So no word from John...

Sucks.

Want to email him, but I'm resisting.

The name of the game is waiting.

Bleh, I hate waiting...and I hate games...and I hate all of this.

I got called out on my little myspace blog. I was stupid and I was waiting for John to ask me out again, so I put a little blog up that said, "I'm waiting. Hurry up already." It wasn't addressed to him or anything but I took it down after an hour because I realized how childish it was, but apparently it was too late.

So I got a text message from John a little be later that night, it started out cute but then the last line said, "So you're not a fan of waiting, huh?" and I responded, "Not so much. I think it's a consequence of being an only child. But I suppose I can learn." And he sent one back that said, "Waiting isn't always such a bad thing you know." My reply, " True enough." What I really wanted to say was, "What the hell are we talking about here???" I must say it was one instance where I wished that the two of us liked talking on the phone rather than text messaging.

Now I'm pretending that I'm good at waiting, when in fact, I just want more time to get to know him and I think it's damn ridiculous. I consulted my mom and she thinks he's lost his interest, as she said, "What guy makes a girl wait to hang out with him if he's interested? So I guess I'll be waiting a long time, real long. Sucks.

Next post: The three hour conversation with E about how I don't want to be with him. I even cited the fact that I was interested in getting to know John better, if that folds, I'm fucked.

He sent me a text at 9 am this morning, "Mmm bananas" because he was eating breakfast and he was thinking of me...because I hate bananas.

I think ladies and gents, I moved out of friend mode.

The nice thing about a new year is that you have a clean slate. The bad thing about a new year is that everyone becomes so damn introspective and you realize all the stupid things you did to sabotage your happiness. This is basically what Chelle and I were discussing the other night. She has recently been a convert of Dr. Phil's...now this is a tough pill to swallow, Dr. Phil is annoying. Dr. Phil has a horrible draw, his head is by far too large for this planet and half the time his statements sound more like Ned Flanders than advice. But that aside, he's teaching my friend stuff about relationships and "how to get what you want"...she's thinking about getting wrist bands that say "What would Dr. Phil do?" to remind her not to go home with people, or make out with people that she's not attracted to. If it works, more power to her.

Instead of subscribing to her guru, Dr. Phil...I'm taking the approach of Seinfield and the episode where George does everything opposite and gets everything he wants. I clearly hear the one line in my head, "I'm bald...I live with my parents, and I don't care who knows it!" Ok, so I'm not bald and I don't live with my parents so that's a good start...my point is...I reread all the stupid things I subjected poor (loveable, sweet sweet) Derek to, and well, first I laughed...because damn, I am one funny lady and then I made myself a list of things not to in the pursuit of a man. To you my faithful readers I submit my list:

1. Pursue (as in hunt) the man as if he is exotic game. easy enough
2. Write love letters of any kind while intoxicated...whether these love notes are on coasters or not really has no bearing.
3. Get so intoxicated that you can hardly form words because you get nervous around him and because you want him to drive you home later. The problem here is, you can't take advantage of him when you're being helped to your door because gravity is working against you.
4. Invite a man home for some hot lovin' and then proceed to pass out on the floor while you wait for him to close the bar.
5. Invite him again and do the same thing, again.
6. Tell him that he "should just love me already, everyone else does."
7. Sleep with another man for many many months whilst waiting for my "true love" to figure out that he loves me.
8. Create a blog about this man
9. Obsess, obsess, obsess...and then do it again.
10. and I'm sure there are a million other things too that I'm just blocking out right now...and I don't feel like making a hundred point list!

So now, there may be an opportunity with this new guy. He seems nice, he has roots in the Cornfield but he lives elsewhere. He has a real job-where he has to wear "real" clothes to, but then I also love the duality that he's in a punk band and he's covered in tattoos (that obviously can be all covered when necessary). He went to college, he loves his family, he accepts his sister (who as he puts it, "switched teams this year")...these are all good things.

If the opportunity presents itself, I will not screw this one up. Here are a few things that I plan to do to prevent this:
1. Not drink until oblivion in his presence for a while...somehow when drunk I become very focused on getting laid. While this is a charming quality (ha ha), I plan on hiding it for a little.
2. I'm not going to obsess or pursue with the focus of an exotic game hunter. This one's going to be tough, when I see something I want, I typically go get it.

Those two should probably help me out. But never fear, I'm going to be myself...just maybe not the overly dramatic version of me.

That being said, I wish Myspace wasn't blocked from my work...because I want to check what message he sent me today!

Three emails from him today, not over-eager messages...funny ones, ones that made me notice that he paid attention to what I was saying last night.
Went over to his myspace page (because I'm ridiculous) and noticed that he changed his headline to something that I said last night.

Sent him a message saying where I was going tonight...saw that he read it...hoping he shows up!

