Well, That Sucks

I honestly can't remember the last time I had an actual crush on an actual guy. I've had plenty of celebrity  crushes, sure, but I haven't met a guy in a long time that I really fell for, you know. And, that was something that I was kind of proud of; I felt like... I don't know... like I was safe. I can't explain it. If I don't crush on some guy, I can't break my own heart because he doesn't know I exist.

Anyway, I goofed.

Remember the nerd squad from my Milton class? Well, I've had a particular thing for one of them since the beginning of the semester, but I didn't really think about it. Sure, I thought he was the cutest. Sure, I'd daydream about him sometimes. Sure, I listened to what he was saying. Sure, I wanted him to notice me. But it wasn't anything more than a slight attraction. Right?

Nope. I realized yesterday when I caught myself really wanting to tell E---- all about him that it was a full blown crush.

Worse, the semester is almost over. Meaning that after the second week of December, I'll probably never see him again. Which sucks. Because I really like him. Ugh. Why did I decide to grow feeling now?

So, I admit that I have a crush on M----, and that I foresee myself needing ice cream to recover. But hey, maybe I'll get lucky. Maybe I'll get the guy for once. Haha. That's so unlikely I can't type it with a straight face. I'll let you know when I start my therapy session with Doctors Ben and Jerry. 

Why do guys suck at communicating?

Tonight, I got a message from a guy on OKC. It was all totally grammatically incorrect, but the English translation was basically he thought I was cute, wanted to talk, and he had just come home from a tour in Afghanistan a few days ago, so his profile was lacking.

So, I responded that I was doing well, getting ready for vacation, welcomed him home, and asked if he was glad to be home.

He responded that he was really glad. Period. That was it.

I waited a while, decided I'd just let it go, then, decided it would be rude not to respond. So, then I asked what he planed to do now that he's back.

Relax. As much as possible. That was his response.

How am I supposed to respond to that? Oh, well, that's nice? Do guys not know that you have to give the other person something to go on?

I mean, it would be one thing if I had contacted him first, and he was just responding to be polite, but, no, he started it! So, why did he act like it was a burden, and a boring one, to talk to me?

If you want to talk to me, fine. If you don't, then don't start a conversation. I'm not going to chase someone, or beg them to talk to me. I want a relationship, but I'm not desperate. I've got too much pride for that.

Warning: Angry Word Vomit

I have nothing to share.

Sorry. What can I say? 

My parents are getting divorced. I think I just broke up with one of my friends because I can't deal with the kind of maintenance the relationships requires. I have to write a gajillion papers. Money is tighter than a hipster's pants. I work 950 hours a week.

So, please, tell me when I'm supposed to be looking for Mr. Right? Hell, when am I supposed to look for Mr. Right-Now?

I guess, really, what I'm saying is this: if one more person tells me that I need to put more effort into finding a boyfriend right now in my life, I'm going to go ape-shit.

Yes, I'm single. Yes, I would love to have someone who cares for and supports me that I can, in turn, care for and support. But you know what? That doesn't just jump out of the bushes when you walk down the street. It takes looking to find a guy worth the effort, and right now, time is what I just don't have.

I'm not giving up, my eyes are still peeled. I just needed to vent that because I hate the way people who have never in their lives been totally single with no one at all interested in them think they can tell me (and people like me) that we should just get significant others. As though we can go to Target and pick one up. 

They're people. Not tampons. He has to like me. And I have to like him. It doesn't work one-way. I like Adam Levine. He's not my boyfriend. See how that works?

Oh, and if I happen to be ringing a cute guy up, I don't need anyone standing over my shoulder watching ("helping") so they can tell me what I did wrong. I don't need anyone telling me that I let my future walk out the door, or that he drove away in a BMW with an UoAlabama Alumni tag on it. 

Honestly, yeah, he was cute, but U------ stood there and starred at me, so I already felt super uncomfortable. Then, while he was actually checking out, he didn't make eye contact with me. Not once. That's rude. So, I don't are how many nice cars or degrees he has, if he can't treat a cashier like a person, then I'm in no way interested. 

So, there it is: my super explosion. If you read the whole thing, you should get a cookie. I apologize. I'll go back to just noting random hot guys now.

A Little Flirting on the Clock

As you've probably noticed, I pretty much spend all my time at work. In consequence, most of the interesting interaction I have with the opposite sex occur when I'm on the clock.

One night, a week or so ago, this really cute guy who works at the supermarket behind the pharmacy I work in, came in to buy some cigarettes on his break. He was tall, tan, sandy haired, and blue-eyed with a smooth, sweet smile, so I promptly melted into an awkward puddle of goo.

I smiled at him, and just checked him out as I would anyone else, because, let's face facts, I suck at flirting. So, imagine the way my heart fluttered when he asked me how my night was going, after we were done with our transaction. Be still my beating heart!

We talked for a few minutes, albeit awkwardly, until the old lady who was passive-aggressively looking at the candy bars made things feel really weird. He told me to have a good night, gave me one last smile (to make sure I was good and melted, I'm sure), and walked out the door.

Apparently, forever, because he hasn't been back. At least not on any of my shifts. Which sucks. Because while I suck at flirting, I'd really like to give awkward small talk with him another try.

By the way, his name was S------, on the off chance that I get to write a sequel to this post. (But I never do, so don't hold your breath.)

(Not so) Random Cute Guy(s) Sighting: Nerd Squad Edition

This semester I'm taking a 400 level class on Milton, and there are a couple of really cute super nerds in my class. It's a really small class, so we all talk before class begins, and everyone always says something to the effect of "I really don't want to be here." But, for me, I'm happy to be there because the Nerd Squad is adorable!

There's M----, the tat'ed, pierced, cool-looking guy who studies Latin and philosophy.
There's S---, the adorable dork who seems like he would hold your hand and do cute couple-y stuff without being forced.
There's L----, the ironically hip, quiet guy who is really entertaining when he speaks.
And, there's M---, the sincerely intelligent, average guy.

I don't actually know any of their relationship statuses, but they like Supernatural, Doctor Who, Syfy, and Paradise Lost. So, basically, they're all boyfriend material. Which probably means they're all very, extremely taken.

Also, I sincerely hope (though it's highly unlikely) that if any of them were to see this, they would be flattered and not creeped out.

Please forgive my absence!

I know it's been a while since I posted anything new. I'm sorry! My life has been hectic for the last month or so, and it hasn't left much time for me to think, let alone blog. I won't bore you with details, but I just started a new semester, and my home life has been in an upheaval.

So, my non-existent love-life has been even more non-existent. Not to worry, though! U------ and E---- have got my back. U------ has chosen a new hair color and given comments or a new style for me to try. And, E---- has a friend who might know someone that they could set me up with, maybe.

I'm getting my hair done Saturday, and I promise I'll post a pic. As for the ever elusive set up, your guess is as good as mine.

Shoutout to the Couple with the Lovely Wedding Party

Happy one week anniversary to the couple who got married on August 17, and had a lovely weeding party.

First, one of the bridesmaids came in wearing her bridesmaid dress. While it wasn't to my personal taste, it was pretty, and she looked pretty in it. She was buying condoms because the bride had forgotten to during the pre-wedding shopping trip. That cracked J---- and me up, so we laughed with her and told her to have fun and wish them luck.

Then, maybe fifteen minutes later, the groomsmen all came in looking sharp in their three-piece suits. I think men should always dress like that, because a nice suit makes guys who are just so-so look suddenly sexy. On top of all being cute, they were pleasant and funny.

My favorite was the one worried about the wrinkles in his suit coat. He was the last one out, and the cutest. I told him nobody would be looking at the groomsmen, that they were just there to take up space and keep the groom from bolting, which was funny because I couldn't stop looking at them. Then, we talked about how best he might be able to mix the Coke Zero he was buying with some Jack and sneak it into the wedding. He laughed and joked along, so he gets points for pretending I was witty.

Anyway, congratulations to the happy couple, your friends were really entertaining!

Random Cute Guy Sighting

There's a HEMSI driver that has come in at work to buy a snack on his break a couple of times in the last week or so, and he's a cutie. He's got a sweet smile and a good sense of humor. Just thought you should know.

