While I was out...

Adding to the blog list of really weird messages I get from online dating sites will be this gem.  While I was off in NEIowa getting my Christmas on, I received these messages:

you are hot

Oh, wow! Thanks!  I feel like if I was really down on myself, I may respond to this one...we'd have a whirlwind romance that would start with me asking if he meant, 'sweaty hot' or 'boner hot'.  He'd pick me up for our first date, knock me out with a club, throw me over his shoulder, and kidnap me.

2nd notable email missed whilest not checking messages:

wow you are seriously no bullsh*t the most beautiful woman i have EVER seen in my ENTIRE life ..why in the hell are you on a dating site? you are like "OMFG HOTT" i cant stop staring at your pics lol... i would LOOOOOVE to get to know you...may i text u?

No. You may not.  This one for serious blows me away.  How could I have known I'd have such an impact wearing a sombrero...I'm a little queezy with the idea that my picture is now stuck to the bathroom floor in some sketchy apartment somewhere....overkill.

Merry Christmas from Me!

Ok, so we all know that I'm kind of an asshole, so this is pretty much the mention I deserve.  Below is my grandma's Christmas card this year.  Granted, I don't have a lot going on that people on her Christmas card mailing list would find impressive, and everyone else in my family is an active member of society...procreating, loving one another and such....

  Initially it set off what would be one of the biggest pity parties of 2010, but then....

I get a call from my sister. She had just left my mom's where my grandma was tearing up talking about how she felt so bad for me.  When Mom and Kim inquired as to why she would feel this way, she said, well, in her Christmas card, she sounded so sad!  What? Why?!  'Her card said that she was sorry she didn't have a picture of her husband and kids to include in her card. She just sounded sad!  (This is indeed what I wrote, but not with the least bit of sincerity!)  Mom and Kim picked up on this right away....oh, no Grandma, Val's fine! My mom threw in there that perhaps if I'd answer my damn phone once in awhile, maybe I'd have myself a BF.  After hearing that my grandma was seriously sad for me, I figured I'd set the record straight.  I called grandma.  'Grandma, it's Val...I hear that there was a little confusion from my Christmas card.'  GB (Grandma Betty): Well you sounded so sad. I thought you were serious!  Me: Gosh no, if I wanted one of those pains in the ass, I'd have one!  Please, don't feel sorry for me! GB: Ohhh, ok....

So now that that's all cleared up, the initial pity party that I had planned myself is completely cleared up....oh, the holidays! 

Dear Neighbor,

You know how you've been trying to pimp out your kid for the past 4 years on the grounds that he's finally mastered mowing your lawn in less than 8 hours, so now he's ready to make some $ doing the rest of the neighborhood, I've got a better idea.

Because you see, with the exception of our nearly blind neighbor Phyllis, we're all willing and able participants in the one mow a week club, and it only takes me 35 minutes.  Soooo, rather than listen to the mower run for a constant 12 hours every Saturday, I've decided that it's in the best interest of my sanity to continue mowing my own yard....but, have you noticed the snow piling up?  Summer isn't the only season that people make money.  There are 2 less than willing snow shovelers living in this house, but I haven't seen you over here pedalling your services at all.  Kid gets out of school 2 hours before I can even think of putting my coat on or starting my drive home....how about I donate to his laptop, hookers, blow, (etc.) fund and he shovels my damn driveway so Danger doesn't have to nearly kill herself pulling the trash can up the drive...how about that?  $20. 

Sincerely,

3509

Yep, that pretty much sums me up....

Went out with Danger last night, and it turned into one of those random awesome nights that I love....had some Christmas shopping to do so we hit a couple stores before meeting some other kids at Mickey's.  It may be my new favorite warm bar...so thankful for a place that not only serves cold beverages but also believes in setting the thermostat at something higher than 47 degrees. 

