...So this one time...

Sweet Lexxi

2010-10-27T13:34:00.004-04:00

Dear Lexxi,

I remember when my mother and I drove 3 hours to the pet store in hopes of adopting you. I told the adoption lady that I wanted you, and when you arrived, she handed me your leash. You were so skinny and bedraggled. Your hind end had been shaved off and you were in dire need of bath. But I fell in love with you anyway. You slept on my lap all the way back home. You didn't even flinch when I put you in the tub and shampooed you all over. That night, and many that followed, you slept in my bed snuggled next to me. I learned that you had quite the affinity for tennis balls. I also learned to keep food off the coffee table after you devoured a candy dish full of Hershey Kisses (foil and all), and I thought you might die from a chocolate overdose. My mom was so in love with you, too. She even got a puppy of your breed much to my dad's dismay. When I moved back to my parent's house, you and Lilly became sisters. Years later, when I moved back out, my mom wouldn't let me take you. I agreed since you and Lilly were so close. Still, I saw you often and you enjoyed your visits to see Rhett, my boyfriend's dog. I never knew your exact age since the vet estimated when I adopted you, but over the last few years, I knew you were entering your senior years. You kept injuring your leg chasing after the tennis ball, and you hated it when we made you stop to let it heal. You were also getting chubby, but I figured the medication for your skin allergies was the cause. Then just last year, you got really sick and my mom took you to the vet. They said you had pancreatitis. That meant we couldn't feed you treats anymore, and you were put on a special diet. You had a few reoccurences, but you always snapped out of it, getting back to your tennis ball obsession. Last week, my mom called. She said you were really sick this time. You couldn't keep anything down, and all you wanted to do was lay outside. She took you to the vet, and this time they said you had developed diabetes. You would require insulin shots twice a day for the remainder of your life. They also said you might have pancreatic cancer because of your big belly, but they couldn't be sure without a $400 x-ray in addition to the $400 in bloodwork and x-rays you already had. My mother and I, together, decided that the best thing would be to end your suffering. That was the hardest decision I have ever made. I hope you went peacefully. I never got to say goodbye, and I hope you understand. I prefer to remember you as I last saw you, pushing the tennis ball around the house, bugging everyone to play with you. I just want you to know that we all miss you terribly and Lilly has been moping around the house. I couldn't have asked for a better, sweeter dog.

The Knot is my new best friend

2010-10-01T14:05:00.004-04:00

It's official. Next year, I will be a September bride back home in the beautiful state of Maine...my favorite time of year! Boo picked our wedding date because of the consecutive numbers. I'm sure you can guess what the date is. Now he has no excuse for forgetting our anniversary.

We're slightly ahead of schedule in planning. I wanted to get a head start because the date will be so popular. We've chosen and reserved the venue in Bar Harbor, Maine. It's right on the water with a spectacular view. We've also reserved the photographer and videographer. We're in the process of trying to find a DJ which is no small feat considering our small-ish budget and the ridiculous rates these people are charging.

I've convinced Boo that we should write our own vows. I don't want a cookie cutter ceremony, and we're not religious, so I think saying it in our words would mean a lot more. Plus, I can guarantee both of us will inject a little humor into "for better or for worse."

Well, It's About Time!

2010-06-29T15:24:00.001-04:00

I am happy to report that Boo and I are finally engaged! He proposed randomly last week while we were on a sunset cruise on the boat. He asked me to get into his toolbox for some pliers and inside was a small box with a note taped to it that read "open me." Once I opened it, Boo was on one knee asking me to marry him. Once I said yes, he brought out a cooler he had been hiding. It was full of champagne, strawberries and a dozen roses. He really outdid himself and I had no idea it was coming.

We have already tentatively set a wedding date for 9/10/11. Yay!!

Things My Boyfriend Does: Part 4

2010-05-06T15:52:00.000-04:00

Normally, my boyfriend acts like any other man...burping, farting, and using sexual innuendos at any given chance. However, give him a lot of booze, and he turns into "Boo-dini," the disappearing homeless man.

First, there was the time we came home from the bar and he passed out under the car. And then there was the time I picked him up from the bar, and after leaving him in the car because he wouldn't get out, I found him lying in the empty lot next door. He has also passed out in the boat, behind the bedroom door, and in the closet. But the reason I'm convinced his alter-ego is a homeless man, is what happened last weekend.

Boo and I attended a late afternoon pool party on Saturday. After a few hours of beer and maragaritas, the crowd thinned out and we decided to leave. Having fell asleep in a hammock, I was exhausted, but Boo and his buddy Pat wanted to soldier on. I dropped them off at a nearby bar and instructed them to call me or get a cab home. After texting Boo to remind him not to stay out all night, I fell asleep.

I woke up at 5:30am and the usual snoring lump was not beside me in bed. Immediately, panic set in. I called Boo's phone only to get his voicemail...seven times. Good lord, he could've been arrested, gotten the shit kicked out of him, or hurt himself in a drunken stupor. At 6:30am, I tried his phone again. He finally picked up on the second call. I yelled, and he apologized in a sleepy, demure voice. He explained that he was not exactly sure how, but he woke up in a bush a few yards from the last bar they visited. He was also missing a shoe. You better believe he walked his ass a mile home, without shoes, to face the wrath of a woman whose other half did not return home as promised. He reeked of booze, was covered in bug bites and his shirt was filthy. I was tempted to give him a dollar and a bottle in a paper sack. He's just lucky I didn't feel well enough to berate him to the fullest extent.

I know. He's precious.

She's Back!

2010-04-15T16:57:00.000-04:00

So I took a little hiatus, obviously. It was mostly due to the fact that I blogged at work and my job was sucking so much that I couldn't. My boss decided to cut my hours down to practically nothing and then closed the doors completely. Thankfully, I jumped right into the same position at another company and couldn't be happier. I love it when things happen for a reason!

Boo and I are still madly in love (cue eye rolls). We've moved from the passion-filled honeymoon phase into the nesting phase. Now I'm not saying the passion is gone, but I'm no longer worried about the state of our relationship, we argue much less, and have seriously started talking about marriage. I still don't have a ring, but in Boo's defense, he's been trying to get rid of a house in central Florida and it's costing him dearly. Plus, we've been making lots of improvements to the house. But if I know him like I think I know him, he's got a plan in the works.

Stay tuned...

Lovin'*

2009-10-07T16:52:00.002-04:00

I love the way my dog's head smells. I love the feeling of lying between the sheets still damp from a hot shower. I love it when I get a scalp massage at the salon. I love the smell of crisp, autumn air. I love the morning commute over the bridge with the sunrise reflecting off the ocean and palms lining the shore. I love a good nap. I love sleeping in even more. I love the way my ass looks in a killer pair of jeans. I love those hard-to-come-by moments when you tear up laughing and you practically pee your pants. I love websites that post cute pictures of animals. I love the smell of gasoline and diesel. I love the scent of cologne lingering in the bathroom. I love cool, crisp nights when I can sleep with the window open. I love days when I can lounge around in pajamas playing video games or watching movies. I love coming home to a clean house. I love the sound of waves crashing against the shore. I love finding random money in my pocket. I love decorating the house for holidays. I love peeling skin and I don't know why. I love cool rain on a warm day. I love getting lost in a good book. I love how this list could go on and on, because there are so many more things I love.

*I challenge you to make your own list or leave a love of yours in the comments. The only catch? You can't include a single person on your list. It'll be tough, I know. But this particular little exercise is about stripping away everyone who defines you and figuring out what YOU love.

As of Late...

2009-07-13T14:48:00.000-04:00

Damn, I have been slacking. It's funny how when life is good, my blog suffers. Not that I am wishing for anything to happen just so I can write about it. Anyway, I'll spare the gory details and give you the short update.

My relationship is great. Our parents have started hounding us about getting married and giving them grandbabies. Boo has started joking about getting me a cubic zirconia ring. And in turn, I started joking about how the ring symbolizes how much he really loves me and is willing to spend on me. That, and my uncanny ability to differentiate CZ from a real diamond, even though I'm not sure I could really tell. Have you seen CZ rings these days? Amazing. I better find a good jeweler and/or appraiser.

I started taking a self-defense class with Boo and a couple of our friends. It's basically a solid hour of high-intensity cardio mixed in with some self-defense technique. I thought the 30-Day Shred was hard. This is a total ass kicking. I've been doing it for about three months now and I am still waking up with sore muscles...muscles I didn't know I had. It is loads of fun though and I'm hoping to tone up a little bit, if not just negate all the beer consumed on the weekends.

Speaking of beer, Boo and I threw our 1st Annual Red, White & Booze party on the 4th of July. We're trying to make it a tradition, so I designed and ordered t-shirts for the occasion. We had a great time with all our friends. It only took us seven hours to float two kegs, and then we had to go get more beer at the store. I just don't understand why I can't lose weight.

For my birthday, Boo bought us a trip to Maine at the end of this month. It's my 10-year high school reunion and I want to show Boo my hometown. I haven't been to visit in a few years, so I am looking forward to it. I also can't wait to wreck some fresh lobsters...the one Maine staple I hated growing up, but love now that I've moved away. Hopefully, Mother Nature gets her act together so it will be nice, sunny weather rather than the cold, rainy weather everyone has been bitching about. And maybe on our tour of Bar Harbor, we can seek out some nice wedding venues! Hehe.

We are also planning a cruise at the end of August. Another couple we know invited us to go on a 4-night cruise, and since I've never been on one, I convinced Boo to go. I need to get my passport renewed since we'll be stopping in Cozumel, and that'll set me back about $100. I also will probably need to stop eating crap and drinking beer so I don't look like a beached whale in my bikini. Damn it.

The end!

Things My Boyfriend Does: Part 3

2009-05-11T14:02:00.002-04:00

Friday night, I went out to dinner with a couple of girlfriends while Boo enjoyed some time with his buddy at a bar close to the house. Around 10pm, my friend Meg and I were headed to my house so she could drop me off. As we rounded a corner, she pointed and asked "Is that Boo?" I took a better a look at a guy running on the side of the road. "Yes...what the hell is he doing?" is all I could reply. We turned around and pulled over in front of him. I stuck my head out the window and yelled his name. He waved and ran right by us. Having an idea where he was headed, we turned around and drove to the bar he had been at. Sure enough, his car was there.

To make a long story short, his buddy left Boo at the bar. Later, he got kicked out for being a dick. No surprise there. He called our friend Anne thinking it was me. She picked him up and gave him a ride home. After sitting at home, he realized he didn't want his car to sit at the bar. So he ran the 1.5 miles to get it. I told him I was upset that he didn't call me first, and that he had planned to drive his car home. He then tried to pick a fight, so I went to bed.

Just another day in the life...

O Hai! Let's pretend!

2009-04-15T09:22:00.003-04:00

Now that Boo and I are creeping up on our two year anniversary, people keep asking when we are getting married. By people, I mean mostly his mom and mine, but an occasional friend or relative will throw it out there as well. To tell you the truth, I'm kinda wondering too. And not in the I-need-to-be-married-by-thirty-or-I-will-turn-into-a-crazy-cat-lady way. I wonder where to get married, and what kind of dress I will wear, and the theme of the reception, and if I should design the invitations myself. So, despite not having a ring on my finger yet, I joined TheKnot.com.

Let me tell you...it's glorious! Thus far, I've probably wasted about ten hours browsing. There's just one problem. When you sign up, they ask for the date and location of your wedding. They obviously haven't catered to hopeful girlfriends yet. That said, I just picked a random date five years from now and I picked Maine knowing I could go back and edit details when the time came (secretly wishing it would be sooner rather than much later!).

Fast forward to yesterday...Boo left me a pile of my mail on the counter. Rifling through it, I saw there was an envelope from a New Hampshire inn. Curious, I opened it first and the first line of the letter said "Congrats on your engagement!" I laughed and ripped it up. The next piece I pulled out was a postcard for a photographer in Maine. It too said "Congrats on your engagement!" This time, instead of laughing, I stared in horror. Oh crap. Boo had to have seen that. I could envision the blood draining from his face realizing that I already have us practically married in my head. So much for dropping hints! I was blatantly rubbing it in his face!

When Boo got home, I had to do some damage control. I mentioned the postcard congratulating us on our engagement. I lightheartedly explained to Boo that my wedding planner "friend" (however imaginary) recommended a website to check out and when I signed up I had to put in a wedding date so I made one up. And now we're engaged on the internet! Hehe. Funny, right!? Please tell me it's funny! All he said was "Oh. I didn't even see it." And that was that. I'm pretty sure he still thinks I'm cuckoo, but that might have more to do with my drunken antics than our fictional engagement.

Write This Down

2009-04-01T14:21:00.002-04:00

Today is a day that will go down in history. My boyfriend brought me flowers. Why is this a big deal you ask? Well, Boo doesn't believe in throwing money away to buy flowers when they die within a few days. His logic is silly because he has no problem pissing money away buying drinks for everyone at the bar. In any event, he would rather display his affection in other ways, like farting on me, or ramming me from behind when I'm trying to make dinner.

Anyway, they were giving flowers away last night where he was having a business dinner. Although he didn't even have to pay for them, he did think of me and brought me four red roses. I was sleeping by the time he got home last night and he was gone before I was awake this morning, so he left them on the counter for me to find.

Like Mom always said, "It's the thought that counts."

Things My Boyfriend Does: Part 2

2009-03-06T14:02:00.003-05:00

This was my boyfriend last night. But instead of a house, it was his car. And it didn't fall on him, he crawled under it. At 1am.

We went out for Thirsty Thursday and had a few too many pitchers of beer. When we got home, Boo decided to pee in the bushes because apparently the toilet was just too far. I went inside to change and went back out to check on him and his longest pee ever. He was nowhere to be found. I walked behind his car and almost tripped on his feet which were sticking out from underneath it. I grabbed his feet and asked what he was doing under the car. He didn't know. How he got under there, I will never know because it took him a good five minutes to inch his way back out.

This is not unlike the time Boo hid in the dark behind the bedroom door with toothpaste dripping down his chin (drunk, obviously). I couldn't find him for ten minutes until I caught a glimpse of his watch glowing in the dark. When I asked him what he was doing, he didn't know. And then he fell asleep. Standing up.

He's precious.

The Dark Side

2009-02-17T09:33:00.000-05:00

I went to the dark side this weekend. There were no cookies...just me and my inner demons fighting to get out. Of course, alcohol was the catalyst and Boo was the punching bag...

I'm still having trust issues stemming from a couple incidents that occurred well over six months ago. In both cases, in my mind, a line was crossed; in his mind, it wasn't a big deal. I've been stewing over it for months, although Boo and I have discussed it several times. Each time, he's assured me nothing shady went on, and he would never cross the line into being unfaithful. After each discussion, I emerged feeling confident I could move on and let it go. Then Boo would do something as insignificant as coming home late from martial arts class, and I would start stewing again. Logically, I know I am being stupid, but my past tells me that it's possible.

Saturday, our crew went camping for the night. Our group included three couples and three single girls. Boo has always had a penchant for flirting, which only bothers me when he ignores me. I'm not sure what transpired because we had been doing keg stands for an hour, but I got upset with Boo because he was flirting with all the single girls. We went into the tent where we had an hour long, intense argument over my jealousy issues. I cried, he yelled...it wasn't pretty. At one point, Boo almost walked out and walked away from us. He told me there was nothing left for him to say. He has assured me many times that he's not a prick and would never betray me, and I never believe him 100%. At that moment, I knew I was pushing him away and it had to stop. I apologized, and we agreed to let the past be the past, and move forward.

Now the rest is up to me. I've got to push past this black cloud of doubt that I've allowed to hang over our relationship for so long. I can't let past deceptions dictate what will happen in the future. I have to put 100% of my trust in Boo or we will never work. And I'm willing to do what it takes, because what we have is too good to let die.