For the Very First Time

Friday night, for the very first time, I felt like maybe a guy regretted not getting me when he had the chance.

I was at work (when am I not?), and I looked up and saw a guy I recognized from high school, so I said to J----, "Look, I went to high school with that guy," with the intent to fill her in on his reputation for being a druggie after he walked out.

Then, I saw the guy who was with him. J---- (the second guy) had been walking behind C----, so I hadn't seen him at first. You need some background on J----. He also went to high school with us, but he was a couple years older than me. I knew and liked him then because we were in the drama club (Thespian Society) together, and he was really funny. But then, as now, he was sort of in a different subclass than I was and am. Then, he was a wild, super outgoing guy who had a reputation for drinking and doing pot, and I was a quiet, band-geek/drama-nerd, teacher's daughter with a smart mouth if you were standing close enough to hear me. So, we ran in totally different circles.

Anyway, I looked up and saw him, and smiled because I recognized him, and told them both to have a good night. C---- didn't even look at me, but J---- smiled and said, "You, too." Then, he actually looked at me and kind of stopped. He smiled and kept walking, but then when he got past the inner door, he stopped again, and looked back at me. I made eye contact and grinned because I knew he was trying to place who I was in my head.

I guess something clicked, because he got this great big grin on his face, and came back though the door. He said, "Hey, fellow Thespian!" I said hey back, and walked over to where he had stopped by the door that leads behind the counter.

When I stopped in front of him, his eyes when up and down me, and his pupils dilated a little. He gave me an awkward sort of compliment, and the accompanying gesture was one that led me to believe he was really thinking about what it would be like to put his hands on me. Then, he said, "I recognized your voice while I was back there," gesturing toward the pharmacy. "I just heard a familiar voice, and then here you were."

Now, I don't know if that was actually true or not, but I do know that I have a fairly memorable voice, so I won't call bullshit on it.

Then, he said, "I don't know if you want to hug me or not, I been doing some scuzzy work..." He kind of held his arms out and shrugged.

He did look dirty, but I smiled, told him I didn't care, and hugged him. One-armed, but chest-to-chest. I'm lead by some magazine articles to believe that that is a significant detail.

It was a quick hug, and he didn't grope me, or anything. Then, he told me to have a good night and weekend, kind of awkwardly, like he would have liked to stay longer, but C---- had gone outside before J---- had even stopped to talk. But he was looking back the whole time he was walking out.

And I ate it up! I loved the way he looked at me liked something he wanted made me feel. I felt sexy in a way I never have before. And, to be quite honest, even though I'm about 98% sure he was buying Sudafed with which to manufacture meth, I can't say that I would have said no. I mean, I don't think I would have slept with him, but in the mood I was in after the week I had, I definitely wouldn't have turned down a mauling. Hey, he's still a bad boy, and I'm still young enough to want to try that, maybe.

So, that's the story of how I entertained the thought of a torrid make-out session with a druggie. So much for having standards.

Crush-worthy Guy Alert

There's this guy that has a PO Box at the Post Office station in our store, and I think I could really be in danger of having an actual crush on him. He's young, probably late twenties, and nice looking. His hands are rough and usually dirty from work, He owns his own landscaping business. And on top of owning a fairly successful business of his own, he comes from money, so my inner gold-digger is intrigued. Beyond that, though, he seems like a really nice, down-to-earth kind of guy. He's polite and always speaks when he sees one of us that work in the store.

Unfortunately, I've got no idea how to get him talking. I know that once he gets started, getting him to stop is a chore, but I can't get a conversation going. So, I guess I'll just settle for smiling at him everyday and giving him his change. Mine is a pathetic way of life.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way Home From the Beach

This is the last story I need to relate about my beach trip. After this, I'll speak of it no more. Maybe. :)

A--- and I drove down in my car (read: I drove, A--- rode) so that there were two cars with us at the beach, and so that I did not have to ride in the car with C------ for six hours. So, naturally, A--- and I came back together.

We decided we were hungry around normal people lunch time, found an exit with several options, and pulled into a Burger King. Our meal was fine, nothing out of the ordinary. I was so hungry that it didn't even matter that I don't like Burger King.

Anyway, we filled up our cups for the road, and walked out into the witheringly hot afternoon. Two BK employees were standing by the door taking a smoke break. One of them started talking to us. He asked how we were, and we said fine. He asked if we were from there, where ever there was, and we said no, so he asked where we were from. I told him Huntsville as I dropped my purse while trying to fish my keys out of it.

"Oh, yeah, up Madison County. Huntsvegas!"

That made me stop and look up because I've never heard anyone not from HSV or the surrounding area call it Huntsvegas. I asked if he was from here, and he said no, but he had some friends up here.

Finally, I got my hands on my keys and the doors unlocked. As we were ducking into the car, the guy said, "So, uh, can I get a phone number, so I can holler at ya when I'm up there?"

A--- slid into the car, and I smiled and said, "Sorry, no."

When I got in, she was laughing. "I wonder if they know their employees are in the parking lot harassing customers on their break."

"We should go through the drive through and tell them," I laughed as we pulled off with the guy still watching us.

So, it's not true that I never get hit on. It is true that I never get hit on by guys that I would actually date.

Love Connection via DrawSomething?

While we were at the beach, A---, B----, C------ (whom I still don't like and hope never to have to deal with again), and I spent a collective total of almost $200 on booze. By Friday night, we had gone through most of it, but still had plenty to fuel one more drunken evening.

A couple hours in, A--- remembered that she had been playing DrawSomething with one of her other friends... two weeks ago. So, she started playing on her phone. One of her opponents told her that she was cute, and she told him she was drunk, so, of course they started flirting.

I'm not sure how long they flirted because my evening ended about an hour earlier than everyone else's because I had to start my three hour long retching-vomiting-dying session.

Anyway, the next morning, while we were making breakfast (I didn't have a hangover mostly because after three hours of throwing up everything but my soul, that would have been karmic-ly unjust), A--- remembered her drunken flirtation, and that he had given her his email.

So, of course, she searched the email on Facebook.

Turns out, he's married. With kids. Classy.

But props to A--- for her close brush with cyber-age romance.

Beach Vacation Wrap Up

In case you don't follow the Tumblr (http://manhuntingexpeditions.tumblr.com/) or the Twitter (https://twitter.com/mhxguide), I spent the last week at the beach. Also, you should follow the Tumblr and Twitter. Just sayin'.

Anyway, I'd like to comment on a couple of things about my trip.

1. The shocking lack of attractive man sightings. It was heart-breaking. The only reason someone like me goes to the beach is for the man candy, so, it was a disappointment on the manhunting front.
2. I don't handle alcohol well. At least not large amounts of it in a single sitting. So, I think that I will stick to just a couple of chick drinks now and then. Because vomit is not attractive.
3. Finally, I'd like to laud the accomplishments of a pizzeria we ate at while we were there. It was freaking amazing, fantastic, Delicious, yummy, and all other positive adjectives. The name of it was Rotolo's, and if you're ever in Orange Beach, AL, you should try it. I had a calzone the size of my head, B---- had a seemingly endless bowl of pasta, and A--- had a super colorful garden salad. Here's the website:  http://www.rotolos.com/

There are a couple of incidents that I'm going to cover in separate posts, but for the most part, my vacation was blissfully uneventful. We played on the beach, ate good food, drank too much, and spent too much money, but it was worth it.

The Second First Date

Well, my date with R----- was... nice? He was sweet and cute, but there wasn't a lot of connection there, maybe. Or maybe we were both nervous and incapable of holding conversation.

We had agreed to meet at BridgeStreet which is this sort of classy outdoor mall with European style architecture (it's really pretentious, now that I think about it.) at 4 on Wednesday. So, of course, it was storming at 4 on Wednesday. He brought an umbrella, though, and proceeded to hold it over both of us any time we were outside.

Dinner was ok. We ate at Red Robin, and talked awkwardly about our jobs, what we think of the area, and sports. He works logistics for the army, thinks HSV is a kind of boring city made up of mostly married people, and loves baseball and thinks hockey's boring. I work retail, think HSV is boring as hell no matter what your relationship status is, and freaking love hockey and hate baseball with an unnatural passion. Also, he is Puerto Rican, which is really neither here nor there for me on the attractiveness scale, but it reminded me of FL, so it was nice to hear his accent.

