty into using the flogger more seriously, and on other people. Random men walking by.. “Oh he looks like he’s been a very bad boy.. Getty, you know he needs a little spanking..”

The evil glimmer in my eye was sparkling brightly and Wade was eating it up. Then I turned Getty on him. Telling him that he looked like he needed a little something, that he wanted to be spanked. I even teased that I could do it properly.

He squirmed in his chair and discouraged Getty and pleaded with me to stop encouraging her. I just grinned evilly, and winked at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m evil. I can’t help it. And you do look like you’re in need of it.”

He flashed me a smile, and a look that said “If only I could put you over my knee.”

Then Mr. DrunkenPants happened, and Getty went to help him. He was supposedly part of our group. He was about 30? and so drunk that he was nauseated.

This interupted our sexy banter, but also left Wade and I alone to talk. The song turned country, and I mentioned to Wade that I found it strange how much of the karaoke picks were country music. (Most Austin karaoke seems to be rock btw) He responded that he liked country music and asked what I liked. I flirtingly responded that I liked a bit of everything.

I told him that I grew up on country music (I did) and had a bit of nostalgic love for it. He wanted to know what kind. The old twang or the new more rock-like country. I said both, and told him about my college years going to country bars to dance two-step.

He heard two-step, and insisted that I go dance with him. There was no saying no (Seriously sexy),  despite my pleading that I did not have dancing shoes on. I had on purpose worn flipflops that would make dancing difficult so I wouldn’t be tempted to go club dance with Chrissy and injure my knees. I didn’t expect anyone showing up to like to country dance.  Next time I’ll know better.

So he whisks me off to the dance floor. I’m stepping on toes and having trouble following.

1. because I’m rusty with my two-step.

2. the song was two-step in double time (like two-step on fast forward)

3. I’m concentrating on not losing my shoes.

But I managed to pull it off, and we had a great dance.

As we walked off the dance floor, he held my hand, moving his fingers to interlace with mine. I did not want to return to our group. I was all “take me home now buddy”. (yeah its been a while since I’ve had sex, stop judging me) 🙂

As we get a few feet off the dance floor, we both seem to realize that we’ve just met and realize we’re holding hands, fingers interlaced, and we stop holding hands. It was one of those moments.. like being drunk in a dark bar and kissing someone, and then when they turn the lights on to go home, you realize just how much you’re in public.

We walked back to the group together. Talking and flirting. When we’d returned, Getty shot me a look like “you go girl”… then drunk girl happened.

This girl who honestly looked trashy, was drunk and Getty had witnessed her doing a full on makeout session in the other room with some guy, returned to our group and latched herself onto Wade pushing me away. Wade looked at me pleadingly to help him.

I tried, but she would not be swayed. She was quite intent on owning Wade, and he was nicely trying to extract her. The more I tried, the more closely she clung. Wade all the while appologizing to me, and complaining about her.

It was then that I was informed that our group was being kicked out because Mr. DrunkenPants had puked on the floor. (Seriously, it was like college deja vu)

We were all meeting at another place. A strip joint.

I’d been warned about this prior to going to the party that the night would end at a local strip joint. Since I’d never been to one before, I decided it might be a good time to go check it out.

Wade was being responsible and trying to arrange rides for those who were too drunk to drive. Since I was stone cold sober, I offered my services. Mostly I offered them because I didn’t want drunkgirl trying to go with him in his car, and partly because I was hoping that he’d take up the offer himself. He unfortunately was completely sober too, but he did jump on my offer to take drunkgirl. He was very consistent in his not wanting to be with her.

So after what seemed like hours of trying to manipulate drunk people.. drunkgirl got in my car (put there by Wade himself) and Getty drove the Mr Drunkenpants car to his place about a mile away and I was to pick her up there.

As I take off, Drunkgirl starts telling me about Wade, revealing to me that she and Wade are good friends. She and Mr DrunkenPants are also good friends. It was myself and Getty that were the new people to the group.

At this news, I was no longer very happy with Wade. If she was really his friend, it was his responsiblity to take her drunk ass home.. not mine. The more she talked, the more I realized. I am quite certain that Wade and her are FWB friends, and his displeasure stemmed less from revulsion of her and more of being pissed that she’d f’d things up for him with anyone else.

