WTF!

Remember that part in PeeWee's Big Adventure when he gets his little daily fortune and says something like "Do not leave the house today"? I TOTALLY could have used that shit this morning! First, I wake up and feel like I've just stepped into a crime scene; crimson sheets are not a good look. You'd think that since I've been dealing with my period since the age of 12 that these kinds of things would have stopped being an issue. Yeah, you would think.... So I go to the bathroom all bleary-eyed and grossed out and promptly bang my elbow on the toilet paper dispenser. Good morning, Sunshine! I get into the shower, which is not factored into my normal morning chores, so I do start to run a little late, and while reenacting shots from the shower scene in the movie Psycho, I slip and almost lose my shit all together. I didn't "fall down, go boom", but I'd say that in the past 500 or so showers, I have slipped approximately ONE TIME, and that time was this morning.

I get ready, make coffee and realize that while I loaded up the dishwasher and stuck the soap tablet in last night, I neglected to TURN THE KNOB that makes the dishwasher actually clean dishes. I attempt to fish out a dirty coffee mug so that I can wash it, but discover the spaghetti sauce from the surrounding dishes has somehow coated the cup, and with the kind of morning I'm having I decide not to risk washing it by hand. After all, I am wearing white today. So I had to use a clean coffee mug that doesn't have a top to it. I used the 'spensive, sticky cellophane stuff to "seal" the top of the cup b/c I'm just resourceful like that.

Down the stairs I tromp, dog in tow, lunch and coffee in hand. I feed the cats outside, as I do every morning, but this morning the cat decided she wanted to COME INSIDE?!?!?!? The outdoor cat who has not been inside my home for more than 3 minutes in the past 3 years that I've lived there? I freak out and try to shut the door in front of her, half afraid I'm going to shut the door on her, and in the process I spill coffee on my white blouse. Yea Friday morning!
I drive to work, no major problems, get out of my car in the parking lot, lock the doors and swing it not quite shut. DAMMIT! I dig out my keys again, unlock the door, swing it really hard (take that, car!) which does shut the door, but also shakes the car enough to dump my cup of coffee, that I place on the roof of my car every morning while I'm getting out and situated, all over the windshield and hood of my car. With tiny splashes connecting again with my white blouse, of course. OH GOD, CAN I JUST GO BACK HOME AND GET BACK INTO BED NOW?! Oh yeah, I've got Freddy Krueger Bed back home to deal with, so I guess there's nothing left to do but go inside.

And so I do. I calmly sit at my desk, log into my computer, and proceed to collect my thoughts enough to WILL myself into positive headspace. Hey, I never wanted to be some coffee addict anyway, and who couldn't use more water in their diet, right? Half an hour later, I have to pee (from the water). As I am walking to the bathroom I see a nice young man standing away from the crowded lobby and close to the women's bathroom. I smile at him, nod, and my ankle winks,causing me to FALL DOWN on my hands and knees! I was lucid enough to not cry out "MOTHER OF FUCKING GOD!", but I do manage to say "Oh my goodness!" like an eighty-year-old lady named Hester. Of course, the gentleman asks if I'm OK, I laugh it off and assure him that he can laugh too. But I didn't tell any of those other tools in the crowded lobby that they could laugh!

SERENITY FUCKING NOW!!!! Sigh.... I will sit right here. I will not ingest a single solid or liquid for the rest of the day. I will not use the bathroom. I will not get up from this seat and continue to endanger myself any further. I will find the fucker who made that voodoo doll and make him/her pay. Oh yes, they will pay dearly. I will make it a point to find my sanity some other day because right now crazy is all that is keeping me here at work today.

Ready For My Close-Up

So today was my first interview (of the many I expect to follow), and it went remarkably smoothly. It's actually pretty cool to know that I've matured to the point where I don't get all flustered or intimidated by people who are in a position to hire me. I'm not so sure about accepting the job, if offered, but I'm glad that I did the interview as it was a good opportunity to "sharpen my claws", as it were. I hate to say this b/c I know it sounds pompous, but I felt overqualified for the position I was interviewing for. I mean, it wasn't like the people in the room were not up to my "caliber", but I just felt that while what they do is time consuming, it isn't as cerebral. More like placating and accommodating, and I would not say that those are my strongest traits. Again, it was good to know how much I've grown into my skin, and trusting my capabilities.

