Just Remember, I Still Haven't Been Classified as Clinically Insane . . .

I know it's trendy to be a little OCD and everybody says that they are and we all go around pretending that we all have some sort of mental affliction when all most of us really want is attention.

I am not technically diagnosed with the OCD, although I do have some tendencies. However, I am a hypochondriac and nobody who knows me (even a little) will dispute that.

So, yesterday, I kept feeling like I had something in my throat. I coughed and coughed hoping to get it out. When I got home, I looked at my tonsils in the mirror and saw something white perched happily on my left tonsil. I remember BFF (a registered nurse, by the way) said that sometimes, after you've had a cold or a sinus infection these little white clumps can form on your tonsils and if they don't go away in a couple of days, your breath might really start to stink. She also told me that you can actually just pick them off with, like, a q-tip or something.

Remembering these words as I looked at the white object on my tonsil, I embarked on a journey that was both terrifying and successful. For 45 minutes, I poked , prodded, tweezed, gagged, and coughed. I was determined to get this thing off of my tonsil!! Finally, I just stuck my finger back there and felt around until I dislodged it. . .and then swallowed it.

Now, I know what you're all thinking!!! That this is easily one of the most disgusting and disturbing stories you've ever heard me tell! And you're right. It is disgusting. But just imagine what it would be like to be my finger. . .and be thankful that you're not. I know that I am.

And if you're really wondering, it would have done no harm to just have left it alone. Allegedly, they go away on their own. But see, that's my point! I couldn't leave it alone.

So, the next time you drive back home from work just to make sure that you turned the oven off, or check your locks 10 times before you go to bed, just remember: at least you're not crazy enough to explore your tonsils with your finger, a q-tip, and a pair of tweezers.

And then, feel sorry for me.

Absolutely Unstable

I have problems. This is not new news. When I'm busy and I don't have time to bother with my instability, everything just hums along! However, when I'm not busy and I'm feeling sorry for myself, AND my Man Out of Jail (MOOJ) might have said some slightly insensitive things, a trifecta occurs...or maybe more like a perfect storm...

Let's take this weekend for instance: MOOJ was back home from his traveling job, and although we had seen each other just the weekend before, I expected that he would want to spend time with me. Hardly. He wanted to spend time with his "boys" since he hadn't seen them in two weeks. Fine. Whatev. I'll find my own stuff to do that will be BETTER and COOLER!

Well, Saturday night, I came down with a nasty head cold. That's when the real problem began.

You see, when I get sick, as happens at least 3 times a year, I throw a big fat pity party for myself. I think about how alone I am and how I always have to take care of myself and what crappy friends I have because they're not psychic and they can't telepathically discover that I'd like a cup of tea and a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup.

Now, add a touch of testosterone-filled boyfriend hanging out with his "boys" and sit back and watch the fireworks commence!

Oh, it was bad. . .and histrionic. I was in rare form. I was angry, I was sad, I was vengeful, I actually contemplated calling an ex-boyfriend (that I hate) just to try and make MOOJ jealous!! Euripedes couldn't have written a scene more dramatic. The text messages I composed, the voice mails I left, some of them barely comprehesible, were, at best, not suggestive of reasonability.

I'm crazy. And whilst I'm going through an particularly unstable period, I just can't manage to keep it to myself. I first have to direct all my irrational insecurities to my significant other, and then I freely express them to whomever will answer their phone when I call.

You would think, that after nearly three decades of having to deal with myself, I'd learn to lock myself in a room, with only a TV and an Agatha Christie book (possibly a journal also (to be burned shorly after my release)), only to come out when the period of instability has passed. But no. That's not what I do.

I am an evangelical witness to my own dysfunction.

While you may not be able to empathize with my problem, surely you will sympathize with me! Please, please feel sorry for me! Please! I promise I'll invite you to my next pity party. . .and let you fix my soup.

