Tomorrow Is Another Day...

My Big Fat Greek Friday

I know, very original title, isn't it?  Because I met a Greek guy, and it was on a Friday, and I'm just very witty as you can tell, particularly with my referential humor.  A regular Lorelai Gilmore.

Anyway, I was worried on Friday that my mood would crater by the end of the day, but I was lucky enough to continue with the fabulous happy streak all night and even into Saturday!  I met up with a friend and his wife who have just recently moved to Little Rock for his pilot training and went for sushi with some of his pilot training class.  I actually ended up having sushi for 3 meals in a row which is pretty funny if you knew me three years ago when I was making fun of people who ate raw fish.  After sushi we headed out to the Flying Saucer where some of my friends came and met up with us for drinks.  Enter sweet, charming, polite, complimentary and very interested Greek guy.  I had one of the best bar conversations I've ever had and it was really great to have a guy who I knew without a question was completely and totally into me.  Two bad things though: A) He lives in New York and B) Is only in town for a week so in all reality I'll probably never see him again.  He did give me his phone number and email address and told me that he'd keep in touch, so... we'll see... I guess...  At this point I honestly don't even know what I want to come from it.

I also ended up running into the guy that I dated for a few weeks a couple of months ago that I tried so hard to really like, and I was afraid it would be awkward since I'd never heard from him again after turning him down for a movie date.  However, I decided to approach him anyway since he was hanging out with some of my other friends and after a hug and a how are you doing went along my way.  I ended up very mature about the whole situation, the maturity of which is probably negated by the fact that I'm bragging about how mature I felt ;)  And then 15 minutes before closing I met another guy who was talking to another group of friends and we really hit it off, but got separated in the bar closing rush.  I told my friend about him and she said that she's seen him around before, so with any luck we'll cross paths again and match our stellar wits again--I love a guy who can deal with my calling him an asshole and come back with both guns firing!!

So, needless to say I didn't get any of that packing done this weekend--or the laundry that was to precede the packing.  I did however hit up the sales rack at Old Navy yesterday and found some killer deals on skirts and tank tops, so I'll be ready for the 100 degree weather!  Later today I plan dealing with a jerk boy that has really pushed the limits of my last nerve and then maybe after that I can at least get a packing list made.  I can't believe that in less than 48 hours I'll be on my way to NYC--Ack!!

Maybe I Needed That?

Well, I certainly wish that I had some kind of fascinating stories for you about my wild and crazy antics this weekend.  Unfortunately, however, there were absolutely no antics as this was one of the most boring weekends I've had in the past few months. 

Friday we decided to lay low to recover from Thursday and made plans to go out dancing on Saturday.  Saturday rolls around and I heard from another friend who was heading to Hot Springs for a free SheDaisy concert.  I turned her down though since I'd already made plans with the other friend, however come 7:30 when I still hadn't heard back from that friend I realized that I was getting ditched for a guy and by then the train had already left the station for Hot Springs.  So, I watched The Princess Diaries.  For the billionth time.  I've got to say though, I really do love that movie--how cute are Julie Andrews and Hector Elizondo at the end?

I also decided that it's time to start getting back into my running.  I've slacked off pretty seriously since going home for the wedding and it's amazing how hard it is to get started again after a few weeks away.  The thing is though, I may have gone and signed myself up for a women's marathon relay.  Which would require running 6.5 miles.  Which is hilarious since I've never run more than 3 miles at one time in my entire life.  It's just a maybe right now though, I told a girl that I'd do it as long as I can run slow, but I haven't heard if we're all actually signed up or not.  I crack myself up.

So, Sunday rolled around and I spent the day recovering from my recovery... which is to say watching all of my Tivo'd episodes of Gilmore Girls from this past week and talking to the boy with minimal dramatics.  We were going to hang out last night, but he had to take a raincheck.  So hopefully that will actually happen at some point this week.  If not... well... I'll just find some other way to entertain myself!

For now though, I need to go practice a speech about Force Shaping modifications that I'm giving later today at a commander's call.  Sounds thrilling, right?  Yeah, I have no idea what I'm going to say.  Here's hoping I don't throw up or pass out from nerves in front of a bunch of pilots.  Because I don't think I'd ever live that one down.

Just Another Thursday Night

I have seriously got to start chilling out on the Thursday night adventures.  They always seem to follow a set schedule:

Step 1) Think to self:  I'm not going to drink much tonight--I have a big day tomorrow and I hate being wiped out on Friday.

Step 2) Go out, drink rather a lot.

Step 3) Make ill advised decisions involving members of the opposite sex.

Step 4) Drama ensues.

Step 5) Cry just a little.

Step 6) Go to sleep.

I'm really not a dramatic person (okay, maybe I am a little, but not usually with people outside of my immediate family), but this guy just inspires the Crazy in me and I kind of hate that.  Plus, apparently I am manipulative, which I completely disagree with and definitely hate that he thinks that--if he really thinks that--but whatever.  Still, it seemed all good this morning--and isn't this what your early 20s are supposed to be all about anyway?  Miscommunication, dramatics, and alcohol?

Anyway, I didn't even have time to take a shower, just wake up later than planned, get a ride home, Superman drill it into my uniform and fling myself back into my car to fly into work.  And of course get stuck behind a cop the whole way there which forced me to go the speed limit.  And the cop's number on the back of his car was 420.  Does anyone else see the humor in that??

So, I'm disgusting, I smell like a bar, I still have on last night's makeup, my hair is plastered to my head unattractively, I had one of the most confusing nights of my life and yet I still feel more awake and alive than I have any other day this week.  As screwed up as life is right now, I have to admit, I'm kind of enjoying the ride.

Oh What A Night!

Right now, I would literally kill someone for some ibuprofen and a Popeye's biscuit.  Kill them dead, I would.  D-E-D, dead.

The night all started when we went out to Cornerstone in what is becoming a weekly Thursday night occurrence.  (That other paragraph was a pretty good hook though, wasn't it!  I'm so obviously an author type person.)  I walked in and found my friends already started and their drinks and was immediately greeted by the bartender who was proferring a complimentary cranberry and vodka--my drink.  Can you see why I luuuuurve this place?  I think the only way it could be more perfect would be if they had a karaoke machine.  And cabana boys in loin cloths with offerings of plump, juicy grapes would be kind of fantastic too.  But the karaoke machine would do for the time being.

