This is blog of a woman who didn't know what she wanted and so chased after dreams and men in search of the answers...drunken hilarity ensued. Then one day she met a man who was everything she wanted, but he wasn't so sure. Then she did the unthinkable; after they broke up she gave him this blog address and she let him into her mind as well as her heart. Unbelievably, even after sorting through the sordid archives of failed relationships, one night stands and her lusty (and embarassing) pursuit to secure the heart of a certain young line cook, John somehow managed to fall in love with her too. Melina and John were married a little over six months after they started dating, running away to Las Vegas to seal the deal. You can imagine what the over/under bet was to see if they'd even make it a year!! Over a year later and they are still going strong...this blog has become their story. Need to tell me something? Email me at Melinalovesjohnny at gmail dot com
Check out my other blogs:

igotyourtexts.blogspot.com

melina310.wordpress.org
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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.



Thursday, March 31, 2005
My New Line
Ml and I spoke last night on the phone and she asked the age old question, "Why are we still single? We're both hot, we're both intelligent and we're both so fucking cool and easy going...WTF?" So of course, I gave Ml the age old answer that single women (who are hot) give each other, "Men are just intimidated by us darling..." (which may or may not be true, but it sounds nice). But that wasn't good enough for Ml. She says,"Still? I mean we approach guys and stuff...and we're hilarious!" and then I gave her the other age old answer, "We're not bitches." She was silent, so I continued, " I suggest the next time a guy comes up to talk with us we just say, 'How's the weather twat,' or 'Shove off you wanker?' and that man will be our slave." (I don't know, British insults seem much more fun) I'm sure it works, I've seen the biggest bitches in the world with the sweetest men alive."
"You make me laugh, hard."
"That's what I'm here for," and then for practice I added, "You fucking twat."
Ml laughed harder.
Stepping out!
Finally...someone wants to go out. Thank goodness for Ml. Granted, we're going out for dinner...but knowing us, there will be more than beverage flowing. I'm so happy, finally I might have something worth while to blog about--because other than that...I'm getting sick, and that's nothing fun to write about.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Dating is Weird and Cultish
So tonight I was Im'ing back and forth with my friend Ml about our pining ways. She has pined for about as long as I have over her boy. Although to be fair, she's allowed to pine because she and her boy consumated something. Drk and my romance lies solely in the etheral mists of my imagination. The question comes down to this. Why do we pine? Tonight I think I answered it.

I pine because it's easier to. Yeah you feel crummy but it a crumminess that you can control. No one is actually hurting you, except you. In case you haven't noticed-- I hate dating. First of all, the past like three "first dates" that I've had...I had already seen my date naked, and in performance mode. Those kind of first dates are awkward. You already have an established sense of intimacy to an extent but you don't really know the person. This is the reason why you never go out on a date with someone you were expecting to be a one night stand.

The guy picks me up. He leans in hesitantly to kiss...I lean away...I think to myself, "Why all prim and proper now, eh missy?" and I have no answer to that. I usually lean over and kiss the guy on the cheek and walk ahead of him towards his car. Then I go to dinner. I start talking and all of my small talk was already used...so then I turn to alcohol. This inevitably leads to round two in the sack and then comes the question..."Do I even want to date this person?" Ok...that's just awkward but completely avoidable. No one to blame but me and Jamisson.

Regular dating is equally destestable in my mind. I hate the whole getting to know you process--I tell a story that I think is charming or funny or slightly off the wall but loveable and the guy usually looks at me like "I haven't met an original female before, what should I do now?" When I see that face, I usually have to abort the date...which is probably why I've always grown attached to friends, and then date/hang out with them for a while rather than dating outside my social circle.

Free love people...I think that was the way to go. You go out, you're pumping gas...so is someone else. Bam! You're "dating" for the night.

So yeah, pining although unhealthy and worrisome to many outsiders, still sounds like the best bet. However, the show must go on. As all my friends are dating, married and whatnot...I guess I will just have to put my hatred aside--stop my bitching about the time investment it takes and get out there. I'm serious, when I date someone I get very defensive over MY time. I guess I'm the opposite of a clingy girlfriend. It's probably not a really cool thing for the guy that I date to have to say to his bros, "Oh M. doesn't want to hang out with me tonight. She feels like she sees too much of me...but I'm allowed over after the bars close." (I exaggerate. I'm not a heartless bitch really) Before I do date...I'm getting laid. (it's been three weeks...that's long in Melina time, maybe not for other people. I'm thinking I should suck it up and call Matty. Maybe tomorrow) And I'm not going on a date with him afterwards either! Promise. (actually, if I call matty I won't need to worry about going on a date with him).
I Need You! (And Really...Who Doesn't?)
So I'm going to be on Scoot's (this links to his webpage) podcast again! Hooray! I love my fame/notoriety regardless of how small it may be. So here's the deal. Tonight or tomorrow, we're going to be discussing some of the stories that I've shared with you in the past, or stories that I've yet to share (I'm drawing a blank right now though). So, what story should I talk about? Or what should I talk about? Can you think of something that I said I would discuss but I neglected? Thanks in advance for helping me out. Love y'all!
The Land of Responsibility and Bathing Suits
I feel boring. My life feels boring, and I feel testy. In the effort to save money--I know, I'm as shocked as you that men haven't asked to bankroll me left and right, I have forgone my daily trips to the bar. Now I can live without alcohol, that's no big deal, but that bar is my social interaction. Here's my day.

5:30 am- Rise and shine, Sunshine! Dogs and I go for a walk, frollick in the Autumn mist (seasons permitting) and generally hang out until 6 am (whoooo a whole half hour with the dogs...can I spare it?)

6:00am-get all worked up wet and lathered...in the shower. 6:30am-ride comes, go to work.
7:30am-work officially starts ( I have to get work done at work...because dogs will not permit anything done on "their time")
3:30pm-leave work
3:30-4:30- eat something, play with dingos
4:30/5ish pm- go to the gym with darling friend Chelle. We shake our tail feathers and what not until around 6:30 pm (depending on what time we get there).
6:30 hang with dogs...get licked because I am a salty good treat now.
7 pm- watch Jeopardy! or take a shower.
8 pm-11pm- attempt to do work if the dogs aren't in a playing mood. If dogs are in a playing mood, play and watch tv in intervals of doggie rivalry.
11 pm- go to bed. "watch" reruns of "Crossing Jordan with my sleep timer on and my face buried in my pillow. Jill Hennessey's voice soothes me. I want her and her family to move in with me so I can sleep easily.
And then I do it all over again at 5:30...

Notice that I have very little human interaction? Now work, is total human interaction...all day, non-stop...but I enjoy that. I NEED TO GO TO THE BARS FOR SOCIALIZATION PURPOSES. Then why don't Ijust go already and stop yelling? Well there's the money aspect. And then there's my bikini, which is already fitting better without hitting the bar so much (but what funn is an emaciated chick who has a stick up her ass because she's starved and over-worked out?? No fun at all. Oh and Cr has moved about forty-five minutes away from me, so it's not like we can grab a quick drink...it needs to be planned (not my forte- I'm spontaneous) Chelle is sick, and also saving money, and also attempting to be beach ready...since she leaves for Fla in a few weeks. Then there's the whole, find men to drool over other than Drk thing--it makes me want to go to the bar MORE not less. Gosh...my life is complicated in it's stupid simplicity. Have I mentioned that I'm pretty cranky today? I think it has something to do with the stupid Lean Cuisine I had for lunch. I know people in third world countries who ate more than me today. Ok I lied. I don't know anyone from a third world country. But whoever they are...they still probably ate more than me.
Haloscan Snobs Rejoice
Well I did it. I found out people won't comment on my blog...because my comments just weren't good enough for them. Fine, whatever. I gave up all my comments just to fit in. Great. So now comment, because my site feels a little lonely and sad without comments.
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Nosy Neighbors
Ok so you would never take me as an antisocial person would you? And I'm not. That being said, I don't socialize with my close-in-proximity neighbors. For several reasons actually. One, most of them are pretty creepy. Two, they all ask me personal questions that I would never ask someone unless they were close friends. These people literally have no filter.

The one guy leers at me and Cr asking us if we want to smoke pot with him whenever his morbidly obese wife leaves town (and I'm not being mean, she's really heavy), um yeah hi neighbor, we don't ever talk and when we do--you want to smoke pot with me. Uh no. My neighbors next door to me are nice, quiet, extremely god fearing people. Their side of our double looks like Martha Stewart lives there. My side? Not so much. They don't drink, they don't curse...they apparently don't like dust or dirt...they are nice, but they feel a little cardboardy to me. Then there is this freaky guy across the way. He is really short with a very high nasal voice. In every sentence he uses my name as if attempting to commit it to memory...although by now, he knows me because he has used my name in every sentence for the past year or so.

Well today he catches up to me as I was attempting to grab my mail and walk the dogs at the same time. He just comes alongside me and asks me what time I go to work. I tell him 6:30. And then I ask, "Why do you ask?" and he replies, "Oh because your ride gets here at 8:30." Ok dumbass...what part of 6:30 don't you understand? So I politely say, "No, like I said, I go to work at 6:30." Oh well, there was a [color] [approx. year] [make] [model] at your house today at 8:30 and the girl had a dark ponytail, I just thought that was you." Now how do you respond to that one? 'Thanks for watching out for my house so that it doesn't get burglarized?' Or what I really wanted to say, 'Hey short ass freak! Stop staring at my house! Stop scrutinizing what cars appear in my driveway.' Which makes me wonder what he sees when Matty's, Todd's, Drk's (ok, that was only once, huh?) or other boy's vehicles in my driveway?

Then I think the guy was trying to figure out whether or not Cr were hanging out as friends or as lovahs...he started probing that topic and the topic of who I was dating until I revealed that Cr was my friend/moving roommate. I'll admit though, I lied about my boyfriend status. I'm not sure if Shorty McShorterson (aka my nosy neighbor) is single, married or looking but...I didn't want to take any chances, so I told him I had a boyfriend. And I told him he has a lot of cars and not to be nervous if he sees a different car in the driveway at any given time. I'm crafty huh?
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Words of Wisdom Through Pictures
Today after a lovely ham and some wonderful time with my mom, I decided to look through old photos of me and my family. Being an only child there are endless albums of photos of nothing but me. Yes exactly, it's not quite the excitement most people are looking for...but as I was looking through them I kind of remembered little things about myself that I had forgotten. So, here are some thoughts and pictures that I thought had some meaning to them. Enjoy. And if you celebrate Easter, Happy Easter. If not, Happy Sunday. And if you ask me which I did today? I celebrated the Easter Bunny.