Yours eternally for infinity,
Queen, III

Phoning It In

Today, I'm barely teaching. It's awesome! I can't believe I get paid to do this sometimes. Although, my afternoons are usually pretty hectic, thanks to all those little monsters who still need to be in diapers. I guess I shouldn't complain, though, because right now I'm blogging while my class is quietly working on a project I made up on the fly. I didn't come to school prepared today, not in the least, but you couldn't tell it from how "engaged" my students are.

"Engaged" is the new buzz word in education. We LOVE to use the word "engaged" now. Are your students engaged in this conversation, engaged in this lesson, engaged to you? Ha! Just kidding...but in some circumstances, it would be a valid question.

The only thing I have to worry about today is what the cafeteria is serving for lunch. I really hope it's nachos.

Mad, I tell you! Quite Mad!!

A few weeks ago, I had a great idea! My Man Out of Jail and I (who, by the way I have now been seeing for over a year (I KNOW!)) really wanted to taste the "Best Hamburger in America" as rated by somebody important. It just so happened that "Best Hamburger in America" was only about a 40 minute drive away. Man Out of Jail said, "Let's drive." And I said, "Wait! I have a great idea! Let's ride public transit!"

In Texas, those are famous last words.

"Best Hamburger in America" was pretty awesome....BUT... it took 4 hours to get it and then 3 more hours to get back home and about 2 of those hours were spent waiting for a bus/train in 100 degree heat. It was a disaster. And it was all my idea.

Needless to say, Man Out of Jail won't be listening to any of my "great" ideas anytime soon.

Oh, and I forgot to mention, that when we were getting off of the train, to then get on the bus that would take us to "Best Hamburger in America," I fell down the stairs, flat on my face and broke my flip-flop (and lost the last two ounces of my dignity). Do you have any idea how hard it is to walk in a broken flip-flop? It probably would have been easier to hop.

*sigh* I have good intentions, though. It's too bad the road to heaven isn't paved with them.

Fatty McFat Pants

I have gotten soooooo fat. I know that hearing people say that when they've gained a mere 10 or so pounds is obnoxious. Nobody wants to hear you complain about your fatness. And yet, here I am. Complaining.

You see around March of this year, I was lookin pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. However, life got hectic, and my diet and workout plan went down the drain. Then, this summer, I thought that instead of taking a full-time break for 10 weeks, I'd sign up for a full-time job...outside...in the Texas heat...all summer. Clearly, I have no sense.

For most people, a job in the heat would discourage them from eating a lot, but not me, no sir! Whatever I could get my hands on, I shoved it my mouth and washed it all down with some Gatorade...you know, to stay hydrated.

Imagine my surprise this morning when I put on some pants that are usually quite baggy and found said pants barely buttonable. BARELY buttonable!!

I am now in deep loathing of myself. And isn't that the most frustrating part?? That you can't fix your weight problems in just a couple of days?? I can't believe how unaware I've been of my gradual expansion!

*sigh* If only I had the discipline to have an eating disorder. I mean, once you recover from bulimia, you are never fat again, right? Have you ever seen a fat recovering bulimic? But, alas, I have not the strength to carry out such a diet plan! I'll be lucky to muster up the discipline to stop drinking Dr. Pepper every single day.

The bottom line is, I must do something quickly as I'm about to out widen all my clothes. And I have not the funding to purchase an entirely new, wider wardrobe.

Wish me luck, that is if anyone is still reading this blog, which I doubt they are...but if you are, wish me luck. I'm gonna do something, even if it involves eating less.

I hate eating less.

Nobody Loves Me

Listen, I know that my posting has been sporadic at best and I know that I have let all 4 of my faithful readers down. I know this. I know. And I'm sorry. I feel kind of like I've been cheating on all of you! The guilt I've been carrying has been just too awful, so even though I've done this about a hundred times, I'm recommitting myself, to you, my readers and to my blog as a whole. In fact, I've set aside time everyday to make sure that my blog is my first priority. And if this sounds dubious, I'll add that the time I've set aside is time that I'm also at work....so when you factor that in, I think that you can have a little more confidence in my dedication.