After dinner, we checked the showtimes at the movie theatre, but nothing was showing until late. He mentioned renting a Redbox movie, but I stepped around that because he's a guy I met on the internet and know nothing about, like hell am I going to his house. So, we went to sit in the bookstore and talk. Would have been a great idea, except we had already talked about everything at dinner.

So, after another half hour of awkward conversation, he said that BridgeStreet was really boring, and I said that I should probably get home since there was a flash flood warning for the county I live in. It was true, the radio had said so before I met him, but there's always a flash flood warning for my county when it rains, so it was really no big deal. I was just totally out of things to talk about and a little tired of hearing about the clubs in different cities that he likes.

He texted me to make sure I got home safe and to say it was nice to meet me. Then, a few hours later, I got a text with a picture of him in it like the kind that guys put on dating sites, you know, of themselves in front of the bathroom mirror dressed well for no apparent reason. It was a group message, and I sent a question mark back because I had clue what that was for. He said that it sent itself, but it was a little odd.

After that, he hasn't made contact until today, he sent me a picture of the beach in Destin. But again, it's a group message that I'm was meant for me. How do I respond to that?

So, to sum up, he was sweet, nice, cute, and there wasn't anything really wrong with him, but I just don't think we clicked. It was still infinitely better than the date with S----, who has texted me several times since our "date." So, I'm hopeful. I mean, if the next date (whenever that may be) is infinitely better than my date with R-----, then, I'll probably end up married to maybe the fifth guy I ever go on a date with. That's assuming that the dates continue to track upward at a constant level, of course.

Tonight, I Almost Got My Very Own Episode of Dateline

A lot has happened since last night's heart-to-heart with U------. This other guy on OkCupid starting instant messaging me, and then asked me out. For tonight. At 7.

When we first started talking, I asked him what hockey team he was a fan of, because he said he was a hockey fan. He said Detroit and Pittsburgh. That was almost a deal breaker, but I decided that that would be really shallow. So, we kept talking, and he was really enthusiastic.

When I said I needed to go, he asked me if I wanted to go out tonight. I said sure, because why the Hell not, right?

So, I went into mega-last-minute-get-your-ass-ready-for-a-first-date-mode. But S----, the guy, wouldn't stop texting me! If I didn't respond to his message, he would send me another one every few minutes. This started driving me crazy because, really, that's unnecessary. Finally, I told him I was leaving to meet him so he would stop texting me.

I drove to this restaurant and arrive at like 7:02, and I texted him to see where he was. He texted back that he was at home, and he would be there as soon as he could. This kind of pissed me off, but maybe he lived around the corner, what did I know?

At 7:30, I was on the verge of turning around and coming home. Then, he finally texts me that he was there. I told him I would meet him at the door. He walks up to me after a couple of minutes and just stared at me.

I said, "Hi, are you S----?"
He said, "Yes."
"I'm E--------, nice to meet you."
"Hi."

Then, I opened the door for him, and he told the hostess that there were two of us without looking at me. They seated us, and as we were sitting down, he goes, "So, is there anything else I need to know about you?" At this point, I'd like to take the opportunity to describe him. He was like 5'6" and weighed about 80lbs. His pictures had to be at least five years old, and there's no way he's only 24. What hair he had was long-ish and greasy, and he was wearing a Sheldon Cooper shirt. And, the second I saw him, every nerve in my body started screaming "Danger! Danger! Serial Killer! Run!"

So, when he asked if there was anything he needed to know about me I said, "No," and pulled my phone out into my lap and texted A--- "Omfg! SOS!"

While I was waiting for my saving grace, he just started chuckling manically under his breath. A--- texted back to see if I really needed her to call, and instead of properly answering her, I sent "Just call!"

While I waited for that, he stared at me and asked if I knew what I wanted to eat, and told me that he had just finished watching The Big Bang Theory. By the time A--- called and told me she was in a wreck, I was like shaking. So, as soon I got off the phone, I word vomited the excuse and bolted. Which, by the way, is pretty much exactly the way I would react if she were really in a wreck, but she doesn't actually drive, so...

On my way there, though, R----- texted me to confirm our date for tomorrow, and to tell me to have a good night. Which I think is just enough communication. He's texted me just a few times since we started trying to plan our date, and instead of feeling pushy, it makes me feel like he's thinking about me. It's nice. And after tonight, there's nowhere to go but up. I hope.

Brotherly Advice

R-----, the guy from OkCupid, texted me today, and we set up a date. We're going to dinner and a movie on Wednesday after work. I think I know what I'm going to wear, and I already checked the menu to make sure there's something I will eat at the restaurant he chose. E---- and J---- don't know yet, but my sister and U------ have been full of help.

K---- is dictating what I wear, how I do my hair, what kind of make-up I wear, etc. Being her typical bossy self.

U------ offered me some brotherly advice. He said, "Let him pay, and if doesn't pay, let him go." He also said I need to be optimistic. He's planning a get together for Thursday, and if things go well on Wednesday, he wants me to invite R----- to the party. Provided R----- drinks. If he doesn't drink, U------ said to just let it go. :)

At least, I like to think that if I had a brother, he would say something like that.

It's Possible That Hell Has Frozen Over

So... I might being meeting up with a guy later this week.

I'll let you digest that for a minute.

Yeah, I know, I can't believe it, either.

It all started when we got a new boss at work who had met her boyfriend on Plenty of Fish. That set E---- to nagging non-stop about me trying online dating. I tried telling her that I had tried it in the past and felt uncomfortable with it, but she just kept at me, and (as usual) she won. In the end, I broke down and made profiles on PoF and OkCupid, both of which I had tried before, and both of which and had met douche bag guys on.

About a week after I joined, I told E---- about this guy who had messaged me, but after I messaged him back, his reply was a little bizarre. Bizarre enough that I didn't think I wanted to reply back, so I just left it. As I was telling the story, she kept wanting to see my profile, so, finally, I let her read it. She ripped my poor little profile apart. Everything about it was bad. I showed her a couple more of the guys that had contacted me, and she was as unimpressed as I.

So, I rewrote my entire profile, and again, this guy messaged me, the same guy as before, but this time, he was really nice. He told me that he thought I seemed interesting and that I was very pretty, blah blah blah, and he gave me his phone number. With a what-the-hell-why-not attitude, I texted him. He asked what I was doing this weekend, and I told him that I had to work all weekend. Then he said that he gets off at four all week this week, if I wanted to hang out. I told him what days I was free, and he said he would text me this week.

Now, I know that whether or not this happens remains to be seen, but it's the closest I've come to a date. Like ever. I'm not so much excited as I am nauseous, and I'm working really hard to keep my expectations at rock bottom levels. E----, J----, and U------ are all incredibly excited. E---- said that she wants to take all responsibility for this date (the one that's not even planned yet), and I said, "Great, because if he turns out to be a serially killer, I'm coming back to haunt you!"

Anyway, wish me luck with this longshot. Advice is greatly appreciated (and openly solicited) either about the "date" or about online dating.

Putting Forth the Effort

I'm going to dye my hair. I've never done it before, and I'm a little nervous, but I want to try something new.

Right now, I get about as much attention from the opposite sex as a white crayon gets in a pre-school class. So, I want to change up my look. Not a crazy, drastic change, just a little, to hopefully give a subtle edge over my current game.

In addition, I have been trying (keyword) to put more effort into my daily appearance. Unfortunately, on morning that I open, that usually means I smooth my hair before I yank it up into a ponytail, and then I poke myself in the eyes with some mascara before I hide them behind my high-school era glasses. So, I've got a way to go, but I'm getting there. It would be nice if I didn't have to wear navy blue and khaki everyday, but I'll just have to deal with that.

On days that I don't go in until later, I usually do fairly well, my hair down and decent looking, make-up done-ish, contacts instead of glasses, but even then, it's a fairly low-maintenance routine. Also, it's so hot at work that I usually end up pulling my hair up once I get there, so that defeats the purpose. If I could just learn how to do some cute, casual up-dos, I'd be unstoppable.

Well, you know, as unstoppable as I'll ever be. Anyway, I can't wait to unveil my new 'do (probably sometime next week), but I think I'm not going to tell N----, U------, E----, A---, or B---- until I get it done. Maybe I won't tell anyone until I post the pics. We'll see...