I really try not to judge people, but I fail all the time. After seeing this girl, I’m not sure I want any penis that’s been near her to be anywhere near me. I’m quite sure Wade has no idea what hill he’ll have to climb to get back on my good side. He may even need a full delousing as well as a note from his doctor.

Drunkgirl also entertains me with stories about how she’s not that drunk, despite claiming that she doesn’t know where she lives, and that she walks like the world is tilting from side to side. She was dressed in clothes that were obviously too small for her that made me wonder what industrial strength thread was holding up the seams. She tells me got divorced 3 yrs ago as proof that this is just a one time thing, an emotional release. I refrain from telling her that my ex left me a litttle over a year ago, and I just signed papers letting him sell the house so him and his girlfriend can go buy a new lovenest closer to the city.

She repeats that she’s not that drunk. At least 20 times on the way to pick up Getty.

At Mr DrunkenPant’s place, Getty is still trying to pry him out of his car. She’s being too damn nice, I think, but thats Getty.  So I get out and tell Drunkgirl to get out and help her friend into his house. She doesn’t move.

I am by this point lividly pissed at the entire situation.

Mr. DrunkenPant’s is complaining about me that he doesn’t know me or Getty. (Dear Mr. DrunkenPants, When getting drunk, make sure you have at least one friend who’ll drive you home. And don’t complain about the niceness of strangers. Thanks)  So I go get Drunkgirl and tell her that her friend is complaining that he doesn’t know us and I point blank tell her to get her ass out of my car and help him.

She does. Finally.

She leads Mr. DrunkenPants to his bathroom, and I try to snag Getty to get her to leave with me so we can ditch both of them there. Getty insists she needs to obey Mr DrunkenPant’s wishes and calls the place where his daughter is staying asking them to keep her overnight. (Its midnight, I think they’ve already figured that out. But she calls anyway.)

So as soon she can, Drunkengirl runs back out to my car and plants herself in it. No choice but to take her with us.

We finally take off to go to the Cabaret, and half the ride there Drunkgirl is telling us she’s not that drunk, and that she’s a responsible person. I stop myself from telling her she’s overselling it.  She then gets out her phone and calls Wade. (Yes they are good friends. Asshole.) She then proceeds to bitch out Wade for putting her in a car with strangers.

I correct her “No no.. we’re strange bitches.”

She tells him, and continues on her rant calling us strangers and how dare he…

I correct her again.. “No no.. we are psychotic crazy women”

She tells him that exactly. (Hey I have to get some fun out of this)

We arrive at the Cabaret and she’s still on the phone with him. She doesn’t exit the car.

“Please get out of my car so I can lock it.”

She grumbles and gets out. I lock the car and run off toward the entrance with Getty. Drunkengirl follows, but never actually enters the establishment.

We presume she doesn’t have the $10 cover.

Due to all the shenanigans, Getty and I are late and we’ve lost half the party. Wade is no where to be seen, so I can’t even bitch at him myself.

So Getty and I find our own corner and sit down. I watch the show trying to simmer down and have fun. This is my first time at a strip club, so I wanted to relax and watch and see what all the commotion is about.

What I’m seeing is a combination of gymnastics, high heels, and no clothes.. plus a few moves you can see on any club dance floor anywhere.  A couple girls were talented and impressive, but most were merely flexible girls showing their goods. B O R I N G.

Now I might be more entertained had there been a couple nearly naked men doing it, but if I want to see tities shake I can do that in my mirror at home. Thats at least more fun because I can challenge myself to get them to shake in different ways or do different things.. But there was no challenge and no fun to be had.

It didn’t help any that I was tired I’m sure.

Getty however was all into it. I really think she’s gay (for more reasons than just this btw), but she has to realize that herself. She was oohing and ahhing over the girls.. or at least some girls.. and even got a lap dance. Even though the lap dance was happening right next to me, I got distracted by the lights or something, because I only saw a bit of it and then when I looked back the girl was putting her clothes back on. It has become glaringly obvious to me that women are not my thing.