"But, Queen," you say. "You've made this promise before! Why should we believe you??" Because...I'm blogging at work. Let me show you in an algebraic equation: Blog access at work + my questionable work ethic + my renewed promise to ALL my faithful readers = Blog Dedication. Don't you see, faithful readers?! Don't you?! The elements, as Dr. Watson would say, are coming together!! And maybe, slowly but surely, as I prove my dedication, 4 faithful readers will become 6 and 6 will become 10 and I'll be the happiest girl of all time!!!!!

I'm here for your daily reading pleasure. I promise. And maybe when I finally prove my loyalty, you'll love me as much as I love you. Maybe...just may be...

Breakin Up is Hard To Do

That's right. It's not easy to break up with your man. It's so hard, in fact, I didn't actually do it. I'm weak. Also, I cried a lot...not at first...but later after he kinda started to cry...OH MY GOSH! It was awful.

I just know that if that's any indication of what it my be like to break up with My Man Out of Jail, I'll never be strong enough to do it. NEVER! I can't even begin to describe the horror of it all.

Soooooo - we're still together. And I'm not mad at him anymore. Everything else is just too gushy for me to repeat.

But, don't fret! The next time he does something to make me mad, you'll be the first to know.

Back To Square One

As much as I hate to admit it, My Man Out of Jail is on his way out of my good graces. Things have been pretty rocky between us as of late, and while he claims he doesn't want to break up, he not doing much to back up that claim.

Take last night for instance. He felt, without much reason, that I was ignoring him. I'm not really sure why, but he felt that way. So, he sent me a text message that said, "Fine then. I'll just ignore you. Maybe for 2 minutes, maybe for 2 days." And he did ignore me for an entire night. He said he did it just to make me mad. Isn't he sounding like a real winner?! I left a voice message that said, among other things, that when something's wrong, he needs to use his big boy words and try to communicate with me instead of acting like a preschooler. Needless to say, that didn't go over to well. Buuuut, he had it coming.

And this isn't the first time he's pulled an incredibly immature stunt like this, this just happens to be the straw...the proverbial final straw. Because a girl can only take so much.

Now, most of the time, My Man Out of Jail is a fantastic boyfriend, but lately, these little "issues" keep popping up and I can only be expected to endure a finite amount of bullsh!t before I go absolutely out of my mind.

It really is too bad, isn't it? I mean, I just think that it's a really good thing that I'm so in love with myself, or who knows how long I might put up with his crap. I think too highly of myself to allow myself to be inconveninced for this long. Yes, yes, I know it sounds harsh. But seriously!! What am I left to do? If a man can't shape up, I can't spend the rest of my life trying to motivate him to be as wonderfully centered and reasonable as I am. (Stop laughing. I really can be quite reasonable when I put my mind to it.)

*sigh*

Now, I haven't actually broken up with him as yet. We're kind of not in full communication right now. I'm sort of hoping it'll just fizzle out...although it's hard to fizzle out a year-long relationship...but no matter!! I'll find a way to fix this! As things stand, though, he's really gonna have to bust his ass to win back all of this mad spinster's good lovin'.

Tragic, isn't it? Another one bites the dust.

The Most Tragic Story You've Ever Heard

I have been working like a dog - that is if a dog got paid to sit and read a book all day. I've been on summer vacation now for a week, and I've hardly even gotten to sleep late!! It's sad, isn't it? I know that you really, really pity me and you should. I can't even remember when Judge Judy comes on. Depressing.

You see, I'm working so hard to pay off my debt, I've hardly time to do anything else. And whilst my summer lifeguarding job includes a lot of sitting, working on my tan, wearing next to nothing all day, and occasionally reading a book, I still have to go. That's the sad part. Maybe I'll feel differently when I get my first paycheck, but probably not.

So, just remember, while your working at your office desk in the air conditioning, I'm probably sitting out in the sun, by the pool, in my bathing suit, quite possibly reading a book...oh...and getting paid to do it.

Don't be ashamed to drop a tear.

