Things HG Has Taught Me

1. I don't miss having a roommate. - I never knew how much I valued my privacy until I lost 60% of it.

2. I miss having a roommate. - Knowing that someone is in the other room makes the quiet much more bearable. Plus there's someone to talk to, watch TV with, and make big meals for.

3. I am super controlling. - He pretty much tells me this everyday. And I show it in a variety of ways like... rewashing dishes and adjusting the vents on the room freshener.

4. I receive love through actions. - I came home and he had washed the dishes *and* walked the dog. I literally cried with relief.

5. I have had a lot more experiences than the average person. - HG's never been further west than Vegas, didn't know about 'eat-in' taxes, and is living his hardest life right now.

6. I am blessed. - If only to be a blessing.

7. I have a lot of shit I don't need. - Everything he needs to sustain himself can fit into his car. I want to be more like that.

8. Boys. Eat. A. Lot. - I always think I remember that fact until I watch one eat a large fry, half of my hot dog, and wash it down with a chocolate shake. Seriously, I was awe- stricken.

9. Boys will eat anything. - Including turkey burgers they cook in the microwave. (Blech!)

10. Even the most forward people can be passve-aggressive. - HG: I think I'll head home to Pittsburgh.
Me: *furrowed brows*
HG: I don't wanna assume I can just keep staying here.
Me: *head tilt*
HG: Just wanna throw that out there.
Me: I said you can stay for 30 days. Its been 6.
HG: Oh.

11. Boys observe what needs to be done and ignore it. Men observe what needs to be done and do it. - He washed the dishes, cleaned the bathroom and regularly takes out the trash.

12. I'm not used to feeling loved and appreciated. - This sounds crazy because I always say that I don't do stuff for people expecting to get something in return. But God, its nice to get something in return. Without asking or nagging or bitching.

13. God has a very strong, very patient man in store for me. - As HG put it, "You're kind of whiny and controlling".

14. Watching the same movie three times in one weekend will make me crazy. - NO MORE 'COUPLES RETREAT'.

15. Boys don't notice when things are getting worse but they can readily identify when something is better. -

Me: What's that smell?
HG: What?
Me: That smell. Smell it?
HG: *deep inhale through nostrils* No.
Me: My house is supposed to smell like apples and cinnamon. It doesn't smell like apples and cinnamon.
HG: *totally disinterested* Hmmm...
Me:(mentally) I have to fix this!
********** 4 hours later HG comes back **********
HG: It smells good in here.
Me: Really?
HG: Yeah, better than before.
Me: *content and proud* Its Angel Whispers (by Glade, y'all!).
HG: *still disinterested* Hmmm...

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Little Family

Sometimes, the last thing you want in life is to spend time with someone who seems to have everything you want in life.

I spent five whole days with Averi and her little family - husband E and toddler Claire - and I thought it would break me. That seeing her in her tank tops and pedal pushers lounging in the backyard with peach daiquiri in hand and Claire running through the Elmo sprinkler on a Friday afternoon would leave me in tears.

I worried that watching her interact with the man who knew he loved her before he ever held her hand, the man who got up every morning and worked hard to make their ends meet, the man who told her that what he needed most was for her to be home taking care of him, their house, and their daughter would fill me with rage.

I was afraid that being around that much love and trust and respect would make my life feel empty. But I didn't feel that way at all. I felt hopeful, confident, and encouraged that I could have that too. And that's nice to think about.

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

Marry Me Already!!! (AKA Happenings From My Weekend)

This weekend was so refreshingly busy.

I spent some time with The Scorpio on Thursday. It started off rocky because I came very close to slipping into one of my sullen moods. But he's very perceptive and (apparently) hard of hearing so I when I tried to explain what was going on in my head his words of comfort made no sense and got me laughing instead. We also argued over the virtue of tipping your server. He doesn't believe in it. I used to serve. The discussion ended with me demanding that he either a) give me the money he owed me so that I could tip or b) use said money to do the tipping himself. I always win.

Friday? I don't really know what I did on Friday except for panic because my body was acting funny. I also fended off the Red Cross lady because my iron has been so low for the last 3 months that I've been deferred 3 times. I haven't gone back to my doctor about it though. I'm in that place of denial where I just don't want to know. Because if I know then I have to do something about it. And the last time she and I agreed to "do something" about it I ended up taking 3 pills a day trying to make my body right.

If you know me, then you know how I hate supplements and pills and Western medicine in general. I'm just going to work fitness back into my life, eat better (goodbye fried foods!), and manage my stress levels. I'm giving myself a 3 month hiatus from worrying about anyone that's not me. (Ha! I say that but it'll last about a day maybe a day and a half).

Saturday, I got up early and did my morning workout. I've started TurboFire and I really do love it. I also spent some time just snuggling with my doggie because I knew I'd be gone all day. By, 2p I was at my babysitting gig and ready to take over my charges. It was for a couple I've known for years and they've been going through some rough times as a family so my work was pro-bono. The mom and dad hadn't been out together in over 3 months and even I could tell that they needed some time alone. So, off they went and it was just me, their pre-teen (Brynne age 11) and their toddler (Jimbo age 3). Jimbo is newly potty trained and the discovery of his penis has been mon-u-men-tal. He showed it to me first thing and then I got to see his butt. CBS111 was right when she said having a straight face and a disinterested tone would save me from having to see it again unnecessarily. (Thank you!)

Brynne's been friends with April and Rebecca since kindergarten so she was kind of let down when I didn't have them with me. I promised that she'd get some time with them soon enough and made her start on her homework. It's not the most popular thing a babysitter can do but I needed her to be busy while I cleaned the kitchen. (You should have seen this kitchen! I can't stand dirty bathrooms and kitchens. Those are the two most important rooms in the house, people! Seriously!) After I gave everything, including the cabinets and trash can, a good scrubbing, we put our sweatshirts and sneakers on and took a bike ride to the park.

Jim peddled his big wheel the whole way to the park and only asked me to push him up the hills because "there must be something wrong with [his] wheels". It's cute, I know. But my back said that he needed to learn how to peddle harder. We got to the park and he played his heart out on the play equipment. Brynne was feeling melancholy and Jimbo had used the porta potty so I felt like it was time to go and get dinner started. No sooner than we get their bikes put away, my mom pulls up with April and Becca. Brynne about wet herself with excitement.

I got outvoted for pizza 4:1 (obviously, none of them know the value of a dollar) and they set to doing kid things while I finished picking up the play room. Rebecca, my buddy, my pal, my fellow *NSYNC lover, starts singing "Gone" and I'm taken back to Senior year when that album ruled my life and I still loved JC (before he started messing with Tara Reid). When Brynne yells out "OK, enough of the oldies!". I almost smacked someone else's child but instead tweeted it with the hash tag #GoneCameOutMySrYearAndImNotOldPunk. But I certainly felt old when I calculated how old I would be when they graduated in 2016, 2018, and 2019 (we won't even do the math on little man). *sigh*

They played themselves silly and we were all in bed by 10p.

Image found here

Sunday, I got up and made some fluffy blueberry pancakes with sugared-strawberries. The kids threw down and the adults had coffee and conversation. Brynne and Jimbo got ready for church and I hauled April and Becca home. I raced to take care of my dog and just made it to The Scorpios flag football game in time. I met two young ladies with the sweetest 3-year-old I've ever seen and we talked and laughed and had good conversation. When the game ended, I was ready to bounce but they told me that there was a second game. No way!

I asked The Scorpio and he said that indeed there was a second game and it was right now. Then he picked up the 3YO I'd been playing with. You know, the young ladies' niece. Oh. My. God. I'd been talking with his sisters (the two I don't know) for an hour. Then I started to notice things like how one of the ladies actually has his same eyes and complexion. Or how she'd been saying "Tariq this" and "Tariq that" for the last hour. Only she pronounces it "Tear-ick" and I've always assumed its "Tah-reek". I vaguely remember an adolescent who played catch with The Scorpio in the park when we dated way back when. But this kid? "Tear-ick"? He was at least 5'9" with a moustache! This can't be the same little boy who idolized my boyfriend.