Despite my family’s confusion once in thinking that I and my best friend were lesbian lovers, and despite that sometimes men piss me off to the point of wanting to give up on men completely… I just have never had a thing for women. My friends and I have never had girly snuggling sessions. I’ve never kissed a girl nor have I been tempted to. The closest to gay I’ve gotten was when I was 8 or 10 or something and a girlfriend came over for a sleepover. She convinced me to play a doctor type thing, where we sucked on each others nipples. It seemed weird at the time and meant absolutely nothing. It felt like the equivalent of being licked in the face by my dog. A little bit of Eww.

I’ve never really understood some girls’ draw to each other for physical affection, kissing, teasing, playing, or sex. I’m just not wired that way.

Now.. give me a naked man.. Thats a whole different story.

Something In The Water

I attended SXSWi last week. It was fun, and tiring, and scary. There is something funky in the water in Austin during SXSW, and it was obvious several people were drinking it.

First, I go pick up my badge. I did not go and stand in line the night before, and since I’m not really a morning person, I picked up my badge late morning on Friday. No lines, little waiting. That is how I do things.

Anyway, I walk in to get my badge and I hear:

“HEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYY”

I stop. I look around. WTF?

“MAAAAAAARUUUUUSSSKAAAAAAA!”

Coming at me is a girl I’ve not seen in about a year, and the last time I saw her she was ignoring me as if I had cooties. She and I used to be friends before Meg (see post New Years Eve 2009 for more info) decided to hate me and turned all our mutual friends into her minions.

So to say I was shocked was an understatement. But here was Sofie nearly running at me, arms open, ready to give me a hug.

Boggle

Headspin

I just stood there. She hugged me. I mumbled something like “Hi” as she chatted about how great it was to see me, and how cool it was that I had a badge, and how she needed to get back to her volunteer booth.

She ran off and I headed to pick up my badge, shaking my head as if I just stepped into the Twilight Zone. Wtf?

So I go on, and figure this is a one time thing, or that maybe Sofie had warmed up to me. A couple weeks ago, I saw she’d become friends with this girl I know through other channels on Facebook, and maybe that friendship had changed her mind about me.. or maybe she wasn’t friends with Meg?

I didn’t know. I didn’t really care. It was just surreal.

So the next day, I’m out SXSW party hopping and run into another friend of mine. We chat, but I have to run to the toilet, when I come back she’s standing there talking with Meg.  My friend sees me and waves me over. Meg sees me, but doesn’t do her normal “running off” and doesn’t even give me that “rot in hell” look.

I walk up to them fully waiting for Meg to pull one of her “die bitch die” moves, but she doesn’t.  She actually says “Hi” to me and its not forced.

WTF is in the water?

My friend walks away leaving us together. I fully expect to be ignored, so I don’t say anything and start to look around for an excuse to leave.

Meg says, “So how have you been?”

I’m relatively sure I looked at her like she’d grown three heads. But I answered,

“I’ve been good, and yourself?”

She replied that she was fine or something then politely said she had to get back to some friends in the corner.

I really don’t know what happened. I don’t really care. Its just weird.

Guys Like Psycho Chicks

I feel horrid. I’ve neglected this blog.

So where have I been?

First, I actually tried to take some time to do some real job searching. I know. I am amazed too.

Second, I got sick. Not normal sick, but scary sick to the point where I did not go anywhere or do anything, or even really talk to anyone.. Thus nothing to write.

I am starting to feel better.. that and I’m putting off going to bed because I now associate sleep with unpleasant sickness and pain. (I’m sure this psychosis is temporary)

*****

Anyway, I was talking today with my best friend.  She was telling me all about her ex-boyfriend who suddenly showed back up in her life acting as if they’d never been apart.

They’d split months ago. He left her with a whirl of psycho-ness burning all bridges. Aka he called her many unpleasant names and told her she was bad in bed among other things. He then left the country for work, and I guess is now back.

He IM’d her. She said “Hi” to be polite then quickly told him she didn’t have time to talk and walked away.  He then showed up at her apartment and asked her if she wanted to go for a ride on his motorcycle.  She said no.

“What you don’t like motorcycles anymore?”

She replied, “No, I just don’t like you.” and closed the door.

Chatting on the phone with me, she sounded off.

“What in the world could he possibly been thinking? What kinda crazy does he have to be to break up with me like that, leave the country without a word, and then come back and expect me to fall at his feet?”

It was the crazy that we began to discuss.