The End of the School Year and Possibly the End of My Life

Well, I made it through another school year. However, unlike last year, I'm still working. *sigh* You heard right. No People's Court for me. I have to pay off the unreasonable amount of debt I've racked up by being a mad spinster. Who knew it was so expensive to be both a spinster and mad?!! Someone should have told me before I signed up for mad spinsterism.

Now on to somethings I'd like to complain about:

1. If one more person tells me that I think too much, I'm going stab them in the eye with a ball point pen. Did Aristotle think too much?!! What about Einstein?!! That's what I thought. Keep your mouth shut, flunkie.

2. I have a boyfriend now and while most of the time it's pretty great, sometimes it really sucks. Today just happens to be one of those days. *sigh* I mean, I hate to be that girl...you know...the one who's always like, "You don't DESERVE me!!! With everything I've DONE for you, and this is the THANKS I get!! Screw YOU! [Dramatic exit]" because nobody likes that girl. But, sometimes....

3. My dog's breath stinks like something crawled up inside of it and died. I really wish he could brush his own teeth.

4. I have a bunch of laundry that needs to be folded and put up. Any volunteers?? Be by my house around 2pm tomorrow. I'll leave a key under the mat. Thanks!!!

And that's it. For now. That is, if anyone is even still reading this blog, which they probably aren't and that's ok, because it's been in a coma for 4 months. But, I'll read it. And anyway, I'm my biggest fan.

Legitimate Research

There are lots of fantastic reasons to live in El Barrio. For instance, my condo was phenomenally cheap and I'm sure that the rent is equally as cheap. I live a block from a grocery store called, "Fiesta," and trust me, if you've never been to a "Fiesta" you'll want to do all you can to find one and become a regular patron! Everyday at "Fiesta" is a fiesta, and I'm putting it lightly. Other places of interest are my alley way, which is always bustling with festive tejano music and various types of business transactions, Red Coleman's Red-E-Mart, Yin's Wok, the car wash, the park next door, and J's Food Mart. All of these places offer a variety of products which one always has a use for AND possess a fascinating clientel. But none of these appealing features can surpass the one alluring element that was the reason I moved to El Barrio in the first place: Mexican tacos.



There are so many authentic Mexican taco stands in my neighborhood, it makes my mouth water everytime I drive home. And they're all so cheap! On the high end, they cost $1.35 a taco. That's $1.35 for pure heaven. They're served just like they are in Mexico with lime, cilantro, homemade salsa in fresh corn tortillas. But, which one is the best? This mystery has plagued me ever since I moved to El Barrio. And finally, this past Saturday, with a spirit of determination, my man, my neighbor and I set out to find the best taco of El Barrio.



It was a lot harder than you might think! We had to eat until we were stuffed. So many tacos...but we forged ahead...braving the possibility of our stomachs exploding. It was tough, but with careful consideration we decided unanimously that the best tacos in El Barrio were surprisingly from the gas station, Red Coleman's Red-E-Mart, as it were. Better than Fiesta, although Fiesta has tacos for only $1 a taco, and better than Tacos y Mas! (I know. With a name like Tacos y Mas, you'd think that they'd be fantastic.) But the best part of all of this, is the peace of mind that comes with being sure of my favorite taco. I mean, even though they cost about a dollar, I still want the best money can buy.

So the next time you're rollin' through El Barrio, see for yourself. You won't be dissapointed. And remember, if you have any other needs (bootleg DVDs, illegal substances, or loud tejano music) my alley way is just around the corner.

I bet your neighborhood doesn't even offer half as much.

Why Your Life Is Better Than Mine

Malaise. A malaise has crept into my eyeballs, probably a remnant of the pink eye I got a couple of weeks ago.

I know what you're thinking: "Eww. Pink eye. Only dirty people get pink eye." I oft have thought the exact same thing. But heed my warning, this line of thinking will only lead to your demise! Especially if you work with small children.

An additional reason for my malady is the weather. It's still cold. I'm so, so tired of the cold weather.

*sigh* *heavy sigh* *heavy, heavy sigh*

Shouldn't we all be hibernating during the cold weather??! Having to function in the cold is unnatural.

