And what's your resolution? Post it in the comments for me to giggle at. And mark my words, I will poke a badger with a spoon this year!

In the year 2006 I resolve to: Poke a badger with a spoon. Get your resolution here

Last night I got married to a punk rock boy...it was a simple ceremony downstairs in my basement. This is what happens when everyone and their mother becomes an ordained minister. We said all the words, we kissed and then my husband said, "So, are we going to "do it" tonight?"

Yes, he truly was heaven sent.


Actually, I do hope I see "my husband" again, he was pretty darn cute...and aside from the few kisses I received there wasn't a whole lot of matrimonial love going on, I'd like to rectify that.
(E wasn't a happy camper last night as he sat in silence on the couch in stormy silence)

This is a conversation that E and I had today...it actually went on a lot longer than this but this is the gist of it...it always goes back to the same thing, you'll see. I was lazy so, I'm the red writing and he's the black (I didn't feel like tagging each one). And the blue is my commentary on his statements. After reading this, do you think he gets it?


baaackk (I got booted from the Internet while we were talking earlier)
hey!
damn mac aol...ick
No, its not. Its this little game we play. I say a few things you log off and laugh log in, chat a bit more and do it over.......you're sick.
you figured me out
yeah I did
Maybe I'll be the one who comes by and drags you out tonight...we can spend some time alone without the elf ("the elf" is T...she's cute and tiny like an elf)
maybe. I want to wait and see...my wallet took a hit this week, and I don't make a lot of money, you know!...the dog and I need this roof over our heads (this dear children is called backpedaling or running away frantically...but E doesn't give in)
well If I drag you out it doesnt mean I'll make u pay
shut up. I pay for my own drinks
I always buy my own drinks...
my dad taught me that
well thats nice and all. Remember when you said something to me about going out awhile back. Like a meal or something. Whats the rules for that? (what crack is he on?? He said something to me about going out for dinner...and then well, you'll see)
that option got taken off the table when you called Chelle remember?
oh fucking Christ!
I apologized for that, which was partly your fault for being difficult. (I love it when I get blamed for him calling another girl....my friend no less!!)
Which I thought was cool because you're like," wow nobody apologizes"
you were forgiven but it doesn't change anything
Thats weird, we can fool around but no meal. (I think he wants to call me a whore here...but he stops short)
no, we fooled around...past tense (oooh harsh line, but a good one...)
You know you're not an elitest like that guy said the other day, but you come off as unaproachable (yes folks some random someone told me that I think I'm better than everyone else...I told him it was a working theory.)
lol I see, I'm just another drunk mistake
unapproachable is good (avoid discussing the hookup...good work me!)
Its not when you kind of dig somebody and they have no clue (oh I have a clue, believe me)
what are you talking about?
...nevermind
and I wouldn't consider it a mistake, it's just not how I should operate/and not how I do operate...I don't want to start hooking up with my friends and making them miserable. (backpedal slowly...slowly...good)

What was wrong with it? I wasn't some douche bag you met that night. Only regret that I had is that we didnt go out(solo) first. I didnt know how to get around to asking you though, its hard to figure you out in that area and it is hard to talk to you alone cause your gay with the Elf. (talking about how T and I talk all night at the bar and ignore other people, and uh...now we're talking about dates?? Why??)

well stop trying to figure me out. there's nothing to figure out. And to be quite honest, I'm much better with the "douche bag that I meet that night"...it's easier (not always true...but I needed him off my back)

oh boy...I'll be next to ***Slut*** soon won't I? (inside joke...about myspace placement in the top 8...I'm his number one, ***slut*** was near me in the top eight, I told him she had to be moved because she was grossing me out, oh and ***slut*** isn't her real name on myspace so don't bother.)

It aint that serious, trying to figure you out was for me. I dont like puttin myself out there. No, its cool, *** slut*** stays where she is. I guess you're talking about random douche bags that you meet in general. (really? you seem serious...you seem really serious...so serious we've been IMing for about an hour now on your day off...hmm.)

Its no biggie. I think its kind of gay you have reservations because of the Chelle thing. Hell I know Im not the first, let alone 3rd choice for you...but I dont hold it against you. And cool, got it, you like randoms in general, that goes along with that whole " I piss people off image"(I like how you use the word "gay" like a high school student, dumbass)

I didn't realize I had the whole I piss people off image...
but I like it
thats what you said last week to me. I didnt want to mess with you because of that (I think he makes stuff up...)
ha ha, well you should've trusted the instincts I suppose
well no harm done right?
No, I told you that before.This is kid stuff (well kid stuff in that you whine and cry like one)
exactly
I think my favorite comment from you today is about not being my 1st or even 3rd choice...ha ha...like you would know.

Yeah well you're all banged up over a few locals, so I know the deal. Besides its not like you were ever forth coming on where I stood on that anyway and Im not allowed to figure anything out. Very true comment I think
banged up on a few locals??? I only liked Derek and he lives elsewhere now...and besides, I believe that was more of an obsession.
nope, I'm not much of a girl to pine for a guy

alrighty. If you dont pine then whats the deal with this random sex is best policy
where did I rate.
since Im wrong about the rating

I didn't rate you.. (skip talking about sex!)