Be amazed by the little things, and do something nice for your family. I was picking dandylions and buttercups for my mom here.
Another great Melina pic

Follow your dreams! If you want to be a ballerina and Wonder Woman...do it! There will always be naysayers.
Another great Melina pic

Sometimes you just have to dust yourself off and get back on the bike. You might amaze yourself with the results. It doesn't hurt when you have a hot neighbor next to you to offer support.
Another great Melina pic

Some of the most fun you can have is with yourself. Be your own best friend, and you'll never be lonely.
Another great Melina pic

Stay in touch with nature, it'll keep you sane...this is my first Christmas tree, his name is Fred, Fred and I are still friends although he's about twenty feet taller than me now.
Another great Melina pic

You will have a few blue days in your life. Use this time for introspection. "If you were happy every day of your life you'd be a game show hostess!" (from the movie Heathers)
Another great Melina pic

Have fun doing what you like to do best...regardless what other people think. To them it may be a mudpie, to you it could be a masterpiece.
Another great Melina pic

Always bundle up when you're cold (regardless of the trends) and the love of a good dog is priceless.
Another great Melina pic
Infomercial (The Bathroom Reading Challenge)
(Sorry it's a late entry, but I couldn't get onto BR's blog to look at the pics--or that's the excuse that I'm going with...that and uh...my dog ate my laptop).

Drk returned from his mailbox and entered his renovated Jewish temple with a puzzled look on his face. He hadn't remembered ordering anything, but in his hand he held a very bulky package with his name on it. He sat on the couch and opened the package. It held what appeared to be a form letter and a videotape. He set the tape aside and glanced at the letter, it was from a company called Dating Boot Camp. "Huh?" he muttered outloud. He read on.

Dear Drk,
This is the first step to fun weekends and a fuller life. Congratulations. It's not the easiest thing to admit that you have no game, but now that you have-- we can help you out, and that's a guarantee! Just pop in the tape, open your mind to what our experts have to say and you'll be big pimping, or with that special someone in no time flat. What you do after that...well you'll be on your own with that one stud! So won't you just pop that tape in and see how we can enrich your sorry life?
Best Wishes
Dr. Neil Warren Clark (also the shyster from Eharmony.com)

"Well," Drk thought to himself, "the tape isn't that long." In fact it was shorter than his Eight Minute Abs tape that he was going to do in a few moments. He popped the ab tape out of the VCR and popped in Dr. Clark's dating technique tape.


Darius Rucker (former front man of Hootie and the Blowfish and now the black man dressed in cowboy clothes crooning about Burger King's food) came onto the screen. "Are you tired of spending so much time alone? Are you called a loser? Are you not so smooth with the ladies? Have the ladies asked if you preferred an alternate lifestyle because your flirting skills were less that sharp? If you answered yes to any of these questions boy...I'm here to make you a man. Let's talking about how a real man ought to dress.

Do you have fly threads? Do the ladies think you're a sharp dressed man? Chances are you don't. Take Chip here (flash picture one- you have to scroll down to see them because I'm a nerd and can't link right up to them). This is Chip when he first came to us. In fact, he needed a little more remediation than most so we brought him to the home office to work on him. Chip suffered from Robabankitis...meaning he didn't like his face showing at any given time. This was a little daunting when it came to the dating scene. Chip would be at the bar and trying to lay lines on the fine honeys who would run away from him, not knowing of his medical condition (Robabankitis). So now it's time to take a good look at yourself. Go on, look in a mirror. What do your clothes say about you? Is it what you want to reflect to the girls?

Drk paused the tape and walked over to the mirror. Dictator hat, olive green short sleeved button down, blue jeans, wallet on a chain, green suede and canvas sneakers, two visible tattoos, a leather cuff bracelet, two rubber bands on wrist, a full beard, lip ring, tiny hoops in ears. "So what does my look say about me?" he thought as he twisted, looking at different views of himself in the mirror. "I kind of look like I'm in the military, or maybe ex military and now involved in guerilla warfare...or maybe I look like a little like that guy who always gets his Lucky Charms stolen." Drk shook his head. These were not the looks he was going for. Drk walked into his room, stripped off the offending clothes and slipped into a fluffy white terrycloth robe, leaving his dictator hat in place. "Clean slate time," he said as he passed the mirror and walked back to the VCR and the couch. He hit play and Darius Rucker continued...

"Let's talk about where you take the fine ladies on dates." Think back where was your last date? If you were like Chip (flash back to pic 1) here, you've probably taken her on the convention circuit. You know, Star Wars, Star Trek, The Loveboat Reunion Bonanza..." Drk thought back, he had to admit, he had taken the last girl he had seen out to the local high school's play version of "Yoda-Behind the Movie" (see picture 2 [and yes that large green thing is supposed to be Yoda, sue me]). "Perhaps that wasn't the best choice of dating locations," he thought to himself as he rubbed his chin musingly.
"If you want to get romantic, you've got to infuse the evening with romance." Darius leaned in towards the camera, and appeared to lean towards Drk, "That means for God's sake man, don't take her to see any high school productions of anything." Drk slapped his forehead, "Now you tell me!"

"Finally, communication is key. Agree with the woman. If you and she are out and she says that she sees giant ostrichs in the sky...you say that you do too (picture 3). It's just the way that it has to be man. If you're the type that likes to argue with a lady and constantly point out how wrong she is...it's time to zip your lips son. "

Angry Drk got up, ripped the tape out of the VCR. "I don't want to be a damn Stepford Wife!!" and stomped away from the television. He mused over Rucker's statements all day as he alternately practiced both his guitar and his mandolin. Finally he decided to give it a shot. He wasn't really compromising himself, he was performing an experiment.
*** *****************************************************************************

Melina heard her doorbell ring. She opened her door and saw Drk, but it wasn't the Drk that she was used to. Before her stood a clean shaven boy. Gone was the dictator cap, in it's place was a Von Dutch trucker cap, pink no less. Gone was the olive drab military issue shirt, and it's place was a lacoste polo shirt (you know the ones with the alligator on them). His wallet had no chain, his sneakers were pink and green Roos to match his hat and he was wearing a bling bling watch in the place of his rubber bands and leather cuff. Melina took the whole look in, took a deep breath and asked, "What happened to you?" Before allowing him to speak, she reached out and touched his forehead with the back of her hand. "Are you sick? Were you abducted by the Moonies?" As she asked this she grabbed Drk's pink polo and pulled him into the house. "What's wrong with you?"

Drk sat on the couch and began to sob, "It's all Darius Rucker's fault." Melina was puzzled, "You know Darius Rucker?" Thinking that perhaps her former little pirate had lost his mind she rubbed his back and asked soothingly, "And what was Darius Rucker telling you to do." Drk sputtered, "He, he...he told me how to be more smooth with the ladies...well with you." Melina's incredulous and puzzled look melted from her face. She cupped his baby smooth cheeks (which now made him look like he was ten years old, and made Melina feel like a child molester), "Drk, I like you...just the way you are" and she planted a kiss on his forehead with her really hot Nars lipgloss that set her back $23.00 at Sephora.

"Did you steal that from Bridget Jones' Diary?"
"Well yeah, Mark Darcy did say that in the movie but I wasn't thinking about that. I was just thinking about you...wait a minute. How do you know what was said in Bridget Jones' Diary?
Sheepishly Drk looked into Melina's eyes, "I love that movie."
"Well why don't we go back to your Jewish temple, get your normal clothes on...we can come back here and watch the movie. How does that sound?"

Drk thought back to what Darius Rucker said about always agreeing with the lady and pushed that thought aside...he reached out and grabbed Melina. He pulled her down towards him and they retreated into a deep velvety kiss. Pink polos, Von Dutch hats and Darius Rucker all melted from their reality until there was nothing left but the two of them. Oh and the dog. That dog is a real sweetheart.

(Hey, a girl can dream right??)
Saturday, March 26, 2005
Can We Fuck Soon? A Love Letter To Drk
This is a letter that I would write Drk if I would actually write him letters (do coaster notes count?) I've been rehearsing it all night as I sit here climbing the walls because I'm too poor to go out and because I'm sexually deprived. So read on at your leisure.

Dearest Drk (yes I would leave out the vowels in my letter to him),
Hi! It's your favorite barfly Melina. If you received three identical text messages from me last night, I plead guilty. Yes, I thought I could control myself and I put your number into my brand new cell phone (it's really hot...it has a camera...you know what we could do with that my hot boy?). I put you under the title, "The Hottest boy Ever," it suits you. Really it does! So back to those text messages. Yeah. I left the bar last night around 2am I was waiting for you to come back over before closing so that I could suggest that you stop by and play with the dogs (because I'm not above pimping them out to keep you in close proximity of me)...but you were too busy...or maybe you've just had enough of Melina for one week (I don't know how that's possible) whatever the reason, I didn't get closure from the evening. But I did get drunk. And I did play the new pinball machine. Are you responsible for that? I did mention that I was sick of the T3 game...the Playboy bunny one is pretty cool. It's actually a collector's item, did you know that?

So Drk...I went home last night alone. I was tempted to call Matty, or even that asshole Todd because I am in heat. There's no classy way to put it. I've been trying to "behave" myself to show you that I'm actually serious about you but it's REALLY HARD, and I don't think you even notice. Did you see when I rubbed up against the pole in the bar? Kidding. But seriously, I'm starting to act like a cat in heat. We need to fix this. Yes, you and I.

You and I make progress and then it halts. As the great Paula Abdul once crooned, "I take two step forwards, you take two steps back" I'm not sure why, but it probably should end. In one way or another. Yes Drk, I'm going to date someone (once I find someone up to my standards) if you don't get on the ball. So you can tell your punk rock friends who look at me with disdain because I left my bullring at home and my nipple clamps were just too uncomfortable for the bar (kidding, I don't have nipple clamps), that our "romance" may be ending soon. It might be flattering for you...or annoying, I'm not sure which...but it kind of sucks here on my end.

I know that you don't think we could work because of our work schedules being the exact opposite, and my love of bloody rare meat, and my obsession with alcohol and being a sloppy drunk BUT I think we can. I can drink a little less (I only come to the bar to see you), I'll prepare my bloody cows when you're not around...and I will fuck you silly when you come home from work even though you'll have to wake me up to do it. I'm ok with that. Oh, and you'll be able to tell everyone who lives in our cornfield that you wake up next to me! Oh wait, so has half the cornfield...well you can tell them that I let you stay (I usually send all the other little boys home). Listen here Hottie--we can work. I can make one hell of a tofu stirfry which is a hell of a lot better than your daily diet of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. That's sick. Powdered cheese? And you don't think we can work? You silly, silly man.