I don't know how people stand sub-zero temperatures without faking a 5 month coma...wait a minute...I wonder if I could do that...fake a coma...

I think I could fake a coma. I mean, I do have a theatre degree. So, how hard can it be? Just don't ever open your eyes when other people are around. Or maybe even have a series of several comas...where I am "comatose" for several days, then wake up to watch Judge Judy, then go back to sleep when doctors start talking about physical therapy and doing anything besides getting up to go to the bathroom. If I was convicing enough I'm sure no one would catch on.

Besides, I'm already sleepy. I think I'll get right on that. Don't be surprised if you don't hear from me for several days. Being in a "coma" is very consuming and I can only be expected to do so much.

okay...listen...we need to keep our voices down...

...because I'm blogging at work....and I don't want to draw attention to it just in case they take it away again...because they seem to like to take blogging at work away from me A LOT. They're meanies. Maybe this time they won't notice and I can blog forever and ever and ever at work, instead of, you know, actually working. I love not actually working.

So what's going on guys? Are you at work? Aren't you glad it's Friday? I know I am!

I don't have a whole lot to say...however, it's still the season of Kristenmans, so please don't stop thinking about me...you know, in the spirit of the season.

Merry Kristenmas!!

Today's my birthday. Because my parents are clearly crazy (I didn't get this way all by myself), my mother made up a holiday just for me!! What fun! Funny AND narcissistic! So, below, you'll find an explanation of the sacred holiday of Kristenmas. (And by the way, just because the name of the holiday is Kristenmas, it doesn't necessarily mean that my name is Kristen. You can still call me Queen. Kristen is my saint's name.)

"We are entering the season of Kristenmas (from the Spanish: more Kristen of the celebration of Kristen). For those of you who feel like FestivasfortheRestofUs has become too commercialized and exploited, I encourage yo to focus on Kristenmas. This celebration has its origin in 1980, in the United States when Queen, III was born. Silver, crochet, scented powders, lotions and U.S. Savings Bonds were among the first gifts to celebrate this occasion. Since that time the celebration has grown, until now it is celebrated by people worldwide and gifts have become more elaborate.

"Kristenmas actually occurs on January 29, but the days preceding and following are included in most cultures; however, the time frame varies country by country. In the United States, the celebrations begins January 25 and ends January 31 (the seven days of Kristenmas); however, in some African and Asian countries, the season of Kristenmas begins the 3rd Sunday after the winter solstice and continues through February 5. Most European and South American countries follow the same time period as the U.S.

"Activities surrounding Kristenmas include gatherings of families and friends, which include a variety of delicious foods; giving gifts to Kristen; watching and listening to Kristen perform; public readings of Kristen's written works; dancing; and buying large quantities of her artwork.

"Kristenmas is a time for us to withdraw form our many daily distractions and turn our attention to Kristen. It is a time for us to refrain from spending money on ourselves so that we can give gifts to Kristen. Some of the gifts that people find the most fulfillment in giving include items from Tiffany's, Neiman Marcus and Victoria's Secret; Cheesecake Factory gift cards; and environmentally friendly automobiles. If one cannot afford items this costly, it is suggested that one join with several others to give a significant gift rather than giving less meaningful items such as shot glasses.

"Kristenmas is a time to reflect on what life was like B.K. (before Kristen) and A.K.A. (after Kristen's arrival). I encourage you, this year, to take time out of your busy schedule and truly celebrate Kristenmas. Set aside time during this seven-day season to think about Kristen and you will find that the months following will be filled with thoughts of. . . Kristen."

See? Crazy is our last name.

Why So Much Food Miss Queen??

Today I ran into a couple of my 4th grade students in the grocery store. They saw me and came running up to me: "Miss Queen!! Miss Queen!! What are you doing?!"

How sweet. I love it when I see students outside of school. I was standing in line waiting to buy my groceries. Keep in mind that I haven't been to the grocery store in a month, so my basket was FULL. The boys ran off to catch up with their dad and I continued to stand in line. Apparently, I was in a slow line, because I was almost up to the moving belt, the boys hollered at me again. They were in the next line over.