Well, as we sat there, grooving to the 80s jams rocking out from the DJ booth, one of the guys leans over and whispers into my ear, "Hey, do you know who that is?"

I look over to the bar and see a petite blonde with massively baggy jeans and a little white tank top talking to the bartender.  I had zero idea--she looked a little like a poor man's Renee Zellweger, but it definitely wasn't her.  Turns out it was Joey Lauren Adams of Big Daddy and Kevin Smith movie fame.  I spent the entire rest of the night trying to decide if it would be totally stalkerish to take a picture or if it was pretty much expected that when you see a famous person you photo stalk them.  I decided against it in the end since there really weren't enough people there to put the blame on someone else if she got all batshit crazy about it.  She did, however, pull my friend up on stage to dance with her and then tried to set him up with her kind of trashy mid-30s friend.  That was pretty funny.  And it's also kind of funny how famous people never really look like themselves.  Which is a silly thing to say, because they ARE themselves, so how can they not look like themselves?  But it was like looking at someone who just looked an awful lot like that girl Layla from Big Daddy.

All in all, it was a good night, and got me out of the house which is always a good thing!  Today is my first full day wearing my brand new fancy schmancy Invisalign braces, and I feel like that scene in My Fair Lady where Henry Higgins keeps putting marbles in Eliza's mouth while she's reciting poetry.  I'm incredibly self conscious about answering the phone, smiling, not smiling, you know, pretty much everything that involves my face/mouth.  But happily the whole process looks like it will only take about 8 months, and I'm fairly certain that I'll get used to the marble mouth pretty soon here.

So, on that note, have a happy weekend, and remember, only you can prevent forest fires.

Update:  I ate a Popeye's biscuit.  It was just as delicious as I hoped.  Also, I'm really, really tired.

And My Head Commences Exploding

The internet was down at work all day and I've been suffering from withdrawal because all of the things that wanted to rush out yesterday have finally slowed down enough for me to wrap my mind around it and all I wanted was to write write write.  Instead I was forced to work.  That always stinks.  Anyway, onto the actual meat of the entry.

Growing up in Baton Rouge, I spent my entire childhood through young adult years wanting desperately to get out, move AWAY!  I wasn't ever really sure where away was, but it was always somewhere way better than where I was living.  Where I didn't have curfews and could eat as much chocolate as I wanted and maybe had actual seasons.  This imaginary place sounded fantastic, and I just COULDN'T WAIT to get OUT and be a grown up person.

So, now I'm a grown up person.  And I live in Little Rock.  And it's so not the way I'd imagined it would be.  The thing is, after this last visit home, I realize just how much I miss Baton Rouge.  I guess you just can't live somewhere for 16 years and not form an intense attachment to it.  I miss the familiarity of knowing where all the stores are and where the cheaper gas is.  I miss being able to drive around LSU and see the kids walking to class, going to visit Mike the Tiger in his cage, going to football games and screaming myself hoarse--even if we're losing.  I miss having family and old friends around that know me through and through and I don't have to make an effort to have fun with--I can just "be" with.  And now being back here is that much harder because I know just how much I DON'T want to be here.  Going to work is so much harder because I know I could have a job that I really wanted if I could just be back home.  I can see a light at the end of the tunnel, but it's so hard to see the path that will get me there, right now everything just seems dark and black and the light seems very, very far away.

And then on top of that I keep getting myself involved in these horrible guy situations that just end up crushing me into oblivion.  I try so hard to not get attached because I know how easily I get hurt, but every time I meet a new guy I think, "this one will be different!" and I throw caution to the wind.  And then I end up crying for a week and kicking myself for being so stupid yet again.  Honestly, I can't go into a lot of details about this last guy, but we spent about 4 days total hanging out and, I thought, totally clicking.  He talked a lot about how much he wanted a relationship, we talked about kids and all the places that we'd like to live someday, he helped me with my car, he tried to impress me at restaurants... and still I managed to keep my distance, treat it like a fun "summer romance" because I knew he was leaving soon.  But then the last day that we were together, he dropped the "I'll call you" bomb, and said it oh so sincerely.  In fact, he even said "I'll call you in a few days... unless you don't want to keep in touch with me..." kind of hesitantly like I was going to shoot him down.  And then he said it again... "I'll call you in a few days."  And I really thought he would.  And once again I was wrong.  And once again I've spent the past three days trying to figure out how I could have seen this coming... how I could have let my guard down once again... why I keep trusting people when time and time again they prove to me that they can't be trusted.

A lady at work gave me her son's phone number and said that she'd really like me to call him and meet.  Because "there are so few nice girls out there."  So, I ask you.  If there are so few nice girls out there, and I seem to be one of them, then why oh why is it that none of these guys can see that?  Why am I so easy to let go of?  So now I'm so scared to even contact this guy--not because I think we wouldn't hit it off, but because I'm afraid we would.  I'm afraid of getting attached again.  Getting hurt again.  Letting a person in again.  And then being left alone at the end... wondering.

All I really want is to go home.

Oooookay.

I can't think of another reason to put this off again, so I guess I'll just go ahead and finally talk about my most recent boy issues.  And when I say "issues" I mean not only the current situations I've had lately with the not so fair sex, but also my own bizarre baggage left over from previous relationships.

You know how there are those internet surveys that you get in emails, or get tagged with as meme's, or show up as bulletins or blogs on MySpace?  And how there's always the question--"What is your biggest fear?"  I've always made up kind of silly exagerrated answers to this--dying alone and my dogs eating my face off, falling into a pit of cockroaches without a can of Raid--that kind of thing.  But I've been doing a lot (A LOT) of thinking lately, and I think I can safely say what my two biggest fears are--I can't narrow this down to just one. 

My first is the fear of regret.  So far in my life there are very few things that I look back on and truly regret relationship-wise, or really in regard to anything.  I mean, I look back on things and realize I could have handled them differently, probably even better, but I don't feel as though I've made any huge life changing mistakes that I would give anything to go back and redo.  However, I also think this fear is the reason that I've stayed in relationships when they're far past their expiration dates.  I don't ever want to give up on a person for fear that in 10 years I'll look back and say, what if I'd given them that one more chance?  Which is why I'll probably always be the dumpee rather than the dumper, because I'm not willing to give up on people I've loved.

