My softball team headed to lovely Wendover this weekend to play in a tournament. Did we win? That would be a big NO. But we had a good time and got to know each other better. But I DID win at the tables (Roulette and Blackjack to be specific) and had a blast doing it.
I am now paying the price for my fun filled ass kicked weekend… I am exhausted! Why oh why do I stay up (even if it IS talking to a potential) until 1 am when I know I should be asleep around 10? It’s called hope, aka, stupidity.
I’m lying in bed avoiding packing for my (insert voice of the guy who does the monster truck rally commercials) AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME trip to Wendover this weekend for a softball tournament. I’ve had fun there before, and it’s also been destination HELL. I’ve decided that this one will be good.
Because I’m a freak and a spaz, I’ve been trying to calm my brain down. A good way for me to do that is to think about good things. This time around, I came up with thinking about certain people in my life that I feel incredibly blessed to call my friends. This is why I love you:
Cous: Because you can run faster than me, but you don’t. You are someone I know will always pick my dumb ass up off of the proverbial floor, dust me off, and support me even when I act like an idiot.
B.S.: Despite a weird past, your foot fetishes and womanizing, this past year you have really surprised me at what a great friend you can be. Deep down I really am starting to think that you really are good :).
Mads: Funny the way things happen… let’s call it fate (because you can never use too much cheese) or just pure chance, but you’ve become a great friend to me. You always make me feel better, and I love having an emotional twin out there in the world. Plus, without you, I would have never found my new saying… HA!
Matt: What do I say… A friendship formed in a rather unconventional way, but you’ve always been a great source of comfort and inspiration to me. Love yer guts!
M.D.: You drive me nuts and I think you’re difficult, but I do love your steam shower and our monthly get-together ego boosters 🙂
I got a cold almost three weeks ago and after not getting better (and continuing to hack up some unmentionable crap out of my lungs) I decided a visit to the doctor was in order.
Diagnosis: Whooping cough. WHOOPING COUGH!?! Are you kidding me? That’s what little kids get, or so I thought. The icing on the cake is that it has progressed into bronchitis and possibly the early stages of pneumonia. SWEET!
My doctor prescribed a strong antibiotic called Azithromyacin. To my surprise and utter delight, I seem to be one of the 3% of people who have horrible and excruciating stomach pain that lasts for 30 minutes about an hour after I take it. The only thing I can compare this to is labor pain. I suppose it’s a small price to pay for not drowning in a pool of my own phlem.
In other news, I had a coffee date this morning. I’m saying very little (because now I’m paranoid and don’t want to jinx anything), but I will say that it was a HUGE improvement over Sundays shit show.
It’s a very fine line kids.
That line between being your future man and being a creepy stalker.
The funny thing about the line is that two people can do exactly the same thing but invoke very different feelings. If you’re interested in someone, them rubbing your neck and back is a very welcomed action, something that not only feels good, but makes you feel wanted. That same “rub” from someone you are NOT attracted to on any level can make your skin crawl.
Which brings me to this Sunday… a blind date that I thought might be good. Even great. Alas, and double shit, it was not. I had seen his picture before and thought I had a good idea of what he looked like. Honestly, had he not told me what kind of car he drove, I would have never guessed that this was the man who has been pursuing me relentlessly the previous days. A man who I thought might have some potential.
This little “ticket” he prepared for me (inspired by a little “joke” from our first conversation) COULD have been so cute had a connection been there. Except that he kept calling me his “Princess”. And now the only connection is a possible pending protective order. Unfortunately now it’s only fuel for a post, and for giving me the creeps. Dating is stupid.
The crappiest part about it, even crappier than having a very mediocre first date, is how I felt telling him that I just “wasn’t feeling it”. The truth is is that this guy is pretty nice. Maybe a little over zealous, but nice just the same. I’ve been there… liking someone and not having that “like” returned. And it sucks. At least I was honest and (surprising, I know), as kind as I could possibly be.
I wish that I had felt chemistry. There is nothing better than that mutual connection. But I know all too well that it may take 10, or 902830, dates to find and feel it. Sigh. Wish me luck for the next time.
To my dear friends (and everyone else) who wonder how I’m doing… this video will bring you up to speed.
I don’t really (at least not everyone), but this did cheer me up 🙂
10- You drop off AND pick up your kids from school while wearing a pullover and pajama bottoms, along with CROCS thongs (orange and blue… yes, envision them), without having brushed your hair OR teeth.
9- Showering becomes optional.
8- Your social highlights of the week are your softball games. And you’re afraid for the softball season to end, because then what will you do with your free weeknights?!?
7- You’ve now accepted that you’ll probably never have sex again. And you’re OK with it.
6- On Tuesday you start to prepare for your weekend by wondering if you should up your Netflix subscription so that you will have more than just your standard 2 movies to get you through the weekend. And you start getting excited about the Chinese take-out you’re planning to order.
5- A dinner honoring your aunt and uncle is your exciting plan for a Friday night. And that dinner is in Logan.
4- You start making some goals for yourself like getting all five stars on every song in the medium level of Guitar Hero III, and then move onto the “hard” level, where you will conquer and defeat! ROCK!!!
3- You have no problem hugging and kissing your dog, even though you just watched him drink pee infested water out of the toilet that one of your kids failed to flush.
2- You re-commit yourself to the wonder and glory that is T.V by upgrading your cable from the most basic cable that has ever been known to man to a more exciting and channel encompassing plan because you plan on spending A LOT free time with your t.v. Like for time and all eternity.