"Hey, Miss Queen, are all those groceries for YOU?!!!"

"Yes, they are. Do you think it's a lot?"

"Yeah. That's a lot of groceries! They're really just for you?!"

"Yep."

"Are you sure you don't have a baby or sumthin?!"

Needless to say, I laughed and blushed, because it was both a funny thing to say and struck a tiny nerve with me, since I am the fattest memeber of my family and I do eat a lot.

"Miss Queen, why is your face turning so red??!!"

*sigh* It's hard to catch a break. I must have been heavily affected by their comments, because not two hours later, I went and bought a pair of jeans that are a size too small. I figured they would give me something to aspire to. Or stuff myself into. We shall see, won't we?!

I'm going to try not to eat all my groceries in one night, but it's hard to predict the future. I've already had 1/3 of a pizza.

Just pray I don't eat so much my stomach explodes.

Did I Die?

No. I'm not dead. Just really, extraordinarily exhausted. The last two months of 2007 were ridiculous and it was all my fault. Also, I still can't blog at work.

I realize that all two of readers probably don't even read my blog anymore. I know that I wouldn't. In fact I don't. I haven't read my blog in two and a half months. Nor I have written anything. I'm surprised I still know how to write.

So, just in case anybody cares, although I doubt anyone does, here's an update: my man is still not in jail; I'm still doing hott yoga; I still have to wake up way too early; and it's still not summertime. But, all in all, things are pretty good.

Christmastime was mediocre. We had another White Elephant Crapchange and my Mamaw's house. I can't even remember what I got, but I'm pretty sure it was so crappy I threw it away. I mean, I think that I'd rather have gotten a can of green beans. At least I could have used that.

Spending time with my family was great, but I got soooo fat. Turns out, that I'm the heaviest member of my immediate family. It's amazing I have any self-esteem at all. I mean, all the members of my immediate family are emaciated, but that's not the point. I'm fatter than my dad AND my brother!!!! It hasn't kept me from eating, though. Apparently, I want to be morbidly obese. I've heard it's good to have goals.

Advantages to Your Man Being OUT of Jail

Guys. I know hearing me complain is so much more interesting than hearing me say things that are nice. Or at least, I like complaining a lot more than I do being kindly. I realize that makes me a bad person, but whatev.

So this weekend, my man was all, "Gee. I sure wish you had TV." And I was all, "I KNOW!" And he was all, "Why don't we walk on over to the Family Dollar and get you an antenna?" And I was like, "An a-what-a?"

Turns out the thing that magically grabs channels out of the air is called an antenna!

So, we walked across the street to the Family Dollar and bought it. It cost $6. And I have 6 channels. That's 6 channels closer to heaven.

God bless my man for being so useful. And God bless me for being so pretty. And witty. And gay.

Amen.

Advantages to Your Man Being in Jail

Please don't misunderstand me! I don't want my man to go back to jail. I don't. It's just that, well, when he was in jail, there wasn't much time to be irritated with each other.

Here's the thing: generally speaking, my man is fantastic. He's sensitive, beautiful, strong, can pick me up without grunting, he likes my dog, etc., etc. But it doesn't matter how wonderful your man is, he's a man. And as long as he's a man, he will do things that are inexplicable and irritating. That's what men do. Which brings me to my point: there are certain advantages to your man being in jail.

Firstly, you always know where your man is. This is a HUGE advantage. Because, once your man is out of jail, you have to wonder where he is and what he is doing. And while you may not spend a lot of time wondering where he is and what he is doing when he is out of jail, when he's in jail, you spend NO time wondering. It's kind of nice.

Secondly, he never loves you as much as when he's in jail. Whilst your man is in jail, he is emotional. Jail is difficult (so I've been told). And any little thing you do for him is greatly appreciated. I like being appreciated. I especially like being greatly appreciated.

Thridly, you don't have to invest a lot of time. The most time you could possibly spend on your man when he's in jail is one 15 minute phone call per day and three 30 minute visitations per week. That's it!!! The rest of the time you can spend on yourself!!

