Nut up, kid!

You know you're in for an all-nighter when someone plunks down a pill called an "Endurolyte" in front of you and says to take it now. Better than Viagra?

Red Alert

The last couple of guys I've dated have all referred to my hair color as "reddish." Not only due I have to contend with being a closet ginger, but I also might be a closet fire crotch.

Long overdue.

So...the Amicable Ex came to visit. First time since...November. I'm still surprised by his surprise that his pictures aren't up anymore-
Sometimes I feel like I am that girl that is the blantantly obvious fuckwith. What is she still doing seeing this guy that she knows is going nowhere? You read about her and breathe a sigh of relief that you are not as dumb as she is and hung up on a non-commitment guy.
On the other hand, a triple orgasm seems to make up for it.

Dog Training

Have you ever heard of the book, "How to walk a dog"? I am newly convicted of the theory it presents. A man is like a dog. Equally trainable and reacts similarly. Most prominently, treat it like a dog and it will respond with increased attraction and affection. The last 3 guys I have somewhat dated have bored me and I have spent more time ignoring them than adoring them...and they are all about me. The less I call...the more they do. The minute I start responding, they are no longer interested.
For example, I ran into a guy last week and had an intense few days. I quickly realized there was no zing and after hearing his educational history (he never heard mine, I was the only one who thought to ask a question other than, "want a beer?"), realized he may be a loser. So I cut contact and all of a sudden: BANG! Nonstop texts, calls...it's been five days. Today was finally, "I feel like you owe me an explanation. I don't understand what I did wrong. I feel like we really could have had fun together." Ummm....I don't owe you anything- we hung out TWICE. Now, if I could only be so nonchalant about guys I actually care about.

This Never Happens in the Movies

You know when you're making out with someone, and they start to take off your clothes? Well, that's pretty hot - until your pants get stuck on your fat calves and have to be tugged off and almost nail your partner in the face.

le Divorce

Divorced men seem to love me. Perhaps our mutual lack of commitments to our previous partners will make for one complete relationship? Hm.

Hello, BJ!

That was a text I got the other day. Apparently, when someone does you a favor and you say "thank you, what do I owe you," that is the response. Since when did people start giving BJs away like candy at Halloween?

1 am Blackout

So, it's never a good sign when you find random texts on your phone from the night before from a number you don't recognize. Especially when you ask who it is and the reply is "the guy you made out with last night." You're kidding, right? How do I manage to remember the beginning and the end of the evening with complete clarity but blackout for the 1 am makeout session? It doesn't help when your girlfriends are equally confused as to what led the chain of events to occur....I just wish someone would tell me if he was hot or not.

*sigh*

Got carded at a wedding. I was the only person the bartender wanted to see ID from. I guess that means my Pam-skincare regime is working.

FML

Not much here other than I had a date cancel on me via Twitter, and I got my douche bag neighbors evicted. The douche bag neighbors then promptly stole my laundry from the laundry room. Who steals cycling shorts??? GROSS.

Blind Dates

I feel as though the only reason I've resumed dating is to provide stories on this blog. I keep getting set up on blind dates by friends as if my cat didn't provide me with enough solace.

Blind Date #1-
I accidentally (again- I can't say no!) set up two dates on the same night. I went to happy hour with a girlfriend and then headed home, calling Date #1 to reschedule for tonight. I didn't hear from him, so I continued drinking wine alone, assuming that was my night. Only when he called back around 8 is when I realized I might actually be fairly intoxicated. So, of course- that makes an excellent setting for a first date. He doubles my pain by taking me to a karaoke bar and getting me even more plastered. When I drink, ketchup sounds delicious. So I demand he buys me fries so I can consume my favorite condiment. Now, a warning on how I eat ketchup- the Amicable Ex is quoted as saying, "Good thing I already like you, because watching you eat ketchup is extremely unattractive." My own mother won't allow me to eat ketchup if we dine out together. So, you can imagine my surprise when I embarass myself and then he ends up making out with me IN THE BAR. Classy. Oh, and it gets better- we karaoke to "Summer Lovin'" and it wasn't even my idea. And I thought I was an amazing singer that night. I can't believe he actually called the next day.

Blind Date #2-
So, I am excited (to say the least) to go out with a 35 pediatrician that I was set up with by a colleague, who kept emphasizing his "handsomeness." I should learn that middle aged married women have a different definition of handsome. I get to the restaraunt before him and take two steps before I slip in my heels and a waiter galiantly catches me. Great start- they've cut me off before I begin. So, I proceed through an awkward date with a man who could pass for cute, but has terrible teeth. Terrible British teeth without the excuse of being British. They are all I can stare at until I notice how attractive my waiter is. Then I noticed he winked at me...three times. Uhhh? A couple glasses of Chardonnay and I realized he was the waiter who saved me from my fall earlier and he is HOT! As I leave the date with the 100,000 a year man, I leave a note on my napkin for the 25,000 a year man. And he's been calling! Sometimes being a hoe ain't that bad.

Do the Helen Keller

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=giNlgrCQVXk

Happy Fucking Easter!