And that other kid that looks just like The Scorpio did when he was 13, I am *just* now noticing him. I could feel the intense heat of his entire family burning a hole through me. I mean, you have to understand. Our relationship never got that serious. He only met my family because I was a transitioning into my mom's townhouse while she was buying her house. I've seen his grandmother but that's because he lives with her. I've never actually been inside the house. Having unknowingly spent an hour with his family, having them all stare at me like I'd sprouted a second head, and not having him as a buffer caused me to high-tail it out of there. And it inspired a short conversation between the two of us later. I just looooove how he can laugh at everything that causes me stress. It's so supportive.

Anywho, all I did after that was workout and laundry. My place has been cleaner lately so I didn't have any clutter or anything wearing on my nerves. All that to say, what did you do this weekend?

Are There Words Between Those Lines?

Lately, The Scorpio has been much more open. If that can even be said about Scorpios. They are notoriously silent. Which drives me absolutely insane! Because how I am supposed to know what you're thinking if you don't open your mouth?! But I digress.

The Scorpio has been much more open. Sunday night, we talked about our pasts. I rambled on through every relationship from age 14 to him and he just sat there in wonder. You might say that it was a bad idea but I don't think it was. It won't kill him to know where I've been. And depending on how he reacts to the information, I may decide to tell him how I got through it. Partial information is better than none at all, right?

Sometimes, I chastise myself for being so obsessive about everything. Sometimes, my obsession comes in handy. I'm not good at putting information together right away. Not that I'm slow or mentally handicapped, I just happen to take everything at face value.

For instance, CBS111 was telling me about a great part-time opportunity and she was so excited and I was totally bringing her down because I was giving her the weirdest face. How could she be excited about a customer service position? Didn't we deal with enough of other people's problems during the day? Why would she want to do this at night? I didn't say anything positive or negative because I checked out and couldn't put anything she was saying into context.

If she had told me that her part-time opportunity was in a pharmacy, then I would have been properly excited for her. I know that she's always dreamed of a profession in medicine. But she didn't say that, so I couldn't comprehend her excitement. Sure, she said that she had to wear scrubs. And yes, I knew that the woman she was referencing worked in a pharmacy but none of that came together inside my head. And when I (finally) realized what it is that she would be doing (only because I asked and she told me outright), I shared in her excitement.

That's pretty much how it works with me.

So, when The Scorpio said that he didn't notice me until he met my sister, my response was, "In high school? She would have been a freshman". He responded yes, he'd noticed me in high school. So I scoffed and was all "I was a Senior. Trust that I didn't know who you were". And then I proceeded with my original thought because he rudely interrupted me with his memory of the day he saw me. Don't get me wrong. My senior year was my only year at that school. (Technically, I got enrolled on April 11th of my Junior year but since I had to have my class schedule corrected twice and I walked to work immediately after school, the only person I knew was my guidance counselor.)

And like I said before, Nat started high school my senior year and I spent the whole first semester trying to ditch her. Not because I didn't love her but because I knew it had to be done. She'll remember it as me being too cool but even then she was my best friend. The problem was that I had so many credits that I would only need 2 classes in the second semester and I knew that. If Nat didn't make friends now, she'd be screwed when that time came. Plus, she's super timid and wasn't going to do it on her own. She needed the push. She joined a couple of sports teams and found her niche. My job was done.

I remember hearing The Scorpio's name in passing because of Homecoming but I know they didn't actually make it to the dance. And then she started dating the quarterback and I heard his name over and over and over again. Actually, some super petty girls were so jealous that they came to the restaurant I worked at to tell me that my sister was at Homecoming with the starting quarterback and I should tell my parents because he was not a nice guy. Hahahaha! Fat girls are a trip.

Anyways, it wasn't until three hours later when I was laying on my couch alone and already bored with the NCAA Championship game that I remembered what he said. He noticed me in high school. That was ten years ago. How can he remember that day so clearly when I can't even remember what I wore on our first date? Was it really that important to him? Why do I always catch on so late?

So, that's what I'm currently obsessing over. There are other things he's shared with me and I can say that I'm touched. It takes a lot of trust to get him to open up and I like that he trusts me (or is a really good actor). He told me some other stuff too but given his penchant for privacy I won't disclose them. I did tell him though that we could have been this close for a YEAR now and that I can't believe all that time was wasted. He tried to blame me for misinterpreting things but I told him I didn't want to fight about it. We're just going to say he was wrong and call it a day.

If You Give A Mouse A Cookie...

Then you'll have to start carrying cookies with you everywhere you go just in case you see the mouse because now he has expectations.

The Scorpio and I had sex. It was unadventurous and I did not give it my best shot. Actually, I was kinda pissy the whole time. But he wouldn't allow that to deter him.

My problem? He now thinks that everytime we're in the same room together we're supposed to have sex. Or if we travel in the same vehicle and pass my house? He wonders why we didn't stop to get it on. Sunday, he informed me that it's been "so long" since he's had sex. It's been 11 days. Eleven. I feel like he needs to give the whining a break.

Yes, I know its my fault. And no, I have not told my therapist. But he's really killing me right now what with being so damned agreeable and attentive. I don't like it. If I start liking it then things will change and I don't want that.

I guess what I'm saying is that I like where our relationship is right now.

We can get together and do the mundane like shop for football cleats and computer software. We can have spirited arguments, like how Chris Brown could personally fund a battered woman's shelter and I STILL wouldn't let him play that son-of-a-bitch's CD in my car. We can laugh and joke and have lunch and be friends.

But sometimes, when he looks at me, I can tell he wants more than friendship. Other times, when he puts his hands on me, I am *sure* that he wants more than friendship. I've been completely honest with him and I believe that he knows where I stand but that doesn't mean he'll stop trying. Maybe I don't want him to stop trying? I'm not sure.

What I do know is that he wasn't *this* attentive when we were dating. I do like the attention but I don't like where it could lead. I have a well-known tendency to let the Scorpio to trample on my emotions. I will pat myself on the back and applaud my ability to keep my mother out of this whole thing. My stress levels are thanking me.

Anyways, that's what's going on there.

ohemgee! She's so cute! via Little Brownie Bakery's website

A hearty THANK YOU! to Mrs. G for saving Klea's life and giving me a sleeve of Thin Mints. She says that it's from the kindness of her heart but I'm sure there are other reasons. =)

I'm Not Being A Good Friend

He deserved better.

The Scorpio, I mean. He deserved so much better than I gave him this weekend.

Because for some reason, I was in one God-awful mood. And while he did his best to take it in stride, I did my absolute best immitation of a psychotic shrew.

I'm not gonna lie. In the land of blame, it's 20% his fault and only 80% mine.

It started on Wednesday when he asked me if I wanted to "hang out". I went to college. I had the experience. I know the boy definition of "hang out". And so I told him no. But that wasn't good enough. He pushed and pushed and pushed until I told him that I wouldn't be free until Saturday.

But he was soooo booooooored. Didn't I know that? I told him again that I was busy. And that was that. Until Friday night. He wanted to come over. And normally, I wouldn't have been opposed except I didn't want him over my dirty house, that was covered in dust and dog dander and I was wrapped in a blanket half asleep anyway.

But he wouldn't let it go. I said that we would be friends. And I said that we would hang out anytime either of us wanted. And I was being completely unfair to him right now. And please, please, pleeeeeeeeeease. He wasn't doing anything and I wasn't doing anything and we could just do nothing togeeeeetheeeeer.

First, I was peeved because he misquoted me. What I said was, "...either of us can call when we wanna hang out..." which in no way implies that you'll get a yes. And then I was upset because I had said no at least a dozen times. I hate to repeat myself. If I have to repeat myself it's because you're either A) not listening to what I say or B) don't care about what I want. Neither of which are acceptable.

I could hear my therapist telling me to stay strong and finally I just stopped responding to his messages. Then I vented on Facebook, deleted the entire string of messages, and digitally removed The Scorpio from my life. All of which made me feel loads better and I slept like a baby.

Saturday morning, I woke up before dawn and got more done before noon than I have since the first snow. I was so proud of myself; still am actually. I am addicted to telling all of my business and therefore made sure I tweeted the day's adventures non-stop. I had just taken a seat in my living room when The Scorpio texted me again.