She’d told me enough of this man’s past to know that he liked to date crazy. No no.. not just normal crazy women, but “Wow psycho” women. It was obvious to us now that he helped drive them there.

I have a policy not to date men who like to date crazy women. Its that whole drama thing that I find they’re drawn to.. and if I’m not drama enough myself, I tend to find these men will drive me into it.. until I wake one day and I’m homicidal.  So yeah, I don’t date guys who have a history of dating crazy women, mostly because I don’t want to go to jail.

Anyway… I got off track…

We got to discussing this trend we’re finding that men seriously like crazy chicks. I don’t know what it is.. but they do.

I’m not sure if they’re just so used to crazy that they don’t know how to function in a relationship without it… or if its hardwired into their programming.

Just so you all know.. there are a few girls out there who can be rational most of the time. I know.. you don’t believe me. *sigh*

If this trend doesn’t fix itself though… My BFF and I are going to start “psycho chick” training classes.  I mean.. if you can’t beat ’em.. join ’em.. right?

Awesome Times Awesome Squared

My night last night..

I was running late to a birthday party that I didn’t want to go to. I just wanted a nice quiet night at home, but its an obligation that I’d never live down if I didn’t at least show.

I was trying to finish up some tasks when my friend Jack surprised me with his hidden talents at song writing… so I went to take a listen, hit play.

*ring* *ring* My phone is having one of those rare seizures indicative of someone trying to reach me by voice. A very rare thing.

I see the caller ID, smile, and panic.  I really didn’t remember giving this guy my number though I’ve had his through my own “stalking” efforts; its a happy surprise.

I answer quickly trying to make sure I answer before it goes to voicemail, while trying to turn off the blasting music from the computer. Trying to do too many things at once and being late.. and the surprise of the phone call.. I was a bundle of nerves.

I think I said “Hi”. I honestly can’t recall. Then he asks me for clarification on something private (something very few people here know.. a safety precaution) that I really really don’t recall telling him.  Not that I minded that he knew, but my mind instantly flew to… “OMG who else knows?” and “Shit, I thought I was more careful”. Some serious panic.

He assures me that I told him, and as I calm down I realize that I must have when I gave him my number. I vaguely.. with his memory jogging.. remember texting him from my phone on NYE. He never replied. (He claims a real phone call despite weeks later should make up for it.)  As I calm down, I start laughing. Seriously, I’m laughing hysterically..

He asks: “What’s so funny?”

Me: “To explain that would take more words than I have. I’m not laughing at you, but … at this.. situation”

He says: “Ah.. laughing with me..”

Sure sure.. lets just say I was laughing with you.  But since I was actually laughing at myself and my own hysterical insanity… well.. I’m thinking we were both laughing at me. Which is fine.. I was totally being laugh worthy.

I then blather on about why I have this deep seated loathing for football, which he listens to and somehow isn’t offended.

We talk, and I attempt to sound coherent. I think I succeeded. I got off the phone though feeling like a blathering idiot, a happy blathering idiot but a blathering idiot nonetheless.

I finish up my work, and head to the shower to get ready. My phone dings. Ooo a text message.

It’s Mac.

YAY!!!

Though he tells me he’s sick and miserable (poor guy), and in need of a nursemaid.

Normally, the me before I got married, would have immediately suggested that I come over to nurse him. I’d have ran to him and given up all other plans for the day in order to make him well.

I instead skirted the issue politely and flirtatiously, though later when I found out just how sick he was and that he was continuing to work as well.. I told him that someone needed to tie him to the bed and force feed him soup.

He of course was up for the “tying to the bed” part. Obviously not that sick. 🙂

We chatted a little more, before I told him I had to go shower and get ready.

I get ready.. slowly. I mean this night has gone so well so far.. it can’t possibly improve. It can only get worse. Right?

Plus its still cold in Austin. Its warm in my apt. You do the math.

But I drag myself out of the apt, and downtown.

A mutual friend of ours has arranged a fantastic “happy hour” special for us at a local bar/restaurant with a band to boot. No cover, and pretty much $1 drinks of whatever you want. My vodka was $2. Normally its $6 anywhere I go. YEAH!!

So I hang out and chat. Say hi to the Birthday girl and boy.. and do my rounds. I see Don’s there, but last time I saw him he had a girlfriend and was kinda a dud. I really didn’t feel like talking to him, and he was hanging with some cute girls I didn’t know.. so I just walked the other direction.