So today is a typical Saturday morning at 3509.  I decided last night that I was going to do some baking for my ol friends at the dinger. I start with clearing the counter of Busch Light cans so I can get my bake on and roll out some gingerbread men...I only made gingerbread girls, btw.  I bring my laptop into the kitchen so I can crank my itunes up so I can rock out to something besides my Hillary Duff Christmas album...jamming out to angry 90's music (Green Day, Blink 182, Everclear) while wearing a high vis yellow tshirt (very domestic looking) is just about as close as you can get to summing me up in one sentence.  I take a break to download some old school country and add Desert Rose Band to my Reba playlist...break out into dance at 'One Step Forward'. 

Quick check of facebook, are you f'n kidding me. I wish there was a facebook setting that would automatically remove posts that had anything to do with a kid taking a shit in the potty, vaginal stretching due to child birth, the % effaced (don't even  want to know what this is) someone is, or the beginning of some asshole's pathetic pity party...Oh, Mark Zuckerburg, you have a lot on your to do list, don't you?  If I really wanted to know the ins and outs of childbirth, my sister told me to read Jenny McCarthy's book, apparently it's disgusting, but real.

I just wrapped a couple Christmas presents and the cookies are done....just got a text message from someone who was supposed to be out of my life....I think I'll go to the gym and play the avoidance game, once again.   Only 8 days till Kwanza!

If I was Counting today

My weight watchers food diary would say:

1 apple
1 pear
16 gingerbread cookies and a tablespoon of icing


water

Gettin Crafty In Hrrrr

Task list for the last 10 days before Christmas:

1. Start shopping

So that hasn't started, but I'll share with you what I've done.  The day after Thanksgiving I purchased myself a new flip video camera, a garment steamer, ipod speakers, ipod alarm clock radio, and a present from my dad to my sister.  Not looking so good, huh?

So today after I drank my lunch, I went back to work for an hour and then decided to run some errands. I had to run by Davids Bridal to pick up my bridesmaids dress for BFF Jamie's wedding in April, so while I was in the hood, I thought I'd skip thru JoAnn's Fabrics next door to get my craft on.  I had decided about 30 minutes earlier that instead of trying to come up with little friend/boss/colleague gifts of coffee shop gift cards, random ornaments, or candles, I'd put my thinking cap on and make some gifts from the <3...and these gifts won't  help you gain the average holiday 8 lbs.  Knowing I was in foreign territory, I text roommate and craft extraordinaire, Traci...conversation went like this:

Me: I'm at JoAnn fabrics by myself. This wasn't a very good idea.
Traci: What are you doing? you shouldn't go in without a seasoned crafter.
Me: Noted

20 minutes later, I wander out of JoAnns with $60 worth of ribbon and yarn. 3 hours later, my back hurts. I'm not going to expose what I've created for fear that one of my 7 readers may be the eventual receiver of my crafts.  Happy Honda Days, friends!

Is this real life?

Received this note from a potential suitor today:

How can I start to be a piece of your heart?

Does this guy really want me to answer honestly? Because that is the dumbest question I have ever sincerely been asked.  You can start with not asking dumb shit like that.  COME ON!

Perusing another profile if found this gem:

I know I wouldn't want to date an obese girl who relies on public transportation.

HILARIOUS!  Actually emailed this guy because he had this in his profile.  I'll let you know how that goes. 

Always' Slogan is Dumb

You know those disgusting new commercials about toilet paper that talk about getting real about toilet paper.  They have 5 or 6 different women on there that talk about how it has to make you feel clean??? yech....well, I have a new marketing campaign for Always - yes, the personables (maxi pads for everyone that isn't my mom) maker...

Their current tag line is, 'Always. Have a happy period.'

I came up with something better, and more 'real'.  How about,

'Always. Because an unhappy period is better than no period at all.'

I think that thought makes me get over the cramps and moodswings a lot faster than some bitch and her silly smile.

