Do I See An Anchor In Your Eye?
A Toast To My Chapter, And To Growing Old Gracefully.


It's not often that I let everyone here into my personal life (other than the boy-toys, of course). But this is really on my mind today, and I thought I'd share.

I've always been very proud of my Greek affiliation. I've been a member of the oldest existing chapter of Delta Gamma since 1995, and have been active in my alumnae group here in Cow-Town since I moved here. In fact, I think I reached out to them before my boxes were packed! My tattoo is an anchor dipping in two waves (the anchor signifies my sorority's symbol, and the two waves signify the two phases of membership: collegiate and alumnae). It's hard for those that aren't Greek to understand the deep bonds of sisterhood / brotherhood, and it's tough to explain it. As women, our lives have changed dramatically, but I still talk to every girl I've ever sponsored, most of the women in my pledge class, and some of my sisters. We've moved, we've grown, we've been married and divorced. We've had kids, bought houses, changed jobs, lost parents, and gained entire families. But the truth of the matter is: we always come back to the same place when we're together. It's like we never missed a beat.

This year, Eta chapter (my chapter) celebrates 125 years of being chartered. I plan on attending both my local Founder's Day celebration (well, I'm on the committee, so I'd better go), as well as making the trip to my initiating chapter's Founder's Day celebration.

One of my favorite stories: When JD, one of my dearest friends from high school, chose DG, I was ecstatic. I nearly turned myself inside out with joy. On her initiation day, RT and I jumped in the car at 3 AM and made the nearly 5-hour road trip to her chapter for the ceremony. We arrived at
least an hour prior to the initiates, and hid in the chapter room. We just blended in with everyone else, and waited for the ceremony to start. When JD walked through the door for the initiation ceremony, we were hidden. When she turned around to receive her badge, there I stood, waiting to pin her. Tears of joy just flowed, and JD was initiated wearing my badge. I just remember leaning over to her and JD saying "I can't believe you are here!" and I just said "Are you kidding? I wouldn't have missed this moment for ANYTHING."

I suppose this entire sappy entry was brought on by the fact that I'm a firm believer in the "each one, reach one" theory. (Maybe this is why I'm the Sponsorship Chair in my city ...) In life, your legacy will only continue if you continually search for your replacement. I make it a point
to sponsor one young woman a year, as a potential new member. So far, since I've graduated, my track record is pretty good (out of six years, two have pledged / initiated at their respective universities. The other four either chose not to go Greek, or selected a different group). And this
year, I just completed the form for a young woman that I've known for eleven years. I met her when she was seven years old, and I'm so very proud of the woman she's become. Part of me feels really old, but the other part rejoices in the fact that she's become such a beautiful, wonderful, and talented woman. I hope, sincerely hope, that she chooses DG. I want to be there at her initiation, and to pin my badge on her during the ceremony.

An Afternoon Diversion.
And other random not-so-newsworthy tidbits.

After a nice little half-hour long full-tilt fit with the elliptical machine, I feel refreshed. It's my coping mechanism, my way to exert my negative energy. Rationale: Maybe that's why I haven't been working out like I should lately ... I've been super happy. There is a nice hot bath in my future, because I betcha that I'll be sore tomorrow AM.

Quote of the day: This made me feel fantabulous. Ran into a guy that works in the GCC (the international nerve center of TheFirm's telephony operations) on the way out of work this PM. He mentioned that he hadn't seen me around the meetings of a project we had both been on. (Truth: I loathe Six Sigma projects ... I just went a few times as a favor to my then-boss.) Anyhow, he asked how everything was going, and how I was doing since he had seen me last (early December). I mentioned that I was now divorced, and that I had recently started dating again ... then mused that I defined "dating" as letting a man get past one date before picking him completely apart and finding a fatal flaw with him. The GCC guy found this amusing and just did the nervous toe-poking-the-ground thing. And then he uttered the words that made my day: "If you were my wife, I'd have never let you get away." I've been smiling ever since. That was the sweetest thing anyone's said to me in the longest time.

Damn Steverino: Has been making me have some naughty thoughts about conference rooms at work. I'm also terribly addicted to his blog. It's added to my blogroll for your (guilty) reading pleasure.

Fun in Cow-Town: The Buckeyes open their season on Saturday. I'm already having "Hang On Sloopy" and Cie Grant's version of "Carmen Ohio" crammed down my throat. Don't misunderstand me, they are both dandy songs, and I totally support the Bucks. But great googly moogly, can we please just NOT start that shit on Monday for a Saturday game? Particularly against the likes of f-ing Cincinnati. Michigan, yeah I get that. But Cincinnati? Blah.

As a further testament to Columbus' stupidity: people are stealing manhole covers all over the city. That totally rates a "what the fuck?" I could think of far better things to steal than manhole covers. Dumb asses.

Watching (soon to be watching it from the bathtub): Monday Night Football ... did anyone catch my sweetie-pie Howard Dean on the intro tonight? "We're gonna go to Green Bay, and to Indianapolis ... and then ... we're gonna go to Washington D.C.! [wink wink]"

at night i lay in bed
with static in my head


I couldn't sleep last night, I just kept tossing and turning in bed. I tried every trick in the book: the long pillow between the knees, the chamomile tea ... everything. And none of it worked. I'm not really worried about anything, I don't think. I didn't eat or drink anything that would have made me sleepless. I even spent some time on the phone with TheBoy last night, and as we all know ... this makes me happy. Consequently, I had absolutely NO reason why I should have been such an insomniac. Last time I looked at the clock, it was well after 1:00 AM. My alarm went off way too early this morning. Well, it went off at the same time it always does, but it just FELT early.

So, after smashing the snooze button twice, I stumbled downstairs to make myself a pot of coffee (as I only do when I'm really super tired). Coffee maker? Check. Coffee filters? Check. Coffee? Umm, no dice. I'm out of coffee. I nearly had a meltdown in the middle of the kitchen. Of course, as I live alone, it was no one's fault but my own that I was out of coffee. I stomped back up the steps and stood in the shower for a good 15 minutes, hoping it would jolt me into reality. I'm out of my "energizing" body wash ... have to go and buy some more this afternoon. Anyways, all the shower did was make me smile (after I was able to open my eyes completely) when I noticed my newly remounted shower curtain rod. Mental note: clear calendar for TheBoy. And be quick about it.

Today is going by fairly quickly. I'm working on reconciling control procedures with our self-assessments, then re-writing either document appropriately to make them match up. In English, this entails chasing people down to share information with me that they should have delivered more than a week ago. I mused to TheCubeMate that they should just make a cattle prod a "standard issue" item in our department. Either that, or a spork. (reference my "TURN. YOUR. SHIT. IN. ON. TIME. THEN. I. WON'T. HAVE. TO. SPORK. YOU." tirade from a few weeks ago.)

Speaking of TheCubeMate: The Rebel Phase's brother was a no-show (but not a no-call) for Saturday. Martinis are in order, tomorrow nite. Bar Louie, of course. I'm about to be the pretty boys' pimp. This should make me feel dirty, but instead I think it gives me an odd sense of pride.

Ah well, off to go and yell at people some more.

PS: I posted this via e-mail. Sorry if some of the formatting is jacked up, I'll have to fix it later tonight.

8:09 PM EDIT: And in case you didn't notice ... I fixed the formatting.

MTV - VMAs 2004
Recap

Hostess: Vanessa Manillo, a former Miss Teen USA. Nice that she's working outside of the pageant circuit! I like her on TV. Just wish she would have chosen a different dress - that pinkish-mauve silk scarf thing she was wearing just didn't show her great figure off.

Funny: Some guy in a blown-up clear beach ball, bouncing himself through the audience and onto the stage. Andre3000 and BigBoi from Outkast were on stage accepting an award, and this guy was just rolling back and forth on stage behind them. This amused me greatly. I was on the phone with TheBoy at the time, and I think he quickly grew weary of me giggling in his ear about it. EDIT: PrincessMombi informed me this AM that it is called "ZORBING".

Quite Possibly The Coolest Thing I've Seen In A While: Alicia Keys singing "If I Ain't Got You" (a current favorite song of mine), bring in STEVIE FREAKING WONDER on the harmonica, then add in Lenny Kravitz on guitar. Incredible.

Annoying thing: if I see one more damned "LiveStrong" yellow bracelet, I'll hurl. I certainly don't regard Lance Armstrong as a role model. It annoys me that the American public idolizes a man that lets his wife love him and stand by him during his life's biggest challenge, then he just goes and fucks around on her? Whatever. I'll reserve the usual "I can't understand how Hollywood not only overlooks, but glamorizes, infidelity" rant, for now.

More Annoying: Paris Hilton is a stupid whore. Memo to her ... you are NOT hot. You are bony and skanky. Take a bath, grow a brain, put on about 20 pounds. Only then might you be palatable. Enough said.

Not Annoying: Gwen Stefani. She is GORGEOUS! Just wish she would have chosen an outfit that matched ... blue/black bustier with red skirt? Oh princess, did you dress in the dark? 'Tis OK, you're still a hottie.

Polyphonic Spree: The bastard love-child of The Brady Bunch and The Partridge Family. On a lot of X. And LSD.

Back To Annoying: Those God-Forsaken GAP commercials. Do they think that the GAP will be cool again because they have Sarah Jessica Parker (she who played Carrie Bradshaw) as their spokeswoman now? GAP = overpriced yet marginally comfortable clothing - NOT fashion plate material. And if they could just play them TWICE instead of just once during every single commercial break, that would be fabulous. Pardon me while I bang my head on the wall.

Choose Or Lose / Vote Or Die: Was an ongoing theme all evening. And also, a nice touch with the finale. Pretty cool, and I hope that it encourages some of the younger folks to register and vote. As I always say: You have no right to bitch if you don't vote. But we could have done without John Mellencamp (does he still use "Cougar"?). If you're going for the whole "voting is the cool thing to do" tack, I would have left him off and just stuck with Amy Lee. More on her in a minute.