Don however ran over to say Hi to me. Put his arm around me and asked how I’d been.  We chatted for a while.. catching up on our lives.. the ex-gf was not mentioned.. but as chatty and friendly as he was.. it was obvious he was single again.

He soon flitted off again mingling he said. He spent most of the rest of the night with thinner hotter girls. Whatever Don. I’m no one’s backup plan.

The party however is outside without heaters of any kind. Seriously? What crack was the owner of that bar on?

So I called it a night after warming up inside and meeting a “native Austinite”. The guy was completely humorless and looked at me like I was uncouth and rude no matter what I said.  He however was slurring like a lush. In his defense, I should mention that I was totally making fun of his alcohol tongue. Come on.. it was funny. An obviously slurring 35+ yr. old well-dressed man trying to pick up a couple chicks.

Anyway, so I call it a night and decide to give in to my insane craving for Katz French Dip sandwich. Seriously they’re orgasmic.

I almost get the few blocks down the road to Katz, and my best friend calls to chat. We chat a bit and then I go eat with promises to call her back when I’m done.

No one to go with me, I enter on my own, sit alone at a table, and drool til my sandwich comes and then devour it. I thought it funny that none of that felt weird to me. It was my first time eating out.. eating out.. alone.

While I’m eating, Fred starts to text me. Fred has a habit of texting me when he’s drunk or been drinking. Usually the messages are funny in a “I want you” kind of way. He lives about 3 hours away, and has never came to Austin while I’ve been here. So I find it a little hard sometimes to take him seriously, but the messages are flattering.. and if he was closer he might make a good sex buddy. (He severely doesn’t want kids, so anything more than that is out of the question)

So.. flattered (he always says how sexy I am).. and laughing my ass off (he always says how sexy I am).. I call my best friend back and talk on my way home, and a good 2 hours after I get home.  We like to chat, and we crack each other up. The last hour of it was pretty much just solid laughter.

The last key phrase for a laughter track from us: “I don’t really judge, but man that shit is fucked up!” (yeah most people don’t get our humor either, its ok.)

It honestly was a fan-freaking-tastic evening. I couldn’t have planned it better. Awesome times Awesome squared.

Better Off In Bed

I am.. Right Now.. on my way to eating an entire Amy’s Organic Vegan Chocolate Cake.

I totally deserve it.

You can argue that with me all you want.. But first, let me tell you about my day.

A week ago, I decided to plan a happy hour event for tonight. I figured it’d be a good time to do something outgoing and fun.

I called around and set up the best deal at a great place with great food at great prices.  I was excited. There wasn’t a whole lot of people RSVP’d to come but enough of the people I cared about that the low numbers didn’t bother me in the least.

I had a laundry list of things that needed done today. Bills paid, checks cashed, groceries, errands to run.  Plus shower and look hot for tonight.

I woke up today at 1pm (3 hours later than I’d planned). Dead tired. Feeling like I was ran over by a truck.

I check the RSVP’s for the happy hour and check my email .. from bed. Then I head to the bathroom to shower and get ready and sure enough I get my period.

The first days of my period are cramps, cramps and OMG kill me now cramps.

Unfortunately it was way too late to cancel.  If I took pain meds, then I couldn’t drink. A non-drinking host at a happy hour.. yeah thats a good one!  (fortunately for me my cramps weren’t too bad today.. thank God)

So I’m feeling bloated like cow, and putting on my sexiest comfy dress, and head out the door just in time to make the happy hour.  I have to leave for it extra early because its raining in Austin which makes everyone drive like a grandma. (Aka I get nothing done all day) I get drenched on my way to my car.

I get to the establishment and they don’t have the tables reserved like they said they would, so I make them quickly throw a few empty tables together.

Happy Hour goes well. I’m hanging with friends, chatting, and having fun.  The only spoiler there… I’d talked to Theo (see Women Who Hate Women post) earlier that day and asked him to come so we could catch up.  Unfortunately when he came, there wasn’t a seat near me but shortly the girl next to me left allowing him to scoot one chair over and sit next to me. However, his gf (same girl as in the earlier post) insisted that she take the seat next to me. Theo and I never got to say more than Hi. Bitch.