Might have a bite on the roommate front, which I definitely have mixed feelings about. On the one hand I'm checking out my bills and thinking "Damn, I could use some help here", and on the other hand I'm chilling in my sports bra and panties after having exercising with the TV blasting over the din the Stairmaster makes, eating cereal and feeling just happy in general to be in my own house, on my own couch, half naked and not using a coaster. Life is good. So yeah, I guess life was too good and the powers that be have decided to send in the clowns. Not really, I cannot complain. I've made my own problems, and I'm actually glad that my life has taken this tack; I like what I do but I'm nowhere near my earning potential, and while I do love my spacious house, I have plenty of space to....to....(gulp) share. Sigh... Anyway, it's a woman from work who was actually just hired as an accountant in our office. Her fiancee had to move to Colorado for a year, for reasons I'm still not entirely clear on, but she's having to commute from Austin and she feels like she's spending too much time on the road, and not saving enough money up for her pending nuptials.

It would be nice to have someone to commute with, especially w/gas prices, but I was thinking a student from the university in town would be an ideal roommate b/c she could hang out here while I'm at work. If it felt more like two ships passing in the night, then I feel it wouldn't be so bad having a roommate because we could give each other space. But having the exact same schedule as the person you live with? Yeah, that really makes me nervous. She's coming over to check the place out tomorrow, so I guess we'll see. Oh, and she has a small dog. I had this crazy thought that if our pets didn't get along, I'd give the whole idea the kibosh. Illogical yes, but at the end of the day, if things don't go well with having her move in, or not having her move in, it sure would be nice to have my dog to blame it on. :-)

Kiss Me Deadly...and Virus-Free

I've been thinking lately that I haven't kissed many men. The reasons are varied and would expose too many of my neurosis, but I will say that I have had an borderline phobia of cold sores (Lets just cut the crap and call it by its name: ORAL HERPES), and in every movie I've ever seen when the guy/girl is closing in on that first kiss, and you sense that palpable energy where they are just about to make that turn from philia to eros, there is always one phrase my brain starts screaming: DONT DO IT! What you have now is beautiful, dont fuck it up by falling in love! Um...didn't I say I wasn't going to lay out my issues here? Anyway, here's the list (first names only, to protect their honor):

-Secilio-7 minutes in heaven. Very sloppy. Later found out he kissed every single girl at that party. I was in the 8th grade.
-Sammy-This too was a wet one. I didn't like him as much as he liked me, but yes, I have rocked the jungle fever
-Tamara's husband-This was my Red Dog night in college, which is one reason that I cannot remember this man's name. Also the reason I did not resume drinking until I turned 21. Yes, he was married, but they had an open relationship (the joke was that they had more appliances in their bedroom than in their kitchen), and honestly I was but a freshmen in college, new to drinking, and I did get taken advantage of in the sense that he should have known better b/c I was very wasted. But I can totally say that I've done the whole frantic, slammed up against a bathroom wall make-out! J
-DJ-Lost my virginity to him at the age of 20 b/c I no longer wanted the burden of carrying around that cherry. Sometimes I truly wonder how many phantoms of broken hymen are floating around Moore Hall. (Hey, that's a cool name for a band!) After that interlude I was celibate until the age of 25.
-Eric- A really good friend who taught me so many lessons, including how to show affection. Will always be my favorite, even though (and probably especially because), I treated him like shit because I could. One of the two men in the world (besides family) that I can honestly say I still love.
-Juan D- I don't actually remember this one, but I must have kissed him because I know that he was the first man I let touch it. He smelled his fingers afterwards and gave me some sort of compliment. The memory still creeps me out, and it was my first, and last, fingering. (Blecchhh!, Even that word is just nasty!)
-Tomas- Dated him for about 5 weeks when I was 22, and it was only at the age of 29 when I suddenly realized he never left his ex; I was his sancha, and thats why he just stopped calling. See, I'm like an inverted idiot savant! How I can be mentally sharp in most respects and outward appearances, yet completely moronic in relationships is just my burden to bear.
-Cody- This was the kiss. In another state, sitting in my pink bridesmaids dress, buzzing off Coors light, just having met him 5 hrs prior, dancing the night away, and getting kissed by the hotel pool. It was like the ending of pretty in pink, except this guy turned out to be no Jake Ryan. And thats all I have to say about the war in Vietnam.
-Shawn- My first real boyfriend. My first real sexual partner. My first real inclination that when it comes down to your head and heart, your head doesn't stand a chance. When I met him I thought he'd make a good 1st boyfriend, but he just wasn't "the one". 5 years later I find out he's banging a 19 old server at the Pizza Hut he manages. Did I mention I fell in love w/him b/c he was such a classy guy?
-Rich- Post break-up snogging w/some guy I met at a club. Hey, at the age of 30 it was about damn time I did some shit like that!
-Juan V- Match.com. Nice, intelligent, funny, cute, but somehow just not the guy for me. I still fantasize about his hands and his tummy though. They were practically perfect, and yes, I am one of those nutty women that goes wild about mens big, strong, sexy hands (Rowrrr!)
-Mario- Match.com. Got along famously on the phone. In person was a different story. This was a "meh-what-the-hell?" kiss. I think in the back of my mind I was hoping it might turn that frog into the prince I had been conversing with all along. First guy I've ever kissed with a moustache. Crossing my fingers that it will be my last.