So Hottie...it's time to act. I'm a woman of action (in every sense of the word) and I've been treading water for you for about four months...and you were worth the wait, and still are, but I don't see the point of it if you don't jump in the pool and tread with me.

Yours if you want me, Melina

PS. I want to trace your tattoos with my tongue.
PSS. I wrote this letter naked.
PSSS. I took pictures with the new camera phone.
PSSSS. The phone melted, I looked so hot.
Friday, March 25, 2005

Hi I'm the dog that Drk calls his "little sweetheart" although my ma thinks I'm anything but...I think she's just jealous because he can't keep his hands of ME! Now scram, I have to get some sleep before these guys come back here and pretend that they can still "party like rockstars"...how lame can they get?
Another great Melina pic
Thursday, March 24, 2005

Hi my name's Drk...I'm pretty much the cutest cook ever. I'm the man that makes Melina wet. Oh and have you met her dog? That dog is a sweetheart. A real sweetheart. (Don't you just want to hug him?)
Another great Melina pic
Remember That Game 7 Mins in Heaven? I Just Experienced a Half Hour in Heaven
So today totally sucked because I was bored, home alone with two bickering dogs and swamped with work I didn't want to do. Then I went to the gym with Chelle and I had high hopes of getting to thitwbar so that I could tell Drk to come over...you know, to meet my other dog...yeah right that's why. Uh huh, really. Well Chelle couldn't go out because she had a family function to deal with. Me being in a bad mood from being bored all day and bummed at the prospect of not seeing Drk for yet another day...so I was pretty bitchy, sorry Chelle. I think that, paired with the fact that I was starving (as I have started a new diet for the upcoming bikini season)...yeah, I was pretty much the devil. If not the devil, his sister.

So I pouted on the couch, with the not so cuddly bickering dogs thinking about all the fun I could be having at thitwbar when my phone rang! I instantly perked up, but it was a number I didn't know. As a drunken fool, it's best not to pick up when such an instance occurs because who knows what weirdo I gave my phone number to. So I let it ring. They don't leave a message. I start to think that perhaps it's Chelle's sister's cell number so I text it. "Hey I missed your call. Who is this by the way?" Well shocks among shocks...it's Todd! He replied that he was using his best friend's phone. Sneaky bastard. My response, "Oh." And that was that. In a way, I was hoping that he'd call, just so I could get out to see my main cook, but I was also releaved that he didn't call. But who would after my text back to him?

Cr saved the day. She sent me a text saying that she was coming to get me and that she'd have a drink or two with me at thitwbar. Say no more! I'm ready! We get to the bar, no one fun was really there-I mean except for you know who. Cr and I chatted with Chris the bartender for a little, you know making small talk and whatnot. When finally, Drk emerges from the kitchen to talk with me. We chat. We make fun of each other. He calls my favorite dog a sweetheart and points at the bruises that line my forearms and says, "See!" laughing. Uh yeah, while at my party, Drk riled the pup up to the point where she would run AWAY FROM THE GUY WHO WAS BEATING HER UP and BITE ME! AND THEN RUN BACK TO HIM. My arms are horrendous. All week people have been giving me battered women's pamphlets and speaking in very soothing tones to me. I guess they thought I was gripped up. Is it more embarassing to say it's your dog? Who's not a puppy? Who's supposed to be loyal to you and not the cook from the local bar? Well then Cr cuts into Drk and my dreamy conversation that was flowing so well...hell, we were riffing off each other! She cuts in and says, "Hey Drk, will you take M home later if I go home now?" I look at the clock, it's 10:35, as I'm saying, "Um no, I can't stay here for like five hours! I'll be wasted!" Drk apparently said that yes he would take me home. (Have I said I loved him lately? Well I do. Not in my normal lusty way, but in the "he's such a nice person" way...along with the other way). Drk says, "Geez Cr, way to break up the party..." but smiled because I probably made the right decision. I thought this was the right time to tell him that he could come over any time this weekend to hang out with the older dog that he wanted to meet. He smiled and said, "Oh no. You talked me out of that one when you said that you'd have to stitch me up!" I backpedaled. "That dog is fantastic. I realized after spending the day with them that it's all the little one's fault. He grabs the other one by the throat, the little one is the instigator!!" And what does the hottest cook in the Northern Hemisphere say? "Oh no...that little dog is a sweetheart!" and with that statement, I grabbed my coat, gave Drk my toothiest smile and said goodbye. Parting is such sweet sorrow. It really sucked actually. But at least I got to talk with him for fifteen minutes. More tomorrow? I hope so.
Could This Be The Source of My Poor Judgement?
So I email Chelle my horoscope for the day (which I never believe in, unless they tell me something really good is going to happen), and it was all about the "one that I've been pursuing blah blah blah will fall in love with you tonight" or something to that extent. Then I sent her an email telling her that I put a cute pic of the dogs up and this is how she responds:

I saw.....so cute. You should print the pic and take it to Drk. Tell him that they are waiting for him!! Then shove him in the cage and throw pecans at him until he proposes.

Ok...I will not be shoving him the dog crate any time soon, or throwing pecans at him (I'm allergic) just so you all don't have to fear for Drk's life. But apparently my little one sided romance has caused my friends to also take a little detour from reality and go straight to Crazyville...I have to admit though, I laughed for a good three minutes over the image I got in my head.

Here's the bait (on the left wearing the black coat). He looks harmless but he has already torn the brown babe up pretty badly in the past...it appears they have put their differences aside for a few moments.
Another great Melina pic
Spring Break 2005--It Sure Ain't Like The Spring Breaks of My Past
Whooo! Who's ready for the wet t-shirt contest?
ZZZZZZZZZZ....
Oh I'm sorry, I nodded off. This is pretty much the worst Spring Break ever...(and yes Kip from Napoleon Dynamite...Like anyone COULD ever know that! Me!). I remember the Spring Breaks of my yesteryears. I was drunk, hot boys were drunk, we were tan, we were nekkid...actually no...
My birthday fell over Spring Break every year in college. So my 21st birthday, I was going to be spending it in Panama City Beach, Fla (the poor college student vacation). My parents were lending me their boat of a car so that five of my closest sorority sisters (yep I was a sista) and I could head down to the best vacation of my life. But first? First I had to tell my parents that I had been arrested for underage drinking...gulp...

It kind of went like this. Parents show up with large boat that impersonated a car. I hug them, I go to lunch with them. They are about to leave in my car (we swapped) and I lean in the window, "Oh by the way..." My dad just hit the up button the power window and slammed the car into gear. I think I heard him cursing at me until he got back on the turnpike. I turned my cell phone off, and I was off for vacation (oh, the charges were later dropped due to insufficient evidence) and my birthday!

We drove down to Panama City in 15 hours. I drove the whole way and stopped only once for the girls to eat dinner. I was determined to get the party started. I was feeling a little achy, but I chalked it up to stress (midterms/telling parents about being arrested) and driving for fifteen hours straight. We got down there early. Too early to check into our hotel room, so we went to Walmart. As children of the North, we were excited to shop for kegs and booze in Walmart, of all places. All my friends were buzzing around buying all sorts of liquor and saying, "Happy Birthday M. This is for you!" as they put into the cart. I would smile weakly because I was feeling even a little more run down. Well fuck that. I was going to party hard, sick or not. You turn 21 once.

As we loaded our booty (mostly alcoholic beverages) into the car it began to rain torrentially. The temperature began to plummet. I think it evened out somewhere between 45-55 degrees F. and remained there for the rest of the week (as it poured). My parents (in PA) were experiencing highs of 65-70 F weather all week (which is by no means warm, but Hello!!!!).

Day two...that night at 12 I was going to turn 21! During that day, my body started to turn a lovely shade of red as a rash started spreading across my body starting on my belly. Yes, just as on the Oregon Trail, I had developed Scarlet Fever. Again. I had Scarlet Fever when I was in third grade...who gets that this day and age? Apparently me! And it's supposed to be like chicken pox, once you get it, you're never supposed to get it again. Well, I've had it three times and I don't doubt that I will get it again someday! I had to go to some creepy free clinic place where all the Spring Breakers were being treated for the Clap and Chlamydia...and in walks the human rash. Never in my life did I feel more repugnant. The room full of walking STDs parted like the Dead Sea and let me walk past them. And that folks, was the worst birthday/Spring Break ever. I wasn't allowed to drink all week because of the meds that I was on...and I didn't want to risk it because everyone was all freaked out (Doctor-wise, my friends were drunk pretty much all week) about me getting it twice. I couldn't tan because a) it poured all week and b)I was covered with an icky photosensitive rash. I couldn't fuck because a) I didn't have the energy and b) no one would come near me because they thought I had some tropical disease. I couldn't drink because a) the meds and b) because all my friends drank all my "birthday presents" when they heard I wasn't allowed to drink.

This Spring Break so far:
I have watched about 20 hours of TV I have taped over the last three years and haven't had time to watch. I should've never taped this crap because it all sucked.

I have been bitten by my dogs about 1,093 times because I've tried to intervene in their fights.

I have begged six people to go drinking with me. None of them obliged me.

I have done some of my job duties that I have to bring home with me...but not nearly enough.

I have washed my hair twice, attempting two different hairstyles.

I have applied makeup like I saw in one of the magazines and recreated the look perfectly.

I have posted about twelve posts in six hours.

I am going to update my scrapbook...if I can get my butt off my couch to find it first.

Whooo go Spring Break '05!
She's Crafty, She Gets Around...C'Mon Everyone Sing With the Beastie Boys
So when Drk stepped his tiny green sneakered feet into my home Sunday morning and played with one of the dogs he was asking about the other dog. I told him that he's staying elsewhere for right now because the dogs aren't getting along--and the medical bills were starting to pile up. I do want them to get along, but I can't afford for them not to. I have people dogsitting while I seek out a behavioral specialist to help me fix my one dog who is feral at times when it comes to the smaller dog. Literally. Feral.