Cute As A Button: Mandy Moore. But was she wearing a floor length satin / silk evening gown at the VMAs? Usually, a sparkly mini-skirt with a matching top covering one breast (and a pasty on the other) is de rigeur.

MTV2 Award: YAY for Yellowcard. Interesting that they (a fairly straightforward indie type band) finds theirselves on the new "NOW That's What I Call Music" CD with the likes of Beyonce and D12. Hmm.

Video Of The Year: Although "Hey Ya!" was a great video, I think that Jay-Z got robbed. I'm just glad that Britney didn't win for "Toxic" ... although a fun video, not the best of the year.

Cute Goth Chick: Amy Lee of Evanescence. When she's not all black-lace-and-angry-lyrics, she's rather cute!

EPILOGUE: Make sure to hit up The Real Bunny Blog and read her synopsis of the party circuit. She's tending bar at some of the parties, and I'm sure she'll have some good stories. It may take her a few days to come down from the hangover - if it's tequila, figure it'll take a week. Hope she takes pictures.

Carnitas Burrito Bol, with mild salsa, and guacamole.
Light on the rice, please!
Oh yeah ... and can I have a side of "hottie" with that?

I don't understand the male logic sometimes.

After my seemingly endless tour of running errands and shopping (went to R's house, Target, Toys R Us, and PetSmart) today, Princess and I decided to cruise Chipotle for dinner. She, of course, is thrilled just to watch them assemble the delectable burrito. I, on the other hand, just want to consume its tasty carb-filled goodness.

Anyhow, we told the nice folks what I wanted in my burrito, and proceeded to the end of the counter. They weren't busy, for the first time EVER. I dug through my Kate Spade to round up my debit card, and looked up ... and HOLY SMOKES was the manager a cutie. I was totally pissed that I looked like death warmed over (hair back, no makeup, t-shirt and jeans, birkies). Apparently ... this did not impact the conversation at all. Cutie mentioned that Princess was the cutest kid, and that she looked like the Olsen girls when they were little (which I get ALL THE TIME). I stood there and talked to him for about 5 or 10 minutes, then realized that the burrito I just paid $7 for was getting cold. Princess told him "OK, see ya! Ciao, baby!" and I just laughed at her.

Cutie then says, "Wait a minute. You know, I've seen you in here several times ... maybe next time I'll be brave enough to ask you for your number." [insert very nervous but charming smile here]

Of course I gave him my card.

I like Chipotle. And that had to be the best burrito I've ever eaten.

Another year gone by.

Has it really been two years? Really?

Today was Princess' 2nd birthday party. I stood in my living room, eating copious amounts of barbeque and other assorted foods that will take me a lot of time to work off, and thought about this. It truly amazed me how much my life has changed in just a short amount of time.

It seems strange to me that my life is what it is. Like sometimes, I just look around and go, "is this really my life? Am I really here right now?" It's almost like I became a completely different woman for an entire five years of my life, a complete out-of-body experience. And now, it's just like I've been dropped into someone else's life. I don't think I would change anything, really. But sometimes, days like today make you stand back and take stock of your life.

After a house-full of people came and went, I'm left with just Princess and Salem The Super Cat. Neither of which are particularly interested in what I have to offer right now. Princess has oodles of new toys to play with (and apparently all of them need her attention at once), and Salem has a very full kitty belly of burgers, brats, hot dogs, and other random items. It's pouring down rain, complete with thunder and lightning, so going outside to play isn't really an option. So, here I sit.

Come on, 9:00. That's bedtime 'round these parts. Maybe I'll pick up the phone and call TheBoy - as it will surely make me feel a little better - and much much happier.

PS - if you want to see photos of today's Fiesta, just comment or email ... I'll gladly email you the link.

11:58 PM EDIT: Tonight, I didn't call him ... even though I really wanted to. And he didn't call me. I started reading Steve's Blog (not safe for some workplaces that have a text filter), and I got sidetracked for an hour or so. He's really an intriguing man, and I could honestly see some of his thought processes working throughout his trials. This both scares me and intrigues me, ha ha. He also made me think about some things. The night then got away from me, whether consciously or subconsciously - and now it's time for bed. Maybe the rain (both literally and figuratively) will ease when the sun parts the clouds tomorrow morning. After all, it's already looking up ... Mr. Valpredo was on the midnight news with a wrap-up from Athens. Good night, all.

A Healthy Friday Afternoon Rant.

The following things are pissing me off today. If you are not in the mood to read a random smattering of pissed-off-ness, I'd suggest not reading this entry.

1. The U.S. Post Office. They are an ANGRY little government agency. I hate them. I now remember why I'm a "FedEx" kind of girl. I wasted my entire lunch hour there. I waited in line for 46 minutes, only to be told that their customer service number told me one thing, and they needed another. I had the wrong form, and that was too bad ... I'd just have to come back some other time. I'm not kidding. Just what I want to do, waste another hour of my time in the ghetto-riffic post office.

2. My apartment complex. They had the damned nerve to put some sort of letter in my door last night saying that if I wanted to go month-to-month, it would be an additional $100 a month. Or that I could sign another 12 month lease to avoid this "unfortunate fee". UNFORTUNATE FEE? What the hell kind of crap is that? I had fully intended to sign another lease, as I'm too lazy to move, and am about that far from being completely debt-free. But it still pissed me off.

3. J. Apparently I have pissed him off by informing him that he is NOT God's gift to women. Contrary to his belief, not EVERY woman out there will just fall at his feet, naked, when he flashes that smile. Because you know what ... sometimes there are things (and people) that are more important in life than just a booty call.

4. The Time-Space Continuum. This day is just freaking DRAGGING on and on. Come on, 5:00. Momma needs a little weekend.

Check it out.
Brand Spank-Me New.

100 Things About -h.

Go forth. Read. Comment appropriately.

We Really Have NOTHING Better To Do?
a.k.a. We're Not At War, Or Anything.

Yahoo! News: DOJ Cracking Down On P2P

This story on Yahoo details how Ashcroft is proudly putting lots of government dollars into busting out people sharing movies and music over P2P networks. I mean, come on now ... do we REALLY need to put our resources towards this? Never mind the fact that there are people dying in Iraq and Afghanistan every day. Never mind the fact that we still have not found Osama Bin Laden. We need to spend whatever is necessary to root out these evil people. We MUST get those bastards, those hardened criminals, off the street. Throw them in jail, lock em up, throw away the keys. Because you know, they are the worst kind of criminal ... much worse than the short-bus-riding fucktards that ran Enron and WorldCom into the ground, costing thousands of people their retirement incomes and their jobs.

Jack offs.

rain
feel it on my fingertips
hear it on my windowpane

Here in the thriving metropolis of Cow-Town, the weather is far from delightful. It's been raining for two consecutive days now, and it looks like there's no immediate end in sight. The unbearable humidity is wreaking absolute havoc on my hair, and you get immediately sweaty when you walk outside the door (and not in a good way). While I usually enjoy the gentle summer rain, this time I am less than thrilled about it. Princess' birthday party is Saturday, and Weather.com is showing a 60% chance of thunderstorms for the day. Just what I want: 15 people crammed into my living room balancing plates of barbeque and birthday cake on their laps.

In other news:

Rulon Gardner retired from wrestling last night. Even the hardened Martini got a little misty-eyed when he took off his shoes and tearfully set them in the center of the mat. He seems like such a great guy, and I hope that his future is wonderful. Heard he got married a month ago ... what a lucky girl.

Ran into He-Who-Lives-With-His-Ex-Wife in the cafe this morning. Well, more like I saw him messing about at the Starbucks counter, and I quickly ducked into the horde of people in the grille line. As far as I know, he didn't see me. I'm not in the mood to deal with his crap today. The kind of mood I'm in, I'd have just unloaded on him about how I think he's dysfunctional (and that's saying a lot).

Sadly, there will be no TheBoy this weekend. I've had TheBoy around for three consecutive weekends now, and I'm beginning to think I got a little bit spoiled by that. Don't tell him (as it will feed his ego), but I really like having him around (and not only for breaking my shower curtain rod either). I'm hoping to make our schedules "mesh" here pretty soon for a mid-week diversion from my ordinary and semi-stressful life.

The Rebel Phase's brother may make an appearance at the party on Saturday. I'm hell-bent on hooking him up with my cube-mate (the one that no longer makes kissy noises at Lyle - they broke up earlier in the week). Worst case scenario, they can trade skincare secrets (they both are super pretty). Question: if you facilitate a booty call, does that make you a pimp?

MUY IMPORTANTE! The countdown to Atlantic City: just 21 days to go. We've been feverishly planning our attire, our trip, and the contents of our interstate roving mini-bar. Hell yeah.

As told to Birdherder this AM: Southwest Airlines will be beginning service from Murphy's city to Austin (where the Burdie lives). We must hook up the star-crossed lovers. Go to Murphy's site and donate appropriately. Your donations will help fund the airline ticket.

Time for bed ... but first, these messages.

So, there's two new blogs on the left. Check em out. One is Ren, L'Auteur (safe for work), and the other is KillerIdea (not safe for work). Enjoy.

Also: Ren piqued my interest ... I went to OkCupid and took one of their tests. It's SURPRISINGLY accurate (usually they are totally off-base). Whatcha think?

The Peach
Random Gentle Love Master (RGLMf)

Playful, kind, and well-loved, you are The Peach. For such a warm-hearted, generous person, you're surprisingly experienced in both love and sex. We credit your spontaneous side; you tend to live in the moment, and you don't get bogged down by inhibitions like most women your age. If you see something wonderful, you confidently embrace it.