My second huge fear is the fear of never being enough.  I've been in two serious relationships, both of which ended when my exes chose another girl over me.  It's a hard pill to swallow that no matter how hard you try, sometimes you just aren't enough--that a person can and probably will still stray.  It's a fear that I'm facing head-on with SJB right now, before things have even started with us.  He's been seeing another girl casually for months now, and going into this with him I'm accepting the possibility that once again I'll not measure up, I'll not be good enough, I'll have to watch as he picks her over me. 

I finished The Dogs of Babel this weekend, and there was a quote that touched me deep down inside.  I had to sit and read it over and over again to fully absorb and then sit and stare into space just thinking about it.  I wrote it down on a scrap of paper and keep it with me to remind me that I'm not the only person that feels this way.  "Hope and fear are two sides of the same coin."  This is so incredibly true and profound to me, and it's the thought that I've been trying to wrap my head around for the past two and a half months of turmoil with SJB.  I feel such a strong hope because there's so much wrapped up in it--my attraction to him since the first time we met 6 years ago that I never thought could be reciprocated, our friendship that has always been there but has blossomed since we've gotten back in touch, the promise of something potentially great waiting just around the corner if I only just give it that chance.  The fear that if I just walk away to spare myself the possibility of hurt I'll regret it for the rest of my life, the fear that he's just feeding me lines and I'm falling for them one by one, the fear that we won't be able to find that friendship again if things don't work out.  There are so many hopes and so many fears, and there are so many highs and so many lows.

I've had to choose which fear I'm willing to face with him.  Do I just throw my hands up in defeat and say there are plenty of other fish in the sea and then wonder the rest of my life if I made the wrong choice?  Or do I face my fear of not being enough and hope that he can see me and appreciate me for who I am and what I have to offer, and finally be able to let go of that fear of not measuring up?  Last night I chose the latter.  I chose honesty and openness and I chose to give him that one "last chance".  I'll find out today if he can follow through, and if he can't I'll have to walk away and hope that I never look back on this and regret my decisions.

Hope and fear may be two sides of the same coin, but today I choose hope.

The Posterchild for Eternal Hope... Or Maybe Just an Idiot

Well, I think that I successfully bitched the local guy out of the picture...  When I say "bitched" I don't mean that I yelled at him a lot and gave him what for, no, I just acted like a passive aggressive bitch and when he went to kiss me at the end of the night I kind of turned my head just enough that we did this weird nose hitting thing.  I declare, I am just such a smooth one.  I know that this isn't the best way to handle things, but it's the way I always have gotten rid of guys that I'm not interested anymore.  And sure it's cowardly and manipulative, but isn't it better than a sickly sweet conversation about how "it's not you it's me, and you're really a great guy but I just don't think you're right for me..." ugh, I hate that with a passion.  Anyway, I say that he took the hint because after sending him a message thanking him for dinner he responded along the lines of, "Yeah, the food was good"--ouch!

So, exit stage left local boy, reenter stage right Stupid Jerk Boy (henceforth known as SJB).  Which is where the eternal hope comes in.  I'm kind of stupid when it comes to boys, and it's becoming a bit of a pattern.  I blame that eternal hope for being the reason I spent over three years of my life with a guy that never had any intentions of proposing, but literally every holiday that rolled around, I was sure that this time would be the time he'd pop that question.  Of course, he never did, and looking back now, with hindsight being 20/20, all of the signs were there pretty much from day one.  But I figured if I just stuck around long enough and was patient enough and loved him enough, he'd come around eventually.  See?  Eternal hope?  Idiot?  Same difference?

Which leads us up to the reentrance of SJB.  Remember how I said I yelled at him and was pretty sure I'd slammed that door and locked it behind me?  Well, he popped his little head back in the door last night, and I can't figure out if I want to slam it in his face again or not.  I'm not really looking for advice (PLEASE GOD NO ADVICE!!), because I know I'll figure this out on my own, for good or for bad.  It's hard because there's obviously some kind of attraction there and I can't help but hope that something could come of this, I just don't want to waste another chunk of my life on someone who's just looking to see what he can get out of me without giving anything of himself.  I'm still playing it cool with him, but I suppose a dialog has been established, and we'll see just how willing he is to try to make this work.  Because for now?  I'm done with the chasing and the trying--it's his turn.

"And I Feel Like I'm Naked In Front of A Crowd, 'Cause These Words Are My Diary Screaming Out Loud"

(Subtitle: Dude, You All Are Kind of Whorish About The Whole Hot Neighbor Question Thing--He's Totally Overweight and MARRIED.  Also Old.)

I've been extremely conflicted lately about how much I can let myself write here.  It's one thing to write about me, because I'm me, and whatever, obviously I approve the things that I decide to put out here in this public forum and I'm not going to stumble upon this site randomly on my couch while eating chocolate covered pretzels and watching reruns of Family Guy and become horrified by what I wrote when I recognize myself in certain entries.  There are certain people in my life who don't know about this site, and who might not be so thrilled to know that I'm talking about them to a whole bunch of strangers, and honestly in a lot of cases, there's a reason that they don't know the things that I would write in here about them.  The reason being I DON'T WANT THEM TO KNOW.  So, I guess what I'm saying is that this entry is pretty personal to me, and it's possible that at a later date I'll delete this whole dang post and replace it with a picture of a piguin... or I don't know, I might grow a pair and leave it up (and also keep a very close eye on my site meter to check on who's reading).

Okay, enough with the stalling and disclaimers.

So, last night was the date, and, I don't know, I'm just very "meh" about the whole situation.  He's a really good looking guy, he's extremely sweet and polite, he's got an adorable southern accent and he comes from a good family.  (Oh my God, did I just say he comes from a good family??  How antebellum AM I??)  On top of that, he's seen Gone with the Wind, and he likes it--I mean, I should be totally in love, right?  So, then why is it that when he was chewing on a straw last night it was literally all I could do to keep from jumping out of my chair in the middle of the movie and screaming at him to STOP IT for the love of GOD!!!  And before we'd even gotten home he'd already asked me out for tonight, and I had to give him a maybe because of another situation which I'll get into in a minute.  He walked me to the door after the movie and I got the little awkward peck and hug, and really didn't feel a whole lot of fireworks... or even handheld sparklers... or the static shock you feel from rubbing your feet on the carpet and then touching a doorknob.  But I'm really trying to give this a chance and see where it goes.