It seems that holidays are always getting hijacked. The Romans rolled over the Greek gods and holidays and the early Christians added another layer when threw Jesus into the mix. In the former eastern bloc countries, the Communists (or primarily the Russians, I guess) made former religious holidays a bit more worker orientated or allowed them to revert back to their pre-Christian form. An interesting cycle to observe; one that I admittedly know little about, save for my couple years spent living in a small Czech town. I recently resolved to start writing down my stories and have cobbled together a collection of boozy memories, poorly punctuated and misspelled emails and overly analytical journal entries to try and make a more concrete memory of the years I spent as an English teacher in Jičín. Holidays are an easy point of difference and a simple conduit of engaging with the new environment. And the Czech version of Easter blew my mind. Even though most of my students rolled their eyes and called labeled the holiday “old-fashioned” and “stupid,” people still follow the traditions. And I’d never seen Easter quite like this before.

First of all, Easter is celebrated on Monday. In a country where nearly 80% of the populace claims to be atheist, Sunday is only a day of inconvenience when nearly everything – except the pubs - is closed. Easter Monday is the big day and the party, like most things in the Czech Republic (thanks to the Habsburg hangover), starts very early. Men braid willow branches to form a long elegant-looking stick called pomlázka, which is a fancy sounding foreign word for something that is really painful. That’s because the purpose of the pomlázka is to beat the crap out of females to help increase their “fertility.” (A lot of Czech holidays seemed to be concerned with baby-making – but more on those later.) Men would go from house to house, whipping girls’ ankles and legs and the women would reward the men with decorated eggs and shots of vodka or slivovice. The eggs didn’t get a lot attention but the alcohol did and the holiday continued so that by noon most of the men were effectively plastered and that’s when the women would get revenge by throwing water on them. Then everyone sat down to a big dinner to sober up and be ready to work on Tuesday.

My first Easter in the Czech Republic resulted in my vocabulary expanding to such phrases that translated as “my ass hurts” and “Easter hurts me.” The following Tuesday in one of my English classes I hoped to use the holiday as a lesson to get students to do something other than ask me to translate Gwen Stefani lyrics. So I called on Vladimir, a nineteen year old who had issues with high school and English, to tell me about his weekend. As with most student exchanges, it started out with some deep though-processing:

“I…I… at weekend…”

At this point he called for a dictionary, flipped through a couple of pages, found his word and then showed it for his desk mate for approval. She shrugged her shoulders as if to say “go for it,” and Vladimir’s lip started to curve upwards. He started again:

“At weekend, I good holiday. I fuck grandmother. Then make fucking on sister, mother and girlfriend. Very good holiday.”

Satisfied, he folded his arms and sat back in his chair. Midway through the fucking of his family, I pulled a move that would be a signature of my teaching; I moved the textbook over my mouth to try and hide my laughing. Laughing undermined my authority and as a twenty-two year old American in a classroom full of delinquent eighteen and nineteen year old boys, I needed all the courage I could muster. But there was no mistake. I demanded to see the dictionary and the verb about poking or something also translated as “to fuck.” So there you go. Be careful about where and what you get poked with on Easter Monday or you will end up immaculately conceiving. The new millennia could use another holiday to change things up.

Life is hard

I went to Portland Saturday Market yesterday and played a new version of the popular board game "Life." However, I failed to make it very far in "Life" because I kept getting aborted before I could be born and start the game. What does that mean?

Thing 1 and Thing 2

The only redeeming factor about me reentering the dating scene is the material for this blog. It gets better and better. I've also realized that dating can make you an incredibly skilled actress. It's all about pretending like you are fascinated with some story when really, you are just thrilled about eating and drinking for free.

What lesson am I on? Lesson #4?- Don't date 2 guys with the same name. When you think you call Thing #1 and ask if you can meet an hour later for tonight's date, and you've really called Thing #2...trouble can ensue. Thing #2 actually lives 45 minutes away, and for some reason, sounds thrilled to get together tonight, "although he doesn't remember making plans." Oops. I quickly try to back out but he insists Friday night is perfect. I meekly agree and then face the fact I have two dates, at the same time, with the same name. Clusterfucks are my speciality.

I want to go to Tyland!

Last night's St. Paddy's Day festivities involved me running into someone from my high school. I was slightly alarmed that he remembered my name when I only found him vaguely familiar, but didn't think about it too much. After a short, pointless conversation, I faked a bathroom break and rejoined my friends. He then hung on our group until I finally used a friend's husband to pose as my boyfriend. This did not deter high school boy, however, and he asked me if I was in love. Caught off guard, I think I literally snorted out a "no." "Then I still have hope," was his poetic response. I think I may have a stalker. I have no idea how he got my email address and am even more concerned about the subject. CREEPY. Here goes (this is worth cutting and pasting.)

Hey its "High School Boy:.. that guy you met last nite..