Thats fine M, I wasn't gettin all serious and hoping for like some great relationship. I know you, you're pretty cool, we can drink, hang out, even do the nasty from time to time. If, big if something were to come of it then so be it. Wasnt no need to get scared off. Like I said Im not first or third choice. I play my position and thats that (I don't do the nasty with people who say the phrase, "Do the nasty").

I'm not just pretty cool. I'm REALLY cool
You're ok, dont push it

I'm the bestest
not as cool as say the *** slut***
most awesome
lol right
well the *** slut*** is cooler because she gives beef hearts to the ones she loves
you're right!
yeah thats pretty fucking insane
you think?
anyway so I do or dont rate.
you're my friend
because I was not just a friend, I rated. (um didn't I just say I didn't rate you...whatever that means??)
I quit. I give up, nothings good enough......lol (ohhh singing me Edie Brickel song lyrics...)
haha...truly a good theme song, no?'
yeah it works...I'm downloading it now because it reminds me of you and the Elf.
I gotta go.

"Who's he?" E pokes me in the rib and asks.
"That's Mike," I reply not offering too much info.
"Why did he just stick his tongue out like that at you, and now he's talking to T?" E asks, his hand grazing my thigh.
"I dunno E. The other day he asked T to go home with him and then he asked mea few minutes after that. I think he wants to sleep with the both of us."
E's face clouds over, "The hell he will!"
To goad him I say, "If I want to sleep with T and Mike I'll do it!" (I have no intentions of ever doing this.)
"Why would you want to go home with that douche when you can go home with me," he says placing his hand in the small of my back.
"Space! You said you'd give me my space" I say, wiggling out of my seat and running to the safety of the juke box.
***

E's next moments of exasperation came within minutes of each other--and their names were Hot Ronnie and Favorite Bartender. Hot Ronnie came over and attempted to talk T and myself into coming over to listen to music at his house (at3:00 am on Thursday morning??)...in fact, Hot Ronnie and I even sang a duet at the bar (and no it wasn't karaoke night!) None of this was making E happy,but I think the funniest thing was when Favorite Bartender was showing someonehis tattoos on his chest and being as drunk as he was, he just unbuttoned his entire shirt. T turned to me and said, "He needs to stop that! It's too enticing." I turned to look and I think my tongue fell out of my mouth...FavoriteBartender has an excellent body that I just wasn't aware of before. He propositioned Chelle the other weekend, and now that he's girlfriendless...I think she should take him up on that offer asap.

With T and I drooling in the corner over Favorite Bartender, E decided it was time to pack us up and take us home. Well...that's not totally true. T and I started walking out of thebar and E asked, "Are you two alright to be driving?" (and the answer wasabsolutely not...which was why we were just going to walk home) He shook his head and said, "Get in the car you two." And like drunken idiots we ran giggling to the car. In the car he asked, "How did you two ever make it this far without dying or something?" I shrugged, "I don't know, someone always takes good care of us."
"Well someone needs to...you two attract all the wrong men." Which made T start giggling and pointing out the obvious, "But you like Melina!" and me being the jackass that I am, I started laughing too and said, "Yeah."

E took us to Wawa so that we could eat. We ran around the store grabbing all kinds of food off the shelves and cacklinglike hyenas, he shook his head and said, "Girls! Get your food and get in the car. Now." We tried to hold back the laughs but it was impossible, they tumbled out. I saluted E and T mockingly said, "Ok Dad." He brought us home and again, after I munched on an assortment of foods, he attempted to have a "serious" conversation with me. And of course, it caused me to feel the fight or flight impulse surging within me. I cupped my hand over my mouth and ran past the bathroom, up the stairs to my room yelling, "I think I might get sick." But no, I was just saying that to get to safety.

TodayI woke to a note that said, "Both you and T snore like bears. I checked in on the two of you before I let myself out. Have a good day off and think of me while I'm slaving away at work."

Ugggh.

Well, give the girl a little and she wants a lot. A whole lot.

Because I have off all week I went out with the girls and partied it up. E showed up to hang out with us and well...to talk about our kiss on Friday. He swears that I leaned in first...and he's dead wrong. Yet another example of one of my mental/relationship problems, he definitely likes me, and I really couldn't be bothered until, well, I'm drunk. Yes, I'm well aware how bad that sounds, and I'm well aware of what kind of person that makes me. An icky one. But it's the truth, and I've been nothing but upfront about how I get weirded out if someone expresses too much interest in me.

So last night, E had to drive T and I home after the bar and he came in and sat on the couch with me...T falls asleep and the next thing I know, we're sucking face again. And then, the next thing I know my bra is off...and then my jeans are being unbuttoned. Oh jeez! Well we didn't sleep together (thank goodness) but it was darn close. Ack! T says that my little Christmas rendezvous must've unleashed the lust beast again...I'm starting to believe her. All the control I've been wielding so smugly for the past few months seems to have gone out the freaking window.

It would be ok if E wasn't a friend of mine, and if he hadn't leaned over this morning, brushing the hair off my face and telling me that he was going to call and check on me later in the day. He kissed me chastely on the forehead and then sent me five or six text messages throughout the day (because he knows I hate talking on the phone)...each one adding more guilt and one more nail in my proverbial coffin. The second to last one said, "I'd like to finish what we started last night, give me a chance?" To which I responded, "Back off a little, you're going to scare me away." But that was a lie, I'm already scared and I'm already backing away.