What was I doing? Thinking about dinner. Did I want to go do something? Immediately, I responded with, "Are you asking me for sex?". To which he says that he wants to grab a bite to eat first and then maybe that. LOL. Hahaha. So muthasucking funny. I was all "Fine. Whatever you want." and was thinking "because it's ALWAYS about you! It's ALWAYS about what The Scorpio wants even though its the rest of us that have to do all the fucking work". I didn't say that because it's so mean. Even I know that!

And then seven minutes later, I told him that I wasn't in the mood to be anywhere near him if only because he pisses me off. He was completely confused. I got angrier. Why was he confused? Why should I do what he wants? I JUST WANT TO SHAVE MY LEGS! How dare he accuse me of reading too much into our friendship? Who the hell did he think he was? My house wasn't clean enough for guests! I told him that there was no decency in the way he was treating me because I am not a whore and will not be petitioned for sex! By text message no less!

You can see how none of that makes sense. Now that I've re-read it a dozen times, I can see why he was confused. Plus he pointed out that I was the one that mentioned sex therefore getting his hopes all up. And he really just wants to be friends if I'll let him. I calmed down enough to actually have a meal but I didn't get any saner nicer.

I might have told him that I didn't trust him. And I could have said that he needed the survey that comes on every dinner check more than I did. It is possible that I interrupted him while speaking a hundred or so times. Perhaps, there was a moment when my head spun 'round when he called me by his sister's name. Which, while in the midst of my fury, I accused him of having NO SISTERS AT ALL when I know full well that he has three and I'm super tight with one.  I absolutely told him to "pick a damned restaurant! [Because] I can't stand a man who won't make a decision!". I may have told him that sex with him was... *pause, pause, pause* "good?". Yes, three pauses. I thought he might die.

I cannot explain my behavior in any way. I was just suuuuuuuper bitchy. And he took it like a champ. Except for the third time he told me not to interrupt him anymore. He actually growled that through clenched teeth. And he asked me what the fuck my problem was when I made the check comment. He might have screamed out his sister's name is angst because I was yelling like a banshi and he said that it took him back to fights with her.

And then on the ride home he said, "Haha. Your car smells like food". And immediately, I was thanking him on complimenting my pina colada car freshener. I had looked so hard for one that was girly but not too overpowering. It's hard to find good, long-lasting car fresheners, ya know? For him to be all, "I said food. Not drinks". My face was so sad which inspired him to sing, "Payback is a biiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch".

I earned that one.

What's In a Name?

Editor's Note: I still don't feel like myself on most days. I'm slowly getting back to the place where I can enjoy life. With that being said, here's part two of Peter Pan's story.

Shakespeare once asked, "Whats in a name?". He wrote, "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet". * He also penned more than a hundred phrases that still resonate to the core of our beings. Willie related the beauty of a woman to the brightness and glory of the sun. If it had been him that called me by the wrong name, I'd have been fine.

I only bring it up because Peter Pan called me by the wrong name. In a text message! Which we all know is his favorite method of communication.

It started out innocently enough. He wanted to say "Hey". But he didn't say just Hey. He said, "Hey JBard". I first brushed it off because C'mon! Right? It's just a typo. Damn You Auto Correct! But then he did it again and again.

It was only because he kept texting me that I finally called him. Well, that and his persistent texting caused me to have a caustic reaction in the ice cream aisle of my grocery store. Imagine standing in the frozen treats aisle debating with your partner over the benefits of getting the name brand ice cream on sale versus the store brand just because it's cheaper, when a crazy, overweight lady whose pocket keeps ringing bursts out with "Uuuuuuugggggghhhhhh! What the hell do you want?!?". That would freak you out, right? Well it freaked out the lady in the aisle with me so I totally rolled my eyes at her, snatched my phone from my pocket and dialed the mo.

He says, "Hey J-Beard"
Me: Hey
PP: I miss you
Me: That's weird. We don't even know each other well enough for that.
Because, really? People! It's been like 48, maybe 56, hours.

He proceeded to tell me that he wanted to know me. If I gave him a chance to know me that I wouldn't regret it. It was creepy. I told him that I had to go because I was busy and that I would call him when I wasn't busy. We hung up and... almost immediately... he texted me. Peter Pan wanted to know if our date for Wednesday was still on. Actually, he wanted to know "our meetin on wednesday cumin on".

Firstly, I was angry that he was even texting me because I know I just said I was busy before I hung up the damned phone. Secondly, why would he spell "come" like that! Ewah! Plus, he had spelled my name wrong... again. And had managed to say it wrong on the phone. Now, I'll give the pronunciation to the whole accent thing but I told him how to spell my name. He's just doing it on purpose at this point.

When he asked me to meet him at 7p on Wednesday, I told him that I wasn't going anywhere with someone who didn't know my name. He acted all confused and wrote, "Am sorry just shorten your name". And then proceeded without shame to say, "I want us meet where u wil feel comfortable there is a bar in de mall I would like us meet over there if it is ok wit u If u have a place in mind u can out wit it".

My head almost exploded in grammatical anger.

Then he asked me if I was still busy. Like 20 seconds after that written assault on the English language. By now I'm all over Facebook with the ridiculousness of this whole tale because how can you spell and say my name wrong then think that we're still on for a date? How! I've also let Av know that her crime will not go unpunished and I can only think of one way for her to make penance: free beers.

I tell him yes, that I'm busy and then I proceed to spell my full name. J-B-I-R-D. I tell him that calling me JBeard or JBard is not the same and that he needs to stop. Now. That it's really starting to piss me off. He apologizes and then says that he'll explain it to me when we meet and wants to know if I'm driving or if he's picking me up. I'm all "No. You'll explain it to me now".

And then he tells me that he has a cousin named Joyous Beardlandia and they call her J-Beard for short. And because my name is J Hypen Bird and the two names are so similar he thought that I'd go by J-Beard also. Am I ok now? Do I understand? Problem is not only do I *not* understand but I lose my shit!

I tell him that I don't believe him. How can it be that he calls me the wrong name by TEXT? He had to spell it out AFTER I had spelled it out.

He wanted me to explain why I think he would lie to me. What would he gain? He was even willing to show me her picture when the time was right. I had pierced his little, African soul with my distrust. I didn't even know him. Peter Pan assured me that he would never lie to me for any reason. Was I clear now?

All I had for him was, "Yeah, well, it hurts when someone can't get your name right".

He plead his case all night. And I ignored him until the sun came up and he texted me, "Gudmornin JBurn n have a guday at wk".

In my best angry text font I told him that he was just doing it on purpose now, spelling my name wrong. And that it was mean and hurtful. Peter Pan was told not to call or text me anymore. Wednesday was off and I wasn't interested.

Willie asked what's in a name. But the truth is he already knew. Names, love them or hate them, make up who we are at our core. To ignore that is to ignore our greatest self. And there's no way I'm going to let some punk with an accent and a mommy complex do that to me.

*from Romeo and Juliet

Is Forgiveness Appropriate Here?

The Scorpio and I had dinner on Friday. What's important to note is that I didn't kill him. What's second to that is that I actually laughed with him. What's tearing me up inside is that I'm ready to forgive him.

If you don't know the chapter of my life that is the Scorpio Saga then I'm sorry but I'm not going to recount it here. You can read this post again but I don't know if that would help because there was a major fall out in the summer to which he claims to have no recollection. That is why this man drives me nuts.

He can be acutely aware that I'm angry but still hasn't accepted that I'm a champion grudge holder. He thought that because I yelled at him in June that I was totally over it now. But I told him that there was no way he was getting off that easy. Some of the things he said to me were over-the-top and utterly ridiculous.

To which he said he was sorry. He admitted that he was an asshole and he didn't realize how much until after I broke up with him. He said he wants to earn back the level of trust I had in him when we were first together. How can you be mad at that? Well, how can I be mad at that?

We sat in hard, wooden chairs for more than three hours and just talked. I felt like I was getting to know who he was for the first time in all the years we've known each other. And it was... nice.

The atmosphere was relaxed. We mixed jokes with more serious conversation and laid out all of our concerns on the table. There were tales of our relationship past that we each remembered differently. Apparently, I was so tired one night that, when he tried to initiate sex, I told him, "Do what you want. I'm going to sleep". Which sounds exactly like something I would say.