I'm sorry if i made things weird in front of your boy friend, if that was your boy friend, i think you were trying to tell me that when we first started talking, or maybe not.. You know even though i was pretty drunk last night... i couldn't really sleep much, i couldn't get over the fact that after all these years i Finally talked to the girl i would always seen jogging in that park.. but life always holds supprises for us all.. it gave me one when i was 17 when my mother died.. and i had to move over to this side of Washington to live with my father that i hadn't seen 10 years before hand.. I've missed out on afew things in life, but i've been very Fortunate.. I've done alot of traveling and seen alot of the world.. I've been to Two islands in Hawii, Spain, Israel, Rome, Tyland (worst trip EVER almost got killed, but i can tell you about that later) and all over the states. My Father is an Air Traffic controler, so I can get plane tickets to next to nothing..

I don't know how your relationship is with your boy Friend is but i'd like to know you Klarinka... all those times i saw you in that park.. i should have said something to you.... last night when we were smoking, it was hard for me not to get lost in those eye's of yours... but at the very least i'd like to just be e-mail buddies with you... its actusually been sometime since i have talked to a women.. i was in a relationship for a very long time.. but she was.. taken from me becasue of her family... and it left me very heart broken... i don't know if you have ever been in love before.. but when your in love for the first time in your life, and you lose that.. its hard to believe that you'll ever.... feel that feeling again.. and it makes other relationships feel pointless...

what kind of music do you like? i like all forms of music myself.... here is a song that i listen to this morning when i was thinkin about ya .. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCZfJ5ai07U
Well.. i hope to hear from you Klarinka..
Bye, "High School Boy"

Men in the morning light.

I have a new favorite: Zumba! It's an aerobic class based on the salsa...after a few awkward beginnings, I was dancing like a Mexican- or at least that's how good I looked next to the 80 year man next to me who explained he was in his dance shoes (and short red shorts) because he slipped around too much last time...

So I've decided I do not like the opposite sex staying in my home. Morning light casts a different look on men, which doesn't help when accompanied with a hangover. Somehow I never felt this grudge with the Amicable Ex...maybe that comes with intimacy, maybe with my own lack of self consicousness around him. Either way, I've decided that if it's not a girl friend in my bed, I only want to wake up to my kitten.

Social Mores

I really hate telling people, "so, I have this infection..." Even though it's my kidneys, I still feel like a dirty pirate hooker.

This is why I don't drink red wine

Because it stains your mouth and teeth purple, and when you are hoping that you look enticing and sexy for a good night kiss, a bright purple ring around your lips does not say "come to me, lover!"  Damn you, my pale Viking ancestors for my fair complexion that does not hide any flaws!

I've got nothin'

Literally. Non-relationship relationship has found God and while that's all well and good, I think that's the death knell for this business.

Note to self: when going to the doctor's office with your purse full of every vitamin you take (you brought all the bottles to show your doctor), be careful when bending down close too counters. Otherwise you might knocked your forehead and almost take yourself out. This is especially dangerous when wearing high heals.

Hot does not mean smart

So, for the last 65 minutes, I have been on the phone with the hottest man I have ever seen in a Starbucks. However, I should have left it at Starbucks. Another lesson learned the hard way: hot does not mean smart. For someone who claims to be a hetrosexual Christian, I have never met anyone who uses more affectations to their voice and quizzes me more about my astrology than a superstitious girlfriend. I thought he just might be nervous, but after launching into moon cycles and their effect on aries, I realized he was just deranged.
This may be just me, but usually the first chat includes small talk such as: weather, movies, bars, traveling, etc. This guy proceeded to GRILL me about past relationships, what I was looking for, how I act in a relationship (doesn't at least a date and a drink come before this talk?) ...and then was disappointed by my "vague politically correct answers." I was frightened. Remind me not to make small talk while waiting for my soy chai...no matter what muscles are before me.

Spilt Milk

I think I'm experiencing withdrawls. I am going through a 2 week cleanse to better myself and that involves no drinking. Also, I've been abstaining from boys since to be honest- I'm having a hard time finding anyone who gives me the zing. And I must have the zing. So, I'm realizing that I may have a preoccupation with denying myself these things because the last 3 nights my dreams have involved wine and sex. Hmmm...what is on my subconscious? Two things my body craves and is not getting.
Plus, I am frustrated with the amicable ex who drunk dials me Friday night (I'm cleansing, so I'm sober) and proceeds to lecture me about how he can't believe I drunk dialed him last Sunday and can't remember what I said. Does this spell irony to anyone else? We broke up- I don't feel like I need to listen to his lectures anymore. Especially this awe inspiring one where he starts going on about marriage but that I'm too fucked up to marry because my life is drama. Wow. He even starts going off on me for my lastest car crash...which wasn't my fault. A middle aged space cadet rear ended me at a stoplight. But because it's me and I chose to laugh about it when I retold the story to him (I don't see the point in crying over spilt milk- especially since mine is always spilling) that there is obviously something wrong with me. Why am I putting up with this? Just stop when you're ahead buddy. I chose to not answer my 2 am phone calls late Saturday night...haven't heard from him since.

It's come to this

I'm going to a self-massage class tonight. Desperate times call for desperate measures: I'm paying to rub myself in front of a group of people.