Next victim? Who knows, but I'm going to keep my distance from E .I wish Matty was back in the picture because then there wouldn't be any complications and I wouldn't potentially hurt anyone's feelings.

Well, after a four month hiatus from attempting to get anyone into my bed, heart or life, last night I got someone into my bed. He's T's old roommate from when she lived in the city and he was perfect because we don't see him that often, he's adorable and he was excellent in bed. Score one for me!
How it happened was so incredibly odd...T ended up going home with a long time friend of hers that last night, for some reason, decided to profess love for her and she proceded to profess her own smitteness. So because she wanted to go home with him, Mike had to take me home (he was planning on taking us both home and staying at my house). We came back to my house and started drinking wine...I blame the wine really...actually, I thank the wine. Here's where it gets funny.
I start getting tired. I tell him, "You can sleep in my bed with me because the guest bed is really small." Ha ha, ha...what kind of line is that??? I have six couches in my house and my guest bed isn't that small. So anyways, within minutes we started making out which was my plan...then I went with the rest of it.
This morning was a train wreck though, he was a little out of sorts (he kind of was seeing someone that he said that he was ending things with...) so I think he was feeling guilty, and definitely hungover...and when I saw myself in the mirror, I didn't blame him for wanting to leave! I looked awful. My hair was sticking up every which way, I had bloodshot eyes, mascara under them...it was a true testament for a morning after look. I quickly locked myself in the bathroom and made a quick repair of things--hair in a ponytail, washed the face and put a little visine in my eyes and when I came back out he audibly breathed a sigh of relief. Too funny. He left and I went back to bed, exhausted.

I have to say, that was the best Christmas present I could've given myself...I've been going too long worrying about behaving and acting my age or whatever, but, this is what I do best--and it works for me.

Went out Friday night with T. We started out at the FQB for the Christmas party and then made our way up to thitwbar. Guess who I saw in the flesh?? That's right...Derek. But I chose not to talk to him since he didn't send me an email or anything letting me know that he was coming into town.

I ran into Matty, did a shot with him, flirted with him as soon as I saw his whatever she is walking over towards us with a hellish look on her face and her lips screwed into a little knot. Then I watched him get bitched at by her, it was amusing but I wanted to get back to T, E and his friends. On my walk back I saw Todd, and rather than hear that he's engaged in one breath and hear how he wants to fuck me six ways to Sunday in another, I just pretended that I didn't see him. All of these "reunions" made me want to drink heavily...and so I did. And so did T.

We were both pretty drunk when we decided to invite people to come hang out in the Basement Bar at my house. Only E and his four friends, Tony, T and I went--which was good because there wasn't that much alcohol to be had. Tony poured himself a tall glass of Scotch, T had a beer and for some reason I made myself a nice big tumbler full of champagne and chambord...go figure. Anyways, two seconds later E says that he needs to talk to me upstairs and grabs my hand and takes me upstairs. He asks me, "Are you ever going to kiss me again?" and I replied, "I don't know." The next thing I knew I was making out with him like you did in high school before you've had sex...like a million hours of making out. Although, I think it was only for like 20 minutes, but still. Then later for some reason I let him share my barstool and he proceded to rub my ass (and perpetuating the stereotype). His brother and friends were falling asleep on the couch (it was 5:30am) and so E decided he had to take them home. He whispered in my ear, "I can come back" but I just shook my head no with a smile.

So now today I'm doing damage control. He sent me a text message on Saturday morning saying, "I had a really good time with you on Friday night. Kissing you is fun." I didn't respond. Now today I've been discussing the "meaning" of our makeout session on AIM with him for the past few hours. Merry Christmas everyone! I'm going to lay in the grave I dug the other night. While I attempt to sort out my feelings, I'm sure my mouth will get me in trouble more tonight...going out with T, E and a bunch of people that I haven't seen in a long time.

Chelle was stuck talking to this guy who was so incredibly drunk it was actually sad watching him do shots because of the amount of alcohol that was so needlessly wasted. Chelle made her escape from the bar and I thought that would of rid us of Drunk Man Who Likes To Talk About Fords To Girl Who Could Give A Fuck Less And Drives A Goddamn Neon (at least that would be his Indian name...ahem, his Native American name). So on the jukebox comes "Wake Me Up When September Ends" or whatever the title is. This is the conversation that continued:

Super Drunk Guy (SDG): Damn I hate this song! I can't believe that Green Day is singing about politics now. Punk bands should not sing about politics...so what they hate Bush, why can't they just sing the regular songs?

Me (incredulous): First of all, I really wouldn't say that Green Day is all that punk...maybe once, but no longer. And secondly? Punk bands typically talk about politics in one form or another because they are the alienated and the disenfranchised...(trails off and bites her lip trying to dumb down disenfranchised for the man since his face screwed up like a shar pei)

SDG: No, punk music isn't political. It's just not. Real music doesn't talk about politics.

Me: I don't know why we're having this discussion, didn't you just play the Boot Scoot Boogie on the jukebox?

SDG: Yeah, I did.

Me: Then this conversation about punk is over.

SDG: But I like NOFX

Me: good for you...I don't.

SDG: Wanna go look at my Mustang in the parking lot? I punched it up to five grand tonight (no idea what he was talking about but I was guessing something to do with the tachometer?)

Me: Actually no, I'm going to pass this time...but thanks for the inticing offer.