You are a fun flirt and an instant sweetheart, but our guess is you're becoming more selective about long-term love. It's getting tougher for you to become permanently attached; and a guy who's in a different place emotionally might misunderstand your early enthusiasm. You can wreck someone simply by enjoying him. Your ideal mate is adventurous and giving, like you. But not overly intense.

DREAD: The False Messiah

CONSIDER: The Loverboy, The Playboy, or The Boy Next Door

Your exact opposite is: The Nymph Deliberate Brutal Sex Dreamer

Take the test!
Always accurate, always scientific:
http://www.okcupid.com/

listen to the color of your dreams

Thanks to Rhino, I had a dream last night that was rather ... to borrow a phrase from TheBoy ... interesting.

I dreamt of one Miss Lindsey Lohan.

And yes, I dreamt of her in "that way".

I'll give you no details, save that it involved candle wax, champagne, my 300 thread count Egyptian Cotton sheets, and some ice cubes.

*tingle*

I think that this is because I know that scheduling conflicts will not allow for any "quality time" with TheBoy over the next few weekends, so I'm supercharged right now. I suppose it's one of those "you always want what you haven't got" things. Anyhow, I woke up this morning at about 4:30, quite hot and bothered. I managed to roll over and go back to sleep for a few hours, and then I awoke to the buzzing of my alarm clock, as well as one very tasty Mike Valpredo on the morning news. He's still in Athens. Poor baby. He's very tan. And very tired, he said. I'll selflessly offer to help him overcome his jet lag when he gets home to Columbus. Because that's just the kind of girl I am.

Happy hump day.

Indian Summer.


Have had a lot of emotionally heavy thoughts and conversations in the past 24 hours. My belief system (otherwise known as my "boundaries and issues and shit") is being thoroughly tested. But today, I feel much better. Why, you ask?

Because the lawn guys are here at TheFirm. They are out in the courtyard and on the quad, planting the fall flora.

They are hot. And they are sweaty. And they are muscular. And they are FINE.

Off to have lunch in the courtyard, where I can get a better look at the eye candy. Oh my ... how I love Indian Summer in Ohio.

A Quickie ...

OK, so what did I do to deserve this?

J surfaced. As in ... "I'm sorry I've been so busy lately ... I want to see you" surfaced. And we all know what THAT means.

Now I'm in a moral quandary ... do I "see" him? Meeting with J only leads to one thing, in case you missed the memo. Christ, that man is so hot he can melt off a woman's panties with just a smile. He makes dynamite arm candy, and a fabulous FWB (Friend With Benefits). But, as I've spent my long lunch hour today driving around and deciding ... I don't think that's what I want anymore. Or for that matter ... who.

Enter the rationalization: Yes, I know J is hot. SMOKIN hot. And yes, I know he is great in bed. Yes, I trust him. Yes, he indulges my ... umm ... "wild side". But that's all the substance that our relationship has to offer. It's all very complex, really. There's more to the situation than I care to admit for now, but we will just leave it at this:

This empathy thing totally sucks. I have boundaries and issues and shit. Son of a fucking bitch.

What's Your Type?
And Other Musings.

The "What's Your Type?" question surfaces frequently. I don't think that everyone has a "type", really. I know that some guys' type is: "Female. Big boobs. State of consciousness negotiable."

But I can look back and realize that I generally am attracted to a certain kind of man, with rare exception. There are other things that turn me on, but this is just a generalization.

Taller than I am. I'm 5'9" tall. I have a 34 inch inseam. I prefer a man to be taller than I am when I wear heels (at least 6'0" tall is a must). With one exception, shorter than 6' tall boys need not apply.

Blonde (or, at very least, very light brown hair). I tend to be attracted to lighter complected men. There are a few exceptions (J, B, The Rebel Phase, and The TKE).

Blue Eyes. If they sparkle when he is thinking something mischievious, all the better. Big blue bedroom eyes ... mmmmm. They just do something to me.

Athletic. I'm not talking world-class athlete here, I'm talking able to walk more than a mile without getting winded. Able to keep up with me. Able to pin me down / overpower me when I get a little wild. Because it does happen.

Broad Shoulders, And A Bigger Body Type. I like to have arms wrapped completely around me, and my entire body just totally enveloped by his. I think it's a subconscious "safety" thing.

Funny. To me, there is NOTHING more attractive than a man with a great sense of humor. Arm-Candy type of guys are great, but they are even hotter when you can carry on a conversation with them.

Cocky. But Not A Jerk. Self-confidence is a HUGE turn on. A confident man is generally FAR better in life (and in bed). Mind you, there's a fine line, a delicate balance between being cocky and being a jackass. Cocky men with just a *teeny tiny* edge of shyness when around a woman alone will win my heart every time.

The Quintessential "Manly Man". I'm a sucker for a man that's masculine. Not the big hairy mountain man types, but someone that isn't a total sensitive "overly in touch with his feelings" or "metrosexual" kind of guy. With one exception, I've never been much for the "pretty boys". I would generally break them like little Barbie dolls, so I just don't find them attractive.

Communicative. I like a guy that will tell me what is on his mind, without being afraid / ashamed / embarrassed. A man that can pick up the phone and call me with or without good reason. A guy that understands a quick voice mail will keep you in the front of my mind. A well-timed (and nicely worded) e-mail will surely charm you back into my good graces ... even if you've been a jerk for at least a month. Maybe even two. :)

Romantic, But Not Smothering. Be original, guys. Blah red roses blah. Find out what makes me tick, and use that. I'm not talking a "Say Anything" kind of grand gesture here, it's the little things that count. Don't just do something romantic just for the sake of being what society deems romantic - do it because you MEAN it.

PDA. Not talking "jump me and hump me in public" here (although that is on my "to do" list). I'm talking about holding my hand, kissing me in front of people, calling me in front of your friends. Reach out and inconspicuously grab my ass as we're walking. Let me catch you looking at my four-star rack. A girl likes it when you show her, in front of people, that you find her attractive.

A Great Smile. I love those "I'm up to something" smiles. Look me in the eye ... make me wonder. The mystery of it all will get you EVERYWHERE with me ... I won't rest until I know what you're hiding under there.

Smart. Dumb guys suck. I have to be able to talk to you. I dated a guy once that I expressly forbade from speaking in public. He was so so so pretty, but oh so stupid. That lasted all of three dates, before I realized that no amount of hotness could make up for his blessed stupidity. I swore I'd never date an idiot again.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Do you really think that this is true? I mean, do you really feel more strongly about someone when they aren't around as much?

Spent the weekend with Mango* TheBoy**. Although I can honestly say that my feelings haven't "intensified", per se, but instead they have been reassured. Does that make sense? Let me try to explain: I can certainly say that I have a much brighter day when he is with me, and I really like having him around. I anticipate the time we get to spend together, even if it's just crashed on the floor laughing, or taking a wonderful mid-afternoon nap. I even enjoy it when he openly mocks me ... his playfully calling me a Yankee is rather amusing. Due to our schedules over the next short while, we will not have much time to be together. Hopefully we will resolve our conflicts quickly, as I enjoy his company very much. Time moves far too quickly when we're together.

Went out last night. We had planned on hitting the 5:25 showing of Collateral but umm ... we just didn't quite make it. So, we waited for the 7:00, and hit Robek's first. Whoo hoo, he's no longer a virgin. Big Wednesday for me, Mango Madness for he. Hit the AMC at Easton. The movie: It was faboo. I'm a pretty big Michael Mann fan (I, unlike Mango TheBoy, enjoy movies that make you think a la American Beauty and the like). Tom Cruise, although not my favorite actor, was refreshing in the role of the "bad ass". He actually used the word FUCK on screen. I don't recall him ever uttering that word in a movie before. Do you? And could Jada Pinkett Smith have been ANY freaking hotter? She is one luscious woman.

After the movie, we strolled over to Brio. Had a short wait for the best seating, so we sat out on the commons and watched people run through the fountain. Dined on the patio, of course. Had a dynamite shrimp risutto with a cheese/cream sauce (yup, straight to my ass), and some of their trademark flatbread. Complement with a nice glass of riesling and some fabulous company, et voila ... a great date. We took the long way back to the car, hand-in-hand, and drove on home. Took SuperPup for a quick walk (I had him last night), and then crashed.

This morning ... oh my. I have a newfound respect for mornings. And my shower. I won't bust him out too bad - but shall we just say that I found out that I can indeed exhaust my hot water supply? Oh and: he charmed me very much this morning. Ended up with a crappy migraine (of all freaking days), and only ate a tiny bit of breakfast. He could tell I felt awful, as I was quiet. He kissed me on top of the head while at breakfast, I found that very charming (go ahead ... say it with me ... awwww).

We came back here and took a short nap, bodies completely intertwined. Have I mentioned that they fit together really well? I slept so well, and "slept off" my headache. Unfortunately, a half-hour nap elapsed, and then he had to go. I hate saying goodbye to him. I suck at it. I thought I'd like the "buffer zone" of the distance between us, but I am becoming increasingly loathesome of it.

I'm tired. I think I shall nap now. He wore me out. And that's saying a lot.

10:40 PM EDIT: I realized a short time ago that my shower curtain rod has been pulled out of the wall. Whoops. Good thing I rent ... I'll just call maintenance tomorrow and have them come and fix it. But there is no chance in hell that I'm telling them how it got broken ... now THAT'S a great thought to take to bed with me.

* I've decided to call him that, as he was a little more than excited about the Mango Madness smoothie at Robek's. (If I recall correctly, something to the effect of "Oooh! Mango! I like Mango.") This, of course, launched us into a "you cannot have the Mango" giggle-fest. Funny guys are so damned hot. So, Mango it is. Besides, you people can't settle on an appropriate name for him. It's not fair for him to remain, as DQ says, "HeWhoShallNotBeNamed (a.k.a. HeWhoStillDoesn'tHaveACoolBlogName)".