Skillz

I don't have any, which is obvious to most of my past boyfriends. In my head, doing things like pulling someone's underwear off with your teeth or trying to hook your leg around them is - in theory - sexy. In reality, accidental biting and scrotum kneeing happens. So it's clear I don't have skills.

But when I've been drinking, this all makes sense. And so when the non-relationship relationship dropped me off last night after a night of Mardi Gras fun, I was ready. I had showered, I had washed my hair, I had put on both mascara and deodorant, and I was drunkity drunk drunk. Like I said, I was ready. Stopping the car, I made what I thought was a seductive face (in reality it was probably a weird squint), and said something bland like "goodnight." We hugged and while hugging, he pulled back and said "be good." Now, that alone is a weird thing to say and deserves multiple obsessive compulsive hours of analysis, but at that moment I took this as some sexy play on words and responded (it sounded coy in my head, but probably slurred in real life), "be good? How so? Can I be bad...?" My memory goes fuzzy here but I don't think anything special was said. All I know is then my hat fell off my head, I went crawling over seats for it, and when I found it, the moment was lost. Maybe it was never there. I leaned over, gave him a kiss on the cheek and tried to make a sexy exit but got confused by the child-proof locks on the door. Thirty seconds later, I got the door open and went inside alone and defeated to fall asleep.

No skillz.

A very happy hour

Talk about a shitty day. All day Sunday happy hour apparently translates into blackout. After starting with an innocent glass of wine around four, I headed home to have a productive night of taxes. Less than 30 minutes later, different friends call, determined to not miss any of insane deals a happy hour brings. I'm slightly embarassed to be on my second happy hour but quickly overcome the feeling when I discover bottles of wine are half price. Three bottles later and it is a VERY happy hour. However, this results in drunken online shopping and I have no idea what I purchased but recieved calls about fraudulant activity on my card, so I can only imagine that the purchases were out of character. I also called the amicable ex and spoke for 25 minutes about...well, your guess is as good as mine. I am hoping I was a nice drunk and that we're still amicable, but knowing my drunken calls to him, it's quite likely I picked a fight.
So, I start Monday morning with a raging hangover and a headache that only seems to increase as I am rear ended on my way to work. I am so out of it that I don't even get this woman's insurance information because my car appears fine and my pain hasn't settled yet. However, upon arriving to school I realize that my face is a bloody mess-literally. My sunglasses left huge cuts on my nose and eyelid after my face smashed into the steering wheel since I was too lazy to put on my seatbelt this morning. As the day progresses, my neck gets tighter and tighter and soon is fairly immobile. I was supposed to start my 2 week detox cleanse today but really feel like a cheeseburger and a glass of wine. Think I'll start Wednesday.

Back to Amicable.

So, the result of losing my voice for no less than 4 days was a total zen weekend. I didn't see or talk to a single person I knew for 4 days and well...it was good. I did plenty of yoga, read books, and painted. This also resulted in my decision to be the bigger person and write the hostile ex. I sent an email explaining he didn't need to respond but that I apologized how I acted out of spite and I will always care about him. We run in the same social circles and I did not want to deal with total awkwardness the next time fate put us at the same party. Turns out this was the opening he was looking for and I recieved the reply: "I hate that we are like this. I miss you. Please call when you are able." So just like that, hostile returned to amicable. Which I'm not sure where that leaves us and for how long. To be continued...

For Tom

I would have never thought to make the connection between the Smurfs and the Holy Grail, but this man did. It seems like something Tom might be in to, so here is the link. http://thedasmurficode.blip.tv/#1726996

The FDA doesn't know about this

If you're running around Sephora 5 minutes before close because a guy invited you over to his house, but you got the invite while you were already out and had forgotten to shower and put on makeup that day, be careful. Putting on multiple layers of lip plumper will get you really plump lips, but might also cause bleeding. Easier would be always washing your hair and putting on mascara before leaving the house but it's hard to be smart.

Amicable becomes hostile

Weekend #3-
This one could be a novella. I've been following random impulsives and following up on long lost lovers in an attempt to reinstate some sort of pathetic self flattery. Anyhow, it has paid off well in providing adequate distractions from the every other day fighting that seems to be taking place with the "not so amicable ex." My Mexican lover (who isn't acutally Mexican, just someone I met in Mexico, that is another blog all on its own) lives in New Mexico. I've never been there and I have fairly fond memories of the guy...so I headed down for a weekend. He is way too established for our age and not only paid for the flight, but I was taken care of all weekend. Once again, a nice surprise after fighting over who pays for a six pack with the not so amicable ex. All in all, a nice relaxing weekend where there was sun!!!
I get home late Sunday night and after calling the amicable ex...well, I flipped out. His phone was off and the only other time that happened is when he was lying. So I had a bad gut feeling and headed over to a girlfriends to pick up my pet. She is already drinking and I soon join. She quickly starts to tell me how mad she is at HER boyfriend and projects this anger to the amicable ex as well as her own lover. She takes over the calls to the amicable ex and starts leaving him some flattering messages, such as, "grow a pair!" All in all, he apparentally had 16 missed calls from me (her boyfriend had 92!) and yes, we were the crazy girls. This resulted in the amicable ex becoming the hostile ex. I was quickly nixed from facebook and myspace (which seems fairly juvenile to me), but then additionally, he took the time to "untag" every single photo of us. That just seems like a lot of work. This whole week has resulted in extremely vicious emails back and forth - which may be worth printing as a blog on their own- and we are now forever the hostile exes. Oh, and a Freudian slip on my part when I thought I was forwarding his email to a girlfriend with my attached phrase, "I AM SICK OF THIS!" Whoops, I hit reply.

