I'm Cranky Like Your Grandma

J-Bird didn't sleep well last night. Which led to J-Bird waking up at 10:30p, 1:30a, and again at 4:12 this morning. This led to J-Bird referring to herself in the third person like a douche, so we're just gonna stop that now.

You see, The Scorpio spent the night.

Wait. Let me back up.

He's decided that he wants to be a better man. Which is why he's making some real life changes and partnering with successful men. The Scorpio is finally getting serious about his dreams and goals for himself and accepting that all of this will tie in to his professional dreams and goals. I know because he talked a lot at dinner. Where'd we go? To a local Irish Pub chain, thanks for asking. I had the chicken fingers and onion rings with a glass of Malbec... because I'm classy.

So, we're in this pub and he starts to talk about how open they are to people of all backgrounds (provided you pass the background check), statuses, races, and creeds. He never knew something like this existed (cue my skeptical face because this is America for Christ's sake). But he's in love with an organization and I'm the only one who knows because I'm super smart and figured out the riddle without a decoder ring. Boom!

Then we start to talk about our relationship (as he is wont to do) and told me the biggest thing he thinks has changed about me (I'm more focused and know what I want) and wanted to know what I thought was his biggest change (he shows empathy and is more caring). But theeeen, he asked if I thought I could work things out with the guy I kinda dated before him but it wasn't really a relationship because it just wasn't. And I told him no. That the stuff that broke down between me and that guy just can't be rebuilt into a healthy, adult relationship.

And when he didn't ask about us, I thought I'd give him a piece of what he was asking for. The T-R-U-T-H about our relationship (my side of it) is that I never really believed that The Scorpio wanted to be with me. I mean, he messaged me on a social networking site. Everyone knows that's booty call material (have you seen He's Just Not That Into You)? I also told him that I felt like Charlotte did when she proposed to herself. Then I remembered that he's a guy and therefore doesn't have a trough full of Sex and the City episodes with which to compare his life. Let me set the scene.

One hot summer night, Nat came into town for the weekend and me and all the Party Girls were throwing her a celebration. I brought The Scorpio because I thought it was time. No, we hadn't talked about being official but we were always together and I wanted to be official. Meeting the friends? Totally official, right! The Party Girls didn't know what to do because I'd never brought a guy around before so this must have been serious. They all loved him. He and I sat in the door sill and watched everyone get drunk. I was tucked in his arms, looked up and said, "I'm not seeing anyone else. Do you want to see anyone else?". He shook his head no and that was it. That was all I ever got. Granted, my speech wasn't eloquent in the least but I was hoping for... something.

I spent all summer waiting for him to say that this was what he wanted but he never did. And as the days grew longer, my patience grew shorter and I started to question why I was with him anyway. We had other issues as well. His phone for one. His attitude toward everything. His perpetual lateness. His sense of entitlement. But when you're in a relationship where you don't feel like the other person is in it for you, all of the little things that are normally overlooked become glaring abnormalities that make you feel foolish and used. And when I got tired of being used, I lashed out and walked away.

He did not and has not responded.

There's definitely something missing between that conversation and this next one but I cannot tell you what it is. So, we will jump to where he told me that some girls have a problem with just being his friend and feel like they own him even though they don't. Like the girl that was talking shit to me on Twitter. My head snapped up and I was all, "Ummm... excuse me? What?". Because even though the chick mentioned me, I didn't get a notification. So he showed it to me and she's all "@JBird* @TheScorpio* get off his dick. so transparent". This made me angry so I told him that I had a video camera at my place and that I was prepared to "send this bitch tape" of me riding his dick.

I guess he didn't know I could be so evil. But he begged asked me calmly not to do or say anything to her because he doesn't want the drama. So, then I had a thought. I had been chosen. This excited me! Fast forward to him being at my apartment. I checked to see what K-Dubs was barking at and when I got back he was under the covers. I was tre' confused and asked why he was set up to spend the night when he told me that he just wanted to be prepared. I still don't know what for. Especially since it was only 9:45.

