Once again as I prepare for my night out (Ry where the fuck are you already?? I'm all lipstained up and ready to go!) I'm jamming to the rock countdown on MTV2...some good stuff, some bad stuff, some commercial stuff, some really bad stuff whatever. But I just realized that Eric Roberts is in The Killers' video for Mr. Brightsides and he's also in crazy Mariah Carey's new video (I have no idea what that's called...and that one was on VH1 when I was flipping around while I waited). So Eric Roberts, mediocre actor turned music video star? Hmm, not a bad gig I guess...but what a weird choice. I always thought he looked like he was roughly sculpted in clay and left to dry.

As I prepared to go out tonight with Ry I've learned one very important fact. Lipstain stains fake teeth! Half of my one front tooth is fake due to a drinking accident in my past, and that half is now pink--or more specifically "spank" from Urban Decay. Must go scrub tooth...and then drink.

I'm trying to steer clear of any mopey posts. There's nothing worse than wallowing...at first it feels nice and comfy to wrap yourself up in sadness, self pity and maybe a touch of anger but it never really gets you anywhere. So this is my last mopey post. I stayed in last night to finish out my week of wallowing but now it's time to move on. Although my stupid shuffler on Itunes keeps playing "The Blower's Daughter" and "Ain't No Sunshine"...damn these electronics conspiring against me...oh and the weather, there's just a bit of a chill in the air and a drizzle that is incessant. Ain't no sunshine, indeed. Music lovers out there, do you love Bright Eyes? I sure do. I was listening to the CD Digital Ash in a Digital Urn today and I was struck (as always) by the lyrics of "Take it Easy (Love Nothing).
It's like an autobiographical account of my life in the past. Basically boy sleeps with friend, boy gets burned, boy decides that he's going to practice self-preservation and remain detached from anyone else that he hooks up with. If it wasn't a boy, this would be the story of my life...well except for the fact that I had feelings for Matty, but if I had cut things off at the usual 3-4 months I would've been fine. Now I mope, but I'll be better. But I learned my lesson--being detached isn't the way to go, it just kind of makes you turn into kind of a jerk. It only took a couple of years to learn that.
Go here to hear the song that caused my epiphany this morning as I cleaned (hooray, hangover free!)

or you can just read the lyrics...but the song is good--so go listen to it.

Take it Easy (Love Nothing) ------Bright Eyes
First with your hands, then with your mouth
A downpour of sweat, damp cotton clouds
I was a fool, you were my friend
We made it happen
You took off your clothes, left on the light
You stood there so brave, you used to be shy
Each feature improved, each movement refines
And eyes like a showroom

Now they are spreading out the blankets on the beach
That weatherman is a liar, he said it would be raining
But it is clear and blue as far as I can see
Left by the lamp, right next to the bed
On a cartoon cat pad you scratched with a pen"Everything is as it has always been
This never happened"
"Don't take it so bad, it is nothing you did
It is just once something dies, you can't make it live
You're a beautiful boy, you're a sweet little kid
But I am a woman"
So I laid back down and wrapped myself up in the sheet
And I must have looked like a ghost, because something frightened me

And since then I've been so good at vanishing
Now I do as I please, and I lie through my teeth
Someone might get hurt, but it won't be me
I should probably feel cheap, but I just feel free
And a little bit empty

No it isn't so hard to get close to me
There will be no arguments, we will always agree
And I will try and be kind when I ask you to leave
We will both take it easy
But if you stay too long inside my memory
I will trap you in a song tied to a melody
And I will keep you there so you can't bother me

For Paper Merc...the other half of the two page ad from Bizarro World. Here are the ladies. Notice there is yet another little monkey...and apparently the monkey was the stylist on the set. Here's this pitch, "Ok so we're going to take some girls who have been on the Survivor diet for the past year or so; we're going to put them in ultra high heels in the sand (because uh, that's practical) and we're going to give them the single most ungodly outfits. The baby monkey will be the cuteness factor and will hopefully make people forget about our heinous clothing line that costs like a billion dollars. Who's with me?"
Another great Melina pic

Proof that ad execs have really lost touch with the public. What the fuck is this? Picture that pitch meeting. "Well we're going to need a monkey, and a little kid wearing nut huggers flexing, then we'll have two incredibly pale people carry around this guy like he's dead or something. Oh, and we'll put them on the beach?"
Another great Melina pic

This is how tired I feel...and yet, I have a birthday party to go to soon. I just want to snooze on the couch. I think I should've come home at an earlier hour last night!
Another great Melina pic

So whenever I'm online I see this name in my buddy list that I don't recognize. It's been there for years. One day this person randomly IMs me and asks me how I know him. I tell him that I don't know him. He asks my name and I tell him. He tells me key bits of info about myself like where I went to college, what I look like, who my roommates were, what sorority I was in (yep, I was in a cult!!) etc. And I am suddenly closing my blinds and locking my doors. Freaky. So I ask him, "How do you know all this stuff?" and he responds, "You must've been a slut in college because you took me home from so and so's party, wow you can't even remember? How many people did you take home with you?" So I ask the next logical question (ignoring the slut poke), "Did we sleep together?" He gets a bit huffy and says, "You really don't know, do you?"
At this point I am exasperated and so I respond with, "I wasn't a total slut in college but I certainly wasn't a nun either" (which is kind of a lie because I slept with whomever I chose to in college and I wasn't concerned with what people had to say about me, if the boys could do it--so could I) To this he responds, "Oh I know you weren't a nun, you were a wild girl!" (Ok maybe he does remember me???) He goes on to tell me what he looks like, where we went, what we did and I kind of remember him (how awful is that? I'm blaming it on all the booze in college for the hazy memory). He then told me that the next morning we exchanged email addresses because he was only up at my college for a night visiting his friend.
So all in all it might've been the weirdest event of my life, having some random guy IM me about something that happened over five years ago. Here's a snippet of our conversation so you can see how utterly rediculous it was! And yeah, you can think badly of me--this isn't a very classy story at all...
Melina: so any plans for the weekend?
Random: Not really
Random: Why wanna hang?
Melina: can't...I don't hang with strangers...plus I have plans
Melina : it's my friend's birthday
Random: I'm so not a stranger but ok
Melina: well then who the hell are you?
Random : A guy you want to forget apparently
Melina : I didn't know we slept together.
Random : We hooked up
Melina: well see I didn't know that
Random : Well I dropped enough hints.
Random : Jeez
Melina : I kind of figured from your hints but...who knows?
Random : Told you when and where and you still didn't know
Melina: be kind. my brain is slow today... we had a work happy hour last night
Random: So give me two more names of NOT horrible encounters from college and I'll leave you alone Melina: I'm sorry I really can't remember. I do remember exchanging email addresses with someone, but everything else is a blur...
Melina: what's your first name? seriously, now I feel bad.
Random: No names for me?
Melina: I'm thinking...
Random: First two good memories that come to meind
Random : Mind
Melina: making out in the snow
Random: There was no snow with me but ok
Melina: hooking up against the wall, in an alley
Random: That could have been me
Random: lol , we did that.
Melina: well then there you go...that was hot
Random: Haha what's my name?
Melina: so seriously, what's your first name?
Random: You tell me
Melina: give me a first letter?
Random: P
Melina: Paul?
Random: Yes. Was that a guess?
Melina: yes, but I do remember a paul
Random: Do you remember bringing a paul home?
Melina: not sure.
Melina: but I believe it...I was a wild girl at times like you said in a previous conversation
Random: I know.
Melina: I love how you've been grilling me on IM for like a year about this...it cracks me up Random: haha more like a month
Melina: feels like a year
Random: What can I say? I'm really not a stalker.
Random: Just remembered who you were and all
Melina: I didn't think you were
Melina: I'm a little sorry you have a better memory than I do.
Random: Well ok. Anyway glad you almost kind of remember the night I slept with you.
Melina: I thought we didn't have sex?
Random: We didn't really...but why get all Clinton over it.
Melina: this is true... we 69ed right?
Random: Do you remember that or did you just do that a lot?
Melina: no I remember i think...
Random: ok cool
[ and so the conversation continued...long into the day. I would've said it was just a friend messing with me but after he told me some more stuff, I knew he wasn't lying. So kids...don't give out your email address to just anyone. Oh, and you probably shouldn't have one night stands either--but whatever. I don't judge.]

Female Co-worker: I love that shirt, it's so sparkly.
Me: Thanks, I feel weird though, it's a little big and it keeps falling down a little.
Female Co-worker: That's ok, you've got good boobs...show them off a little.
Me: (grabbing my boobs a little inappropriately) Yeah, other than my eyes these are my favorite body part.
Female Co-worker: Are you wearing a push up bra?
Me: Surprisingly, no. I just have boobs that sit way up high...it'll pay off in the long run I guess.
Female Co-worker: Are you serious? Are you sure you're not wearing a push up bra?
Me: (starting to pull my shirt over my head) Here see?
Female Co-worker: That's ok, I believe you.
Guy who insulted Drk at thitwbar a week ago: I'll check that out!
Me: You sir, most certainly will not!

I should've stayed at the work function longer apparently because I've been told stories of one guy attempting to put his foot behind his ear, boasting about his sexual flexibility and his prowess with women (30 unsuspecting ladies have slept with him...according to him). I did not realize that I was working with Wilt Chamberlin...seriously dude, who gives a flying fuck?