When Sweet, Sweet Drk (do you think I can get him to change his name to that?) learned that the other dog was missing from my home he asked if he could meet the feral one. I think he thinks he's the dog whisperer or something. Well, I brought doggie #2 home and he's getting along ok with the smaller one (they are both napping right now). Now why did I bring the dog home? Yes, it's because I missed him...but I can't say that's the only reason. The secondary reason? Because of course I'm going to go to thitwbar and drop the fact out there for Drk that my canines and I are one big happy family again and see if I can't lure him over...perhaps he can leave the green kicks at home? Actually, they were kind of nice. So things can go nicely...he comes over. Or it can go badly...he comes over and the big dog rips his face off. Or it can go badly...he remains daft/or uninterested (whichever he is) and does not come over at all. C'mon! It's my spring break from work! I want to get naked with a hot local boy...I'll show him my all over tan.
He Loves Me...
Oh wait did you think I was talking about Drk? Fooled you sucker! Oh no, no, no my dear friends we're not talking about Drk, we're talking about Todd. Here's the voice message I received last night at 10:51 pm:

"Melina, when you get this message call me back..." I may be new to the whole collaboration of telephone and answering machine, but I kind of thought that was the whole point of YOU leaving ME a message. I don't think I need the instructions. And no, I won't be calling you back...unless, I am very drunk and all other suitable men have left the building. That is pretty much the only time I call you...very similar to when you call me I think. (lots of noise in the background, sounds as if perhaps he has fallen off his barstool but was able to regroup) "...and hey, I love you."

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha- This is me, laughing my ass off. Oh, and I love you too.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Bring On Spring Break, The Snow and The Boredom
WTF? The weather sucks, it's rainy and they are calling for more snow. Oh the humanity! I'm sooo bored and it's all my friends' faults...whaa. I'm feeling very whiny today/tonight. I wanted to go out tonight but unfortunately no one else did...geez, what- does everyone have to work on Thursday, uh yeah, I guess they do. Fuck me! Chelle ignored my plea after the gym, Cr ignored my text message, Nina is already out- but she's out of town, Ml is stuck on the off-ramp of the Pocono exit going on her second hour...it's closed because of the snow. Bob called, but I didn't pick up because I was on the phone with Ml and he didn't leave a message. I didn't want to call him back anyways because I think he's got designs on me (this is the third phone call in three days). I kind of caught that vibe off of him at my party when he was drunk and asked me if he was sleeping in my bed with me. He also told me (again) that he has a 9 and 1/2 inch penis. I told him I didn't care because I was going to sleep next to Drk and Bob visibly pouted. I can't deal with that.
Don't get me wrong Bob is a sweetheart but he kind of reminds me of Lurch from the Addam's family (not that he's hideous or anything; just stiff, awkward and tall like him-okkkk now I'm insulting my friend--sorry buddy). He also talks slow and that bothers me for some reason. Ok, apparently I'm picky. Actually, the fact that he's not Drk is enough reason for me not to like Bob.
9:04 pm Text message from Todd "Cum to Thitwbar" Uh yeah, let me think about that one. We had sex a couple of times casually and we agreed that we liked the arrangement. I text message you for sex, I get no response. You text message me a month later and you think I'm going to jump? In the words of Tori Amos, "You can make me cum, that don't make you Jesus." No thanks. Get out of my bar please...even if I have no one to go with, I don't want you tainting up the place...and please God don't let him talk about me in front of Drk...pleeaaasssee?

9:06pm S text messages me. "How was the party?" Um you were invited (because I was drunk when I saw you out at the bar and invited you by accident) and you didn't come. Fuck off. My response: "It totally rocked. It went from 7pm-7am."

9:07pm S's response: "My loss" No fucking kidding Sherlock.

9:08pm I wonder why both of them sent me text messages within minutes of each other. As they are not members of a braintrust (ouch I'm being very mean tonight) that means that they are probably together at my bar. Ick. Get out! I want to go! But I can't, because I can't be THAT girl at the bar alone. It'll ruin my cred. Drk will cart me off to AA (will he touch me when he does this? I can handle that...) Sometimes it sucks being a girl. Guys can walk into the bar, grab their balls and then straddle a barstool. People think nothing of this (except perhaps...Jock itch?). If I walked into the bar and grabbed a solitary barstool people would tisk, some would murmur dirty rumors (that may or may not be true) about me, and the bartenders would just grin and get my usual.

I'm busting out No Doubt's I'm Just A Girl because that's how I'm feeling right now. If you could see me, I'm pouting. I'm glad you can't see me because I look silly when I pout. This rant is now done...for a little while, until boredom strikes back. Because you know it always does!
A Love Letter To My Dad
Jackie's post made me do something similar, although not quite as good.

Dear Dad,
I know you can't read this a)because I've never given you the web address and b) because you are now in an urn in my closet next to my favorite sweater, but I wanted to write you a love letter because I miss you and I wanted to thank you for some things that you did, that other parents never think to do.

Thank you for making the magnetized walnut boat with me one rainy day when I was four. It was so awesome learning how to magnetize a needle, and make a cute sail to load into my dainty walnut. When we raced walnut boats around in the baby pool in the basement, I thought I was part magic since I was able to "pull" my boat across with just a simple magnet.

Thanks for helping me make a paper mache pinata in the basement for my fifth birthday party that was so strong that my kindergarten teacher had to take the bat from us and bash the pinata repeatedly until he broke a sweat (and eventually the pinata). I think we made too many layers. Just a guess.

Thank you for going on quiet hikes with me at the local national park. It was weird, but when we walked out there we both let down our guards and we actually talked like I was a grown up...too bad I'm still not a grown up, but at least I can talk like one.

Thank you for teaching me how to tie my shoes. The coolest part? You only had one finger and a thumb and yet you carefully explained it to me. In fact--when I was little, I was able to model what you did and for a while there, I could tie my shoes with just one finger and a thumb...that talent escapes me now sadly.

Thank you for teaching me good manners. There isn't a day that goes by that I haven't been rewarded for just being genuinely polite and nice. I don't need the reward, but it sure is nice.

Thank you for buying me an eye patch when we were in Disney World when I was six. When everyone stared at me for being weird and different, I kind of felt like I knew what it was like to be you for a day. Thank you for holding me when I cried after that experience as I sobbed that"the world was so mean to my daddy." You were a brave man, but you never admitted to it.

Thank you for teaching me the value of spending money for quality shoes and underwear. I think that you are the only man who has ever understood this. I blame my ungodly Victoria's Secret bills on you...but you were right, if you feel comfortable in them (and your own skin) then you'll look good in them too.

Thank you for teaching me that it was cool to stand out from everyone else. I cried when you lost my green tree name tag they sent us for the first day of kindergarten, and I cried even harder when you made me a new one, a bigger one, a red one...but when I got to school, everyone ooohhhed and ahhhed over it. You made me a trendsetter. Thanks you're cool.

Thanks for teaching me how to pack lightly. Your tutelage has paid off. I am one of few people that I know (especially female) who can pack a week's worth of clothes in an old bookbag and still have several clothing options.

Thanks for teaching me how to ride a bike. People underestimate how hard is to teach someone how to ride a bike with only one leg...and only a vague recollection of HOW to ride a bike.

Thanks for giving me a kickass middle name. It has never ceased to make me feel special, even if it is a little cheesy. I still feel a bit dangerous with it.

Thanks for trying to make me see what you saw in me, even when I was smearing makeup (badly) all over my face, trying to make myself "pretty" like the older girls. I'm not always the most secure but I get what you mean about natural beauty, it is by far better than caked on fakeness.

Thank you for accepting my plea when I was four not to have another child because "I didn't want to share you." I have never regretting that decision, not even for a second. You filled my heart and my time better than any sibling would've.

I do NOT thank you for eating my Chopper Hopper's (the Easter Bunny who rides a motorcycle) ears off every Easter, citing that the "ears are the best part." I do not thank you because now that I can eat the ears, I tear them off and throw them away (kind of like pouring out a forty for my dead homie).

Thank you for teaching me the fine art of spontaneity. Like the time Mom said she wanted lobster so we packed into the car and drove to Maine?!? That was the coolest thing ever.

Thank you for teaching me how to fish. I love the picture of you and I when I caught my first fish. It's picture of you in overalls, the fisherman's cap turned jauntily to the side with your hand on your hip, smiling down on me. Me, I'm wearing some crazy looking blue polyester jacket, my (then) long blonde hair waving around in the breeze as I smile sweetly at the tiniest Sunny ever! Thank you for teaching me how to remove the hook carefully and to let the fish go. I don't fish anymore since I don't like to eat them or hurt them, but it was fun with you.

Thank you for making me hot chocolate every night in the winter when I was up late studying or doing work for school. It melted the stress out of young body. It still does. Except I can't drink it because it makes me miss you.

Thank you for helping me mold my loud, irreverent personality. I used to be so unsure about everything and unable to make simple decisions. That wasn't a good way to live...and I'm much happier now.

Thank you for being my dad. Thank you for being such a good dad that I cry because of all the great times we had together, and I can forget about all the bad times (and they were some doozies). Thanks for making me cry right now. People probably think that I'm a weirdo. But hey, I'm your daughter.
Spring Break
Hooray! After today's day of "work" (sitting around emailing friends and family), I will be officially on holiday (as those really cool Brits say) until Tuesday. Let the drinking commence! Well, I mean after work of course. Now, who can I weasel into joining me in my little trip to thitwbar? Cr? Chelle? Hmmm (eyebrow raised diabolically, while rubbing chin for no reason).
Breakfast of Champions
I have never been a breakfast foods kind of person...in fact, I can't even remember the last time I actually had a "proper" breakfast. But today's breakfast takes the cake of malnutrition. Here goes:
1 glass of diet Creme Soda
a handful of pepperoni slices left over from my party (had to share with slobbering dogs too)
a ring pop (courtesy of a friend, it was supposed to be a snack yesterday afternoon. It became a part of my "balanced" meal)
1 can of Diet Pepsi
3 red grapes
three or four gummy Easter eggs...and there you have it, my breakfast.

As Joan Cusak says John Cusak (Llyod Dobler) in Say Anything "There's no food in your food!" Yep, that's me!
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Celebrity
I'm going to dinner at my friend's house who has the address to this blog. Her husband and she both read it...but apparently she doesn't read it quite as well as he does. When they were discussing alcoholic beverages and needs for the party, V incorrectly stated what I would probably drink (which in reality, is anything except rubbing alcohol) and her husband corrected her citing the blog as his source of information! Let's just say, I'm a little nervous about our dinner conversation (kidding A...I'm not really all that worried). Ok, not worried, but how do we turn this into polite dinner conversation? Hmm, not really sure.

PS. A, you can post comments as a "non blogger". Just hit "comment" and then it has a box for "non bloggers" you just fill in that part. It's just that simple. Uh oh, did I just unleash the hounds for comments?
Monday, March 21, 2005
Too Little Too Late...At Least Until Wednesday
So it's 9:35 pm here in the cornfield and Matty just calls me and leaves a message that says, "Hey, it's Matt. Call me back." First of all, I was here when he called. I saw his name flashing on my phone and I thought, "I don't want to talk with you because A) I'm all sweaty and gross from the gym and there's just not enough time for me to shower and ready myself for a couple of hours of sex (wow, did I really just say that??) and more importantly B) You didn't even come to my birthday party...which was so egregious I had to sit and wait patiently for the message, and not do what I really wanted to do--which was pick up the phone."