I put on The Other Bolyn Girl and he was snoring in about 3 minutes. But at 10:30, I almost fell off the bed because I had been laying precariously on the edge with my feet already hanging over the side. And at 1:30, I got hit in the face. So, at 4:30 when I woke up to him laying in the exact middle of the bed, with his head on my pillow, and his pillow tucked safely against his body, I was done. I woke him up gently and asked if he was ready to go home. He was in his own bed by 5. I should have gone back to sleep but instead I did a 45 minute cardio workout followed by 10 minutes of yoga.

Now, I'm exhausted. I've been up for way too long already. And part of me can't stop thinking about how he off-handedly mentioned that I should have stayed to see the second game on Sunday because I missed his touchdown. While the other part of me is like THIS DUDE SLEEPS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BED! I know which side I'm listening to though. It's the side that can't wait to crawl back into my bed... alone.

* Not our real Twitter aliases

Iiiii Wanna Sexx You Up!

Ed Note: Please do not pretend like you don't know this song or this "band". I never realized how lame I was back then until I looked at this picture and was all, "Ha! These guys are a bunch of douches! LOL". I feel like this guy. Wishing I hadn't just spent my morning watching the ridiculousness that is Color Me Badd videos.

This morning whilst in the shower, I took a look at my gams and was all, "Holy shit I need to shave!". But I didn't. Because I am super awesome. And I want to find a cure against cancer. So, I decided that the best way to do that was to be a part of Movember. Secretly. I'm not like this guy, putting my biz out on the innet (yes, I know and we will get to that later) for the whole world to see and get all judgy about.

If you think that I'm all pissy about my legs being hairy then you don't know me well. I'm upset because my leg hair is patchy. Like high school freshman patchy. There are openly bald spots on my legs. And a wayward follicle that seems to represent a cow lick.

All I could think about was how glad I was that I decided to forgo shaving my legs and not my pits. I'd never get laid if my pits looked like this! But then I remembered that I'm not exactly getting laid anyway. Which only made me more upset. You know what they say. Sex is like air...

So now I'm fantasizing about that time I was hitting the streets every weekend and should have been getting paid for my valiant efforts. Which made me think about my sneaky days when I still lived at home. Which made me think about the time I witnessed my mom having sex. *vuuuuurrrrrpppp*

It's not my fault. It was my boyfriend's fault. I was so young and impressionable. He was older and on the football team. And he was all freaky and wanted to do it in my parent's bedroom. I protested but then he looked at me all melty-eyed and I forgot my own name.

But then we heard the front door slam. And there was so much banging and thrashing about. My parents were home! And we were in their room. So he jumped into the closet and I went about trying to straighten up. He leaned out and grabbed me right as they burst through the door. Undressing. Kissing.

I wanted to scream but my boyfriend put his hand over my mouth and whisper-yelled, "Shut up!". There was much silent crying. The boyfriend was fascinated by mom's agility. I was trying to dig out my eardrums with her stilettos. We both just sat in the closet and waited.

It seemed like it was three years later when they finally let up. And I thank God every day that my step-dad is a dirty whore who doesn't shower and change after sex. But I can never seem to forget that day, not even with intense therapy. Couple that with the time after her divorce when Nat and I walked in on her humping a Mexican and you can see why I take prescription meds.

All that to say, my Mom's a freak. And I was preoccupied with that thought when I went out to pre-heat my car this morning. I was fully clothed sans overcoat but the guy standing by my dumpster had no shirt on and looked like the kind of person that would not have his wireless connection password protected therefore allowing me to pilfer his "innet". He had back boobs, jelly rolls, and... a hump! A bonafide, oh-my-gosh, that-can't-be, am-i-sure, it-so-is-a hump. Right over his tail bone.

Horniness - 0. Trauma - 2.

Oh! My! Gaaawwwwwddddd!!! LOOK AT THIS!