I also missed a riveting game of Never Have I Ever, which I'm quite happy about because I always have to tell embarassing stories--especially about this boy (we'll call him JJ) who asked me to "snowball" him and I did...apparently no one else has ever done this or will ever admit to it because for the past six years I'm the only person who ever takes a drink.

I'm kind of sad I missed it, but in the end I'm completely glad. It's one thing to share your sexual dirt with billions of strangers...it's entirely another to spill it to co-workers.

There are no attractive males that work with me at all...unless you count the two incredibly hot and charming engaged men that were there. Happy hour was fun, but it was no meat market I'll tell you that. Lots, and lots and lots of badly permed women trolled the scene but I think they realized that they were going to come up short as well. After a while I called my friend Monk to come pick me up and take me to thitwbar because I couldn't handle it anymore (hanging with work people) we were all so drunk it was out of hand. So Monk and I went to thitwbar and Chelle met up with us.

At thitwbar they must of recognized the fact that I was completely shit-faced because they put me on "hold". I wasn't allowed to get a drink for about ten minutes...wow that taught me a lessson. Actually I think they didn't let me drink for a while. I ran into Cr's dad who was drunk and missing his daughter...I miss his daughter too. She moved about a half hour away and now we see each other once every other week--I think we're just lazy. But I seriously miss her.

Drk didn't talk to me, I got the nod and the wave and I'm not going to lie...I felt and still feel sad. I completely ruined our friendship, over a t-shirt (well over my crazy text messages...because I thought he was lying) Hopefully, he'll get over this by this summer and we can be friends again. I can see it now, me and Drk skipping down the lane on a warm August night--as friends--I gave up on the rest.

So how do I end this post on a high note? Well, it's 10 am and I'm no longer hung over. I think I'm spending a quality night with my dogs...no boys, no bars...unless someone fun gives me a call.

So this afternoon my work is having a very ritzy affair/happy hour at the local country club so that we can mingle (we don't have work tomorrow--just unproductive meetings, if anyone is worried about my hangover status). I've never been to anything my job has had that involves alcohol--no Christmas parties, no Superbowl things...nothing. I've always thought it best to save my lush life for my private time--but after my horror of a week, I'm going. However, I'm not going to be going all out like I typically do. I wonder if I work with anyone cute?? Hmmm, we shall see. Perhaps a slightly tipsy post will follow this one later tonight.

We also have to keep our fingers crossed for Chelle. She too has a work happy hour thingy and she's hoping that the boy she likes will be there. There is a slight road block there, as she has slept with his best friend in the past--but we're hoping that he can get over that!

If both of our plans crash and burn, we've decided to head over to thitwbar...because well, I haven't been there in two days. And I haven't had a blinding hangover, or witnessed any boys that I've liked on dates lately...it's high time I guess.

Chelle and I were texting back and forth as she was on suicide watch (again, only kidding here folks) but basically she was being a good friend and making sure that I wasn't totally alone.
Chelle: You ok?
Melina: About as ok as you can be after such an emotional ambush. I'll bouce back, I'm the Rubberband Man.
Chelle: Yeah I know.
Melina: J called me last night, this morning and just a few minutes ago but I didn't pick up. I'm scared of anything with a penis right now.
Chelle: Call him back. He's one of the good guys.
Melina: He used to be a drug dealer, he still could be...good guy? Hot maybe, but good?
Chelle: Oh I didn't know about that, well he can hang out with B then. But call him back.
Melina: Ok I will.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------So I called him and he asked if I wanted to go get something to eat with him. I declined politely and then he asked to do something this weekend. To which I had to question who the blonde was at the bar last night. I can't get snowed again like I did by Todd. It turns out that she's J's friend's girlfriend. Well ex-girlfriend. J's friend broke up with her last night. J took her out for a beer. Maybe he is a nice guy.

But I think I could use a little alone time to lick my wounds...so maybe I'll hang out with him, maybe I won't. Not sure yet. Mr. Pink is already getting quite the workout.

Here is your horoscope for Wednesday, April 27:You're willing to tell the world all about it -- about the delightful week you're having, that is. Yes, you're usually the most private of creatures, but at the moment, you're so happy you just can't stop talking about it.

Yep that's me, the most private of all creatures...and if I'm so happy right now, someone please pass me a gun.

I watched Greg Berhrent author of the new "bible of single women" He's Just Not Into You, go here if you've been living under a rock and you haven't heard ladies discussing this book as if it was explaining great revelations. It really doesn't. Today I learned two things that I do wrong according to Greg:
1. I have sex too early into the relationship...or even when I'm not in a relationship.

2. I can't make someone love me or like me. It is not a strong arm kind of event.

Gosh thanks for the newsflash Greg, I feel so much better (that's sarcasm). You've really helped me. I never knew this. I hope you write another book that explains something else really self explanatory--how about the Complete Guide to Belly Button Lint.

My friend Ml has given up on men and after regaling her with my tale of woe from last night she said, "What you need to do is go buy yourself some Indigo Girls CDs, cut off your hair and get some big tattoos (and I apologize to the lesbians of the world...we were just joking around but it is stereotyping) and just become a lesbian." I just nodded morosely, mostly because I hate the Indigo Girls, oh and there's that deal with going down on women--I'm not really into that. So instead of becoming a lesbian I've decided to comfort myself with food...and to become a hermit for about a week. So Banquet Salisbury Steaks and Mashed Potatoes it is...mmm.

Oh and just looked at my phone, at least J loves me...he called me last night and this morning at 7:30. Too little too late. My little heart is broken over Drk. I gave my body up to that lying jerk Todd, and Matty has crushed both my heart and my ego. Oh well. Now I'm watching Oprah (not something I typically do) and watching that guy who wrote He's Just Not That Into You giving me morsels of information that most people should know as common sense...obviously I need to pay a bit more attention.

Ok, this is my final whining about men for a while. Last night I hit rock bottom and it can only go up from here. I would like to blame all of this on Chelle because I invited her out for dinner and she turned it into a Tuesday night bar tour. Who does that when you're not in college? Apparently Chelle, myself and every ex or person I've ever liked in my life. Let me get to my story because I'm probably going to cry again...I don't even know why I've been crying but here goes.

We go to thitwbar after dinner and who walks in and sits across from us? Matty and the girl from Saturday night. Matty and I gave the awkward wave and eventually he and his girl move to a table in the corner of the bar. I checked them out once or twice and I was completely and totally jealous but...I have to say that they seem to be clicking on a level that Matty and I never really did. It only got worse though when I went to the bathroom and Matty's new girl went in and was talking on the phone with her girlfriend about Matt. It went a little like this, "No we haven't really done anything. He called me on Sunday night (remember that's when I called him...well now I know why he had plans) but I didn't call him back. We talked on Monday and now we're out even though he got seven stitches in his thumb today at work." Well, I just slinked out of the bathroom before I heard anything more and mentally wished them luck while the rest of me felt conflicted. Chelle must've seen the shell shocked look on my face and so she suggested that we head to another bar. I agreed.

As we walk into the next bar the first person I see is Todd. His back was to me but I felt creepy not saying hello to him so on my way back from the bathroom I touched his shoulder and said hello. That was it, a simple hello and I went back to my seat. Well, unbeknownst to me, I think his girlfriend (you know the one he supposedly broke up with) was sitting next to him and his friends. After a little discourse, they got up and left. Wow. I felt like an idiot, for numerous reasons. Chelle must've seen the crest fallen look on my face so she suggested that we go back to thitwbar. I agreed.

We went in thitwbar and who should we see? Todd and his friends. They left the bar to get away from me and it looked as if I was following them. I swear, I had no idea. I don't have that kind of craziness in me...it was awful. After two minutes my presence shooed them away again. This time probably for good. Drk was working but I did my best not to make eye contact with him. As miserable as I was, I was making good on my promise to myself to be over him. And it didn't hurt that he never came over to talk to me either. We did give each other a quick wave from across the bar but it was sterile and painful. Actually the whole night was like a hysterectomy without anesthesia.

You'd think that this would be enough right? Wrong. J was also at the bar with a very lovely girl. This didn't really sadden me or depress me because J and I haven't even seen each other in almost two years...we just talk on the phone a lot. He moved back to the Cornfield a month or two ago and I thought I'd be seeing a lot of him but I think I found the reason why I haven't. I truly wasn't miffed about this one, in fact I didn't even try to say hi to him. I just let that one walk out the door.

So that was my night. I was miserable. I had tear filled eyes at the bar. All of my boys (who were never mine obviously) were walking out of the bar with their hands on a girl and then there was me. Drunk. Tired. Sad. Walking out of the bar on the arm of a good friend who was just hoping that I wouldn't try slitting my wrists...at least not on her watch (that is a joke, not serious). I'm not the kind of girl that needs a man to feel complete but it just feels kind of bad to see guys that I liked to varying degrees and levels (friend-wise, sexually, deeper emotions and relationships) finding someone who suits them better than me. It's selfish and I should be happy for them (especially if I ever cared for them) but I'm not ready to take that step yet.

Whew. It's out, I feel a little better. Although I'm planning on going to lay on my couch as soon as I leave work.