Other than that everything went splendid. I really had a great time.

Then I come home. I walk in the door and smell something foul.  Really foul. Like rotten food or rancid cabbage.

I go to let the dog out of her kennel to find that she’s had a major accident in it.  Luckily she’s not covered in it, but she stinks. The kennel stinks. The bed she had in it stinks (the cover of it is now in the wash on sanitize cycle). She tried to get out and wore off the fur on the top of her nose, a nice baby pink spot of hairless on her nose.

So I had to clean that up, and the poor poop-stank dog wants hugs and snuggles and forgiven.. but she stinks, and I’m not entirely sure I’ve got the energy to bathe her.

This is not my day. I’m eating cake and going to bed.

I’m Not PC, I Like Mac

Yesterday, I woke up in a relatively good mood. Motivated. I even applied for a job, which of course was more annoying than the job itself.

**Rant** Why in the hell does every damn employer have their own website “quiz” you have to answer to apply? Why even have a resume? You end up having to type in every freaking thang from your resume into that quiz anyway. Including supervisors names and numbers.. Which I honestly couldn’t tell you for most of my past jobs because the companies have either gone under or the damn supervisor got laid off too. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to get hired by filling out “Random Idiot” as my supervisors name. **/Rant**

After taking a nearly an hour to apply for this job, I felt like I’d climbed a mountain.

I rewarded myself by making myself a great lunch and watching some TV.. which turned out to be “Grumpy Old Men”.

Love that movie.

By the time the movie was over, I was super chipper and starting to feel like my old self again.  I got ready to run a few errands that I’d been putting off the last couple days, and as I was getting dressed I wondered what was going on that night.

I checked my calendar and sure enough my favorite group (Beer Enthusiasts) had a meeting that night.

Saturday night at my friend’s birthday party, I ran into a couple people from my social circles here in Austin. They both scolded me for not being more social, and asked where in the world I’ve been hiding.  Neither of these two are people I ran into often, but more like people that I saw maybe once every 2 months, so for them to notice I’m missing is a pretty big deal. I hadn’t realized just how anti-social I’d gotten.

So when I saw that I could make the Beer meeting, I jumped at it. I figured it was probably time to come out of hiding, and since I was in a decent mood.. all the more reason.

I arrive. I run into Evie and her man outside smoking. I say Hi then run inside to see who all else is in attendance. I see a bunch of people I don’t know, and a few that I do.

Then suddenly from across the group seated at the table furthest from where I was, I see a good-looking man exclaim “Hi”.  I waved “Hello” back since there weren’t any seats near him, and started for the nearest available seat, when I noticed next to him was Getty who then shouted and waved.

Rather than shout over everyone, (and because the guy was hot) I made my way over to that side of the table to say hello and catch up.

I knew that I’d seen the good-looking man before, but couldn’t place him right away. Once I got closer though I realized that it was Mac (previously mentioned in “Just Some Time For Fun” and “Where Does The Time Go?“). It really had been a long time no see.

So when I got over to them, I positioned myself between the two of them and asked Getty how she’d been. I was dying to talk to Mac, but I knew I had to put in some time with Getty. Getty was on a non-stop roll of chatter, and kept trying to get me to pull up a chair to sit between them.

I really did not want to spend the entire night stuck next to Getty. She likes to monopolize conversation. I’d never get to chat with anyone else if I stayed here. At one point though, she said she was insisting I sit there because Mac was hot and she wanted to give me a better chance at him.  So why did she monopolize my conversation for the first 30 minutes? Dunno.

Mac however heard us talking about chairs and that I was going to go sit across the way where there were available chairs. I was arguing with Getty saying that I could just go sit over there. No biggie. Getty however kept asking everyone around if we could snag their chairs, to which they said no. Getty would not let it go.

So Mac got up, walked across the room, picked up one of the free chairs from the other side of the way, and carried it back over for me to sit on.  I of course told him it was completely unnecessary, but thanked him profusely for doing it. (It was totally sweet and hot.)

I’m not entirely sure he did it for me to sit next to him, as much as he may have done it so that I’d be a buffer between him and Getty. Either way, I got to sit next to him.

Luckily for me, there was a girl on the other side of Getty for her to talk to.. which gave me a second of break from Getty.. allowing me to turn away from her and talk to Mac.

