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.