With so much around me changing left and right and granted I know I am being melodramatic…it is not cancer, it is not death; so just play along with me! I decided to consult the fortune cookies and see what is in store for me in the near future. As you know fortune cookies are never wrong. Once I even received a cookie that told me quite solemnly that You love Chinese Food Damn! The fortune was spot on! Last night I cracked a few open because I save all my fortune cookies and give them to my dogs as treats so I have billions of them now…waiting to portend the future.

First cookie: You are an exciting and inspiring person. Well hello? C ome on and tell me something I did not know…oh wait, Me--exciting and inspiring? Am I inspiring people to drink? To go out hustling? What am I inspiring people to do? Are people inspired after reading my blog to stay married or something? That is about all the inspiring I think I have done lately. But I must admit, I am verrrry exciting, especially when I talk about Third Watch reruns and pinching my poor dogs on their butts. That is mighty exciting.

Second cookie: One thought driven home is better than three left on base. Hmm, what could that one thought be? Drk does not like you and he never will? This one thought driven home business sucks. I preferred three on the bases myself.

Third cookie: Before the beginning of great brilliance, there must be chaos. This one is actually pretty funny because I kind of remember the obstetrician saying something like this right before I was born…oh and then right afterwards there was great brilliance. No in all seriousness, this is the Nostradamus cookie…apparently all this flux and chaos is going to pay off. Who knew? Gosh, I just love those upbeat fortune cookies…those wise masters of cookie luck.

Fourth cookie and last cookie. The dogs each got two and I got a handful of fortunes to divine with: Now is the time to try something new. Ok. You heard the cookie, so I do not want anyone calling me a whore or a slut when I go out and try someone new-only kidding, you are allowed. And this is the beauty of the fortune cookie…it always tells you what you want to hear. Except for the cookie that was talking about the bases being loaded; whoever heard of a fortune cookie using sports metaphors—that just seems wrong to me!

And now, it is time to create your own fortune…destiny is created not foretold…go here and create a fortune cookie. My cookie says Pirates are not the only ones who want your booty. What does yours say?

Pinball has always been my favorite game and I'm an expert it (ahem, a pinball wizard if you will). While Groundhog's Day has always been one of my most hated movies (sorry fans of said movie). It's a little funny that these two things have something incredibly similar to the state of my love life. I pinball my way back through the same two to three guys and the same thing repeats itself over and over again. I'm mostly ok with that. Emotionally, it's probably not the most healthy thing to do but I've never really sought to change it. On occasion, one of my boys will offer more than I'm willing to deal with (dating wise) and then I push him away and move on to one of the others and then so on. Case in point this month? Matty. Matty acted all lovey dovey and vaguely mentioned the fact that we're both single and what happens? I don't call him back for two weeks. What else do I do? Agree to hang out with Todd, knowing that I'm going to have sex with him and knowing that he's basically a toxic element in my life (but he's a darn cute toxic bugger). And then there's Drk.

Drk is the crux of this site, the heart almost. He's the boy we're all familiar with...numerous pictures and countless stories of fruitless wooing and I'm no closer; in fact, I'm possibly further away from getting Drk to like me--especially since the puzzling flip out over the tee shirt on Saturday. But there's the rub. You can't make someone like you. You either feel it or you don't. And I've known, but refused to believe it, that Drk doesn't feel it. He might have an occasional bout of 'like' for me...but it's never going to go anywhere. I'm not saying I can just cut off my own feelings for him but I'm done pursuing him with a fervor I've seen only in religious zealots. I'm not going to play my little games of ignoring him, which does make him come talk to me. I'm not going to do anything. I will still go to thitwbar, baby steps people. I will have to give him the shirt that I made him, and make a little small talk (actually dreading this part...can I blame it on PMS, please? Just this once?). I will still think about him when I get out Mr. Pink (hey, I'm human!). But, this probably above all else is holding me back. My lust/like/not quite love for Drk allows me to stay in a comfortable holding pattern because, "If he doesn't love you, then he can't hurt you either," at least that's been my motto--for almost three years now. Wow. Time for a change.

Matty hasn't called, I'm ok with that. Not happy (at all) but ok. Maybe he's feeling the same way about me...maybe he needs to find a girl who is emotionally available. Maybe he's just sick of me not calling him back. Maybe he will call...who knows.

Todd called me Saturday to tell me that he was going down to the (ex) girlfriend's house to give back stuff and get his stuff and I haven't heard from him either...but I haven't called him. I'm ok with this as well. In a perfect world, Todd and I would date. He's a cutie, he's so much fun, he's ambitious, he's pretty generous...but he isn't totally truthful and it's not a perfect world.

Drk and I never talk on the phone, I just send him stupid text messages that read like a German trying to translate Spanish into Hebrew. I'm not ok with this, but I'll deal with it.

Now that I'm basically comfort fuck free (scary), I'm not going to say that I'm excited about this prospect but at least I'm going to be open to the idea. And I'm not going to lie and say that I don't have my fingers crossed that Matty will call tonight and that I'm finishing this post to get a shower.

Jealousy is a powerful motivator, that's for sure. I have nothing but time on my hands to sit and think and when I think...Something bad usually comes from it. I decided to call Matty. I did it for several reasons (I think). 1. I wanted to see if he would answer. 2. Even though he went home with another girl (and that's not definite), this is the nature of our "relationship". He has to deal with the fact that I slept with Todd again, and I have to deal with the girl from the bar. Although I have to say that I suffered a couple pangs of jealousy today thinking about him. So sharp these pangs were, that to be honest, I would've considered packing in the plans for seducing Drk and just settle down with Matty. But alas, Matty's a rolling stone, and a rolling stone gathers no moss. So I doubt that I will even entertain that thought longer than this evening. 3. Let's be honest, I could go for a little bit of Matty's magic in the sack. I'm such a fiend, give me sex one day and I spend the rest of my time trying to figure out how I'm going to get more and deciding on who's going to give it to me. 4. I had to extend my olive branch of a phone call because I have a small feeling that I was being taught "a lesson" last night for refusing to return his calls all week long.

So long story short. I call. I get kicked over to voice mail and I just leave him a message saying that I've gotten most of my work done for work tomorrow and that I have nothing but time and a big bed. Well that was about an hour ago and he hasn't called. I hate being taught a lesson. Chelle said that he'll call tomorrow. I'm not too worried about it, whether he calls tomorrow or ever because this jealousy thing has me more than a little spooked. If feelings beyond friendship, camaraderie and lust get involved things could get messy.

This morning I was still stewing over the fact that Drk's shirt was sitting abandoned at Hot Ronnie's house...cast aside like my love. Chelle and Johnny FINALLY came downstairs, after everyone else had already left to go to breakfast. I sat in the living room alone, hopelessly alone...until they came rolling down the stairs. I felt the need to question (read: interrogate) John about how Drk's shirt came to be off his body. At first I was picturing the very attractive goth girl with the bullring and Drk going at it...but apparently this wasn't the case (at least not at Hot Ronnie's house). I am a very scary girl when I'm not on top of my game...and for once, let me say, I'm totally flustered here.
Me: So what was Drk doing when he took his shirt off? (as I squint at John with a mean look in my eye).
John: (backs away from crazy girl) We had a barbecue and he was hot or something. I don't know.
Me: (laughing)
Chelle: What did the hell did that look like? (laughing meanly because well, Drk's getting a little Buddha belly...I don't even know how since he doesn't drink or eat meat. How can you get fat on eating veggies??)
Me: I'll tell you what it probably looked like...fatty, fat, fat...fatty mcfatterson! (as you can see I'm very mature)
John: He was wearing another shirt under that one guys.
Chelle and Me: Ohhhhh.
Me: (laughing some more)

Chelle and I have just come home (yes it's 10 am) and she's spouting crazy talk like "Why do I have to be a woman?" and "I want to fuck him so bad!" (it's badly but I won't tell her right now). So the back story. Chelle called me at like 9:30 last night to see what I was doing as the wedding reception that she was at was coming to an end. We decided to go to thitwbar. Chelle was just a tad bit wasted but looking extremely hot in one of the hottest dresses that I've ever seen. We ran into Monk, Ryan and Vinnie at the bar and fun ensued. Well kind of. I think Chelle had a good time. I, however, hate boys.