As for the other guy... the one who's been in the picture for a couple of months now in a purely conversational way... y'all I don't know what his deal is.  Or for that matter, what my deal is?  Why is it that he can put so little effort into this and I want him so much more than the nice, sweet, local guy who treats me well and seems so honored to be in my presence?  I mean, is it some kind of psychological thing where I only want an unavailable guy because then I don't have to deal with the horrors of actually being in another relationship that could go down in flames?  I don't know, maybe I'm analyzing it too much.  Maybe I'm just one of those stupid girls who likes assholes. 

Anyway, this weekend was the third weekend that we've had plans to meet up, and this weekend was the third weekend that it fell through, and I completely lost it with him last night.  I told him I was checking out of this because I'm tired of his disappearing acts and the fact that something else more important than me always comes up at the last minute.  That I've kept this very light and un-serious (is that even a word?) but I can only put forth so much effort without getting any return on my investment.  It's supposed to be fun at this point, but instead I feel like I'm on some kind of royally screwed up rollercoaster where I'm so high one day and so very, very low the next day, and I just keep expecting to go careening off the track at any point.  He came on so strong at first, and for the past month and a half I feel like he's just been tossing crumbs to keep stringing me along.  Honestly, I just can't accept crumbs anymore.  Look, the guy lives 3 hours away and we've been talking for 2 1/2 months and known each other for 6 years--there's really no reason it should be that hard for us to meet up at some point.  I know I deserve more than he's been giving me, and I'm tired of wondering what's wrong with ME, when obviously the issues are all his.  (Okay, well, not ALL the issues, but definitely lots of them.)  Anyway, not too surprisingly, I didn't get a response back from him, so I don't really know where we stand, but I think it's safe to say that whatever weird dynamic we had is pretty much over now.  And, uh, Shani, I suppose you can change my RSVP for the wedding to one now... hee!  Love me!

So, that's the update.  I guess I'll hang out with local guy at some point this weekend and focus on trying to figure out my feelings toward him rather than being hung up on stupid jerk boy.  HA!!  That's my revenge, I call him Stupid Jerk Boy on the internet.  Watch out world, I'm tough as nails!  So tough that if I ever catch wind that he or anyone else that knows him is reading this site I will fall off the Internet SO FAST your computer monitor will spin.

If I'm Not Careful You're Totally Going to Want to Steal My Life

Because it is JUST THAT AWESOME!!

I'm not sure if that's sarcasm or not... lately it's been kind of either really awesome or totally craptastic.  Not a whole awful lot of middle ground.  But yesterday I did get everything done that I was supposed to, except for the washing of the bathroom.  I have an excuse though.  The time allocated to cleansing of tile surfaces was instead taken over by what we'll call "Jack and Ellie's Big Adventure!"

Sigh.

So, apparently Jack is really crazy smart about things that he WANTS to be smart about, and the fact that he just glances at me lazily with eyes glazed over when I say silly things like "Sit", "Come", and "Stay", doesn't actually reflect much on his intelligence.  Dude knows how to open the door.  I shit you not.  And yesterday he decided to try out this new little trick and took his little sister on the aforementioned Big Adventure.  The best part?  He'd pulled off Ellie's collar before they went racing off into the wild blue yonder, so when I went tearing after them with their leashes, it did me No Good.

You know what's even cuter?  How they can just sense with their evil little puppy brains that I really want them to just come the frick back inside and so when I crouch down by the door with cookies and make sweet, cooing come hither noises they actually LAUGH at me and then run away.  Like, fuck your cookies you stupid human, there's poop out here to eat!!

So, I ran after them out to the woods behind my apartment--praying that the stupid teenagers with their stupid fast cars wouldn't come flying around the corner at just that moment--and sweet little Ellie, who shall henceforth be known as The Good One That I Love Most, came running over to me as she determined that cookies actually are tastier than poop.  Jack, on the other hand, had business to take care of, and coming anywhere near me was not included in his schedule of events.  He refused to even look in my direction--kind of an "If I can't see you, then you're not really there" approach I suppose.  So, I'm crouching precariously on a rocky hill, clutching one squirmy, leashless/collarless dog to my chest and still trying to appear loving and suggesting to Jack that he come to me, when I hear the voice of my across-the-hall-neighbor ringing out from his balcony, "You want some help with that?"  FOR THE LOVE OF POPPY SEED CRACKERS, YES!!!

Neighbor made his way across to the wooded area, doing a nifty little whistling thing that I definitely need to learn and that Jack thought was totally cool, and the little black spawn of Satan came hurtling through the trees, not giving a flip about me or my cookies, but absolutely enamored of that Big Whistling Man.  I hate that dog.  We made it back into my apartment, me trying not to dissolve into a quivering puddle of Jello while thanking neighbor effusively.  Once I got safely inside I thought momentarily about killing the little furballs, but instead started crying and squeezed them to me in utter relief that they weren't doggie flapjacks out on the road.  Of course, they'd already forgotten about the whole thing and were all "get off me you nutjob and give me my dinner!"  And so I did.

Then, to top it all off, I took Ellie out later that night to do her biznass, and her FREAKING COLLAR BROKE!!  Luckily she had to poop, and is less than speedy while pooping, so I was able to catch her without much racing around the apartment complex, but still, it's the whole principal of the thing.  One should really not have to deal with the near loss of their little caramel colored baby twice in the span of a few hours.  It's really far too much strain on my already put-upon heart.

In other news however, I have a second date Thursday night with the guy that I was hoping would stay in the picture.  And going along with the theme of maintaining some semblance of a personal life, that's all I'm saying.  And yet, YAY!

So, Apparently I Kind of Have a Life Now... Huh...

My typical weekend looks something like this:

Friday night:  Watch Ghost Whisperer, fall asleep sometime around nine and eventually move back to the bed where I snore peacefully all night long.

