The bitch is back

12 07 2009

MFEO – I apologize. I had a lot of thinking to do before I could write.

I’ve thought. A LOT. So here I am. Back and bitchier than ever. Sack up, hoes.

It’s official. I am seeing Toast. I have no idea what it means. It both terrifies and delights me. The last few days have been a whirlwind. I went up to see him last Wednesday and so began the decline into insanity.

This is my blog and I’ll talk about whatever I want, with no censorship, so if you don’t like it or are offended. Leave.

We had sex. Why? Because I’m horribly impatient and he had me all hot and bothered. We climbed into the back of his car and made out to Sufjan Stevens for awhile. It was awesome. I felt like I was 16. Then my slut vagina started doing all the talking and next thing I know…we’re in bed. Now look, I’m not the type of girl who talks about what goes on behind closed doors. I will say it was good. I will say that. I will also say I paraphrased that whole last part from High Fidelity.

This is where things get sticky. I have been conditioned by all of the douchebags I’ve gotten wrapped up in to not get emotionally attached, especially when sex is involved. Toast? Bless his precious little heart. He goes heart first into everything. We have had a lot of discussions about our very fundamental differences. Basically he’s a total woman and I am such a dude. Those are our words, not just mine. After the sex, he changed. He got very emotional and I got freaked out.

I don’t like to talk about feelings, I don’t like to ask questions, I just go with it. Here’s where the yelling starts…3…2…

This is why Banky and I worked. While I don’t miss him, because he is a giant dickweed and I KNOW THAT NOW, I miss the simplicity. We talked. We even talked about important things. We never talked about how we felt. It was just understood. I like subtlety. Me talking about my feelings is like having teeth pulled. I HATE it. I say enough to get my point across. That’s it. I rely on instinct and actions to show how I feel. I also can read people fairly well. I don’t need to be told how Toast feels, it is written all over his face. It’s this mix of fear, fascination and adoration. It terrifies me and is so endearing all at the same time.

It may seem odd to say this on a blog on the internet where anyone can read it, but…I’m very private. I am also fiercely independent. Read the rest of this entry »





Technology blows

8 07 2009

This would be the week my laptop decides to die and Jenny Jones is up my b-hole sideways.

I apologize to you loyal readers, there is OMGSOMUCH to talk about. I got home at 3:30 this morning. I am a heinous bitch right now. It was worth every precious second. Toast makes me go weak in the knees. Seriously. I am TERRIFIED I am going to somehow fuck this all up. Please don’t let me. Keep my head on straight. Wifey…Ruby…I’m looking at you.

Last night, at dinner with Toast, my phone goes off. Text from the B-Man. Remember his gross ass spider bite I gave him the Hello Kitty bandaid for? He posted a picture of it on facebook and I commented on it. “That is disgusting. I hate you”. He texts me to ask why I hate him for posting that. “It’s gross”. “Your mom’s gross”. “So is you face”. “I forget what’s next”. “What’s next is I’m on a date and I’ll talk to you later”. “Oh. Talk to you later”.

This afternoon – “So how was your date last night”? I know he’s been sitting on that text since 8:00 this morning. I tell him it was great. He says he thought I said it was a bunch of weirdos. I tell him that’s what I thought too, but I was pleasantly surprised. “That’s great”! I wish I believed him. Oh wait…what’s this feeling…oh. There isn’t one because I don’t give a fuck. You screwed up BOTH chances I gave you against the better advice of my friends. Choke on it.

Anyway…Toast. Tooooooooast. He makes me all swoony and things and stuff. He has put me in the driver’s seat. TERRIFIED, YA’LL. This is all so…sudden. Unexpected. Amazing.

If he weren’t so godamn precious, I’d punch him in the face for letting me stay up so late last night, ensuring I am wearing the tightest pair of cranky pants I own at the moment. Trust me when I say it was worth it. I am still floating. Sufjan Stevens and the scent of vanilla will forever be changed.

Oh, and in case I didn’t mention it….Cory put my wrists up on his Myspace. Life is fucking grand.





Quickies

7 07 2009

Another excellent search term that lead people to my blog – ludicroussalmon. That was that awesome IM I got from someone who said I IM’d them with “Let’s talk about rooms full of Chinese people!”

I can’t make my life up.

Speaking of….this was the worst timing EVER for my laptop to abandon me! So many things, sooo many things! Excellent weekend with Space Cowboy and appearances by Clark. Space Cowboy got the baddest tattoo ever. My mother’s crazy ass got engaged, my sister came to visit and several dates with Toast.

*swoon*

Despite my iPod totally embarrassing me, and me forcing him to meet nearly all the scary/important people in my life, I think he likes me. He is a very brave (or very stupid) man. I am kind of crazy about him. This is so typical me. Try to be an asshole and start a blog mocking people for their stupidity and the scariness of dating and end up meeting the most amazing dude imaginable. Win? Yeah, we’ll go with that.

I’d write more but my sister gave me a caffeine pill before she left and I am sort of out of it right now. I need to pull it together, I have a date with Toast tonight.





Hi there

4 07 2009

So my beloved Macbook decided that it didn’t need it’s video something or other anymore…so it killed it. I am sans computadora for the next week or so. Don’t leave me! I will be around and posting, just lightly. I do have lots to talk about including Space Cowboy’s visit. Anyway, look for me on Monday. I hope ya’ll had a happy and safe 4th, or as it will be known to me…they day Palin quit that bitch. :) xoxo





She’s a beauty in disguise. She’s a diamond in the rough.

2 07 2009

OkCupid is not providing the gold that POF was, but I’m not going to talk about that here anymore unless it’s really good.

