Tuesday, May 15, 2012

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.

Saturday, May 12, 2012

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.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

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.

Monday, May 7, 2012

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.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

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.