Saturday:  Lay out/go for a run/take dogs out to play/watch Netflix movies/catch up on TiVo recordings/order extremely fatty take out and pig out on the couch.  Fall asleep some time between 10:30 and 12:00 depending on how good SNL is that night.

Sunday: Repeat Saturday, possibly now with more naps.

And I'm good with that--really, I LOVE to be lazy.  My weeks are long, I hate work, so to revel in absolute nothingness is kind of heaven to me.  But I've realized that it's time to start making a little more of an effort to actually "get back out there" instead of just talking about it all of the time.  So this weekend I decided to get together with some friends and head out on the town.

Friday night we hit the Rivertop Party at the Peabody Hotel and I met a great group of new people.  There was flirting, drinking, unwise decisions under the influence of alcohol--it was fabulous!  After the Peabody we headed to a bar downtown, but everything was bizarrely dead.  I'm not sure what was going on--or I guess more appropriately, not going on--but there were maybe a total of 50 people at the bar so we headed out early, a little after one.  I stayed at a friend's house since none of us were in any condition to drive, so the next morning, due to the logistics of the night before, we had to spend about 2 hours trying to track down my keys so I could go home.  Suffice it to say, after trying to break down a door at the Best Western we finally had to sweet talk a maid into letting us in so that we could awaken the guy who had my keys in his car.  Seriously, the Apocalypse easily could have come that morning, and he would have slept through it, no problem.

I finally made it back home early Saturday afternoon and was greeted by reproachful stares from the dogs who threatened to turn me in to Child Protective Services.  However, I won them over with cookies, and as never fails, reminded them that if not for me they'd probably be dead, so shut it and give me kisses.  I spent the rest of that day sprawled on the couch alternately sleeping and--you guessed it!--eating junk food.  And despite the fact that SNL was indeed pretty decent, I was asleep by around 11.

But THEN!  Then Sunday came.  The Sunday on which I had somehow managed to rack up two separate dates.  Which is kind of crazy, because they're the only two dates I've been on since Colby and I broke up, but hey, whatever, I'll take what I can get!  I had to be up at 9:00 in the morning to be out to the airport to meet up with the first guy who was taking me flying.  And of course.  I got lost.  Twenty minutes after I was supposed to be there and after about 5 miserable and apologetic phone calls the poor guy just told me to pull in to a gas station and he'd come find me.  Off to a great start there, Ang!  It was pretty fun though once I finally got where I was supposed to be, and I didn't even throw up--yay! 

Later that night I had a dinner date with one of the guys I had met on Friday, and I think we really hit it off well.  I'm refusing to jinx it by getting excited about it, so that's all I'm saying.  And I'm proud to say that I managed to avoid talking about the ex most of the night!  That's always been my nightmare... being that psycho girl who just won't shut the frick up about her ex.  We kind of did the, "oh, so do you know so and so?" thing that has to be done with every military person you meet, and it turns out that he did know who Colby was when they were in pilot training, but that's really the only time he came up all night.  Go me!  Anyway, I'm kind of thinking there might be a repeat performance of that one at some point.

So, I get home last night and I caught up on Desperate Housewives and Grey's Anatomy (which OH MY GOD, DID YOU SEE THAT??????  NOOOOOOOO!!!) and I got to talking to the guy I knew at school that I've been talking to for a couple of months now about possibly meeting up with in Little Rock.  I'd pretty much given up on that happening since he seemed pretty good at talking the talk, but definitely wasn't walking the walk.  Well, he tells me that he was talking to his friend who lives up here and he's thinking he'll probably be coming up this weekend.  So.  Yeah.  I guess we'll see.  Again with the not getting excited about it because I don't want to just end up disappointed again.

All in all though, it was a pretty great weekend, but I am honestly utterly exhausted today since I missed out on my 60 hours of sleep over the last 3 days.  I think it was for a pretty good reason though, and now my biggest concern is that the President keep his remarks tonight to a minimum because if that cuts into Grey's Anatomy I will seriously vote Democrat next time.

Stuck In A Moment And Can't Get Out Of It

Okay, a few observations first before we get on with the real meat of this entry.  (Ha!  I know, I'm laughing too!  Like this is hard hitting journalism or something!)

A)  Berries and Cream Dr. Pepper:  Good idea or no?  I can't decide, but I do know that I'm very afraid to try it.  And more importantly, are they going to stop making the Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper?  Because that stuff is like a drug to me.  All those track marks on my arms?  Not heroin--no, Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper!  I don't want to waste time lifting the can, pouring the delicious liquid into my mouth, savoring the flavor, and then swallowing.  NO!  I just want it in my body NOW!

2)  I love the scale at my gynecologist's office.  You step on it, they observe the number... and then they SUBTRACT 8 POUNDS!!  I don't know why!  I'm pretty sure I'm not wearing 8 pounds of clothes!  Maybe it's actually 8 pounds off and they just haven't figured out how to adjust it.  I don't know, but it's freaking awesome!  I think I'm going to institute that policy every time I step on the scale.  You should do the same.

III)  Tom Cruise is still crazy.  Please don't let his glazed, calm expression and creepy, even tone during the Diane Sawyer interview sway your opinion.  Go with your gut!  The man is nuts.  Kate has been pregnant for, like, 15 years.  This is not a normal relationship!  Although, apparently she likes cupcakes and you kind of have to love a girl that likes cupcakes.  Katie, sweetie, I have a couch if you feel like bolting anytime.  Granted, the dogs will probably try to chew your fingers off in the middle of the night, but really, when you compare that to the life you're living right now, it doesn't really sound so bad, does it?

Right, so, I think that takes care of all the observational type stuff, now onto ME!  It's kind of funny, I feel a little bit like I'm back in high school what with all of the angst and boy confusion.  Okay, that's actually more sad than funny, but you get my point.  I never was terribly angsty in high school.  I liked boys very much as a sort of abstract concept, but didn't really bother with them much.  I had one four month relationship that ended rather disastrously and 2 other little flings that didn't amount to much more than a viewing of Deuce Bigalow Male Gigolo while making out in a rec room and receving some kind of cute Easter crap from another guy before we went driving around Baton Rouge in a friend's car.  Because that's what you do for fun when you're in high school and you live in the south.  Well, that or go hang out in the parking lot of the movie theater.

