Not Ready

AND I am back.....thanks for waiting so patiently while I had some events happen, so that I could let you guys in on the secrets of my excitement filled life. Here goes, the events of the weekend. Try and keep up.

Friday night.

Dinner at my favorite restaurant in Dallas, Glorias. It is Equdorian food and MUY EXCELLENTE. That means UM UM GOOD in espanol.

Back to Ron's house so that he and Tony could talk about their cars sit in them, and act moderatly straight while I drink a Screwdriver. Two hours of that and I head into the tsunami that had made its way into the metroplex while running for my life trying to stay dry. Seriously, I could have drown on the way home.

Back at la casa, I sat up and talked to someone, you know who you are, until about 1 and then headed to bed, thankful that Saturday was the next day and that I could sleep in.

No such luck.

At 800 am my phone rings. Ron sounding very jovial for this early Saturday hour. He requests that I take him to the airport so that he can hop on a jet plane to New Orleans for a weekend of enjoying the debauchery that is Mardi Gras.

In exchange I get to drive around while he is gone in the Benz. I agree. Track pants, a long sleeve T and teeth brushing later I meet him at the gate to my apartment. He peels out causing a yellow light on his dash to warn him of the traction control problems that might arise from continuing to operate the vehicle in a similar manner. Fear on my part for the 2 minutes that it takes us to get to Love Field. We arrive unscathed and he hops out to catch his plane but not before he tells me.

"Stay at the house, that way I know nothing is going wrong" "You can drive my cars, but DON'T drive the BMW"

BASTARD!!!!!! Although it was disgusting, cold, and wet out on Saturday, Sunday was prime time convertible weather and I would be taunted by it being parked in the garage. Oh well, no complaints, I am tooling around in a big Mercedes sedan.

I spend most of Saturday doing nothing. In my track pants. I eventually took a shower but track pants were the wear of the day until 630. That is when it happened.

I did it. I went out on a date. The first real one since the dreaded day in early January. I can tell you from that single experience, I. AM. NOT. READY. End of story. We had a great time, he was funny and so was I, we had intelligent conversation and kept it lighthearted, but I am just not ready to dive off into something again. Luckily, he understands this and agrees.

I refuse to be the serial monogomist. We all know them. The ones that hop from one relationship to the next never really recovering from the angst and anguish.

I think that you have to have some sort of emotional healing time in between daters.

Even though he was HOTTIE MCHOTT.

Seriously. One of those that you aren't really sure if you want to date or just put next to the fireplace as an art piece.

After we went to dinner we went out and met some of his friends. Yeah, talk about intimidating, go out with a guy in which EVERY SINGLE HEAD turns when he walks by and I mean every one.

Men, women, children, inanimate objects, none of them could seem to take their eyes off of him. This happened at the restaurant too but not as much as at the bar.

I felt good and I looked good too. We went to the Round-Up, which is sort of like Brokeback Mountain to the tenth degree. Cowboys everywhere. Dancing, singing, drinking, kissing. Yeah, I know, it freaked me out a little too the first time that I went there. We two-stepped. Actually, he two stepped and I tried not to two step on him but I caught on pretty quickly. The gays. We are a quick bunch.

We go out, I spend WAY too much money (as usual) and then we go home. This is the tricky part because I have two options here.

#1 Kiss good night and go home being the ever prudish like good boy that I can be when I so choose.

or

#2 Get down and dirty with Hottie McHott.

Okay, to be honest, it was a hard choice. #2 would have been SOOOO good but knowing me, knowing what I have been emotionally going through in the past month or two, and knowing that sex has become too emotional to let it be casual (DAMN CONSCIENCE) I chose #1. Kiss good night and head home.

NOT BEFORE stopping at Whata Burger for my potato taquito. I had danced hard and could use the calories.

Yesterday, nothing. I got up, washed the Benz, got cruised at the carwash (seriously CAN YOU NOT DO ANYTHING IN THIS TOWN??) and went to lunch with Tony. He is my therapy away from my therapist and always willing to listen. Sometimes he doesnt tell me what I want to hear but that is probably why I talk to him so much. I spent two hours on the phone with my ADHAMPTO and then drove and listened to music with the windows down and the sunroof open.

That is my relaxation. That is my meditation.

When the world is coming right at me and making me a LITTLE stressed out, I drive. I load up the iPod with faves and drive around just thinking about everything and nothing all at the same time. Very relaxing. Breeze in your hair and a shiny hood ornament to look at.

I am sure you kids are bored by now. Nothing really funny to tell just my life. But, in short, I am not ready, so I am going to stick to my guns and just be by myself for a while. Date Britt exclusively because from what I can remember about dating him before, he is a really great guy.

Hey Hottie......