Summertime!

Tomorrow is the official start of summer, which to me, generally means HSV is going to be hot as Hell and miserable, and that I hate Pennsylvania (it's kind of an inside joke having to do with the corporate offices of the company I work for and their lack of understanding of the concept of humidity).

But this year, I'm going to the beach with some friends (and one ex-friend), which brings up a whole new level of summertime misery: finding a swimsuit. 

Have you looked for a plus size swimsuit lately? They're damn hard to find online, and impossible to find in-store! How the hell am I supposed to go to the beach and show of my womanly curves when the fashion industry seems to want to pretend that women my size don't exist? Or worse, seem to think that we should hide our bodies like they're something to be ashamed of?

Now, I'll be the first to admit that I'm not totally comfortable with my body, and I will certainly not be rocking a bikini, but seriously, where can I find a cute suit at a decent price? And why is it so hard? 

It's looking like I'll be ordering a suit from Old Navy, unless I decide to buy bottoms from Old Navy and a tankini top from Target. Either way, I may need to take out a loan to afford swimwear. 

But, hey, maybe it'll be worth it, and I'll meet some super cute guy. 

The Cowboy Casa-never

I almost forgot all about this, but you're in luck because I just remembered.

As I've said before, my co-workers have made it their solemn mission to find me a man. This has entailed flirting lesson, styling tips, a field trip to the club, and lots of advice. But one of them has taken it to a whole new level.

Very often, they start sentences with "We saw this guy, and I was like he'd be perfect for Elizabeth..." Now, however, E---- has gotten a little desperate for me. She's started asking guys if they'd be interested in me. And not guys she knows. Guys at work. Customers. Yeah.

So, recently, we were doing a closing shift together, and she said, "I need to tell you what happened the other night."

So, what happened was this: This guy wearing a cowboy hat came in, and for some reason, E---- decided to ask him if he'd be interested in me.

Now, I stopped her at cowboy hat, because there are only two reasons a guy would wear a cowboy hat to a pharmacy (or anywhere really). One, he's actually a cowboy, in which case, fine. Or two, he's a colossal asshole, which doesn't interest me at all. When I asked why she thought he would be a good match for me, she said he "talked kind of smart" and "seemed a little cun-tree." So, from that, I was able to deduce that he was Cowboy Hat Type 2, and knew not to hold my breath for a happy ending to her story.

So, anyway, she apparently said something along the lines of "are you single, because I have this friend--"

And before she finished the question, he snapped, "I don't do that kind of stuff."

Now, I agree that E----'s approach was more than a little clumsy, but seriously, dude? You just got second-hand hit-on (sort of), and you're gonna choose now to prove my Cowboy Hat Hypothesis? A more appropriate response would have been, "I'm flattered, but I'm not interested. Thanks though, crazy lady."

But the part that gets me is "that kind of stuff." What kind of stuff? A blind date? Being second-hand hit-on? Did he think E---- was inviting him to some sort of creepy-random-stranger-orgy? Did he think she was about to pay him to take me on a date then dump pigs' blood on me so that I would end up the star of my very own horror movie? What?

So, anyway, that's the story of another disastrous attempt to find me a date that blew up on the launch pad without ever leaving the ground. All the second-hand rejection is starting to mess with E----'s mind a little. If I don't get a date soon, she's going to start putting ads on craigslist for me, or something, but for me, it's all funny as hell in a depressing, forever alone kind of way.

Random Hot Guy Sighting

There's this guy that comes into work every now and then, and he is so hot. He's probably about 6 ft. tall with a muscled build, and he has has red, messy hair that I really just want to touch. He's also all tat'ed up, which is not normally a turn-on for me, but it works for him. Unfortunately, he doesn't say much, and doesn't seem that bright, but since he only gives me like three words to go on every time he's in, I could be wrong about that. Anyway, I just thought that you should know.

Random Freak Sighting

I have to tell you about this guy that's come into work a couple of times in the last week. He has red hair that looks like he stuck his tongue in a toaster, and the most bizarre facial hair I have ever seen. It has the same tongue-in-toaster look, and I guess you would call it mutton chops, but they go all the way to his chin, and there's just a strip of no hair. Honestly, I know that makes no sense, but I can't describe it any better than that. Then, he wears this weird necklace. It's really long, and it has all this random shit strung on it. Natural stuff mostly, like shells, and I think that's it's made of hemp. And then, to top it off, he talks like Crush from Finding Nemo. So, I'm assuming he's a burn out.

The first time he came in, he was asking about cigarettes, and he asked me if ours were expensive. I told him they were (because they are), and he asked if he would be better off going to the gas station across the street. I told him he would, and he asked for a price on one of the packs. I told him the price, and he agreed that he would be better off going to the gas station. Then, he goes, "Thanks, for being honest, you're da bomb." And then, he fist bumped me! Seriously, who does that?

Then, the other day, he came in again, on his break from work. I think he told me where he worked, but I don't remember. Anyway, this time he bought a drink and a pack of cigarettes (Newport shorts, I think). I gave him his total, and he said, "What about my employee discount?" Of course, my response was "Oh, you work for [name withheld for legal reasons], too?" He said no, but asked if it worked like that, if he could get a discount at any [name withheld] store by working at one of them. I said yes, and he said, "Maybe I should get a job here so I can get some [random item on checkout that I don't remember now] on the low-low." 

So, now, I seriously can't wait to see what he does and says the next time he comes in. I'm like obsessed with this weirdo. He's better than t.v.! And, if he shaved and lost the weed-freak jargon, he'd be kind of cute, I think. But that may just be because I've got a thing for gingers. Just to prove how obsessed I am, I'll tell you that I even remember his birthday. 08-12-1989. Now, I'll add to that, I'm not some creepy person who generally remembers people's birthdays, or other random facts about them, but every now and then, someone catches my attention enough that I do remember weird thing like that. But as a general rule, I'm not a stalker.

He got an "A" for effort...

I barely scored passing marks.

Last night, N---- and I were closing together, and at one point we were both on the register. It just worked out that the last guy in my line was cute. Not super cute, but cute in a guy-that-would-make-you-laugh kind of way. He was tall-ish, with blond hair, a cute smile, and a heather-grey t-shirt that said "My [Heart] Belongs to a Zombie" on it.

As I was checking him out, we made small talk (while N---- listened). He had just gotten off work, blah blah blah. It was nice, lots of smiles and eye contact and nervous laughter. Basically, it was flirting. As flirty as I can be, anyway.

When he left, N---- was waiting with a play-by-play. What I did right, what I did wrong. She liked the small talk. He was cute. His game was good. I did pretty well for a beginner. I should have asked where he worked. On and on.

Then, when I said "oh well" because there are no do-overs (I still haven't forgiven myself for the D----- incident), she said, "Uh, yeah there are. It's called another cute guy comes in and you talk to him."

Then, because N---- has some weird clairvoyance or something (seriously, she always schedules my off days on days when it rains!), another guy did come in. He wasn't as cute as the first guy, but still cute, and he was nice. We chatted, and then, I gave him his total, $6.66. He sort of made a joke about it, and I told him that where I used to work, one of the beers, if you bought it by itself, was $6.66. He said, "Did you work at, like, a gas station or something...?" I said, "No, I... well, I used to work in Disney World." He thought that was cool, and asked me couple of things about working there, so we ended up talking for probably five minutes. Which is a lot when you consider that I was just supposed to be ringing him up.

Unfortunately, for me, Sensei N---- wasn't around to grade my progress or give me pointers. But, in my self-assessment, I think I did pretty darn well. I mean, really, I chatted up two guys in one night. That's a lot when you consider I've never done that before, like ever.

I get points for trying, right?

Gilligan's Island

Relationships are kind of like Gilligan's Island. You start out going for a three hour pleasure cruise, and then, things get serious. You end up somewhere with this other person that you barely know, and you don't know where, or for how long, so you try to make the best of it. There are tears, and serious moments, but there's lots of laughter, too. Then, when it's over, you are a different person because of it, and, looking back on that three hour cruise, you can't help but be thankful for the storm.