Then college came along and I spent all but a grand total of a year or so in serious relationships, so I'm truly a fish out of water with this whole "dating" thing.  Which is kind of crazy since I'm not actually even "dating" anyone... just talking a lot about "dating" without a whole lot of progress in any direction.  So, I guess that's that update--I'm utterly confused about how to date boys, what exactly constitutes dating, and how it is that you're supposed to meet people who live less than 3 hours away and aren't married.  Oh, and aren't alcoholic bar hoppers--because as much as I may come off as one myself, I'm actually a very boring person who is happiest at home on a Saturday night with her Netflix movies and SNL.  I'm perfectly capable of being an alcoholic from my couch, thank you very much!!

Oddly enough, the most progress has been made in the Colby department.  I'm not sure if he reads this site anymore, so hopefully he won't mind that I still talk about him a little here.  I'll try not to invade his space too much and only talk about my feelings.  I heard from him a couple of weeks ago before he had another deployment and I think we both had a chance to say things that needed to be said.  I've gotten past the hurt, the feelings of betrayal, the anger, and mostly I just miss his friendship at this point.  He got back home over the weekend and we spent about an hour talking online, just about the day to day things in life, and it felt good.  He still seemed distant, but I'm hoping that eventually he'll come around and realize that I'm not trying to manipulate him back into a relationship with me.  It feels very mature and adult-like to finally have an ex that I don't harbor any ill will toward.  I still talk to a couple of the guys that I dated in high school, but it took years of distance before we could come back into each other's lives even in this limited capacity, and it's only been in the past year that we've been talking at all.  The other college ex--aka "Asshole"--is the one who made an attempt to establish friendship a few months ago, but I don't know if I'll ever be ready for that with him.  So, it feels so freeing to not have that dark, angry feeling every time I think of Colby.  I truly do hope that he finds happiness someday and finally meets a woman who can convince him to let down those walls he has up and commit to her forever.

So!  That's all the sap that I have in me today!  I think I'm going to go stare at the Berries and Cream Dr. Pepper at lunch time and think about buying a bottle.  If I do, I'll be sure to provide a review--but I'm not optimistic.  Not optimistic at all...

Putting It All In Perspective

You may have noticed that there was a rather large gap between my last post and the one before that.  It's certainly not for lack of things to talk about, but you see, I made this rather psychotic decision when starting this site that I was not going to be anonymous.  That I was going to say my piece and to hell with what anyone thought.  I also really like getting attention and thought that maybe plastering my name all over a little piece of the internet would help me out in that regard.

I don't really regret the decision to not be anonymous because I really feel as though you guys are getting to know *me*, not just some persona that's out there on the web.  With that being said, I think maybe I'm more of a "persona" than I would be if I were anonymous because then I really could say everything that made up my life.  As it stands now, I always think when I'm writing what if so-and-so found this website, would I really want them to read what I'm saying about them?  Or about me?  And so whether I like it or not, I do censor, to a degree.

There has been a lot going on in my life lately.  A lot of things that have made me question where I am, what I'm doing, who I am, what I feel.  These things revolve around everything--my job, my family, my friends, the various male-types in my life in whatever capacity.  There are a lot of things that I could write about, but I feel like I need to keep some part of myself sacred.  I put a lot of myself out here to be judged, and there are just some things that I don't think I could possibly handle any criticism or "tough love" on right now.  I try to be a strong person, but we all have our Achilles heels, and I seem to have them in spades lately.

So for now, I'll leave you with this thought that I always remind myself of when things start to seem impossibly muddled and I don't think I'll ever see the light.

This girl:

Wrote this song:

About this guy:

And now she's engaged (married? I dunno...) to this guy:

 Gratuitous Ab Shot...

Kinda makes you think that everything does turn out okay in the end, right?

You Like Me! You Really Like Me! Or Do You...

I like to come across with this totally cool personality.  Like, I know I'm awesome and quite frankly I don't give a crap what anyone else thinks.  The problem is that I don't actually think I'm a cool person, and I care very much what other people think.  So, you can see my predicament.

Anyway, what you need to understand is that I plan on talking about boys here a lot, and my issues with them.  I can see how that would get boring, but hey, I don't give a crap what you think.  (But see!  I DO!  I do give a crap!)  So, my big issue with guys is that I want desperately to come across like I don't give a hoot if their interested or not, but seriously, what is the deal with the acting all interested and then the withdrawal?  I mean, it's not like I gave it up on a first date--hell, we haven't even HAD a first date if I were to be so inclined!

I don't know, guys, if you're reading (which you're probably not) help me out here.  Is he playing a boy version of hard to get?  Is he just not so much interested anymore?  Is he tired/hungry/busy and it actually has nothing to do with me?  AM I JUST MAKING WAY TOO MUCH OF THIS?  Why yes, I think maybe that's it.

So, anyway, I'll just go back to pretending like I couldn't possibly care less whether he's interested or not while inside dying slowly.  Have I mentioned lately how much I hate this?  Yes?  Well, let me just say again how very, very much I hate this!

I Am Soooo Over This

It's funny how life works in a sort of series of cycles.  You can break it down to the most basic level, and the pendulum swing is always there.  Hungry right now?  Wait an hour or so and I'll bet it'll pass.  All of your favorite shows are on tv on Tuesdays?  Well, just wait until Monday--not a thing on.  Feeling depressed and don't want to drag yourself out of bed?  Next week you'll be living the good life and can't remember what it feels like to be sad.

I'm finding that the same thing seems to work with boys, and quite frankly I am so over this whole dating scene.  That I've been on for a grand total of a month and a week.  Ugh.  Life is sort of stretching out like a barren desert into an endless horizon right now...

Two weeks ago it was like there were boys coming out of the woodwork.  There was flirting at work, emails, IMs... and now I'm sort of left wondering what exactly happened and if I did something wrong.  It was all fun and games though until I actually got interested in one of them, and now I'm realizing that I'm completely vulnerable to an idiot guy again.  A friend of mine made the comment that this is how it works with guys in her experience--there are a million of them all at once, but as soon as you try to pursue something with one they all vanish.

