Should it be renamed Averagelate20something? NOOOO

My birthday has come and gone. I am now officially 28. I was starting to feel a little old last week as I raked leaves, scrubbed kitchen floors and did load upon load of laundry during my week off. Where did the days of sleeping all day, running off to the beach and not having a care in the world during a vacation go? Perhaps then went off to the dumpster with the rest of my freedom when I cleaned the refrigerator? Alas, no, those days are still here. My youth liberty returned to me the day I drove my mother's Buick, you know, the one with the button that you push when you want to go directly to Boca Raton. It was this day that I realized I certainly am still too young to be driving an old person car.

I celebrated my juvinatlity by become world-spinning drunk at kickball. I tried to sleep in my car that night but Coach so kindly drove me home. And then there was a roller skating Halloween party to attend. Murt, Flick, Hollywood and random other's attended Bear's party. With no planning at all Flick and I seemed to go as opposites, I as the boob-revealing Little Dead Riding Hood and she as a sumo wrestler.



















So I am now officially 28 and no, I will not be renaming the blog AverageLate20Something as was previously suggested, thanks a lot!

Confused 101

I really hate dating. And considering Bear and I aren't technically even dating I hate this even more. I'm just so confused by him. I'm currently having this intense feeling that he is backing off but I keep second guessing everything. Maybe he is backing off, or maybe he is just really busy this week getting ready for his party on Saturday. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Maybe its an instinct. Maybe not. I don't know.

WOW

I went out with the girls and Bear the other night as Pixie's last hurray before she takes off for Virginia forever. The night was filled with extreme merriment and lots of intoxication. I've been racking my brain on the best description of the night without sounding like a total whore and just can't come up with anything funny/ interesting.

Thank goodness Flick was there and able to correspond the night's activities so I don't have to: As Promised...

I just learned two very valuable lessons, both taught to me by the extreme wind that is currently plaguing New York.



1) When you have a large metal bar through your ear it will get cold and it will transpose that temperature to the very sensitive and thin cartilage in your ear.



2) If there is any doubt, just go ahead and put the coat on your dog, or will come back with a pupsicle.

D.O.G

My entire life I have had delusions of grandeur, complete and total assumption that someday, I will be famous. Everyone will know me, and of course, it will be for a good thing, not like Amy Fisher, the Long Island Lolita. So far, in my almost twenty eight years, nothing has gotten me to the fame I so rightfully deserve.

Wait...stop. I was going to blog about my extremely short 15 minutes of fame while on "Great Hotels" while working at Mohonk, and then extend it into how I like to pretend I'm famous because my dog broke my nose. But that will all be saved for another day. While attempting to find a picture or a link or anything in regards to the TV show I was on I came across this article instead.

And now I'm speechless. Does this hold true for all the men out there with "guns" for arms? The beefier their muscles get the smaller their balls get? I think we should hold a study. Does anyone know any muscle-bound douche bags willing to discuss the growth or shrinkage of their testes?

Date #2

Had Date #2 with Bear last night. Things were going well, dinner, browsing at EMS and Pier 1 then coffee at Starbucks. We're laughing, we're talking. That is until he comes out with this whole "I like to get to know people first, I don't like to jump into things" spiel. What the hell is that? I thought I was getting the brush off. I basically told him, ok this is your plan, just keep me updated. I figured that was the best way to keep my hands out of it and not look like a fool for making assumptions, but I did assume he wanted nothing to do with me anymore.

We continue to talk and somehow we come back around to him saying he'd like to do this again sometime. Um, hello, did you not just blow me off? After back and forth banter about his plan and getting to know me I think I finally get it "I'm not asking you to be my boyfriend" (wow, if you had asked me when I was 16 if those words would have ever come out of mouth I would have said "hell no") Apparently that is basically what he was saying.

So as for now Bear and I are going on "faux-dates", get-togethers if you will in order to get to know each other better. Which is fine with me because they are basically dates, he pays, I laugh at his jokes and we walk arm-in-arm. The only real downside, there has still been no smooching!

Hello Goodbye

They say that when one door closes another one opens. Or maybe the saying has something to do with a window. Now I'm not sure. But it's so true. Just as I have started getting tired of the middle school boy/ sex slave routine that Boy #7 has seemed to create for us, Bear walks into my life. I don't mean to be melodramatic, or insinuate in any way, shape, or form, that either of these relationship turns is serious and/or official, but I'm pretty freaking tired of Boy #7 and Bear does want to go out again, so at least they are moderatly moving into the direction of being official.

As for Boy #7, he just can't have any single conversation without it turning into sex. In order to be a FWB you actually need to have the friendship part of it. Otherwise your just having random sex, and dude, if I'm going to do that I might as well be getting paid, because well, The Dutchess of Kickball has to eat. Flick even mentioned to him that maybe I was starting to feel like a peice of meat and yet we still end up having the following converstation:

Boy #7: ample supply -> gang bang
Me: oh, yeah, that wasn't that good of a pun
Boy #7: but you'd enjoy it
Me: yes, i'm a whore, how did you know?
Boy #7: LOL
Boy #7: I didn't call you that
Me: no?
Boy #7: nope
Me: hm, that's funny, it sure sounded like you did from here
Boy #7 went away at 10:02:12 AM.

Needless to say I'm pretty freaking sure I'm just not THAT horny anymore.

And as for Bear... I decided to be brave and email him after the whole "Keep in touch" comment (which I do hope, by the way, we will look back on and laugh about sometime in the future.) It turns out that "keep in touch" is translated literally. I might just need a Bear/ English dictionary because "keep in touch" mean "I had a good time." We are planning on lunch over the weekend. Perhaps there will be smooching at kickball this week. I should buy gum.

Dating = math

So my date has come and gone and I'm now confused. And it is this confused state which makes me hate dating. He seems rather nice and I could definitely be interested. We chatted about good first date topics; family, work, interests, etc. I thought it went well. He did ask me if I'm always that shy, but least he didn't call me naive like other first (and therefore only) dates have.

As he was driving me back to my car he said I should come over and see his house some time, I took that as a good sign. But then as I was getting out of the car he told me to "keep in touch." WHAT ON EARTH DOES THAT MEAN? Does that mean there is no way in hell he is going to call me so I shouldn't bother either? Does that mean, yeah seriously, keep in touch so we can do this again? Why does dating have to be like a horrible math word problem, way to hard and easier to make a computer do it for you. I hate dating.

Help

I have a date in 2 1/2 hours. Quick, help...I need topics of discussion for a first date!

If you like fish biscuits then you'll love...

After Noelle came over on Wednesday with her sweet potato for our now weekly Lost Party I just didn't think that life could get any better.

I had basically decided by Wednesday morning that the new boy just wasn't going to call. I had given him my number on Saturday, after three solid days without hearing from him I had assumed I had gotten my hopes up for nothing. That is until kickball on Thursday.

It turns out that this boy DID call "me". In fact, he called "me" twice. Who "me" is exactly I'm not sure because my number is not XXX-XXX-3095. In fact, it's XXX-XXX-3093. Some poor random girl has been getting messages from my new potential special someone. Good thing she didn't call back. Rumor has it he called me both Monday and Tuesday. He actually called me twice even though I didn't return his first phone call! How amazing is that? We flirted a bunch, made plans to meet up for coffee, and double checked that we both have each other's correct number. I'll keep you updated.

P.S. Yes those are my fabulous-faux-retro-really-not-remodeled-since-the-'50's bright yellow cabinets behind Noelle. Aren't they schnazzy?!