Every day since I turned 24 and a half I've been writing 24.5 in random places on my body trying to figure out where I would like to get it tattooed and how I was going to go about making it interesting. It's been 4 years and I think I've finally figured it out.

You see, my dad died when he was 49, and I realized that he probably never considered that 24 and a half was his middle age. So 24.5 is my own little version of carpe diem, it reminds me that I need to do all the things that I'm scared to do, all the things I want to do, and try all the things I've ever wanted to try.

So when the cash rolls in, the ink will go on...it's been a long time coming.

I sure did ask some guy who was my age and missing one of his front teeth what he wanted for Christmas. At least he was fun about it and replied, "My two front teeth!" Apparently he had gotten into a fight a few days before and had his tooth knocked out. My repy...I pointed to my right front tooth and said,"Mine's fake too...so don't worry, your tooth could look this good." To which he inquired, "A fight?" and I smiled with chagrin, "No, I fell over drunk and broke it all on my own." He gave me a little squeeze hug and said, "Have a good night girl, I'll talk to you when I have a tooth."

Not quite what Prince Charming would've said, now is it?

Would you rather...

Have mayonaise for hair...or ring bologna for ankles?

Seriously.


The back story for this question is this. I was sitting in college, most likely nursing a hangover or I was still drunk. I remember I was sipping on Orange Mango from Nantucket Nectar which was my cure-all back in those days...well that and all those other illegal things. So anyways, there I was sitting in Women's Issues in Literature...yawn. It could've been an interesting class but it was handled poorly and the people taking the class were your stereotypical militants minus myself and these two seriously divine looking boys--who were best friends.

The second day of class I think they were feeling me out (so to speak) to see if I was there to preach my feelings about how women were treated in 1659 and how literature reflected the misogyny or if I was there to pick up my credits...which I was. Honestly, I took and picked classes in college that I absolutely loved and could get something out of...but this one was a fluke, it wasn't my thing. So cute boy number one leaned over and said, "I have a question for you." and he proceeded to ask me the very question I asked you. We became good friends after this exchange and for the rest of the semester we played a very informal game of "Would you rather..." because the professor ended up falling ill and some stuttering man filled her place and the millitants ripped him to shreds with the vigor of barracudas (oooh barracuda!) daily.

I felt bad for him one day (and I had made a bet with the best friends who were the only fully hetero males ever to be in one of my core lit courses) so I raised my hand. The poor man looked relieved and called on me. I stood up, smoothing my wrinkled party clothes from the night before, and politely inquired," Sir? Do you think you'd prefer ring bologna ankles or mayonaise for hair?" and he smiled and said, "I hate mayo...I'll go with the bologna." To which I replied, "Oh dear, I hope you don't run into any dogs." and with a wink I sauntered myself out of the room, excusing myself from the predictable literary arguments of the day.

Let's play would you rather... since no one else seems to read the blog anymore...NJ, you're up.

...actually I don't want anything this year. It's sad but I'm pretending that Christmas doesn't exist. I had one gift exchange and we were allowed to spend $20, and I spent exactly that...I never do that. If it has a $20 a limit, I'll easily hit the 50 or 60 dollar mark...easily. So broke ass...as I like to call myself spent exactly $20 (as you can see in the post below).

Our gift exchange was so much fun. Jackie's husband cooked us dinner and then headed for the hills (some undisclosed location...possibly a bunker). We stuffed our faces and then guessed our "secret santas"...and then we opened our presents.

I ended up with some skinny sharpie markers (like I asked for on my little email wish list) and an awesome shirt with a picture of Shakespeare and the phrase, "Prose before Hos" which makes perfect sense to me. Obviously, my santa loved me, and got me a pretty cool set of gifts.

Now, onto other pressing matters. I have to talk to a man about an alternator--because mine, dear friends, would like to leave me for the holidays. Bastard!

In about a half hour I'll be over at my friend's house for a gift exchange. Her husband has made us tons of awesome food, I'm bringing champagne and chambord and I heard there are going to be other fabulous items there.

The gift exchange is secondary to hanging out with seven awesome girls...we had to draw names and we were only allowed to spend $20 on each other. I picked my friend Jackie, for the second year in a row. I opted for the gag gift option. I got her a pill sized item that when she puts it under water it turns into a washcloth that says, "Wash away your issues". A bobblehead mouse thingy that you can put a different picture in the face...I of course, put my own photo in there. I also bought her a lovely peony scented candle.

Can I wait for my gift? No I sure can't...it could be interesting, we've added people to the posse that don't know me all that well. I'll let you know when I get back.

It's not often that you're called to duty to drink for 12 hours straight, but Friday night that's just what I was asked to do. A little before six, T, Chelle and I headed down to the FQB for dinner...pulled pork for T and me and a Po' boy for Chelle. Mmm, my god do they have the best food in the entire world. With lots of fabulous food in our bellies we hung out at the FQB for a little (so that T could look at Tony [her ex] a little longer). after T got her fill of Tony (well, at least for a little) we moved up to thithwbar.