Couch to 5k?

2009-02-03T11:05:00.003-05:00

With the help of a little peer pressure, I've agreed to run my first 5k. Three of my girl friends are runners and they asked me to join them for the race and a concert afterward. The things is, I'm not a runner. I kind of hate running. I have been working out since vowing to for my New Year's resolution, but I'm nowhere near 5k shape. I could probably eke out a mile without stopping, but we're talking just over three miles. Most runners I know can pound out a mile in or around six minutes. The best mile I ever did was in eight minutes when I was sixteen. If I can keep up a ten minute mile, I might be in decent shape. I think 30 minutes for a 5k sounds reasonable for a beginner, no? I just don't want to be the loser dragging herself over the finish line after an hour.

Things My Boyfriend Does

2009-01-19T14:49:00.003-05:00

I thought it wasn't until after marriage that couples started doing those previously unacceptable things like using the toilet in front of the other, or passing gas loudly, or talking about diarrhea, or anything else relating to bodily functions. Oh, how I was mistaken.

Last night, Boo and I were joking around in bed. I stuck a finger in his mouth and scratched his gums by accident. I teased him and told him he was such a baby. Before I could say another word, his hand came up to touch my face and I shrieked. The stench that filled my nose was so unbearable that my eyes teared up. Yes folks, my sexy boyfriend did the ol' "cup and release." I'm still kind of horrified and I'm not sure what kind of retaliation is in order, but there is one in the works. I mean, short of whacking him in the face with a bloody tampon, how does a girl get her boyfriend back after he basically farted in her face? Talk amongst yourselves.

Three's a Crowd?

2009-01-16T13:32:00.005-05:00

Is having a threesome an ivory-tower dream that all men have? I don't get it. I mean, if it happened to me, it might be kind of cool, but I don't wish for it with stars in my eyes. Boo has participated in a threesome before, and he STILL wistfully comments about having one (or several). Sure, I've had fantasies about some serious DP, but probably not enough to want to go through with it. I just think threesomes are overrated. Three people trying to get it on together makes things confusing. Then again, I've never actually participated in one, so maybe I don't know what I am missing?

2008...See ya latah, deah!

2008-12-31T15:15:00.000-05:00

Normally at this time I would provide you with a summation of my life in 2008. However, I think twelve paragraphs describing my evolving relationship with Boo would bore you to tears. (If you really are interested, archive it up!)

So here we are on the last day of 2009. Looking back, I've made some progress with some things and regressed with others. I finally put my college degree to use, but still haven't found a job that pays a salary close to that of a graphic designer. I've managed to find a decent guy whom I can tolerate and who can tolerate me. However, after dating for a year, I've gotten a little too comfortable and the weight is creeping on. Good news: my clothes still fit. Bad news: my chins are multiplying at an alarming rate. Hello New Year's resolution! Let's see if I can stick to it for longer than a month this time.

As always, I think the new year holds a lot of promise. My best friend is having a baby girl and probably getting married shortly after. Three couples Boo and I often hang out with are also expecting in the first few months of the year, and I'm hoping their nesting rubs off a little. I'm not saying I want to start popping babies out, but settling down before 30 would be nice. Furthermore, while we were visiting for Christmas, Boo's father told him privately that I'm a keeper. Let's hope he heeds the advice. I know both our mothers are chomping at the bit about an engagement.

Boo's father has also taken quite an interest in the fact that I'm from Maine. He can't get enough of the Downeast Maine accent (yessuh, Bub!) and is ready to take a trip to experience it firsthand. Lucky for him, my ten year high school reunion is this summer, so we may have a family trip in the works.

I'm feelin' pretty good about the year to come; loads more than I was at this time last year. There is a lot to look forward to and a lot to work toward. Here's to stayin' classy in the new year!

Anatomy of a Fight

2008-12-03T13:25:00.000-05:00

This is almost a monthly occurrence and usually after we've had a bit to drink...

Step 1:
Boo breaks me down by purposely ignoring me or saying something that he knows will get to me.
Step 2:
I confront him about his behavior.
Step 3:
He makes me feel like the confrontation is not justified all while continuing to push my buttons.
Step 4:
I get upset and usually cry.
Step 5:
He realized he's making me upset AGAIN and feels bad.
Step 6:
I cry some more.
Step 7:
He apologizes. He questions his integrity and my ability to put up with him.
Step 8:
I keep crying because he's so oblivious to the fact that I love him so much and that's why I continue to put up with him.
Step 9:
He questions my feelings for him because I'm often closed off emotionally.
Step 10:
I tell him that he is a total pain in the ass, but I love him. For that reason, I put up with the crap he delivers, but not without warning that if persistently strained, the dam will break.

Neither of us are angry drunks, but our respective demons come out to play after hitting the bottle. The thing is, if I don't engage, he gets bored and stops trying to push buttons. That's it. But I can never just cease and desist. My inner masochist won't let me. So here we are, conflicted when we drink and congenial when we're sober. Yin and yang. Mars and Venus.

To the winch, wench!

2008-11-12T10:24:00.003-05:00

If my boyfriend wasn't so damn funny, I think he would drive me insane.

The other night, as Boo and I were lying in bed, we started joking with each other as we often do before bed. We share a love for movies from the 80s, so Boo started doing impressions of characters from the Neverending Story, from start to finish. Boo is an excellent impressionist, and he had me in tears as he flawlessly mimicked Morla, the turtle who sneezes; Atreyu; and the whiny kid, Bastian. By the time he shouted out "MOONCHILD!" my sides hurts from laughing. I love that!

Yeah, he can do a pretty mean Pee-wee Herman, too.

Update

2008-10-31T14:49:00.002-04:00

I figured I would try to squeeze in at least one post before October is gone. I was just talking to Boo about how I never blog anymore because I don't have anything I deem "blogworthy." He offered to act like a douchebag so I could write about something, but I declined.

Speaking of douchebags, we went to Oktoberfest last weekend and met up with some friends. A girl that is a friend of a friend was there and the only other time I met her, she acted like a complete douche. Actually, I think douche is too considerate. She was hitting on my boyfriend, and that makes her a c*nt. Well, this time was no different. Only she wasn't all over MY boyfriend, she was all over our friend Les, who is married with a baby on the way (his wife was away). After watching her throw herself all over Les and paw a little at Boo, I walked over and looked her in the eye. I calmly told her not to touch my boyfriend, and informed her that Les was married with a baby on the way. You know what she said? She said "I know." Visions of my fist landing square on her nose taunted me, but despite the liquid courage, I gave her a deserving glare and walked away. And that slampig still offered to give Les a blowjob and told him his wife didn't need to know. Trolls like that make the rest of us classy females look bad.

In other news, I've officially moved in with Boo. I have closet space AND drawer space! He's even letting me pick out new bedroom furniture next month. My parents and I were invited to Thanksgiving dinner at his house with his family. Can you say circus? Both our parents like the sauce and it should get very interesting. I'm still very much looking forward to it.

Oh, and Happy Halloween! We're going downtown to a huge block party with some friends. Boo and I are going as Jessica and Roger Rabbit. His costume is hilarious, while I will be checking for nip slips all night. Fun times!

Is it too much to ask?

2008-09-25T08:17:00.003-04:00

Do you know how bad it sucks that my sex drive is infinitely higher than my boyfriend's? What's wrong with this picture?

Me: Hey, let's go have sex in the shower. (less mess when Aunt Flo is around)
Him: Now!?
Me: No, tomorrow. Yes, now!
Him: Um, ok. (doesn't move)
Me: ??
Him: (continues watching TV)
Me: (gets up and takes a shower...alone)
Him: Are you all clean now?
Me: ...
Him: What's wrong?
Me: You don't wanna have sex with me!
Him: I'm all comfy on the couch! I don't wanna go in the shower!
Me: Whatever. (storms off to sleep in the guest room)

Zack Morris is my homeboy!

2008-09-12T13:29:00.005-04:00

Overheard in the car

Boo: Do you remember that episode of "Saved by the Bell" where Mr. Belding tells Screech he can't elope and Screech said "who you calling cantaloupe, you melonhead?"
Me: You DID NOT just reference a "Saved by the Bell" episode.
Boo: I did.
Me: As a grown man, you should never do that around anyone but me.

Overheard at the bar

Boo: I knew that guy in this Cialis commercial looked familiar! It's Zack Morris's dad!
Me: What else from that show do you have memorized? Wait, you don't know the Screech and Lisa dance do you?
Boo: The one where she had a broken foot?
Me: Oh my God...
Boo: Nope.

Cohabitation Conundrum

2008-08-05T15:58:00.001-04:00

All is calm on the homefront. No tales of woe to tell. Boo took me to St. Augustine for my birthday last month. We had a spectacular weekend taking in the sights and history of the oldest city in the nation. It was definitely a much needed mini-vacation not only personally, but for our relationship, too.

Since our trip, things between us have never been better. Now, I'm just waiting for the go ahead to move in. Living out of bags and lugging them between his house and mine is starting to wear on me. I mean, if you heard some of our conversations, you would already assume we were living in sin...

"Biatch, have you seen my belt?"
"It's in the closet, hanging, where it should be."

"Boo, what the hell did you put on this floor? I almost ate it just now."
"I don't know, I bought some cleaning shit, diluted it half and half in a spray bottle and buffed the floor."
(after discovering it was Murphy's Oil Soap) "HAHA! You are supposed to dilute that in like a gallon of water, not a spray bottle! The floor is a film of soap!"

"If you're cooking breakfast, I'll do the dishes." Thirty minutes later (prying himself from the Xbox). "I said I would do the dishes!"
"I don't want them just sitting here, so I'll do them."

"Boo, I hope you don't mind, but I hung a few shirts in the closet."
"Nope, it's only gonna get worse. And I mean that in a good way."

The thing is, we don't fight nearly enough and we screw too much to be living together. What would people think!?

Oh Really!?

2008-07-10T15:40:00.003-04:00

It's been a rough couple of weeks regarding my relationship with Boo. There were some incidences that tested my trust for him, and I wasn't sure how to handle it. The worst incidence involved him and his best buddy getting juiced and skinny dipping in his pool...with other girls present. He swore up and down that nothing inappropriate happened; they stripped down, did a few naked cannonballs and that was it. The fact that he even put himself in that situation made me question his commitment to me. I definitely blew up at him about it, and after some apologizing from Boo, I let it go. Still, I couldn't shake the doubt and it bugged me all week.

Last night, we went out with some friends and I kept jokingly rehashing the skinny dipping incident. I could tell Boo was annoyed with how I wouldn't let him forget about it, and I didn't want him to. I wanted him to know how pissed it made me, and it wouldn't be forgetting it anytime soon. When we got home, he let me have it. I apologized for consistently throwing it in his face, and confessed that it had resurfaced the trust issues I had worked so hard to squelch. He reminded me that I wasn't like the douchebags I had dated in the past, and he was a good guy. I teared up as I agreed, but nonetheless, his lack of concern for my feelings hurt me deeply.

From there, we delved into our future together, and he assured me he was in this for the long run. Despite his resistance for the last eleven months, he was ready for a long-term commitment. The last thing he said to me was "I don't know why you've been so patient with me." I turned away and walked into the bedroom so he wouldn't see me cry. I wanted so badly to tell him I haven't jumped ship because I love him, but I couldn't find the words. After I gathered myself, I joined Boo on the couch. Without a word, I curled up next to him, under his arm. He kissed me on the top of my head and squeezed me tight. The simple gesture restored my faith in us.

Later in bed, as we were getting intimate, he blurted it out. "I'm in love with you. There I said it!" I didn't expect it, and I sure as hell wasn't prepared as to what to say. All I could muster was a semi-sarcastic "oh really!?" Seriously. Who says that? The poor guy finally poured his heart out and all I could return was "oh really?" What. A. Loser.

From country club to swamp country

2008-06-24T10:19:00.003-04:00

Q: What do you get when you take two pretty blondes and place them in a backwoods swamp town in the Everglades?

A: A whole bunch of middle age men wishing they didn't have wedding bands, and a whole bunch of old men wishing for a hard on.

The minute we pulled into town in a bright red BMW, parking next to 4x4s and F-250s,we knew we were in for a treat. I'm not sure if it was the full sets of teeth, the lack of baggy t-shirts and jeans, or different elements combined, but we turned that town upside down. In the short time we were there, we received marriage proposals, job offers, airboat ride offers, kisses from drunk girls and free drinks. People were on us like flies on shit. More than once, we received remarks on how beautiful AND intelligent we were, because apparently, that's an uncommon occurrence among women there. I might have had to pick a few jaws off the floor after revealing we were both country girls at heart, hailing from small towns ourselves. It was actually refreshing to mingle with the down-to-earth country folk I was accustomed to. If nothing else, it was a bit of an ego boost after being overlooked among fake tits, fake hair, and fake tans the night before in Naples. And now we've got a few good connections for some serious airboating adventures when our little hearts desire!

I...can't say that.

2008-06-06T08:30:00.002-04:00

I'm 99% sure Boo was going to tell me he loved me last night but chickened out.

We had planned a Thirsty Thursday after I got out of work, but he started early around 1pm. Of course he was three sheets to the wind when he got home, and I was completely irritated because he was acting obnoxious as drunk men usually do. It dawned on me how much I respected my mother for dealing with my father the times he walked in the door with his eyes glazed over. And as my mother had done with my father several times, I informed Boo that he was acting obnoxious and I wasn't too pleased that he fucked up our plans. I proceeded to ignore him until he called me into the bedroom.

Boo pulled me down on to the bed and embraced me. He apologized for being obnoxious and admitted to trying to pick a fight. He had no reasoning for it, but thanked me for brushing it off. I could sense he had more to say, but couldn't get it out. I probed him, but he wouldn't budge. When I turned away from him, he sighed heavily and I could almost hear him thinking.

"It's just...I...I...can't say that," he stammered. I remained silent, and instead turned to kiss him on the cheek. He squeezed me tight and thanked me again for putting up with his shit. Had I not been still a little irritated, I would've told him it was exhausting, but I do it because I love him.

It's official

2008-05-28T10:01:00.005-04:00

I lay there in the dark, woozy from the combination of beer and intense emotional conversation I just had. I rolled over and closed my eyes as "Give A Little Bit" played softly in the background. How appropriate, I thought to myself, as the tears welled up in my eyes. His silhouette appeared in the doorway and I watched him walk to the side of the bed. He knelt down beside me and stroked my head. I tried to keep quiet, but the sobs kept escaping. He slid into bed beside me and comforted me as my tears soaked the pillow.

"I want this, believe me, but I'm not quite ready to give my heart to someone again," he whispered in my ear.

"You can't keep holding back and fearing the worst," I replied softly. "I'm not her, and this a completely different relationship."

"I know. I do consider you my girlfriend. I'm even changing my Facebook status," he mocked. I giggled through the tears, knowing how adolescent he was trying to sound. "But seriously, please be patient with me. I don't want you to go anywhere."

"I've stuck around for this long. This is obviously something I want, and willing to wait for, so I'm not going anywhere," I assured him.

"I do care about you a lot. You may not know how much, but I do. I'm not talking about dropping the L-bomb just yet, but you get the point."

I let him continue on, while I allowed the tears to stop own their own. I listened quietly as he finally opened up to me. I held on to him as he allowed me to see the vulnerable part of him. I finally got past the layers of wit, stubbornness, and caustic remarks, to the layers I had been waiting 11 months for. When all was said and done, he slowly undressed me, and made love to me. Although he may not be ready to say it, I could feel it in our intensity, in the tenderness, and in the tears I didn't hold back. I can't say that I've ever cried during sex, but those tears washed away the uncertainty and made me realize I am, without a doubt, in love with Boo.

And this morning, I logged on to Facebook to find a request to confirm that Boo and I were indeed in a relationship. I guess he wasn't kidding!