Well, it is blatantly obvious that my life has been overtaken by tax returns. This will be the fourth weekend in a row that I am planning on coming into the office to get some work done. It is hard to prioritize because the returns are billed at a flat fee and the accounting work that I have to do is billed by the hour so the accounting work seems to be more advantageous to me from a billing stand point but I can hear you falling asleep so I will move on.

Last night, I went to a business mix and mingle. The shake hands and kiss babies kind of thing. Being the face of my firm is so hard, but someone has to do it. LOL. Anyway, as I was leaving there was this group of guys that were somewhat attractive and by that I mean they appeared to have come from their apartments instead of from underneath a bridge where most guys who hit on me come from. Anyway, back to the story. I am walking with Ron (the boss) and these guys literally stop in their tracks and start a hooting and hollering not unlike New York City construction workers when Pam Anderson walks past.

(Not that I have seen this happen, but it is what my imagination compared it to.)

I smiled politely and continued walking because it is slightly embarassing. Ron turns to me and said "Well, those guys were after you evidently". My response, "Yeah, when did that happen?"

Ron: What?

Me: When did I start attracting attention?

Ron: You always have, you just havent ever noticed before, you have the same allure that your brother has, you just don't utilize it.

This is all very strange considering that I have never really thought of myself as having any sort of allure at all. Then I thought back about the evening. No less than four people came up to me and commented on my recent weight loss. Heartbreak will do that to you. That and I have been trying to eat less than the obscene amounts of food that Texas considers to be 'normal'. As a result, I have lost eleven pounds since Michael and I broke up. This is a good thing. Today, is a good day. Last night was an incredible boost to my self esteem or whatever little there is left. I am considering stopping the self hatred, "You look like crap" commentary when I am getting ready in the morning.

If this sounds all to conceited, someone pinch me. Although this IS my blog so......

Lifestyles of the Rich and Stupid

Interesting news story that I ran across yesterday. According to police and the ever famous, Kidd Kraddick in the Morning, two 17 year old girls decided that they would race the exotics that their daddies no doubt fawn over daily.

One of the girls, whose father owns the exotic car dealership in Dallas, was driving her fathers 300K dollar Lamborghini Murcielago, pictured here in yellow.

The other girl was driving her fathers extremely rare and VERY expensive Ferrari Enzo. There are only about 50 of these jobbies in the country and they are valued at about 2 million bucks. See example here in red.

They race and evidently they have NO experience and NO business driving these cars so they run head long into each other. Of course, you knew that was coming because it wouldn't be news if they raced and went home and no one knew about it. Obviously, these cars are not 1970s Detroit steel so they are not meant to really protect you when you get in an accident.
The girls of course had sideline watchers and lambo girl sent her brother to the hospital. The girls went to the hospital with bumps and bruises but believe me, if that was MY child, she should be more concerned about the wrath of Dad than the pain of the car accident.

Here is what these cars look like now.
What is an appropriate punishment for wrecking your dads 2 million dollar Ferrari?















Authors Note: Thanks to some nudging from Maidink, I did a little bit more research on this story. I found out that it is a complete hoax. It started off in new Jersey and then the author somehow decided that Dallas was a better location for it. While its more than likely fake, its still an interesting contemplation. What is a suitable punishment for wrecking a 2 million dollar car?

Easy As Life

Weekend over. Went here, went there, did this. I did go ice skating with Tony and Dylan at the Galleria and found that I really enjoy it. Its so cool. I forgot since it has been years since I have been. I have also learned that you have to watch for the small little skaters, especially the ones that know what they are doing, they will run you down. No falls to report on anyones part.

Work on Monday morning of course is somewhat uneventful other than the fact that there is one particular person who thinks that I am mentally incapable of performing certain tasks. I have decided to take the Enrolled Agent Exam in September which will allow me to perform IRS negotiations and bill at a much higher rate, which is always good. This, no doubt, will cause bitterness from a particular party but, ask me if I care. I need to learn, I feel like my brain is getting soft the longer I go without some form of education. The likely increase in salary will also be VERY helpful at this point in my life as well.

It seems to be scooting along with no really large bumps in the road to report. I went out to dinner on Friday night with some friends and wore leather pants. YEAH, leather pants. I have learned that if you wear leather pants into a bar it will cause people to lose all control and feel that you have given them an open invitation to touch your pants. This is an incorrect assumption on their part. Please do not touch me unless you know me or are on your way to purchase me a drink.

Back to the grindstone. The ides of April are approaching rapidly and I must keep up.

My Girlfriend?

I am feeling better, all I have to say is thank God for these little puppies. They seemed to have knocked that strep right out of his place in my throat. Look Mom I can eat again without wincing in pain.