Matty came to the bar, he stopped over and say hi to me but we both seemed a little strained in our conversation. I have to say, I thought he was looking mighty hot. Stupid bastard. I call him that because he took some other girl home last night. The girl kind of looked like she wanted to kill me because Matty and I would have sporadic conversations and one of them went like this"
Matty: When I come over next time I'll bring that movie we were talking about.
Melina: Yeah, that's cool. You left your wifebeater and that mix cd we made last time.
Matty: Oh yeah? I'll have to get them! I just bought a ton more of those undershirt thingies...they are the only thing that keeps me going in the summer.
Melina: The only thing?
Matty: Shut up smart ass!
And so our little conversations went. But I'm not sure if I was supposed to compete for his attention with the girl that he was talking to or what but I chose to ignore the situation...that was until they left together. Oh jeez, what is it about my boys this week? But I can't complain because I refused to call him all week...I guess that sent a pretty clear message. Fuck me, I can't win.
When the bar closed we decided to go and hang out with Hot Ronnie, Mikey and Hot Ronnie's roommate John (or Johnny if we want everyone to end with and y or an ie). John is also very hot, actually hotter than Ronnie except Ronnie exudes hot sex appeal. Before we left I took a shot with Drk and suggested that he join us over at Ronnie's when he was done working and he said, "Nah, I never go over there. I'm just going to go to bed I'm tired." Whatever, I'm so sick of him too. Yes folks...I'm at the end of my rope.
So we head over to Ronnie's and it's a good time. Ronnie sang songs, drank some beer and in general, acted like drunken fools. But what to my amazement do my little eyes take in? Drk's shirt that I made for him! My eyes must've widened or something because Ronnie says, "Yeah big D left his shirt here." Um, come again? Drk. The boy who "never goes there" left his shirt at Ronnie's, the shirt I made him? Fuck, my blood was boiling. But apparently my seething wasn't showing because Ronnie hands me the shirt and says, "You guys are tight right? You can give it to him, because I'm sure you guys hang more than he and I do." Yeah, we 'hang' all the time...(that's sarcasm folks) At this point in the night the wisest course of action is to send Drk text messages, which I did. Why? Because I was drunk and pissed at myself for not being better to Matty this week and because Drk (now dubbed the other little bastard) left a really cool shirt that was made for him with love at Ronnie's and because Todd was getting back together with his girlfriend and probably a million other reasons (I don't need sympathy because I've brought it all on myself). My texts went a little something like this (in true drunken, incoherent style):
Big D, I have your shirt. I'll bring it to you one of these days. It's so not cool to leave it behind dude. I thought you never came to Ronnie's. I have totally given up on you. You and everyone else with a penis today. But I have nothing but love 4 the people.

Ok. Fucking drunk ass says what?

Because one retarded message is never enough I had to send a second one to further illustrate my point. It read as such:
Sometimes I think you're really cool and then you go and do this.

Wow, that's so condemning, if only he gave a damn. And anyway, why was I flipping out that Drk accidentally left his shirt somewhere? I'll tell you why, because I was drunk and I was miserable. Luckily, someone was having fun--and that someone was Chelle. Chelle managed to hook up with Johnny. Ohh la la...hot, hot, hot...actually, probably one of the hottest boys in the entire Cornfield. Let's say it together, "Go Chelle, Go Chelle!" Ok, now everyone do the wave. Unfortunately, her stupid period foiled her plans for hot monkey love...but there's always next time. I'm not even sure how this all happened because she's now passed out on my couch with a smile on her face. All I know is that I was spooning with the granddaughter of the owner of thitwbar on the love seat because the floor was so freaking cold and hard. So that was my evening; I spooned a girl, got dissed by my standby fuck, got turned down by Drk (as usual) oh and my $600 digital camera was stolen out of my purse. Excuse me while I go slit my wrists.

On the plus side--I was able to get a good laugh this morning--first over my life's circumstances, Chelle's comments and then over the fact that John drove us home in a creepy white serial killer van. You know 75% of all serial killers drove conversion vans right? (although with the advent of four wheel drive sports utility vehicles I think they probably blend in more with those). There weren't even seats in the back. Basically, I kneeled. We all had a good laugh when I said, "On my knees again and it's not even nine am."

So I'm down, but I'll dust off my knees and get back up again. I hope.

Todd and I have a great ability to call each other out of the blue and ask for certain favors. He was out of my life for three years and now that we both live in the Cornfield (he's a recent transplant) I'm not going to lie and say that it's not convenient, because it sho' is! The deal that I made with him was...I will be happy to have sex with him anytime as long as he's not with his girlfriend (they have an incredibly turbulent/high school relationship). This ensures us both good sex and no one leaves the bedroom feeling used or less powerful than the other and yes, it allows me to stay away from relationships because deep down we all know that I hate to give me heart out...piece of ass, yes. Heart no. This pact of ours has worked out well. Until today that is.

He just called me and said to me that he was on his way over to the (possibly) ex-girlfriend's house right now to decide whether or not if it was over. Hold up...excuse me? Decide? I thought that decision was made already? Isn't that what he told me yesterday? Didn't he say that [insert girlfriend who wears platform tennis shoes with dressy outfits here] wasn't driven, was immature and that he didn't want her moving into his apartment? Didn't he say that he realized that he could never marry this girl and therefore was "cutting them both loose"? Suddenly I'm thinking that my "friend" Todd is a bit of a liar...and I will call him out on it when I see him next. Damn, it almost makes me regret banging (I just love using that euphemism for sex...it makes me picture me slamming his head on the headboard or something) that boy. Almost but not quite.

I never thought I'd say it...but I'm glad that I have ex boyfriends, without them I would've had a sad lonely night. Instead, I had a great night, got laid AND I partied my little ass off until 5:30 am. Let me tell you how this happened.

Todd called me at 7:30 while I was in the tub and left a message a) apologizing for his message the previous night and b) he said he wanted to hang out. I was immediately suspicious because he wants to "hang out" with me as much as I want to hang out with him. Basically, when we "hang out" our clothing is off and bodily fluids are being shared...that's pretty much our friendship level.

I called him back and I'm even more amazed because S is with him. I dated Todd three years ago. Last summer I dated S for about two months...it was hardly dating but whatever. S is crazy. He's a nice guy who probably should never drink and never do another drug in his life. He punctuates every sentence with "Ya know what I'm saying?" That pretty much drove me crazy and made me want to poke out my ear drums. I broke up with S because he called me a whore in my own house...and for no reason, and in front of people. Granted, I knew he was wasted but, I don't deal with that kind of crap.

So I told Todd that I would hang out and that I wanted to go to thitwbar. We go there and the boys are already drunk so I decide to catch up. Todd I can at least have a conversation with but S was already spouting crazy talk. Sweet Cheeks is bartending and smirks when S and I make a deal...basically I said if you make any derogatory comment about me I will kick you in the teeth. At that Sweet Cheeks says, "Slut" and I laugh because I know he's kidding. And then he says, "Drk's band got a last minute gig down at FQB, what are you doing with this clowns, why aren't you with your man?" To which I had to reply that he hadn't called me to tell me. And Sweet Cheeks shrugged and said, "He only found out at five tonight, you should go down." But my escorts weren't having it. The boys were sick of thitwbar and the fact that they had competition because I was talking with everyone that I knew there so they suggested that we go to the other bar in the Cornfield besides FQB. I acquiesced but only after I get to say hello to Hot Ronnie and Mikey. Oh that Mikey, he's full of compliments. He says, "You smell nice, what is that?!?" and before I can answer Hanai Morae (I have no idea how to spell it), he licks my neck! Well, I was basically just pulled out of the bar at that point.

Todd and I dropped S off at one bar and told him that we had to go let my dogs out. In reality, we did let the dogs out but then we decided to head up to my room. Sex with Todd is usually fun because he lets me do what I want. When we were together I appreciated that, but now I just suspect that he's lazy in bed. But maybe he's not, maybe he just lets the girl take charge...I don't know. After all needs were satisfied, we quickly threw our clothes back on and raced over to the bar where we dropped S off at. Drama ensues.

Todd's on again/ off again girlfriend calls him (I don't sleep with him when they are together...I do have rules). She's sitting in his apartment. He gives me a pleading look and says "I have to go deal with this." I shrug and say, "Whatever Todd. I'm used to you being a dick." So he leaves the bar and fifteen minutes later comes back with many apologies and no girlfriend. He asks, "Why weren't you ever psycho?" and I reply with a smile, "Because you weren't worth getting psycho over." He shrugged, and really what else could he do?

After the bars closed. Todd, S and S's co-worker and I decided to head back to my place. We sat at my bar drank, sang some songs and then Todd and I saw a perfect opportunity to head back up to my room for a quickie. Ah quickies! Good times. After that we headed back down to hang out with the boys and I decided it was time for me to sleep so I elegantly passed out on the couch while the boys continued to party into the wee hours of the night.

So last night of course, the Booty Call Queen gets paged, or called, or text messaged...or communicated to in any which way that you can imagine. And like always, I'm already snug as a bug in a rug and I'm not getting up for any kind of sex after I've already been asleep. Ok, I lie...Matty called once and I woke up and got a shower for that. BUT not this time. He called at 11:40pm and I was already asleep, I didn't even hear the phone ring...but believe me, had I? I would've jumped up and answered it...I'm more than a little sex starved, although I can't complain because it's all my own doing. And then Todd also called at 1:00 am "just to talk." His phone message was pretty funny because he was wasted and he was apologizing into the phone about things that happened over three years ago. I guess that he too, was sex starved. But alas, my phone was off for that too...which I can't say is a bad thing. Actually, it's a really good thing.

I should've known it was going to be a weird night when I started receiving text messages from a random number I didn't recognize asking me, "Do you want to fuck?" As I didn't recognize the number I just responded, "It depends on who this is?" and all the person responded with was, "I'm married." So I just replied, "No thanks then and I think you're texting the wrong person because I have no idea who you are." I received (what I thought was) a final message that said, "Ok" except for the rest of the night I received the same "duplicate message" all night "Want to fuck?" and it annoyed me to know that that this moron was wasting all of my texts for the month. Arrrgggh.

Tonight, well that's going to suck too, perhaps worse than wasting all of my texts with some weirdos. I'm in the mood to pick up one of my boys up at the bar. Not a stranger mind you, just one of my old familiar boys that live in my town. Instead it looks like I'm spending most of the weekend home alone. The best my "wingman" aka Chelle can do is hit the tanning bed, the gym and the mall in that order. Which does nothing for my needs. Why doesn't anyone want to go out drinking anymore? Why is everyone getting old? Ry's out of town, Nina's out of the country, Ml's out of town...meh...