Drk came to my party. Drk must've realized how much importance I put on the night...it's time I kind of put a little more importance on him, especially since my trysts with Matty have been made known at thitwbar. Maybe it'll make no difference to Drk but maybe it will.

Now I reserve the right to get drunk on Wednesday (I have off work Thurs and Fri) and have sex with Matty...because then it'll be on my terms (at least in my convoluted way of thinking!).
Wedding Blogs and Bells (this post is just a joke, seriously)
So when Drk and I eventually marry...you know after we eventually kiss and eventually date...do you think I should give him the web address to the blog? You know as a special wedding day gift? I was thinking I'd put music in the background--"Hopelessly Devoted To You" sounds appropriate. Ok, that's my last Drk post for the day...probably because it'll probably be my last post for the day!
New Things I've Learned About Drk
1. He's a vegetarian. Who knew? Not me. This is good news, as I cannot stand preparing raw meat and I never knew what I was going to do when my future spouse asked me to make him a whole chicken or turkey. I cannot handle any meat that is on a bone (shut up all you perverts that are about to make some comment)...so we'll eat a Tofurkey, that's fine with me. I'll eat burgers on my own time as well as steak. He doesn't seem to be a meat snob so I don't think he'll care if I want to continue eating it...because I will still eat it. Why am I constantly surrounded by vegetarians? In high school 90% of my school was vegetarian and they only served vegetarian meals.

2. He used to be "bad". He used to steal stuff, do drugs and drink all the time...I kind of figured as much but it was nice to hear it from his own mouth. He's so cute. I can't picture him being bad.

3. He's as sarcastic as hell. I always knew he had a slightly biting wit, but when I got his undivided attention for five or so hours I was entertained continually by his hilarious commentary on life. I am a sucker for sarcasm. I'm also a sucker for cute boys with their dead dog's name tattoed on them...that's really what I'm a sucker for!

4. He's taller than me. I thought he might be, but since I always wear high heels I typically tower over him. When he arrived at my house, I was shoeless...we got a picture taken together (I looked dazed, almost deer caught in the headlights scared) and he is most definitely taller than me. By an inch or so. So we're really short, but we make a very striking couple--me dazed with head cocked and him smiling terroristically at the camera.

There's probably more stuff but I figure you guys are on Drk overload but I just can't get enough. I was told before the party that I have to move on from Drk, and I agreed. Post-party, I have been given the green light to still hold a torch for him, however, I'm banned from making crazy overt gestures of love in public...this will still probably happen on the rare occasion, I'm not going to lie. But now that Drk is an actual person and not just a cute boy I lust after, I think things are going to be better ;)
Sunday, March 20, 2005

This is Drk's sexy come hither pose...I think the bunny ears are what makes the picture work for him. Either that or he's staring me down because I made him wear the bunny ears. Nah, because in the next picture he's really smiley about wearing them!
Another great Melina pic

Castro Gone Wild!! or My Own Private Playgirl Bunny. Uh yeah, this picture was taken at 7 am...soon after this we were sleeping together (uh, sleeping in close proximity to each other).
Another great Melina pic
Another Snippet Of Conversation With Drk
Melina: (Showing Drk the picture of the girthy boy from the bar) How can you let this happen in your bar?
Drk: Oh that? ____ does that all the time!
Melina: And you let him?
Drk: Uh yeah...it's not an unknown occurence to happen. Heck even I've been known to whip it out on occasion.
Melina: (raising a quizzical eyebrow) Reeeeaaallly...?
Drk: Didn't you know? thitwbar is a gay bar. It's really the only reason I work there.
Melina: Well that explains a few things...
Drk: Not really...but it was a funny story.
A Snippet of Conversation
Chelle: Drk why aren't you drinking and getting drunk?
Drk: Because I don't really drink.
Chelle: But you did that shot the other night...
Drk: Yeah but if you want to get me drunk, you might have to give me a shot harder than...than (snapping his fingers unable to remember the name of the shot).
Melina: The milk shot?
Drk: (laughing) Yeah I did a shot of milk...that'll get me drunk...It's a milkshake.
Melina: (also laughing) I tried to get them to give you two percent but they said you were watching your girlish figure...so they gave you skim.
Drk: (nods sagely)
Mini Polls Myths Debunked Or Our ESPN Was A Bit Off
1. No one puked on my green carpet. However, puking did occur in my bathroom. Chelle became Florence Fucking Nightingale...spoon feeding drunk ass Carolyn carrot cake and pretzels, because that's what you give people after they puke in your friend's house. Dumbass.

2. Ok so we rolled our eyes about the idea that Drk would come to the party...but he did. Ok I have very little faith in most things...but I now have total faith in Drk. He's seriously my angel. I've been touched by an angel...ok, it was only a grazing of the hands while we petting my dog but I was touched, so there.

3. First we said Chelle was going to bed down another hottie. Technically he was bedded...because he slept in the same bed as her, but he got as much action as Drk because Chelle was freaked out by "ESPN girl's" marriage prediction. Yeah, what the fuck is wrong Chelle and Drk...put out or get out! Seriously.

4. Ok prediction #4 was the fact that Matty and I were going to making out like mad...uh yeah, he never even showed up!

5. Prediction #5. "Someone will get cake smooshed in their face". Um yeah, no one got cake smashed in the face because Steve ate all the cake.

6. Prediction #6. "People would say something stupid about Cr and C getting back together". Actually most people said,"Awwww I missed C. He's soo nice!"

7. Prediction # 7. "Ry will try to walk home drunkenly." Um yeah, Ry didn't even make it to the party because he had too much "fun" at the other party...

8. Prediction #8. "Porn will be watched and analyzed" Nope, no porn was watched at all. Although, I did tell Drk that I was going to rent some porn with my new gift certificates. He just nodded at me.

read on to find out what occurred at the par-tay!!
The Party--Watch Out It's A Drk Love Fest!!!
Where should I begin. I have Chelle sitting next to me and we literally don't even know where to start! The party had a slow start but then I turned around and there were like fifty people standing in my living room. Instead of writing this in paragraph form I think it would be best to just bullet the highlights, so here goes:

1. Cr's dad came to the party...he's a biker (in a gang no less) and he brought a couple of his friends to the party. Some people were a little nervous about this but...they were pretty much the nicest guys at the party and every time I looked at the one guy Steve, he was stuffing another piece of carrot cake in his mouth. He single handedly ate half of a sheet cake!

2. Chelle honed on Cr's friend Eric yesterday...she set her goals--namely him, and...they ended up hooking up. Nothing too risque (so she says, but she's fairly sure they are going to get married and she's going to have 10,000 of his babies. Ok so I made that part up, but she likes him).

3. I stuck to the idea that Drk was going to show up at my party at 3am (when he was done working) so I stopped drinking heavily around 1 or so...I didn't really think he was going to show up but just in case, I wanted to be prepared.

4. Drk showed up! Cr's dad stopped at the bar and gently reminded him that he was supposed to come to Cr and my birthday party. God bless scary biker men! Now can he make Drk marry me? My guess is yes.

5. There was a "psychic" at my party, her name was Carolyn and she might've been the drunkest girl in the world. She kept telling Chelle that she and Eric were going to get married in ten years...wow, what a timeline! Carolyn kept saying (repeatedly) that she had some kind of sixth sense and snapped her fingers saying, "You know E...E..." Drk, being the helpful boy that he is said, "ESPN?" jokingly and Carolyn said, "Yes! That's exactly it! I have ESPN!" I tried not to smirk because typically, I am "that girl" but I'm not that strong. I laughed. And best of all? Drk and I shared a long, smirky look with each other. For once, we had an inside joke, instead of me being the joke.

6. My friend Tash was sad because her husband and assorted friends wanted to leave the party and she didn't want to go. Sadly she left. A couple of minutes later she reappeared. Apparently she had a crying fit in the car and her husband brought her and her sister back to my house before she started dry heaving. Yes that's how fun the party was...people cried because they didn't want to leave.

7. Most of my guests left by around 2 am (because we're getting old) but...about seven of us who stayed up to about seven am.

8. Technically I got to sleep with Drk...not in the way you think, and not in the way I'd like it to be...but he fell asleep in the chair next to me, where I was on the couch. Technically, Drk spent the night at my house...granted he arrived at 3am and left at 10 am so really...he spent the morning at my house. I feel like this is real progress. Seriously I do. My house is a mess but I don't know if I can ever clean it again because Drk has finally actually been inside my house. Now if only I could get him in my pants! Next week? Who knows.

9. My dog almost peed on Chelle's head this morning. Apparently, the sweet dog likes to go into the spare room and pee on the inflatable bed. Unfortunately...Chelle happened to be there. This time, Chelle caught the pup in time...let's not talk about last time.

10. Too many Irish Carbombs were done by all...all except Drk...he didn't even drink a glass of water. I can truly appreciate my love for him because today was the first day ever that I woke up without a hangover after a party! See he's just really, really good for me.

11. Chelle and I find it absolutely hilarious that I invited a string of ex's and assorted men of my life (including Matty) and the only one who came? Drk! Holy freaking shit, I feel like I'm in bizarro world, where things I want to happen, actually do.

12. I sent Ml a text message telling her that Drk came to my house last night and she asked me if I "hit that". I most certainly did not. I felt like we made real progress and I didn't want to scare him by trying to stick my tongue in his ear or my hands down his pants. I will have to say that I had to sit on my hands for the majority of the night. What did we do for about five hours together? Made fun of Carolyn and I taught him about three betting games that I made him play for about five hours.

13. Drk and I played with my favorite dog all night. I now have about eleven hundred bruises all over my forearms because Drk likes to play rough with the dog and rile him all up... Hmm, will he play rough with me? That will be worth a few bruises. Seriously folks, I think it would be.

14. We learned an important lesson. Never play beer pong in the house with a Retriever lurking under the table. We lost many a ball to a very wet mouth.