Expedition Complete

The expedition was a fail of epic, no, dare I say, catastrophic, proportions.

Let me start by saying, I did not get drunk. During the time between 8pm and 12:30 pm I had a total of three tequila shots (disgusting, I'd rather have vodka and day of the week) and two Long Island ice teas. Now, I don't drink often, but that's not enough to get me drunk. I almost wish I had been drunk, then I might have had an excuse.

But I'm getting ahead of the story. A--- and I got to N----'s house on time/early depending on your definitions. Then, we waited while she took a shower and got dressed (after welcoming us with tequila). Then, she picked out my make-up and did my hair while we waited for E---- to get off work. When E---- got there, she made me do another shot with her, and then, we were all ready to go.

In our quest for parking, N---- broke about a hundred traffic laws, including going the wrong way on a one-way street. Then, E---- continued the lawlessness by crossing when the sign clearly said "DON'T WALK." It did her no good, however, because the rest of us refused, and waited for the light.

We got into the club, and the air was so thick with cigarette smoke, I almost choked. Also, most of the people there had were dressed casually, there were a few others dressed up like we were, but almost all of the guys were just wearing normal everyday clothes. The music was okay, but they used their strobe light way too much.  The Long Islands were damn good, though.

The first hour or so was spent with N---- and E---- trying to get me to bump into cute guys, or to dance near them, or give them "the eye," whatever the hell that means. Then, they abandoned A--- and I for a while, and we just danced. All of us found each other again eventually, and got another Long Island. Then, N---- and E---- spent more time strategizing. After that, we went back on the floor.

Now, up until then, the night had been great. I hadn't been approached, but that didn't really matter because I was having fun. Cue the dehydration.

I started to feel a little shaky, but I thought I was just a little tipsy, so I kept dancing. Then, I started to feel my legs getting weak, but I still ignored it because I didn't want to mess up their fun (they were all dancing with random guys). So, by the time I told A--- that I needed to sit down, it was too late.

I literally took one step and hit the floor. It was the worst sensation, my legs just crumpling beneath me. If you've ever fainted because you stood too long with your knees locked, you know what I mean. I was, of course, mortified, as A--- and some random guy picked me up, and I hit my knees two more times before I got to a seat. I blame the shoes and the heat. I also feel like a total idiot for ignoring what my body was trying to say.

We left soon after that, which is to say, as soon as I could walk back to the car.

In manhunting news, N---- and E---- were beating guys off with sticks, and A--- had a couple of cuties grinding on her (which was uncomfortable for her but amusing for me). Me? One guy all night danced with me (not counting the totally fucked up dude that danced with the four of us before trying to dance with a big dude with dreads who was having none of that bullshit), and he was a definite never-gonna-happen. He was persistent, though, I spent several minutes trying to dance away from him while he grabbed my waist and repeatedly asked me my name. He didn't get it.

So, in summation, it was fun for a night, but that was absolutely not my scene. I think I would enjoy something more laid back, the drinking was fun, but the music and lights were too much. Also, I'd like somewhere I can actually see more than basic outlines of the people around me.

Well, you live and learn. A--- and I had IHOP after, and then, when I got home around 4am, my mom was freaking out a little. I can all but promise her this probably won't happen again. Not the exact same thing, anyway.

First Major Expedition: The Game Plan

In less than 48 hours, I'll be out with the girls for my first foray into alcohol-fueled manhunting antics. Pretty much everyone in my life has asked me two questions: 1) Are you excited? and 2) Are you nervous? The answers are yes, and yes.

I'm excited to be getting all dolled up, going out with my friends, and having a good time. I'm nervous because I don't drink often, and I've never even been to a bar, so I don't know what to expect. I'm also nervous because I've signed over all styling choices to N----, E----, and N----'s sister, K----, who will be doing my hair and make-up.

So, here's the game plan for Friday:

• I get off at 3:45 pm, so after I get off, I'll come home and shower and put on my dress. But I'm forbidden from wearing any make-up.
• I'll pick A--- up around 7
• We'll get to N----'s house around 8 so K---- can do my hair and make-up.
• E---- gets off at 9, so she'll come over and get ready, and then by 10 or 10:30, we'll all be ready to go.

The plan gets a little fuzzy after that. Several places have been discussed, so I'm not sure where we're going exactly. All I know is somewhere downtown.

Also, N---- informed me today that she's going to have a shot waiting for me when I walk through her door, and that once E---- gets there, I'll probably have to do at least one more. In fact, she and U------ told me that I should probably start drinking water and taking aspirin right now to cope with Friday night. That sounds encouraging, right?

So, I currently have two bottles of water next to my bed, I've been using Jergen's Express Glow lotion for the last couple of days (it hasn't helped much), and I'm about to remove my Nashville Predators playoff themed nail polish. I'm as ready as I'll ever be for this, so bring it on.

A Little White Lie of Omission

I can not tell a lie. Well, I can. I'm actually pretty good at it, but that's beside the point.

Point being that I've omitted a small detail, mostly because it was utterly unimportant, but I feel a little guilty. The whole idea of this blog is to capture and share my thoughts on how stupid my (nonexistent) love life is, so if I don't share everything, then, I'm not fulfilling my purpose.

So, here it is: E---- almost found me a blind date.

She had a friend that knew someone, and she was really excited. She even made me give her a picture of me to send to her friend to show him. I don't know if my picture ever actually made it to this random man or not, but it is a damn good picture, if I do say so myself.

Anyway, the other day, she broke the bad news: he's 32.

Now, that gives me the opportunity to discuss my age policy.

• Ten years older is my age limit. Now, yes, I am 22 and BDG (Blind Date Guy) is 32, but just because the limit is ten years, that doesn't mean I'm actively searching for someone ten years older. In fact, I'm actively searching for someone 2-4 years older. The other issue is that at 32 a person (ideally) should be fairly settled into life. BDG is a manager at a hotel in Huntsville. So... that doesn't work for me.
• Born after October 20, 1989 is too young. I'm more strict about this one than the other one because I am not going to end up older than my husband unless I out-live him. That's just the way it is, because while I can't wait to call him "grandpa" when we're I'm middle-aged and he's looking fifty squarely in the eye (fifty is not all that old, it's just the standard joke birthday), I do not want to be the first one to hit old age.

Also, there's the maturity level issue. Someone ten years older than me is not going to have the generational outlook that someone nearer my age would, and I behave more maturely than someone younger than me (and pretty much anyone my age, too). I keep hoping that this will be less true (and matter less) as I get older, but so far, it hasn't.

Not to mention, when you hear about pretty much any man over thirty dating a girl under the age of about twenty-seven, you immediately assume she's a slut. At least, that's the prevalent opinion where I am currently living, and yes, I am that shallow that I care what people are saying about me. Anyone who says they don't is lying through her teeth to you and herself.

So, if I'm going to have the "significant age difference" speech with my parents, grandparents, friends, extended family, and every other nosy person in this little southern town, that guy better be a 9.5 or higher. And since that's seriously unlikely, not least of all because I'm not 9.5 compatible, I said probably not to the blind date set up.

The Way You Flirt, Sir...

...it pisses me off.

Tonight, I worked 11am to almost 10pm. About eight hours into my shift a couple of guys came in They may have been a little older than me, but not much, and they were okay looking guys; you know, not movie stars, but not skeezy or gross. Anyway, I said hello when they walked in, then went about my business.

A few minutes later, the Talker walked up to me and said, "I'm ready to check out, are you ready to check me out?" Like right up in my face. Now, it's true, if my day up 'til then hadn't been quite so stupid, I probably wouldn't have been so bothered by his tone, but today pretty much sucked, so I regret nothing.

I went to the register, and was checking him out, and he just kept asking me things and talking to me in the same tone where I knew he was joking (and probably trying to flirt) but really all he was accomplishing was pissing me off. At one point, he said, "Oh, you don't have to keep calling me 'sir,' you're probably older than me, anyway."

At this point, I feel that I need to interject that I can't even get into rated R movies without every employee in the theatre checking my I.D., so no, I don't look old, asshat. I mean, seriously, how the hell was I supposed to respond to that? After that he asked if I'd had a long day, because "the humor's just not rolling on you the right way." I said that my day had, in fact, been long, that I'd been there since 11 and didn't get off until 9:30.