And now I'm on hiatus. Kissing those last 3 within a 3 month span of time makes me realize that at this rate I'm just playing Russian roulette to the big O.H., as in OH, now I have to deal with huge crusty, scabby sores on my mouth for the rest of my life! Hells to the no, ya'll.

UPDATE!
-Carlos- Sergeant for a boot camp for juvenile delinquents. He was pretty nice, but I wasn't very physically attracted to him. He wore a fanny pack, a stop watch around his neck, and very tinted wrap-around sunglasses. I know, my fashion is hardly "vogue" but he was pretty bad!! Kiss was on V-day 07 after making him dinner & dessert, and giving him a small card. He was actually the best kisser that I can remember (not too wet, didn't try to suck my lips from my face), but there was no spark. Back to the old drawing board...
-Robert- All-around funny guy w/soft brown hair, softer brown eyes, and the softest lips ever. Met him in El Paso at the bar Cincinnati's. Nice smile, intelligent yet playful eyes, and...OMG, HE LOOKED ALOT LIKE JASON BATEMAN! HAHA!! And I thought I was losing my ice queen touch! Whew, mystery solved! ('Cause for Jason Bateman, and now Robert from El Paso, I am but putty for them to mold.) :-) Rowrrr!
-Eric, Part Two- I didn't start the kissing, but I most certainly reciprocated. I'm confused b/c my normal penchant for developing an instant 2 week crush on a guy I've kissed is interfering w/how I really feel about him. What I do know is that I wouldn't ever choose to lose him as a friend, so as long as that stays good, I'm good. Yes, I would like to know why he kissed me (even if the answer is as simple as "too much Shiner"), but he's been around and he'll be around b/c we're friends. That's the most important thing to me.

You Take the Good, You Take the Bad...

Why I Like Being a Woman:

1. Dont Usually Have to Carry Large items, i.e. changing out the water cooler at work
2. Get to paint my nails
3. Wield a certain power over some men
4. Much more likely to receive help from strangers
5. After exercising for about 15 minutes, I smell like ginger snaps (no fooling, sometimes its a little creepy)
6. I feel like a badass when I change out the water cooler at work

Why I Hate Being a Woman:
1. You get paid less to do the same job, and in most instances you have to work harder at your job in general to earn respect just given/assumed by men.
2. If you assert yourself w/out sugar coating then youre labeled a bitch
3. The power you wield over men turns into vulnerability very quickly
4. When you're working outside and get hot, its not socially acceptable to take off your shirt, even though everyone has seen a bra (JC Penny Catalog)
5. Did I mention we get paid less to do the SAME JOB as men? What is up with that?

Forgive Me Father, For My Underwear's Not Pinned

Resigning myself to the inevitable, once again. Naaa, just feeling sorry for myself. Yknow, if I wasn't looking for Mr. Right, just Mr. Right Now, I wouldn't have this problem. I"ve met a few viable dating candidates, but as soon as I see things that are in the iffy behavioral realm, then I'm ready to apply the brakes. I'm starting to feel like Seinfeld or something. Eating peas one at a time "Uhhh, listen...we gotta talk." OK, maybe not that bad, but the stinky moustache? I coulda looked past that one until I got enough leverage to get it gone. But see, thats what I mean! I don't want to change anyone, I just want the ready-made guy who doesn't smell bad, or have dirty toenails, or ask stupid questions, like "So you cook, you're smart, you're pretty...how come no one has married you yet? Whats wrong with you?" "I'm too fucking smart to get tied down by a moronic, insensitive lout such as yourself, I guess. NEXT!"