I miss...

2008-05-07T16:11:00.002-04:00

Boo left for training in Memphis yesterday. Here are snippets of our typical text conversations.

Boo: I'm getting on the plane...I miss your ear hair.

Me: I miss your ass freckles.

Boo: They are ass-ne!

Me: I'd like to think they are ass freckles, ok?

Boo: They are from a distance. Kisses!

.......................

Me: I miss your taint.

Boo: I miss your tongue on my taint.

Boo: I'm beet red.

Me: That only happens when I am jacked up on booze and hungry.

Boo: Remind me to only give you booze at dinner on Friday.

How can I not fall for him, right?

Update

2008-05-06T15:25:00.002-04:00

Boo and I did christen the boat. At sunset. It was pretty hot, except there were still boats within sight and we kept giggling about it. And on Saturday, Boo was all about a BJ...as in boat job. He wouldn't give it up, so as we made our way back home, all hands (and lips) were on [his] deck. We've also "tried out" the pool and the shower in the guest bathroom (the master's is waaaay too small). I'm kind of disappointed that it took us this long to get around the house, but now the creative "juices" are flowing.

An Irrational Number

2008-05-05T12:09:00.000-04:00

I am your stereotypical woman in that I overreact. A lot. I hate this about myself because it's something I can't control even when I know I am doing it. I'm usually a balanced individual, but I constantly teeter on the edge of rationality and it doesn't take much to send me over that edge into complete Irrational Bitch mode. For example, last week, I walked into work and the press guys confronted me about a mistake I had made in improperly collating sets of pages. They were just making me aware for the next time, but I took it as an attack and I immediately started fuming. Irrational Bitch was in full effect for the next hour until I cooled off.

More recently, Boo rolled home at 4am on Saturday. We had spent the evening separately as I was seeing friends that were visiting. I was a little miffed that he was out so late, but didn't say anything as I pretended to sleep. When I awoke at 6am, Boo wasn't in bed. I walked out into the living room and he was asleep on the couch. Irrational Bitch took over and I started thinking that he didn't want to sleep in the same bed with me. I kept reminding myself that he was drunk and probably wandered out there unintentionally and passed out. After all, he was naked except for the throw blanket covering his mid-section. Sure enough, around 8am he came back to bed and had no idea why he ended up on the couch.

I'm pretty sure this is just another defense mechanism I've developed to mitigate anger or disappointment (thank you, assholes!). It's funny, though. In my examining and analyzing Boo in our relationship, I've come to realize more about myself and things I should work on. I suppose it's all part of ongoing self-discovery, and I'm glad I'm with someone who can help me improve (knowingly or not), rather than someone who exacerbates my problems.

When he cares enough to send the very best

2008-04-25T18:46:00.000-04:00

Boo left this morning for Tallahassee. It's his sister's graduation from FSU so he flew up there for the night. I'm assuming he was waiting at the airport when he sent me a text message.

"Can't wait to christen the boat!"

He had mentioned a few weeks ago that we hadn't properly "christened" his boat. Considering I have a much higher sex drive than Boo, I thought it was a great idea. We haven't really had a moment alone on the boat since our discussion, so I mentioned it again last night. Apparently, my comment stuck with him through today. I know he was fantasizing about it while waiting at the airport. Love it!

Waiting for the bottom to fall out

2008-04-23T19:48:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure when I became so pessimistic, but in the last few weeks, part of me has been anxiously waiting for that bump in the road that throws everything off-kilter.

Things between Boo and I are really good. I've been staying there Thursday night through Monday morning, rather than just the weekends. We go out boating every weekend. We frequently hang out with his friends that are married. Our sex life is good. I really have no reason to believe things will fall apart, aside from my past experiences with men, but I still can't push that nagging feeling away. I know it's a defense mechanism, and I'm preparing myself for a possible letdown so if it does happen, it won't hurt as bad. It's just annoying that I can't sit back and enjoy the ride without worrying about the outcome.

I know that my doubts would be appeased if I just sat down and had a heart to heart with Boo. However, I have so much to say and so much on my mind that I know I wouldn't be able to properly express my feelings to him because I'm not good with verbal communication in that way. Both Boo and I aren't ones to express our emotions, so whatever things need to be voiced stay silenced. Communication is obviously our biggest obstacle to overcome, and it's a big one. I know life is too short to hold back, I just wish I could convince the wuss within me to grow a pair and say something!

Awww, FREAKOUT!

2008-04-09T12:50:00.000-04:00

This is me patiently killing time on my crappy computer while my good computer does a System Restore. I've been working on the damn thing since I got in at 8am. It's FUCT. And my patience grows smaller and smaller with each job that joins the existing stack on my desk. I can't very well be a designer and design things when my computer won't do a godforsaken thing! That's the great thing about technology, you know? It helps you accomplish tasks faster and more efficiently, yet you spend half the time trying to get it to work properly.

Oh, look! The System Restore is complete. And it hasn't restored a damn thing. Excuse me while I find a wooden bat. I'm going Office Space on this f*cker.

La Cucaracha

2008-04-07T16:03:00.000-04:00

Friday night, Boo and I were getting a little freaky when he shot straight up in bed. All he said was "Oh my GOD. Turn on the light." So I got up and switched the light on. I expected to see a bloody nose or wet sheets. I wish I had. Boo had a cockroach in his hand. Yes. A dirty, squirmy, two-inch long cockroach. I stood there in horror with my hand covering my mouth.

While we were getting freaky, it crawled on to his head. Boo thought I was tickling his head, until he realized where my hands actually were. He grabbed his head and got a handful of cockroach. Bless his heart for staying so calm and not letting me know until I was actually out of the bed. We flushed the bastard, which wouldn't go down until the third or fourth flush. Needless to say, I had a hard time getting back into bed.

Aside from old people and sweltering humidity, I think the bug situation is at the top of the list of Florida's Worst.

Foot Phobia

2008-04-02T14:07:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, my manager gave me free tickets to see The Wedding Singer musical at the local theater. I invited Boo and he invited a couple he knows. Good thing we're fun peeps and make the best out of potentially crappy situations because the play was pretty lame. It was comparable to a really good high school musical, and the only good thing I can say is that the sets were nicely designed. But with some beer and some silliness, we managed to have fun.

I hadn't planned on staying at Boo's, but I wasn't about to drive home at 10pm. I had nothing with me but luckily, I had stopped by Express and bought a new shirt so I had something to wear today. I also made a pit stop on the way home from the play and got some makeup so I didn't look like a zombie at work. While perusing the makeup, Boo came running over waving something in my face. Oh the horror when I realized what it was he was holding. The PedEgg. If you don't know what it is, I don't recommend looking it up if feet bother you like they bother me. In short, it's a cheese grater for your feet. Gross. The infomercial might be the most disturbing and stomach-turning one I've seen. I mean they actually show you the foot "filings." Blargh!

So, Boo proudly paid for his PedEgg and my makeup (awww!) although I protested. He barely made it in the door before he ripped open the packaging and began scraping away with the PedEgg. Boo laughed maniacally as I ran out of the room in disgust. Bless his heart for being comfortable enough to scrape dead skin off his feet in front of me when my aversion to feet is so obvious. I suppose the bright side is that he won't have rough feet anymore.

I drive myself crazy

2008-03-31T19:18:00.000-04:00

Boo called me at lunch just to say hi. That was nice considering I just left his place this morning. I just texted him because I had a couple questions about upcoming plans:

Me: I have an important question! Call me when you get home. Kisses.

Him: I'll go if my schedule allows.

Me: Go where?

Him: Dunno, just thought that's what the question was about.

Me: lol I wanted to know if you were on call Friday.

Him: The response is the same.

WTF? Thanks for the clarification! A simple yes or no would've been sufficient. And what's with the matter-of-fact tone? He's so goddamn frustrating!

On a similar note, Harry and I decided that we should grow some balls (or tits) and confront our counterparts about unresolved issues. Mine being that Boo won't man up about our relationship status, and Harry's being that his girlfriend berates him in public. We made a deal that we need to confront them before the end of April. I've been needing a good kick in the ass to actually do it, although I am still reluctant as ever. But if after 9 months, he still can't call me his girlfriend, then I can't wait around. Maybe it'll be an eye opener for him, or maybe it'll be the end. Either way, the sooner it's done, the better for both of us.

Another kind of green

2008-03-28T16:33:00.000-04:00

Today is Harry's birthday. Last month, he called to inform me he was doing a training session in Tampa on his birthday, and I would be joining him for some birthday debauchery. I couldn't say no since he took me out on my birthday and got me belligerent. So, here I am trying to get all my work done so I can scoot out of here a little early.

I didn't mention anything to Boo about my plans until earlier this week. He told me that he found it odd that I was going up to spend time with Harry all by myself. There was definitely a hint of jealousy there and I think he was implying that I might get down and dirty with Harry. I reminded Boo that I have been friends with Harry (who is just shy of 20 years older than me) for years, and he was closer to a big brother than anything else. I'm not sure if that eased his mind, but a little jealousy never hurt anyone. I just hope he doesn't try to retaliate.

Dance, Magic Dance

2008-03-25T00:13:00.000-04:00

I survived weekend number two with Boo and his parents. Initially, I was dreading it since I didn't seem to get on his mother's good side last time (I don't think she appreciated me staying over in his bed), but it turned out to be a fine time.

Friday night, I had a hot date with my BGF, Bethiekins, and we went to see Shutter. Can you say middle school nightmare? We were joking beforehand about having to fight the wee ones for a place in the theater, and apparently we spoke too soon. The place was filled to the gills with teenyboppers giggling, whispering, opening their cell phones, and running in and out of the theater. Now I know how adults felt when I was that age. How I never got bitchslapped, I'll never know. And the movie wasn't even that great either. Imagine The Grudge with cameras. The end.

Saturday, I got some chores done and lallygagged, waiting as long as possible to go to Boo's. I hate awkward situations, and hanging out with his parents seemed as awkward as I could get. I managed to drag myself to his house late in the afternoon. His dad chatted me up, and his mom was nowhere to be found. I could only assume she was taking an afternoon nap (read: sober up). Later on, after his mom emerged, we decided to take a quick boat ride, as Boo wanted to show his boat off to his parents. Five minutes into the boat ride, his mom finally started talking to me. I started to feel a little at ease, knowing she didn't resent the girl that's sexin' her son, as I previously believed. After the boat came dinner, and after dinner, we rolled ourselves home and wallowed around on the couch.

Sunday morning, we had French toast and mimosas for breakfast while watching Labyrinth (one of my all-time favorites). As Boo was getting out the champagne and juice to make the mimosas, he realized we were down to one bottle of champagne. He immediately yelled to his mom in the other room, who adamantly denied drinking the other bottle. He reminded her of the Thanksgiving where she drank all the rum for the rum cake. I mustered up all I had trying not to laugh when she emerged from the bedroom, glass of champagne in her hand. After breakfast, his mom announced we were having an Easter egg hunt in the backyard. Mimosas in hand, we walked around the backyard picking up little plastic eggs. Boo found most of them. As we finished up, the sun came out, so we hopped on the boat and headed to the river.

Hours later, we returned home, and Boo made me go to 7-11 for macaroni and cheese to go with the ham. Classy, right? We watched Scary Movie 4 and ate our elegant Easter dinner perched around the coffee table. His parents headed out before sunset, and I got a hug from his mother, much to my surprise. After the usual ice cream and massages, we headed to bed early for some much needed "alone time." I slept so soundly cuddled up next to Boo, that I barely stirred when he kissed me goodbye this morning. He even asked me to stay another night, but I declined. I was planning on stopping by this Wednesday after work, so I told him I didn't bring another outfit for work so I couldn't stay.

I am so relieved that the weekend went well. I always get so worked up trying to make a good impression on boyfriends' parents and this time was no different. Although Boo's mom is a bit nutty, and together they put the fun in dysfunction, we all had a great time. I think it took some pressure off Boo, too. I'm pretty sure he gets embarrassed when his mom gets a little loopy and knowing that I could handle it made it easier on him. The hurdles are frequent and high, and we've knocked a few down along the way, but we're getting there!

Muffin tops should be kept to the bakeries

2008-03-19T15:01:00.000-04:00

I've seriously been thinking about starting the Nutrisystem or a similar diet, because 1) I'm getting fat 2) I'm lazy and don't cook well for myself and 3) I spend way too much on lunch during the week. Right now, I spend right around $7 a day on lunch if I don't brown bag it (which is not very often). For around $10 a day, I can go with the Nutrisystem diet and ensure that I am eating to lose weight. I don't have a lot of time to myself during the day, so not having to prepare meals ahead of time would be fantastic. However, after reading some reviews, people say that Nutrisystem is gross and extremely high in sodium.

So, I guess some research is in order to figure out the healthiest, easiest, most cost efficient way to eat my meals during the week. If only the Publix by my office had fresh sushi like the one by my house, I would eat there just about every day. See, if Boo would just smarten up and realize that me staying there seven days a week rather than three is really no different, I would have time to cook lunches and dinners for us both, his house would be much cleaner, AND exercise would be a no-brainer (wink, wink).

And it really makes me wonder...

2008-03-17T17:53:00.000-04:00

Despite the whole wedding disappointment, my weekend was surprisingly good. I wasn't sure if Boo was going to ask me to stay Friday night since he had the wedding obligation on Saturday, but when he called on Thursday night, he said "I hate to assume, but I assume you are coming over tomorrow night, right? Unless you have other plans..." I was both happy and relieved he did make the assumption.

Friday was Steak and BJ Day, the guys' version of Valentine's Day. Boo called me as I was doing a little retail therapy after work to tell me that we were going out with another couple for steak and drinks, and what we did the rest of the night was up to me. I laughed at his implication and told him I was on my way. The night turned out to be a blast. We went to the local piano bar for the dueling piano act they have every weekend. The couple who came out with us left a little early because the husband got too belligerent, so Boo and I walked the mile and a half home. It was funny because I was in heels trying to keep up. In the end, I took them off and we drunkenly jogged/walked home. When I got in the house, I noticed my toe was covered in blood. Apparently, I must have dragged my toe along the pavement and scraped a chunk of skin off the top. It was pretty gross, but amusing all at the same time.

Saturday, we made a spontaneous trip to the sex store. Previously, I had mentioned something to him about getting a vibrating cock ring for shits and giggles, so off we went in search of the sex store. After a recommendation from Barbie, the store clerk, we walked out with a new, pink, rabbit/whale tail/alien-like cock ring. I must admit, I was pretty fired up about it, since sex between us had gotten a little monotonous.

When we returned home, Boo got dressed for the wedding and I took a nap. After he left, I made plans to go visit a guy friend of mine whom I hadn't seen in awhile. I like to keep Boo on his toes, and I knew when he found out, he would be a wee bit jealous. I stayed at my friend's house until Boo called around 10:30pm to tell me he was leaving and everyone was meeting up at the bar. I met up with him and his friend at the bar, and it was rather awkward for me at first. All his friends were there with their dates, and here I come, obviously not having attended the wedding with Boo. I'm not sure what he told them about my absence, but it makes me wonder a bit. However, no one said a word about it, so I didn't either. Eventually, things died down and we went home to try out our new toy.

Sunday, we took Boo's boat out and met up with friends in the river. It was interesting for me to see Boo's interactions with his friends, particularly his guy friends. But I'll go into that another time. We all got a little too much sun and then returned to Boo's for a cookout. As everyone was leaving, Boo invited everyone out again next weekend, as his parents were coming in town. I'm pretty sure that he'll want me to come too, but figuring out the logistics as far as me sleeping there should be interesting. He didn't mention it again, so we shall see. After some ice cream and a round of massages, we collapsed into bed around 10pm, sleepy from all the food and sun.