15. I'm sure that my neighbors no longer love me. A party until 2am is acceptable. A party until 8 am? Most likely unacceptable, especially to neighbors who don't drink.
Friday, March 18, 2005
Bar Birthdays Are the Best!
So at twelve o' clock this morning we rang in Cr's birthday at the bar. Remember for my birthday Drk brought out my cake and the whole bar sang Happy Birthday to me as it boomed out of the jukebox? Cr's birthday was organized in much the same way...except that there was no cake at hand because I hadn't purchased one. Drk being the cutest little guy ever stabbed a birthday candle through a Peppermint Patty as a little make shift cake. Awww, there's so much to love about him. When he came around again he saw that Cr hadn't eaten any of her Peppermint Patty and he became mock indignant, "That's the last birthday cake I will ever make for you again!" and stomped off. I think this is where I threw a Sacajewea (sorry I butchered her name) dollar at him. Yes, I threw different denominations at him all night...because I'm just that cool. Or not.

On an unrelated note, Chelle has decided to give up on B. He hasn't called her, he hasn't responded to her text messages so he's obviously "just not into her." She seems pretty non plussed about the whole thing saying,"I just wanted to have sex with him again...I didn't want a wedding ring!" Well I'm happy about that, but it sucks when silent rejection takes place regardless of how you feel about the person. So as a first step of leaving B in the far recesses of her mind, she took his phone number out of her phone. In a slight moment of weakness, she wrote it down on the back of a business card...but who am I to judge? Drk's number is neatly written in my phone book of close personal contacts... although I haven't called it in months.

Another unrelated note...I decided to stay in tonight due to my imbibial (new word created by me!) habits from last night and to be fresh and ready for my party tomorrow! I learned my lesson after my Halloween party where I was puking my guts out right up to the point when the first guest arrived. This will not be the case tomorrow!
Probably The Coolest Man Ever! And I'm Him!
According to the "Which'>http://www.alansmind.com/lebowskiquiz.php">"Which Big Lebowski character are you?" quiz:

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One of the All Time Greatest Movie Characters Ever...And I'm him!!
According to the "Which'>http://www.alansmind.com/lebowskiquiz.php">"Which Big Lebowski character are you?" quiz:

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Yeah I was so drunk that I missed the fact that he was holding his penis...first of all, who does this? And secondly, holy shit that's a lot of girth. I never once gave thought to hitting that, but now I'm going to have to.
Another great Melina pic
The Eve of Cr's Birthday...Aka...I Got Really Drunk And I Had An Excuse
First of all the night could've been called, "Shots, shots and more shots!" We just realized that we did ten shots in two hours. Um, hi alcohol poisoning--nice to meet you! However, Chelle thinks that we got our daily dosage vitamin C and calcium because of the lime and Baileys (I personally doubt there a lot of calcium in there...). The members of the "in-crowd" included: Chelle, Cr, Cr's boyfriend C, C's bro, and Ml for a little bit.

Drk was being sociable with everyone but little ol' me...probably because I was mean to him. I openly announced to the bar that he had gained the five pounds that I recently lost! Gee, I really wonder why he hasn't taken a liking to me? And I really wonder why I persist in using the second grade dating methods, you know-the whole " I love you so I think I'll tell everyone you smell" mentality. I even went as far as to throw 19 nickels at him. I'm not sure why, but it was funny at the time. Honestly, I really don't think he could find a classier catch! Who else would tell him that he's hot one minute, then tell him that he's getting a gut, then throw money at him? No one but me baby!

Chris, the bartender was working last night and it was the first time I had seen him since the whole "Matty/Condom" incident, and of course, Chris doesn't let me slide on anything. He smirks and says, "How was the rest of your birthday night?" I attempt to be sly and say, "Good, nothing happened" because of course, I'm trying to appear virginal at the bar (for Drk's sake--they really never know that I go home with people!! We probed them about it). I tried to blame Cr for the incident but she wouldn't go with it! Damn her. I definitely looked guilty as hell. Oh well. Now Drk knows I'm not a virgin...because you know he definitely thought so before (uh huh). Other than us girls being ragged on by the bartenders, and us harrassing them (throwing coinage at them and such) the night was fairly uneventful...oh except for that fellow and the penis picture...so we decided to party it up in my basement bar. This is a good thing, because the bar has seen very little action other than what Matty and I have given it.

We all pretty much just hung out downstairs. C's brother and I got the wise idea to play beer pong at three thirty am so we ventured out to my garage which houses a year round beer pong table. I could put my car in there, but where would the table go, I ask you? We didn't end up playing actually so we came back inside. Other random things that occured were: we invited two strange men home from the bar that no one wanted to hook up with...um why did we bring them again? The one boy kept making Chelle touch his chest and then kept telling her that she was, "Soooo sexy." Chelle was not impressed. Unfortunately I can't retell the events of the rest of the evening because everything became verrrry hazy...

I woke up this morning and the front of my hair is fro-ed ala Richard Simmons, I was hoping for a cool fro but it wasn't in the cards apparently. I have the hair of a gay white man who cries a lot. How did I get it? Not exactly sure. Chelle says that I was sleeping in the corner of the couch all balled up to the point where she actually thought it looked painfully contorted so she stretched my legs out for me.

Today is officially Cr's bday and what has she done so far? Oh, I've made her clean my house for the party--because that's what slobs do, make other people clean. It's a bonus when it's their birthday. Now the rest of the day is devoted to getting things ready for the party...and hopefully I can talk the girls into hitting thitwbar for a little bit so that I can catch a glimpse of my little man...or at the very least find the guy (who I've known forever but I can't ever remember his name) with the girthy penis!! Keep your fingers crossed for me!

Do you really think Drk is going to come to my party? I think I'll faint if I see him standing in my house...seriously. Is it wrong to hope?

Um yeah, I didn't even notice that his penis was out...so obviously I was drunk. Look at the girth on that boy! I never ever planned on hitting that, but now I will. All I have say is, good advertising whatever-your-name-is-again...
Another great Melina pic
Thursday, March 17, 2005
The Only Saint I Like...Oh Other Than That Joan of Arc Chick.
Tonight should be fun. Ml and I are going to the microbrewery to collect our "free" t-shirts which we had to go to a 10 week "boot camp" (ten weeks of stopping in, drinking a beer and getting our cards stamped) to get. We also are in the running to win a trip for two to Ireland. Being that Ml is fully Italian, I'm hoping that my luck 'o the Irish is with us tonight!

After that Chelle, Cr and I are supposed to head over to thitwbar...I know it's been missing me. I haven't been there since last Friday. Wow! It really sucks when I've had to work this much in one week--and for all of it to culminate in a review-today-at 1:30 in the afternoon (my siesta time). Hopefully, it went well...but tonight, I will drink as if everything is fantastic! Wonder if Drk has missed me this week? You and I both know he has...deep down. Way, deep down. He might not ever know it yet!
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
If You Want My Normal Trash Scroll Down To The Next Post
Have you ever had the chance to read Walt Whitman's Song of Myself? If you're like most people you're probably thinking "Hi Snoozeville USA where'd that whore Melina go?" Fortunately for me, I have a couple of other hobbies than staking out which man I'm going to sleep with next...it is also fortunate for me that Song of Myself talks about sex. I'm constantly amazed by people who cannot "hang up their hang ups" about sex and their bodies and societal views. It is kind of like they have resigned themselves to being a "certain way" and any detour from this is somehow a downfall.

When I read Song of Myself for the first time I was in 12th grade and a virgin. Virginal to the extreme. I had kissed one boy in all my life, but it wasn't a bad thing because it wasn't because I couldn't kiss (or do more) with the other boys around, I chose not to. After reading that poem I felt sexy. I felt like I understood what my body was for...and I felt like I had been stagnant because I hadn't understood this before. I understood the message because I felt like Whitman was speaking to me. This poem, along with all the healthy messages from my parents gave me about sexuality is why I'm happy with the things I do with my body. I don't feel degraded, I feel worshipped. Even if it is just for one night ;) So my fiends (uhh I meant friends), I want to share with you Whitman's poem:


Walt Whitman, a cosmos, of Manhattan the son,
Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking and breeding,
No sentimentalist, no stander above men and women or apart from them,
No more modest than immodest.
Unscrew the locks from the doors!
Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs!
Whoever degrades another degrades me,
And whatever is done or said returns at last to me.
Through me the afflatus surging and surging, through me the current and index.
I speak the password primeval, I give the sign of democracy,
By God! I will accept nothing which all cannot have their counterpart of on the same terms.
Through me may long dumb voices,
Voices of the interminable generations of prisoners and slaves,
Voices of the diseased and despairing and of thieves ad dwarfs,
Voices of cycles of preparation and accretion,
And of the threads that connect the stars, and of wombs and of the father stuff,
And of the rights of them the others are down upon,
Of the deformed, trivial, flat, foolish, despised,
Fog in the air, beetles rolling balls of dung.
Through me forbidden voices,
Voices of sexes and lusts, voices veiled and I remove the veil,
Voices indecent by me clarified and transfigured.
I do not press my fingers across my mouth,
I keep as delicate around the bowels as around the head and heart,
Copulation is no more rank to me than death is.
I believe in the flesh and the appetites,
Seeing, hearing, feeling, are miracles, and each part and tag of me is a miracle.
Divine am I inside and out, and I make holy whatever I touch or am touched from,
The scent of these armpits aroma finer than prayer,
This head more than churches, bibles, and all the creeds.
If I worship one thing more than another it shall be the spread of my own body, or any part of it,
Translucent mold of me it shall be you!
Shaded ledges and rests it shall be you!
Firm masculine colter it shall be you!
Whatever goes to the tilth of me it shall be you!
You my rich blood! you milky stream pale strippings of my life!
Breast that presses against other breasts it shall be you!
My brain it shall be your occult convolutions!
Root of washed sweet flag! timorous pond snipe! next of guarded duplicate eggs! it shall be you!Mixed tussled hay of head, beard, brawn, it shall be you!
Trickling sap of maple, fiber of manly wheat, it shall be you!
Sun so generous it shall be you!
Vapors lighting and shading my face it shall be you!
You sweaty brooks and dews it shall be you!
Winds whose soft-tickling genitals rub against me it shall be you!
Broad muscular fields, branches of live oak, loving lounger in my winding paths, it shall be you!Hands I have taken, face I have kissed, mortal I have ever touched, it shall be you.
I dote on myself, there is that lot of me and all so luscious,
Each moment and whatever happens thrills me with joy,
I cannot tell how my angles bend, nor whence the cause of my faintest wish,
Nor the cause of the friendship I emit, nor the cause of the friendship I take again.
That I walk up my stoop, I pause to consider if it really be,A morning glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.
To behold the daybreak!The little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows,The air tastes good to my palate.
Hefts of the moving world at innocent gambols silently rising, freshly exuding,
Scooting obliquely high and low.
Something I cannot see puts upward libidinous prongs,
Seas of bright juice suffuse heaven.
The earth by the sky stayed with, the daily close of their junction,
The heaved challenge from the east that moment over my head,
The mocking taunt, See then whether you shall be master!
Hi! Where Do I Sign Up For Skin Cancer. Oh Over There? Ok.
So I just started tanning. I had to. I fight myself every year (only for the past three) about whether or not I should do it. I know I shouldn't, but it makes me feel good. Goodness knows I'm a hedonist so I say, "Fuck it. I know that I will look good for the short term. Who cares about the wrinkles, and possible melanoma lurking just beneath the dermis?" Secretly I care, really I do. I get up each morning and poke at my face. "Am I getting wrinkles?" I poke, prod, turn my face many different angles and decide that everything is ok. Then I walk past my closet mirror and my ass is tan and I'm even happier, no--elated. Tan butt=small butt.