Sorry everyone, I'm in a crappy mood. I'm done work in four minutes and the most excitement I'm going to have today is getting skin cancer in a stand up booth for ten minutes. I just might have to walk up to thitwbar myself and attempt to blend in with people so it doesn't look like I'm the pathetic girl at the bar with no friends. But I always talk this game and then I never go because I'm too embarassed to be that girl at the bar with no friends and plenty of drinks in front of her!

Chelle: So are you EVER going to call Matty back?

Melina: Don't know. I guess I should...?

Chelle: Hey, don't call him on my account. I just thought you kind of liked him.

Melina: I do! I do. It's just I don't like making a phone call for sex...it like ordering Chinese or a mail order bride.

Chelle: Uhh yeah that's just what it's like (I'm rolling my eyes at you). But I guess I can see what you're saying.

Melina: The only solution to this is, of course, to go to the bar. I can handle take out.

Chelle: I don't go out during the week anymore remember?

Melina: Oh yeah I do remember that you suck.

Chelle: Well I haven't gotten any complaints.

Melina: Complaints. Right here.

So the other night I heard a snippet of a song while I was watching a rerun of "Third Watch" (yeah, I'm just that scintillating ALL the time) and I fell in love with it. So like any sane person I grab my pen and a piece of paper and write down the lyrics that I can discern. Then I do an Internet search and find out that it's the band The Negro Problem and that this lyricist named Stew is a genius. The song is Burn and if you go here, this guy has a link to a live version of it. Why is it that I'm the last to know? The song gives me goosebumps and now that I purchased the rest of the CD I am in love. Again.

Wouldn't it make a nice goofy "let's dance in my living room" song for myself and Derek? I can see it now...there I am barefoot in my living room, Der's "towering" over me, all 5'6" of him. I'll sing to him in my off key voice. It'll be great, if only the dogs wouldn't jump up on us while we were dancing...oh and if I could lure him here for carnal reasons. Of course the lyrics are bit of a downer and definitely not going in the direction of "our great love affair".

Love the lyrics, simple but great:
Bleed
I don't bleed you
I just need to see you
I would love to turn your vice
And make a silly error twice
She isn't dreamy
She just needs to see me
Drowning in the mainstream flow
And frowning wherever I go
So come down now little one
Leave your place in the sun
I come in bleeding
Stumbling round and needing
I would love to burn your trash
And make a picture with the ash
I come in storming
Before your cloud starts forming
I would love to cut your hair
And leave and empty promise there
So come down now little one
Leave your place in the sun
Start your engine
But don't forget to mention
To your friend that I need work
Don't remind her I'm a jerk
Enter clowning
Enjoy me while I'm downing
Drink tickets and poison herbs
Courtesy of the suburbs
So come down now little one
Leave your place in the sun

I saw it today...I don't know if you've seen Finding Neverland but my boyfriend, um I mean Depp's character says that you can see the exact moment when a boy becomes a man...he gives some sad example and I think I bawled for the rest of the movie on so I really couldn't tell you anything about it...the important part of this post? I saw it.

I know this girl who's about 15 or 16 years old. You can tell that this girl is a Titian beauty...but, (refreshingly) she's not all Brittany Spearsed out. She's an athlete from what I can tell and she typically wears tomboy outfits of Adidas pants, a t-shirt and her long dark red pulled into some haphazard ponytail. She doesn't wear any makeup except maybe a touch of eyeliner. I can't see how boys her age pass her by. She's the "buddy". I feel like screaming at them..."Look at her!"

You remember those stupid movies where the "ugly" girl becomes pretty as soon as she takes off her glasses, puts on some make up, a swanky dress and a new sense of confidence because some guy has taken interest in her? Well that happened today in this story... The tomboy passed by my house today as I was getting ready for work and I did a triple take.

Her hair was down, full and wavy, this auburn shade that no bottle could ever copy with deep veins of golden blond. Her outfit was so her (even though I don't know her). It was edgy but classy...a little punk rock in style, just plain awesome in color choice. She wore light makeup and tiny heels. She held onto her sophisticated strut, she owned this. I heard the boy at the corner say, "Damn [ ] what happened to you last night? I heard her reply, "Nothing happened to me. Put your tongue back in your mouth and don't touch me." And in the moment I saw the girl become a woman. All I can say to her is good luck and congratulations. It looks like she's finding her way just fine.

...Drk, do you know how to read?
Check it:
Here is your horoscope for Tuesday, April 19:Here we go. It's time to stop messing around -- the 'casual' flirting, that is -- and get serious. You're interested, and they are, too -- but you'll never know if you don't get together. So? Ask.

Who knew my techniques were considered "casual flirting"?
Just went up to thitwbar tonight with Cr for dinner (dinner at 9:30 at night...) and I talked to Drk for a few minutes. Do you know how I know that my crush is more than just a crush? His hair is too short and he gained a few too many pounds in the tummy, but even though I took notice--I still thought he looked handsome...especially when I placed my order and he wrote "no crusts" next to my turkey club. The sour faced woman who delivered my meal was not amused when she set my sandwich down. In fact she said, "We don't cut crusts off here." And so I said politely (because one of my "best friends" [Jackie] was once a waitress) "Oh I'm sorry. Drk must've done that, because I didn't ask for it." Then I giggled and said, "He's funny like that." To which she replied, "Funny huh?" as if no one and nothing in her life had ever been funny. She stomped away and I knew that my crustless sandwich put her over the edge.

Sometimes people say that they live vicariously through me. To them I share with them the following: tonight I pinched my dog's butt a billion times and shouted joyously when he turned and looked at me with contempt, "Pinched your butt! Pinched your butt!"

So there. Don't live vicariously through me...not only do I pimp my dogs out in the hot pursuit of Drk but I also sexually harrass them for my amusment.

After first updating my mom about the very slooooowwww seduction of Drk (think a combination of the movie The Last Seduction and A Very Long Engagement except without the seduction or engagement). My mom sighs and says very slowly, "Sometimes it seems like he might like you...and other times I'm sure he just wants to turn and run from you. Don't forget you are a force to be reckoned with. I'm not going to tell you what I'm thinking..." and then she trails off. What she's thinking people is that she wants to be a grandma before she gets old and wrinklely and at this point she will take a bastard grandchild. To cheer her up I tell her about my Monday night booty calls. She instantly perks up and says, "That's my baby! You must have some strong mojo!"
"Mojo, Mom? in my condescending voice. She can hear my sneer.
"Well I can't very well say you're a hot piece of ass! [Middle aged boyfriend's name] is standing right here and he'll think it's weird that we talk this way."
"What way?"
"Like the Gilmore Girls"
"Awwww. Are you coming over to watch it?"
"Do I ever miss it?"
"Later Lorelei."
"See ya soon Rory"
[Ok we're total nerds, but we love each other. In fact, I'm wearing a pink t-shirt that says I [heart] Mom! right now]

LOOK OUT! ïòð

Melina is a radioactive squirrel!!

Two for one Mondays huh? Who knew? What am I referring to? Matty and M's tag team approach to Monday night booty.

Now neither boy knows the other. Matty lives in the Cornfield with me and M doesn't. Matty has a real job, M doesn't. Matty can grow facial hair, M is lucky that he can make it into a bar legally ( I swear I didn't know he was 21 back when I dated him...he looks a bit older). However, with no interaction with each other and not knowing each other...they have the uncanny ability to piggyback their requests. Here's how it played out last night:

9:55pm Matty calls. I don't answer because he hangs up before I decided to pick up...and then I didn't have enough energy to call him back.
10:05 pm Text message from M- "Who ya doing?" Kidding. What's up?
10:10 pm Text back to M- "I'm in bed by myself, going to sleep because I have to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow. But thanks for checking in with me and seeing who I'm sleeping with."
10:11 pm Text from M-"Just checking. I wanted to offer my services!"
10:12 pm Text back to M- "Thanks but I'm beat and I already turned down sex tonight."
10:13 pm Text from M- "Maybe next time. Get some sleep girlie!"

10:30 pm- I obliged him by snoring away (I think).
11:11pm- Me: "huh? what's going on?" Realize that I'm talking to myself in the dark and that my phone must've just hung up because it was still glowing...I grab it, peer at it like a mole in the dark. Matty. I roll over and sleep.

Today: email with Chelle (not exact but a close replication)
Chelle: So fill me in, what's going on with your men?
Melina: Nothing. You know what's going on with Drk--uh nothing, well except for those text messages. Guys suck!
Chelle: Have you talked to Matty?
Melina: No he called last night and so did M.
Chelle: Well that sounds like Matty, always calling on Mondays.
Melina: What's up with that? Is Monday the new Thursday? Or what? I can't start my week off feeling like I'm behind in sleep and you know that Matty makes me stay up for hours...well he doesn't make me but we always end up staying up too late.
Chelle: Yeah, it seems like you have real man problems...geez, poor Matty.

So as I was finishing up my last post my cell phone rings. I know exactly who it is because it's a Monday evening and for some reason, he now calls every Monday evening...he also has a specific ringtone (well specific to all of my booty call boys...). Yes you guessed it, Matty. I looked down at my ripped flannel Pjs and my long sleeve t-shirt which I just threw as an interim outfit before I showered as I roughed it up with the dogs.