Today, I look like a friggin' lobster and everyone has commented on it. Thanks Captains Obvious! And I'm already bumming because I really enjoy my time with Boo and hate having to wait another week to see him.

Can't you hear me knockin'?

2008-03-12T14:01:00.000-04:00

This Saturday, a friend of Boo's is getting married. And he didn't invite me to come. He's making it out to seem like it's not a big deal, and he just wants to show up for a little while to be nice, as he's only known the couple about as long as he's known me. Still, I'm kind of offended that he wouldn't ask me to go with him. I'm probably overanalyzing it like I often do, but I can't come up with a good reason for him not to ask me to accompany him. But I suppose that's why men and women are so different. He probably hasn't given it a second thought, and I'm troubled by it. It's almost like he's holding me at arm's length and is afraid to let me any closer...and things like interacting with his parents or accompanying him to a wedding is too close for his comfort. It bugs the piss out of me.

Just emotions taking me over

2008-03-05T16:36:00.000-05:00

Last night, I went to Boo's house as my week of house/dogsitting commenced. The minute I walked in the door and he wasn't there, I got all choked up. That has never happened before. Sure, Animal Planet gets me all teary frequently, but crying because my quasi-boyfriend is gone for four days?? Absurdity. And the funny thing is, it didn't stop. I teared up doing his laundry. I teared up when I told my mother how lonely the house felt. I teared up when I crawled into his bed. I couldn't get a grip. I'm even getting a little moist in the eyes while typing this. I'm not really an emotional person, and I mean it. I don't even have PMS, so becoming a blubbering mess at the blink of an eye really caught me off guard. I have a feeling tonight won't be much different.

And here I was wondering if I really was in love with the guy. Anyone wanna throw me a rope because this is getting deep?!

Hello there, angel from my nightmare

2008-03-04T16:00:00.000-05:00

Last night, I dreamt that Boo and I had a huge fight. He was hanging out with his buddy for New Year's Eve and I walked into the bar. I went to say hi and he glared at me while shaking his head. He told me to go max out my credit cards some more because I was a stupid bitch. I took a margarita glass and slammed it on the bar, shattering it. I shook a broken shard of glass at him and told him to never, ever, in any circumstance, call me bitch again. Boo made several more appearances in my dream, and ignored me each time. When I woke up, my stomach hurt and I was damp with sweat. How bizarre is that? I don't even know where to begin in analyzing it.

In other news, I got pulled over on the way to work today. Luckily, my good looks and charm got me a warning instead of ticket. Who am I kidding? It was the boobs and nothing but the boobs. But hey, whatever works, right?

Roomies, beds and boats

2008-02-29T18:33:00.000-05:00

I posted an ad on roommates.com in a half-ass attempt to find a roommate. I did get one email from a guy who seems to be a good fit with rent and location. I keep bringing it up to Boo, hoping he'll decide that me living with any guy but him is just not a good idea. He doesn't seem too thrilled about it, but won't offer up much else than thinking it's a bad idea. Still, I can't wait too much longer because the traffic on the drive home is KILLING me. Seriously. I can't handle it.

I'm housesitting (and dogsitting) for Boo next week while he is on a business trip in San Diego. Oh the things I can do when he's gone. I'm really tempted to go out and get him a new bedding set because I HATE the one he has. Dog hair sticks to it so easily that it bugs the piss out of me, his sheets need some serious help and nothing matches! I know I should probably save my money for something more practical, but come on, when is Boo really going to break down and buy himself new bedding without my influence? My only thought is that it may be toeing the line between being a sweet girlfriend and invading his "guy" space.

Boo bought a boat yesterday. He's picking it up today and driving it home through the waterways. That makes me nervous for several reasons. He's no Able Body seamen (far from it!) and his buddy will be tagging along with a cooler full of beer. Hopefully, when I leave work today, he's hasn't drowned himself and his boat!

Sometimes I wish violence was the answer

2008-02-22T16:26:00.000-05:00

My current job is at a printing company where I take care of all the typesetting, design layout, emailing files, and printing plates for the presses, all of which I love. What I don't love is dealing with irrational people in person and on the phone. I don't know why, but people's expectations are excessive and impractical.

In just the few short weeks I've been here, the flow of stupid people has been endless. I've had a lady bring in a sample business card to have printed, demanding it be done the very next day, which would be easy if we had no other customers, and speed-dry ink. She was also mad that we had moved and she had to drive out of her way to get to us. I can be influencing, but never have I unknowingly forced a potential customer to drive OUT OF THEIR WAY.

I also had a lady come in wanting a quote for printing up special labels. We gave her a quote, but she expected a proof to come with it. As nicely as possible, I explained to her that unless she was happy with the price and was placing an order, she would not get a proof because it would be time and money wasted for our company if she decided the price was too high. Oh, but the other printing companies she has worked with gave her proofs. She doesn't get it.

Another guy called in and asked me to email all his files or put them on a CD. I explained that they were in several different formats that could only be opened by certain design programs, unless I converted them all which could take quite awhile. He insisted and I've been emailing them two or three at a time. He keeps calling to bug me about it, and all I want to do is yell at him because we're not charging him for the work. Hey asshole, beggars can't be choosers.

I almost understand why people commit murder.

One step forward, three steps back

2008-02-18T14:59:00.000-05:00

I have always been more anti-Valentine's Day than not. I can't recall a really super V-Day after 1999. As the years went on, I grew to resent the holiday and everything it has become. I want someone to buy me a card, flowers or gifts because they truly care, not because some day in February makes them feel obligated. That said, I was still secretly hoping I would get SOMETHING from Boo for Valentine's Day...a card, a kiss, a vibrating cock ring.

He didn't even wish me a Happy Valentine's Day.

AND, I didn't get any lovin' this weekend either. Granted, Aunt Flo does put a damper on those particular activities, and Boo's shower stall is painfully small, so it was either bjs all weekend or nothing. I'm selfish sometimes, so I opted for nothing. Well, I also have TMJ which makes excessive use of my jaw kind of painful, but regardless, if I wasn't getting this weekend, I wasn't giving either. Yep, I can be a spoiled brat.

I left a card for Boo when I left his house this morning. I had written it out to give to him Friday night, but I totally forgot. It is the perfect Valentine's Day card ever. To sum it up, it basically says I like you a lot, but not quite in the I-wanna-have-your-babies way. And that is actually a direct line from the card. I do really like him. A LOT. But it's not love yet, and that card summed it up for me perfectly. And maybe it will instill a little bit of guilt for not even wishing me a Happy Valentine's Day.

Other good side stories of the weekend:

Friday night, we went to a new bar/club in town that serves sushi. They were having a "hook-up party" where you chose different color bracelets according to your status. They had green bracelets for horny, yellow meant down for anything, blue meant in a relationship, etc. As the doorman explained the colors to us, I couldn't help but smile in anticipation of what color Boo was going to pick. I knew he wouldn't pick the blue. He decided on yellow and I did the same. Chicken.

Boo finally bit the bullet and bought a new washer and dryer. A few weekends back, I did all of his laundry, including sheets and comforters. Well, the dryer sucks so badly that it singed one of his comforters. I felt awful, even though it technically wasn't my fault. I convinced him that the dryer was dangerous and he needed new appliances. He almost bought a full kitchen appliance package, but he decided to wait until he got new cabinets.

The end.

180 Degrees

2008-02-12T23:51:00.000-05:00

Friday night, Boo and I were on our way to meet friends for drinks when Flo-rida's "Low" came on the radio. Boo finds this song ridiculous, but never fails to sing it when it comes on the radio...twenty times a day. This time was no different, and we both started singing along..."Apple Bottom jeans, boots with the fuurrrrr..." And then it happened. Boo looked right at me, and said the four most significant words he has ever said in my presence..."when we get married." I could not believe my ears and I barely heard him finish the sentence with the suggestion that we should dance to "Low" at our wedding. Not knowing quite what to say, all I could tell him was that I would much rather dance to "Bubbly" (Boo's other love-to-hate song).

Later that night, I was waiting for Boo to emerge from the bar where he was talking to my silly, drunk Canadian friend (and ex-boss). Apparently, drunk Canadians run their mouths when they are drunk, and he said something about me that Boo found offensive. Boo came storming toward me, talking in incomplete sentences about the drunk Canadian talking shit about me. I brushed it off because a) he was drunk and b) we talk shit to each other all the time. Boo continued on about it the whole way home, as I tried to convince him it was no big deal. As we got into bed, he finally agreed that the drunk Canadian was probably just being silly, but whatever offensive words Canadian said had made him realize how much he cares about me. He was getting all poignant with his words, and I half expected him to tell me he loved me.

I think Operation: Housewife could very well morph into Operation: Defined Relationship!

Operation: Housewife

2008-02-05T00:30:00.000-05:00

Operation: Housewife commenced at 1800 hours, 01 Feb 08.

Mission:

Seek and destroy any dirt, grime, mold, dust bunnies, hairballs, or other undesirable matter in the home located at 128 Ramarim Court (aka Boo's House).
Locate any and all soiled fabrics to be thoroughly cleansed, dried, folded and returned to their proper locations. If a proper location cannot be identified, one will be sought.
Identify and acquire rations to be prepared for consumption morning and evening.
Provide more tasteful decor options to accentuate living quarters.
Consistently engage in sexual commerce for mutual gratification.

Desired outcome: Become a permanent domestic fixture at 128 Ramarim Court; perform aforementioned duties in lieu of contributing a large financial sum, albeit a small financial contribution would not be ruled out; excellent reciprocity.

Undesired outcome: Become a temporary domestic fixture, asked for only when necessary; poor reciprocity bordering on exploitation.

Updates on mission progress to follow.

O hai! I Can Has My Own Drawer?

2008-01-29T00:37:00.000-05:00

Life has been pretty hectic lately. I found a new job where I am actually putting my college degree to good use. Hooray! However, the job is about 40 miles south, which means getting my ass up at 5:45am and seething at asshat drivers for an hour. Boo! It totally sucks because I am NOT a morning person, and I quit smoking which had been my saving grace on long drives for quite a few years. So between sleeping, working and driving, I don't have much time or much motivation to do much else.

I've been kinda sorta unrealistically looking for apartments and/or roommates on Craigslist. I say that because I can't really afford to move out yet, but the drive and the gas prices are already killing me, so I am hoping for a miracle in the form of wicked cheap rent. That said, I am also hoping that if I drop enough hints, Boo will take some pity on me and offer to let me stay at his house a few nights a week. However, I know that is completely pushing it. He did suggest I stay at his house last night so I didn't have to drive as far this morning. And I did. We joked about how we were having a sleepover on a school night. Cute, right? Still, neither of us are completely against the idea of me doing some cleaning and cooking (he's basically helpless in those areas) in exchange for a few nights of domestic bliss (and some consistent nookie!). He's just a little wary of the "I Want My Own Drawer" scenario, which I completely understand. Lover or not, I don't like my space invaded either. I guess time will tell...hopefully sooner rather than later!

That's a lovely shade of crimson...

2008-01-11T19:38:00.000-05:00

I've always had a hard time expressing my feelings. Conversely, I have no problems talking about all things taboo, especially sex. Sometimes, my mouth gets the better of me and I forget to censor myself a little bit depending on whose company I am in.

One night, my girl friend and I met up at the bar to watch a Sox game. We were about two pitchers of beer deep when Boo and his buddy, Calvin unexpectedly walked in. It was a pleasant surprise, and we immediately ordered several rounds of shots. With me, when there's alcohol, the conversation almost always turns X-rated at some point. It was no different this night, either.

Side story: The Friday night prior, Boo and I returned to his place after the bar and tumbled into bed. We started to get a little freaky because we all know that drinking lowers your inhibitions tenfold. Boo got a little enthusiastic and rolled on top of me in the 69 position. Apparently, I found this fantastic and got a little overzealous myself. Through no fault of my own (it was the booze, I promise), my tongue ended up close to his "exit only." Too close. The funny thing is, I remembered none of it. End side story.

So, yeah, we're at the bar talking about sex-related things. I'm not sure why or how it was brought up, but I directed a comment jokingly in Boo's direction about rim jobbing. His face turned five shades of red, turned toward Calvin and changed the subject. Boo is not one to get embarrassed easily, so I was puzzled at his reaction. I grabbed him by the arm and asked him what his deal was. He laughed, shook his head and told me I had diarrhea of the mouth. Surely, he was joking, because I was. And then came the flashbacks. Oh. My. God. I DID NOT. DID I? I kept repeating those words over and over to Boo. He just kept nodding. I gasped and clasped my hand over my mouth, my eyes wide as dinner plates. He laughed as I apologized profusely. Luckily, neither my girl friend nor Calvin were none the wiser and continued on to a safer subject as I sat dumbfounded at not only my big mouth, but also my willingness to get my tongue that close to...ahem...you know what.

Lesson learned, notes taken, and props to my man for not shooting up to the ceiling when I pulled that little trick.

A Quasi Couple

2008-01-10T01:06:00.000-05:00

Boo and I finally sat down to talk about our relationship and our future. It was preceded by a hurtful comment directed toward me, and I called him out. He told me he didn't know why he made the comment, he was fucked up in the head, and was trying to push me away. I asked him what I was even doing at his house, ready to spend the weekend, when he was so adamantly trying to push me away. When he didn't have a clear, definitive answer, I felt my heart sank into the depths of my chest. Sensing my disappointment, he explained that months prior to meeting me, he had just gotten out of a two-year relationship and he was currently in no position to make a commitment.

Surprisingly, the tears didn't come as I expected them to. My mind was racing with thoughts and things I wanted to say, but I was unable to speak. I could only look down at my fingers as they fidgeted with the sofa fabric. I remained silent until Boo asked me what I was expecting out of our relationship. It was my turn in lacking a clear, definitive answer. I didn't know. What I did know was that I really liked him and I hoped the feeling was mutual. I didn't want to be wasting my time with him if it wasn't. He assured me that I wouldn't be sitting there with him if he didn't like me, but he just wasn't ready to put forth any sort of commitment if that's what I was searching for.

Again, I sat in silence, searching for the right words to say. Truthfully, I wasn't exactly sure what I was searching for, but the biggest thing bothering me about not knowing where we stood was the uncertainty of him seeing other women. I told Boo that I certainly wasn't looking for marriage (yet) or to even put a label on our relationship, but there were a couple things that I wanted to be certain of. I wanted to know if he was seeing other women, and if so, was he intimate with them because, after all, we had stopped using condoms after getting tested and I had a right to know. Boo told me that there weren't any other women, just me. He added that he only had time for work and for me, but for now, work would always come first.

Talking about work brought him to the second reason he wasn't ready for commitment. He explained that this year, he really wanted to focus most of his attention on work, and making it to the top of his sales team. He's very competitive, but more importantly, he's got a house that needs some serious work, so the more money coming in for him, the better. He did interject that he in no way meant that he wanted me to disappear from his life because he really enjoyed our time together. And with that, the conversation ended as impetuously as it began.

Obviously, we were in no better position than before, but I felt surprisingly at ease about the whole situation. I think the fact that I was meeting his family the very next day didn't hurt either. I mean if it's not that serious, you don't go introducing your quasi-girlfriend to your family. Am I right? In any event, what it boils down to is that we both enjoy each other's company, and neither of us knows what the future will hold, so we might as well sit back and enjoy the ride. That, and Boo is the first guy in years that has been genuine and, well, tolerable! I'm no quitter, so I can't very well quit now can I?

I can say one thing. Whatever happens, it's gonna be a hell of a ride.

2007: My Year in Review

2008-01-04T17:04:00.000-05:00

Ok, so it's January 4th already, and I'm just now reviewing the past year, but I'm lazy. Deal with it. And also, I've been dealing with trying to define a still undefined relationship, even after a "define the relationship" conversation (I'll explain later), which is a great big poop sandwich. Thanks for understanding. Here we go...