Then, it was his friend's turn to check out, and the Talker still wouldn't shut up! He said, "This guy [his friend] will smile at you to make you day better. [Friend], smile at her." His friend then said, "Shut up, [Talker's-Real-Name-That-I-Didn't-Catch]," under his breath. That got sort of a derisive snort from me, which was apparently encouragement for the Talker, who then proceeded to celebrate his ability to get any reaction (which, I'll admit, at that point, it was pretty impressive, because usually that deep into a stupid predicament, I'm totally shut down, and not even pay attention to anything but escape) from me at all.

Thankfully, they didn't hang around. That whole story might have ended a lot differently if I had been in better humor, but seriously, dude, your idea of flirting is stuck in the third grade. Teasing and talking down to me is not the quickest way to my heart. In fact, it's pretty damn close to the quickest way to piss me off. So, I have yet again, successfully shut down a guy who might possibly have been interested in me. Fuck my life.

First Major Expedition: Prepwork

As the name suggests, this blog is supposed to be about me chronicling my search for the elusive eligible bachelor. So, finally, I am in the process of planning an actual manhunting outing instead of just wandering through life hoping I trip over a great guy.

My co-workers E---- and N---- along with myself and possibly my friend, A---, will be going out for a night on the town next Friday. To most people, this sounds typical, boring, even, but you have to remember, I drink like once a year, maybe, and I go clubbing... umm, never. So, for me, the prospect of going out with the girls is exciting, verging on terrifying.

So, my first instructions were to find a suitable dress. I started my mission last Thursday in between my exams, and tried on a ton of dresses. The few that I deemed worthy of second opinions were photographed and sent to my sister and E----. That day, I think there was a total of three dresses.

Then, Saturday, K----, my sister, and I were planning to go to the art festival downtown, but first, I wanted to meet up with E---- and see if we could find a dress. We shopped, and shopped, and shopped; seriously, for hours all I did was try on dress after dress. E---- left no dress unturned. Until, finally, we were back to the store where I had found a dress that I really liked when I was looking on Thursday.

I tried it on for them, and what do you know? Both of them (plus N----, who was weighing in her opinion via text) agreed that was the dress. So, now, I have to figure out some shoes and jewelry.

That's the dress. So, anybody got any suggestions for shoes, jewelry, hair, or make-up? 

Promise to keep you up-to-date on this upcoming expedition!

Today Was "The Most"

It was. I thought I was exhausted having not gone to sleep until 3:30 am until I checked facebook and N---- hadn't gotten home from the club until 6 am. That was my first clue that today was just going to be stupid. The two of us do stupid stuff when we aren't dog tired, but both of us dog tired working all day shifts. Go ahead and write it off as a dumbass day.

Then, customers just kept doing stupid shit. One man brought in a floppy disk to see if we could process pictures stored on it. Let me run that by you again. He had a floppy disk. I literally saw it and thought, "What the fuck is that?" That's how long it's been since they've been relevant. And that was one of the more pleasant dumbass moments of the day.

One woman asked me 87 questions. While I was trying to walk through the store to the restroom.
I couldn't remember how to do the morning paperwork.
It took me like four hours to put all the sale signs up in the vitamin section.
A woman asked me a question about phone cards. I told her I didn't know anything about them, that the company I work for doesn't do anything but sell them, and that she would have to call the customer service number on the back of the card. And she still kept asking me about the stupid cards! For half an hour! WTF?!
The some grown-ass men came in and started bouncing the balls that we have in one of those weird bungee cord cage things. It pisses me off when little kids do it. Turns out, it pisses me off more when grown-ass men do it.

But all of that to say that today, during "the most" bizarre day I've had in a while, I am almost certain I checked out D-----, one of the local hockey players. And instead of asking if it was him, or making conversation, or flirting, I stared at him like he had six heads.

What the hell am I doing!? He was cute. He may have been a hockey player. He had epic facial hair. He had a nice voice. And all I did was ask if he had one our cards, give him his total, and tell him to have a great day! All while staring at him with this goofy-ass grin.

Excuse the French I'm using liberally today, but FUCK! No wonder I'm single. I've got about as much game as  a dead sloth.

Honestly, the best thing I can say about the whole thing is that he smiled at me the whole time I was staring at him. I'd love to have a do-over.

Unattainable crush of the Week

This week I've chosen another hockey player, and this one is actually pretty special to me. He's the reason I decided to be a Preds fan instead of a Tampa fan.

Why, you ask? Why, because he and I have a connection.

What kind of connection, you ask? We were both born on the exact same day. And since I've never come across anyone else born on 10-20-1989, I decided that it was fate that I become a Colin Wilson and Nashville Predators fan.

So, in recognition of a frequently overlooked player, this is Colin's week. Because even if he doesn't get to play much, he's one of (if not my very) favorite NHL'ers.

He always looks like he's having fun with the fans, especially when there are little kids, but Google refused to show me any pictures of him with little kids, so here's this one instead. Point being, he's good with fans, good with kids, and a-freaking-dorable!

He literally always looks this happy. In my head, he's the guy that's just happy to be there and is just all-around good-natured. Also, somewhere on YouTube, there's an interview of him where he says he believes in love at first sight. I don't care if he was joking or not, that makes me swoon more than a little bit.

This picture is really just here because of the way Shea Weber looks. But Willie is adorable in it, and so happy. I bet he said something dumb, and Weber couldn't believe he said it.

This picture also has nothing to do with the reason that it represents, but here we go. He has two years of a college education. And he's an American citizen. Which means he could be president, but Nick Spaling and Patric Hornqvist could not. What I'm really trying to say here is I can't find the video of those three answering Terry Crisp's random questions, but it's one of the funniest things ever because apparently, none of them can work a computer, either, and Colin is the only one man enough to admit it.

This article should be titled "Colin Wilson: The Most Adorable Pred"

Because that's pretty much what it's about. Apparently, in addition to our birthday, we also share the ability to forget pretty much any and every important detail.

So, I realize that this has been a little longer than usual, but this guy is just so cute. Some of my other UCs are on the list purely because they make me have dirty, dirty thoughts, but this guy, I want to kiss his cheek and hold his hand. (And lots of other less-fit-for-print things, too.) 

*Edit: Due to a copyright issue, I had to remove one of the images I was using. It has been replaced with a placeholder until I can go back and re-make it.

With Friends Like That, I'd Be Better Off With Enemies

There's this man, old man, that works next door to the drugstore I work at, and he buys his cigarettes from us. He also has a not so subtle crush on me. He's 51. That's 5 years older than my dad. And he works part-time at a fast food chain, has been evicted twice in the last year, and is greasy, icky, gross, skeezy.

So, pretty much every time he comes in, my coworkers find a way to make me talk to him. Tonight I was zoning the back when E----- paged me to the front. I didn't see him until it was too late to turn around and hide, so I had to go up to ask what she needed even though U------ was up there and could have taken care of anything she needed. When I asked what she needed (I was already pretty sure of the answer), she said that J--- just wanted to speak to me and make my day.

The whole time J--- was talking, I was glaring daggers at U------ and E-----. If I could have killed them then, I would have. He just kept talking about going home to bake a cheesecake (which they were quick to tell him I liked and would love to try), and how his online classes are going.

Eventually, he ran out of things to say (twice) and he just stood there looking at me awkwardly while I imagined U------ and E----- spontaneously combusting.

Finally, an old couple walked up and asked me where something was. Now, I knew we didn't have what they wanted, and I knew exactly where it would be if we carried it, but I insisted on helping them look for it as though it might actually be there. I pretty much ran to the back with them without even acknowledging that I was walking away from a conversation.

The lady even said that they didn't mean to interrupt, but I told her it was fine. Then, when I walked back up front, I made absolutely certain that J--- was already gone. Then, I proceeded to berate my "friends."

Oh, You're Flirting With the Girl at the Pharmacy...

...wonder how your wife would feel about that.

It drives me crazy when married men flirt. You're married!!! I know that our society has pretty much lost all respect for marriage, but just think about what your wife would think if she were there to see you.

On top of that, I'm not interested in a married man. If you're willing to cheat on your wife, then you sure as hell can't be trusted to be faithful to the other woman.