Someone beat me up last night and their name was "whisky"

Four $1 beers, two shots of whiskey and one sex toy catalog make you a popular girl at the bar. I probably won't be going back to the Florida Room any time soon or calling the guy I ended up making out with like he was the last man on earth. Smooth.

I'm really not a klepto.

Weekend #2-
I decide to spend a quiet Friday night with girlfriends to prep for a weekend in Seattle. A couple bottles of wine later... (I see a reoccuring theme) and I wake up at 3:00 the next day, wearing nothing but socks. (So much for my early start in Seattle). What's embarassing is that I also find my purse stuffed full of oranges. Apparentally they sounded delicious when I was drunk and I meekly had to return to her house to return the oranges and attempt to convince her that I'm really not a klepto. I then find out that one of my friends had left something in my apartment and walked in to see me lying there completely naked. I'm sure it was an attractive sight.
I return from Seattle on Sunday and head straight to a Superbowl Party- what was supposed to be a calm afternoon was complicated by party favor shots and forties duct taped to hands. Made for a rough Monday morning.

When girlfriends ditch.

Okay, Stefka. Way to keep me in line. I am always way too interesting for my own good. Let's review the last 3 weekends I failed to immediately write about.
Weekend #1- I went to Oregon, for an outdoor experience with a girlfriend. First night there, I get a drunk call from the amicable breakup. We are both still supposed to spend President's Day together in Phoenix, so the whole "amicable" aspect is fairly important. Hmmm...this goes to shit when he tells me he thought I was seeing someone else, so he booked a ticket to see the ex girlfriend in Seattle. My reaction is nothing less than WHAT?!?!?!?! I'm not fooling myself- I don't have a lot of standards- but she was the one thing I insisted could never happen if we were to pull off the whole "amicable" bit. Since I only have one standard, I feel as though it's fairly important I follow it...and end up PISSED. It's ironic that "He's just not that into you" is also premiering at this time. We broke up because of distance...so he's still flying that far to see the ex?!?! So, I am mad and get wasted- which results in me getting kicked out of a club- and finding my own way home. But still...I get home and spend the whole next day sleeping- which upsets her enough to drop me off at the airport 4 hours early. 4 hours. I might also mention that this Oregonian airport is very similar to Cambodia- it is tiny and has NOTHING. I was ready to kill just for a pack of M&Ms.

High on the hill was the lonely Klarinka

I need Klarinka stories. I won't post anymore of my Boston shenanigans or my non-relationship relationship until I get an update.

Maple syrup is delicious

Scene: bar in Stowe, Vermont

Enter Jenny and Stephanie, ready to have beers. Upon scouting the crowded room they realize the only place it sit is a large corner booth occupied by three guys. Despite the fact that one looks like Ted Kaczynski, they decide to make friends and grab a seat. Conversation ensues.

Jenny/Stephanie: So do you guys live in Stowe?

Mountain man 1: Yes, I used to live in a tent with this guy (motions to mountain man 2) but now I'm in this double-wide trailer up the road.

Jenny/Stephanie: Uh huh. Rad.

Later on...

J/S: So what do you do?

Mountain man 2: I tap trees for maple syrup.

J/S: Like in the olden days? Is that a real job?

Mountain man 2: Yes.

Anyways, the guys were really nice and hooked us up with ski passes at the von Trapp family lodge. While we never saw our maple syrup mountain men again, we left with a true appreciation for the complexities of the syrup-making process.

Oops

Apparently my subconscious and my sewing machine teamed up because I have created a monster out of what seemed to be this innocent egg-shell colored raw silk: a slutty wedding dress.

Stogies and true love?

Klarinka isn't sleeping but I am having the weirdest, Freudian field day dreams. My subconscious is having a field day with my nocturnal thinking. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that I've been doing some odd stuff and hitting the town on Sunday and Monday nights. It also probably has to do with the fact I've been spending too much time with my non-relationship relationship, who texted me last night at 9 pm to see if I wanted to go to the cigar room at a steakhouse downtown. Being a vegetarian and trying to stay off the booze, I said yes.

I think it's funny that a week ago me and the non-relationship relationship had a discussion about name dropping as being a sign that you like someone. The discussion ended with a stern "don't go dropping my name;" however, I learned last night that my name has been dropped quickly frequently by him. So what's that all about, hmmm?

So I'll continue to let my subconscious mull that one over in the night time brandy sifter of the cigar room of my dreams.