January: I met a really cool guy via Match.com. Except he turned out to be not cool at all. And he may or may not have stolen my credit card number when I wasn't looking, because shortly after, mysterious charges from Montreal showed up on my statement. He's from Montreal. Coincidence? Maybe. Anyway, I really liked him until he suddenly stopped calling and said charges appeared.

February: I met another seemingly cool guy (read: douchebag). He had the balls to ask me how many people I had slept with like he was in any position to even ask. He borrowed one of my DVDs and has yet to return it. I got back in touch with a high school girl friend whom I met up with when she was down here vacationing with her fiancé. She broke the news of my high school sweetheart getting married, which didn't affect me as profoundly as I imagined.

March: The girls and I had a kick-ass weekend in Islamorada. Kenny Chesney was playing in Key West that same weekend and I missed out due to being a wee bit too intoxicated to drive. My girl friend introduced me to her cute neighbor. He had the bad boy look going on that I adored. We took a liking to each other, even though I knew he was trouble. I met another guy on Match.com who was the total opposite of the bad boy. I couldn't decide on which one I wanted to date.

April: I decided to date the good guy after he decided we should be exclusive. We had a blast going out together and taking road trips to Gainesville. He even bought me flowers for no reason. Still, there was something missing I couldn't put a finger on.

May: The good guy and I broke it off after we decided the sparks just weren't there. I went back to hanging out with the bad boy where the drama never ended. At the end of May, my parents and I left for a two week trip to New England.

June: In New England, I got to catch up with family friends I hadn't seen in years. I lived out of a suitcase for the first week of the month. I continued hanging out with the bad boy until he decided to go back to his psycho ex-girlfriend, which really was for the better. Boo found me on MySpace and we started talking. We met up briefly to take our dogs to the dog park.

July: I spent the 4th of July with my girl friend at Boo's. His buddy was there and the four of us watched movies and drank all night. Boo took me out right before my birthday and got me completely hammered. He kissed me and I realized that maybe I kind of liked him. Harry took me out for my birthday and got me completely hammered. I spent my whole birthday weekend in a drunken haze. Boo and I started hanging out quite often.

August: I had my first "sleepover" at Boo's. I started spending full weekends with him. I realized I really did like him, which surprised me since he was the opposite of my "type." Mick started texting me out of the blue wanting to hang out. It never happened. Boo and I took a road trip to the Hard Rock in Hollywood to see our new favorite comedian, Pablo Francisco. Best weekend ever.

September: I flew to Boston and drove to see my bestest girl in New Hampshire for a few days. I drove to Maine to attend the wedding of a high school girl friend and got to catch up with more long lost friends. I definitely missed the crap out of Boo when I was gone which kind of threw me for a loop.

October: The Red Sox kicked ass and made it to the ALCS. My car got towed from Boo's street and he generously paid to get it back, even though it was the third time a car got towed from the street outside his house. For Halloween, Boo and I dressed up as "Blow Me" tissues and jailbird Paris Hilton respectively, and went to an outdoor block party. I ran into Mick who was working security. He texted me all night about hanging out after he was done work. It never happened. Oh, I almost forgot. MY RED SOX WON THE EFFING WORLD SERIES AGAIN!

November: I attempted (and failed) National Blog Posting Month. I managed to bust out 23 posts out of the 30 days. A guy I briefly dated came out of the woodwork and I met up with him for some beer. We caught up and realized how much fun we have together. He took me by surprise and kissed me, but I pulled away. I brought Boo with me to attend a wedding of a guy friend from high school. He is very religious so we prepared ourselves. However, we had not prepared ourselves for a dry reception. We stayed as long as we could to be polite, and then hightailed it to the nearest bar for beer and the Gators.

December: Boo moved into his new house and I helped him paint. As I hoped, he let me pick out the colors and he was very happy with my choices. We celebrated Boo's birthday at the emergency room after he fell and cut his head open. I finally got to meet Boo's parents along with his grandmother, aunt, uncle and cousin. Boo and I had the "talk" about our relationship, which left us in the same position we are now (like I said, I'll explain more later).

It has been quite a year. The drama with guys was definitely kept to a minimum (compared to last year), which was nice for a change. I didn't accomplish everything I wanted to last year, and the new year isn't looking as bright as I had hoped, but the optimist in me says things are only going to get better. I didn't make any resolutions because I am total crap at living up to them, but I did think up some goals I'd like to try to work toward. Here's to a better and brighter future!

Drink, Drank, KERPLUNK

2007-12-18T16:06:00.000-05:00

Friday was Boo's birthday, so I left work a little early, put on my fishnets and garters under my jeans and ventured out for an evening full of birthday debauchery. Little did I know how debauched we would get.

Against my suggestion, Boo, his friend Calvin and I ended up at a local sports bar. We were already several beers and several shots deep when Calvin's wife, Cara, and their ten-year-old, Jon, showed up to join our celebration. I sat with Cara talking while the boys were cruelly attacking lobsters at the Grab-a-Poor-Unexpecting-Lobster-in-the-Tank game.

Mid-conversation, Jon came running up yelling something about Boo falling down. Thinking it was one of Boo's normal drunken tricks, we continued our conversation until Jon said he was bleeding. We jumped up and ran across the bar. As I got closer, all I could see from behind the pool table were Boo's legs and feet on the ground. When we reached Boo, he was already sitting up and holding the back of his head. And there was blood. Surprisingly, we all remained pretty calm and got Boo off the floor and on to a bench. We examined his head and there was pretty deep gash. By this time, a bartender and a manager had already come over to see what the chaos was about. Words were exchanged about calling the paramedics, while Boo insisted he was fine.

Five minutes later, the paramedics showed up. They did their thing in examining him and asking him routine questions. They advised us that Boo should go to the hospital because he had been drinking and symptoms of a head injury could be masked. After much argument from Boo and the paramedics threatening him, I found myself accompanying Boo to the hospital.

In the ER, Boo continued his arguments and bitter sarcasm assuring everyone that he was fine. An IV, a liter of pee and a refused CAT scan later, the doctor told him he could leave AMA only if his BAC was under .15 or something to that effect. At this point, Calvin, Cara and Jon had come to the ER. After what seemed like forever and listening to Boo piss and moan, the doctor finally agreed to let Boo check himself out into Cara's care since she was the only sober one. The doctor closed his wound with two staples while the nurses belittled Boo for leaving against medical advice. In spite, Boo pulled the IV out of his arm allowing a tiny river of blood to drip on to the floor. Without hesitation, he marched out to the desk and checked himself out.

We were back at Boo's house by 11pm playing Guitar Hero and laughing at Boo's misfortune when Calvin showed us his injury of the evening: an extremely bruised and swollen pinky finger. As the story goes, Boo gave Calvin a bear hug from behind, causing both of them to stumble and fall backward. Calvin is about twice the size of Boo, and his weight came crashing down on top of Boo. The pool table was there to break their fall, leaving a nice gash on Boo's head and breaking Calvin's pinky as he tried to catch himself on the way down. Cheers to drunken man love.

Boo turned out to be just fine, and the evening wasn't a total disaster, although my fishnets and garters didn't get the use that I had hoped for. We did manage to sneak in some naked cannonballs into the pool and a little bit of loving, despite the fact that Boo most definitely had a killer headache.

Never a dull moment!

Dear Santa...

2007-12-13T13:38:00.000-05:00

How much of a hassle would it be to dump a few tons of snow on top of my house for Christmas?

You see, I dealt with snow for the majority of my 26 years in existence and I grew so tired of the shoveling, depending on the sand and plow trucks, the dirty snow banks, and the stress of maneuvering a vehicle on snowy roads. When I came to Florida, I vowed I would never again deal with New England and its five plus months of winter. Five years later, I still haven't. But Christmas never seems like Christmas without a little bit of snow. And now, as New England braces for some serious snowfall, I can't help but be a tiny bit jealous.

I know it's a lot to ask, but cuddling up under blankets lit only by lights on the tree while the snow falls outside would make Christmas perfect. And by the next day, it would be all melted! No shoveling or plowing. No dirty snowbanks leftover. Plus, the ground would get some much needed moisture. It would be ideal, really.

So whaddya say Jolly Pants? See if you can work a deal with Mother Nature for me and divert some of that snow this way. I don't think New England would really mind.

P.S. I've been reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally good this year. For real this time. C'mon! I even quit smoking!

Buried Hope

2007-11-29T01:05:00.000-05:00

Tonight, just before dark, I buried St. Joseph. Twice. And I'm not even religious.

* * *

My mom was a caretaker for a well-to-do couple until they recently decided to move eight hours north to be closer to their children. In lieu of waiting for their two (yes, two) houses to sell, they put them on the market, packed up their belongings and schlepped their way north, leaving the burden of selling the houses to their realtor. Eight months and handful of meager offers later, the houses are still unoccupied.

* * *

So tonight, there we were, digging holes in front of these houses to bury little plastic St. Joseph figurines and reading from prayer cards. I couldn't help but laugh because I am really not superstitious, especially when it comes to Catholic superstitions. But who am I judge these people who are counting on some buried plastic man to help sell their homes? After all, I would hope people wouldn't judge me because I am counting on some fabled perfect man to sweep me off my feet.

Boondocks

2007-11-27T23:05:00.000-05:00

NaBloPoMo is almost complete and I am thankful (if you couldn't tell by the lame-o posts lately). Well, if you were hoping for a post with substance, I'll kindly refer you to any of my links there at the left, as they probably have way better things to talk about. Me, I'm gonna post another meme!

MEME Rules:
1. Put your MP3 player on shuffle
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. You must write the name of the song no matter what. No cheating!

IF SOMEONE SAYS “IS THIS OKAY?” YOU SAY?
You're All I Need by Mary J. Blige (Awww!)

WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
Porno Star by Buckcherry (LOL!! I'm not THAT outgoing!)

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
These Days by Rascall Flatts

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Stars Are Blind by Paris Hilton (Ummm, ok.)

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE’S PURPOSE?
Forever by Papa Roach

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Doin' It by LL Cool J (hmmm...kinda like Nike but dirtier!)

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
#1 by Nelly (Damn right!)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?
When the Last Time by Clipse (Sounds like something they say to me all the time!)

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Send Me An Angel remixed by Paul Oakenfold (If by angel we're talking about the perfect man, then yes!)

WHAT IS 2+2?
We'll Be Burning by Sean Paul (Yes, math should die in a fire.)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
It's Like That by Mariah Carey ft. Jermaine Dupri

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Cry by James Blunt (Nooooo, not yet!)

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Next 2 You by Buckcherry

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Summer Skin by Death Cab for Cutie (Eww.)

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Hush by LL Cool J (I think Doin' It fits better here...lol!)

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Splash Waterfalls by Ludacris (Disturbing!!!)

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne (Let's hope not!)

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
I Stand Alone by Godsmack (Interesting, no?)

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Back When by Tim McGraw (Well, I do like to reminisce, I suppose.)

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
Everytime We Touch by Cascada (Not my biggest, but it is something I haven't told him.)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Bossy by Kelis (Hahahahahaha! Yes, some of them are, but that's why I love 'em!)

WHAT SHOULD YOU POST THIS AS?
Boondocks by Little Big Town

Bah Humbug

2007-11-27T01:15:00.000-05:00

As much as I love the holidays, I'm totally not ready for Christmas this year. I'm somewhat relieved that I only have to buy gifts for my parents, but the problem of little money still exists.

I did sneak in a gift for Boo even though he told me not to. He's always taking me out and always pays for everything, so it's the least I can do. Well, that, and I am tired of seeing him wear the same Florida Gators shirt over and over.

At least my parents are easy and relatively inexpensive to buy for. Now's the time to get creative!

Behind the Paint

2007-11-25T23:07:00.000-05:00

Today, Boo received the key to his very own house. Granted, it's his second house (he owns one in Orlando that he rents), but a house nonetheless. It's definitely a fixed upper and needs a lot of tender loving care, but it's his house, with his very own driveway where Grass Nazis will not tow cars away. Oh, and it has a pool. Can anyone say skinny dipping? Hurray!

Boo called me while doing another walk-through. He's completely overwhelmed at all the crap that needs to be done. One of the first things on the list is painting all the rooms. Boo is a man who hates shopping, has little fashion sense, and is mildly colorblind, so the task of shopping for and finding paint colors is daunting to him. I offered my expertise and provided a few suggestions. I even told him I would help paint because I find it kind of entertaining. At first, he didn't seem too keen on having a girl help him decorate his "manly space" in fear that it would turn out too feminine. I reminded him that currently, everything in the house is either white or pink, so anything would be a change for the better. That seemed to sway his opinion a little in my favor.

I'm really hoping he does let me help him with the paint at the very least. But all the hoping really has nothing to do with the paint and everything to do with letting me into his life. Just like when he asks me what shirt to wear, by letting me help him choose paint colors, he's allowing my input and valuing my opinion, which means a lot to me. I'm probably reading way too much into it since we're talking about painting walls, not commitment. But dammit, my crazy female psyche will be appeased once I'm slapping on coat after coat of the paint I picked out.

That makes me neurotic, doesn't it?

Gosh no! Why would I wanna move out!?!

2007-11-24T23:07:00.001-05:00

Dad (yelling to me from the living room): Hey, have you seen mom?

Me: It wasn't my turn to watch her, but I'm guessing she's in the bedroom.

::an hour later::

Phone rings. Mom answers.

Dad (yelling to me from the living room): Who is that on the phone?

Me: I don't know. My supersonic hearing isn't working too well today.

::half an hour later::

Dad (yelling to me from the living room): Hey, isn't it time to go to bed?

Me: Last time I checked, I grew up and I could pick what time I went to bed.

Dad (still yelling to me from the living room): Watch it!

::five minutes later::

Dad (yep, still yelling to me from the living room): Hey, is mom asleep in the bedroom?

Me: I don't know. Like you, I can't see through the bedroom wall.

The way life should be

2007-11-24T00:31:00.000-05:00

If it weren't for the 7+ months of winter weather, I probably would have moved back to Maine by now. However, the warmth and year-round beach weather here trumps all the little things that I miss about living in Maine. Still, it's a pretty cool place to live and most people have no idea how cool it is.

It's a picture perfect place to film movies. Cider House Rules, Pet Semetary, Message In A Bottle, and In the Bedroom were all filmed in Maine.
Stephen King has been a long-time resident of Bangor, Maine.
Acadia National Park is the second most visited national park in the U.S.
McDreamy (Patrick Dempsey) was born and raised in Maine.
Freeport, Maine is the home of L.L. Bean.
Maine is the #1 exporter of blueberries and toothpicks.
From October 7th to March 6th, Cadillac Mountain in Bar Harbor is the first site in the continguous United States to see morning's sunlight.
Legend has it that the donut hole machine, earmuffs, power drill, snow plow, thermostat and toothpick were all invented in Maine.
Mainahs have wicked cool accents, ayuh!

Thanksgiving Nostalgia

2007-11-23T00:07:00.000-05:00

I've been celebrating Thanksgiving here in Florida for five years now and every year is just as fun and eventful as the last. This year, the pomegranate martinis were better (and stronger) than the year before, and I am approximately two times drunker than last year, but I digress.

Still, every year, there is always something missing from every celebration that I can't really bring to the table. I miss the chilly nip in the air, the smell of the the autumn leaves piled on the ground, the whiff of the chimney smoke wafting into my nose, and the gorgeous pink flush in my cheeks after attempting to walk off dinner and two pieces of pie.

It's funny...after 22 years of bitching about the weather, having to rakes leaves and the hassle of heating the house, I really and truly miss it. They say home is where the heart is, and I've always considered Florida to be my home since my family and I moved five years ago. But what do they say when a small piece of your heart stays behind and never transplants itself in your new so-called home?