1- You spend a free night (without children) at home in sweats and a t-shirt, eating french toast with butt firmly planted on the couch and manage to spill copious amounts of syrup all over your shirt. And the seemingly most reasonable and logical way to clean yourself up is by licking the syrup off of said shirt.
I’ve gone through 5 phones in 2 years. That’s got to be some kind of record. The weird thing is that I’m not hard on them or anything. I don’t drop them in water or bang them around. So the only other rational explanation is that I’m phone cursed.
My former boyfriend (former as of 30 hours ago) gave me one of his phones to use. Of course after 1 whole month it up started having serious issues (WFT!). So he gave me a second phone to use (which as of now is still in working order, knock on wood).
After yesterdays events I figured it might be possible that he would ask for one or both phones back. And seeing as there were some texts on the old (and slightly broken) phone between friends that were about him (texts that he may not appreciate), I thought it would be a good idea to attempt to go in and so some cleansing.
SHIT SHIT SHIT! Not the best idea, seeing as this dysfunctional phone decided to send a drafted (and formerly unsent, but not bad or insulting, just sort of random) text rather than delete it as I instructed it to do! SHIT! And no, I didn’t “accidentally” (but not really) send him a text. Really, I don’t want to have contact. It was a freak of nature or possibly my punishment for being me. Despite my ripping the battery out, it went through and of course a phone call followed.
I explained and apologized and said a quick goodbye. Grrr. So much for my “no contact for at least 60 days” mantra (cuz I figure after that amount of time I won’t really care if I talk to him or not, so there won’t be the temptation).
Well, here’s hoping that THIS phone lasts and that no other freakish text snafu occur. Maybe if I put my cell phone’s name in the temple prayer book it will last.
 Although I may be struck by lightning.
I ended my current relationship. Again. Right thing to do? Yup. Does it feel like crap. Yup. Woo hoo! I’m loving it.
*** CLARIFICATION: The break-up was NOT with the guy in my previous post, NOR was it a cause. Just a super fun coincidence 🙂
You might remember earlier this spring my little heart was filleted and sauteed by a certain jackass we’ll refer to as D.B. In case you need a refresher, here’s is the first post as well as the link to the second post addressing my heartbreak at the hands of this winner. You’re welcome, I’m just a giver like that.
So let’s recap (cuz you know I LOVE a good recap!):
Yes, I thought Captain Douche was out of my life for good. So you can imagine my jaw dropping shock that this dick would have the balls to EVER contact me again surprise when I receive the following emails (yep, that’s plural) through my myspace account this morning.
“Long time no chat, hoping you don’t hate my guts”
Followed with:
“New cell 360-****”
Hate your guts? HATE YOUR GUTS!!! And what does sending emails like that mean?!? No I’m sorry, just a casual “yo, what’s up. I’m a complete fuckwad, but I hope you still like me”. I’m seriously tempted to NOT protect the number and leave it out there, in hopes that one (or all) of you will call and harass, threaten, or in general just make life hell for him.
SO, what does it all mean?!
Luckily, because I may be a fool but I’m not stupid, AND there is this thing called myspace, I have an few ideas.
First of all, on his myspace account, his little quote is “Ya’ll are gonna keep fucking around with me, and turn me back into the old me”. ALSO, his mood is BETRAYED. Sniff. Meaning? That he just got screwed over by a girl. Karma, ain’t she a bitch! And he’s feeling a little down. A little depressed. In need of a confidence boost. That’s where I come in.
***SIDE NOTE: He stole my myspace headline. STOLE IT STRAIGHT UP! WTF.
Secondly, D.B., do you really think I am SOOOOO needy for affection that I’d revisit hell again just for a little of yours? You were an asshole to me in the worst possible way. A covert one. Do I hate your guts? No, I just wish you were dead.
So here’s where you all (yeah, all 3 of you) come in. How do I handle this? Do I completely ignore it? Do I write some big saga of a response? Do I write a very short but “clear” scathing email? Or do I just start crank calling him?
Ok, so I’m not proud, but I actually just watched about 3 minutes of the Maury Povich show. I’m pretty sure that every episode has something to do with people cheating, impregnating someone, and the DNA test to prove it.
It’s a pretty stupid show. BUT it got me thinking. What is it with people? I’ve had a number of friends (and yes, almost all of them are men) that have cheated on their wives, and for what? Sex with someone new is exciting, but it too, just like a new car or puppy, becomes regular and loses appeal after the newness wears off.
I know that women cheat. But statistically the numbers are lower for females. And since I’ve always been faithful, I’m going to talk about men.
Is sex with someone else SO appealing that you are willing to risk relationships with those around you to get a little fresh beaver? And no, I don’t feel sad for you, even though you cry, beg and plead for forgiveness. All I want to do is slap you in the back of the head and ask you if it was worth it.
The best… the pure sugar coated icing… is when the cheater is angry when their significant other won’t forgive them. What is it that you expected?!? That you’d stick your dick in someone else, say your sorry, and all would be forgiven? That’d be really cute and all, but it’s just not reality.
So people, here is my advice for you. Sex is great and all, but no sex is good enough to make cheating worth it. Stop being selfish and take your penis out of your head and THINK. I know that we’ve become a society of immediate gratification. But there is something to be said for living for the long term. There are always consequences for your actions, good and bad.
My rant is over.
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