** 8:10 AM EDIT: Due to overwhelming popular demand, he shall just be branded the totally unoriginal and uninventive name of "TheBoy". I've got far better things to obsess over. Like, why in the hell I can't be independently wealthy and linger in my bubble bath all day. Oh and PS ... just noticed that my clothes from Saturday are laying all over the living room still. Whoops. Better take care of that before I call for maintenance ... wouldn't want some guy seeing my v-strings.

The Ex-Files.

As it's not nice to kiss and tell, I won't exactly divulge which of these men I've slept with (and which I haven't). Don't try to guess, because I won't cop to anything other than what's written here. Instead, I'll take the tack of revealing only the exes that have made an impact on my life (positively or negatively). The rest will remain buried in "the vault", and will inevitably become fodder for drunken conversation with "the girls" someday. Some of this stuff, it's really funny that I even remember it. Here we go.

The High School Boyfriend. The consummate "high school athlete" relationship. You know the equation: pretty cheerleader / softball player + handsome blonde baseball player = one for the yearbooks. This was the guy that I lost my virginity to. His family had issues. He had issues. He was addicted to this bizarre candy called "Mambas". Caught him in flagrante dilecto with a girl named Lauren that he had claimed was "just a friend" all along. I still loathe that name. It's been ten years. I need to get over it. He went to OSU for pre-med, decided that he liked being a nurse instead, and got his MSN. His family is crushed that he's not some big cardio-thoracic surgeon, but nursing makes him happy. Lesson Learned: Trust is very easily taken forgranted and violated. Don't give it out too freely.

The Offensive Lineman, aka #71. In the beginning, just friends. Tall. Blonde. Built. Totally hot. A year behind me. Had a promising football career, was a starter on a league-champion offensive line as a junior. He got me hooked on Notre Dame. I encouraged him to get his shit together and hit the books, so he could get a decent scholarship to a half-decent school. Blew his ankle (achilles), and I helped him train through summer rehab (and study through summer school) so that he could hack two-a-days (blew my achilles the year prior, so I had a bit of "been there, done that" experience). We hit it off, and dated for a short while. Apparently, he read more into it than I did, and his mommy put her foot down. I wasn't in the mood (after High School Boyfriend) to deal with drama, so I told him that he needed to grow up ... and to find me when he did. Last time I saw him was on the quad at U of A and he was no longer playing football. He tore his ACL and didn't go back after that surgery. He was still living with his mother, even though his younger sisters had since moved out. From what I hear, he got his degree and is teaching at the same Catholic school that he graduated from. It is unknown whether he still lives with his mother. Lesson Learned: Don't date a momma's boy. You'll never be #1 in their eyes, and it's not worth the hassle ... regardless of how HOT they are.

The Childhood Sweetheart. During one of the "off again" times with #71, I made the mistake of smooching a boy that I had grown up with. I mean, we had been friends since he was eight and I was six. This set off a whirlwind of bad decisions on my part, and ended with a very public screaming match about #71 (apparently, I had missed the memo that we weren't dating other people). Lesson Learned: Don't kiss your friends. The damage is irreversible. Trust me, you can't ever go back to being "just friends".

Just After High School, aka "The Rebel Phase". In a total 180 from The High School Boyfriends, I dated a tall, dark, Italian "Danny Zuko" type hottie. It went back and forth for a year or so, dated "exclusively" for about six months prior to his admitting that he had another girlfriend. This angered me, and I told him to get lost. He joined the Marines to spite me, we ended up back together for a little while. I walked away when he knocked up another woman. I still speak to his brother (trying to hook him up with my cube-mate that makes smoochy-noises at Lyle). He since went AWOL (don't ask), settled with the USMC, and has two kids out of wedlock by two different women, the most recent being 19 years old when she gave birth. He's 30 now. Lesson Learned: A whore is a whore is a whore. They can't change. Don't expect it, that way you won't be disappointed.

The Ten Year Long Booty Call. We've already discussed B at length. Lessons Learned: 1. Don't violate the contract. Don't fall for your booty call. 2. Emotional unavailability does not make a good relationship (on either part).

The Dark Period. Dated a TKE in college. We were pretty tight, and exclusive for a total of a little more than 8 or 9 months. He was a staunch Republican that was a HUGE Bob Dole fan. He didn't like B, nor the fact that I was still really good friends (off-again period, but no sex involved at that time). I was B's fraternity's chapter sweetheart (I hung out with those guys so much that I had my own couch in their living room and helped with their rush parties and pledge weeks), and this pissed the boyfriend off greatly. It also pissed him off that I chose to go to the bars with my DG sisters, rather than go to a weekly family dinner at his house (an hour and a half away, each way). Good God, we were in COLLEGE. But, I digress. He was less than thrilled about the pageant thing, and thought he could get me to change my feelings on it if he bashed it enough. It came down to his making me choose between my life, my friends, and him. Umm, don't go there, you WILL lose. The final straw was when he laid the lavaliere on me, about six months into our "exclusive" thing. After about two months of wearing it, I subconsciously picked a fight that caused the demise of the relationship (three guesses who it was about). Eventually, we mended fences, and I hooked him up with a girl that worked for me. They are now married with three kids (and a fourth on the way). We all jokingly refer to that time as "The Dark Period". Lesson Learned: Don't ever get into a relationship with someone that expects you to change who you are. If they don't like you for what you are, then fuck 'em.

The Soulmate. Two weeks after breaking things off with the TKE, I went to emcee a pageant. While there, my mom introduced me to a nice boy that she was on the judging panel with. I vividly remember yelling at him the first time we were introduced, as I was trying to finish editing a script that I was to use in mere minutes ... and I was wearing my stage makeup, hair rollers, a button-down shirt, and that was it. Goodness, he was cute. His smile and sparkling blue eyes just had me eating out of his hand within minutes. We hit it off, exchanged numbers, and called back and forth several times. We were super compatible, and he was fun. He made me laugh, and I liked being around him. For some reason, we fell out of touch for about two months. Then, one day, I got a phone call ... "hey, how are ya. Here's my new phone number, I moved." That was in September. We spent the night together in early October, became exclusive shortly thereafter, I got my own "drawer" in early November, and we got engaged on New Year's Eve. I moved in with him (relocated to another city) in late March, and we were married in late April of the next year. He hated my family, and ostracized me from many of my friends. I lost my fiercely independent streak, and became a woman that I didn't recognize when I looked into the mirror. After about three months of being pregnant, we really just grew apart. I was depressed and angry, and honestly ... I was flat-out hateful. I can't exactly put my finger on what or when our marriage failed, but it did. I miss him some days, and other days I'm glad to have "me" back. Some days, I long to just "fix" everything, and other days I remember how I felt when I found out about a lot of the shit he pulled on me. I'm a little more bitter, a lot wiser, and significantly more jaded for the experience. Lessons Learned: 1. Just because you marry someone doesn't mean that it's forever. People break vows and promises, people lie to you even when they say they aren't, and there isn't a damn thing you can do about any of it. 2. Just because you love each other doesn't mean that you can live together. 3. You can't fix everything, no matter how hard you try. Some things are just meant to be broken forever.

so you go, and you stand on your own and you leave on your own
and you go home, and you cry and you want to die

Went to a sendoff last night for the SVP that got the axe. We totally surprised her, and she was really touched. She said that it will be hard to stand on her own after 12 years of the same company, but she will be OK. And I believe her. It was really bittersweet, as I'd have given my left arm to work for her again. It is funny, they "downsized" her, and her entire staff (and everyone that's worked for her in the past 2 years and left) was there to support her. There were about 25 people there to wish her well, including her out-of-town staff from Monroe LA, Cleveland OH, San Diego CA, and Edison NJ. We ate tons of food, drank lots of merlot (Blackstone, of course), played with Princess and Girlfriend's daughter (that's 28 days younger than Princess), we all laughed a lot and we even cried a little. This is going to suck, I'll miss her.

On the way home, I popped a little Love Spit Love into the changer (where the title lyric came from) and let Princess zone out to a little Nemo in the backseat (have a DVD player in the truck for times like that). Princess was crabby (it was well past her bedtime and she was quite overstimulated). She was in the midst of a minor instance of drama (read: whining) when NewBoy rang my cell. Have plans to go out on Saturday night. Yay! The day ended well, as it's apt to do when it ends with his making me laugh. I've said it once, I'll say it a million times ... funny guys are HOT.

Other thoughts: Have an errand to run this afternoon that I've neglected for a while - been a bad friend. I thought a lot about it during my drive home last night. Don't want to kick Friday off with a total downer, so I'll just leave it there ... and post about it later tonight.

NewBoy really does need a new name. Get to suggesting decent names, or Pinto will stick. Because it's been a little more than a month since he's been around, so he's not really "new" anymore.

On deck for this afternoon's post (as I usually do two-a-days, as NewBoy/Pinto notes): taking a cue from Man Moving On and writing up my "Ex-Files". This should be interesting ...

How Do These People Find Me?
Wait. Don't Answer That.


So, remember how I mentioned New Cute Blonde Guy from Claims the other day? He cruised by my cube and asked if I wanted to grab a quick cup of coffee this AM in the cafe. Whoo Hoo! During the course of conversation, it was disclosed that he has a son (cool by me, of course), and that he lives in a very nice Northeast Columbus suburb.

With his ex-wife.

Excuse me ... WHAT did you just say? Um, I *am* the queen of dysfunction and all, but this one takes the damned cake. I'm all for a healthy relationship with your children's other parent, but this is a little ... ummm ... much.


Boys suck.

My Purity Score.
What's yours?