There we just acted like idiots, talking in Scottish accents, doing shots, playing Naked Photo Hunt (and critiquing the pictures). At some point while there we ran into Hot Ronnie and Favorite Bartender (Hot Ronnie's roommate), they were about as banged up as we were...well Favorite Bartender might've had us beat by say...15 beers. The boys invited us back and this time Ronnie really was supposed to play for us, since last time we all just ended up wandering around the house rather than have the promised sing-along. At the peak of our drunkeness in walked Tony and his friend John. We chatted with them for awhile and they agreed to go over to Hot Ronnie's too after the bar closed and actually gave us a ride over.

Ronnie did actually play and sing that night, however, not many people focused on Ronnie. This was because Favorite Bartender was sooo messed up. Typically, the most rational and calm one of the group it was surprising to see him do the following things. First, he decided for absolutely no known reason, to toss the barbeque that was sitting on the deck all harmless-like off onto the driveway below...this isn't a low deck, we were quite a ways up. Within seconds, neighbor's lights were going on...people were coming outside and I was running damage control while Favorite Bartender went down to inspect the damage that he had created. Ever had a drunk girl as your spin doctor? No? That's probably a good thing. I'm just going to leave it at that because I'm not even sure what I was saying to the neighbors to allay their fears that the sky was falling. But Favorite Bartender wasn't done, oh no.

We went into the basement and we were all happily listening to Ronnie, albeit Tony was doing it with a sneer...you see Tony's very punk rock and plays in about three punk bands and well Ronnie, plays Jack Johnson. So for some reason T, Tony, Favorite Bartender, John and I ended up out in the garage. Favorite Bartender for some reason decided to throw a gigantic can of paint thinner at the garage wall...you can imagine the stench...and you can imagine that no one, drunk or sober moved to clean it up. We all just went upstairs. Now there was panic. Hot Ronnie was pissed at Favorite Bartender and went to bed. Chelle and I helped clean up the upstairs. T, Tony and John left...Chelle and I were supposed to go with but Chelle wanted to stay and I didn't care either way where we went.

About 20 mins after they left we changed our minds. Everyone was worried about what JB (the boy who actually owns the house that Favorite Bartender and Hot Ronnie live in) was going to do when he got home from work at 3am...and um, JB has a license to carry...ha ha). So Chelle and I make a call to T to see if John will come back and pick us up. He agreed to (with a sigh or two) and there we waited. Picture this, Chelle and I sitting in the dark with the tv as our only light. I'm sitting on the corner of the couch that Favorite Bartender is sleeping on, there's some random boy sitting on the other couch and Chelle is sitting on the floor.

We see a car pull up and we run to it, open the door and it's JB looking at us like we're idiots. Instead of explaining anything, we shut the door and ran right back into his house. Soon after, our ride came. We gratefully hopped in the car and he was sweet enough to swing by my house to let my dog out and Chelle decided at 4am that she had had enough. She stayed in my guest room as I proceeded with John over to Tony's house.

Over at Tony's, T, John, Tony and I proceeded to stay up and talk, drink and bust on each other for hours. I remember finishing my last beer with the sun warming my face...because it was coming up! Finally, at around 9 am John brought T and I home and we crashed our little bodies on the couch, where I remained all of Saturday--because ladies and gentlemen...I'm not 21 anymore, but I sure did party like that.

So, to start. My whole body hurts. Like twist me into a pretzel hurts, that's how I feel-but not in a good way. Why you ask? (Aww so kind...so kind), because I went back to the gym after a hiatus. I love the gym, I'm one of those weird people, however, I joined this gym last year that I absolutely loathe...which causes me to skip out on it...which causes me to complain about becoming mushy...to well, actually becoming a tad bit mushy. Hopefully, we caught it in time and with a proper diet (meaning no more good beer, only lite) and LOTS of exercise, I should be back to normal by mid January. Keep me motivated people, send me pictures of the doughboy, your obese next door neighbor, whomever!! ha ha. I'm really only kidding, 10 lbs and I'll be fine but it's not like I'm rolling down the street (yet). Oh and I'm guessing about the 10 lbs because I don't own (nor can I ever, own a scale).

In other news. I had another Matty run in last night. T and I went to a friend's bday party and then to thitwbar. Matty was there again with Jodie. Matt and I said our hellos and then I went over to my bar stool. E was there too. Now this is where it gets bad...If I had a contents label it would say, "Now with more fat...and evilness." Here's what happened. E likes me...really likes me. We kissed two weeks ago and I've been avoiding being alone with him since then because he wants to "talk" about it--thank goodness it wasn't like last year, because I would've slept with him and we would've had a world summit about it or something. So anyways...

E sits next to me, starts grabbing my arm and doing all kinds of playful flirty things. I see out of the corner of my eye Matty staring at me. Now, a typical girl would feed into this right? They'd flirt with E and casually glance over at Matty...not me. I didn't want to burn my bridges with Matty. I'm hoping to blame this on the shock that Matt's spending every waking moment with Jodie all because she answered the damn phone last Tuesday. When I'm sober, I understand how assinine I was, how stupid he is and how skanky the three of us seem...but when I'm drunk (and this is where I need help), all I'm concerned about is how I'm going to win Matty away from her.

Even though I'm evil and an asshole...and drunk enough to explain myself to E (which I thought might've been worse) he still played me songs on the jukebox that I wanted to hear and he played me and T's "love" song..."Circle" and sang it with us. E's not a bad guy, but I know that he's not the guy for me even when it has absolutely nothing to do with the young Matty esquire. E just tends not to listen to me.

