I'm a Hottie! (To Children & Losers)

So last month was my concert month, and this month the cosmos are offering up "Love, American Style". I've had two dates in the past two weeks. Both have been in the realm of Hell-to-the-No, but I'm trying to take these as moments I can learn from, and move forward. I suppose I should not give out details in order to protect the innocent....and yet I am compelled to share the burden.

The first "date" was fine, only it was not presented to me in the context of an actual date, because if it had been understood as such there was no way I would have agreed. This guy is so very young that if I had grown up under a different set of circumstances, I could have birthed him myself. (And I'd probably have homemade tattoos, write bad checks, and I would definitely not have all of my original teeth still in my head.) Still and all, it was cute, a flattering gesture, and at least it serves as a good story. These "Cliff's Notes" don't quite do it justice, but it'll do. (Sorry, but one would have to buy me a beer to hear the whole thing.)

The second date was someone my age, a little older -32 to be precise- and he is employed by the same employer as myself. Uhh..well, that may be a bit misleading as this gentleman actually works in a very different capacity than I do, though he too provides a service to the school- service being the opperative word in that sentence. In any event, this gentleman does not own his own a car (strike one), so I had to pick him up. He then proceeded to call me no fewer than 5 (FIVE!) times within the next 3 hours to relay his whereabouts and reconfirm our plans (strike two), and lastly he wore black, tight cut-offs to the restaurant, and a faded t-shirt w/holes in it. (You're outta here, buddy!) I would like to say that it all turned around after those moments, but I would be lying. I was, however, able to wittle down that date to a clean 40 minutes. He was back in his shabby apt, sitting in front of his curiously-stained computer desk before he knew it.

And someday when I look back on all of this and laugh my ass off (probably while at the Wurstfest, with a pitcher of Paulaner in one hand, and some bratwurst in the other), I'll be able to say that I have "played the field"...at the Special Olympics. :-(

In Other News

The dogs are finally gone. When I arrived home on Friday there were no dogs in sight, and they have not returned, and it really is nice to not have those dogs around. I spent about an hour and half cleaning my front yard and pool area. The pool alone is going to cost me upwards of $100 to get back to "pre-stray" condition. They tore up every floating device, there's mud on the bottom, and they also introduced mustard algae into the pool. Clearing up mustard algae is time consuming and expensive, but the alternative is swimming in powdery gunk, so to the pool store I must go.

I doubt that the dogcatcher picked them up b/c I had finally gotten in touch with her and uh….unpleasantries were exchanged. I do not know how they ascertain a citizen is responsible for stray dogs that are not picked up in a timely fashion, but I have received a total of 9 tickets for various animal ordinances, which my Dad was gracious enough to offer his assistance with. Then last night I finally checked my mail (I stopped checking it because the big dogs would jump all over me and dirty whatever I happened to be wearing), and found three envelopes from municipal court, each of which contained about 9-12 summons to pay tickets no later than the 28th of September or a WARRANT WILL BE ISSUED FOR MY ARREST. That's how they said it too-all in caps. By my count I've managed to amass about $2,300 in fines, and that's only because I didn't open the third envelope. So, then there's that. I believe I may officially be on the lam in the near future. Start watching "Cops" and see if I make any cameo appearances.

Best. Weekend. Ever.

Or how I unintentionally became (according to my dad) a concert suck. For some strange reason, the powers that be have decided that my life isn't quite up to par with, say, the life of a pimp-ass rock star, therefore a few occasions to mix it up and have some fun have plopped themselves into my lap. Who am I to get in the way of destiny? Thursday I was told that a friend of a friend had two extra tickets to Sunday's ACL festival, wherein the Flaming Lips and Tom Petty were to perform, and I was asked if I could join in on the fun. So a sitter was arranged for my perrito, and the overnighter to Austin was planned. Friday I received a call from a former work-study student who really wanted to see The Shins in Austin at Stubbs, but didn't necessarily want to go alone. The question was posed: if tickets were bought, would I attend, and that question was answered with a resounding "YES". Lastly, about a month ago my cousin had a similar predicament, and though Chris Brown and Neyo are not in the top….oh, 50 concerts I'd want to see, I'm still pretty excited to go because I really love the energy of live entertainment.

The Shins show was really fun. Not only did we meet up with another friend from work, but we were able to stand on this rock on the side of the stage throughout the entire show, which was cool b/c I could see about 4 feet above everyone. I'm glad it wasn't too melancholy; the Shins really rocked the house, and I enjoyed the company.