Insomniac

This has been a week now. I can't sleep. Sleeping is one of my all-time favorite activities and it distresses me that I can't partake. For example, I went to bed around midnight and have been up since 1:30. The last time I slept through the night was last Tuesday, albeit heavy intoxication....and even that was only 5 hours. I'm the kind of girl that needs 10 hours of sleep a night, so you can only imagine how dysfunctional I've become with the 2 or 3 hours I'm getting. On top of that, I keep waking up sweating and feverish...but I'm not sick. What the heck is going on? I think it's my dreams...which remind me there are things in my head I'm pretending I've dealt with that I haven't.
For example, I was so stressed out in one of my dreams (and I am stressed out with this person in real life), that I BIT him. What makes this worse, is the fact he is 6 years old. I am thankful I am able to refrain from this behavior during waking hours.
Another dream is the ex of the Amicable Ex. I keep trying to push the dumb hoe out of my mind but she keeps coming back...and after a LONG talk with the Amicable Ex, I feel like I may have some sort of sixth sense. And long late night talks are also not condusive to sleep.
Problem is, this is affecting my daily life. I am a very organized person (not in my life exactly, but in my work and surroundings), and I have been losing things. I don't live in a very big space but I have LOST my scissors, hairspray, and glasses. I have looked everywhere and really am empathizing with those facing early dementia. The glasses pose a real problem as I am blind as a bat and can no longer read in bed or rest my eyes for an hour. (Without running into a chair or wall. At least I can see color.)
I need to sleep.

The kid gets back in the picture

Jan 13: Life of celibacy vow
Jan 21: Obama-hotness makes it go out the window.... Klarinka is re-toxing on her resolutions :)

Things that happened to me yesterday:
1. I saw a man on a bike pulling a trailer that was covered with soft core porn mags and cards with 1-900 numbers. I thought it might be funny to talk to the guy, who was wearing a red jumpsuit with studs and chains, but when I started to ride close to him he began yelling about how "fuckin' hip hip is ruining America." We did not converse.
2. Received two offers from two different people to go out for beers. In Portland, that means a date.
3. Did a successful shoulder stand at yoga without falling over.
4. Began planning blog convention/tequila drinking drinking '09.

And now the question of the week: why does crazy shit, like almost getting arrested in Chinatown, always happen on Sundays?

Yes we can.

I thought I had learned my lesson about weeknight drinking. However, Obama seems to have temporarily blinded me. A low key night resulted with the same guy in my bed in the morning. Deja vu? Also, I managed to get out of bed with a full 15 minutes to shower and make myself presentable. I think I pulled it off.

Suck it, Trebek

Man, you tell people you're on the bench and this makes one a hot commodity. It can also make for some social encounters between friends who think that even though you're not dating, you're still into bangin'. If I learned one thing last year, it was to not drink the water in South America. If I learned two things, it was to "not shit where you eat." The third thing I've learned - and just from last night - that I should not participate on gymnastic events when I have no formal training of doing things like flips on rings and such. I am so sore today....

Social graces

I love Klarinka's sober wisdom. I have been also laying off the sauce this week, due more to fear of wicked hangovers than trying to save money. But I haven't found enlightenment. Damn. Anyways, I have a Miss Manners question about blind dates. A very nice family friend has been trying to introduce me to her cousin who lives in the same city I do. However, he's 55; I'm 27. I don't think she quite realizes the awkwardness of this introduction. So she emailed last week to give both of us each other's emails; neither of us has written back. But I'm afraid it would be rude to not write something because I know the next time I see her she will ask if we got in touch. Awkward....

Dating Lessons

So, I've discovered that a lack of alcohol and men can really increase focus in your profession. As Stefka continues to crack me up, I'm recalling some of the lessons I've learned (still learning) about dating.

Lesson #1: When you see it's small, don't even try. Just run.
Anything less results in an unhappy you or just awkward occurences as you think of every reason why you have to go or why you really are so busy. For someone as transparent as myself, it can be extremely challenging to conceal fear. ("Umm..I think I'm moving to Mexico...tomorrow.")

Lesson #2: If you are double dating, don't frequent the same places.
Even in cities, this can be dangerous. And in your hometown, you constantly have to be on watch because any possible location can contain spies. Restaraunts, clubs, parks, even nail salons have exposed my double life. For example, when the guy you're dating calls and says he saw you in a Walgreen's with another guy, your lie just makes you look stupid. Especially when he obtains the security tape footage. (Which I feel is illegal- I no longer shop at Walgreens.)

Lesson #3: No matter how mad you are, try to avoid revenge hookups.
Especially when you get back together with the person. Especially when the revenge hookup happens to be the guy who stole your ex's high school girlfriend. Especially when the revenge hookup happens to be the guy in the apartment directly above the apartment your ex currently lives in. ("Funny running into you here!")

Recession dating

For those who had to cut Match.com out of their budgets: http://www.downtoearth.com/

I like the "no married people!" rule. Smart. Doing some of the hard work for us.