Ladies, let us give thanks

2007-11-22T01:22:00.000-05:00

Today, MSN has an article on why women should give thanks for men. While the list is cute and all, I've come up with real, uncensored reasons we should give thanks for men.

The penis deserves the top spot. Need I say more?

"The V." Is there anything sexier than those angular creases pointing downward causing us to blush with naughty images racing through our minds.

They don't notice our stretch marks, cellulite, blemishes or extra flab, and instead see our naked bodies as the biggest turn-on ever.

The way they can't help but grab a butt cheek or a breast when we're getting dressed.

Their necks always smell fantastic.

However rough it may be, a five o'clock shadow is sexy.

They can usually tell when we want slow, gentle lovemaking, or hot, raunchy, rough sex.

They know how to dress, but value our opinion on which tie or pair of socks to wear.

No matter how old they are, they always manage to maintain a boyish charm.

They're irresistible in uniform whether it's a suit and tie, hospital scrubs, army fatigues or ratty workout clothes.

Without a second thought, they open doors, pull out chairs, and twist the beer cap off our beer before handing it to us.

Having a man in your bed is like having your own personal heater (who needs extra blankets??).

Their large, strong hands give killer massages.

Watching a man interact with babies and children will melt your heart.

His underhanded compliments, a simple touch, a look, a whiff of his scent, or a witty remark can brighten our day tenfold.

Like they say, can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em. And with reasons as good as these, I don't wanna live without 'em!

Catch-22

2007-11-20T22:02:00.000-05:00

Boo and I have been dating for four months now. We still haven't had "the DTR (define the relationship) talk" about where this is headed. Up until now, my theory was if it ain't broke, don't fix it, because things have been going pretty well. However, recently, I've been finding myself bothered by the fact that I don't know where we stand as a couple. For example, the other night I was hanging out with my girl friend for the night and asked Boo to call me when he was returning home from his night out. I ended up calling him three or four times without an answer. The psychotic wheels started turning, and I began worrying about all the possible undesirable scenarios, all of which involved him and another girl. There has never been any reason for me not to trust Boo, and he's never struck me as the womanizing type. And believe me, I have had a good deal of experience pinpointing those types. As it turned out, the explanation was indeed a logical one and I felt like an idiot for doubting him. Still, the insecurities are there because I'm not certain of the exclusivity.

Why don't I just ask him, you say? The problem is that I'm fearful of bringing up the topic for several reasons. There's always a chance the outcome won't be a good one. I'm not sure if he hasn't brought it up himself because he's just as hesitant as I am, or he doesn't want to bring it up because he's content with the way things are. I also have no experience in having a "define the relationship" talk because in the past, my relationships always seemed to be implied and it was assumed that we were together as a couple. I don't know where to begin. I have no idea what I am doing. I'm lost. This is uncharted territory and I've got no map!

Excuses, excuses

2007-11-19T12:44:00.000-05:00

Why I failed to post over the weekend, yet again:

1 bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau
1 hour digging furniture out of my storage unit
4 hours watching college football
4 buckets of Miller Lite consumed while watching college football
2 fantastic naps
$50 in tasty food and drinks at an excellent bistro
3 hours playing Guitar Hero
1 trip to the dog beach
3 hour Sunday night TV marathon
1 Crispy Melt pizza from Domino's
3 hours total driving time

What can I say? Blogging comes second in life...especially when there is football, beer and Guitar Hero.

Running On Fumes

2007-11-16T02:36:00.000-05:00

Today's post is brought to you courtesy of the Running Out of Topics of Interest Alliance.

What time did you get up this morning? 6:55am

Diamonds or pearls? Diamonds

What was the last film you saw at the cinema? Geez, I haven't been in awhile. I last saw Superbad, I think.

What's your favorite TV show? I think Pushing Daisies is becoming my new favorite.

What did you have for breakfast this morning? Apples & cinnamon oatmeal

What's your favorite cuisine? Mexican

What foods do you dislike? Spinach, raw onions, sauerkraut (and I'm German!)

What is your favorite chip flavor? Cool Ranch Doritos and BBQ Fritos

What's your favorite CD at the moment? I don't buy CDs anymore.

What kind of car do you drive? 2006 Toyota Corolla

Favorite sandwich? Cold Cut Combo at Subway

What characteristics do you despise? Dishonesty, disloyalty, too serious, arrogance

What is your favorite type of clothing? I live in jeans and flip-flops.

If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go? Africa

What color is your bathroom? Sage green with palm trees

Favorite brand of clothing? Seven jeans. As far as everything else, Express, A&F, and Old Navy.

Where would you retire to? Right here in Florida

Favorite time of the day? Evening, or late mornings where I can lounge in bed.

What was your most memorable birthday? Right before my 13th birthday, my classmate and former grade school sweetheart drowned in Texas.

Where were you born? Norwich, CT

Favorite sport to watch? Baseball...the Red Sox are my life!!

What fabric detergent do you use? Whatever is on sale

Were you named after anyone? I was going to be named Autumn until my mother spotted a cashier's nametag with another A name and decided to go with that.

Do you wish on stars? When I see a shooting star.

When did you last cry? I honestly can't remember, but I do tear up everytime I watch any animal rescue show.

Do you like your handwriting? It's ok, could be better. The funny thing is that it morphs over time.

If you were another person, would YOU be friends with you? Yes! Not to sound conceited, but I wish I could find more friends such as myself. I am funny, reliable, trustworthy, I will never ditch a friend for a guy, and I always make for a good time no matter what.

Are you a daredevil? Yes and no. I am an adrenaline junkie (bungee jumping, sky diving, roller coasters), but I won't dare to go up to strangers and start conversations.

Do looks matter? I won't lie, they certainly do, but they aren't the "tell all, be all," so to speak.

How do you release anger? I hardly get angry enough to need to release it, but if I do, I tend to slam doors and cry.

What were your favorite toys as a child? Barbies, Strawberry Shortcake and Legos

What class in high school was totally useless? They were useful for college, but the advanced algebra classes I took are totally useless now. I can barely remember how to solve a basic algebraic equation, nor do I ever have to.

Favorite movies? Dirty Dancing, Footloose, City of Angels, Love & Basketball

What are your nicknames? Tiny Dancer (see last post)

Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? Nope

Do you think that you are strong? Yes, physically, emotionally, and mentally.

What's your favorite ice cream flavor? Anything with caramel on it

What are your favorite colors? I don't have a favorite color, but I tend to favor black in the clothes I wear.

What is your least favorite thing about yourself? I tend to get attached to men I am dating more quickly than I intend to. And I am a compulsive shopper.

Who do you miss the most? I miss my best friend who lives in New Hampshire. We are so much alike and we could have the best time watching paint dry.

What color pants are you wearing? Blue jeans

Last thing you ate? Apples & cinnamon oatmeal

Favorite song? It's impossible for me to pick.

If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Red

Last person you talked to on the phone? My friend Sam back home in Maine

What is the first thing you notice about the opposite sex? I first notice if they are attractive to me, and then I check to see if their hands are attractive to me.

Favorite drink? Mountain Dew, although I've quit drinking it.

Do you wear contacts? Negative

Favorite day of the year? My birthday

Endings happy or sad? Happy endings...double entendre!

Winter/summer? Summer, hands down.

Hugs or Kisses? Both, please.

What is your favorite dessert? Again, anything with caramel. Oh, and I love cheesecake too.

What book(s) are you reading? Life of Pi by Yann Martel...for about six months now because I keep forgetting to read it, and then I go back and reread to refresh.

What is on your mouse pad? Here at work, it's my boss's nieces and nephews, and at home, it's Tigger.

What did you watch last night on TV? Pushing Daisies and Real World: Sydney

Favorite smells? Leaves in the fall, Jean-Paul Gaultier's Le Male, and clean sheets

Stones or Beatles? Stones

What's the furthest you've been from home? Europe

Gettin' Skinny: Update

2007-11-15T02:13:00.000-05:00

Duration thus far: 1 week, 3 days
Times cheated: 3; beer on Friday and Saturday, quesadilla on Sunday
Pounds shed: 2
Ease of nutrition plan: Medium; it takes a bit more planning to get in five or six small meals a day.
Odds of sticking to it through the holidays: 90%; I'll definitely be cheating on Thanksgiving and Christmas.

The Name Game

2007-11-14T01:55:00.000-05:00

I always thought people with unusual nicknames were lucky because they always had an interesting story to tell. My friends Picklez, Scruff, Bong, and Bird, among others, were constantly relaying the often hilarious tales of how their nicknames came to be. Well, one drunken night in Memphis a couple years ago, my unusual nickname was born.

The company I was working for had a sales training session in Memphis, and on our last night, we decided to celebrate. After many drinks in several bars, the crowd whittled down to just Harry and I. We walked up and down Beale Street searching for a seemingly happening bar to end the night in. We stumbled across a dueling piano bar and decided to check it out.

Inside, we settled ourselves at the bar and watched the two men at facing pianos furiously play song after song, interjecting a little comedic banter in between verses. The beer was flowing and we were having a blast singing along to pop culture's best songs. The pianists started a familiar Elton John song and Harry began singing perverted alternate lyrics. "Obscene baby, skanky lady. I put my semen in her hand..." Being one to make up obscene lyrics myself, the wheels began turning. Harry kept singing. "Softly...slowly..." At that moment, in my drunken stupor, I busted out my own lyrics at the top of my lungs. "FUCK ME HARDER TINY DANCER!" Harry's eyes grew large and I swore the music stopped for a second while everyone in earshot turned to stare. My face grew hot and red as Harry burst into laughter. We laughed through the remainder of the song and continued throughout the rest of the night. Not long after our trip, Harry would periodically call or email and address me as TD. I started addressing his UPS packages with TD as the sender.

And so my nickname Tiny Dancer was born.

Open mouth, insert foot, and keep it there

2007-11-12T20:58:00.000-05:00

What is it with men and their need to tell me inappropriate things pertaining to my body??

First, there are the aforementioned audacious idiots assuming I am pregnant and actually mentioning it to my face. That in itself made me grimace at the awkwardness of having to tell them that I am, in no way, conceiving anything (except for extreme resentment). Then, today when I mention my new nutrition plan, the loose-lipped guy who rents from my boss scoffs at the idea and tells me the only thing that is big on me are my tits. More awkwardness ensues.

Can I get a W-T-F??

You might be an alcoholic when...

2007-11-11T21:12:00.000-05:00

Well, I already dropped the ball and missed two days of posting. In my defense, I haven't had a free minute to post, until now.

Friday night started out at Tijuana Flats with buckets of Miller Lite, followed by more buckets of Miller Lite at a different bar. It ended with buckets of Miller Lite and me escorting my friend through town just in case he wasn't as able to drive as he claimed. Highlights of the night included a guest appearance by Flava Flav, or rather his likeness (sans Viking horns and ginormous clock), and an overdressed snow queen in a furry white overcoat and furry, knee high lace-up boots (it was 60-something degrees in Florida!).

Saturday, Boo and I traveled to the other coast to attend the wedding of a high school friend of mine. It was beautiful weather for a road trip and an outdoor ceremony. The downfall of the afternoon came when we walked into a dry reception. We were looking forward to a traditional reception with cocktails and questionable dancing to more questionable party music. I guess they were going for a more low-key, Christian reception and alcohol-fueled attendees don't correspond with that. Regardless, the reception was charming and the food was good. We made it a little more than three hours before we made a beeline for the sports bar to catch the Gators game. Two-for-one beers never tasted better. Highlights of the night included a three game bowling shutout won by yours truly, and pissed off neighbors in the hotel when I attempted to prove how freakishly strong I am by initiating a drunken wrestling match.

Good times.

Tales from the Loser Lounge: The Time I Almost Got Detained in Canada

2007-11-09T01:35:00.000-05:00

My freshman year of college, I fell in love. As with the majority of the guys I have dated, he turned out to be a complete loser, but before he dumped me for sex with fat girls, skinny girls, ugly girls and a probable, but unconfirmed gay encounter, he was a good boyfriend for a hot second.

I'm not sure of the occasion, but Good Boyfriend for a Hot Second (GBHS) surprised me with a weekend trip to Montreal. Our college was located about 3 hours from Montreal in upstate Vermont, so we kicked off our weekend of fun with a road trip. We were closing in on the Canadian border when I made sure we weren't packing anything illegal such as guns, drugs, Mexicans, stolen babies, etc. GBHS, being a bit of a pot head, assured me we were all set.

A mile or so later, I was startled with an "OH SHIT!" Turns out, GBHS had forgotten about a stash of pills and such he had hidden in a baggie underneath the console liner. We were too close to the border to throw them out, and most of the time the border patrol bypassed searching vehicles, so we decided to leave them where they were. Well, lucky us, border patrol asked us to step out of the vehicle and wait inside. We shot each other panicked looks. My mind started racing with images of the two of us being cuffed and locked in one of those small detaining rooms, while ugly Canadians spit and shouted French in our faces.

They alerted us that they were performing a random bomb and drug swab to detect any possible traces of bomb or drug residue in the car. Fucking great. My pothead boyfriend smoked bushels in that car and let's not forget about the incriminating stash in the console. We watched as they searched and waited with bated breath. After what seemed like an eternity, they closed up the car and motioned for us to come out. I tried to read their stern faces. We were fucked...I just knew it. As we walked out, they opened the doors and thanked us. We both paused, half expecting them to slap cuffs on us when we tried to get in the vehicle.

As we drove away, I gave GBHS the die-in-a-fire look and didn't talk to him until he stopped so I could throw the baggie out. It took me the whole 3-hour car ride for me to stop fuming. Luckily, the rest of the weekend was pleasant, and our trip back over the border was much less eventful.

But seriously, do I know how to pick 'em??

Out of the Woodwork

2007-11-08T01:14:00.000-05:00

In my life, when it rains, it pours. If one guy comes crawling out of the woodwork and suddenly starts contacting me, I can almost count on another one doing the same. Lately, it has been no different. And to top it all off, I've been dreaming of exes that I haven't even thought about in ages. Do you know how unnerving it is when guys you haven't seen or spoken with in well over a year not only contact you, but start appearing in your dreams as well? It's effing freaky.

Do they make pesticides for that kind of thing? Douchebagicide? Oh, who am I kidding? If I'm likening them to bugs, they'll keep coming back...they always do!

Nip/Tuck me in

2007-11-07T01:48:00.000-05:00

I want to have Julian McMahon's babies. Apparently, Brooke Burns beat me to it, but damn, that man is the sweetest eye candy I've ever seen. And his backside should have it's own series. Seriously. An hour of Dr. Christian Troy's ass. In various positions. Who the hell needs porn!?

How's that for proof that I need some action?

Maybe I'm the Master of Disaster!?!

2007-11-05T22:20:00.000-05:00

Mick has remained pretty relentless since his last attempt at luring me. I have been guilty of returning texts, and in doing so, I'm probably leading him to believe there's still some interest on my end. And there really wasn't any...until (and I can't believe I am about to write this) I saw him on Halloween.

Good lord, I couldn't take my eyes off the man. He wasn't in costume, but he was in uniform. He was partaking in securing the block party we were at, as a good security officer does. His gray polo was hugging his biceps and his black pants were hugging his bum. I made myself blush when I found myself imagining what he would do with the handcuffs tucked into his belt. He did manage to ruin it a bit by bragging about his new F-250 truck and all the bells and whistles that I couldn't care less about. Apparently, that's a definite panty dropper in his eyes. Bragging doesn't drop my panties as much as putting me on the back of the bike and going real fast, but I digress.

I must be effing crazy, though. Have I not learned my lesson? Am I that superficial where I would overlook all his shortcomings because he's so damn easy on the eyes? It's scary because I don't know.

God, I suck sometimes!!