Saturday I waited around for my new roomie to get her stuff in. She's a senior at the local university, is very involved in softball, and seems like she's a nice girl. After she got her stuff in, her mom and dad took me and a couple of her friends to eat Chinese food, and we all got along very well. That night I went to hang out w/my Dad because I hadn't seen him all week. We ended up eating some fish he had caught at the coast and had smoked. Then we trekked to New Braunfels to watch the late showing of Little Miss Sunshine, which is a very good movie and NOT a chick flick.

Sunday morning I woke up early, packed, made a breakfast casserole, and drove to Austin to meet up with Katie and Katie's friend Davey (the guy who gave us the tickets). ACL rocked. Most of the time the lines weren't heinously long, and besides getting rained on, sunburned, and sore calves (pretty much in that order) I am definitely better for the experience. It would have been cool to see a lot more bands, but when you're serious about getting a good spot to view a band you really want to see, you have to sacrifice and just camp out early until your pick comes on. This is when Katie graciously accommodated me and missed her opportunity to see Ben Harper in order to fulfill my deep desire to see The Flaming Lips, and that's not just wordplay. I soon found out just how excited I was to see them, as I clasped my hands to my chest, jumped up and down with my hands in the air, sang along, and must now ashamedly admit that apparently I'm a "Woo Girl". You know….those dumb bitches who stick their arms straight up and say "whooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" ad nauseum. But I couldn't help it! I was just so excited when I saw Wayne (WAYNE!) and the fake blood, all the confetti, the huge balloon, and the aliens with the santas! How could you not lose your effin' mind at the sight of all that?!?!?!?!

And the road goes on forever and the party never ends! Tonight I'm off to see another friend play an early set at the Triple Crown, Thursday I go to the Chris Brown/Neyo concert in San Antonio, and Friday my cousin Michele and I leave for N. Padre for our weekend in the sun. This is the trip where we are NOT going to get in trouble thereby becoming even more fodder for Thanksgiving conversation, right Michele? :-) While I'm not wholly sure when this fantastic streak of fun will end, I do know that going to bed before 2am is on the immediate agenda. How does Paris Hilton do it? (ha ha!)

Mustard Boob

Dammit! I was eating lunch and I got a huge dollop of mustard right on my top. SUCK! I was just joking to one of the student workers that I felt like a 10 year old by eating hotdogs for lunch (throwing turkey wieners & buns into a ziplock bag is even easier than making a sandwich), and now I look like a stupid 10-yr-old with a huge mustard stain on my shirt.

Allright, so I'm at a crossroad with a "friend" I've known for about 2 years now. She's an ok person, but we never really have a great time together, and she's slutty and not a giving person in general. I could buy (and have bought) her beer all night, but unless I say "Hey, you owe me beer", she would never reciprocate, and I'm just not the kind of person to ever say "Hey, you owe me beer". For the sake of anonymity, let's call her Mooch. I just usually end up getting the fuzzy end of the lollipop when I'm out with Mooch. Plus, she just doesn't "get" my personality. Not to brag, but I'm a fun gal!! Let the beer flow, let the music play, and let the merriment begin! She's more of a let the liquor pour and let me see how many guys I can lure away from their girlfriend type of person. I HATE that!

So anyway, I managed to avoid her calls and messages for the past month or so. Hey, breaking up is hard to do, but this time I was going cold turkey. NO MAS! But then there's my longtime friend, we'll call her Pooch, who is the whole reason I know Mooch to begin with. Pooch is allright. I've known her since high school, and while she's not too much different from Mooch, we've got history there, so I'm not too bothered by it all. So Pooch calls because she just won four tickets to see Kevin Fowler in SA on Friday, and wanted to know if I'd like the join her, another friend, and Mooch. But she tricked me! She nonchalantly called inquiring after my Friday night plans. After I admitted I had no plans, then BAM!, she laid it on me. I can't lie for squat, so here I am. I so badly want to call Pooch and make up some excuse (of course I'd never admit that it's b/c of my disdain for Mooch that I don't want to hang out), but I don't have one! Any ideas?

In other news, the Labor Day weekend was fun. I went out with a former work-study student (I can't help it if I get along with 21 year olds!), then I joined my cousin in SA for a movie. I told her I was going to see Little Miss Sunshine. Apparently, since I had gotten to pick the last movie, it was decided that I couldn't pick the next one (??) and I was informed of this new rule upon arriving to SA. I was also told that she wanted to see Step Off. We compromised and got drunk at a dance club instead. Everybody won!