EDIT FOR BIRDHERDER, ET AL: I don't have time to sift through the code right now, but here's the link to the test ... http://www.theferrett.com/purity/

Your ="Ultimate" Purity Score Is...
Category	Your Score	Average
Self-Lovin'	48.3% When I think about you - or anyone - I touch myself	65.1%
Shamelessness	52.4% It takes a couple of drinks	79.4%
Sex Drive	39.5% I got needs, baby, you gotta unnastan'!	77.7%
Straightness	5.4% Knows the other body type like a map	44.9%
Gayness	98.2% Repressed, are we?	83.7%
Fucking Sick	81.4% Refreshingly normal	90%
You are 55.75% pure Average Score: 72.7%
Take The Ultimate Purity Test and see how you match up!

Section 114.
Row A.
Seats 1 through 8.

This is where The Others and I will be seated to bear witness to the Miss America pageant (GASP! THE "P" WORD!) finals on September 18th. Just a mere 27 days until we unleash our fury on Atlantic City, New Jersey. GO AMANDA!

Martini quote of the day (regarding our hotel accommodations): "Dude, I don't care if I have to sleep under the boardwalk with the bums. *pauses* Actually, scratch that. It might be fun. Pass the malt liquor."

pull my chin, stroke my hair, scratch my nose, hug my knees
try drink, food, cigarette, the tension will not ease
i tap my fingers, fold my arms, breathe in deep, cross my legs
shrug my shoulders, stretch my back, but nothing seems to please

Ever have one of those days where your entire being is unsettled? I mean, the kind of day where you are completely ADD-riddled from the inside out. You can't put your finger on what you need to calm your soul, but yet you spend tons of time trying to find it. I've cleaned the living room, went for a run (yes, me, she-who-cannot-stand-to-run), did all of my laundry, went for a drive ... nothing seems to make me relax.

Work is kicking my ass this week. I'm spending the better part of my day working on auditing all eleven business units that I'm responsible for. This is fun, all right ... fun like a root canal. Without anesthesia. Instead of being seen as the nice girl that is doing an important job (saving their asses from being sued or fined), I'm seen as 'The Enemy". Well, with one rare exception: who is that new tall blonde cutie on the claims team? He has a KILLER smile. And no wedding ring.

Olympic coverage is boring me. I need to see more of the U.S. Water Polo team. They are ab-so-lute-ly yummy. Phelps has a great body, but he's a little thin for my tastes. Women's gymnastics are on right now. Yawn. More hot boys, please.

Speaking of hot boys: Things have been going swimmingly with NewBoy lately. I find myself QUITE smitten with him. On a scale of 1 to 10 (with 10 = undying love and affection a la Murphy and Burdie), I'd say I'm at about a 5. I usually hear from him by this time of night ... hmm. Should I call? Should I not? I suck at this dating thing. More later ... maybe.

10:55 PM EDIT: Sadly, no NewBoy tonight. I didn't call him either. I've debated it since my free nights and weekends kicked in promptly at 9 PM, but I held my ground and didn't call him. Maybe I should have. This whole game of dating is annoying. Should I have called? I could sit here and analyze this all damned night. Instead, I will just go tuck myself into my bed, all alone. Good night.

Yes, I know it's only Tuesday ...

But what can I say ... I'm a "planner".

I am free Friday night. Have two movie tickets and a gift card to Bon Vie in my Kate Spade. Along with my fabulous company, this date is worth a significant amount.

This wonderful prize package* can be yours if ... The Price Is Right! Start bidding below in the comments.

* Batteries not included. Tax, title, and license fees extra. Date does not constitute a contract, express or implied, for sex. Unless, of course, you are hot. Then, of course, standard disclaimers apply.

Post Number 250.

I didn't have a great and catchy title for this one, so I just went for the totally obvious one. Yes folks, this is the 250th post to grace the pages of ...::: grey.goose.cosmo :::... and not-so-dirty laundry. Who would have thought that my own little corner of the web, this little pithy indulgence, could have been so wonderful?

I got started blogging because of The Real MidgetBigot. Hands down, she is one of the funniest women I've ever read. Her sense of humor directly aligns with mine, and she has many of the same world views and experiences that I've had. Except for the fact that she is SMOKIN hot. But I digress. Nita is great. I would worship her, but this may offend her. Instead, I will just say that she kicks ass, and thanks for giving me the gift of blog.

I started writing a while ago, but never let anyone really read my work. I chronicled the birth of my daughter with humor and very little tact, and shared that with a select few people. It was well received, so I continued to write down my experiences and exploits (but kept them to myself). After the collapse of my marriage, and my moving out, I once again chose to seek solace in the written word. I decided to start my old journal, but hated the interface that EasyJournal offered. I came over here to Blogger, and I've been here since January.

It seems really strange to go back and read the archives. I'm such a different person than I was just a few months ago. I have really changed a lot since I started writing here. It was a lucky day that I enabled that fun little "comment" feature, too. This place has been my outlet for pain, for joy, and even for a little kiss-and-tell.

What does the future hold for your fair Martini? Who knows. There have been a few fun things (and people) that have come crashing into my life in the past few weeks, and a lot of things remain undecided as of now. But I'm sure enjoying the ride, and enjoying all of your comments and "warm fuzzies".

The folks here are great ... they know all of my neuroses, all of my faults ... and love me anyways. I think I'll stay.

Love to all ... thanks for reading my mind on a daily basis.

Uh-Oh! It sounds like someone's got a case of the MONDAYS.

The "Office Space" wannabe idiots here at TheFirm strike again.

The Powers-That-Be in Girlfriend's department have decided to go all "The Bobs" on her. She has to interview for her own God damned job. The EVP of the division came in this morning, axed the SVP in charge (as well as the admin assistant), and then informed everyone else that they will all be interviewing for nine slots. Oh and the best part? She did it via CONFERENCE CALL. Because God forbid she'd actually show up to fire 30% of her people.

In between my audits this morning (every quarter I audit each of my 11 business units' reporting structure and audit trail ... I love busting their chops on this shit ...), I redid her resume. My heart just aches for her, because she has a HUGE new house (like, 4,000 square feet and change), as well as she is obviously the major breadwinner of the family.

Can y'all muster a little prayer, positive thought, dance, chant, voodoo ... whatever you do. Because she's really nervous right now. Thanks.

7:45 PM EDIT: Girlfriend and D (her hubby) were just here. She has been working all day on posting for new jobs. Her interview with The Bobs is on Wednesday at 9 AM EST. I advised her that it was not a wise idea to walk in and inform them that "it's not that I'm lazy, it's that I just don't care", but that bringing them a suitable sacrifice (as in, a red Swingline stapler) may be appropriate. She found this amusing, hugged me, and thanked me for being such a good friend. I just wish that I could do more for her right now, but I suppose that being her comic relief will have to do.

"You ain't from 'round here, are ya ma'am?"
"Well, actually, no I'm not. Is it that obvious? And I was going exactly how fast again?"

This is one of the many highlights of the mini road trip to see TheBoy. One of the last things I was told was "don't speed through there, you'll get nailed." And of course, what did I do ... I sped. And I got pulled over. But luckily for me, the stars were in alignment yesterday (and my retired-beauty-queen smile is still fully operational), and the very nice State Police officer didn't see fit to write me a ticket. For the record: 74 in a 65 is what I was clocked at ... I was likely doing 85+ when I skidded past the cop. Oops. I still can't believe that I got off. Speaking of getting off ...

Had a fabulous night ... I have a new leader of my "top three" . Won't go into too much detail, as a lady doesn't kiss and tell that much. But shall I just say that it was well worth the drive? And that DAMN I could get used to that. Other festivities included: listening in on one drunk dial that came over the answering machine ... most amusing. Laughed heartily at it, because I'm rarely on the receiving (read: sober) end of a drunk dial. Thought we should go out, but my mind was QUICKLY changed. I don't even remember going to bed last night, just that we got there somehow.

After the usual early morning / late morning festivities, I was treated to a fabulous breakfast, and a cruise-controlled trip home. Stopped off in the Northern KY (heh heh ... KY ... it never gets old ...) area and hooked up with MAV for brunch ... ate at a dynamite little place called Indigo. Had a yummy salad, took more than half of it with (as I was still quite full from breakfast). A quickie stop at the Jeffersonville outlets was plannned, but I decided against it (back to school madness was evident). Grand total travel time today: six hours (when it should have only taken me 3 or 3.5). Hey man, half the fun is getting there, eh?

Off to hop into the Truckster again ... I have to drive an hour north to pick up the Princess from my mom and dad. I'm road-weary, but would (and will) do it again in a heartbeat.

Random Bits Of "Housecleaning".

1. Thanks to everyone that wrote me and/or commented on yesterday's entry. I received quite a few notes of support. It's not often that I'm introspective like that, but when I am, it's a rare treat.

2. Will be out the rest of the day, and likely all day tomorrow ... have a little road trip in the works.

3. [nothing]

4. Since Burdie has posted his ode to Starbucks, allow me to post my ode to Robek's. I love Robek's. I need Robek's on an almost daily basis. I just broke down and bought a travel cup, because I'm there so damned much. If you have a Robek's in your hood, I strongly suggest trying them out. Now. Go. Try the Big Wednesday. You won't be sorry.

Here's a photo of my Columbus hangout ...



And when I'm up to see the parents, I hit up the Akron location ...

The "Go Moment".

In life, there are multiple "Go Moments", moments that you can identify as life-altering or personality-shaping moments. Sometimes, they are the obvious ones (marriage, birth of a child, death of a loved one, etc). But sometimes, they are subtle and unrecognizeable to an external party - and even to yourself until long after the fact. And the hardest part is that you don't even realize how that one snapshot, that one moment in time, can change your life forever.

I spent some time last night reading AoB's journal. He makes me wistfully remember a lot of my past heartaches and joyful times. And it really made me think a lot about one of the defining "go moments" of my life. Last night I realized that I too had violated The Contract. You know, The Booty Call Contract. I totally fell for my booty call, and he fell for me. I won't say that he was The One, because I know that he wasn't. But I realized last night that I can honestly say he is one of the two men that I've ever truly loved.