Pick A New Role Model

Time to jump around on a soap box.  First off, we know that I'm not a sports fan. I grew up in a household where we didn't watch sports, it wasn't a part of our lives. I believe my dad legitimately, for real, dislikes 'sticks and balls' if their sole purpose is to run around on a field and score points. He doesn't get it, and apparently he's passed his distaste onto me.  Secondly, I grew up a dork.  Not like completely socially inept, but definitely not one of the cool group.  Those kids played sports and had parents that cared about Guess Jeans and Nikes. Where am I going with this? Hold on. 

So yesterday some kid who plays football for the University of Iowa, who goes by DJK (sounds like a serial killer) was arrested on drug charges, we've all heard the story before, etc., etc.  Click here for The Story. But here's where I got really annoyed, facebook was inundated with comments from fans about how disappointed they are (he's apparently a star player) as well as this comment: *unnamed friend* 'finds it frustrating when the person your kid looks up to sets a terrible example. Way to Go DJK.' 

Ok, I recognize where this mother may be frustrated, but perhaps there needs to be some better role models  in everyone's lives.  Think about it for a minute. Try to come up with just a couple famous people, athletes, political figures, etc. that have remained positive figures throughout their lives.  This is difficult, so I'll give you some time...  The problem with fame is that once someone realizes that they have some sort of power, resilience, or can get by with things that normal people wouldn't, it goes to their heads and they make really dumb decisions.  Others who shouldn't be considered choices for your role models: Mylie Cyrus, Lady Gaga, anyone who's had multiple plastic surgeries (unless its reconstructive because of an ape attack), Kanye West, etc.

Case in point, (clearly not one of my political idols) John Edwards.  I know this is old news, but in light of the past day's events, what a piece of crap! Who the hell thinks that in this day in age they can get by with such BS being in the spotlight?  I truly hope for his sake that he's sought forgiveness for his indiscretions.  33 years of marriage to what appeared to be a wonderful woman, only to screw around on her with some floozy who gets knocked up, and for it all to unfold in the media.  He deserves any and all guilt that he's dealing with.  Watching the news coverage of the passing of Elizabeth Edwards saddens me.  She didn't want her legacy to be one of her husband's affair, or to be defined by her struggle with cancer, she wanted to be remembered by her family as a strong mother and friend, which I hope and believe she will be.

My role models?  Family members who have personally set impressive examples time after time. Parents who taught respect and demanded it.  Professional colleagues who have put the time and effort into creating their success and didn't get anything handed to them for just showing up.  Why look up to someone who doesn't personally care about your success as much as you of theirs. I'm not perfect, and I don't want to come off like I think I am, but I couldn't sleep, so you got myobnoxiousPOV.

"I have found that in the simple act of living with hope, and in the daily effort to have a positive impact in the world, the days I do have are made all the more meaningful and precious. And for that I am grateful."

   ----- Elizabeth Edwards'

My Wheel Of Fortune Introduction

Would go a little like this.....

Pat:  Sooooo, We've got Val Hageman, 29 years old from Des Moines, Iowa?!
Me: Yep. (Smiley Face)
Pat: Married woman, are ya?
Me: Nope, just a wild single lady.
Pat: Oh, got any pets?
Me: Nope, can't stand them, they get all up in my space.
Pat: Huh, so what do you do in your spare time?
Me: Well, I spend a great deal of time judging strangers at my gym, surfing the web, and stalking facebook friends.
Pat: Oooookkay, well, we wish you the best of luck tonight.
Me: Thanks!  Let's goooo wheeeeeellll!

Office Holiday Party Advice

Moons ago, a very smart co-worker gave me this valuable bit of advice:

'Have fun at the Christmas party, but do yourself a favor, don't be the drunkest person there.' 

Do you know how many times I've reflected on this and realized, 'woah, that guy was smart!'?  Because you know what, during the days following, even if you were a close 2nd or 3rd, you can be damn sure that the gossips around the office are still yapping about #1.