Anyway, we made tentative plans for the weekend, but they've fallen through, so it's back to just talking.  I'm just worried about falling for someone over the internet.  I knew him in college, but I haven't seen him in 3 years and I just worry that all of the chemistry and excitement we've got right now won't translate in person.  I also can't help but be a little untrusting nowadays.  Part of me thinks, maybe he's fine with talking big, but he doesn't actually want the work of following through.  I'm trying to be patient... it's only been a couple of weeks...

I'm also trying to avoid playing any "games", but I think you kind of have to in order to make any progress.  After the whole Colby relationship I'm extremely wary of being the pursuer or trying too hard to make something work.  I want to be chased, I want to be the one who could take it or leave it, but I just don't have that in my personality.  I want to play hard to get and be mysterious, but find myself being starkly honest about things and then terrified that I'm going to scare people off.  And as much as guys say they don't play games, that is such crap.  So much of the time I feel like I'm walking this fine line... keep him interested, let him know there's a chance, don't give too much of yourself away, make him work, be unavailable, but available enough so that he doesn't feel shut down.  I'm absolutely exhausted!

This is all a bit rambly and all over the place, I guess I'm just relearning this whole process as I go and it helps to talk it out.  So, I won't be going out on the "first date" this weekend, but I'm still staying positive about this one while not tying myself to it.  I'm going to Nashville next weekend for some girl time and I plan on going as a completely single gal with no attachments.  If things develop over time with this guy, okay, but I'm not ready to get squashed again.  But I'm still planning on having a good weekend.  Ellie's off getting spayed, so Jack and I will have an evening of peace and quiet, then tomorrow night I'm going out with some friends to party it up.  Viva la vie boheme!

The Latest Diet Craze

I’ve wanted to write a novel for as long as I can remember. I recall in my youth, holing up in my room for hours on end, writing in a bound, unlined book, illustrating the characters, working off of outlines and foisting my work off on anyone who would read it. I read one of these “novels” a few years ago and from what I remember it had something to do with a mother duck and her little babies and I think also a rather psychotic looking Mickey Mouse made an appearance as well. Yes, it was clear from an early age that I was destined for great success in the writing industry.

Anyway, I still dream of having a novel published someday, and at some point I will overcome my ADD efforts at authorship and make it past the first 10 pages of a plot. I may even have a little something worked out in my head already. But, did you know? You actually have to WRITE a novel? Like, they don’t actually just appear in your My Documents folder with an appropriately brilliant and catchy title. That’s rather disappointing, I think.

But, to get to the point here, I have a new idea for a new dieting book. Think about all of the money that you’ve spent on dieting crazes in your lifetime: Pills, books, support groups, recipe cards, fancy gym clothes that still have the tags and have been relegated to a dark corner in a bottom drawer—possibly hiding unmentionable items that should be seen by no other eyes than yours… I’m sorry, what were we talking about again? Oh, right, the diet book!

For the name I’ve settled on Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Scorned, But Damned If She Doesn’t Look Hotter Than Ever In Retaliation. I don’t know, I may shorten it up a little bit, but I think that’s the general concept I’d like to get across at first glance. People? I have lost FIFTEEN POUNDS without even TRYING. I know. I hate me too. You can throw things at me if you want.

Chapter 1: I Think The Dryer Shrunk My Jeans Again

You’ve settled into a comfortable relationship. You go out to eat. A lot. You don’t really work out as much as you should, because really, who has time to go work out when you have new restaurants to try together. Anyway, you’re in love. Who cares if you have little love handles! He loves your little love handles! They’re so delightfully squishable!

Chapter 2: You Have Got To Be F*(&%^$g Kidding Me!

You just got dumped! What the hell! Yesterday he loved you, and today you’re not The One?? When did that happen? It must be that hot secretary that he flirts with everyday. You’ve always hated that bitch. Sure you went to movies with her and talked on the phone for hours every night, but secretly you always hoped that she would get hit by a stray bicyclist or something. Anyway, point being, it’s over and more horrifying than the thought that the man you thought would be by your side until the end of time has left you with no advance warning is the fact that you have to get back out there and find another man to love you and worship you. Again. Dammit.

Chapter 3: Oh, God, When Did I Get Love Handles? Shit.

Chapter 4: The Depths of Despair

This is when you just kind of stop eating. Instead of going out to restaurants and cooking elaborate dinners for your ex-hunny bunny you don’t want to ever leave the house again and have resorted to eating stale cereal with questionably dated milk and jello pudding cups. Every now and then you might throw in a Girl Scout Cookie or Twix Bar. Cry. A lot. Preferably huge racking sobs, they burn more calories. Also realize that love handles might not be as sexy to all those other fish in the sea as that bastard that you’ve already forgotten the name of. (Or at least, that’s what you tell your friends.)

Chapter 5: Hm, That’s Weird, Last Time I Tried These Jeans on My Ass Went Numb From Lack of Circulation

You’re finally ready to start getting back out in the dating scene and are somewhat astounded to find that those jeans you spent an ungodly amount of money on and then accidentally put in the dryer (no, really, it was the dryer) and so hid in the back of your closet because you couldn’t bring yourself to toss them or donate them to Goodwill… um, they fit again. You are astounded in a very good way. Might just cry again. But again, in a good way.

Chapter 6: And Here We Go Again

Upon finding that some of your “hot clothes” fit again, become newly motivated in the realization that the male species could possibly find you attractive. Begin working out like a maniac and realize that all of the calories that have someway found themselves back into your diet are burned off by said manic exercising.

Chapter 7: Score!

I think it’s self explanatory, don’t you?

Anyway, I think if Dr. Atkins could convince a bunch of people that a steady diet of red meat, cheese, and bacon was a good idea, then my diet could go over just as well. I think it’s all about marketing and I think I will probably try to get Lindsay Lohan to be on the cover of my book and write a blurb. I mean, it obviously worked for her. I would not suggest the cocaine though. Or at least, I’d make it entirely optional.

And Then The Weekend Came, And It Was Very Strange

Wow, so, how heavy was that last post? Note: I did not say intelligent or witty in the least, but heavy, yes!