We talked about the break up and it seems we both feel like we broke up at different times. I feel like it was the day I told him that I couldn't date him anymore because he was a mooch that wanted me to rent a car for him and his friends to drive to Tennessee. But we did sleep together for an entire winter after that. And he might have seen me with someone else and been outraged that I would cheat on him! But I didn't think I was cheating because I thought I had broken up with him hence my nonchalant attitude.

He thinks the day we broke up was the day we sat in my car and I told him that we were only going to be friends from that point on. The Scorpio even broke down what I was wearing and how my hair looked. He says that I cried and I did. I remember that night. I cried because I wanted him to have a reaction and instead he just stared out the windshield and (after a prolonged silence) said "What if that's not what I want". To which I responded that he didn't have a choice because I was seeing someone else and I wasn't going to cheat on that guy with him. So, he got out of the car and we didn't talk again until last April. Even when we saw each other out at the same place, we'd just nod and move on.

I don't know how to explain all of this except to say that I miss him. I really, truly miss having him around. He's the only person I know that will let me snuggle with him, drool on him and snore loudly without complaining. He's always ready to go out and have fun and he dresses me better than any of my gay friends ever could. You can't buy that in a store.

I guess what I'm saying is: "Sometimes you forgive people simply because you want them in your life." - The Noteboook. It's not the most profound thing I've ever read but it is simple enough to be true. And it totally allows me to justify my feelings. That'll have to work.

So You Are Her Only Friend, Aren't You?

I love Averi. That's not a secret. I've known her for almost as long as I've lived in this state but the crazy thing is that we don't really know each other at all. Every time she comes into town, we find out more about each other that's what makes our bond that even closer.

Actually, I think that's why everybody loves Av. She's so optimistic and hopeful that it just rubs off on you. She has complete trust in everyone she's ever met. Some people (*ahem! ahem!* *cough-yells "Staci!") take advantage of her good nature and kind heart. This is another one of those stories.

The weekend I met Peter Pan, I was only out running the street because Av begged me to go to our old haunt, Ye Old Haunt. So, maybe she didn't beg. But there was some serious pleading. We stopped going to this place in like 2006... for good reason. There was a band playing and I love live music so I was all 'meh. I guess so.' and she was all 'YAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!' because she was working double time to have all of her favorite people there and so far she was uber successful.

She pre-warned me that Aly would be there. Which if you knew the history between Aly and me you'd be all "GASP!" but it's really not that big of a deal anymore. Because I'm an adult and it happened THREE YEARS AGO.

Anyway, I'm leaving Steve's bar and driving in my car trying not to cry because I didn't bring backup mascara when I call to find out if there's cover. Honestly, I was trying to get out of it because I didn't feel like dealing with Aly or Staci and the idea of having the two of them in the same 30' x 45' beer-soaked proximity was more than my soul was prepared to bear. But Av told me not to act like I didn't know how to avoid paying cover and to get my ass down there already because I was her ride. Great.

I found an ATM that dispenses in fives (Totes!) and made my way to the side of Ye Olde Haunt. I found a middle-aged, clean-shaven guy wearing a sweatshirt, baggy jeans, and a lonely expression and asked to bum a cig. He gave me his OMG-I-can't-believe-a-girl-is-talking-to-me smile and was quick to oblige. I fake puffed, he made awkward conversation and then I sat on the railing, so I could straddle the railing, so I could just swing my other leg over when he inevitably asked me if I wanted a beer. Cover-free entry granted.

I make the mandatory lap and find Averi, Staci and Aly up front with 4 other chicks I've never met and all of their collective girl crap on a huge amp. No one is talking. Awesome.

Av makes introductions and it seems like everyone standing there is her friend and not Staci's. Weird, right? How is it that we're eight people deep and the only one who wants to be in this place is Staci? But none of her friends came? So, why are we suffering? Nobody knows.

Aly and I make up without saying the words but that's only because we found a common enemy in Staci. That chick is nasty. She was angry that I didn't want to stay at Ye Olde Haunt because Did I See That Bass Player? She was totally gonna get him tonight. I told her he better drill her like he's J. R. Ewing and she's unchartered oil land because his band sucked and I was tired of listening to them. She got braggy about how she'd had sex in each bathroom and the bar and the stage and how this place had her name all over it.

I thought Aly was going to cry she was so disgusted. She picked up her stuff and clutched it to her chest, "That bathroom?", she said, "The one I just threw up in? OMG! It's so nasty in there!". I confirmed that Staci was just grody and bathroom sex is nothing to be proud of. I mean, what girl hasn't been propostioned. The key is to know that you're better than that and decline it. This gave Staci sad face. Besides, "[they] put down a jacket". Riiight... that totally makes it better.

Staci got super huffy and tried to go on about how she gets more ass than a toilet seat because of course she does. Staci is that girl that's still in the bar at 3:00AM. You know the one. After the lights come on and the rest of us have either hooked up, dipped out, or are helping our DJ / bouncer / bartender boyfriend pack up so we can leave, there's that one girl still there that nobody wanted and that one guy that's really drunk and even more desperate has finally convinced himself that nasty pussy is better than no pussy at all so why the eff not. That's Staci.

Don't give me the "J-Bird you're so damn judgy!" face because everything I just said is true. Staci is 5' 2", over 300 pounds and very insecure. Everything is a competition so why wouldn't she sleep with anyone that asked. This girl bragged about trolling for trailer park snatch. WHAT IS THAT!?! Who brags about these things? She told us the story of how she pushed a wall down whilst making coitus in Ye Olde Haunt. Huh? Ewah!

But Averi still loves her. Even though Staci didn't pick her up to bring her to the bar like she said she would. It didn't matter that none of Staci's other "friends" didn't show. Averi didn't blink when Staci declared that "You can't leave! M already backed out on me!". She didn't flinch when Staci accused her of stealing her precious cigarettes or said that she owed her money for tipping over a $5 beer.

In short, Averi is a saint.

So when she said that she wanted to leave to go to The Pool Hall, I was game. What Averi wants Averi gets. And I did the right thing by not saying one word to Staci when she stomped up to me with, "Where's Av?". (I point like E.T.). "Well, what is she doing?". (I make universal sign for 'check, please') "Why?" (I make driving motion) "I told her she couldn't leave!" (I smirk and shrug because Ha, Bitch!) Anyhow, she stomps away from me and I see head shaking, foot stomping, finger pointing and what seems to be yelling and I want to thrash her. But Av? She just walks past her like it's not happening.

God Bless her heart.

Check, Please!

Ed note: I had such a good weekend it was ridiculous. I'll be telling you about it in broken parts and I'll try to remember to link back and forth between posts to make it even more confusing.

This is obviously a Disney pic but I found it here.

Some people don't know why they're single. And to those people I say, "That's a shame". Because people like me, who know why they're single, dont' have time for people like you. I'm single because I've stopped trying.

Fat jeans, sneakers, and ponytail holders have replaced my skirts, pedicures, and makeup. It's totally my fault. I'm sure that if I updated my wardrobe and changed my attitude I'd be surrounded in penis. That's just the way it is. It happens every summer.

But this dude, Peter Pan, he doesn't have a clue. Or a chance in hell with me for that matter. And it's all Averi's fault.

I went out with the girls on Friday and after all those shenanigans, Averi and I went to our favorite billiards place. I'm a military baby (and a teeny bit paranoid) so I always scan, count & plan.

Scan - the room and identify exits, patrons and threats.
Count - the number of males versus females, potential hazards and routes for escape.
Plan - who you will get to know, who you will avoid, where you will set up camp and how to get out if things go wrong

It sounds complicated but with enough practice, it becomes a very simple and standard part of your life.

So if you ever see me on the street and I haven't acknowledged you, know that is most likely by choice - which isn't something that Peter Pan had figured out.

It was 1:15AM and Averi was still thristy. I had planned to be asleep by then and told her that departure was 30 minutes away.

Averi: I want another drink
Me: *sigh* I'll get it.

I went and had a small convo with the bartender where I had to convince him that making two Sprites and a water were not beneath him and that I planned to compensate him for his time. He laughed softly but told me that it was OK because he saw me earlier waiting at the bar when all I really needed was a band-aid because Av had scraped her knuckle on some filthy surface. And since I never yelled his name or stomped off in a huff, he figured this would make up for my insane amount of patience. We had a playful struggle over whether or not he'd accept my five dollars and when I finally got back to Av all she had to say was, "I'm gonna go smoke". All I could think was, "Again? She is so drunk".