My highlight of the night though might've been when Jodie asked Matty, "Can we leave?" and he said, "Why? We both still have beers." and she replied/nodded at me (even though I did nothing more than say hi to him), "That girl's here." He replied, "M? What are you worried about her for? We've been friends a lot longer than you and I have known each other..." and her response that would've been golden had he not gone home with her, "Yeah that's only one of the things that I'm worried about between you and her."

It's getting a little dangerous how much I'm enjoying discord. It might be really, really bad.

T and I went out to dinner to the local asian restaurant a mixture of Thai, Japanese and Chinese cuisine. Mmmm, it was soo good. I had not planned on going out after dinner and I thought I made that plainly clear with my outfit choice. Let's see, I had my glasses, a navy hoodie on (complete with pawprints on the sleeve that I mostly brushed off on my way out the door), old blue jeans and (gasp, no heels but...) my hot pink addias sneakers. After a delightful dinner...which lasted a total of 27 mins because we were both starving, T sweetly talked me into heading down to the FQB.

The FQB was not a happening place to be last night. However, that didn't stop T and I from laughing *ahem* cackling all night long...so much so, that other patrons made comments about it. To make our evening more exciting I reverted to my childhood and just picked on T all night. Here's a list of some of the things that I did:
1. I wrapped her scarf around her so that she looked either Muslim or a mummy and then took a picture of it. I added the caption "T is a whore." and then sent it to all of our mutual friends. Ha ha, I enjoyed that one. I would like to get it printed and make it my Christmas card.

2. I gave her a wet willy...because I know how much she hates having her ears touched and she said something about me loving Favorite Bartender, and that would've been fine (and typical playground banter) except that Favorite Bartender's girlfriend was there and her little almond eyes narrowed on me and I know that in her mind...I had been engulfed in flames. So T deserved the wet willy.

3. I used the word nipple into my casual conversations with her because I know how much she hates the word and it gives her the chills. Watching her cringe was marvelous. Sheer joy.

4. I made her little coaster notes while she was in the bathroom. Her coaster notes (by no means anything like the love notes written to Derek) went like so:
a. "T is useless" (sounds lame but we were discussing that now that the one boy who liked her doesn't like her anymore, the other boy doesn't seem to either...because he seems to only like girls with girlfriends--thus rendering T useless.)
b. 'The Cigarette Machines Do Not Vend to Idiots" (because she spent about three days putting the same crinkled dollar into the machine)
c. "T causes cancer in children and pets"

and so on and so on...we really had to entertain ourselves. Of course, I entertained T with my bumbling conversations with Favorite Bartender. Any time he came around to chat with us, I said something absolutely ridiculous. It was cause for amusement.

So aside from feeling naseous after Favorite Bartender made me the most horseradishy Bloody Mary of my lifetime, it was a fun laid back night. No cute boys around (aside from Favorite Bartender, who I hear wants to break up with his girlfriend...and in fact, HAS broken up with her a few times but she refuses to leave and then he caves) but it was completely fine--again, T and I had a great time.

Oh...and we found out that the teeny tiny bottle opener fits over my nose. T, actually tested it out on other bar patrons and as it turns out, I'm Cinderella. It doesn't fit over anyone else's nose. I wish I could say that this bar survey occurred because we drank too much but quite frankly, we did not.

There's nothing quite as satifying as drinking pickle juice straight from the jar on the day I finish the last pill in the pack. Obviously, we know what comes next. Oh and is it wrong that I keep the pickle juice long after I finish all the pickles in the jar?? I didn't think so.

Last night I went out with T and Chelle...I know, quite a stretch to the imagination. Of course, I was still feeling a little sick but nowhere near as fluish as the previous days...just not on the top of my game. We met up with E and his brother at the FQB, had some dinner and drinks and then headed up to thitwbar.

Well wouldn't you know that the first person I see in the bar is Matty...and he's not alone, he's with Jodi, my replacement (back in May when I stopped returning his calls he started dating Jodi). Ha! Well I guess I know who did answer the phone on Tuesday night...it wasn't me, so it must've been Jodi. God, I'm glad I didn't fall into that trap again. Although, as always my female jealousy was kicking in...he's so not worth it (the sex sure is though), and yet, I like to get all cavegirl about it and think that he's my property. Although, he hasn't even been on my property or bed since May. Oh well.

Then we ran into Hot Ronnie and his roommate who's our favorite bartender down at the FQB. Favorite Bartender invited us over to their house for a post bar sing along. Who says that the Norman Rockwell era is over? Apparently it's alive and well in the Cornfield. While the rest of America is doing meth and having key parties...we're singing songs while someone plays the acoustic guitar. It was pretty much a drunken blur with a whole lot of walking up stairs and then downstairs...and then freezing my ass off, then playing with somebody's puppy. I vaguely remember Favorite Bartender hand feeding me tuna and me enjoying it...but um, I hate fish. I think I love the Favorite Bartender, that's my only way to wrap my brain around the fish eating incident. I haven't eaten a single fish product (so to speak) since I was seventeen. Too bad Favorite Bartender has a girlfriend and he's damaged because he caught his wife cheating on him (obviously prior to getting a girlfriend). Poor kid. He's 26 but he carries the weight of the world sometimes...plus all the Catholic guilt that his divorce is causing him. His girlfriend seems sweet though...but she wasn't around last night so I just followed him around like a puppy. It seemed to work for me at the time. Today, I'm blushing a little. But no harm done, when I'm sober, I'm not interested in the man in the least.