What is it about going into one of those booths (that incidently look like the teleportation pods from the 80's version of The Fly), with those purple UV bulbs (that I'm supposed to avoid right? that's what my sunglasses are supposed to be blocking correct?), the smell of my skin frying, sweat beading up on my body...why do these things make me smile while I'm in there?

Of course, as I'm putting my clothes back on my mother's voice resounds in my head, "If you want skin like mine when you're my age you better start wearing sunscreen and a hat." Maybe next year--but for right now, I think that this is how I'm going to welcome in Spring.
And What In Front of My Wondering Eyes Should Appear...
My new Mister arrived! Hooray for me! Sigh for my neighbors. And when I ripped open the cardboard box there was an added bonus...the "lavender" color that was expected...was the same color as my adored, my sweet, my Mr. Pink! So I have a new Mr. Pink. God bless Toys in Babeland, Mr. Pink II came with batteries. Smiles all around.
What The Hell Do I Write About When I'm Functioning Normally?
So I can't think of anything to write about today...actually right now. I'm sure if I actually sat down and made myself think then I could post something. There's always a random Ex-File right? But I would like to open the floor and allow questions again. What burning questions are in your mind for me to answer. It can be about me, it can ask me to speculate on something, it can be as stupid as "How much wood can a woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck would chuck wood." I will answer them as best I can. I'm in the mood to be a comment whore, so lavish me with your attention. Pleeeeeaaasse!
The "Martha Stewart" in Me Enjoyed This...(as Chelle would say)
Chelle sends me this and tells me this is what I'll be dealing with in a couple of years...and I say, "Hey, at least the kid is learning what makes him (maybe it's a her?) happy at an early age!" Enjoy!
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
I Want To Take Some Time And Spread Some Love...But Then Again, Don't I Always?
I was thinking about friendships and how they evolve. Some friendships disipate quickly, some bloom again over time, some fade away without notice and some are painfully absent from your life. Is it because we are constantly evolving, or is it the lack of evolution of one of the friends the reason friendships shift and change? I picture it kind of like tectonic plates...sometimes they dive under the other quietly (and slowly) and other times they collide when they shift, causing a major upset.

I have always had a knack for making friends. I can walk into a room and easily chat someone up and then ending up having that person as a friend for years. My self-depricating humor and my mocking ways usually endear me to some. However, I can also lose friends in an instant because I can easily get wrapped up in myself. I always thought I was a pretty good only child--meaning that I thought I wasn't very self-centered, but I think I kind of veiled that flaw from myself.

I love to try and solve my friend's problems but I feel intruded upon when someone offers me suggestions about how to fix something in my life...is it because I'm an independent person? Or is it just the fact that I don't want anyone telling me what to do? I'm not sure. And perhaps, am I too an intruder without realizing it?

Isn't it strange that the people who have entered your life in the most random ways affect you and mold you to some extent? I was thinking about the closest friends at different points in my life and what they've given to me and now I want to share that with you.

Nicky Cherry- preschool. She asked me to rip her tooth out of her gums (it was a slight bit wobbly) so that she could "meet the tooth fairy". I pulled it out, causing a gushing of blood and tears but also the excitement of the chance to encounter a fairy. I remember Nicky for two reasons. One, she spelled her name like a boy and two, she moved right after preschool and left my little preschool heart aching for my friend. Sometimes I wonder if we would be friends today? I would honestly put money on it, if I knew where she was.

Josh- my old next door neighbor. Way back when, when nothing but fun mattered he taught me the wonders of discovery. We would take apart radios, mess around with the guts and then reassemble it to the point where it would never work again. Even though as we got older we weren't as close, and now--not close at all, I have vivid memories of all the interesting adventures that we ventured on together.

Tash-my other neighbor. We were rediculous together at times. We shared awkward moments of teenage let down due to bad clothing (breaker jeans), bad hair and our wooden nature around boys our age who didn't live in our neighborhood. Let's just say, we didn't really have a lot of game back then. However, we were truly able to have fun by ourselves. Seriously, that girl can make me cackle over just about anything. We would cackle like two wild hyenas (seriously). And now I'm cute, and Tash--well, let's just say there are very few men that can keep their jaws from dropping to the floor when she walks by. On top of that she's incredibly smart, but quiet about it. I like how unassuming she can be. She rakes in the cash, has a great family and she would never announce it to the world (my big mouth did that for her for a while).

Nik- I met her when we were working at Victoria's Secret during the summer before my senior year at college. There was just something hilarious about her especially when at four in the morning during a horrendous floor set...she's yelling at me for hanging the bras incorrectly! We managed to keep in touch via weekend emails that always said the same thing, "The craziest thing happened to me, can't wait to tell ya!" and then we could never remember what they were all about. She helped get me a job when I was in grad school (ok it was retail but it was badly needed) and she was just so creative. She would buy all sorts of clothing and do weird alterations to them. Half the time, I would've never worn what she had on, but I appreciated her uniqueness.

Cr- I met Cr after my dad died. We were absolute strangers but we both needed someone to talk to and hang out with badly. She was ostracized from her family, and I was back living in my mom's house trying to make the necessary adjustments to feel comfortable in my skin and my new reality. Because she hadn't known me before the accident, she wasn't uncomfortable around me for being furious and raging over the fact that my dad had died. The most important thing about my friendship with Cr is that I know we're both nuts with our idiosyncracies, vices and whatnot but Cr would give me anything if I needed it. This summer she pulled through for me in a way that no one other than my dad would ever do.

And Chelle, don't be feeling badly I'm not excluding you...I enjoy our newfound friendship. We've known each other for our entire lives but now we're finally getting to know each other. Our friendship is just in its first bloom!

So if you wondering what this post is all about, so am I. I'm just thinking about the different parts of me that have been cultivated by these people, all the wonderful things I've shared with them and learned from them. However, with the exception of Cr and Chelle I hardly see any of my friends anymore and I'm wondering what it's all about. Is it my inability to evolve; my love of the moment and my lack of foresight? Or is it just part of the whole process...the ebb and flow of friendship? I'm a don't-knower.
Blame Blogger
I've been trying to post all day and stupid blogger keeps being a bitch and eating all my posts. I will try again later. Just didn't want y'all to think I died!
Sunday, March 13, 2005
There's A New Mister in My Life
Since Mr. Pink has died, I've been subjected to Mr. Orange. Mr. Orange totally sucks. His vibrating potential is weak, he's a bit too thick on the girth, and he has no flexibility. Now when I'm alone I just work manually because I hate Mr. Orange so much, but I refuse to throw him away because he cost me about $70.00. I've often mentioned that Matty likes to incorporate a vibrator in the repetoire almost all the time...which means Mr. Orange and I have been having quite a few intimate encounters as of late. Since it doesn't look like the fun with Matty is ending any time soon I was spurred to go out and purchase a new mister. Thanks to Toys in Babesland , Mr. Purple will be arriving on Tuesday. There's a smile on my face already!

This post was inspired by Avatar's post on masturbation and different "tools of the trade"
Martha Stewart Never Had This Problem
So at the end of this week Cr and I will be hosting a St. Patty's day party and we're trying to get things ready...ok well, Cr's in California right now so I'm trying to not to make much more of a mess than I already have. I am such a slob! It's frightening...even Matty was cleaning up after me the other night.

The finished basement is pretty much always clean and nice because it's the only room I don't really go to on a regular basis. In fact, if it weren't for Matty, I'd rarely go down there. And we wouldn't go down there if it wasn't for that lovely futon. I think my bed is jealous, it rarely sees any action any more.

I thought I'd go downstairs to the bar and check out what was in stock and what was not. And it's a darn good thing I did too. Had I not gone down there ahead of time my guests would've been treated to an empty bottle of "Hustler Lubricant"(don't ever get it...it came free with Mr. Orange and it tastes gross) which was neatly tossed in the corner, a condom wrapper and the weird box that it came in (since it was the weird condom we bought at the bar), a bottle of Mint Chocolate Chip "Tasty Twist" (which is really nice and tingly stuff that Matty seems to absolutely love and sadly I'm running out of), the ugly Mr. Orange lying ever-so-present on the futon and a pair of pink panties behind the futon. Why don't I clean up after myself? I wish I had taken a photo of it before I cleaned it up...it was an interesting little tableau to say the least. Martha Stewart apparently, I am not.
The Party
Well it's official, I have created a monster...but I'll get to that later. Chelle asked me to go with her to her friend from work's party. This would be the friend with whom she shares steamy emails. I agreed to go because, well, you can only go to thitwbar about four times a week before someone organizes an intervention between the bar and myself. Chelle came home from the Erin Express bar tour (which I was feeling a little too under the weather to attend) and we rested a bit, then showered and made ourselves gorgeous.
On our drive to the party Chelle tells me that there were no limitations on the men and that I was "allowed to hook up with anyone I choose". I thank her and then venture into the party to see what the night holds for me. The party was mostly filled with men who were all extremely nice and moderately good looking. Only one stood out to me though--his name was Eric (hey that rhymes with Derek!). The boy who caught my eye was skinny, had shaggy dark hair, a nice nose (I really am a sucker for a nice straight nose--don't ask, we've all agreed that I'm certifiable right?) a brilliant smile with one cute crooked tooth. He also let me wear his Adidas jacket when later in the night my teeth were chattering and I was hiccupping at the same time. Yeah I know Paris, "That's hot!"