So, shall we move on to some lighter topics? Things like, oh, say dogs, boys, hair styles… that kind of thing. I know! How exciting! Hairstyles! (Any male readers I may have had depart from the scene rapidly at this point. Bye, boys! Thanks for stopping by! Try the veal!)

Should we do this is list form? Since we all know how much I love lists, I say let's do! And let's begin with dogs! Yay!

1) Hm, we're not starting out very well here, since I was finally going to post at least one picture of the Ellie dog here… but alas, I am at work, and there are approximately zero puppy photographs here. And so, you are spared for another day. I would however like to report that she has chewed my cell phone to bits and narrowly escaped being flung from the balcony in my fit of rage upon discovering this. It still appears to be functional in most respects although a bit mangled, but I had to jam the charger into the plug this morning, so I'm not sure how long it will be before that craps out on me. On the plus side, this may just be the excuse I've been looking for to upgrade to a Razr. What can I say. I'm an advertiser's dream.

2) Boys! I might have one hooked! I'm not sure if I'm happy about this or not! Dear God! Help! Waah! Want Colby! I think… maybe not! I think I do not know what I want! And other random squealie type things as well. But remember Ladies Man Boy? Anyway... He's rather interested. In me, that is... or so it seems… because that's what he said... Thing is, I'm not exactly how many girls he's interested in at once, and also have not actually seen him in about 5 years.

Commence freaking the hell out. Moving on.

3) And hair… I've been blonde for about 6 months now, so clearly it's time to change hair color. However, in a definite sign that I am growing older and more mature (read: boring), I'm rather thinking of getting back to my roots. (Ha! Roots! Pun!) I do like being a blonde, and it seems to be the color that works best for me, but I'm getting tired of the brassyish results from coloring it myself, and I think I'd like to go for a richer, darker blonde or light brown with some highlights. This obviously calls for a professional lest I turn out looking like Bozo the clown, so I figure while I'm there I may ask them to do something with my hair. But what!? I don't want to go short, I'm thinking layers… kind of a modified version of what I already have… where am I going with this? I don't actually have any idea… umm… any suggestions, I guess?

Getting Back To Me Now...

Okay, but let's get back to my problems now. I've had enough of being sympathetic to others' plights for a little while. Maybe next week I'll get back to that. For now, can we talk about boys?

Yeah, because I have determined that boys are very strange. I am not understanding boys right now, but I am very intrigued. As are we all, I guess.

I did a kind of completely out of character thing this morning. A local radio station has a DJ (male) that has recently become single, and there's a female DJ who is sort of perpetually single. So, they decided that they would take emails from people who wanted to go out on a blind date with them this weekend and each would pick a date for the other. Now, I've thought this guy was utterly hilarious ever since I started listening, and he's a large part of the reason why I tune in every morning. Unfortunately I had to run some errands before I got into work, so I'm pretty sure my email got in too late to be considered.

Wait--but did you read that?? I sent an email to a radio station to try to get a date with a DJ that I've never even seen a picture of.

Does that make me desperate? I'm not sure…

But I think I probably won't have to worry about it, because I'm pretty sure there are tons of other desperate girls in Arkansas who got their emails in before I did and lied about their chest size and sexual proclivities. I can't compete with that.

And in other boy news (because that's what we're talking about today), I got a random instant message yesterday from an old high school friend. We ended up talking for about an hour, and he was extremely flirtatious the entire time. We're both going to be at a friend's wedding this summer, and he basically asked me in a roundabout way if I would be his date.

Now, before we get all excited and girly and fluttery, we need to understand that this guy is a notorious lady's man. I think his number of female friends outweighs his male friends by about 80% and I'm pretty sure he's got at least 10 girls at a time thinking that he's totally into them.

So, again, we're not getting overly wound up about this, but still, it was fun, and I enjoyed feeling pretty and desired and flirty. I'm leaving it at that though, because right now the last thing this girl needs is to get burned again.

Of All the Doctors In All the World, and You Had To Date Mine!

Well, this is a little strange. Turns out that one of my friends is dating my Crazy Doctor. She’s been seeing this guy for a few weeks, but I never got his name, just that he was a physician’s assistant in our clinic. I kind of have no idea even to this day what a physician’s assistant is—like, maybe they’re sort of the dental hygienists of the health clinic world? But the other day she said his name—we’ll just call him Joe. And about 3 hours later when I’m taking my Crazy Pill I happen to glance at the label to see if I get refills or not when I see the name of the doctor—Joe Smith… surely not? So, I called her and asked casually what Joe’s last name was.

Smith.

And this weirds me out to no end. Absolutely nobody that I work with knows that I’ve been to the doctor for depression. I had to tell one friend because I happened to run into him at the clinic and when he asked me why I was there I thought it was a bit stupid to lie about it. I ended up telling the other friend though because I don’t know how to pretend like I have no idea who this guy is when in actuality I’ve been seeing him for a couple of months and telling him some pretty heavy things about myself. Honestly, he probably wouldn’t know me from a hole in the wall. I’m sure he sees hundreds of patients, and I’m just a face in the crowd. But how awkward would it be if at some point we’re out together in a social situation and I’m all “oh, how nice to meet you!”

She said that he’s really good about not discussing his patients, and abiding by doctor patient confidentiality, not to mention the fact that she knows pretty much everything I’ve told him anyway. It’s just kind of strange that of all the people he could be dating, it just happens to be my closest friend at work and of all the people she could be dating it just happens to be my doctor. Very bizarre, but really, the military usually ends up that way. “Small world” and all that jazz. Everyone’s path crosses at some point, and it’d be really easy to play 6 Degrees of Separation with pretty much anyone I’ve come into contact with since I started in ROTC.

But seriously. SERIOUSLY!

On another note, I may have a little crush. A little crush that will absolutely come to nothing as it’s one of those “worship from afar” situations, and I’ve never talked to the guy or have any real connections to him. But you know what? It feels good to know that that part of my makeup still works. I may be crushed and heartbroken, but it’s not the complete and utter devastation I expected. I have days of complete and utter devastation, and I’ll always wonder why, but I haven’t shut down emotionally, and hey, it’s fun to have crushes!

So, anyone have any Crazy Doctors I could date? I hear they’re great kissers…