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?