B had always been my perennial date, the one that I called for formal events (because he made fabulous arm candy ... I've already mentioned how closely he resembles Bosco from Third Watch), date parties, even a new movie that one of us wanted to see. It was never a question of who either of us would show up with, because it was just a given that we'd show up together. We shared the same political views, the same semi-cocky attitude, pure attraction for one another, similar life goals, and religious backgrounds (we are both recovering Catholics). The only major philisophical difference we shared was football team worship (I'm an Irish fan, he loved Miami of Ohio for some god forsaken reason). Many nights were spent just sitting outside under the stars, drinking beer or a glass of wine, and just laughing and talking and kissing until the sun came up. He was a good friend, a great lover, but really bad as a "significant other". In retrospect, I guess I wasn't the best "significant other" either.

I had been dating a hot guy for a while, a winter thing. Nice guy, lots of fun, but I had heard from a mutual friend that he wanted to settle down. As in, he was ring shopping. This, of course, was not my intention at the time. I was looking for a nice way to end it, as he was a pretty nice guy that deserved a woman that wanted the same things that he did. And then, of course, B decided it would be a fabulous time to come crashing back into my life. We had begun to spend a good amount of time together again, like peas and carrots, as it were. And then, about two months later, he dropped the bomb on me.

We had agreed to meet for dinner at a mutual favorite restaraunt. I ordered the usual, as did he. As we sat there and ridiculed the drunk woman at the bar, he turned to me and took my hands in his (as he always did) and looked me squarely in the eye and said in his quiet voice ... "H, I have something to tell you." I felt a wave crash over me, and to this day I'm not sure whether it was pure terror or total anticipation. And then ... I often replay this moment in my mind, in slow motion ... "I'm getting married. In three months." I nearly choked on my risutto. I must have been quiet for a few minutes, because all I remember was him reaching out and brushing the one tear that streamed down my face, and saying "please H, say something. I can't take this. Please just ... just say something. Anything." All I could muster was "Do you love her? I mean, B, do you really truly love her?" and he just shrugged and said, "She's comfortable. She knows me, and she understands me. My mom likes her, I guess." By this, I was totally baffled. I mean, why would you marry someone that merely understands you? I just had to get out of there, because I felt the impending emotional disaster. I didn't want to make a scene, because I knew that soon I would either explode into tears, or I would explode into rage. Neither option was appealing.

So, I gathered my little remaining composure, and he paid the bill. I offered my half and all he said was "No, don't. Please just let me do this, OK?" We walked out into the parking lot, and I unlocked my car door. He mumbled something unintelligible, and poked at some melting snow with his shoe. I just wanted to go, to get away from that moment, I didn't want to remember him that way. He reached out and brushed my hair away from my face and said, "you know I'll always love you, right?" And he gently kissed me goodbye. I just touched his face, brushed away his tears and said in a barely audible whisper, "B, I know. I'll always know." Then, I got in my car and left him there, without saying another word. When I was out of his view, I pulled over and sobbed uncontrollably for nearly an hour.

In hindsight, I'll never be the same. He broke my heart. I received an invitation to the wedding, as well as the subsequent cancellation note. And he never did marry her, I'm sure he'll never marry anyone. He will never be tamed ... he just needs the right woman to run wild with him. And I really, truly hope he finds her.

Doesn't this seem random? Hopelessly random?
(bonus points to anyone that can identify where the title came from ...)

Been a while since I had one of these "random rants" kind of posts. The last one I can recall was the "why do we have name-brand eggs, as they all come from the asses of chickens" one. So, for your reading (and commenting) pleasure ... here we go. If you have anything to add, please comment appropriately. I like comments, they make me feel good, and loved, and needed, and stuff.. Almost as good as a nice shiny quarter ...


1. Since when did the demons at Verizon Wireless decide that it was OK to eliminate my detailed billing? Did they think that I just wouldn't notice? I mean, there are only a few people that I actually call from my cell phone during a month's time, maybe 20. But for some reason, one of my "most expensive calls" was to Provo, Utah. Umm, I don't know *anyone* in Provo, Utah. I'd like to get my hands on this number, because the thought of my calling there just makes absolutely no sense to me. But I'm not motivated enough to actually call Verizon's "Customer Dis-service" number, because I don't feel like sitting on hold for an hour. This troubles me greatly.


2. McDonald's now takes credit cards. This shoots multiple holes in my "but I can't get an Egg McMuffin value meal for breakfast ... I don't have any cash on me" theory. I can just feel the size of my ass growing by the minute. I might as well just invest in a better bike, as I'm about to spend copious amounts of time riding it. Speaking of bikes ...


3. There is a number three today. Why are bike helmets so stupid-looking? I mean, I wear one when I ride because I am not particularly coordinated, and I think that I have a good amount of guilt on me if I don't wear one. But great googly moogly, they are fugly. It looks like someone put one of those foam ice chests on my head and secured it with rubber bands. Now, in all reality, will that really stop my brain from spilling forth from my nostrils if I get ran over by a huge SUV?


4. Semi-annual performance reviews are the silliest thing I think I've ever dealt with. TheFirm implemented this fun little torture strategy, and they are really reinforcing it this year. I, of course, received "Exceeds Expectations" in several areas. While this gives me the warm fuzzies and all, it sure don't pay for the new lingerie in my drawer. If you are going to make us have a semi-annual review, then you should give us a semi-annual raise.


5. Along with Murphy, I rejoice in the fact that school's about to start back up. I relish my leisurely walks around Easton in the late summer afternoons, and they are currently marred by little yuppie children kvetching at their parents to buy them the overly priced junior-whore clothes (of underwhelming quality) that Forever XXI has to offer. Allow me to get a smoothie or a latte (half 2% and half soy, please) and mill about in peace, stop making me wander up to my only place of solace in Easton Station (Bar Louie) to get some respite.


12:45 EDIT: I'm super duper bored. My boss is off today, her boss is off today, and it's pretty much just organized chaos around here. NewBoy has been absent today. I'm not in the mood to deal with J today (yes, he's still around in a very limited sense ... limited to my voice mail, that is ... how did I ever live without caller ID at my desk). I'm not meant to work today, it's 68* and sunny outside. Amuse me, please.


Quote of the day, from Girlfriend: "I need a new scale. I don't like the one I have. I have to bend down to see the numbers, and that sucks because I weigh more when I bend over."


3:00 PM EDIT: Viva La Weekend! ... In an interesting turn of events ... I have NOTHING to do this weekend. The Princess is going to stay with her grandparents from Friday evening until Sunday evening. The weather is supposed to be 75* and SUNNY on Saturday, and 77* and SUNNY on Sunday. What to do, what to do ...


4:18 PM EDIT: Weather Report and Disturbing Conversation Du Jour. Can you tell I'm really bored today?

Weather Report: Good thing Pete and his buddies are home from his little debaucherous trip to Florida ... apparently the weather gods are pissed that they cleaned out all of the liquor in the Ft. Lauderdale area. Two hurricanes at once ... yup, they are REALLY pissed.

Disturbing Conversation Du Jour: Per this afternoon's discussion with a very funny, very single, and very charming co-worker: there is a phrase that he and his buddies use to define relationships. "Home Ass and Away Ass". See, back in the day, he went to an out-of-state university and had a girlfriend there, but kept the girlfriend at home too. All the while, sleeping with both. (Before I go any farther, yes I know this was an HR Reprimand waiting to happen ... but ... he's really really really cute ... ) Now, I've only been "tamed" by one man in my life. Generally, I'm the "not getting tied down" type. Someday, I'll settle down again, when the right situation presents itself. For now, I'm enjoying the latitude that being single offers. Maybe I'm a prude, but I can't fathom actually SLEEPING with two men (or more) at the same time. Not only are there significant emotional consequences, I just have this bizarre nightmare of landing myself on Maury Povich, getting paternity tested. ..:: shudder ::..

A multitude of questions.
(aka: You ask. I answer. You decide.)

1. WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR BEDROOM WALLS?
Realtor Beige. Boring.

2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
Control Self-assessment: A Practical Guide, for my impending certification testing (sitting for my CCSA exam in November)

3. WHAT'S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
I'm actually using an old copy of "Human Resources For Dummies".

4. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?
Cranium, Monopoly, or Battleship

5. FAVORITE MAGAZINE?
Maxim or Cosmopolitan

6. FAVORITE SMELL?
Eucalyptus Spearmint aromatherapy stuff from Bath And Body Works

7. FAVORITE COLOR?
Sunshine or School Bus Yellow

8. LEAST FAVORITE COLOR?
Orange

9. HOW MANY RINGS BEFORE YOUR ANSWERING MACHINE PICKS UP?
Four

10. MOST IMPORTANT MATERIAL THING IN MY LIFE?
Pictures

11. FAVORITE FLAVOR OF ICE CREAM?
Breyers Mint Chocolate Chip or Graeter's Black Raspberry Chip

12. DO YOU BREAK THE SPEED LIMIT DAILY?
Daily? Try HOURLY.

13. DO YOU HAVE A STUFFED ANIMAL IN YOUR ROOM SOMEWHERE?
No

14. STORMS - COOL OR SCARY?
If I'm safe in the house? Cool. If I'm in the car or outside? Scary.

15. FAVORITE DRINK?
Grey Goose Cosmopolitans, of course!

16. WHEN IS YOUR BIRTHDAY?
April 4th

17. FAVORITE VEGETABLES?
Asparagus or Sugar Snap Peas

18. IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY JOB, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Beach Bum

19. IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY COLOR HAIR, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
I like my red hair.

20. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN LOVE?
Yes

21. TOP THREE FAVORITE MOVIES (IN ORDER)?
Animal House, American Beauty, Gone With The Wind.

22. DO YOU TYPE WITH YOUR FINGERS ON THE RIGHT KEYS?
Yes

23. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?
Stray socks, dust bunnies

24. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE NUMBER?
My favorite? 69 of course. (my lucky number is 18)

25. FAVORITE SPORT TO WATCH ON TV & IN PERSON?
On TV: Football
In Person: Hockey

26. WHAT IS YOUR SINGLE BIGGEST FEAR?
Not being able to take care of Princess.

27. FAVORITE CD OF ALL TIME & RIGHT NOW?
All time: Peter Gabriel, "Shaking The Tree"
Right Now: Dido, "No Angel"

28. FAVORITE TV SHOW OF ALL TIME & RIGHT NOW?
All time: 90210
Right now: either OC or Las Vegas

29. HAMBURGERS OR HOT DOGS?
Depends on the mood

30. THE COOLEST PLACES YOU'VE EVER BEEN?
Balashi Gold Mill Ruins in Aruba.

31. WHAT WALLPAPER AND/OR SCREENSAVER IS ON YOUR COMPUTER RIGHT NOW?
No wallpaper, and just a blank screen saver

32. DOES MCDONALD'S SKIMP ON YOUR FRIES & DO YOU CARE?
I haven't noticed, and I don't really care (I don't eat them enough to notice)

33. FAVORITE CHAIN RESTAURANT(s)?
Either The Lube or Wendy's (mmmm Mandarin Chicken Salad ...)

34. IF YOU HAVE A BOY (OR HAVE ANOTHER BOY) WHAT WOULD YOU NAME HIM?
It's a decision left to discussion between the parents. No preconceived notions here.

35. IF YOU COULD LEARN TO PLAY ONE INSTRUMENT OVERNIGHT, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Piano. I can play a little bit, but not enough to be worth anything.

36. WHERE DID YOU GET THIS FROM?
Murphy's comments, of course.

I *heart* mergers.

You know what I realized at lunch today?

All the hot boys work for the OTHER half of TheFirm. The newly acquired half. Not my half.

The Employee Financial Services team was here on-site recruiting new accounts.

Methinks a transfer to "the other side" may be in order.

There was one particular hottie that made my jaw drop and my toes curl up in my Colin Stuarts. Good Lord, I'm a sucker for tall, dark, and handsome (and blue eyes).

I need a moment alone ...

On The Menu This Evening:
BLT Sandwich, Mandarin Oranges, A Tall Glass Of Milk ...
and an extra helping of reality!

Well, it's a strong possibility that I need to add "serial relationship slayer" to my impressive resume of "computer killer" and "serial fishy murderer".

Earlier today, I took an unprecedented step and asked NewBoy to join me for one of three occasions (yes, this time there was a number three): an evening that I had planned to spend with him (but ended up with Princess that night because R made other plans), joining me for Princess' upcoming birthday party, or waiting until Labor Day weekend to spend any significant time with me (have much to do over the next few weeks). Yes, you read all of that correctly: I extended the invitation to meet Princess and/or my family.

This behavior is unprecedented because: I am fiercely protective of my daughter, and keep my family rather "in the dark" about my social life. I have recently discussed how I compartmentalize my life, and I realized today that I think that was a major factor in the long-suffering alienation of R (not that it excuses his infidelity, emotionally destructive behavior, and other issues, but I digress).

Yet while this openness with the rest of my life is unprecedented, I think it was a harsh serving of reality for NewBoy. See, up until about three hours ago, I was a hot chick with some *serious* skills. But in truth, I'm far more than that. I'm actually a pretty complex and warm person, and to let someone get to know that side of me ... I'm going to have to let them "in".

We shall see whether I break the mold, or add another talent to my resume today (other than, of course, fabulously talented artist).

7:40 AM EDIT: Thought that I would perceive it differently in the light of day. Ummm, nope. Still the same assessment of the conversation. Why, you ask? Well, it was pretty much a train wreck on my part.

How is it possible that someone that has made a living by communicating with others, can fail so miserably at just coming right out and SAYING things? I stammered, I stuttered, and I didn't really get ANYTHING out. To top it all off, I didn't sleep worth a crap either because of this - I tossed and turned and just couldn't sleep. Don't get me wrong, there wasn't anything really negative, per se, that was brought up. Really, the conversation was a positive one. In fact, I'm sure other (translated: lesser) men would have bailed out at the point that I finally opened up the floodgates and let a good part of it out. But he didn't. Impressive.

Life was a lot damned easier when I was emotionally unavailable. I need a drink. Yes, it's 7:40 AM. It's gotta be noon somewhere.

Artistic Talent Runs In The Family.

Can you tell me which one I drew, and which one Princess drew?

I'm a singer, not a dancer.
(otherwise known as "Tea For Two")

I'm busted.

"The Others" now know the true identity of NewBoy.

So much for keeping it on the D/L. I've tap-danced around it now for a little while, but my mission to keep it totally quiet has officially failed.

Whoops.

all my thoughts just seem to settle on the breeze
when i'm lying wrapped up in your arms
the whole world just fades away
the only thing i hear
is the beating of your heart

I don't quite know what to write today. Part of me wants to chronicle every single blissful moment of the past two days, but the other part of me wants to keep it private ... a delicious secret between he and I.

Really, I thought today's post would be a random smattering of the things that please me, the things that make me happy (like, say ... today's the Hall Of Fame Game ... I *heart* Monday Night Football). But in all reality, I only have one thing - one person - on my mind. And it's certainly not John Madden.

This entry has taken so many forms this afternoon, as I've written and re-written it in my head so many times. But I think that the title of it says it all. Well, that and this little secret: I love it when he holds my hand while we're sleeping.

Some People Frighten Me.

Really, this is a real organization. I'm not kidding.

I'm scared.

http://www.cuddleparty.com/

Discuss.

(PS: thanks to Tucker Max for that gem.)

These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life

Do you ever dream about what you'd like to do if you had unlimited financial resources? What would you do if you were able to do whatever your heart desired?

My ultimate fantasy would be to pick up and move to St. Thomas or St. John. I could retain my American citizenship, as they are both American possessions. But I could live in blissful happiness in the Carribbean. I'd purchase a modest (by Carribbean standards) property off of Magen's Bay, with some sprawling beachfront access. Princess could run crazy on the beach all day, just playing in the sand and the crystal-clear waves as long as she wanted. We could nap in a hammock that's stretched between palm trees, letting the tradewinds gently blow our hair in our face. We could grill out every night, with plentiful and copious amounts of "Ott Dawggie" and fresh-caught seafood. I'd be able to live my dream of owning a night club with neon paint on drums, lit up by blacklights (a great idea from the movie "Miss Congeniality"), and could go there whenever I pleased. I even have the name for it ... "In The Paint". I could sail between islands whenever I wanted, shop in all the great little tourist-trap type stores downtown, or just stay "local" if I wanted.

Someone needs to call the lottery commission and tell them to hurry up and pick my Mega Millions ticket already. I have big plans for that money.

Having company tonight - so I won't be online. I'm off to make my bed - because you never know who will see it. I'm also planning on following KBear's rules to the "T". I need to take a nap, too. I couldn't sleep last night, was up past 3:00 AM. I think I have a bit of the whole "Christmas Morning" thing going on ... but I'll never openly admit it. I watched "Indecent Proposal" for about the millionth time. Maybe tomorrow I'll start the conversation about the premise of that movie ... but for now, I have legs to shave.

I *heart* technology.

I realize I've been down on the tech side of things, but I just began a torrid love affair with my new piece of equipment. Check out my new router! Hopefully the built-in hardware firewall will keep the meanies away from my computer, and save me from hosing a fourth system in a month.

Off to pull a Murphy ... there's some good flicks on Lifetime today. I'm well into "Where The Heart Is" right now. It's a great story! Maybe I'm just in a sappy mood today ... but I just LOVE LOVE LOVE the song at the end ("There You Are").

9:15 PM edit: Is it wrong to want to lick Keanu Reeves from head to toe (and every place in between)? I just watched The Matrix, yet again. Now I'm watching The Replacements. Two of my favorite things all in one film ... football, and Keanu. mmm. Keanu.

I have seen him play with his band, Dogstar. Methinks he should stick to being Neo.

Other inspirations of the day include: folding towels. This, my friends, is a major anomaly for me. I loathe folding towels, but I did it today just because ... well ... just because.

Can you tell that I'm terribly bored today?

One lonely beastie I be
All by myself without nobody

I'm bored. I'm online for a chat with my class (thankfully, it is over tomorrow), and I have to sit here and read other people's "presentations" on various legal issues. This bores me. I can read a textbook, if I'm so inclined. So, I watched Pretty In Pink (great flick), and now I'm about to get up and pop in Animal House. Another hour of this chat madness and I'll go crazy.

Although one good thing came from this experience ... I was reminded how much I adore OMD's "If You Leave". Great song. I remember smooching a boy to that song ... per usual, I was a freshman in HS, he was a Senior. He was super cute, and I noted that he finally married the girlfriend he had after me. Yes, I've been out of school nearly eleven years. Nothing like a long engagement, eh?

OH LOOK ... time for our team to "present" ... be back later, I'm sure.

Yet More Sprizee-Cam!
Check out my toe-ring ... you know what they say about girls with toe-rings ...

Quote Of The Day.
Now with edited goodness!

From Tucker Max:

"Bitch, I don't care if you think your pocket Jacks are good, I'm calling your bluff and going all in."

This week's story isn't one of his best, IMO, but still funny. My favorite is still either Miss Vermont, or The Austin Road Trip. Go forth and read.

Miss Teen USA is on. Nothing makes you feel old like hearing a girl you used to know when she was seven take her chance to tell the world ... "Courtni Hall, 18, Indiana!" Christ I'm old.