At about 130 this afternoon I went out on a trip. Not necessarily going anywhere but I HAD to get out of my apartment. I was going stir crazy. First of all, there is nothing on TV past 12 that I want to watch unless I am interested in

A)Who someones baby daddy REALLY is

B)Watching random people sue one another over the toaster that he/she broke while moving out of the shared abode.

C)Nick Cannons Wild N Out on MTV that seems to run on repeat.

I got out and drove around for a bit to just listen to music and enjoy the beautiful weather that we are having here today. I feel slightly guilty for skipping work but I feared that I might still be contagious, so I will get over it. Anywho, I am at a stop light sitting next to a pair of MAYBE 16 year olds in school uniform garb listening to Ashlee Simpson in their convertible BMW. Yeah, puke on them for both counts of heresy. Anyway, they motion for me to roll my window down, so I do and this happens

The Plastics: Did your girlfriend pick those sunglasses out for you?

Me: (Slightly confused about the thought of having a girlfriend) manage to stutter out, No, I don't have a girlfriend.

This sent them into some sort of giggling seizure as they sped off and let me totally confused as to what just happened.

I admit that my sunglasses have thrown some attention my way in the few months that I have had them but never has anyone asked if my girlfriend picked them out. That is amusing in and of itself, for if I HAD a girlfriend, I don't think that my sunglasses would be her first choice for me to wear. Maybe for HER to wear but not so much her boyfriend. See pic of them below.


Now, I may be wrong so the straight women back me up on this fact. Belinda, would you ever let Alex wear these? Maidink, can you imagine Geo in his big truck running around in Diors? Shannon and Vic, would you put your men in these? Well, maybe Vic. I think that G would look particularly catching in these. Shannon, these do not allow for good hunting goggles so I think no for John.

Those silly girls, they should learn if they havent by now that straight men USUALLY do not run around in a red sports sedan wearing Christian Dior sunglasses. Is it actually possible that bleach can bleed into someones brain. These girls were no stranger to the beauty salon, but I always thought that was an urban legend. In this case, it may just be true.

6th In Line

We have converted another one, NOW WHERE IS MY TOASTER?!?!?!?

Check out my buddy Drew's blog, 6thinline.blogspot.com

He is funny, he is fresh and he is new meat.

BOO you whore!!

The Verdict

I woke up at 4am and my body refused to allow me to return to sleep. Mostly because it felt like someone had crammed sandpaper down my throat. The scratchy throat has turned into a full on war.

In this corner we have a mere mortal man who has been plauged with the disease since he can remember (six times in college, in less than a year). Opposing the defending champion is the evil, painful, and unpleasant strep throat. He has tried many a time to defeat our champion but his plans have been foiled every time to date. Our champion will once again be victorious for he is armed with the mighty and fast acting, Leva-pak, five day antibiotic. HA HA!!!!! You will be foiled evil villan.

I spent most of the early morning in bed watching mindless drivle on the boob tube. I called my doctors office first thing when they opened and was told that he could see me on Thursday. Thursday my ass. I could be in the hospital by then if this is left untreated. I called a doctor that a co-worker goes to and was scheduled for this afternoon. God love United Healthcare. No primary physicians, just go to a doctor as long as he accepts the insurance.

I went, I waited. My appt was at 145pm and after getting slightly lost trying to make my way to the office I sat sitting for one hour in the outside waiting room, listening to a woman file her nails and then another hour in the exam room. I was grateful for the Dr. to see me at all. He gave me the scrip and I was outta there, off to Walgreens to collect my drugs, ice cream and the latest Us Weekly. I am vowing to spend the next 24 hours in bed, on docs orders and kick this disease.

Thank God for ice cream and modern medicine.

RISE UP SINGLES, AGAINST THE ANTI-HOLIDAY

I know its been done and it is SO cliche but I hate valentines day.Call me negative, call me bitter, hateful, mean, cruel. Call me whatever you want to call me. I do not like Valentines Day. Wait....I LOATHE the holiday. It's not even really a holiday. It is the anti-holiday. Its the day that the people at Hallmark got together with the people at the Flower Store and said lets trick the American public.

I have never been a big fan of it in the first place, much less now, when I am single and fabulous. Of course, I have mostly been single on the anti-holiday so there was never really a reason for me to enjoy it. In fact, its a made up anti-holiday to make single people feel like they are less than their attached counterparts.

I went in Kroger today and it was everywhere. Big red heart shaped balloons, roses, flowers of all kinds littered the shelfs and any surface that would stand still long enough to hold the displays. I had to pay attention to nothing but my pound of roasted turkey breast and my credit card until I was in the safety of my Valentines Free Zone Nissan. Sadly, even it is red. SEE!!!! I can't escape it.