And I didn't answer the phone.

I picked it up, was about to flip it open and...he hung up.

What now?

I'm going to hop in the shower just in case he calls back, but I'm just soo tired. Work kicked my ass, my workout kicked my ass...and I can hardly think of getting a piece of ass--with one exception--if Drk were to call right now. But even if he called at 11pm I'd ignore his call tonight. Where the hell was Matty at 2am on Thursday and Friday when I called his tight ass? Booty call synchronization is what is absolutely necessary. Perhaps we will discuss. Perhaps tonight. Perhaps not.

Yesterday the Cornfield experienced some magnificient weather. Such weather apparently makes all of us Fielders want to get out and do something...and apparently driving around aimlessly was what most of the folks chose to do. Not me.

Because I didn't go out carousing for the sheer sake of my liver, and for Drk's sake (how many nights must he put up with me? well let's not answer that, but I decided to give him a night off from my "charms") I did not have a hangover. I woke up the birds were singing and chirping and for once I wasn't looking for a shotgun to blast those babies right out of the tree (you know I'd never do that right?). I decided that it was gardening time. It was time to finally begin sprucing up my yard and get everything spiffy. All my mom said over the phone as I chirped ideas into the phone was, "It's about damn time." You see, I bought my house last year. The house belonged to a man who was very dedicated to his bachelordom (bachelorhood?). Every room in my house is wired for speakers, I have a lovely bar downstairs a fabulous wrap around deck with bench seating built in and a separate pedastal area for grill to be honored and obeyed. Everything unrelated to partying however, has been sorely neglected. First, by the initial owner and then by yours truly. Well, bachelor pad no more. Ok, I can't lie...bachelor pad a little less...I just had to start adding some flowers, curtains...anything that stopped screaming "Hef lives here" or more simply "Hef approves!"

Now massive overhauling of the flower beds needed to be done. I felt that I could not do this alone as I can't find gardening gloves and I definitely wasn't shoving my hands into that wormy gross crap people call dirt. So I did the next best thing. I invited my mom and her boyfriend over to do the gardening WITH me...mmmhhhmm, I oversaw the projects mostly. All projects need a foreman with insight, am I wrong? I'm exaggerating a little bit, but the three of us went to town and really accomplished quite a bit. However, while we were working we noticed something more than just a little disconcerting. My neighbors.

I believe I told you about how my neighbors are weird and spy on me, ask me questions about my daily schedule etc...(go to the archives if you don't believe me), well those same neighbors as well as others behaved as odd as you can get--yet again.

I felt like I was either an exotic wild cat at the zoo that people were waiting to see either eat or mate, or like a circus freak. People kept walking up to my house (in large tour groups) and stood there--staring. My favorite group to take in the sights of me in a sports bar alongside my mom and her middle aged boyfriend was Drk's entire family except him (obviously, because he doesn't live with his parents). So Dad (a biker-ish kind of guy with a really warm smile), Mom (incredibly petite and also very smiley), Drk's sister who has just moved back in with the family, Drk's little tiny neice, their dog that looked like a mop (I had to resist throwing myself on the dog and wrestling it to the ground--it was just that cute!) all stood there expectantly and mooney-eyed. Anyways, Drk's family stood on the side walk in a huddled mass staring at (presumably) at the work (but possibly just at us) my little psuedo family unit had accomplished and seemed to take everything in. But why?

I resisted the urge to walk over to them and say, "Hello my name's Melina and I've been attempting to seduce your son for the past four months." But I didn't. Partially because I was too afraid to get the quick nod of acceptance that would read as, "Yes we know that." However, knowing that Drk is an intensely private person I doubt that he has ever mentioned the fact to his parents that their neighbor is "enthusiastically pursuing him" (I believe criminal law books might read this as stalking). So instead of mentioning anything about Drk I walked down towards them, wiped my hands off on my pant leg and stuck my hand out, "Hi, I'm Melina...I live here" and shrugged a shoulder at the house. Dad pumped my hand quickly and he announced where they lived (yep. already knew that) and who they were (yep, got that down too) and then we stood awkwardly until I had enough common sense to do as the politicians do and play with the baby and the dog. After that, I retreated back toward where my mom and her main man were toiling with rotten railroad ties and it was then that I noticed that the next group of spectators were on the way up the street...
...it's official, I'm a carnie. I'm a midway spectacle. "Come one, come all...watch Melina type out drunken text messages when she can hardly hold up her head." "Witness the woman who will make a total fool of herself just to win a date with the short order cook!" --Ok I need a better barker tagline...let me consult with the Bearded Lady.

These questions were given to me from the sassiest nurse around...check her out. If you'd like to participate in this blog-a-thon question thingamajiggy I would be happy to interview you...but I know people don't enjoy the whole chain letter feel of these things. [shrugging] To each their own, I love answering these things! So here we go.
You seem to be so wonderfully confident and self assured. Tell me about your deepest insecurity about yourself. Hmm, my biggest insecurity. Well it would probably be the whole body image thing especially since I surround myself with all these incredibly gorgeous girls...my friends are not only the coolest chicks around---they are also probably the hottest ladies around. I'm not fat or ugly but sometimes I don't hold a candle to my friends. These insecurities only arise really once a month or when we're all laying out at the beach together...so it's not that often.
Is sex better for women or for men? Please explain.
Better how? Isn't sex like pizza? Even when it's not so good, it's still pretty good, right? I guess guys probably have it a slight bit better because they are guaranteed to get off, but I haven't met too many guys that can have multiple orgasms so--it may be a draw. Also, men can separate emotions from sex so that allows opportunity for more sex--because I think the emotions thing holds some women back (which isn't a bad thing I guess). I don't know if I answered the question but I mulled it over a bit.
Why DRK? Why is he the chosen recipient of your deepest desires and affections? What is it about him that has "hooked" you and spoiled you for all other men?
It all started out with me just being physically attracted to him. Ok, he's short and not a buff guy or anything but there is something so incredibly sexy about him. After talking with him I look at him and see someone I can sit on a porch with in fifty years and we would still have something to talk about. We always have off the wall conversations. I like how he does his own thing and he doesn't appear to care about what people think about him--you know like wanting to be a pirate? Oh and there's not a single person alive who doesn't have a good thing to say about Drk--kindness is pretty hot as well. Why has he spoiled me for all other men? Well I'd be lying if I didn't say that the fact that the chase is pretty enticing as well. He's probably the only guy to not take me up on my offer...again, not trying to sound all full of myself, but it's kind of true. I wouldn't say that he's spoiled me for all other men yet, but he's certainly on his way--he has taken pretty good care of me (in my drunken moments) for just being a "kind-of" friend. We hardly knew each other a couple of months ago...now he won't let me walk two blocks by myself at night and leaves work to drive me home.
If you ever had the chance, would you take a road trip around the US and Canada to meet your blog friends? Who would you visit and what souveniers would you collect along the way?
The road trip idea would be really cool, although maybe a tad bit weird at first. I mean how many friends do you have that knew everything about them before you actually became good friends?? I guess I'd head on down the coast and hang out with the Kickball Superstar, maybe we could get a kickball game in...my only souvenir would be brush burned legs...from sliding into the bases you pervs!! Then I would go down to Florida and visit Gigi and her husband Geoff. Hopefully Gi and I would be able to do a little bonding over pedicures and maybe more than a few drinks. I'd head over "deep in the heart of Texas" to hang out with the Paper Merc. We'd hit up the bars and I'd pretend that I was 21 again. I'm sure I'd drink him under the table and all the hot 21 year old "beckies" would be jealous that his cute ass was hanging out with me. For my souvenir? I'd have to steal a kiss. Then it would be back on the road, making my way up to Sassy, Scoot and NJ. I don't even know what trouble the three of us would get into but I'm sure I'd have to hightail it out of there in time to visit Jackie. After working out together, we'd go out to dinner and Jackie could commentate what the waitresses are thinking about all the customers and then we'd booze it up. Because I don't want to break up her marriage with all our wild carousing I would have to leave after a few days of debauchery. I'd figure a way to weasel in some time with Bryanna and see how she manages to be so freaking beautiful but sweet as well. Maybe we'd trade lipglosses or something. Hopefully, I'd be able to trek it over to NY where I would hang out with BR. I'd trade him some reading material and I would attempt to talk him into pursuing a career in blog review professionally. I would hope that Deanne, Paul and all of my other friends that live on another continent might be able to meet me in NY too (because I'm too poor to fly anywhere right now...plus is flight included in the definition of a road trip??). Somehow, I'd have to go up and hang out with MJ too...we'd drink, talk about books, about the trials and tribulations of being dirt poor due to our student loans...etc. Then I'd come home to my friends Drk, Chelle, Ml, Nina, Ryan in the Cornfield...happy to be home again. And of course, you're all more than welcome to pull up a seat next to me at thitwbar anytime.
What is the meaning of life? The meaning of life in my book is live it. It's to add something to the world, to take only your fair share, to have no regrets, to make make meaningful connections with people to actually connect with them and not to see what you can take from them. Basically beyond all the sex and booze I try to live my life by following the guidelines of this Emerson quote.