So, just because you call me "Darling" and smile and wink and tease and FLIRT, that doesn't make you any less married or me any more interested. It just makes you an asshat that I'm going to make fun of when you walk away.

Unattainable Crush of the Week

My apologies, but with NHL Playoffs beginning, hockey has pretty much taken over my life, so bear with me for the next couple of weeks while I go full on puck bunny. (I promise, I do really like and enjoy the sport, but some of those guys are just distractingly hot. Also, according to SpellCheck, "distractingly" is not a word, but I'm a rebel.)

Anyway, this week, since I've already sung the praises of Nashville's Shea Weber, I'm going to pick someone from my second favorite team, the Chicago Blackhawks. For the sake of full-disclosure, I became a fan of this team pretty much totally based on YouTube videos. Seriously, go YouTube them and don't fall in love with the whole team... go on, I'll wait.

Done? Didn't I tell you? Funny right?

So, all that to say this, my crush this week is Patrick Kane.

Kane is not the kind of guy I normally am attracted to; he's a skinny kid from Buffalo who (according to YouTube and Tumblr) spends quite a lot of his time drunk. BUT... he's so freaking funny, and he has that charming I-know-I-did-something-wrong-but-you-can't-stay-mad-at-this-face grin that drives me wild. Also, scrawny or not, he's talented. His shootout goal Saturday was freaking amazing!

Reason 1: His sense of humor, and his talent.

Reason 2: His mad dance skills... which is the same as saying his sense of humor

Reason 3: His freaking adorable smile. And the obscene way he chews on his mouthpiece.

Bonus: His tongue. Go watch pretty much any interview with him, and I can almost guarantee he'll be teasing you the whole time. I'm beginning to notice this seems to be a hockey player trait because he's not the only one guilty.

I'll take that as a compliment...

Tonight at work, this woman in her forties came in, and I complimented her ring (it was really cool looking, and I get distracted by shiny things). She thanked me and started telling me about the ring she usually wore. Her friends told her to stop wearing it because it made people think she was married, and then she joked that that must be the reason why no one had asked her out in a while.

I told her I totally (yes, I did say totally, so what if I sound like a thirteen year-old, it's my life) understood, but that I never wear any rings.

She looked at me, a little confused and said, "Are you married?"

This, of course, made me laugh, and I told her, "No, I've just never been asked out."

I would have given anything to have a picture of her face when she said, "EVER!?"

Then, the one she made when I said, "Nope, never," was even better.

Then, she asked if I went out and did things, to which I replied that I don't "party," but I go to lots of sporting events (code for hockey games) and to the movies and out to eat and pretty much all over the place. Then, she asked, "What about friends from high school?" To which I replied, "They don't exist."

So, then, I got a well intention spiel about how love will happen when I'm not looking for it, blah, blah, blah...

But her total shock. It was priceless. And because it's my policy to take everything as a compliment unless even rose-tinted glasses can't make it a good thing, I'll take that one.

"The Talk"

Eventually, everyone gets "The Talk." I thought that I had escaped this rite of passage, but tonight, my mom took care of that. Yes, you read that right. Tonight. Just to clarify, I'm twenty-two (22) years old. 

The conversation went something like this: we started out talking about one of my friends who is a total Assy McAsshat, and progressed on to how Assy, my ex-friend Bitchy, and my actual friend were all drinking at the hockey game last week. My sister saw them and was telling my mom what a horrible friend Assy was and how much everyone hated Bitchy, so that led Mom to suspect that I, too, drink.

So, we talked about how I drink like once a year, maybe, and laughed at how my sister ratted me out without even thinking that might be what she was doing. After that, we talked about how we don't like the sports teams from New York (Yankees, Rangers, Jets, Islanders, Knicks, etc.)

Mom got up to go to bed, and I got up to get ready for bed (yes, we were in my bedroom because yes, I still live with my parents because I'm a poor college kid, but guess what, I'm cool with it because I'm debt free). Suddenly, she slammed my door open and said,

"And while we're having these talks, just in case you sometime decide to have sex, use protection."

Then, she slammed the door closed, leaving me to laugh at how slim a possibility that is, and at how lucky I am that my mom is freaking awesome. Oh, and, I got the Sex Talk. It's been an interesting night.

Ridiculously Excitable

Just so you know, I obsessively check my blog stats, and I get crazy excited over like two pageviews. But what really makes me want to scream like a little girl is the audience page where it tells me where in the world the views are coming from. It blows my mind that anyone is reading this, but knowing that people all over the world have read/looked at anything I've done... just... ahhh! I love it! So, thank you so much for checking this out!

Oh, and I'm a little curious, is any of the stuff I say relevant to your lives where you live? Or am I just some weird sideshow-freak type read? Let me know. (And yes, that is a shameless ploy to get comments, since that's one stat I have 0 of...)

Thanks!
MHXGuide

Maybe Work on the Approach a Little

Friday night, after the hockey game, the team stuck around to sign autographs. Now, my sister is an autograph fanatic, so she and her friend waited to get their team posters signed. My friend and I opted out of the autograph signings because if we actually meet them, they're real people, and it's more fun to imagine them than actually think of the real person.

So, while we waited for Kate and Lindsey, Anna and I walked around the park because it was a BEAUTIFUL night. There's a road that cuts the park in half, and we were walking along it about to head back to my car when this guy walks up behind us and says something really quick so neither of us understood him. We stepped off the sidewalk, thinking he wanted by, but he just kept standing there looking at us. Then, he said (mostly to his shoes), "I was wondering... if maybe.. you'd liketogooutfor dinner with... menmifrend."

Both of us were shocked, and immediately said, "No, thank you," as politely as we could. He said ok, and we parted ways, but it was so bizarre. He wasn't creepy, but the randomness of the situation made it creepy. We weren't sure whether he was asking us on a date, or soliciting us. Made for an amusing story, though.

So, kudos, dude, for actually walking up to a couple of girls and asking them out. Just work on that confidence level and the setting a little. You'll be unstoppable. :)

Unattainable Crush of the Week

Week 6- Steven Stamkos

He's one of the leading scorers in the NHL... and he's not even 23. Pretty damn impressive, I think. Here's my case:

Tell me that you don't think he could take you. Any way.

He scores... a lot. That's sexy.

It's true. All he needs is a noble steed and a crown.

My Eyes Are Up Here

Every girl has dealt with it at some point. You're just minding your own business, and suddenly, you realize that some middle-aged, married man is ogling your boobs. So, here's my take on it.

I don't mind the staring, because as soon as I walk away I'm going to start talking about what a skeeze he was, and the more openly he does it, the funnier the story. That said, I don't stare at guys' neatly wrapped packages in public, and girls who do are called sluts by most people, so why is it ok for a man twice my age to stare at my chest? And, it's not just older men, it's the whole age spectrum from puberty on up. (Just to cover my ass, I'm aware that not every guy ogles women.)

Also, any guy I catch ogling is immediately in the red as far as attractiveness goes. Even the guys on my Unattainable list would become seriously less appealing because it's just tasteless.

My favorite story about this, though, is from when I was working in Disney World. My costume (uniform) was hideous and had an apron, so it didn't in any way accentuate my bust (which is rather large). I was running the register, and this boy (between ages 10-12) was ordering. My boobs were at eye level for him, and he never looked up from them. I was grinning, thinking about how I was going to tell my friends later, and then, the story got ten times better. His dad was staring at the exact same place his son was! It was priceless! It would have been a perfect internet meme.

So, in conclusion, fellas, feel free to keep staring... if that's as far as you ever want to get with a decent broad. And, ladies, laugh in their faces next time, and they'll be the ones embarrassed. Problem solved.

Unattainable Crush of the Week

Week Five- Ian Somerhalder


He's my favorite vampire. And he's a southern boy.

He was involved in the clean up effort in the Gulf of Mexico after the BP oil spill.

I can't help but melt for that cocky bastard smirk.

His eyes. They're beautiful.

Random Cute Guy Sighting

Cute, not hot, because I'm not sure if he's old enough for me to legally call him hot.

Anyway, I'm a hockey fan, so I go to the local team's games as often as I can. Now, I'm sure that I'll talk about the players at some point. Maybe to commemorate the last game of the season next week, but they aren't the focus of this post.