Sure, I would love to have someone to share my love with on a particular day but even in elementary school it was a torturous holiday. You made your little Valentines mailboxes and handed out your cards and then went back to your desk and read them all. Well, it could be torturous depending on if that hottie with the New Kids lunchbox was putting a Valentine in your box or not.

I strongly considered staying in bed tomorrow and listening to Marilyn Manson but seeing as how that would qualify me for the gold medal in the Bitterness Games, I have elected to not do that. Therefore, I will get up tomorrow and wear a red shirt and participate in the holiday that makes me hate being single. But really what is so wrong with being single? Nothing. Nothing at all. In fact, I am changing my viewpoint of the holiday as I write this. I am going to be my own Valentine. I am going to take myself to dinner and enjoy the quiet and solitude of being by myself. No need to make meaningless conversation, just sit,watch and communicate with myself.

Note to reader: Never approach the single dining alone on Valentines Day. They are likely to explode and cuss you out for no apparent reason. Please don't look, stare, point, or in anyway draw attention to them. They can be a dangerous creature capable of much destruction and mayhem when provoked. By provoked I mean basically any action of any kind.

If you are supposed to be with the one you love on Valentines Day then I will be, I can't imagine being with a person I love more than myself.

Well maybe Tom Ford.......

Oh, he is so hot.

ANYWAY, back to the rave.

I am still decreeing that I am going to start a holiday called "Being Single Is Fabulous Day". Anyone, who wants to participate can celebrate the day with me and my single friends. It will be held on April 9th and we are all going to get together and drink wine and talk about how fabulous it is to be single.

YEAH FOR BEING SINGLE IS FABULOUS DAY!!!!

authors note: No people in relationships were harmed during the creation and/or reading of this message.

My name is Britt and I approve of this message!

Blog paid for by the singles against Valentines Day Fund.

Work-Enthusiasm=Nothing Accomplished

Its Monday. Fantastic. After the weekend of failure, thats right, I went to the bar, AGAIN. I can't stand it. I think that I have the addiction and the worst part is that I didn't even have to have my arm twisted it just kind of happened. On a better note, it was just a fun celebration of being alive. Nothing exciting or dramtic happened and I didn't get torn down, snot slinging drunk either, just enjoyed a few beverages and people watched. That is the most interesting of all the things that I can think to do is just people watch, especially when they play a particularly lively song and the natives get restless.

I did come in contact with a drag queen that was SO overdone I was frightened when she made her appearance at our table and said "So this is where all the hotties are tonight." MAJOR collagen involved in her look. Possibly the most overexaggerated features I have EVER seen.

Yesterday, after the Saturday night festivities, I went to my brothers and had dinner with he and his partner, played with my nephew poodle and then came home to watch the dramatic conclusion to Greys Anatomy. I LOVE THAT SHOW!!! Anyway, my throat had started with the scratchyness at this point, meaning that I would get very little sleep last night. Fact. I tossed and turned and COULD NOT get comfortable all night long. Needless to say when my alarm peeled at 730 this morning I was NOT in the best of moods. That has thus turned into one of the most unproductive days in recent memory. I have a short temper and could explode at any moment for little to no reason.

My throat is still scratchy and I hope to God that I am not coming down with strep or something worse, although it serves me right. Will report back on the status of my fever.

Robbed by a Mexican Restaurant

Ron (my boss) and I went to eat at a Mi Cocina a local mexican place that is super good. We go eat, pay, my total was like 16.85 with tip right? I look at my bank account the next day and there are two authorizations for the same amount, no big deal. They havent actually HIT the bank yet, but I watch it. Yesterday, I look at the account again and they have BOTH posted to my account. No big deal because it is 17.00 but it is still the principle of the matter that they stole my $17 dollars.

I call and the lady informs me that her supervisor wanted to talk to me and offer me a gift card and invite me back to the restaurant. Okay great, but he wanted to tell me himself. Fine. Get supervisor on the phone.

He gets on the phone, HEAVILY accented English and tells me that instead of refund my money, they want to give me a gift card and invite my back to the restaurant. NOW WAIT. I was double charged so I am in fact PAYING for said gift card. Does this sound like they are robbing me gunpoint? Yes, I thought so. He refused to refund the money because of some higher authority authorization process or something. Irritated and flustered I hung up and called Chase bank and disputed the charge. My bank told me not to worry that they would take care of it.

I was robbed. They tried to trick me. Worst of all, they tried to trick an accountant. THAT IS MY JOB to keep up with peoples money. They knew it too. My fax cover has the name of the CPA firm that I work for written really big on it. IDIOTS!!! NEVER AGAIN

Weekend

Here it comes. Tonight at 5 pm the weekend officially starts. After the last weekend that I had involving hangover, liver pains, and fear of sunlight I have decided to take it easy. I am QUITE sure that at some point someone is going to try and twist my arm to come out with them and I have to be strong and say NO. All I have to think about is the haunting pain that the liquor left on my brain as well as my credit card.