Also, a side note...when you take the 'office' out of the holiday party, I say go hog wild.  Case in point, my Ugly Christmas Sweater Party.  I was in my own home drinking wine usually reserved for camp fires. There was a game of shot checkers being played on my coffee table, a football game being shown in the spare bedroom, and an aggressive game of invent a shot going on in the kitchen.  Fast forward 7 hours and I wake up in my bed still clad in my jumper, turtle neck, red tights, as well as my jingle bell bracelet and necklace....there are still rumors going around about an incident where I choked on a baby dill pickle while other party goers were apparently trying to get me to throw up by spinning me around in a chair...but like I said, these allegations are still alleged and no one has proof. 

Merry Christmas to all!

news stranger than fiction

Today's Link of Interest

So this girl is apparently one with my own heart and soul.  If I could post this on certain men of interest's facebook pages or email it directly to them I would be bored and have nothing to bitch about at home.  It would also remove the passive from my passive aggressive behavior, and then you'd just be stuck with a bitter bitch when things continue to not go my way.  But who isn't already used to that anyway?

10-ways-guys-can-ensure-a-date-is-a-success-before-it-even-begins

I Feel Good About Junk

Another recycled blog post...originally from August of 2009, I was apparently watching a lot of reality tv at the time....

Oh, reality shows...So I tried watching More to Love last night while I was at the gym...fortunately for me the closed captioning wasn't working, so I changed the channel...farrrr too many bawling girls. Why do girls on reality shows cry constantly? No wonder they're freaking single. Who wants to deal with an emotional wreck all the time?! The reality show tear wipe away goes a little like this, fingers splayed apart, hands out in front of them, fanning the tears away....as if this pose makes them look less desperate. When the Rock of Love girls break down into a tear-soaked mess, they've got 3 ounces of eyeliner and a pool of lip gloss adding up under their faces. WAH!

Then we've got Megan wants a Millionaire. What a fantastic idea. Unfortunately for me, I feel as tho I've dedicated a number of years of my life to her stupidity. First she showed up on Ashton Kutcher's social experiment, Beauty and the Geek...pretty sure she didn't learn anything there, so she moved onto Rock of Love with Bret Micheals (who, btw hasn't managed to find his 'rock of love' yet, I believe season 4 starts soon), and then to I Love Money on VH1. Combine Megan's love of the spotlight, money, and men....clearly she deserves her own show dedicated to her Sugar Daddy needing ways. The best part about this show is that it doesn't in any way disguise it's appalling goal. Find money-hungry Megan someone who is moderate to severely handicapped in the ways of finding girls the old fashioned way and happens to be worth millions of dollars. She doesn't give a shit if they're so gay their clothes are on fire, as long as there's a pile of money in their Gucci shoes, she's all in, unless, I suppose someone with half a brain cell suggests one of these ding dongs get a pre-nup.

And then someone has the sense to post on his facebook status this morning....a wise man once told me to treat girls like dirt, and they'll stick to you like mud....touche', my friend. Touche'.

Wardrobe Malfunctions

Originally posted October 7, 2009
Head, Shoulders, Knee's and Toes, Knees and Toes

I'm a tall girl. Some brain-frozen males have accidently used the word 'big' to describe me (to my face!), and while I have the capacity to understand that it's an easy mistake to make, I've always managed to keep my faculties together and know better than to call a man, 'small!?!!' Anyway, my point is, other descriptive words would be appreciated. So where was I going with this? Oh, yeah....wardrobe malfunctions. I've had more than I can possibly think of on the fly, but I'll humor you with a few highlights (Hell, I'll start at the top):

Head....I was growing out my hair until my hairdresser sister told me that upper 20's ladies need not have hair half way down to their ass. Before she got her way to take off 12 inches, I managed to catch a section of hair in my sunroof while buzzing down the interstate. That f'n hurts, btw. And while I have a very good self-depricating sense of humor, once in awhile I appreciate a little bit of sympathy when describing how I have a bald spot :( boo, wah....