At around 4am I called E and asked him to come pick us up because I was drunk, tired and wanted my bed...and I won't lie--I wanted a piece of Matty. But I stayed strong...and uh, passed out without giving a second thought to Matty. It wasn't hard what with the fact that gross Jodi was in his bed.

Last night I went out with Chelle and T...everything was fine and then on pitcher number four instead of feeling drunk I felt--well--fluish. But did that stop me? Hells no it did not. I managed to sing songs like um, Circle by Edie Brickel. Now you might not know my musical taste...but it usually involves punk and rock. It really doesn't often involve music like Circle. But I sure did look at T with love (agape love my friends) in my eyes belting out," Youuuuu you're a part of my circle of friends..." and so on. We definitely got more than a few eye rolls from the "perfect girls". You know the perfect girls...they're the girls who are dressed to the nines and their hair has enough product in it to hold steady in gale force winds. All this to go to a local hole in the wall bar on a Thursday--seems kind of silly to me, especially when you take life so seriously. Good lord, they must've really liked it when we decided to sing a horrible rendition of Skid Row's 18 and Life because we decided to relive the 8th grade dance scene! It was so much fun. And if you don't think the barroom sing-along we started sounds like fun then son, you don't know much. (I really just included that last sentence because I wanted to say son...I'm a nerd, yeah).

Other than the random men stopping over to say their hellos to us...we mostly just spent the night making each other laugh. We developed "slut gang signs" (I believe they were Chelle's creation), T had the shocker, I had the time old "V" and tongue look and Chelle threw the old donut hole and finger as well as others), we laughed at my laugh (which is truly a deep, deep cackle) and we did some crazy barstool dance moves. Nights like last night, where I'm dying of the flu but still drinking and laughing with my friends (and infecting as many people as possible--just call me Typhoid Mary) are absolutely priceless. I'm feeling crazy love right now for my buddies...Chelle and T pretty much gave me my ab workout for the week and enough laughs for at least a lifetime. Oh and let me tell you...T and I can belt out "Suspicious Minds" like nobody's business...I'm not exactly sure who played it at the bar BUT we sure did get the woooo's down like it was our job.

Oh and ladies if you're reading this, if I'm not telling the truth, let Chuck Norris smite me with a roundhouse kick to the face!

I really wanted to answer my phone last night...and I had four opportunities to do so. But I guess I really didn't want to answer my phone. Who was on the other end? Matty. Matty, the boy who I kind of let slip out of my life because he wasn't convenient for me...and someone who left because I think he was tired of hearing about Derek.

So why's he calling again?

I kind of got the hint when his last message said, "I'm horny. I know you're probably horny. Let's hang out like old times."

And I kind of wanted to, but I kind of didn't.


(ed. note- It turns out that Chelle was at the same bar as Matty and he kept staring at his phone and "rubbing it like a pet"...as Chelle put it, "you're a wanted animal." But I don't know, I feel like I'm moving forward and that looks like a step back. But it could be a damn fun step back).

Last night I went out to dinner with T down at the FQB and then we decided to stay for a few beers. After the most satisfying meal of my life (mmm chicken tambo...they make it for us special since it's not on the menu anymore), we moved into the bar area and just laughed and chatted talking about her men, and the funny messages that E drunkenly left me on Sunday night when all of them (E, Chelle, T and the rest o' the gang) were out, and I was sleeping responsibly since I had work nice and early in the morning.

Then at around ten my cell chimes that I have a text message. I open my phone and it says Matty's name and his number but nothing else. So I thought,"Huh?" and so I typed, "Huh?" and left it at that. A little after that message I got a text from M asking, "What are you up to?" and I just replied, "Out with T." Something was obviously in the air...wondering what both these boys were looking at or doing that reminded them of me.

I planned to stay in tonight (Friday) because I'm going out to see my old roommates tomorrow and I've got to get up bright and early. Well then Tash called and told me that she, her husband and Ry were all at thitwbar and that she wanted some sober company. See, she's pregnant so now her husband is using her as his official designated driver. So I hopped off the couch, turned off the Sex and the City that I rented (did you know that I never saw any of them? I'm kinda like meh about them) and drove on up to the bar.

The guys were a mess. Like falling down drunk...and when I got there they had about three shots lined up and Car bombs too. Ry was basically falling asleep at the table. Tash's husband was getting hit on by some drunk guy and Tash's husband's friend from home was just skeeving me out...he used to be good looking...now he looks like he doesn't get much human contact.

Well somehow, Tash's husband knocked over a bunch of the glasses that were on the table. Shot glasses went flying off the table and one of the larger glasses shattered. I picked up what I could in the hopes of staying under the radar. No such luck. My favorite young bartender/soon to be bar owner came over looking pissed. Wordless, he stacked the glasses and removed them from the table while Ry kept yelling, "It was Melina...It was Melina." I stammered, "I'm not even drinking! I just got here!" but Bartender just walked away from us looking more than a little pissed. "Thanks guys, thanks a lot! You guys come here once in a while...I have to come here on a daily basis!" I said. And of course, Ry replied, "No, that's your choice." After that though we figured we shouldn't press our luck (as the bar is notorious for banning people for life...my dad was banned) and that we should get the boys out of there.