Just call me Miss Piggy

2007-11-04T23:21:00.000-05:00

I looooooooooove to eat and I guess it has been showing. I've started to notice that none of my clothes look right, and I often feel like a fat slob, although some people claim not to notice any weight gain (thanks for kissing my ass, by the way!). Additionally, my mom has been having back problems and the doctor told her losing weight would help. We decided that being fat sucks and dieting was the fast track to shedding some flab.

Starting tomorrow, we're on the 3-hour Diet. Basically, you eat as healthy as possible, but you eat every 3 hours: breakfast, snack, lunch, snack, dinner, and dessert. I've tried just about every diet you can imagine when I've wanted to lose a few pounds, none of which I have ever really stuck to. This seems like one I can live with solely for the fact that I can eat all day. It may take a little more planning and execution (I don't eat breakfast), but I'm excited to see how well it works. Here's to getting skinny!

Now only if I could muster up the gumption to get exercising regularly! Baby steps...baby steps.

Alcohol is a pain in my ass

2007-11-03T19:10:00.000-04:00

You know it was a crazy night when you wake up with some type of friction burn on your knee and there is a pain shooting from ass cheek to ass cheek with every step, but you don't remember a lick of anything.

Harry was visiting his buddy again and naturally, I went to spend quality time with him (read: stuffing our faces with sushi and getting piss drunk; it's a quarterly tradition). Where there's booze and a pool, there's naked cannonballs. Tequila does make my clothes fall off, I guess.

I can only assume that the friction burn on my knee is from scraping the bottom of the pool after an oh-so-graceful cannonball. As for the literal pain in my ass, I still haven't figured that one out. According to Harry's friend, I was pushed into the pool, coming uncomfortably close to smashing my noggin on the side, so I'm going with that explanation.

I am a horrible drunk.

Fuck 'em Friday Fiver

2007-11-02T19:25:00.000-04:00

In honor of having to post every day, I thought I'd bring back Fuck 'em Friday. Here are five of my life's little annoyances. TGIF kids!

1. The guy who rents warehouse space in our building has an eight-year-old daughter who is forced to amuse herself here when she gets out of school. Apparently, part of that consists of coming into our office to bug us, stealing candy from the candy jar, and wreaking havoc in the bathroom. I can only handle so many questions of why before I have to fight the urge to tell an eight-year-old to shut the hell up. And is it really appropriate to let your daughter run around barefoot in a warehouse, so she can spend fifteen minutes in the bathroom washing her feet and leaving a giant muddy puddle for me to slip on?

2. There is nothing worse than being mid-coitus and having him stop abruptly and declaring "I'm out of juice." Um, yeah, clearly I'm not. So could you kindly soldier on and finish what you started, because there WILL be a time when the roles are reversed and you surely don't want me to stop to declare anything of the sort, do you?

3. Traffic sucks. The snowbirds (a.k.a raisins, cotton heads, Q-tip heads, blue hairs, etc.) are coming back in droves and slamming on their brakes every mile of the way.

4. Money. I have none.

5. My face looks like that of a fifteen-year-old going through puberty. I've always struggled with bad skin, and contrary to my belief, it's not getting better as an adult. Short of taking Accutane and splashing pee on my face, I think I've tried everything for clearer skin. It would be nice to not have to wear makeup whenever I leave the house.

Me too

2007-11-01T16:19:00.000-04:00

Apparently, it's National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo). Since I haven't been challenging myself enough lately, I'm jumping on the bandwagon and attempting to post every day for the month of November. Now I can't promise it will be highly entertaining, or even intelligible, but it'll be fun to see what nonsense I am capable of producing under pressure. Let's do this!

*Did anyone else just now start singing Queen and David Bowie?

Lord of the Vile

2007-10-30T16:05:00.000-04:00

Every year, I get a little homesick at least once. I miss the quaintness of small town life, with the light traffic, Mom and Pop diners, tiny strip malls, and weekend road trips to the nearest shopping mall with brand name stores. But there is one thing I am always glad I don't have to deal with anymore...landlords.

Down here in the south, most apartment buildings are managed by companies and you rarely, if ever, have to deal with the landlord banging down your door at the exact minute your rent is due, or conveniently disappearing when your pipes freeze, or, in my case, just being really creepy.

My senior year of college, my best friend and I, in desperate need of a place to live off-campus, moved into a tiny two-bedroom apartment on the second floor of a really old house. We're talking from the 1800s, but that's neither here nor there. The landlord of this house was a hippie dentist who had his "practice" on the first floor. By hippie I mean he kept his long gray hair in dreads, braided his beard, and said things like "far out" or "groovy," and by "practice" I mean he had a dentist chair and other random dental equipment, all of which looked like it was from 1972, in one room of the horrifyingly cluttered first floor. We could never figure out why anyone would allow this man with dirty dreads to lean over their mouth using equipment that probably had been purchased secondhand. Rumor has it that he just recently had his license revoked, which makes me wonder how the hell he was able to practice dentistry for that long in the first place, but again, I digress.

Hippie Landlord immediately took a liking to us. At first, he was nice enough and we were friendly. He offered to pay us to help him clean up the third floor/attic which he had started renovating into a large studio apartment. We obliged and spent an entire afternoon vaccuming and scrubbing. Soon after, he would randomly stop by at weird hours, usually half drunk, and overstay his welcome by talking for far too long. After a rather strange evening of him sitting in our living room, slamming Amstels, voicing his close-minded opinion on gay sex and anal tearing (a total WTF!?! moment), we eventually learned to recognize his knock and stopped answering the door.

One night, a group of us met at our apartment all dressed up to go to dinner and Hippie Landlord stopped by unannounced as we were leaving. As my roommate and I exchanged irritated glances, he commented on how beautiful we all looked. I bit my lip trying not to laugh at his googly-eyed glances at all of us. He then turned to my roommate, looked her straight in the eyes, and told her he would love to take photographs of her in the attic. I lost it and ran into my room so he wouldn't see me in a fit of hysterics. I laughed until I cried, listening to my roommate tell him in an extremely disgusted tone that she would have to pass on his offer.

From that moment on, we avoided Hippie Landlord like the plague, talking to him only if absolutely necessary. Unfortunately for my roommate, after I graduated, she moved in with our friend who lived in another apartment in the same house, and had to deal with him for another whole semester. Adding to the creep factor, we recently realized, upon analyzing his tenant history in the four years we lived in the town and the few years after, Hippie Landlord rented to only females. There's no doubt in my mind that he had his reasons for choosing to rent only to girls. If only those attic walls could talk!

I curse you!!

2007-10-16T17:47:00.000-04:00

Friday night was a planned low-key night with my bff, Jill. Ok, that's not her real name, but that commercial is stuck in my head, mmkay? So, Jill and I went to the sports bar down the street to watch the Sox/Indians game. The guy I am dating (we haven't had the "talk" yet, so I can't label him my boyfriend just yet), who shall now be referred to as Boo (not because he's my "boo," but because he does a fantastic Pablo Francisco as Droopy Dog impression...booboobeeboo...ok, nevermind), stopped by the bar with his buddy. His buddy left to go home to his wife, so I drove Boo home. It was pretty obvious I was going to be staying the night, so I parked on the side of the street and followed him inside.

* * *

That morning, I wake up with the worst cramps of my life. Cursing my uterus, but relieved the bed did not resemble a murder scene, I throw on clothes and run out to my car for supplies. Close call, right? Yeah, but my car is not where I left it. Panicking, I run through the scenarios in my head. Stolen? Unlikely, since I had my keys and the doors were locked. Towed? Most likely, since the environmentalist Grass Nazis of the gated community patrol the area and remove anything touching a blade of grass. Cursing the Grass Nazis, I run inside to tell Boo the great news.

Forty-five minutes and $200 later, I've got my car. Cursing the towing company and their pocket raping, I start driving back to Boo's. My phone rings. It's Boo. His garage door opener is in his buddy's car, and the key to the locked front door is sitting inconveniently on the kitchen counter. But the best news of all? His tee time is in forty minutes, his buddy isn't answering his phone, so he has to drive twenty minutes to his house for the garage door opener. Cursing his buddy for being in a sleep coma, I haul ass to Boo's hoping the back slider was left open. No luck. The dog stares at me from inside. Cursing evolution, I find myself wishing dogs had opposable thumbs. I sit in my car and call my mother to relay the day's unfortunate events. As I dial, I glance at the clock, it's only 9:30am. Obviously, I curse.

Boo's Highlander comes screaming down the road and on to the lawn in front of the house. Yeah, fuck you Grass Nazis! His tee time is in ten minutes. We get inside, and he becomes a whirlwind of flesh, zipping around the house snatching up clothes, clubs, shoes, balls, and gloves. Within five minutes, his arms are full and he zips past me, planting something resembling a kiss on my lips before darting out the door. Exhausted and crampy, I fall on to the couch. My phone rings. It's Boo. I brace myself for more bad news. He tells me he ran out of gas. I freak out for a minute, but he starts laughing and I relax. Luckily, the car started sputtering right before he got on the interstate and he was able to roll into the nearest gas station. For once today, I have nothing to curse, and I am relieved.

* * *

The rest of the day went smoothly, despite the fact that I tried (and failed) to surprise Boo with dinner. I made lasagna and I had no idea he hates ricotta. Seriously, who hates lasagna? Bless his heart, he ate it anyway. And I will spare you the details of what happened when we tried to get freaky early Sunday morning. Let's just say I have dubbed it "Sunday, Bloody Sunday," the carpet may or may not need to be spot cleaned, and we learned that the shower is the most appropriate place for those particular activities at that particular time of the month.

Smart and Smarter (Asses)

2007-10-01T14:26:00.000-04:00

Should I find it dorky or kind of endearing that the guy I am dating, upon flying to San Diego to meet his buddy for the weekend, rented orange and blue tuxes à la Dumb and Dumber (sans top hats) to root for the Gators? God bless him, he even sent me a picture via cell phone, which I am having a hard time NOT sharing here. In addition to pissing off the many USC fans while rooting for the Gators in the sports bar, they also managed to win $1,000 at a casino playing blackjack. Apparently, everyone in San Diego found them highly entertaining, and the preposterous pair posed for no less than twenty or so pictures throughout the night. I'm not sure if I am jealous or thankful I missed out, but I can be sure of one thing. Life surely won't be dull with him around.

Savin' the drama for my llama

2007-09-25T19:19:00.000-04:00

For once in my life, I am drama-free. There aren't any sex-crazed men trying to seduce me. There aren't any habitual liars telling me dirty lies and pissing me off. There aren't any poor spelling, bad asses hooking up with me and my friends. Those f*ckers make up about 90% of what I write about, so needless to say, I don't have much material these days.

Oh, about there being no sex-crazed men trying to seduce me...I lied. There is one (and he's succeeding), but I'm not writing about him, because with my track record, writing about him will jinx it. Sorry to disappoint (oh, like you even care anyway), but if things continue to go well, I'll have no choice, since I clearly have nothing else of interest to write about.

Don't count on it.

2007-08-29T16:43:00.000-04:00

I swear that guys can sense when a woman has become unavailable, just like animals can sense fear. The other night I got a text from Mick (or, because of his MySpace name and his obvious fondness for wheelies, the boss and I like to refer to him as On One Wheel). We dated briefly last year, but I haven't heard from him since, aside from the occasional MySpace comment.

On One Wheel (9:41pm): What u up 2

Me (9:44pm): Having drinks with friends. What about you?

OOW (9:49pm): U get done and ur bored get ahold of me

OOW (10:09pm): U get that last text?

OOW (10:16pm): U not talking 2 me :(

OOW (10:43): I guess ur not talking 2 me. Whats up with that?

Ok, first of all, the desperation is a real turn-off. Secondly, the desperate attempt of getting me to call him reeks of booty call. Thirdly, I am just not interested because (a) he's a full-blown serial dater and has been in no less than three "relationships" in the past six months or so; (b) I am not looking to date anyone because I am totally into this new guy; and (c) I just couldn't handle this again. Am I lucky that he's such an asshat? Signs point to yes.

Ambiguously Vague Bimbo

2007-08-10T19:30:00.000-04:00

Recently, someone told me I am often ambiguous when it comes to demonstrating my feelings toward someone. This is someone I have been seeing for a few weeks, and while I commend his honesty, it definitely caught me off guard. I have been completely oblivious to my ambiguity and he is the first to make me aware. After some analyzing and one surprisingly useful internet quiz, I realize that not only am I ambiguous, but I am also ambivalent when it comes to relationships.

Shit.

After some thought, my ambiguity/ambivalence makes perfect sense because I am terrified of new relationships. Sure, the novelty and the giddy-as-a-schoolgirl feeling is great in the beginning, but then things move into the phase I like to call the "critical period." This occurs a few weeks into dating someone new. I've decided I'm totally digging this new guy and I'm walking on broken glass. It's a sensitive period because we're both getting to know one another, learning what makes one another tick, or better, what ticks the other off. Usually, it's at this point where things crash and burn, and I'm left wondering what the hell happened or where I went wrong.

After many instances of these crash and burn relationships, I've become a Pavlovian dog of sorts. I've been conditioned to expect the worst when presented with a potential relationship, so I inadvertently hold back in a feeble attempt to save face and some ego bruising. Thanks to my reluctance, I come across as ambiguous, where I don't really give any clues about my level of interest, or I come across as ambivalent, where sometimes I seem interested and sometimes not. Obviously, mixed signals suck, so this very well could be the main source (let's not include the plethora of assholes that were just that) of my relationship failures. What a vicious circle!

Clearly, I am in this exact situation now. Only recently (as in a few days), did I become completely certain he was for me. He's not the type I usually go for, and the Birkenstocks (sweetie, you're not a hippie!) made me cringe. But for once, I could overlook my predilection for bad boys and his questionable fashion sense (at least he didn't wear socks with them!). He's hilarious, outgoing, random, generous, affectionate, his sense of humor and personality complement mine, and the guy obviously needs my expertise in men's fashion. And of course, the more I realize I like him, the more I want to protect myself from getting hurt. So, while it is scary and anxiety-inducing, I have to let my guard down if I want this to go anywhere. I sure as hell don't want him to go anywhere, so the wall is coming down...brick by brick.

Where's the Paxil?

What's up Preggo?

2007-07-24T13:47:00.000-04:00

Since when did it become customary for men to make comments about a woman's weight? Particularly, asking a woman if she is expecting when you just aren't sure is plain rude.

I'm around 5' 8" and of average weight. I happen to carry any extra weight in my stomach and chest while the rest of me is relatively thin (read: I have a little ass and really skinny legs). Apparently, gaining a few extra pounds makes men assume I am pregnant. Clearly, a little belly flab means I am with child since I'm not an all around fatty.

Why, WHY would you ask the question if you aren't 100% sure? It's a sensitive subject. Are you gay? No? Oh, I just assumed you were since you have such feminine features. Small penis? No? Oh, I just figured since your hands are so damn small! See? It's just not something you do.

Looks like it's time to go on a diet before I start receiving blankets and diapers as gifts.

Who You'd Be Today

2007-07-16T14:00:00.000-04:00

My first slow dance, all 8 minutes and 57 seconds of "November Rain," was with him.

He was my first real kiss. Once, on the way home from a school dance, sitting in the back of the bus, we were dared to kiss for ten miles.

He used to let me borrow his puffy Chicago Bulls Starter jacket and wear it all day. Sometimes, he would even let me wear it home.

For Christmas, he gave me a silver herringbone necklace, even though we were only 11.

At school, we used to write silly notes back and forth all day long (some of which I still have). He even made up a fictitious character, Bob, based on his fondness for Bob Hope.

He was the first to get to "second base" with me as we lay in our friend's cabin behind his house. Later that night, my girl friend and I tried, with no luck, to sneak out of her house so I could spend just ten more minutes with him.