Midway through the party Eric and this other guy I think named Keith asked Chelle and I if we wanted to walk down to the bar with them. The party was on a minor lull so we agreed. Little did we know that we'd be walking in zero degree temperatures and down a a huge muddy hill...Actually, I was scared to go down the hill with my heels. I could picture the sliding muddy mess that I would be. My hesitation annoyed the boys, so Keith came back up the hill and threw me over his shoulder and carried me down the hill. We walk into the bar and the big bouncer announces that I cannot go in because I don't have ID with me (I forgot it because who needs ID at a party?). Ok I can understand not being allowed in, it makes me a little sad but fine. I'm drunk, I have the hiccups and I can just go back to the party and drink up. I tell the bartender this and then announce it to my friends. I tell them to stay and that I'll just walk back up the mud hill. I hang my head and turn away. I notice that the bouncer has left his post so I just slip on back around to the bar...all smooth-like...except--the bouncer must've just dropped his cigarette and followed me right back to the bar. I never turned around I just heard Eric say, "Ok, ok we're leaving" as he tucked his freshly purchased beer into his pocket. We made a mass (and quick) exodus. Luckily though, the host of the party (Chelle's email buddy) came to join us and was able to give us a ride back.

We go back to the party and Keith has become a leech. He won't leave Chelle alone. Every time I turn around Keith is up in Chelle's face apparently discussing something very serious. At first, I thought Chelle was into him, and she possibly could've been into him early on in the night but...he just would not go away. He would get pissy with her when she wasn't paying enough attention to him whining things like, "Why don't you like me?" and "I don't think you like me" and "Your rejection is turning me on." (hi worst line ever!!!) Ok, he was too much commitment to deal with for just one party! Within the intervals of time when she could slip away from Keith other party goers said to her, "What's up with you and Scott?" The only problem was that she didn't know which Scott they were talking about because both the host and the roommate's name was Scott. And at this point of the party it was kind of up in the air about which Scott was going to get the "fair lady" Chelle.

The party continued and I had decided that I had had enough beer and that I wanted to sleep so I just curled up on the love seat in the middle of the party, watched a little television on mute and quickly fell asleep. I wake up around 3am, raring to go again...but unfortunately there's no beer left. Most everyone was gone or asleep but Eric, some girl and the host are wide awake too. Eric tells me that I received a text message from my ex boyfriend M at 2:30am that said, "What up?" Eric sent a message back saying, "Not my pants!" We decide that it will be a good idea to watch some porn. Of course, isn't that what everyone does at 3am with people you hardly know? Obviously I do. I inquire about Chelle's wearabouts and I am informed that she's busy having sex with the host's roommate (whom she hooked up with about two years ago before the no sex streak)...see what I mean about creating a monster? She's had more sex in the month of March than she's had in a year and half!

The host crawls up on the love seat with me and attempts to spoon with me. He also mumbles some random porn nothings in my ear. I hear none of it because I'm still focused on Eric. There's still a chance, especially when we're watching the movie so lovingly titled, "The Bitches of XXX" Eric says, "Hey M, let's reinact what we're seeing on the screen."
"Sure," I say,"as soon as these two go to sleep." We repeat this a few times. He says, "Are you a screamer like them M?" I say, "Oh yeah, I'm a screamer, except I'm not a faker like they are..." He volleys back, "Prove it." Those other two don't get the hint and (Eric I think was half joking but I wasn't, and since I wasn't I'm sure we've could've reinacted some porn) so I just continue to watch porn a little pouty. Now had I been more drunk I would've seen nothing wrong with getting down with a virtual stranger in front of two other random strangers, but I had a little bit more class than usual. I think this was due to the fact that I had less alcohol in me than usual.

Let me digress quickly and discuss "The Bitches of XXX" it was a pretty laughable porn with a whole lot of lube (I never really saw a porn where they are busting out lubricant left and right) and what goes best with lube but a ton of anal sex?...More anal sex than I have seen in a long time. It also must've been kind of an old porno because there was absolutely no safe sex...I mean the guy is banging the one girl in the ass and then he switches to the other girl, no condom to be seen--um hi HIV transmission how are you? The best part of the video viewing? Chelle and her little lover heard the moaning and groaning coming from the tv downstairs and Chelle turns to the boy and says, "I think that's my friend M and your roommate!" He looks at her skeptically, and she says, "No really...I've heard her before and that sounds like her." She believes it's me until she hears one of the actresses say, "Fuck me in my ass." Then she doesn't think it's me. Not sure why though. Guess she doesn't think I'd say that...

So the next morning everyone got up early and split from the party...so I didn't get to see the cute boy in his skivvies but I did program my phone number in his phone early on in the night. I didn't tell him I did that though, so it'll be a little surprise for him. I wonder if that would be a creepy surprise or not? I hope not, I was just trying to be funny. Hopefully, since he pulled the text message trick on me we're even. Chelle nonchalantly says about her boy..."if he wants to call me, he'll get my number" and she puts on her sunglasses and drives us home.
Saturday, March 12, 2005
Chelle's Too Lazy To Make Her Own Blog So I Must Write About Her Life
Chelle made it to the Erin Express...here are random snippets from her day (as she drunkenly rambles to me).

There was a man dressed only in a green bathrobe and nothing else.

She walked into the first bar at 9am...there were already thirty people there.

Her morning started with Jaegger bombs.

The only food she consumed today was Orbitz gum.

One of the boys that Chelle likes is this guy named Ed. Ed likes Chelle back but still has a girlfriend. This girlfriend has implants. Chelle says that the doctor should've implanted them in her chest and not in her armpits...

This is direct drunken quote from Chelle, "If you want to fuck me (meaning Ed) don't grab my ass and then introduce me to your ratfaced ugly girlfriend." She ends this statement by saying, "But that door is not closed yet with Ed...I will sleep with him."

Words of Wisdom from Chelle, "If you're going to drink for two days straight, don't stop. Because the hangover is setting in...and I'm getting sleepy."

Chelle also stated that she saw guys in dictator hats everywhere today and that she had to resist the urge not to go up and talk with them because she felt like "she knew them."
The Bathroom Reading Challenge...Jackie Urged Me To Put The Molson Down, So I Did.
Hank came from from a long day at work. He entered his house, took a fireplace stoker from the living room, a fork from the kitchen, and book from the shelf, and $1.15 in change from the couch. He went upstairs, ran a bath, and, a look of mixed joy and horror in his face, threw the everything on the floor by the bath. He then turned off the water, emptied the tub, and left the house.
What’s the backstory?

Hank worked at the post office. It drove him mad that Ed McMahon kept saying that he and everyone else on his block was going to be a winner. The last straw was when he received an envelope that looked quite official. It even had a red stamped message that said, "Confidential Materials Enclosed". Hank grabbed the fireplace stoker from the living room to protect himself. Who knew if someone had seen this envelope. Under no circumstances would Hank hand over this piece of extrodinary good luck! Quickly Hank tore the envelope open and found four pages of little perforated stickers with magazine and CD covers on them. He threw them aside and looked at the letter Mr. McMahon had sent him. "What the fuck?" he stated a bit too matter of factly after reading the letter that told him that although he was under no obligation to buy, it would greatly improve his chances if he did purchase 10 CDs and he would receive the 11th free. Hank had to think about it...was it worth it? Would Ed actually pick him if he chose the right CDs? He had to see how much money he actually had hidden in the home and then he'd sit in the bath and decide what to do.

Leaving the poker in the kitchen, Hank grabbed a fork and moved stealthily into the living room. As Hank hadn't been to a gym since he graduated from high school, the fork was a bit lighter to cart around with him, and it would indeed keep people away from his coveted letter. He moved to the book shelf and grabbed the copy of Paradise Lost. Since it is such a snore of a book, Hank knew that no one would ever look in that book. He opened the book, and there in the cut out pages was $19.00. It wasn't enough. He moved to the sofa and frantically dug in the cushions until he came up with a dollar and fifteen cents (mostly in pennies). "Eddie" he thought, "Here I come!" The big money that McMahon had been taunting him with was finally going to be his. The twenty dollars ensured this because he would buy the Cds that he knew would please McMahon. A little Kenny G, maybe some Wayne Newton and that failed rock CD that Pat Boone made where he was all clad in leather...Hank knew this would please Eddie Mc. Hank sniffed his pits, all this excitement had made him perspire and he certainly felt a wee bit ripe. To the bath.

Fork in one hand, just in case some infidel had seen his specially marked envelope and dreamed of taking it away from him, and twenty dollars and fifteen cents in the other hand, he moved up the stairs to the bathroom. Hank began to draw the water. He liked his water luke warm because it was too typical for people to like either a cold bath or a hot bath. Above all else, Hank was an individual. As he was drawing the water, he peered out of his window...it couldn't be! But it was! The Publisher's Clearing House van was flying down the dirt road. Quickly Hank turned the water off and ran down the stairs.
"What should I do?" he thought to himself? "Should I pretend that I didn't see the van coming? Yes. That's what I'll do." Carefully Hank arranged himself on the couch so that he could see the door but he LOOKED very calm, cool, collect and most of all...he looked nonchalent. "Mr. McMahon will be very pleased with his winner." Hank thought smugly. "Oh no!" Hank wore mismatched socks (for some reason, he thought that it would help him get laid. His hot neighbor Melina said it worked for her...and yet Hank hadn't seen action in years!), he ran upstairs and quickly changed to matching socks. He heard a knock on the door. Oh happy day!

Hank ran downstairs. Calming himself, he walked a bit slower to the door and wiped the grin off his face. It just wouldn't do to be so sure of himself. He opened the door. There were no balloons. Confused he looked at the two men in suits.
"Where is Ed McMahon?" a puzzled Hank enquired.
"Are you Hank Johnson?" one of the men in suits asked, completely disregarding Hank's question.
"Well, yes..." Hank stammered, confused to the core. Perhaps Mr. McMahon didn't actually give out the giant check, perhaps that was just a TV stunt. The silent man in the suit reached into an interior breast pocket of his suit and drew out a large envelope. The man spoke, "Mr Johnson, this is a restraining order. Please stop contacting Mr. McMahon and Publisher's Clearing House you have not won the sweepstakes, nor will you ever. Ed McMahon is not now, nor ever will be your friend." The other suit shook his head in a grim agreement. They turned to leave.
Hank stood in his doorway dumbfounded, what did it all mean? He had seen when McMahon hinted that the next winner could be "you" he knew that McMahon was talking to him. And the confidential documents? What did it all mean?

Hank closed the door and returned to his living room. He sat looking at the stamps that Mr. McMahon had sent him as well as the stack of mail that Publisher's Clearing House had sent him over the course of two weeks. He knew what to do. Hank began arranging and cutting letters so that he had begun something that said, "DeAr ED...WhEN wiLL I sEE yOu agAIN? I Am tHe NExt Big WiNNeR AreN'T I? Tired from the day's letdowns, Hank thought he'd continue the letter later after he had that lukewarm bath.