The Celibate

Though this will disappoint quite a few, I have done a 180 concerning my new lifestyle. After last weekend, I have decided I will pursue a life of celibacy for awhile. I figure I've had my fair share and it's time to focus on me. I went from a boyfriend and several crushes to a state of apathy toward men. I know this may slow the blogging but I have a slew of historic tales to fill until I return. I also considered pursuing a lifestyle of soberness but know that is unrealistic. So, instead I'm just limiting myself to the weekend indulgence. For now. And when I start drinking, well, the celibacy may go right out the window as well.

Real life sucks

I went to my job interview tipsy today in reaction to getting laid off. Not a smooth when you're trying to look professional. Getting into the elevator with another girl who was obviously also headed to the office, we both rode up until the doors opened and she got off. Still thinking I had a couple more floors and she was confused, I stayed in the elevator. The doors closed and the elevator didn't move; the doors opened and two guys were standing there. Looking at me oddly, they asked where I was going. "To the fifth floor," I answered in my duh-tone of voice. "Well, miss, you're on the fifth floor." I had to walk out of the elevator sheepishly and see the girl who I had been riding with standing at the front desk, probably wondering why I had just stood in the elevator alone for a minute. I told everyone I had a cold and was taking cough medicine to explain my loopy-ness.

On another note, I'm twenty seven, have two degrees (three if you count my EFL certificate), and am unemployed. What the hell am I going to do?

Unemployed and drunk

The ax came down today. Company had lost too much money and they were slashing positions right and left. I got caught in the crossfire. Now I don't have a job. So I'm doing what all good unemployed people do - drink.

Though I do have a job interview this afternoon, I decided champagne would be appropriate. I am now tanked and trying to spell correctly.

On other fronts, the non-relationship relationship crawled out of a hole and sent a non-senscial text message. He fails two booty calls and then expects me to respond? While I am dumb, I'm not that dumb. Sucker!

My head hurts

After my Bridget Jones'-style Friday night, things actually started to look up. One of my best friends called to set me up with a guy in her Ph.D program that she's been telling me about, and this guy I've got this weird non-relationship relationship (more on this later) was in the mood to hang out (as friends) as well. If you're concerned I may have double booked myself for one night, never fear! Of all my issues, having too many men and not enough time is not of them.

"Open bar" and "free wine and beer" are phrases that should be used cautiously around me. Being a fiscally-strapped young professional I like to get my money's worth. Last night was this awards banquet and I was being recognized, though I forgot to stand up when they called my name, and there was an open bar. Before meeting up with both or either of my two dates, I thought it might be smooth to have a drink to relax. Or four.

As it ended up, one didn't call and my stupid non-relationship relationship hanging out plan went down like this:

6:30 Him "Let me know when you're headed out after the banquet"
8:30 Him "How are things going?"
8:45 Me "X, Y, Z and etc are going to this bar shortly"
8:46: Him "And what are you doing?"
8:47 Me "Me too"
8:48 Him "Heading out."

Well, X, Y, and Z decided to go home so it was left to me to bring the fun and while I waited for him, had a couple more drinks. Plans and locations kept changing (with about twenty texts going back and forth) and then at 10:00 I receive "You weren't there. Headed to another party."

So I called explaining that things had gotten confusing, every one was leaving but if he still wanted to hang out I was up for another drink. "Sorry, another time. Bad communication, I guess..." Seriously? But it didn't end there.

Was home by 10:15, upon which I receive a slew of messages that the party is lame and he's leaving. Even though I don't respond I get another message a few minutes later: "where are you?"

Classy. We're supposed to be friends - we went on a couple dates, we're not each others type, we had the adult conversation, things were mutual and then this stuff happens. I got a text on Friday night which I assume was a low effort booty call of "I'm your neighborhood." So what's all this? I already did this non-relationship relationship bull shit last year for seven months and it was horrible. Why can't we just be friends and be cool with that? Why does this have to be so hard?

My head hurts.

My head hurts.

"Do you want me to get pregnant?"

So, as I reflect over my mishaps with a bottle of wine (as Denver man sleeps solo in my bed), I begin to question how my most serious relationships started. Normally under fairly abnormal circumstances.

The summer after my senior year, I go on a camping trip with small group. Tensions are high with the random mix of people and an overwhelming amount of testosterone. I am looking smoking hot in my camping clothes that resemble an 80's rock star. Pink tee, holes in my jeans, and hair that was dyed black with a hose in my backyard. You can imagine.

However, a fifth of vodka and four 12 packs later, everyone was having much more fun. Suddenly I don't have clothes and I'm on a trucking road with a man on top of me. Being only 18, I don't have a ton of smooth lines under my belt and decide the most romantic comment would be, "Do you want me to get pregnant?!?!" This luckily scared the guy enough to refrain (or bolt) and at some point, I assume, we stumbled back to the campsite. I wake up with my face smashed into the bottom of the tent with a back that looked like 10 kittens used it as a scratching post. And then we dated for 8 years. I'd like to think I've gotten smoother.

Denver Man

I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. Oh, Stefanka. The only thing that makes it even better was knowing that you were writing that while drinking to the sing-along version of Mama Mia.

I seem to always take a week to settle into things. Whenever I move or head to a new country, it always takes me a full 5-7 days to forget all I've left behind and embrace my new circumstances. So, as of last night, I was headed into that welcomed phase when the ex decides to call. Then proceeds to call another 10 times throughout the night. Let me explain why this was not condusive to circumstances.