My dad called me this morning. He woke me up. I stayed up way too late talking to someone… I can’t help myself. I am getting all mushy. Anyway, Pops called and yelled at me for not being up yet to go to work. It never stops with my parents. “Hi, I’m 27 and I know what time I have to be at work, don’t you have a lumpy prostate or something?” He goes to the doctor next Tuesday. I am apparently the only person nervous about this.

Totoro confronted him about the “sexcapade” from a few weeks ago. My family, ya’ll… My youngest sister shows up at Pops’ on a Friday night, drunk. She opens the door and he yells for her not to come in. She said it reeks of weed, oh yeah, the man is 63 and a total stoner. Still. She waits and hears panicked whisperings. He finally comes to the door, shirt buttoned….pants…yeah. Being 17, she looks him in the face and tells him he makes her want to vomit. All class in this family. She goes to get her phone charger and can hear someone getting dressed in his closet. I CAN’T MAKE THESE PEOPLE UP. I SHARE DNA WITH THEM. Help.

So Totoro teases him about it today and he tries to laugh it off, his pot use isn’t a family secret by any means. Neither is the drinking. We all do that. See above and that explains mine. Eventually he admits he had someone at the house. Ya’ll…my Pops is 63. He has five kids (we know of) and has been divorced three times. How is that attractive on any level? The dude does nothing but run and eat nuts and berries. He is a skinny old bald man with Ted Nugent facial hair. Only in the Mitten, ya’ll…

Today was another long one. I left work at 8:00. Wrong. So wrong. Highlight of my day? Making Banky my bitch. How so? He had a training class at the home office today. He wanted to have lunch. Look, I’m an adult. I made my point loud and clear. We are friends and friends only. I know ya’ll worry. I get it, it’s sweet. Stop. I’m mature enough that I can just be friends with him. I can also get him to do whatever I want. He texts me to ask for a bandaid. “What the hell kind of training class is this?” “Just bring me a bandaid. Please?”

Ask and ye shall receive:

Banky will always be mine and Hello Kitty's bitch.

Banky will always be mine and Hello Kitty's bitch.

He thinks he got bit by a spider. EW. I offered to go hold his hand at the urgent care across the street. Stubborn wouldn’t go. He is going to get necrosis and his hand is going to fall off and no Hello Kitty bandaid in the world can fix that. So there.

I told him all about my adventures. He laughed and was actually very supportive of it. He encouraged me to not go out with anyone creepy. I think I bruised his ego a little bit. He gets that look on his face and I feel…what’s that word…bad? So I didn’t have the heart to really tell him about Toast in detail. I just said I met someone really cool.

Here’s the thing about that jackass. He and BNB are the exact same. They want what they can’t have. If they think I am interested, they want nothing to do with me. If there is someone else or I act all nonchalant, they beat my fucking door down. I hate the games and the bullshit.

Toast does none of that. The honesty is refreshing. Even when it’s things I’m afraid to say, I say them. I wonder if I feel safe because I am still convinced I made him up in my head? I guess we’ll find out Monday…

I thought I’d lost the dude with kids…he needs a nickname but I just don’t know…I like him the way I like pineapple on my pizza. It’s different and a nice change but I only need it once in a very great while. I didn’t hear from him at all today. I thought I had pissed him off finally. Nope. Didn’t charge his phone. I promised I’d see him again. Guilt, I hate you. He’s not going to like it when I tell him I like him too much and it’s scaring me and I’m not ready yet. Lie? No. Well, yes. Not him and I think I finally am ready. Ish. I think. Hold me.





There’s nothing I can do

1 07 2009

Glutton. I signed up for OkCupid today after realizing POF may kill me. I will say one thing about it…slightly better looking dudes. If you dig that scraggly haired, waifish hipster type. Can I quit after…well, shit. I haven’t even made it a week. I’m pathetic.

Today was tiring. So tiring I’m still up at 1:00am. I had meetings from 11:00 – 5:00 straight essentially. Left at 7:15. I get to my car…it won’t start. It’s shark week, ya’ll. It takes everything I have not to burst into tears. MFEO calls. Someone complimented her on the engagement ring I picked out for us. That makes me less weepy. I call my mother. She offers to come get me. I tell her no, I’m going to call my uncle. He is so awesome. I love Toc. He says 15 minutes. 20…30…45. I text Toast. He cheers me up. I am getting sick of waiting.

I call the only other person I know who is good with cars. Yelling starts in 3…2… Banky tells me it sounds like my battery. He’s concerned and asks if I need him to come get me. Um. No. NO. But thanks. Toc shows up as Banky is telling me he’ll be at my office tomorrow and he wants to have lunch. We seem to be handling this friends only thing amazingly well. I agree. We’ll see if I change my mind.

Toc jumps my car and I drive straight to AutoZone. I don’t have to do a godamn thing and they give me the top shelf battery for the bargain battery price. Blonde hair and boobies will get you everything in this world. I take the battery over to Toc’s and he puts it in for me. We bullshit awhile and I head home.

I have spent most of the evening, well since 10:30ish, talking to Toast. I am so very, very nervous about this one. I had no idea I’d actually meet someone I wanted to…meet. He’s starting to make me kind of…human. I anxiously await his IMs and he makes me smile so big it hurts. I am in trouble. Big, squishy feeling, adorable trouble. I’m not supposed to do this!! Eh. Fuck it. Life happens.

I decided earlier this week to stop caring what other people thought or felt about me and my actions. I also won’t let their words or actions affect me emotionally. All bets are off during shark week though.

Speaking of, go to myspace right now and listen to Two Way Radio – Runaway. It’s doing funny things to me. Good things. Smiley things. Toasty things.








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