So remember the other night when I sent Drk a series of text messages? And remember when I said that perhaps I was able to dodge the embarassment of having sent him these text messages because my phone said that the messages were undeliverable? Well my phone is a lying whore because I just got a text message in response to my three cryptic/drunk texts that basically said, that it was ok that I sent the text messages (my third one to him apologized for the first two) and that it was harmless as long as he didn't go over his text limit--keeping in mind that he's a short order cook and not a rich man. Of course, I blushed reading his message and of course I couldn't be stopped. I sent him one back that said, "If I put you over the limit I'll pay for them. Sorry that I'm such an enamoured drunken jackass." And course, my phone says that it was undeliverable...so on Tuesday he'll get my message and think that I'm a nut yet again. Ah me.

Oh flashback from last night. Ryan didn't hear this or he chose not to remind me of what my mouth said. True interaction (although I wish it wasn't):

M is told by a bar patron who has been following her pusuit of Drk that Drk was DRUNK last Saturday at the bar, and that everyone was amazed--because he very rarely drinks and he hardly ever gets drunk. And people were speculating if I showed up, whether or not we'd hook up. These are people I don't even know...but it's nice of them to care. Because I can never let anything go, I decide to discuss this with Drk.
M: So Drk. I heard that you were wasted last Saturday night.
D: Who told you that?
M: I just heard, that's all.
D: Well I'm over 21, am I not allowed to drink? Do you hold the crown for drunkeness?
M: Actually, yes. Yes I do. Did you want to borrow it?
D: I don't think it would fit over the hat.
M: True. This is true.
(and this is where it goes horribly wrong).
M: Well if I had been here, I sooo would've taken you home. And you would've gone too.
D: (laughing) I would've?
M: [giving Drk a knowing smile and nod] You came over that one night when you were drunk.
D: Yeah but you were passed out.
M: But you called me three times. I'm thinking that someone wanted to have sex with me that night [giving him another knowing look]. You still would like to have sex with me, I'm thinking...
D: Oh really! Have we had sex?
M: No. Not to my knowledge...but that's just because you're a punkass bitch and I'm a drunken moron.
D: I'm a punkass bitch now? [playfully takes my turkey club away from me] well then, get some other non-punk ass bitch to cook your food.
M: [grabbing the turkey club back from him, playfully slapping his hand and leaning in closer] Don't be scared Drk, I'll be gentle the first time...unless you want it a little bit rough [winks at him]
D: We'll just have play it by ear.
M: Did you just agree to have sex with me?
D: You're drunk you won't remember this tomorrow...
M: Oh I'll remember this! [sings to the bar] "my hot cook wants to have sex with me...he wants to bang me...oh yeah, oh yeah... (are you cringing too as you read this??? there were other lyrics too since it went on for about thirty seconds)
D: [shakes head, smiles] My work is done here. I'm going to head back to the kitchen. You need anything else M? Actually don't answer that one.

So tonight I decided to stay in. For a couple of reasons. One, I am officially out of cash until Wednesday...I could easily get people to buy me drinks and whatnot but I hate playing the role of beer whore. I play the role of whore mighty well but...I don't feel like it. Two, after two nights of marathon binging (no purging included) and two days of feeling like absolute hell I thought it might be refreshing to wake up sober...whereas the past two mornings I regretted the fact that I hadn't just gotten it over with and died already.

I have to say that staying in is only for the ugly and the aged. Or for people who like sitting home alone. I apparently am not one of these people. I listened to copy of The Workingman's Dead as I straightened and attempted to tidy up my home (although it was with piss poor effort). I had to switch it up and put in the new Hot, Hot Heat album in because the Dead album just made me want to sit around on the couch with my harmonica. Eventually I did sit down.

I sat down and read a couple chapters of my book Coal Run but I grew bored and tossed it on the floor with a resounding thud. At this the dogs became rowdy, and were pleased as punch to see me home with them on a Saturday night. So happy in fact that they hopped up on the couch with me and one of the bastards punched me in the nose with a paw. Owww. I think I may have a broken nose now. But that's not the only reason why I'm deeming these dogs bastards right now. They are bastards because I returned home last night to see two things that I love very dearly all chewed up! One of the pooches was responsible for eating my Urban Decay lip stain and it's quite possible that that same pooch was responsible for eating my Nars lipgloss in Orgasm; at $22 a pop...you can see why I'm not feeling very charitable to these beasts right now. I felt what I needed was a major and I mean MAJOR shopping bender. If you haven't noticed by now, I'm an all or nothing kind of girl. So I tore the mall up. It's never going to be the same again.

Funded solely by credit cards I do feel a little guilty but that was before I tried the flavored body powder I got from Sephora. Mmm, if only that stupid Matty would give me a call--it tastes fantastic. I highly recommend this stuff. It offers a bit of shimmer, it smells divine and now...my skin tastes like a marshmallow. But it could've tasted like a Gingersnap, Honey (which smelled like old urine to me), Cocoa, Blackberry (which I would' ve purchased had it been there)and many other scents/flavors. If you're curious about it...check it out here. I bought new lipstain, and new lipgloss. I went to the Gap and bought myself a new pair of flared jeans because a girl can never have enough jeans...although I took a count and unofficially I have named myself a jeans glutton. I should be stopped but I just can't. I went to Fossil and bought a lovely pink suede purse with hot, hot rhinestones. I bought lots more, but who really cares?

I decided at this point...after looking at purchases from the other day, and then trying on said purchases that I should just sit and watch some tv. Lucky me, I was just in time to watch Brown Sugar. It's a really dumb movie...but I loved every second of it. Then I had the opportunity to watch "Race o Rama- In race we lust" which covers all aspects of interracial dating in a very tongue in cheek manner. Just watching this show is making me want to go back and find that very hot black man from this morning who told me my ass was "mouth wateringly hot" I'm not sure if "wateringly" is really a word...but hey, I'll take it. Well, I'm going to go back to the show, it's getting hot in here.

At the bar I ran into this guy and he was chatting with my friends and I...and he says, "I taught that kid over there in the kitchen. God, I think he was working here when he was in high school." Stupid guy laughes and then continues, "Well he's still here." Again stupid guy laughs to himself not noticing that I'm glaring at him. Again stupid guy continues, "Geez, when did he graduate?" half asking the question to himself. I took this opportunity to speak, "In 1998." Stupid guy looks over at me with an inquiring look. I shrugged. "I love that kid. Doesn't bother me that he's been working here forever." And then I walked away to find seats at the bar.

I was unable to post yesterday because I was busy on a drinking binge. Oh my God! I went out yesterday with co-workers--and holy shit was I the responsible one. I turn my head for a second and they're ordering shots, nasty ass (strong drinks) drinks etc...and it's three thirty in the afternoon. It's not often when I feel like I'm the one who doesn't have a "problem"! Anyways, we hang out at the first bar for about five hours...rediculously long. I drank Hoegarten all night and I was pretty much on my way to HappyLand...you know, the land where no hangovers exist and there are only cute boys to slut around with? Ok, maybe that's just my HappyLand. I scored my friends and I VIP cards to this bar so that we never have to pay cover again and so I was loved all night. I made it sound a heck of a lot harder to do than it really was. Since I lived here all my life people know me. Especially people who work in bars. So I just walked up to the one bartender and asked him if he'd seen me around lately. He replied that he hadn't and then me being the stuck up bitch that I sometimes can be I asked, "If you want to see me around here more often I need to get in for free. Can I have three VIP cards for myself and my really cute friends over there?" I point to my friends and I kind of pout. I pretty much laid on the thick cheese charm.

After scoring the VIP cards and realizing that it was nine thirty I felt compelled to make the girls head over to thitwbar, because gosh, I hadn't made a total ass of myself there in like thirteen hours! So we go. Of course the first person we see is Drk and he looks like a little tiny bumblebee in his navy blue and yellow striped polo shirt...and it makes me wonder, "Who dresses this kid?" It makes me feel good that there is absolutely no female influence in his wardrobe and that he dresses fairly poorly all on his own.

Drk steps out from behind the kitchen and talks with me and my friends for a little bit, with no mention of any wacko text messages he may or may not have received from some crazy girl the night before (err that would be me). In fact, I may've dodge a very large bullet. My phone indicated that the billion messages that I attempted to send to him were "not delivered due to unspecific reasons". Perhaps that breathalizer that I installed on my phone is finally paying off! (Don't you just wish sometimes). So maybe I dodged my stupidity or maybe the damn text messages will be randomly delivered on Sunday around 6pm, further confusing Drk and just making me look like more of drunk ass. Oh well, it was bound to come out, I am a drunken fool [hanging head in shame].

My one friend who has never been to thitwbar looked around fascinated. Everything was a new experience for her. She spoke blasphemy though when she said, "Everyone always says that this is a shit hole...[then she redeemed herself by saying] but it's not, it's really nice in here." To which my friend ML said, "Well...it's a family bar." A family bar? What the hell is a family bar? Does everyone bring down the whole family and get loaded? Mom, Dad, Susie, Jimmy and the dog Mr. Mophead? No. I knew what she meant. It's a local bar and it's owned by a local family. Albeit, an incredibly rich family now, but a family nonetheless.