Now I realize that I'm sounding a bit selfish, but isn't that what every girl wants??? A man who adores her, but who takes up relatively little of her time???? Isn't it??

Well, that's all over now. Please, please don't get me wrong. I like being able to actually touch my man, instead of having to look at him through glass. I like that he can buy me dinner and go to the movies with me. All of that is great!! But there is a certain amount of security that goes with having your man behind bars, and for me, that's gone now. However, dear reader, it's not over for you!!

Go find yourself a man (or woman) in jail!!! And then, tell me about it, so I can live vicariously through you!! Thanks in advance!

-Queen

A Tragedy of Greek Proportions (but a lot less boring)

Presumably, anyway.

Listen, I don't have TV. I don't have any channels!!! All I can watch is DVDs and/or VHS tapes.

I'm serious.

*SIGH*********

This is just the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with in all my life. I DON'T WANT TO PAY FOR CABLE! I'm just too cheap. And I wouldn't even know where to begin to look for those metal things that you put on top of your TV that grab channels out of the air. I've been seriously contemplating heading out to the alleyway and trying to "give" myself some "complementary" cable. (The cable box is in the alleyway. I don't want to cause any confusion, because there are also crack heads and real-life prostitutes in the alleyway.) Anynoodle, I just want to die all the time.

What is life without TV, I ask you????? WHAT IS IT???!!!! A broken-winged bird that cannot fly. That's what it is. It's Oedipus, wandering in the forest with his eyeballs poked out. It's Thomas Hardy, alive and well, writing the sequel to Jude the Obscure.

I long and weep for TV every evening. And whilst I do indeed love Arrested Development with all my heart, how many times can I watch the DVDs before it gets sad and a bit depressing?? How many??!!

I think I will venture out into that alleyway! Wish me luck, blogosphere! Who knows, if I stay out there long enough, I may even make a few extra bucks!

Just kidding.

Maybe.

Once Upon a Mattress...

Maybe guys really are from Venus and girls really are from Mars or vice versa or whatever. Because, upon recent reflection, I can't tell you how many times I have put two (or more) guys in awkward situations that they actually stayed in.

Possibly I'm not making myself clear:

There has been more than one occasion where I "accidentally" double booked a date. Both guys showed up and both guys (or more) stayed. Bizarre, no??

Now, if I ever showed up to a guy's place for a date, only to find a cute little number planted on his couch, I'd be out the door as fast as I could turn on my stilettos!

The first time I ever committed such a horrid dating crime, I was in college. Both guys showed up at my apartment and both guys stayed. We all ended up smokin' some reefer and things get a little fuzzy from there...
However, isn't it strange that they both stayed???!!!! Why were they not mad at me??? Why didn't they call me ugly names to my face and then storm out dramatically????!! That's what I would have done!!!

Another time (and this is all I'll be confessing to today), I was out with one guy at a bar/club. Whilst there with Guy A, I call Guy B to come along and hang out with us. Because the situation was fairly casual, I thought it would be no big deal. But between the time I called Guy B and his arrival, I got myself pretty sloshed. Mostly, I ignored both Guy A and Guy B while I went and danced with/gave my number out to other guys. Then, at the end of the night, I made it fairly clear that I wanted Guy A to "escort" me home and not Guy B. Here's where it gets fascinating: Guy B still called me the next day! As if he wasn't bothered a bit by my complete lack of etiquette!!

I say all this to say, while indeed I am frequently very badly behaved, it is only because you men let me get away with it!! Shame on you for not making me feel guilty! Shame on you for continuing to call me even after I've mistreated you so wretchedly! Grow a pair, call me ugly names to my face, and slam the door dramatically once or twice!! What is wrong with you??! I'm no Pamela Anderson. I can't really be worth all the trouble, can I?

*sigh* I probably am worth the trouble. Oh well. I guess I'll just keep on with my wild ways until one day a man comes along with the strength to slam a door dramatically in my face. And when that day comes, I'm gonna open that slammed door, tackle him to the ground, and marry him. Whether he likes it or not.