NO BARS!!!!

On another note, it is raining and cold here today. Where did THAT come from? I honestly thought that Texas was the two season state; warm and hot. It has been an average of 70 degrees almost everyday here and I was unprepared this morning when I walked out my door and got hit with a stiff COLD breeze.

We are T-minus 2 months and 9 days until I leave for Chicago with my mom. I am SO pumped about this trip. She went last year and absolutley loved it and I want to start traveling more. We are staying at the Hard Rock Hotel which is right in the middle of EVERYTHING apparently or so the website stated. I have been making lists of attractions that I want to see so if anyone has any input don't hesitate to tell me. This is my first trip to Chi-town and I am pumped.

I just realized that this blog is basically about nothing but I suddenly have the urge to blog everyday. It may have become an addiction.

OH!!!! So yesterday, I go into Walgreens to get cigs (no comments) and the woman behind the register looks completely put out with my existance and me disturbing her 'US Weekly' reading time but this conversation was very interesting:

Walgreens Lady: (looking totally irritated) 'Can I help you?

Me: I need a pack of Marlboro lights in a box.

WL: A what?

Me: Marlboro Lights in a hard pack

WL: (suddenly brightening up like she has stock in Philip Morris) OH OKAY, how are you today?

Me: Fine, ready to go home.

WL: Oh you are at work? What do you do?

Me: I work in an accouting firm.

WL: Oh you don't look like an accountant.

This may have been because I was wearing a BRIGHT pink shirt and my giant Dior sunglasses.

Me: Yup, thats what I do.

WL: (hands me a card) If you ever need a massage, we have great prices.

This card she handed me said 'Maritas Massage' Best Hands in Uptown. Puzzling . I collect my cigs, credit card and begin to wonder what it was that she is trying to sell me.

In Dallas, we have lots of 'massage therapists' but these are not your regular massage therapists, in a word, they are hoes. The advertise in the newspaper. I mean seriously. They get away with it because they call it a 'professional massage' but it always ends in a different way than the massages that I have had ended. Freaky. Maybe I should get a massage this weekend

A Fall Back

I know to the few blog readers that I have, this might be a challenge but connect with what you can. You all remember that love. The one that was so great that sometimes you couldn't remember how you ever did without it. About a month ago, my boyfriend and I broke up. We had a wonderful story. We met in college through a mutual friend. I remember the first time that I saw him. He stood in the open door and looked so......perfect. I couldn't take my eyes off of him all night and apparently the feeling was somewhat mutual. We couldn't be together at the time because I was still in the closet, Vice President of my fraternity and too proud to admit to myself or anyone else for that matter, whom I really was. I was my own worst enemy. On paper, my life was what a lot of people wished for but, for me, it was hard. It was hard to live the life that my southern family wanted me to be or what I felt they wanted me to be.

What I kept coming back to was that never ending feeling that sneaked its way into my heart almost everyday. I would get up and go to class and hope to see him on campus. I never did. He moved away shortly after we met and I talked to him a couple of times and it was ALWAYS there. That nervous stomach, sweaty palms, and that frustrating wall that blocked the words and the emotions that you wanted so desperatley to express but never could. I moved on, as did he, but I never forgot, because I don't think that we ever do.

Three years almost to the date, I got an unexpected email. It was from him. He had, somehow, tracked me down and was anxious to see me. I was nervous all over again and my stomach could have qualified for the gymnastics. All of those old feelings came flooding back.

We spent a wonderful nine months together, he had the one quality in a man that is so precious. He made me laugh. A wonderful honest to god heart shaking laugh. His arms were always like a warm blanket when they wrapped around me. Safety, security, and the mind numbing love that goes along with being with a person that you are so incredibly in love with, that you would cross the world or an ocean to get to.

It ended well, we were in two different places at two different times, once again. It was a mutual decision to walk away. I didn't eat for a week. I smoked a carton of cigarettes and drank a vineyard of wine. I do well for the most part, the days come and go without fail. But when I am at home alone, snuggled into my bed, I wish for that smell of his cologne or his laundry detergent. Simple things really but so meaningful to me that it can bring this strong, concrete pillar of a man, who has dealt with so much in his short 23 years to tears.

Its a set back in my journey to recovery. I know that this post is somewhat different than the rest. It is not happy, funny or jovial but it expresses the most real and raw emotion that there ever will be, pain.

Why I suck

Okay, I want comments people. Don't be a lurker. I want to know that you are here.