In other news, none of my underwear fit, which is not as thrilling as one might expect. Sure, its cool to know that I'm losing weight, closer to my goal, and subsequently closer to the healthy me, the person I became after college who wasn't afraid of making stupid mistakes and just went out there to mix it up for the hell of it. I like that chick, and I cant wait to welcome her back! (No, I'm not schizophrenic; I'm still the same woman). It just feels really good to be healthy again, and I'm only a few sizes from being where I was when I met my ex. But at church on Sunday I had a problem of epic proportions as my chones were gently being lulled to the gound by gravity's siren song, and had gotten to the point of being bunched around the top of my thighs, and there is no graceful way out of that one, my friends. After dropping and retrieving the misalette twice, while stealthily attempting to hitch up my drawers while crouched down, I was finally struck with a horrifying thought: I was going to have to walk up to the front of the church to receive communion with the threat of my panties falling around my ankles, OR I was going to have to sit out communion which would mean that those I've grown up with/around in the church would assume that I had committed a mortal sin, therefore was unable to receive communion. I just knew that news of either occurrence would surely get back to my mom, which opened a whole new can of worms in terms of damage control.

Having always been a gambler at heart, up I went. I figured that if anything did happen I would just nonchalantly step out of them so that the scandal would be minimized to those with a direct view, (I think I was inadvertently channeling a bad Mentos commercial-"The Freshmaker!", but I was much too frightened to think clearly at the time). I'm sure I looked like some kind of zombie, speed-walker the way I was shambling up to the front so as not to arouse suspicions, and I did have the good sense to pick up my keys so that I could pass Go, collect my $200 dollars (dipped into the holy water and crossed myself on my way out), went straight to my car, drove to Wal Mart and bought 3 packages of newly-sized underwear. WHEW! I was practically still choking on the eucharist while in the check-out line. Nothing keeps your ego in check like the threat of major public humiliation, so I'm filing this one under humbling experience #587 in FY06.

Turkey and Lurkey

Ate Mexican hotdogs last night. You know the kind, where you put a frank diagonally on a piece of bread, fold and viola! I've had the strangest craving for hotdogs lately (no Freudian allusions, please), and while shopping for my frank of choice (Hebrew Kosher or Oscar Meyer), I was struck with two newfound revelations:
1. Hotdogs pack a whole lotta fat grams into that innocuous looking single serving
2. It somehow feels less disturbing to purchase turkey dogs instead of normal beef/pork dogs, as if it is better to eat turkey ass than pig ass.

Mmmmmm, turkey ass.....agggghhhhhhhh

A friend and I were discussing myspace and weve come to the conclusion that we really can't call ourselves myspacers because we don't really use it in the traditional sense of networking and meeting people. We feel were more myspace lurkers because we purposely set this up so that those who may be curious to find us on myspace would not be able to do so. Why sign up, you ask? Consensus is that we only log on so that we can search/check out other peoples myspace pages, thus effectively being nosy and finding out inane details about people from our past, yet not having to share that information ourselves.

This weekend should be relatively uneventful, which is a good thing. I was supposed to go to a pool party in Austin, but I found out its actually in Pflugerville, which is a solid hour and half from my house. I just can't see myself burning up all that gas just to sip a margarita that I have to bring myself (its BYOB), then cart my tipsy behind back home. I feel bad about backing out because I typically make it a point to do that which I have agreed to do, but this time it just isnt practical. Aww geez, I sound like my mother! "[going to that party] just isn't practical." Damn, I'm freakin OLD.

To Meet, or Not To Meet...

It recently dawned on me that of all those listed under "Person I'd Like Most to Meet", there are no females, which was completely unintnentional, rather relative to the kind of mood I was in when I answered the question. This weekend I watched Hope Floats and realized that it would be pretty cool to chill w/Sandra Bullock. I really enjoy the roles shes decided to take, and although Im mainly speaking of the dippy chick flick bs, I must admit that Ive enjoyed them thoroughly, especially 28 Days and While You Were Sleeping, in addition to the afore mentioned, Hope Floats.