I could see the shift in my left periphery. I could smell the sweetness of his cologne. I thought I was home free until he sat down on my right-hand side.

Oh, shit.

Peter Pan: Hi. I'm Peter.
Me: Hi, Peter.
PP: I prefer to be called Pierro.
Me (totally confused): Umm... then why didn't you just introduce yourself as Pierro?
PP: I'm an only child and I went to an all boys school so I dont' know how to talk to women. It's hard for me to do this right now. But your friend said you were a good woman.

Ah, Jesus Christ, Averi! You and I are going to have a serious fucking conversation when you sober up!

I don't even remember the rest of what he said except that he's from Ghana. I have kinda sworn off Africans for the rest of my life. Rest assured that he knows nothing about me because he doesn't listen. But he did get my real phone number because Av called me out. (Av: Girl, I thought you changed your number!)

And so the text messages began.

I excused myself to get Av so I could remind her how real friends cover for each other and don't throw each other to the wolves. While we're talking I receive PP Call 1 at 1:31AM where he goes to voicemail and has the audacity to leave a two and a half minute message. (This is a problem). That's swiftly followed by PP Text 1 at 1:36AM of: "Did I see ur friend n is she ok". (This is not cute to me).

I ignore his contact attempts because I'm walking back through the bar with Averi to leave. He follows us out. I kill Av with my eye darts. We get in the car and I get PP Text 2 at 1:52: "I like ur smile keep it up".

Me Text 1 - 2:01: Awww... thanks. ---> Beacause really. WTF does that even mean?

PP Text 3 - 2:39: R u girls home safely <--- I'm not even kidding when I say I HATE TEXT SPEECH. And the lack of punctuation makes my eye twitch.

Me Text 2 - 8:07: Yes, love. We are. I got her home before 2A and I was asleep before you sent this message. I hope you have a great day today. <--- See. I don't yet know what a pain in the ass this dude is gonna be.

PP Text 4 - 8:39: Gudmornin dear

PP Text 5 - 10:46: Hi Jbird how r u doin hope to hear from u today

Me Text 3 - 10:49: I'm good. Just laying low today. Lots of chores & errands to do. Then I'll do some reading. How are you? <--- I was being SO serious. I had lots to do on Saturday.

PP Text 6 - 10:55: Relaxin do my homewk n go for church meeting at 3pm

Me Text 4 - 11:00: Good luck w/ your homework. I always hated it. Church on Saturday? Hmm... <--- I'm still trying to be nice. I don't want to be a bitch within 12 hours of meeting him.

PP Text 7 - 11:03: Youth meetin on Saturday n music rehassal cos I play de whole set of drums

Me Text 5 - 11:04: Oh wow! That's great! Have fun today. <--- I think it's over. But it's not. It's not even close to over.

PP Text 8 - 11:05: Wen do I get to c u again

Me Text 6 - 11:06: How's Wednesday?

PP Text 9 - 11:07: Wat time dear <--- I'll be damned!

Me Text 7 - 11:09: Let's say 730. <--- I'm a wee bit ticked at this point.

PP Text 10 - 11:13: ok dear but where do we meet

I get angry. I know I said I was busy and it has occurred to me that I've spent half an hour playing this stupid game with him. All so that he can play the ass and have me set up the date. Aw hell naw!

Me Text 8 - 11:14: I'll let you decide. <--- sarcasm everywhere!

PP Text 11 - 11:17: Ok I will let u no as days go by <--- I have decided he is a waste of my time.

Me Text 9 - 11:19: I can hardly wait. <--- Not only have I forgotten that sarcasm doesn't translate through text but I am absolutely sure that this conversation is over now. Right?

PP Text 12 - 11:22: I no cos am yearnin to c u again

WHOOOOOOOAAAAA!!! Yearning? This is most definitely NOT the verb for this situation.

PP Text 13 - 12:13p: R u doin ok

Me Text 10 - 12:14: Yeah. Just getting stuff done. Going to the salon @ 3p. Lots to do before then. <--- I'm beginning to lose my patience.

PP Text 14 - 12:16: Take it easy n ejoy (<--- not a typo on my part) ur weeken talk to u later

Me Text 11 - 12:18: I never take it easy. Always reaching for a goal; hustling. You have a good weekend too. We'll talk next week. <--- "Next week". Now this conversation must be over for I have ended it.

PP Text 15 - 12:17: Ok

PP Text 16 - 3:30p: How is ur day so far <--- I'm in the salon getting my manicure and telling mom and Nat about his craziness. I will not respond.

PP Text 17 - 6:00 - Hi <--- This ninja is gonna make me lose it all over him!!

PP Text 18 - 6:03: R u ok <--- Averi is dead to me.

I promptly post on her facebook that she and I will have a sit down on Tuesday so I can berate her in person before I have to meet Peter Pan and lay him out. To which she responds, "So we're not going to Africa? Because I had already started packing". Bitch. How dare she make me laugh at a time like this?

Nat Text 1 - 6:12: I wanted to see your face when you heard your phone go off again. LMAO. <--- If we weren't standing on opposite sides of mom in a sub shop I would have hit her.

PP Call 2 - 7:14 <--- Mom gets furious
PP Call 3 - 7:15 <--- He gets forwarded to voicemail permanently

February 6, 2011

PP Text 19 - 9:09AM: Gud mornin

PP Text 20 - 9:34: R u alrite Jbird

Me Text 12 - 9:37: I'm fine. <--- And I'm over him and all this foolishness.

PP Text 21 - 9:40: Ok I was worried n thinkin abt u

Me Text 13 - 9:42: I've been really busy and I'll be at a few super bowl parties today. We'll talk later.

PP Text 22 - 9:44: Have fun n be careful n no dat someone cares about u

Put a fork in me. I'm done.

At 9:44 Sunday morning, he had known of my existence for 32 hours. I've got boogers older than that. What I said after that was that he needed to back off because he was smothering me in affection and it was making me angry.

He may have tried to call but I can't swear to it because he's been forwarded to voicemail. It doesn't help that Steve and I had a fight disagreement and I'm missing the little bit we had. Or that Palmer is being super sweet to me and has made it very clear that the ball is in my court. Or that I'm ovulating and reading a Harlequin Blaze novel. None of that is Peter Pan's fault.

But he's still on my damned nerves. And that is his fault.

UPDATE: Averi upon hearing about the yearning: "J-Bird... I too am yearning for you. Also, I yarn for you. On some days, I yawn for you. Hahaha! But lately I'm feeling beaten out by this guy for affection. I will totally buy you a round or three... especially for his verb fail". I love her so much.

UPDATE TO THE UPDATE: Part Deux has been written

I Spy With My Little Eye The Best Dinner of My Life

Now that you know The Sag and The Volunteer, I can regale you with my weekend recap! This is only part one. *the crowd goes wi-yald!* If you haven't read those stories, then please go! now! read! because you'll realize just how awesome they are and that I have a knack for finding amazing men.

Since The Sag and I missed our annual birthday dinner (because I was broke and melancholy), he invited me out last Friday. I was already super excited! He picked me up like always (he's such a gentleman) and when I answered the door he said, "You're not wearing a dress?". I was floored. Normally, when we go to dinner out it's just your run-of-the-mill sit-down restaurant but that night he was dressed in dark denim, a chocolate brown and celadon green striped button-down shirt, and a sport coat. I had on my fat jeans, black snow boots, a black t-shirt and a pull-over fleece. What the hell, right?!?

So, I run to my room (a good ten feet) and start changing with a fury. I couldn't wear my black and white dress because I would have frozen my butt off. My favorite polka-dot dress was mysteriously MIA and I didn't want to wear the orange dress again. So I dug out my black wrap dress that he'd never seen me in, threw it on, thanked the gods that I'd shaved my legs that morning, put on some tights and my knee-high boots* and emerged a Goddess.