Shoulders....you know that jacket you have in your closet, the one that you think has that perfect, classic style. Well, it doesn't. If you've left a fave piece of clothing in your closet thru more than 3 moves, it's likely that it's not in style anymore. Last week a co-worker was telling me how she pulled out a hoodie (not the word used when this garment was originally created) that was her fave back in the day. She said when she got it out of her closet she hardly recognized it. This, last decade, staple item had a cinched waist and shoulder pads that made her look like a linebacker. I thought this was hilarious. Until, I pulled out my black jacket that I bought in NYC while on a high school trip in the late 90's. P.S. Shoulder pads are no longer a good look for me either. I hope to see a semi-stylish homeless woman wearing it next spring.

Bottom Half....So, my waist hits kinda high, and on more than one occasion I've been high-tailing it out the door in the morning and turn away from my screen door, just to be instantly stopped in my tracks because my belt loop has caught on the door handle. Really?

And another...have I mentioned that I'm vain? So I was walking out of the restroom at volleyball one night, took a quick glance at my rear view, which by the way, on a good day, is not something to write home about (but it's genetic, I come from a long line of flat asses...and I accept it)....anyway, what do I see? The drawstring of my shorts. What the f, I say to myself. Why would the drawstring be in the back...well, that's because I had my shorts on backwards. My friends suck...why did no one notice this? Do you think it was because they were too focused on making sure I had my shirt on right-side out?

Have you ever found the most perfect fitting pants ever, so you buy them in every color? Well, I did this last week. I was sooo happy. Until I put them on with a belt only to realize that pair numero dos was constructed in such an awkward fashion that the zipper veered to the right so dramatically that the button came together at least 2 inches to the right of center (belly button, belt buckle, etc.). How the hell do I take those back? 'Um, miss. Scuse me, but I bought these pants last week and the button doesn't line up with my body.' As I type this scenario out, I can only imagine that I would somehow roll my ankle and fall down, and she would go back to all of her boutique bitch friends and tell them how this wack job with some kind of unfortunate palsy was in here whining about how our pants were off center. Puh-lease!

Knees, oh, my poor knees. Last week I was trotting around in some pointy-toed, unnecessarily high heels, walking up the steps to my house, got one of the ridiculous heels stuck in between the deck boards, go flying to the ground, with only the force that gravity can cause. Poor, poor knees.

Feet. So, as I started this rambling diatribe...I'm a big girl. My feet are big too. But not the biggest. Most reading this will never feel my pain, but first a fact. Women's shoe sizes include half sizes until 9-1/2, then it just goes 10 to 11. As if feet stop growing just a little bit after 9-1/2. Well, my foot has always been tight in a 10 and slips out of an 11. Kiss my ass, shoe designers. Who made up these rules anyway? I'm guessing someone who wears an 8-1/2 or 9-1/2 and found no reason to humor the sad girls wearing boats on their feet. I mean, hell. Why shouldn't my nearly 6' frame be wandering around in shoes that don't fit? Please see previous 'Knee' paragraph.

Weight Watchers is stupid

A couple of years ago, I stumbled on the fact that nutritionally, Busch Light was the healthiest alternative of most light beers (Miller Lite, Bud Light, Mich Ultra, etc.) because even tho others may tout that they are low carb, Anheuser Busch in their infinite wisdom has saved their marketing dollars and left it up to intelligent Hagemans like myself to figure it out on their own.  

Back to the topic at hand, weight watchers just changed their points system, which appears to be a move to encourage healthier choices.  After a brief investigation, I've found that most foods have gone up in points, fruits and vegetables pretty much =0, but everything else is more.  Most beers mentioned above were previously 2 points, now they're 4...except Busch Light, it's only 3!  I will cheat the system after all!  You see, I go with my own system.  I work out, and don't eat more than I'm supposed to, then I take my 49 point slush fund (the wiggle room) and don't worry about my weekend activities.  They thought they'd hold me to 12.25 discretionary drinks, but no...choosing the healthier Busch Light option, I get 16.33. I will make it thru the holiday season after all!

