tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46331861227703022292024-03-07T22:34:20.405-08:00A girl's guide to trouble.Attempting to make something constructive out of alcohol binges and men mishaps.Klarinkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02819602932846789265noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-58459179045060974752009-06-18T11:10:00.001-07:002009-06-18T11:11:08.926-07:00Nut 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?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-84885416293202593152009-06-11T22:03:00.000-07:002009-06-11T22:04:24.744-07:00Red AlertThe 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.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-24972517571329542292009-06-07T21:52:00.000-07:002009-06-07T21:58:12.665-07:00Long 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-<br />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.<br />On the other hand, a triple orgasm seems to make up for it.Klarinkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02819602932846789265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-54200259193343235932009-06-03T22:28:00.000-07:002009-06-03T22:33:44.542-07:00Dog TrainingHave 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.<br />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.Klarinkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02819602932846789265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-34147171874858823582009-06-02T18:32:00.000-07:002009-06-02T18:34:46.054-07:00This Never Happens in the MoviesYou 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.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-84968222508728032822009-05-25T16:22:00.000-07:002009-05-25T16:23:37.023-07:00le DivorceDivorced men seem to love me. Perhaps our mutual lack of commitments to our previous partners will make for one complete relationship? Hm.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-13405851029410099022009-05-16T16:34:00.000-07:002009-05-16T16:36:05.973-07:00Hello, 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?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-39579981366625455392009-05-10T18:30:00.000-07:002009-05-10T18:33:17.087-07:001 am BlackoutSo, 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.Klarinkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02819602932846789265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-10910541261874895852009-05-06T08:23:00.000-07:002009-05-06T08:24:21.559-07:00*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.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-83325606660918470742009-04-29T18:09:00.000-07:002009-04-29T18:11:18.689-07:00FMLNot 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.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-39232392907525449842009-04-26T13:37:00.000-07:002009-04-26T13:51:01.408-07:00Blind DatesI 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.<br /><br />Blind Date #1-<br /> 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.<br /><br />Blind Date #2-<br /> 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.Klarinkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02819602932846789265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-7252968366630711332009-04-17T21:21:00.001-07:002009-04-17T21:21:56.137-07:00Do the Helen Kellerhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=giNlgrCQVXkUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-50157609805325273462009-04-15T22:06:00.000-07:002009-04-15T22:08:24.532-07:00Happy 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.
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<br />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.
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<br />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:
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<br />“I…I… at weekend…”
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<br />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:
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<br />“At weekend, I good holiday. I fuck grandmother. Then make fucking on sister, mother and girlfriend. Very good holiday.”
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<br />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.
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-4823904970816839662009-03-29T09:44:00.000-07:002009-03-29T09:47:25.987-07:00Life is hardI 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?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-12116369919931923702009-03-21T08:42:00.000-07:002009-03-21T08:57:04.675-07:00Thing 1 and Thing 2The 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.<br /> <br /> 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.Klarinkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02819602932846789265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-63235580216328392672009-03-18T21:47:00.000-07:002009-03-18T21:57:09.419-07:00I 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.)<br /><br />Hey its "High School Boy:.. that guy you met last nite..<br /><br /> 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..<br /><br />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...<br /><br />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 .. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCZfJ5ai07U" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCZfJ5ai07U</a><br />Well.. i hope to hear from you Klarinka..<br />Bye, "High School Boy"Klarinkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02819602932846789265noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-20030560894123788162009-03-16T18:55:00.000-07:002009-03-16T19:04:07.050-07:00Men 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...<br /><br /> 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.Klarinkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02819602932846789265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-25931460645410879942009-03-15T19:23:00.000-07:002009-03-15T19:24:37.417-07:00Social MoresI really hate telling people, "so, I have this infection..." Even though it's my kidneys, I still feel like a dirty pirate hooker.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-32656521939173618072009-03-14T17:40:00.000-07:002009-03-14T17:42:28.361-07:00This is why I don't drink red wineBecause 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!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-38261967873781778162009-03-09T21:11:00.000-07:002009-03-09T21:14:39.719-07:00I'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.<br /><br />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.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-40067756500564254232009-03-09T00:19:00.000-07:002009-03-09T17:29:13.814-07:00Hot does not mean smartSo, 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.<br />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.Klarinkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02819602932846789265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-53569765950700594272009-03-03T21:43:00.001-08:002009-03-03T21:52:17.174-08:00Spilt MilkI 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.<br />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.Klarinkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02819602932846789265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-82283655274976268092009-03-02T17:37:00.000-08:002009-03-02T17:40:03.165-08:00It's come to thisI'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.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-23459492810076793152009-02-25T21:31:00.000-08:002009-02-25T21:40:06.064-08:00SkillzI 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />No skillz.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4633186122770302229.post-23030809111114911282009-02-23T18:29:00.001-08:002009-02-23T19:02:43.562-08:00A very happy hourTalk 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.<br /> 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.Klarinkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02819602932846789265noreply@blogger.com1