These friends of mine were smart--whereas I was really dumb. ML left at around 10:30 because she had a class this morning to go to. My friend Missy left after my friend Nina arrived. I guess they were chaperoning me in shifts. [Don't you think an intervention might be a little more convenient? I jest] Nina brings in a cup of coffee with her. Yeah because that's what you do at a bar right? Drk says, "You're just lucky that you're her friend [and points an elbow at me] and puts her coffee from a styrofoam cup into a real coffee mug. Apparently, the rule from the LCB is that noone can bring any sort of drink (alcoholic or otherwise) into a bar . Why does the bar even have coffee mugs? I feel special because I'm rediculous and any special treatment of any sort makes me happy. No, I think I was elated. Then we ordered food, because when you've been on a bender since 3:30 pm you tend to get drunk and you tend to get hungry. We being the bitches that we are, make our order very specific. In case you don't know, you don't make orders specific at a tiny hole in the wall kind of bar. But we did. Nina ordered a cheeseburger without a bun and I ordered a turkey club without crusts...well because that's what I always order. And I hate crusts. Drk delivered our food to us and smiled saying in his best I'm-a-crusty-old-man voice, "You guys are just lucky that I love you because this order was just short of rediculous". He points at Nina, "You will get a bun the next time. And you missy," pointing at me, "will grow up and eat your crusts. Get over yourselves, I have real customers here." and then he laughed. Actually, I might say that he kind of giggled, but since I'm trying to not slight his manliness, I'll say he laughed. He also handed me the salt because he knows that I like to put salt on my tomatoes. A habit he detests and that he tells me that I'm going to die from. To which I always respond with, "Smoke another cigarette there, Blacklung." I think my sodium habit is probably the least of all my worries. Oh and I smoked three cigarettes last night? WTF? I detest them. Apparently though last night I said [because I'm a charmer] "Smoking cigarettes is like the poor man's high. I can't smoke pot anymore so I will smoke your damn nicotine sticks." Ahhh the logic of drunks.

I don't remember how I got home last night because I was drunk as can be...but the answer to that came to me when my friend Ryan called to check up on me. He showed up at the bar somewhere around 11:30 and when he comes, I'm guaranteed to be an absolute waste of life, because he never takes into account that I'm at least a hundred pounds lighter than him and a good eight inches shorter...he makes me keep his drinking pace with him. He may be responsible for me being three sheets to the wind last night...although, I think the duration of my bar tour might also factor in there. Well according to Ryan, at 12:30, he brought both myself and Nina back to my house because I was muttering incoherently about ripping Drk's clothes off and something about letting my dogs out, perhaps not in that order and perhaps I never said anything about Drk's clothes and Ry's just ribbing me. Well I, in typical stellar host fashion, passed out on my couch while Nina and Ryan talked until four am. Ryan called to tell me that I snore like a wildebeast when I am drunk and that my dogs curled up on the couch next to me to protect me.
I'm just happy that I got home. So then I ask Ryan, "Did I do anything rediculous when Drk was around?" [silent, pregnant pause]
"What do you consider rediculous?"
"Ryan!"
"M, you know it was your typical stuff. You told him that when you two had babies that they were going to be very short and stubby."
"I said they were going to be stubby?"
"That's the exact word you used. But I think you missed the important part. You discussed babies with Drk when he hasn't even kissed you. I think his penis needs to get somewhere near you for him to impregnate you."
"Did he look scared? Did he look like he thought I was going to boil his bunnies?"
"No, he was smiling. I think he knows you well enough to know that you're not crazy in general, just a little nutso about him."
[a bit huffy] "Well I think the stubby bastard should feel honored. I'm quite a catch."
"That's what it says in the bathroom M."
"Fuck you."
"No."
"Bye"
click.

Who made Drk drive her home?
Who purposely got drunk so that Drk had to drive her home, having little to no regard to going to work in the morning (ouch I'm in pain)?
Who smoked two cigarettes? Even though she suffers from severe asthma?
Who made Drk come into her house with the rouse that he should play with her dogs/
Who got frustrated when he only played with her dogs?
Who sent Drk three very drunk text messages explaining why she loves him and then expounding on the idea in further detail in each text message?
Who got no response from said emails?
Who called Matty as a consolation prize at 2:30 am?
Who got no answer and pinkens at the message that she left?
Who woke up this morning tired, with a hangover and nothing else?

Your Inner European is Irish!

Sprited and boisterous! You drink everyone under the table.

Who's" Your Inner European?

I can't believe that I've never written about the fateful day that my eyes first laid eyes on Drk...and then my body wanted to get laid by Drk.

I was out and about in the Cornfield riding my bike, minding my own business when I hear someone heckling me. In fact this someone is saying, "Aren't you a little old to be riding a bike, little girl?" I turned around and glared at this voice, which appeared to be attached to a little boy with a beard. "Aren't you a little young to be sporting a beard?" I retorted a bit haughtily. He rubbed his chin
"Where are you going? It's a dead end down there. Well except for that drug and alcohol counseling place..." and then he grew dead silent.
I realized what connection his tiny mind was making and I quickly said, "Oh no! I'm just riding around. I'm not really going down there."
"Sure, sure" he said, but he didn't sound really convinced. He sounded like he felt terrible for making fun of a heroin addict on a bicycle (which people, I swear I'm not!!)
"No see. I'm going to stand here and talk with you...I don't have to go down there. I was just riding that way because I didn't know what was down there."
So we chatted for a bit and we talked about where we worked...and he said,"You don't look like any _____ [insert profession that doesn't get mentioned on blog here]that I ever met."
"And what does a _____ [insert profession that doesn't get mentioned on blog her] look like?" I inquired.
"I don't know. Haggard, worn out. Ugly."
So I felt good about this so I fished a bit for a compliment, "And I look...?"
"I don't know, not that," he responded, not aiding my fishing expedition one bit.
"And you? Where do you work?"
"At thitwbar. You don't go there much do you?"
"No not really. Actually, hardly ever. But I live down the street from there."
(I vowed to go ASAP)
"Well I gotta get back in there," pointing at a church.
"In there? Why?" also pointing at the church.
"I live there."
"You live in the church?"
"Well it's not quite a chuch anymore. I live here with a band. And this place is an apartment now."
"Oh" I said, and hopped back on my bike and rode away.
I was intrigued by the little man, but I didn't know how far that intrigue was going to carry me.

I asked for some things to write about and KS and BR came through big time...in fact, I'll be using their topics for the future. But right now, before I go to the mall to buy some clothes with ML I think I'll tell you why I live in the Cornfield.

I have never lived in the city. I have never, ever wanted to live in a city. I am a country girl born and bred. Do I have culture? Abso-fucking-lutely. Did my parents take me into cities to see all the sights so that I wouldn't be a country bumpkin? Definitely. But why? Why would any single girl want to stay in her cornfield?

I love the smell of fresh air. I LIKE to milk cows (although I admit, it's been almost ten years since I've done it). I love corn. There is nothing more amazing than seeing the night sky here. It's quiet at night. Some of my friends who come to visit are disconcerted by the fact that they can hear nothing at night. Hearing nothing at night--apparently--takes some getting used to.

When I was little, my friends and I would build massive forts that would take weeks to build in the woods. We would basically live in those forts all summer. Of course, there would be splits in allegiance and therefore there were many Lord of the Flies moments. In fact, I can recall a time when the boys put these other boys in the dry creek bed and peed on them from the banks...I don't remember what it was that they did--but I vowed never to do it (I think I was five at the time). We were all very innocent children (except for the abuse we bestowed on each other). I didn't drink until I was about 17 and that was with my dad. I smoked my first cigarette long after that (unless you count the discarded cigarette that my friend Josh and I puffed on when he was five and I was four--and I'm not a smoker now, just so you know), I didn't kiss anyone (really kiss anyone) until I was 16 and so on and so forth. We were all such good friends-running around in a wild pack of twenty or so kids that it was almost incestual to think of kissing the guys...but obviously, I got over that.

There is an allure to the Cornfield, that makes us want to come back here. I went away to college, a couple of hours away. In the five years that I was gone, I came back for major holidays only. I considered never coming back...in fact I was adamant that I was never going to come back. I didn't think I was going to go to the city or anything but I never assumed that I would be back in the Cornfield. My dad grew up here, and I grew up here...my mom is the only outsider. Most of my friends still live within the area...granted they are branching out more and more because they are starting families and want to live in MORE secluded areas because the Cornfield is starting to be built up, a bit more than most would like it to be. Except the kids.

I remember being 14 and laying in the street in our neighborhood (the only neighborhood for miles upon miles) on one of my friend's stomachs as my pillow and someone else was using my stomach as their's and we all stared up at the sky talking about all the things that we wanted to do with ourselves. None of our plans had to do with the Cornfield, but since I'm still friends with most of them I can't say that any of us failed in our dreams...the Cornfield just kept calling us all back.

(when I get back from the mall, I'm calling Matty and seeing if he's coming over...if he is...sex post tomorrow! if not, I'll have more posts for you later tonight).

This one's for the Paper Merc...since I'm "supposedly having his babies" (according to his website), I figured he should know what color eyes his kid was going to have.
Another great Melina pic

Ok so I'm exciting person with nothing to write about today. I need a muse. I need inspiration. I need KS, NJ and the Paper Merc (hello!?! he's 21!!) all here to rub my shoulders and I need Jackie, Gigi and Jay to throw a few back with me so that I get my mojo back...or something. Actually I need everyone's help, I'm just too lazy to link you all. What should I write about? Any suggestions? Oh and don't worry, I'm calling Matty tonight just so I have something to write about. Expect to see the word "lube" used both early and often!

PS. Funny that sex is now being considered so that I have something to write about. Warped.