PS Comment here on the car blog because I can't get it to publish with comments. WHICH SUCKS!!!

Car Fanatic Gone NUTS!!!!

In previous blogs, I have made mention of the fact that I am a car FANATIC. I don't really understand WHERE it came from, but as far back as I can remember, I have always loved cars. Driving them, reading about them, looking at them. EXAMPLE: When I was young, my father and I used to go every Saturday and look at cars. Just look, somtimes we would drive them. I remember one in particular Saturday there was a hunter green Mustang convertible at the local Ford dealership and we drove it with the top down. From this, sprouted my love for a convertible.

I also remember riding in my first Mercedes.
It was one of those FABULOUS, JR Ewing style 80s Benz sedans and it was a diesel. You could hear it coming for miles. SO AWESOME. (Sound familiar, Belinda?) That and the TANK, the Mercury Cougar that was as big as my current apartment. I tried to find an exact pic of said TANK like car BUT I didn't know what year it was. I DO remember that it was red and people would get OUT of your way when you were in it.

Anyway, while perusing some of my car publications (Car and Driver, Motor Trend, and Automobile magazine) I found this car.




It is a concept car at the moment but Rolls Royce is seriously considering producing it. GOOD LORD!!!! It is a two door convertible based on the current Phantom body style. A total throwback to the days of the 'Sunset Boulevard' style of GIANT convertible that sucks gas but looks totally fabulous doing it. Estimated cost for this car, $465,000 dollars. Yes, DOLLARS. Needless to say, I will have to go around the corner to my local Rolls Royce/Bentley dealership and drool but not to close.

Beige

Okay, a month after the possible love of my life and I broke up I went on a date. Here is where it gets tricky. Number 1, I did not consider it a date. We have hung out a couple of times before, WAY before, like a year and a half ago and it wasn't all that fun then but I figured that I would give him another chance. At this point in my life, I am looking for ONE thing, friends. I don't need a boyfriend and truly don't really want one. For a variety of reasons. I am not ready. That being the most important one. But my brain needs some distraction every now and then.

He had commented that he was not as technically savy as it apparently takes to hook up the TiVo, DVD, CD, surround sound business that seems to inhabit everyones TV cabinets these days, so I told him that I would hook it up for him, having done this several times before. Last night, he calls and I agree to go over there and hang out and help him hook up said stereo business. This is where it got sort of odd. I show up at 8pm (remember I am old now and MUST be in bed by 1030 at the LATEST) and hear the vacumn running inside his apartment. Keep in mind that one hour ago he told me to come over. Vacumn running, I decide to not knock at this point because he wouldn't hear it. So I stand outside of his apartment, sort of looking like a stalker, albeit a well dressed one, but still a stalker. After about 5 minutes of waiting, vacumn cleaner is turned off and I knock, only to be greeted by apparently MORE vacumning. Again, more waiting and stalker like existance. Finally, I knock and he answers.

Him:

I didn't think that you would get here that fast.

Me:

You told me to be here at 8 (it is now 8:15)

Him: I haven't even showered yet, so sit down, I will be right back.

Luckily, like me he is a car fanatic so I sat down and read the latest Motor Trend for 30 minutes. Which was fine with me because I hadn't read that issue and I like to keep abreast of the latest developments. Finally, he comes out and says, are you hungry, do want to get something to eat. At his point it is almost 9 oclock. I ate at 630. No, I am not hungry. He is, so I agree to go to have a drink while he eats. We go to a Fridays right around the corner and I order a draft beer (I know I am not supposed to be drinking for a week but I could tell this was necessary to get through this evening) as does he along with a Dr. pepper. Strange but whatever. He then informs me that he is a lightweight and can't drink more than two beers without being drunk. Yes. I learned that.

After being there for two hours, (11pm at this point), and he finally finishing the draft beer

Me:

Alright kid, I gotta go home.

Him:

Why?

Me:

I have to be at work at 830 and it is close to midnight, I am not used to staying up this late

So we leave but not before he almost falls down getting out of the booth and turns and hands me his car keys informing me that he was too drunk to drive. Fantastic.

I get us both in the car and back to his apartment. I am ready to bolt at any point. He looks at me, BIG puppy dog eyes

Him:

So you are gonna leave right now (meaning at the current time of 11:35)?

Me:

Yeah

Him: Oh, I thought you might want to stay the night?

WHAT?!?!?!?!?! Are you JOKING? We went to dinner and you got drunk off of ONE draft beer and I am expected to swoon? I think not my friend. I saw that glint in his eye too. He wanted the sex and I was NOT gonna give it up.

Me:

Nah, I gotta get home and plus, I am not ready for that. I just got out of a relationship and I thought that we agreed this was a friendly thing.

Him:

Oh YEAH, right, okay, well.....