Today is the 13th anniversary of his death. I haven't visited his grave in a very long time, but I will never forget the date. He isn't the only one of my former classmates to pass away, but he is the one that I think about most often and most fondly, always wondering who he'd be today.

Jesse Vernon Riggs, I miss you every day.

Confessions of a Philanderer

2007-06-20T19:45:00.000-04:00

"I hate drama."

Really? You do? Is that why you started hanging out with (and quite possibly fucking) your good friend's ex-girlfriend? And I know continually talking to your self-proclaimed psycho ex-girlfriend doesn't create any drama at all.

"I've only slept with like, two or three girls."

Well, is it two or is it three? Wouldn't you remember the exact number since it is only two or three? Or can you not count that high yet? Nice try, though.

"I don't know why girls assume I am a bad ass. I am actually a good guy with a good heart."

Hahaha! Oh, that wasn't a joke? Well, for starters, the non-stop drinking, smoking and partying aren't helping your image. You surely didn't showcase your "goodness" when you met me out at the bar, and brought along that girl who was all up on your nuts. And a "good hearted" guy doesn't call any woman a "fat whore" (or anything comparable), even if she rightfully deserves it.

"Why did you let me make out with that girl on the dance floor?"

Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was in charge of your extracurricular activities while you are drunk. Well, in that case, since I was clearly not doing my job, that absolves you of looking like a complete scumbucket.

Back at it

2007-06-11T10:29:00.000-04:00

After sleeping on air mattresses and twin beds for two weeks, it's fabulous to be home sleeping in my own bed, even if I only slept it in twice since I got home Friday. The trip was an experience to say the least...

The evening we arrived at my cousin's house in Connecticut, the whole family got together for a mean game of wiffleball. And by mean, I'm talking about diving for second base, and screwing up my knee bad enough that I was hobbling for days.

My brother showed up at the family reunion looking like a crack head. His eyes were sunken in, and his teeth looked like they were starting to decay. He has always been kind of a bum since I can remember, using drugs and unable to maintain a job, but lately, he is looking worse for wear. My religious uncle preached to him and provided him with Christian-based reading material, which I know went straight to the trash. He just might be beyond help.

My religious family coerced us into going to church. I'm not a church goer and neither are my parents. My father managed to get himself out of going by playing the sick card. I wore jeans because I had nothing else. I had to refrain from speaking on the way to and from the church, since I have such a potty mouth. What a disgrace we were.

I went to a party at a friend's house in Maine. We went to high school together, but never really hung out back then. I got completely liquored up thanks to shots of Patron, and I woke up in his bed with my bra unhooked. Panic ensued (I mean, he's decent enough, but not enough for that!). He assured me that nothing bad happened, and he had rubbed my back for approximately a minute before I passed out cold. I told him that if anything else had happened, it must've not been that good, since I didn't remember any of it. Not hesitating, he assured me that I would have DEFINITELY remembered it. Aww, it was just like high school all over again!

My dog got sprayed by a skunk. I had to bathe her in white vinegar and shampoo until the smell dissipated. She was not impressed as that was her third bath in as many days, since she couldn't stop rolling or getting into really stinky things.

On the way home, on the last stretch of I-75, we stopped for gas and my father grabbed some drinks out of the cooler in the back of the truck. Twenty minutes later, as we were flying down the highway, I noticed the back of the cap was wide open, with our luggage and belongings in danger of toppling out on to the road. We pulled over and it turned out that not only the cap was open, but the gate was also down with the cooler teetering on the edge. Luckily, nothing fell out, and we had a good laugh at my father's expense.

It is safe to say, I definitely won't be driving (or riding) from Florida to Maine anytime in the near future. If I'm traveling 1,600 miles, I'm flying! Screw this driving business.

I Quit

2007-05-23T15:10:00.000-04:00

I am officially quitting the cancer sticks as of tomorrow...cold turkey.

Oh, did you know...the etymology of "cold turkey" most likely derives from the phrase talk turkey, in which someone deals matter-of-factly with a subject. Some, however, believe the derivation is from the comparison of a cold turkey carcass and the state of a withdrawing addict — most notably, the cold sweats and goose bumps. It is often preceded by the verb "to go," as in "going cold turkey." Thanks Wikipedia! End tangent.

I (re) started smoking a couple years back, after having quit when I was in college, to see if I could drop a few pounds. Dumb idea, I know. It didn't work. Then, it turned into more of a relaxation aid, especially in the car. And even more so when I am out drinking. It's never the nicotine that I crave, but more the soothing effect it has, because when I'm not stressed or wanting to relax, I never feel the need to smoke. There are much better ways to de-stress and relax than smoking up my lungs. Tequila also works great! But, then there's that whole drinking and driving thing to deal with, but I digress.

Also, I am embarking on a two week trip with the parentals who don't know about the whole smoking thing. Oh, and starting next week at work, we'll be in a brand new office, so we can't smoke in there like we can in this shithole warehouse. I'm not really one for going outside every couple hours just to have a smoke. You could call that being lazy, but I call it another really good reason/excuse to just quit. So, here I am, smoking my last few cigarettes, wishing them well in their future endeavors of blackening someone else's lungs. Yay for me.

Whore-oscopes

2007-05-18T19:37:00.000-04:00

I am a bit of a horoscope whore and read them incessantly. I don't necessarily believe in everything they say, but it's fun to see what the stars supposedly have in store for me according to the time of year I was born. I checked my horoscope for this weekend and it kinda freaked me out.

Friday, May 18, 2007
If you are all set to go to a party or social event, then expect more than you bargained for. The current astral configuration implies that you could well meet up with a person who will prove to be a real novelty, and who can also offer you many new experiences. You will have to let go of everything you thought you knew to be able to accept more.

As a matter of fact, I am going out tonight. I am meeting up with a friend who has expressed interest in me, so we'll see how that pans out. So far, he does seem like he would be a real novelty, but I can't tell for sure. However, letting go of everything I thought I knew is a bit of a scary thought for me. I've become a bit cautious when it comes to men, so throwing caution to the wind is like jumping from a plane and praying I land safely. Scary!

Satruday, May 19, 2007
There may be the chance of a fresh, new beginning in terms of your love life, especially with today's astral energy. If you have recently just finished one relationship and had decided to stay single for a while, then you may have a surprise in store, as someone else marches into your life pretty quickly. You will be amazed at how fast the whole thing takes off.

Yes, I have recently just finished a relationship and decided to stay single for awhile. How did you know!? And what is this surprise you speak of? This also scares me a bit, as I'm not sure I am ready for someone to come marching into my life just yet. Especially if he's unannounced and unexpected. Knock first, ok? I guess I've just become so guarded and choose to test the water before diving in. But I suppose it's the unexpected things that make life more interesting, right?

You're a video game nerd when...

2007-05-16T12:01:00.000-04:00

...these make you laugh.

I laughed. Is that considered weird or cool because I'm a chick?

There really is a handbook!?

2007-05-10T15:29:00.000-04:00

For all the women who wish that men could take boyfriend lessons, there is a handbook now! A Practical Handbook for the Boyfriend basically spells out how to be a good boyfriend. Now where the hell was this book for the past eight years? Lord knows the men in my past could've used it (although, I'm not entirely sure some of them could even read)! I wonder how many women will inconspicuously leave this lying around for their boyfriends to find, and how many men will actually venture out to purchase it for themselves. I'm guessing it will be a good read for both men and women. Even Lindsay Lohan was spotted carrying around the book. Although, she probably just needed a flat surface to snort on.

Are you trying to make me vomit??

2007-05-09T21:54:00.000-04:00

Gross Loser Customer (GLC) Who Hits On Me: Happy almost Mother's Day!

Me: Um, thanks, but I'm not a mother.

GLC: Someone could probably help you out with that.

Me: Yeah, no thanks.

GLC (on the way out): Well, Happy almost Mother's Day again!

Me: Mmm hmm.

GLC: Really, I could help you out with that mother thing...

Me: ...

GLC: Hahahaha! I'm only kidding! Well, kinda. Hahaha! Bye!

More Cruelty

2007-05-07T12:42:00.000-04:00

Not only did I not get to see Kenny Chesney in Key West when I was a mere hour away, I also didn't score any tickets to see him in Tampa at the beginning of June. I am part of the fan club that allows members to buy tickets before they go on sale to the general public. All I managed to pull up were nosebleed seats. Call me selfish, but I really can't justify spending the money to watch him as a little speck on the stage.

THEN, to add insult to injury, my cousin who drives a tractor trailer around the country, ran into Kenny's tour bus at a truck stop in New Mexico this morning. Knowing that I heart Kenny, he asked the driver if there was any way he could score an autograph for me. The driver told him Kenny would most definitely oblige, if he wasn't fast asleep on the bus. DAMMIT!

I'm totally being screwed with.

Dear _______

2007-04-19T18:45:00.000-04:00

Dear Cigarettes,
I am breaking up with you soon. I'm not telling you when, just know that I am. I'm sorry, but you are polluting me.

Dear Sushi Chef at Publix,
The spicy rolls were excellent today.

Dear Bakery at Publix,
Make more Heath Crunch cookies! I don't frequent your section very often, but when I do, all I ask is that the Heath Crunch cookies are not all gone EVERY. SINGLE. TIME!

Dear Money,
Could you please tell me where you disappear to every week?

Dear Not to Be Trusted,
Remember your Hot (Ex) Neighbor I liked? I know you made out with him. You knew at the time that I liked him. I asked H(Ex)N and he tried to deny it, but I can smell a lie from a mile away and he eventually admitted it. Good thing. Luckily, not long after, I met someone else who made all this seem insignificant. But I still can't ever trust you.

Dear Good Guy,
I don't know if you know already, but I think you are amazing. You notice all the details and the little things that make me smile. I really am grateful to have met you.

Friday the 13th...eek!

2007-04-13T11:35:00.000-04:00

It's 8:30am and I just now realized it's Friday the 13th. Maybe because my Friday the 13th came a bit early. Apparently, my bad luck is a little premature and came yesterday. Figures...dysfunctional Friday the 13th...why can't you just come at the right time?! No, you have to blow your load of bad luck before I am even prepared for you.

Typical.

So yesterday...I burned my elbow with my curling iron (brilliant, no?), left my car window open on the one night it pours so my ass is wet when I get to work, lose my keys in the tightest, most inaccessible spot in the car and then I get my arm stuck trying to retrieve the lost keys. I'll be rotting at my desk all day, so I think I am safe from any further bad luck today. Although, the boy and I are road tripping to Gainesville tonight, and driving on I-75 is a gamble on any given day, let alone on Friday the 13th. Guess I'm gonna have to bust out the lucky g-string!

Decisions, Decisions

2007-04-04T14:35:00.000-04:00

So, what's a girl to do?!?

P.S. I picked the good guy.

Cruelty

2007-03-06T13:16:00.000-05:00

I have finally recovered from an alcohol soaked weekend in Islamorada. I can't say much about it except that we had a blast. However, our last night there, I was informed that Kenny Chesney was playing in Key West (about an hour south of where we were). Anyone that knows me, knows that Kenny is my absolute favorite. What a cruel joke! It was way too late and I was way too drunk to make the trip. I was crushed. So what did I do? I drowned my disappointment in more shots and beer. Tequila loves me even if fate and fortuity don't!

Lookin' back now, it makes me laugh

2007-02-27T16:31:00.000-05:00

You know that one person from your past who first stole your heart and didn't return it whole? That one person; the one who never wandered far from your thoughts or dreams, even after they caused you such heartache...your first true love.

Mine got married.

I always dreaded the moment I would hear such news, because he still had a piece of my heart (and somewhere, a tiny violin starts playing). I didn't want him to be committed, because I secretly hoped we would somehow be reunited, and being wiser and matured, he could have all of my heart in return for his (*rolls eyes*).

We had been in touch through emails, all the past awkwardness forgotten. We caught up on each other's lives; me about to graduate college, him back and forth to Iraq. I had even been in touch with his mother (who, by the way, cried harder than I did during the breakup) when she emailed me out of the blue. It felt nice to be back in touch. At some point, the emails became infrequent and then finally ceased. After a few unresponded emails, I gave up.

To my own surprise, I never even blinked an eye when I heard he got married. Maybe I had gotten the closure I needed, or maybe at this point, years later, it just wasn't significant to me anymore. Either way, I can honestly say it didn't affect me. If someone had told me the same thing years earlier, I probably would've stopped eating for a week (ew, pathetic!). Now, it was just as if someone had told me Britney Spears was pregnant again. No surprise there.

...and I threw a little party. For once, my brain and heart were in agreement!

And how awesome is it that I just compared my ex love to Britney's uterus? Yep, I pretty much rock.

Why I find my job hilarious (and other musings)*

2007-02-21T13:54:00.000-05:00

A guy comes in asking if I have any fire caulk. Say that aloud.

I was also asked how much caulk comes in a box. Well, obviously it depends on the type and size of the caulk...and the dimensions of the box.

Today I announced that my hands were covered in nut grease. Woops.

Someone called asking if I had stainless nuts. No, but I bet the bed sheets would thank me if I did.

A guy called and told me he was looking for a certain screw. Aren't we all? A stainless screw would be nice, no?

I was once asked if I specially cut rod. Ouch, no.

Imagine my amusement when a guy came in telling me he wanted to put a strap on wood to wood and asked what size strap I would recommend. Let's just say I'm not so familiar with that type of thing, but they say bigger is better!

* Yep, my mind never strays far from the gutter!

The Magic Number

2007-02-02T16:34:00.001-05:00

What would give a guy the insane idea that I would reveal my "number" to him. Isn't that like #3 on the list of things to never ask a woman (#2 being her weight and #1, her age)? And it wasn't like he was hinting at it...he blatantly asked me what it was. Like we ever tell the truth anyway. It just came across tacky and rude regardless of what the intention was. The number of people I have slept with is no use to anyone but myself. Maybe the more appropriate question would have been whether or not I get tested for STDs regularly. At least that would've earned him points for being cautious and responsible.

Tact gentleman, it's all about being tactful!!

So when you say "secure," you mean not?

2007-01-29T21:59:00.001-05:00

A few days ago, my credit card company called me. At the time, I didn't know it was them calling and I wasn't in a place where I could take a call, so I let it go to voicemail. I'm the type of person who forgets they have voicemail, and even though I see that little 'v' at the top of my cell phone screen, I won't be prompted to check my voicemail until days later. Although, this way, when I tell people I never got their voicemails, I am technically not lying, but that's irrelevant.

So yesterday, I log on to my credit card website to pay the bill. I log in as normal, but it tells me I can't access my account information until certain charges are validated. This, and only this, prompts me to check my voicemails (I will return your call ASAP). Sure enough, one is from the credit card company wanting to validate charges. Hmm...I might want to make a note of checking my voicemails more often. Anyway, on the website, they gave me a link to visit for fraud protection. I click on the link and it brings me to a site to verify information. At this point, I am paranoid that someone has stolen my information and at that moment, is logging every single keystroke. I verify all my important information (so my identity will be THAT much easier to steal...I mean they have the last four digits of my social!) and it brings up two different charges made to my account that needed to be validated. Both are almost exactly the same amount, around $84, were made out of the country at an Esso station, and were made on the same day. I haven't been out of the U.S. in years, and I have nowhere to put $168 in gas, so it's safe to say that someone stole my credit card number.

The big question is how the hell did it get stolen? My card is still in my wallet, and hardly ever leaves my wallet. The last time I used it was around Christmas...online. Now the websites I purchased from were all secure sites...at least I thought. I mean, doesn't that little yellow lock thing at the bottom of the screen mean it is secure from gas guzzling foreigners wanting to steal my credit card number?? Either way, I'm confused and really paranoid. I mean someone could be in the process of stealing my whole identity...or my whole life...which doesn't really amount to much financially, but still!! WTF!?