Well "Taco Night" was a success. For one, it was great to get out of my little hometown and into the city. T and I braved traffic and made it down there by 6:30. We were a little anxious, as we looked slightly out of place...hmmm, let me see, everyone has black glasses, punk rock outfits or glam rocker outfits on. Pink long sleeve thermal shirt with red stars on it for me? Check. Pink pea coat? Check...look over at T and she's looking equally "cute". Cute doesn't look like it really cuts it with this crowd. But hey, I'm me and she's she...and so we mingled just fine...I still had the urge to rip my shirt off and say, "Look I'm as tattooed up as you are...I just don't have a full sleeve of them!!" But I didn't. I remained cool, and remained myself.

We bellied up to the bar and miraculously, in a completely packed bar, there are two bar stools waiting for us. But these stools were no ordinary stools (oh no!), they were gold glittery vinyl with thick brass studs on it's borders...these stools were like the cadillac of bar stools...the most comfortable thing I've ever had the luck to sit upon. I wanted to steal one and even tried to think of some plausible way, but they were far too plush to put under my shirt!

John showed up and at first it was a little awkward, nervous and tense but within minutes the conversations just flowed, stopping only to take a sip of beer or to munch on a taco. There were only a few awkward moments like when he said, "Hey! You went to a Farm School, what's it like to milk a cow?" and me being a little tipsy stating, "The same as milking..." well you know what I said, and then I realized what came out of my mouth, I turned red and drank more beer. But the cool thing was, he had an equally odd statement that he said, "There, we're even." And we were. I have to say though, I seriously hate drinking at bars that have mirrors behind the bar. I realized that my new shirt made my chest look about twice the size. Some ladies would be happy to hear that and would be jumping through hoops to find out where I got my shirt but I have to say, I thought it looked kind of ridiculous and I was thanking the fact that I was wearing a crew neck and not a V neck because it would've been really, really bad.

T and I decided to leave around nine because we didn't want to be drinking and driving so it was kind of an abrupt end. We walked out into the rain and I started to cross the street, unsure if he wanted to hug me goodbye, and I turned back and hugged him. He said, "I was wondering where you were running off to..." and I giggled replying, "I wasn't sure if you wanted to..." and he said, "Hug? I'd hug you on the first..." and then never said date. Damn! I kind of wanted to know if I was on a date, or if I was just hanging out with a new friend...arrrrggh.


So now the dilemma...after discussing hanging out at his beach (trailer) this summer (he's a surfer, I'm a diver), discussing sharing a three-way...birthday party with him and T (ha ha gotcha didn't I?), and discussing everything else under the sun...I'm left with the question, "Have we become friends?" or will he be calling me to hang out 'fo' reals'?
*Sigh*
It's always a whole lot easier when we just sleep together for me to know where I stand in all of this, and most of all...I have no idea where I stand in this. I think he's a cool guy, not someone I would ever picture that I would be interested in but when I'm talking to him, I like everything I learn about him.

My favorite thing? He hates using the phone and lives by text messages! That's my kind of man.

Keep your fingers crossed for me guys. Tomorrow I'm travelling to the mean streets of Philadelphia to have tacos with a guy I met a couple of weeks ago. And no...there was no sexual innuedo there, we're actually going for tacos. I'm really excited, I've always wanted to go to to Tattooed Mom's for Taco Tuesday and now I am.

So anyways, we met a couple of weeks ago when T, Chelle and I were out. We ended up going to this house party at Hot Ronnie's and then we got split up somehow and Chelle and I had been left behind. It was this guy, John, who was cool enough to come back and pick our drunk asses up. I think I wrote about it already, but anyways, long story short...we hung out until 10:30 am and John has been sending me random texts here and there for the past couple of weeks.

On New Years Eve, we exchanged about five or six texts all day and then he sent one at midnight. Last night, the girls, Ry, and a couple of other friends were over down at the basement bar when I started getting texts around 10:30pm asking what I was doing today. Sadly, I was one of the few people who had to work so I told him that I wasn't available but then I had this great idea...I consulted with T and then sent him a text saying, "T and I are going to Tattooed Mom's for Taco Tuesday, you wanna go?" Within seconds I got a message back saying "Totally! I'm all yours after 6pm!" I sent him a very cool and suave message of, "Cool," gotta keep it low key, even though I'm pretty excited to hang out with him. While I was thinking this and about to verbalize it to T,another message made my phone light up, "So...which one of you will be wearing the pigtails?" With a smile on my lips I typed quickly, "I guess you'll know when you see us, huh?" And as I was trudging up to my bed (knowing that getting up for work was going to be hell as it was, I didn't need to add a hangover to the pain) pouting, while my friends were still hanging out at my basement bar, I received one final message.

"I can't wait to hang out with you."

So we'll see. He seems playful, lighthearted and not trying hard at all. Things are flowing smoothly and with my "Wing woman" (possibly women...Chelle might come too) I think it's going to be more of a hanging out vibe, rather than a "first date"...which is awesome, because I don't know if you noticed, but I have a tendency to turn and run when I suspect that someone likes me. Hmm, I wonder if anyone's coaching him on how to deal with me?? Interesting thought.

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)

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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).