So I hug him, thank him for my beer (that did not get me drunk) and get in my car and head home to get immediately in the bed. So, on a Monday night I crawl into bed at close to 12. Pissed. All I can say was that it was beige, he was, I was, the food was, everything was beige.

Damn.

RAZRs, Lesbians, and a Re-do

Um, I need another weekend to recover from the one that I just had. Friday afternoon, Ron (the boss) and I met at J.R.'s for Happy Hour. Evidently, my idea of Happy Hour extends from 5:45 until 2 in the morning. For some reason, I thought it necessary to drink for a total of 8 hours. Thats right 8 hours!!! GROSS!!! I am so disgusting BUT for every action there is an opposite and sometimes painful reaction.

REACTION TIME: 8am Saturday morning. After being asleep for maybe 6 hours, I wake up to the WORST hangover in recorded history. It felt like there were little men in my head mining for coal or something. I also smelled as though someone had drug me feet first through lifes ashtray. My hair, my skin, ewwww. It truly almost make me sick. Unable to return to the most coveted state of slumber, I get up and shower washing off the film of liquor that seems to coat my body. My stomach is NOT a fan of walking, movement or light. Somehow I managed to get all clean, stumble back to the bed and collapse until my alarm went off at 10:30. I had told friends that I would meet them for brunch at 11:30. I regreted this decision as my alarm was squeeling. Another shower, clean clothes, BIG BLACK sunglasses and out the door I went. The food helped and so I came to the office to get some things done. It took about 30 minutes before my bed called.

After a nap and some more greasy food, I started to feel better about myself. I got up dressed and went to Mi Cocina in the West Village.

Let me describe the scene. The West Village is very trendy, shops under overpriced apts and where all of the incredibly good looking 20 somethings of Dallas live, shop, and eat.

We arrive at Mi Cocina and put our name on the list. We are told the wait is 52 minutes. 52? Not 53 or 54 but apparently in 52 minutes the table monitor is going to tell someone that they have to move because there are 3 queens waiting to eat. I was suspicious. We go to the bar and order drinks. 3 drinks=$20+tip. I sort of felt like I had been robbed at gun point. But I drank my drinks and waited for the table, watching the most gorgeous group of people I have ever seen laugh and carry on. Serioiusly, I felt WAY out of place. I am sure that they were all plastic as a ken doll with about as much depth as a mud puddle but DANG they were pretty. Anyway, we eat laugh have some more $20 drinks and then I make my way to meet my friends at Sue Ellens the local mostly lesbian bar.

You will note that all gay bars in Dallas for some reason are name after characters from the soap opera "Dallas". Interesting fact.

I arrive at Sue Ellens, not feeling like being out but I have to be social and I told them that I would meet them out for a drink. So I did. I had a couple and decided to get some fresh air on the patio. I am sitting talking to someone when a woman that I have NEVER seen and/or met comes up to me, straddles me and kisses me on the lips. NO!!! I was like, WTF?? DO NOT EVER DO THAT!!!! This woman did not know me and more importantly I did not know her. I was SHOCKED and grossed completely out.

Sunday was a better day. I ran around with Ron looking for a very specific pair of sunglasses. They were not to be found. After looking through Neiman Marcus, Saks Fifth Avenue, and several other sunglass stores we came to the conclusion that these sunglasses DO NOT EXIST. Fantastic. I went to the Cingular store and changed over from Sprint. Sprint has been stealing my money for years AND I have coveted the Motorola RAZR phone forever. I got it. YEAH!!! I LOVE IT!!!!!

I went to a Superbowl gathering. I didn't watch it. I watched the commercials and played with my new phone. I collapsed exhausted into bed at the whopping 8:45 and feel like crap today. NO DRINKING FOR AT LEAST A WEEK!!! My liver needs it. I need a redo. That is the only conclusion that I can come to.

Tales From the Past 2

Told you I would do it. I know that I should save blogging space for a once a day blog BUT I just remembered this talking to a friend and thought you guys might find it amusing.

Picture it, (Sophia Petrillo again) a bar in Dallas TX. Namely Station 4 with its stainless steel dance floor and its fabulous lights and WALL of speakers. YEAH!!! Thats right. It seriously impedes on your conversation with the shirtless 21 year old crack addicts about glitter as an accessory. Anyway, so a friend and I, are standing next to the dance floor enjoying a cocktail of a Vodka, cran nature and this guy walks up behind us. I pay no attention, after all it is a gay bar and people are everywhere.

SIDEBAR:Seriously this bar has at LEAST a thousand people in it on Saturday night.

So I am standing, enjoying beverage, and listening to the latest Deborah Cox remix when this guy leans in between me and said friend and says and I quote:

Creepy Guy:

"I would pay for that ass."