I mostly appreciate the theme of the normal, smart, funny, not hideous single woman who just hasnt quite figured her stuff out yet. Although she is hard on herself, from the outside you see that shes got more of it together than she gives herself credit for. And it doesnt take a psychiatrist to figure out why I have such an affinity for those types of movies. But its not just that because in the articles Ive read about her, she seems like a read stand-up lady with her feet firmly planted on the ground. Thats really the only criteria on which I based the list: does someone seem interesting and intelligent enough that I would want to share a couple of hours with them? Not the requisite "Ohhh, if I only had two hours alone with that hottie...."

Now that I really thinking about it, thats also what I focus on in real life when meeting new people. (A tad telling that I do not have many acquaintances, and even fewer close friends.) Ha ha! But when meeting celebrities, Ive always hoped that Im not the type to get all giddy, or wide-eyed, or even worse, snooty. Honestly I dont know how Id react because Ive never actually met a celebrity. There was one incident when I was at the Warped Tour a few years ago and the lead singer of Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Dicky Barrett, was waiting by a booth specifically to meet his fans. Being in San Antonio where metal, tejano, and country are more the standard (ska-punk, not so much), there wasnt really anyone there.

My ex was encouraging me to go up and speak with him, but I just had nothing to say to him. He wasnt really someone I wanted to meet in that way. I mean, I could have done the requisite "I love your music", but that felt trite, and quite honestly what I really wanted to say was something along the lines of "I want to hear you say my name in my ear with your hard, gravelly voice, and feel what its like to press myself against your broad chest while putting my arms around your ample middle so that I can fully enjoy the juxtaposition between male softness and strength that I crave" (I do love the tummies), but I'm not convinced that my ex would have appreciated that. And so I never did, even though I could see that Dicky had noticed my struggle and was looking at me in a "Hey, come see me baby, how bad could I be?" way.

Its difficult to say whether or not I regret it. It was once said that the only thing you ever truly regret are not the things youve failed at, but the things which you have not tried. Eh. Though I am unsure of what that encounter would have yielded, I can still jam to the MMB, and when I'm alone and feeling frisky, I still have that Dicky fantasy to keep me company. (Rowrrr) :-)

Gold Digger? I've Got My Own Gold, Thank you!

Potential catastrophe averted on the youngin front, but now my sights have turned to someone my age that I have been talking to. I've been (was) rockin' match.com for a while, and I'm still corresponding to one of the first guys I met. He's always been my favorite, and I suspect this is because we are very much alike. (Hey, I like me!) But my problem, besides the my ever-present fear of commitment b/c I dont want to mess anything up, is that he's financially secure, and I have reason to believe that hes leery of so-called gold diggers.

This doesn't concern me much because I've always felt that anything worth having is worth working for. As a matter of fact, women who are into seeking men for the sole purpose of support offend me. While I'm not looking for provider, I'm also not looking to become someones sugar momma either. My ex did not have a degree, but he wasn't lazy or stupid, so he made good for himself, and thats all I'd ever ask. These aren't really problems per se, it's just that Im a very blunt person, so when the realization struck me, my first inclination is to set it straight. Then it occurred to me that that in and of itself may make my intentions seem less than genuine, and so there it sits.

I just wish I was better at this kind of stuff. I'm really good at the pals thing, but when it gets close to going past that point I turn into a social retard. It's not like I'm aching to be more than pals, or even that the option is out there, but I would hate to think that my intentions would be misconstrued. I've got my shortfalls, but wanting what other people have is not one of them. Whatever I dont have I must not want; I have never looked to anyone to provide for me. I couldnt even cheat in school because I've always felt that my wrong answers are better than taking someone elses. My life isn't perfect, but its mine, and anything lacking in my life can only be changed by yours truly. I feel, to a fault, that at the end of the day, the only person you can truly rely on is yourself, so the notion that I would pin my needs on another person is diametrically opposed to who/what I am. Now, how to convey this without seeming goody-goody, insincere, offended, preachy, too serious, pedantic, or just downright wacky? I have no idea, and so there it sits.

On a lighter note, I'm having my cousin and her bf over for a tiny shindig at my house to celebrate the 4th of July. I'm looking forward to some beer, brisket, and some good girl gab. She actually called me last night and I conveyed the information above. Her sage advice was the following: "You're so not like that, that you just need to be yourself and he'll get you or he wont." I love knowing someone who thinks just like me, but has the objectivity of someone not mired in my world. AND she loves beer too! (Yes, we are dangerous together, but that's half the fun.)