This post is dedicated to the Zamboni driver. He is adorable! The only downside to his good looks is that I can't tell how old he is. I've come to the conclusion that he must be between the ages of 16 and 26. I feel like he probably has to be at least over eighteen to drive that thing for insurance purposes, if not over 21, but he just looks so young. But, yeah, he's a cutie, and I just wanted to take a moment to appreciate it.

That Was Classy...

...Not So Much

Tonight, my friend and I had to pick some things up at Wal-Mart, and as we were walking back to my car, we passed the truck with window paint writing on the back window. I didn't pay any attention to it until she stared laughing and asked if I read it.

It said, "I'm single, hit me up," and had a phone number. Unfortunately, the owner was standing right there, otherwise, I would have collected photographic evidence. He was probably in his mid- to late-twenties, but I didn't really form an opinion on his attractiveness because I was trying not to get caught staring.

But, really, how desperate do you have to be? I'm sure he gets some classy responses.

Unattainable Crush of the Week

Week number 4's crush is Ryan Gosling. I've thought this one was adorable since Remember the Titans. I'll be honest, though, I've never seen The Notebook. And Drive made me want to be sick. But, hey, he's still really hot. Here are my reasons:

He broke up a street fight just because he could. That took balls.

He loves his dog. 

He used to be a Mouseketeer! Being a Disney addict, that makes him about a thousand times more attractive to me.

"Seriously!? It's like you're photo-shopped!" Thank you, I couldn't have said it better myself, Emma.

Random Year-old Single Rant

So, I was going through a notebook I used for school a couple of semesters ago, and I came across this rant that I wrote down while not paying attention in class. It made me laugh out loud at myself, so I hope you enjoy it, too.

I'm not learning anything in here. None of this makes any sense. 

Ugh. I'm going to be 21 years-old, and going to my cousin's wedding single. Dang it. How pathetic am I? I need a romantic relationship, stat. It's getting desperate. I mean, really? A felon? No, thanks, and no thank you, D-----, too. Someone attractive and acceptable needs to find me attractive and ask me out. Please and thank you. Because I'm sick of being single. I'm sick of being a strong, independent woman. I want romance. I want a relationship. I need affection and respect. And I need it and want it now. All wrapped up in a non-ugly, preferably ginger package with a great sense of humor and similar religious convictions. That not too much to ask, is it? Is it? He doesn't have to be ginger. He could have blond hair, or brown. And he doesn't have to be hot or drop-dead-gorgeous, just attractive to me. Although, I wouldn't turn a sexy, drop-dead kinda guy down. At this point, I think I'd even go out with N---, and I don't even think he's cute, and I do think he's a big bowl of crazy flakes. 

Everybody I went to high school with... I don't like that sentence. They're all gonna start getting married and having babies soon, and I'm still going to be single. I'm quickly becoming an old maid, and I'm not ok with that.

Why is Prince Charming taking so long? Did my frog prince get dissected? Or was my fish lost in the oil spill? At least, let me know he's out there somewhere. I'm too old to have never been kissed. For heaven's sake, even C------'s been kissed, and I'm much more pleasant to be with than she is. Aren't I? My people skills are very superior to hers. Right?

Honestly, how random can I be? The felon I'm referring to is one of two people, either this guy that I was convinced was a drug dealer or this guy that my friend wanted to set me up with who did drugs. Either way, not a great catch. D----- was a guy my dad's age that gave me his number, and N--- was a big bowl of crazy flakes.

It just cracks me up how nothing has changed. I'm still single, still making jokes about it, and still going to be the only one at my ten-year high school reunion without a ten year-old. Although, I'm ok with not having a four year-old right now.

Just thought I'd let you see what really goes on in my head. Hope it made you laugh.

I'm not Picky... Really...

There are several other people invested in my thus far fruitless search for a romantic partner. For example, I work with two girls who have made it their New Year's Resolution to find me a man. So, I often receive suggestions about this guy or that guy. And more often than not, I look at the guy they're suggesting and say, "Not for me."

This frustrates them to no end, and I've received countless lectures on how the perfect guy does not exist. So, this is a post in defense of myself and my picky behavior.

First off, I realize that having never even been on a date before, in many peoples' opinions, I should accept any offer I'm given gratefully, but I refuse to become the desperate, do-anything-for-a-man girl that goes psycho and boils a rabbit halfway through the movie. So no, I will not accept bottom-feeders, here defined as a) men old enough to be my father, b) men who make less money than I do, c) men who spend all their money on alcohol, cigarettes, illicit drugs, etc. d) any combination of the above, or e) all of the above.

Then there's the problem of where a particular guy might fit into my life. I am a college student working retail full-time. I only intend to be living in Alabama for another two years tops. So, a relationship with someone established and unwilling to relocate would have a shelf-life. That's a problem. And if he was willing to relocate, would he want to relocate when I did, or do the long distance thing? Would I want him to relocate with me, or do I want to enter the adult world on my own two feet? Would he want to get married before relocating? I realize that most of those questions wouldn't come up on a first date, but you can see where it could quickly become an issue in the relationship if he were to try to talk me into staying, or we were racing to get serious before the move. So, there's reason two that I shake my head at a guy: he seems too attached to north Alabama.

 Reason three is simple: I don't find him at all physically appealing. I'm not looking for some guy out of GQ, just someone that I might look at and think, "Yeah, I might like to sleep with that at some point in the future." Also, it's important to admit that I like what I call odd beauty. Something a little different about a guy's looks that makes him unique. And, I have kind of a thing for redheads. Having red hair doesn't make a guy cute, but it does make a cute guy cuter.

The fourth thing is that he seems to be going nowhere. He's happy just drifting along without any dreams or aspirations beyond beating COD for the millionth time. Me, I'm ambitious; I have dreams. If I were in a relationship with someone who wasn't, I know that I would constantly be nagging him about what he was planning to do next, or when he was going to do this or that. He would resent me, I would resent him. It's just my personality type.

No rednecks. One of my friends at work (let's name them Model and Married), Married, keeps telling me I need to find a country guy because I'm a country girl. What she doesn't realize is the being from the country and being redneck are two different things, so when she sees a redneck come in, she says, "What about him?" Now, I'm not against dating someone from the boondocks; I've lived my whole life in the sticks, but the difference is the amount of class. Yes, rednecks can be great guys, but that type is just not for me. i'm more of an indoors kind of girl. (Not that I won't go fishing/hiking/whatever, I just don't want to make a lifestyle of it.) Basically, if Jeff Foxworthy would classify you as a redneck, I'm not interested.

Also, no assholes. I'll be the first one to admit I can be a bitch, but I don't make a habit of it. So, I don't want to date an ass. Rudeness is unacceptable. And someone who is nice to me, but rude to the waitress is a Class A Asshat.

So, if that makes me picky, then I'm picky, but I won't apologize.

Random Hot Guy Sighting

At out local mall, there's a hippie-dippie-trippie store that has all sorts of weird junk. There's a really, really, really, REALLY cute/hot/want-to-jump-him-sexy guy that works there. He's tall, has long, beautiful white-blonde hair, and has cheek piercings. Just thought you should know.

Unattainable Crush of the Week

Week Three- Taylor Kitsch


He's Tim Riggins, Gambit, and now, he's John Carter. Those three roles should be reason enough, but in case you need more persuading:

He looks good with sexy, dirty, long hair, and he looks good with sexy, short, "grown up" hair.

The smoldering look is HOT! 

Really? Do I need a reason to go along with this picture, or can we just agree?

So go see this movie on March 9th. it was a really, really, really good book, and I'm hoping they didn't ruin it. But even if they did, he's shirtless for pretty much the whole thing, so isn't it worth it?

Unattainable Crush of the Week

Week 2- Travis Clark


So, week number two, my pick is Travis Clark, 6'3" ginger lead singer of We the Kings (great band, by the way). Here's my case:

He plays guitar... and piano... and he sings... and he's good at it.

How can you not swoon at that smile? It basically says, "Take me home to meet your parents because they will love me even if I am a rock star with a billion tattoos."

Now, what was the last reason? Hmmm... oh yeah, THE HAIR! I mean, just look at it! I just want to touch it, and the fact that it's ginger is a super plus (for me at least).