At this point, he turns and walks away. Former friend and I are shocked. Here is the conversation that ensued

B:

"What did he say?"

Me:

"I THINK, he said that he would pay for your ass!!"

B:

"WHATEVER, he was talking to you"

Me:

YEAH RIGHT, he is SO your type"

B:

(No words, just a look of horror on his face)


You see this particular man, while tall, was dressed in the ever popular and attractive black Nike hoodie, stoned washed jeans and white hightop Nike sneakers. Yes that is right we got hit on by the 1983 version of the Unabomber. This was scary enough but the fact that I told 'B' that he was his type was the catalyst to a bitch fight in the middle of the bar. Very amusing for some, I am sure WAY TOO DRAMATIC for me.

So we can't get it out of our head what this guy says and 'B' is convinced that he was talking about me. He heads over to where the '83 Unabomber is NOW standing and asks;

B:

WHO'S ass would you pay for, his or mine?

Unabomber:

His, pointing at me

Me:

Uh, yeah, I need a drink. OH and by the way, ewwwww.

Did he really think that I was going to drop trou and tell him to cut me a check.

Dallas guys can be so gross.

Concern.....

Tonight was different than any other night. I came home, ate dinner, watched the mind numbiling stupid TV show, "My Very Own...." on MTV and logged on to the net to check my mail and read the goings on of the world.

The first headline I see is this....

Nazi items in home of alleged gay bar attacker

Apparently last night an 18 year old kid walked into a quiet gay bar in New Bedrod, Mass, ordered a rum on the rocks, ewww, and then attacked two guys playing pool in the back of the bar. He didn't just attack them, he attacked them with a hachet, a machette, and shot two people. Three people were injured all of them in the hospital, one in critical condition.

The kid was obviously part of some sort of Nazi regime that is local there just south of Boston. They found pro-Nazi posters and paraphenalia in his room when they searched it. He is yet to be caught.

In the four years that I have been out I have never felt insecure about my being in a gay bar or being in public and being recognized as gay. I guess that I have lived in a very secure and sheltered world. One in which these kinds of things don't happen, one that the people in that bar lived in until yesterday.

I should have been more concerned before this incident. A bar that I used to frequent when I was in college was set fire to and presumed to be a hate crime. For the life of me I will never be able to understand this type of hatred for gay people or any other minority in this world.

I worry about the future of our country and the world that the gay people of 2030 will have to live in. I hope for the best and think how much more advanced this country will hopefully be by then but then something like this happens and dashes those hopes because for every advance that is made, there will always be an 18 year old kid whose parents don't pay attention to their friends that will do something like this. My thoughts are with those that were injured and their families. I will hope for a speedy recovery.

Long Distance Dating, Guys in Therapy, Anita Baker, and Milli Vanilli

After my weekly visits with my therapist I am always plauged by thoughts. I was thinking about my past relationships and what I have realized which is REALLY strange, I have never dated someone that lived in the same town as me without actually living with them. How nuts is that?!

When Brad and I started dating I lived in Fayetteville and he lived in Little Rock. I moved to Little Rock and we moved in together. When we broke up I didn't really date anyone. Not REALLY date anyone, anyway. So I moved to Dallas, I started dating Michael, who lives in Little Rock. This is all very strange to me for some reason. Dating someone who lives in the same town and not living with them is going to be exciting not to mention a TOTALLY new and different experience. I am kind of looking forward to it. Does this mean that the tenacious passenger is finally emerging from the wreckage. I tend to think so.

Two more things, I need opinions. Is it wrong to check out the guy that was waiting in my shrinks office? I am 50/50 on this one. Obviously, he was gay and cute and tall. 3 qualities that I find very endearing in a man. He is in therapy so he is searching for emotional nirvana. Hmmmm, something to think on.

Last but certainly not least, I have a whole new appreciation for both Anita Baker and Milli Vanilli. Po Milli, they were helpless pawns in the cut throat game of industry music making. I have taken to listening to Anita at work and she is relaxing and soothing and has a GREAT voice. What ever happened to her? The same thing that happened to Heavy D and the Boyz? Hmmm. Last night, I could be found in my apartment in my christmas pajama pants which I love listening to "Blame It on The Rain." This is a sad fact but its true and I cannot lie to my internet fam.

So let me hear your views on the scamming on said cute man in the therapist waiting room!!!! Am I sick?

Retraction and Apology

well I would like to print a retraction. Like any good journalist when I am proven wrong I am willing to admit it. In an earlier blog, Oddities and an Introduction I made a mistake by saying that the Toyota 4Runner was the best looking SUV ever, all I have to say is I was wrong and I am sorry. Here is what I meant to say. Happy now, Endora?