I drunk dialed a guy from Denver to visit and he did. Such a gentleman, I was caught off guard that guys who hold open doors and walk on the outside of the sidewalk existed. Big tough men are usually my type and they usually need reminders that they need to even unlock a car door on the passenger side after they have settled in behind the wheel. Then I realized that he can't get it up. After an awkward attempt, I am too scared to try again.

He was sooo nice. But that was it. I didn't feel the zing. We didn't sleep together and kept cuddling and kissing. And I got annoyed- "Stop touching me!" I thought it was obvious nothing was there, but he left claiming, "if you can't get out to Denver for a bit, I don't mind flying back here first." What? Did we experience the same weekend?

I need someone who has bite.
And who I can bite back to.

If I didn't dress like I had a seizure in Patricia Field's closet, I wouldn't be at home on the couch tonight

*Warning: drunk post

I was riding through downtown today when I saw this cute guy riding a black, red and white Redline (my bike too!) As I began imagining how we'd take romantic bike rides together, where we'd honeymoon and name our kids, I didn't realize he had ridden up next to me and was smiling. "Where is Broadway?" he asked and I kind of pointed and spastically gestured in some random direction. I wanted to make more conversation but then I glanced in some office windows and saw what I was wearing and it was horrible. A bright red jacket, random turquoise scarf that kept coming undone as I was riding so I had kind of made a noose around my neck, hair half-stuffed under a black cap, oversized sunglasses and socks with sunflowers. I looked like a child who had gone into Patricia Field's closet, had a seizure and walked out. Not cute.

So I rode off cursing and reminding myself to always look in the mirror before I leave the house. But then he was back! Riding behind me, smiling again. And I all I could do was make some kind of gurgling, half-whimper sound that I hoped was cute. It was not.

Goddamnit. Had I been able to speak English and dress myself properly, we might be half drunk and fondling in some eastside bar. Names aren't important; good tongue usage is.

Four percent.

Smarter, not harder

I was talking with a good friend once about how frustrating it is to be book smart but semi-idiotic and do things like use hand soap in the dish washer. My mom always tells me she's amazed I've made it this far in life with all of my "incidents" and accidents, and I have to agree. I have done a lot of blatantly stupid things. Don't ever joke around about having a criminal record during a job interview.

Anyways, after talking about something stupid that she or I had recently done, she offered up this pearl of wisdom: "If I were just four percent smarter, my life would be totally different." So there you go, folks. A four percent increase in brainpower and smarts is all it takes to change a life.

However, looking back on 2008 I feel that I was perhaps up to 26% stupider, particularly in my choices of male company. I also made some poor decisions about experimenting with herbal home remedies that came from packages written in languages I don't speak. Here's a hint - do the web research or have some who understands Spanish translate the directions before you O.D on something referred to as "nature's valium."

But this year will be different. I'm making resolutions and "smarter, not harder" is the theme of 2009.

1. Never go into an Ecuadorian bath house, and if you do, keep your clothes on and your mouth closed
2. When going to the bathroom outside, always pee downhill
3. When going to the bathroom inside, always make sure your belt or any ribbons you might have hanging from your outfit are not in the toilet
4. Don't microwave bike shorts
5. Always remember to take a map or an i Phone when going into the wilderness
6. Don't date men who are currently in relationships
7. Don't date men that have been in the armed forces or tell you how much they enjoyed killing people
8. E.D. is a laughing matter - except to someone's face. Just call it a night at that point.
9. Don't expect to meet quality people at dive bars.
10. Do buy a ticket to Belize ASAP when your friend tells you she's found a great deal

And by the way, I would like to thank Katinka for her hilarious text messages the other night during the ten bottle of wine-break up binge. Laughter always heals. :)

10 Empty Wine Bottles

So, I am constructively dealing with this breakup with heavy drinking and sex. A girlfriend came over for pizza and wine on Tuesday night and that somehow produced a massive hangover, 10 empty wine bottles, and a man in my bed. Apparently, I called him at midnight to "bring over wine." Holy toledo. On top of this, I made the fatal mistake of an angry text to the ex, which does not help to promote a future friendship.
I'm going a little crazy. Can whoring myself out for a short time result in a zen state?

The Amicable Breakup

I don't really know how this all plays out yet. Which just results in sleepless nights. I know we'll stay friendly, but how close? It's weird because we still talk everyday and he still wants me to visit and vice versa. Hmmm....not sure if that's a good idea or not. Should I go cold turkey, which hurts a lot now but may be better in the long run? Or do I do the gradual breakup which is how I generally handle most breakups and although it takes forever, lets it slowly and less painfully end.

I go back and forth (overanalyzing is my speciality). I went from being a total bitch to him on Friday night (which resulted in him gong home and promptly changing his myspace status. OMG) to feeling like shit the next day, apologizing profusely and hanging out with him like normal on Saturday and having amazing an amazing time.

I do better cold turkey with boys when it involves leaving the country. Not an option right now with this whole career thing.