We walk to the car and he opens my door he is such a gentleman!, once he's in, he tells me how nice I look and that I'm in for a real surprise. Twenty minutes later he's navigating Downtown and I'm super antsy and beeeeegging to be let in on the surprise because I just can't stand it in any longer when I recognize the street we're on and squee with delight at the sight of my favorite Spanish restaurant. That's when I say, "Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Are we going to my Favorite Spanish Restaurant! Are we?!? Ohmigod!" He laughs and nods yes and I whip out my phone to text CBS111, "The Sag has brought me to my favorite Spanish restaurant! I'd have his baby right now if he asked.". That is a direct quote. No lie. Ask her.

We go in, sit down, and I'm suuuuuper excited. He already knows what I want but still lets me order for myself. We talk about stuff that means nothing at all and he tells me that his relationship with The Chick Who Shall Not Be Named is completely over now. Dinner comes and he says, "I wanted to talk to you about something". Me: mouth open. Fork: mid air. Food: untouched. I'm seriously beginning to wonder what this dinner is gonna cost me.



Mmmm... paella.


Because I know that I said thirty minutes ago that I would have his baby but seriously I'm not trying to have his baby. And the last time he looked at me that intently was when he was prepared to put all his dreams on the shelf for The Chick. I know that he wants to get married. I know that he wants children. We've talked openly about our desires for family. He spent Valentine's Day 2009 on my couch beside me watching SNL! I can tell you his future first born son's name!

But we never said we'd do this together and I just feel like if I put this meal in my mouth I'll be obligating my uterus for future use. All I can muster the courage to say is, "OK". He cracks his neck, his fingers, and his wrists. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair. He puts both forearms on the table and says, "I've started selling Advocare". Finally I can breathe! "And I'm coming to you because I know you've been doing this kind of stuff for years". I squint. He continues, "It's not a pyramid scheme, I swear! And I'm not asking you to join. I just want you to try it and if you like it tell your friends". I tilt my head to the right. He goes on, "It's just that you know so many more people than I do. You know like 300... no 500 people, right? You could really help me out if you like, end up liking it".

I finally I say, "Is that why you brought me here? To my favorite Spanish restaurant?". He looks at me sheepishly, "Yes".

Me: "OK".
The Sag: "Really?"
Me: "Yeah".

And then I ate. It was sooooo good. And if all I've got to do is buy some vitamins and meal replacement shakes, I'm all game. So check out Advocare products. Especially if you have fitness goals this year. My first order will be here on Friday and I'll try to remember to let you know if I'm seeing any positive changes.

*The Sag is a sucker for a woman in knee-high boots. *gives wink to every woman out there that's inboxing me for his number*

The Only Thing Better Than You Is Me

My best guy friend in the whole world is a Sag.

That's us on the left. I can't even talk about the kid with the shirt stains!

It's both a blessing and a curse. I love him so deeply because all of my good qualities reflect right back at me. And I could slap the shit out of him at any moment because he always follows up the right thing to say with something completely ridiculous and outlandish.

Example: "J-Bird, I don't know why you don't have a boyfriend. I mean, you're so pretty, you can lose the weight!".

Do you see it? The place where he should have stopped. I see it. He's the Santino of my life. And I've stopped glazing over every time he goes too far because I realize that even though he said exactly what he meant, he didn't mean it the way I heard it. In the example above, when I asked him for clarification he said, "Just thank God you're not ugly! We can't fix that. Like if you were hit in the face? Nothing we could do".

Now, I laugh when he gets word vomit because it's hella funny. Plus, I'm one of three people that gets his jokes. I know when he's sad and make sure to say just enough to nudge him out of his funk. I mean, he's a Sag so I know he'll come out eventually but it always helps to know you've got support in your latest excursion.

He's also my travel buddy. We hit a rough patch when he went to Mykonos 5 months early and without me. I jumped so far up his ass he tasted my toe jam for a week! But then I realized that he'd just gotten the bug and he had the funds and most importantly, I probably would've done the same thing to him. It's not like Greece is going anywhere, right? So we had lunch and I paid and he knew I was sorry and I knew he was sorry and we went right back to the way things were.

That's the other thing. He totally gets my need for space. He's never hurt (for long) when I don't want to do something or go somewhere. He knows when to keep his mouth shut about my boys. And he's never yelled at me for chasing away his girls. Probably because he knows, deep down, that if she were meant to stay I wouldn't be able to scare her away so easily.

And I'm pretty sure that ALL OF THAT is why Nat thinks we'd be so perfect for each other. She's been pressing me for years to get with The Sag. And by "pressing", I mean that once a year, usually around our birthdays (because I'm 4 days older than him) she'll say, "So what are you and The Sag doing to celebrate?". I'll tell her our plans and she gets this shit-eating grin on her face that exudes the confidence that this will be the year that her big sis gets her mind right and marries the man that's just like her so she can be the cool Aunt already. But she's always wrong.

The love I have for The Sag is completely platonic. We met in a call center during the time in my life when I worked two jobs and went to school part time. He sat a whole two rows over, by himself, everyday, because he was the last from the mid-shift to leave. So for two hours after I'd get to work, he'd be in a row all alone staring out the window. And he's too fine for that. I held a mini-summit with my row and we decided to invite him over but I had to be the one to do it. It went like this:

Me: "Hey."
The Sag: "Hey."
Me: "D in my row wants to know if you date black women."
The Sag: "What?"
Me: "She thinks you're cute and if you promise not to make this awkward you can sit with us instead of by yourself for two hours every night."
The Sag: "But only because she thinks I'm cute?"
Me: "Well, it's not like we know you! You could have a horrible personality!"
The Sag: ...
Me: "Are you coming or not?"
The Sag: "Yeah. Just let me take this call."
Me: "Cool."
The Sag: "Hey?"
Me: "Yeah?"
The Sag: "I don't like D, I like L"
Me: "Whuh? Ew! You don't want her! She's hott and all but her boyfriend's a douche and she's gonna marry him anyway because he's rich. I already know you're better than that."
The Sag: "Damn."
Me: "You still coming over?"
The Sag: "Yeah." *kanye shrug* "Why not?"

See? It's a beautiful story. I will say that they year we turned 23, Nat had gotten all in my head and tequila was all in my blood stream so I thought maybe, juuuust maybe, The Sag and I could make this work. I was drunk, he was drunk, and my room was clean so I said "Let's do this!". And then he responded, "Do what?". And I was all drunk sexy and he took his shirt off and I was like "You have a fur coat! Bahahahahahhaa!". Which by the way, did you know that men with body hair are totally self-concious about it?

Anyway, he admitted that he was a virgin, I buckled under that kind of pressure, and we fell asleep laying the wrong way across my bed, over the covers, with him rubbing my back while I dry heaved. No one should start a romantic relationship on that kind of romance so we just let it be. We've never actually talked about that night and I think it's better that way. There's no underlying tensionn from it because we didn't make what would have been a major mistake.

We get to love each other in our own way and it's working for us. At least until he asked me to dinner, took me to my favorite restaurant, and said he wanted to talk...

The Story of The Volunteer AKA The Hottest Neighbor EVER!

image found here

I had a life long before I took to coming on here and telling you all my business. And that life included living like a nomad and moving at all hours of the morning. Which is how I met The Volunteer. He's 6'3", 210, blonde, blue-eyed, fun, outgoing, optimistic, gentlemanly, and all sex. This man oozes sex and he knows it but he doesn't abuse so it only makes you wanna give him your sex. Does that make sense? Yeah, it makes sense.

Nat and I were moving into an apartment together that was going to be much closer to where I was working at the time. It was 1 in the morning on Friday, May 30, 2008. All the big stuff would be moved in by the boys on Saturday and - as is my nature - I was too cheap to rent a U-Haul for more than one day and fill it with more than one tank of gas, so we were driving the mom van and my car getting as many boxes and clothes over there as we could.

It was our third or fourth trip of the day and we were banging around as little as possible when he came outside. The night was bright and his gorgeous smile glowed in the light of the moon. He ran his long fingers through his blonde hair and welcomed us to our new place. Then he promptly inquired as to why we were moving all of our own things and where the hell our (apparently) good-for-nothing boyfriends were.

Nat and I were not amused. Not only was he drunk but he was still drinking. And for all the boyfriend bashing he did, he didn't lift one box. Not one. It was only after we had both vehicles emptied that he stood there sheepishly and proffered the now lukewarm beers he'd brought for us when he first emerged from his cave. In all the years I'd lived away from home, he was the first neighbor to ever reach out to me with any sort of gesture; I was smitten.