And that explains how I went to the bar at 10:30 and I was home by 11:31...and why I'm drinking margaritas with my dogs.

You receive the first Christmas card of the season...you open it up...you don't get the CPA joke that goes along with Santa and a bundle of receipts. You turn the envelope over and you realize that the card was for the person who lived in the house before you.

Oh well.

When she sent me a random email out of the blue at work today...

"In Kiss Me I'm Shit faced (Dropkick Murphy's song) when he says, "In the trousers she kissed me and I only bought her one round" do you think he's in his trousers when she kisses him? And what good would just a kiss on the trousers actually do?

I giggled, knowing full well that we talked this little song to death over the past few years...and so simply responded with a "Yes."

I received another email saying, "Dumbo (boy with incredibly big ears and an extremely small head/body) bought me a beer the other night, am I still obligated to kiss him in the trousers?"

And again, I responded with a yes. So Dumbo, if she ever kisses you in the trousers you have me to thank...although I highly doubt she will.

Last night I was tired but I still wanted to go out because Cr was going to be in town and I was supposed to meet up with her at thitwbar. I decided that they only way to deal with this tiredness was to drink ice water all night. It wasn't bad...but it sure was cold. After the newlywed left the bar (Cr) to return to her hubby; T, Chelle and I decided to go to the FQB for open mic night.

We got to the FQB and our favorite bartender was working, open mic wasn't going on because someone sold the amp that was supposed to be used. As soon as we walked in it was apparent that and T's love triangle was there. Her Mr. Holiday man (as I like to refer to him because she always ends up going home with him on major holidays) however, was hanging onto a blonde mohawk chick and so T made up her mind and said, "I'm done," and under her breath I'm sure I heard her say, "For now." The other half of the love triangle was there too. This young gent happens to be Mr. Holiday's best friend ( I guess we can call him The Best Friend from now on) but he's head over heels for T. I've been telling her that she's nuts for not going after him in the first place because a) he doesn't live with his mother b) he has a real job and a degree c) he's sweet d) he's super good looking and e) if he wasn't so fucking hung up on her...I'd take a crack at him. But alas, they sealed the deal last night so he's forever lost to me. Ah well, someone needed to sleep with him because he's too cute not to be slept with!

E walked in last night and came over to our side of the bar and made some small talk with us and then went back to his perch on a barstool next to Best Friend. I had to leave the bar early because I was super tired and I thought if I drank any more water I might burst, so I waddled towards the door. As I'm walking out I see that E is on his cell phone. I get to my car and I feel my cell vibrating that I have a message. I listen to it as I warm my car and wait for the longest train of all time to go by (the FQB is on the right side of the tracks by the way) and it's E. I can't believe it. He called to wish me a good night because I shaded out so quickly. If he calls me when I leave the bar after I kiss him, what would he have done had I slept with him?? Probably flowers delivered to the bar...ha ha.

Oh and Chelle slept with Co-worker again yesterday so everyone got ass but me...although I'm relieved because I fear that E might boil my bunny if I ever know him biblically. A trip out of the Cornfield is seriously needed which is why...I'm heading out to Harrisburg tomorrow to visit with two of my roommates from college. We're getting older but I'm sure we'll be able to tear it up as usual, and we haven't seen each other in almost a year so it's a long time coming!

I can no longer let this go. STOP PICKING YOUR NOSE! and the young man I was talking to had the balls to say, "Who me?" whilst his finger remained lodged in his right nostril apparently diggig for the elusive nasal gold.

Um no. I was talking the other idiot who was fisting his nose in public. He will go far in life, I'm sure of it.

I wrote a fun post and I can see it...but you guys can't. C'mon blogger, make this thing work!

It all starts with number one...

1. I shouldn't have finished off five pitchers of beer with two of my tiny cohorts--T and Chelle.
2. I shouldn't have gotten into a discussion with E about the possibility of us...because that's a messy messy topic...because although I keep telling him there isn't going to be an "us" he ignores me. (He's basically the Melina to my Derek--a scary scary thought)

3. I shouldn't have let E get me drunk enough to kiss me on my stairs.

4. I shouldn't have wiped my mouth off with the back of my hand and make my "grimace" face.

5. I shouldn't have decided that after a sad talk about my deceased father that it would be a good idea to sleep with his prostetic arm like a poke-y stuffed animal (hook+restless sleeper+imbibing heavily=eye pokeage) (PS. If you're wondering why I have his arm, so is my mom...I also have his spare legs too...I can't bear to part with them!)

6. I shouldn't have decided that taking a beer with me to bed because I didn't want to leave a floater was a good idea. I now have a wet bed because I set the beer right next to my pillow and unfortunately I don't have the type of bed that one person can bounce a bowling ball on the one side and a glass of red wine can sit undisturbed on the other. I obviously proved that last night.

7.I shouldn't have gotten up 10 minutes before I was supposed to be at work (even with a 30 second commute...washing my face would've been a good idea)

8. I shouldn't have shrugged and said, "You know what? I think I'm just going to wear jeans to work today...because I'm too late and lazy to iron black pants." (I had to hide in my room all day and avoid higher ups because I would've gotten a talkin' to! Although I must say that I was quite comfy and I should be allowed to wear them all the time because jeans improve my morale).