Mac and I talked most of the night. Catching up on what we’d been doing since we’d last met. Bitching about the bowling group that we’d met at, and anything else that came across our minds.

I’d actually forgotten how easy it was to be around him. The time passed easily with very few lulls, and relaxed. Conversation just flowed, and we laughed and talked like we’d been friends for quite a while. I was so relaxed that I just let honesty flow from my mouth not caring about his view, and he seemed the same with me.

At one point, Getty caught both of our attention by saying that she’d heard a very cute joke that day.. she insisted that we’d love it.  So she started this joke about a dwarf which was off-color and inappropriate. Neither Mac nor I laughed.

I simply told Getty when she was asking, “Do you get it?” type looks and questions..

“It was pretty offensive. Sorry.” (Marc nodded his agreement out of site of Getty)

Getty tried to explain why she thought it was funny and how she’d not picked up on its offensiveness, though she supposed it would be offensive to actual people of dwarfism. I’m not sure exactly how the conversation went, but somehow this comment from me made sense..

“I don’t really know any real life dwarves. W’s the closest I’ve ever met, but I still found it offensive.”  (W is not a dwarf, she’s just freaking short. like 4’10? she might even be shorter than that.)

Getty gasped and said I was insulting W.

“I’m not insulting her. She’s the shortest person I know. She’s fully aware that she’s short. Its not news.” (The girl is the shortest person in our circle. Obviously shortest.)

Mac then pointed out a rather attractive blonde girl about 5 ft away at the end of the table.

“Doesn’t she look like Katherine Heigel?”

“Umm sure, maybe if you add 50 lbs to Katherine Heigel.”  Like I said I was relaxed around him. As the words came out of my mouth, I realized how catty it sounded. But there was no taking them back. I didn’t really mean them catty, but honestly this girl looked exactly like Katherine Heigel after eating an entire Thanksgiving dinner by herself.

A few minutes later after a pause in the conversation, Mac turned to me.

“You’re puzzling.”

“Uh.. what?” (me confused)

“A few minutes ago, you’re deeply offended at a joke about dwarves. But when I point out the blonde, you comment about her weight.”

“I know, but I was just being honest. She’s a beautiful girl. But in comparison to Katherine Heigel.. it was an honest comment. I didn’t mean it catty.”

Really, there wasn’t any defense of myself that I could do without backpedalling into spineless.  I said what I said. I meant it.

He smiled. “I know. You said it very matter of fact. Not catty at all. Still funny.”

“I just speak truth. Deal with it.  Btw, did you notice that her teeth, mouth, and motions are like Heigel’s too? It’s weird.”

We actually pondered taking pictures of the girl and selling them to tabloids as “Katherine Heigel gets fat” pictures. She looked that close.

He kept getting text messages the entire night. One after another after another. I honestly was wondering if he had some jealous girlfriend.  After about the 4th txt, my flirtatiously curious looks started to take on a little less flirt and a little more curious, he told me who was texting.  Supposedly he has a couple friends who are going through a marital rough patch, and they both keep texting him for advice/perspective. It was a very ornate story he told which no one in the world would make up because it was so boring and who cares, but it was sweet him being there for them and not taking sides.

As the evening was drawing to a close, he started to show me apps on his iPhone. I have one too, so we were comparing cool things.  A few that he had were really cool, and so I had to download them.

We were then interrupted by some chick. I don’t know who she was. She did not introduce herself to me, and instead only talked to Mac. They did not seem to know each other. She seemed to just be wanting to meet the “Hot Guy”.  Slightly jealous from my seat on the other side of him, I calmed when I noticed they did not know each other and Mac was not acting happy about the interruption. He was nice, friendly, but the conversation was short and then he was back talking to me.

Shortly after that, everyone had left, save a few of us. Mac, some guy, and myself. The guy was standing by himself looking a little uncomfortable, and so I called him over to us.  As much as I like Mac, I hate to ignore people and make them feel like an outsider.  The guy came over. His name was Mike and thats all I found out before Mac drew me back into finishing our conversation.

Mac and Mike’s tabs came through first. My tab came through as they were signing theirs, so they both took off.

Mac never asked for my number. I assume we’re just friends. Its just nice for the ego though to have the hottest dude in the group commandeer you for conversation.

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