We sat in the mom van's hatch for at least an hour telling stories from our childhood. It turns out that we shared a military upbringing and while I'd spent so many years trying to put it behind me he seemed to revel in it. I saw every new location as another temporary prison sentence where he had used it to develop his skills of adaptation. Then he told us about his foray into college at the University of Tennessee and how weird it was for him to call someplace "home" for five solid years. He worked his way through school by working for a shipping company and when he left he was the youngest Operations Manager they'd ever seen. Which is how he ended up here - our neighbor - bunking with a friend from college for the last four months.

By Sunday we were great friends and our doors were always open to one another. Mornings were spent scaring the crap out of each other as we exited our apartments simultaneously. Evenings were spent in camping chairs on our 4' x 3' piece of grass with beers and good conversation. Weekends were always spent apart until it was time for the "Sunday Night Recap".

 I always thought The Volunteer was a good guy but I never realized how good until the first major thunderstorm of the season. There I stood, in my doorway, under the shelter of our awning, staring up into the night wearing nothing but a tank tops and panties. Then I hear a creak and low and behold if he doesn't usher out some petite blonde (who obviously didn't know her days were numbered) out to watch the same storm. For a moment, I was so stunned to see a master at work that I had forgotten all about the storm or my dreadful state of undress.

That was the first of our more intimate encounters. All summer I took to cutting his hair. I helped him pack for a trip to L.A. We dry-humped on the roof of his truck because he didn't have a parking pass and didn't want to get towed. He played my wingman when I was being backed into the proverbial corner by that night's guest of honor. Who waits until he gets back to your place to ask if you've ever slept with a white guy? He yelled my name and threw rocks at my window anytime he wanted to watch a movie. And we really did watch the movie. No quotation marks here. He woke me up after he'd partied too hard and asked if I had a soda can he could use as a bong. And he helped me break up with The Australian when I couldn't muster the courage on my own.

We had one big fight because I was a lot too drunk and he just shook his head, murmured an apology and let me win until I woke up feeling like leprechauns were using construction tools in my brain. He showed more grace that next morning than I've given my whole life and reminded me that forgiveness was never required between friends. And then, on September 17th, he told us he was moving out. In a week.

I remember being heartbroken. I knew I'd never find another neighbor like The Volunteer. Hell, I might not ever find another person like The Volunteer. People that open and men that strong don't walk by everyday. He's a special breed and that's why I was high as a kite when after two years and almost four months, I spotted him across the bar...

We Are Not Friends

Question.

If someone decided two years ago that they weren't going to speak to you ever again because they thought that you were unjust in your quest to be an accomplice to a major win, do you have to befriend them again?

This question is, of course, anything but hypothetical. It has everything to do with Charlotte - the woman at work that I've started to post about at least 5 times over the past 12 months but never actually got around to telling you about. Procrastination rocks!

Whatevs. Point is: I think I might have led her on.

I'm a Sag girl. We are dirty, flirty birds and optimistic to a fault. I am a firm believer that it sucks now but will soon get better. I may hate you in this moment but give it another five and I won't be angry. I won't forget but I won't be angry. The not forgetting makes me a Champion Grudge Holder. You can ask CBS111. She forgives and moves forward. I forgive and will write it in your eulogy. But that doesn't mean that I have to be hateful.

And that's where I go wrong. Charlotte thinks that because I let her use my dirty fork that it's all good. But the reality is this: She mumbled, "Dammit! I left my fork home" *slams cabinet door*. I looked up and realized I was the only person in the room. I said - and I quote - "You can use mine if you want to wash it".

What choice did I have? To let her starve? I'm not gonna watch anyone go hungry if I can prevent it.

But then, the day after the fork thing, she asked me about Nat's wedding. Then she made some comment to me that was solely work related. And then she said something about the ginormous apple I was eating. And honestly, I don't even know what the hell she said because I was only half listening because WE ARE NOT FRIENDS!

But then this morning, she hustled over here to ask me more work questions and said she knew that I would know the answer and she couldn't ask the boss because he's in meetings and I had to have her repeat the question three times because I couldn't focus on her words because all I could think was "What the hell is going on here?". The worst part is that her visit was obviously contrived. She wanted to know if the spreadsheet would override the system. And it will. Like it has for the 5 years we've been running this program. That's why the spreadsheet was created - to make our lives easier. Why would they change that with just 3 weeks to go?

I'm not telling you this to seek out your advice. I know exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going to ignore the shit out of her. What other choice do I have? It wouldn't hurt so much if the fall from grace hadn't been so volatile. I mean, Charlotte and I used to hang out hard core.

I've spent many nights driving down to her place, eating at the VFW, and crashing in her guest room. We even spent a couple New Years' together. So I felt betrayed when she three-pieced me with the liar / thief / cheater accusation. Just sayin'.

So, anyways, that's what's going on there. And Palmer wants to take me out to dinner when he comes to town next. I accepted. He says that he knows that we're just going as friends and he doesn't care where we go because he's putting it on the company card. What I'm going to write next is evil and underhanded and I'm telling you now so you have time to cope with it. We're going to the nicest steak restaurant in town. I intend to wear my nicest dress, arrive with manicure, pedicure, and perfect coif, strike up gay and light-hearted conversation, eat and drink a very expensive, very free meal and then head straight to Steve's house.

Basically. Fuck 'em. Both.

Who Said Holidays Are Relaxing?

This past holiday weekend was eventful even though I didn't do much.

Thursday, I sat at work and prayed, hoped, and wished on freshly fallen snow that they would let us go home early. They did not. Which is ok. I went and had family Christmas where I gots my Nook! The gift exchange was awesome. We all got our annual Christmas pajamas and even Mr. T had a good time.

Later that night I met Averi and her hubs at our favorite watering hole.

Sidebar: This is the first time I've met hubs. He's a prior Marine and good Lord is he a hugger! Major hugs! Apparently, Av has nothing but good things to say about me and so he felt like he knew me. Except for the part about personal space. He must've missed that.

But we passed up a Christmas Eve's Eve concert to just drink beers and shoot some pool. Only Av started drinking beers at 8p and I was with the fam until a little after 10p. Which is totally her fault because originally we weren't supposed to meet until 11p. You can see how I was actually early and not late as she tried to bill it. But we shoot a few games. I'm preoccupied, Av is talking to everyone that she makes eye contact with and the Marine is looking tired.

We grab a bite to eat at a local diner that I lived across the street from for FIVE YEARS but never knew existed. Go figure! The food is good and the pancakes are humongous (they call them "manhole covers"). There was a serious conversation about having more than one child. The Marine thinks that you can't love more than one child; its not possible. Av was drunk so we won't talk about what she thinks. But I tried to help him see that you can love each child the way they need. It is haaaaaaaaaaaaaaard being sober when everyone else is lit! Reasonable conversations take a dark, twisty turn for no reason. I was told way too much info about his family that shall not be disclosed because... DAMN!

Friday I sat at home and cleaned half of what I own. Taking on the whole apartment just seemed like too much. I also waited until 9:15p to decide that I was hungry and that nothing in my house would do. Which resulted in Donatos because they were the only ones open. I paid $2.95 for a side salad. I can't even use an exclamation point because its just so damn sad.

Christmas Day I put on my holiday jammies and met with some of my favorite ladies for a gift exchange. Just super cute small stuff. We also allow a Yankee swap of things you got from friends/family earlier in the day that you just can't stand to keep. I took some things that I'd won at various other parties since the summer. I mean, how many lotions and body washes does a girl need?


Sunday was my Fundaaaaaaayy! I watched my beloved Bengals play without distraction (ahem! T. O. & Ocho) and win against the Chargers! WHO DEY! I went with my birthday buddy who is an avid Chargers fan and a sore loser. It was all extra special because I'd never seen the Bengals win before. *queue tear drops*
Pic found here

Monday, I stayed home and did nothing... at all... except  read. And walk the dog. It was a spectacular plan really. I was supposed to meet Nat at my mom's around 10p but I dutifully fell asleep on my futon around 9:30. TV was just that boring.