Other tidbits:

For Lunasea and DramaQueen ... REDHEADS ARE HOT. Yeah, that's right. You heard me. HOT.

Quite possibly the HOTTEST song I've heard in a while ... "Here With Me" by Dido. I'd forgotten how much that song turns me on. It spun in my changer on my way home from work, windows down and sunroof open.

Wireless Internet Router ... Micro Center ... $29.99 and then a $20 mail in rebate. That's tomorrow's purchase. Beautiful weather tomorrow, and I'll be cleaning my house with all the windows open.

Did I mention I'm having company on Sunday? This departure from my normal course of events (work to home, home to work, work to home again) is welcome. VERY welcome. Yes, I know this is all cryptic, but you don't expect this girl to spill ALL of her secrets at once, do ya?

I took a "mental health" day on Monday from work ... TheFirm will survive without me for a day, I'm sure. I'm not sure where the day will lead, but I know it certainly isn't going to lead me into work!

More random sleep-deprived ramblings.

1. I want wings. Lots and lots of chicken wings. Wings from BW-3s or Roosters. Maybe The Lube. With cheesy fries. And some ice cold beer. Miller Lite. Now, mind you, I don't care much for fried food ... so why am I craving it? Is this some sort of metaphor for something (someone?) that's missing in my life today?

2. The guy in the next cube is making kissy noises to his boyfriend on the phone. The boyfriend's name is Lyle.

No number three. There is never a number three.

4. I'm bored. And pissed off. My directive to my business folks was to update our audit matrix, and return it to me with their validation by noon. They are late. They are also consequently screwing my schedule up. I deal in information. I depend on others to do my job. I want to go and stab them repeatedly with a spork right now ... all the while screaming "TURN. YOUR. SHIT. IN . ON. TIME. THEN. I. WON'T. HAVE. TO. SPORK. YOU." Actually, I think "to spork" is actually an active verb. An "action word" if you will.

5. Miata is competing this weekend. I will not be there to see her win. This troubles me greatly. I want to be there when they put that spahhhkly on her head. Ree will be there, and she has a handy-dandy camera phone. She better use it and send me photos and stuff. Or her fate will be much like the one described in number 4. ha ha

6. I'm doing really well with this whole drinking plain water thing. I'm on my 3rd bottle for the day. I have been trying to drink four full 20 oz. bottles each workday. I'm about to float away. I feel like I'm just sloshing around all day long. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming ...

7. Today's cosmic tidbit: "You've got passions that haven't even been named yet. Get out there and see if you can find a gang of like-minded weirdos who'll make you feel like you've come home." Passions that haven't even been named yet? NewBoy? Hmm. Ponderous. And we've already established who my like-minded weirdos are.

8. I *heart* the MTV Party To Go CD's. They are keeping me awake today. Nothin like a good bit of 90's R&B / Dance tunes to keep you movin. Currently spinning: "Come And Talk To Me" (mmm ... Jodeci) ... "Crush" (the "deeply crushed" remix) ... and "Baby Got Back" (the unedited version).

9. Birdherder needs a job. I think I'll try to help him find one with TheFirm. Leave your email, Burdie, and I'll get with ya off-line. We need to find you a suitable employment situation, so that you can make an honest woman out of Murphy soon.

I'm sure there will be more later. Gotta do something to stay awake, and God forbid I'd actually work.

Yawn.
(aka: I didn't sleep at all last night ...)

So, I didn't get much sleep last night. I'm really really tired. I had a totally cute blonde in my bed, and I was awake for the better part of the night.

Get your mind out of the gutter, kids. Princess is cutting her two-year molars, and she was pretty miserable. Her little gums are all swollen up, and her little jaws are tender to the touch. She was wailing at about 1:30, and I went to pick her up and she said, while sniffling, "Mommy! Cuddle. Snuggle. Please?" Come on now, how can you say "no" to that? So she snuggled up to me, and sighed, and went to sleep. Poor little thing tossed and turned and whimpered all night, too. I broke down and gave her some Motrin at about 3, and some ice-packs for her little jaws. She breaks my heart when she hurts, and I can't fix it. I just want to make it magically all better for her, to stop her from hurting even just a teeny tiny bit.

Warning: Sleep Deprived Ramblings Follow ...

Although I try my hardest to keep this journal about my daily life as a single woman in constant search of her "groove", sometimes the other parts of my life sneak in as well. I'm fiercely protective of Princess, so I try to keep her life as seperate as possible from my exploits. But in all reality, her life is my priority. In every little thing I do, every decision I make, she is the deciding factor. Always. I don't write about her often on here, because I guess it's my odd way of keeping my life compartmentalized.

I often wonder how hard it is for a single guy to date me. Let's face it, I'm not the easiest person to deal with sometimes. I'm opinionated, busy, stubborn, ambitious, a workaholic, and a single mom. I will always be inextricably linked to R, he will always be in my life. And my daughter is, and always will be, my priority in life. But I have many redeeming qualities as well: I'm fiercely loyal, passionate, believe in total fidelity, have a great core group of supporting and loving friends, am honest (sometimes to a fault), fun, witty, and kinda cute. As I've said before ... eventually someone will surface that finds my insecurities and idiosyncracies endearing.

As Stuart Smalley says ... "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and dog-gone it ... people like me."

One. Two. Three Strikes ... YOU'RE OUT!

It's official. I am an idiot. I have somehow managed to hose yet another computer. This is three computers in just as many weeks. As per the very tear-filled conversation with R at about 11:30 last night, I am now a serial fishy murderer and computer killer. But at least the fish is still kickin!

Anyways, I'm now approaching "indentured servant" status with R for all of his technical assistance. It's about to cost me much more than a nice dinner, for all of his help. I hope to be back up and running soon, complete with a new hardware firewall.
For now, don't send any email to my Yahoo account. I won't get it, because I think the virus is living in my Yahoo mail. There's a few emails I want to try to salvage, but I'm just going to delete the better part of them. If you want to chat, you gotta comment ... I'll check in from work, etc. Pass this along, as needed. I'll post when it's safe again.

Love to all ... and to all a new hard drive. Again. And again.

my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard

Well, usually it does. But not today.

NewBoy is still on vaca - a sabbatical, if you will. Never thought that I'd actually look forward to a drunk-dial, but I do. No hot and steamy conversation, too loud in the bar. I'll reserve that for a future conversation, and hopefully it will transpire quite soon.

J is in his own little "place" right now. He's still around, but in a more "platonic" way. Every so often, he'll slip in a little not-so-subtle nuance, but it's not as "hot" as it was. Not sure what his major malfunction is, but I don't have the time or energy to find out. Nor do I much care any more.

Speaking of whom ... the time elapsed since the last time I got some? Three weeks, two days.

So, I really have nothing to write about. The circle-jerk continues at TheFirm, so that pisses me off. Although today was a total ass-kicking day in Risk And Compliance Land, so that part makes me happy. So, I'm pulling an Eden and starting to write up some of my escapades, just for kicks. Granted, mine are not nearly as erotic or HOT as hers, but at least mine are mildly amusing. And they don't have to be about sex, but I may throw one in from time to time. I can start with the reason I no longer consume AfterShock. It always makes me smile.

It happened during Christmas break, back in my Sophmore year in college. B and I were on one of our "off again, let's just be friends, and occasionally sleep together" phases. We went through those cycles, where we would go out as "friends", and then end up in bed together. This particular night, I had went to meet a friend for dinner, and it was snowing gently. As I was paying my tab, B rang my cell. He says something to the effect of how he is bored and wants to hang out. (Which, in B and H code, means "it's been a while, wanna get your freak on?") So we agree to meet at the usual place (his place), and sit down to a beer. We get this crazy idea to sit around and drink all night, just the two of us. In hindsight, this was probably not the best idea, when it is proven time and time again that you can't keep your hands off each other.

Anyhow, after much innuendo, we both decided that we were in a "cinnamon" mood. So we cruised down to the liquor store and invested in a bottle of After Shock. And that, my friends, was the beginning of the end.

Now, B isn't a terribly big man. He has maybe an inch on me, and is what The Others would call "pretty". He has that very "Ashton Kutcher" kind of fine bone structure. So of course, I get my smack-talk on, and say those famous last words ... you know the ones ... "Let's go - you and me - shot for shot. I can take ya." Fair warning - never utter those words to a terribly competitive Capricorn. Even if you are a really headstrong Aries.

So, we just sat there for hours on end. We drank, and laughed, and talked, and drank some more. I chatted about the most recent boy I had dated but not bedded, he talked about the recent women he had bedded but not dated. Oddly, this type of subject matter never did make us uncomfortable ... I'm not really sure why. Anyways, about three hours went by, and the bottle was empty. And we were smashed. Not just giggle-fest drunk, or even sloppy drunk. We were shit-housed, fucked-in-half, Tucker Max drunk. The last thing I remember was saying "hmm. what else you got?" ... and the inevitable response was "let's go upstairs and I'll show ya." I remember taking his hand ... and that was it.

At some point the next morning, I woke up in the middle of the floor, on the landing on his staircase. I was no longer wearing my fashionable sweater and jeans - but instead a Miami Of Ohio sweatshirt and boxers. Neither of which, obviously, were mine. After I could open both of my eyes simultaneously, I rolled over and threw back the covers and there was a sleeping B ... blissful freckles and all. Wearing my shirt and his trademark flannel boxers. And that was it. On the other side of me ... dozens of smashed crackers and animal cookies - and two empty bottles of liquor. Neither of us could explain the events of the evening, nor do we care to. I think it's one of those things that just was better off "unsaid" forever.

Both of us were sick for days. But we've never broached the subject of that night, in all of our conversations since then. It's been nine years since that night, and I still have the sweatshirt.