So there you have it. My holiday weekend was way more exciting than I had planned on it being and I enjoyed every minute of it. There was no pressure to please anyone or do anything "seasonal" and I think that's what made it so fine.

P. S. - Who dey? Who dey? Who think they gonna beat them BENGALS!!!!!

Are You There, Blog?

Holla!

In the last week I've been doing lots of crazy things and hanging with all the crazy people I know. And when you're hanging with real-live peeps your blog peeps suffer. Never fear! I'm sure I'll be back in full force soon... Maybe.. don't hold your breath.

But while I was gone, I want to assure you that nothing super exciting has happened at all. Not at all. I did not have dinner with a friend where he revealed he was in a relationship with a married woman. I, in no way, had an epic battle, heroic crusade, or marathon melee with my mother. I don't even know why I would mention it. No one asked for my advice on how to step on out into the dating world after having a serious convo with his baby mama in which they decided that they would "co-parent" their son despite the gaping distance. I did not blurt out that Ke$ha "has no fucking talent" and "sucked a lot of dicks to get here" in the middle of a bar.

Ashton, however, did show his ass in true form and opened every gift that Nat bought. Even the ones that weren't for him. Which, incidentally, is how she discovered that he can neither read nor recognize his name. At the age of 4. And a half. Going on 5. Where he'll start school. Next fall. I have to stop writing now because my ear is touching my shoulder and my voice can't go higher.

A delivery boy almost died on my icy steps because some bung hole stole my $2.99 bag of sidewalk salt. So I put half a jar of $4.39 sea salt down until I could get to the store. It obvs is not the same. Jenny, The Bloggess, blew me away with her generosity and I guess I'm not the only one. It's INTERNATIONAL NEWS, People! I just wish I had been able to be a part of it.

Striped Shirt Steve and I are... well... that's not your business now is it?

I gets my Nook tonight. I have a $25 B&N gift card and then a fistful of free money courtesy of some of my colleagues. Plus, I read the damned tutorial and discovered that Google has eBooks as well so all is not lost and I may not return the thing from whence it came after all. Aaaaand, my library is going to start free eBook "check out" on the 27th. So all in all, this holiday doesn't suck donkey balls but perhaps only monkey balls. Those are cleaner as they aren't so close to the ground.

I'm off to Christmas #2 of 3. I'm really excited for Saturday though! That's when me and the girlies are going to do our Christmas thing. Someone once said that "friends are the family you pick for yourself". They were right but should have added "...and enemies are dung nuggets that God accidentally gave life".

Pieces

Last night I poured my heart out to a friend. I had to because the words were close to bursting out of me like a broken dam. I'm not good with spoken words. At least, not when it comes to feelings. I have hurt people's feelings with a joke.

The topic of our conversation was trust.

How do you know who to trust? She's worried that I don't trust her but I do. It's other people I don't trust. Other people who lie to your face and cheat behind your back. People who do things out of malice simply to light a spark that they hope will engulf your world in a burning blaze of drama. People who have so little to be thankful for in their own lives that they can't leave other people's lives alone.

My friend was right. I should have told her as soon as I found out. I shouldn't have hid it from her. She always knew there was something under the surface; I don't hide things well. And I would have if I had known how. But I didn't. I wasn't going to give an ultimatum. And I wasn't going to defame another person based on my opinion. So I decided to do nothing. Which ultimately was the wrong decision.

I spent eight years of my life in a whirlwind of persistent drama. New cities, new schools, new friends... every year. After all of the girl fights and fist fights, I am purely exasperated with it all. I don't have room in my life to take on someone else's drama. And at this stage in my life I would hope that I am past that.

I'm not sorry that I chose to say nothing. I'm not sorry that things have been said and done that cannot be unsaid or undone. I am sorry that someone used my friend's intimate knowledge of me and my life to drive a wedge between us. I am sorry that people come into your life that can't be trusted. But mostly I am sorry that the only way this person feels whole is to tear others to pieces.

Oh Birthday, My Birthday

Yesterday was my Birthday!*pauses to let the raucous applause die down*

It all started on Friday. With money in my wallet there were two things I needed to do: put gas in to Big Red and buy groceries. I prayed the whole way home because my gas light came on when I pulled into work that morning and it hadn't occurred to me to fill the tank before heading home. Coasting up to the pumps, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief and then wept silently as I watched the digital numbers climb without shame.

I made it to the grocery store and what do I see but a woman standing to the side pleading with this ugly man. Tears streaming down her face, she tells him that she tries not to think about him with "her" and all these other women but now she can't. Now, she's the one suffering. She's the one that gets physically ill. She's the one that isn't getting any sleep. He gives her an icy glare and tells her that she knew how it would be and things won't change.

Their preteen daughter knows enough to not look and the little boy in the cart is now begging his mama for a kiss. She wipes her eyes, sees me staring, and casts her eyes back to the ground. I've seen it before. I lived it when I was the preteen and Nat was the kid in the cart. You could say I stalked them around the store but really I was just keeping one eye on them and my thumb on speed dial.

I raced home with a to-do list as long as Denny's schlong . This is where I should put the story of how I got things done. What really happened is that I sat on my ass, made myself a cup of peppermint cocoa and read a book. It was a really good book too.

Saturday I woke up and gave myself the gift of bangs. Then I did some baby shopping.

To start off right, I got myself a peppermint latter and slice of gingerbread. The fine barista let me know that my coffee would be at the other end. I opened my mouth to speak and she cut me off with, "It'll be at the other end". Closing my wallet, I set my copy of the baby registry down and she asked me if I needed help reading and understanding it.

I'm sure she meant well. Right? That's the approach I took because it's my birthday weekend goddammit and I'm not gonna let some coffee whore mess it all up. At the other end of the counter, my latte appears but not my gingerbread. Barista bitch gets a scowl from coffee-blending girl; I win.

I encountered the slowest cashier in the Midwest who said that she couldn't adjust the registry because she was "new and no one had ever shown her how". When I advised her to read the portion of the registry titled "Cashier Instructions" for help, she informed me that she wasn't sure she had the authority to do this kind of thing.

Me: "Thing like what? Read?"

The baby shower itself was a success. I won prize and acted like I had won a prize. Which to those of you who either a) don't win many prizes or b) don't appreciate a hard-earned win would look like I'd just struck oil by turning on a faucet. I was super excited. In ways that only a photograph could express. Thankfully, there are none.

I breezed out of there and got all dressed for the zoo. Our zoo does a fantastic lights display and the trip was free (for me) and so I gleefully spent 2 hours trekking through the cold, blowing snot sickles, and not seeing any animals. Then Mom and I watched Eclipse. The best part of the movie was when Bella cut her arm in attempt to keep Edward from being destroyed and Mom said, "Jesus! You tell this chick one Indian tale and she thinks she's Sacajawea". I died.

Sunday, I got up and took myself to a posh brunch and got an invitation from mom for dinner. I accepted and was starting to get ready when I got a text from my friend Paige. She was 20 weeks pregnant and had just
 found out last Thursday (12/2) that the little bean inside of her was going to grown into a baby boy. We were all ecstatic for her and loved the way that she announced it: by sending us all a link to her ultrasound that she had posted on Vimeo.

But yesterday, I got this message:
"I don't know how to say this. I'm in the hospital and lost my baby due to a ruptured amniotic sac. I wish I were dead."

I stopped and I cried.
A couple of hours passed and I finally went off to my own birthday celebration. I went to the pub where we met striped-shirt Steve. Apparently, there was some band playing but I promise you they weren't good. Nat and Mr. T surprised me with a chocolate cake that was topped with enough candles to violate all sorts of fire codes and I got to eat my name right out of the center.

Thankfully, I had the foresight to only drink the free shots. Otherwise, right now, I'd be fucked.

P.S. - I know that I owe you four more days of the meme and I promise to get back to it at some point. Maybe. I'm not exactly known for finishing things.

Update: I ended the night with a pizza dog (a hotdog - cut down the center - stuffed with pepperoni and then WRAPPED IN A SLICE OF PIZZA AS A BUN. The epicocity of it all is unreal. And while you think that should have been an easy choice to make, I had to turn down the "Cheezus Crust" aka a grilled cheese sandwich using pizza for bread. Then there's the Baby Cheezus, it's half the size but just as "blasphemalicious". Ha! Good times.