Not to mention, I just had a wretched lunch of Healthy Choice Turkey Marsala...= 6 points.  Not satisfying at all.  But 20 minutes before lunch, I had 2 Andes Candies cookies = 5 points....I should have just had 4 cookies instead and saved myself the 6 minutes of microwave electricity used. 

Thoughts of the day...

12: 27 p.m....ALL I WANT IS A GUY THAT WILL PUT AIR IN MY TIRES AND WATCH CRIMINAL MINDS WITH ME!  This meltdown came after I broke a nail trying to unscrew the cap off the stem on my tire.  My fingers were freezing and I gave up....right after I told my aunt that I wasn't an idiot, I could put air in my tires.  Annoyed, I went back to the office, stole the receptionist's needle nose pliers and drove myself to the 2nd Casey's of the day, and put more than the recommended amount of air into said tire...it'll probably be low again tomorrow.

5:45 p.m....Walk into spin class.  There's a different teacher and an odd group of dudes in there tonight.  Whatever, I'm here, I'll ride it out.  Until about 10 minutes in I'm overwhelmed with the unacceptable stench of BO.  Not to mention the playlist was Celine Dion on crack, horrible.  So I got off my bike and walked out...back to the treadmill.

6:45 p.m....on my way home and staaaaarrrrrrving.

Awesome email of the day

Since my family's Thanksgiving was held a week early due to my cousin getting married the real Thanksgiving weekend in Mexico, I'll be flying solo in DM for Turkey Day.  My generous boss has invited me to crash her small family gathering, I accepted. It'll be fun...I like to witness other people's families in action...

Anyway, she sent her stepdad an email giving him a heads up that she was inviting her co-worker.  He responded with:

'Just so I won’t be surprised, is this Valerie a negro?'

Hilarious! I'm about as white as one can get.  Gotta love old people.  I can't wait until I'm old and can dispose of my pesky filter!

From the Archive.

So, there used to be this amazing blog I started with my awesome roommate...it was supposed to be a secret, but I had a lapse in judgment, and revealed myself...and then in a moment of sheer terror, I deleted the entire thing.  Below are a couple of my posts from the initial blog. 

 

Haven't I Met You Before?

I was telling a couple man friends this story this past weekend and realized that it may be blogworthy.

One of my more talked about dates has been Justin. His name has not been changed to protect his identity, because his texting skills mimic those of a stalker. This has been a few months ago, like Hockey season, so lets call it Christmas/New Yearsish. Anyway, I'd been chatting with this pictureless dude for a couple days, and finally asked him to send me a pic, not that I'm superficial, but, yes. I am. He asked if he could text me it, because he didn't have any recent pictures on his parent's computer because it was too old. Red flag, yes, but these types of things can be explained away with proper grammar. So he sends me a picture. It's acceptable. But now he's got my phone number and apparently with it comes the confidence to use it whenever he finds the time.

Yes, so this was Christmas 2009 and it was a wretched weather situation going on....so I went home a few days before Christmas and Justin was texting me all kinds of stupid crap that I must have been in the mood to be accepting of...until this winner. I tell him that I'm at my sister's house in the middle of northeastern Iowa for the rest of the week, so our date that was supposed to have happened before the holiday season was going to have to be postponed. He said that was alright, because that's what the Christmas season is all about, and I quote, 'family and God'. Now, I'm not going to for one minute deny my faith in Jesus, my Catholic upbringing, or my current believer status, but this 'relationship' was still very in the 'I haven't met you stages!' and typically people aren't name dropping their religious beliefs at this point. And I'm pretty sure, the following day he sent me a picture of his little dogs, thinking that could possibly impress me...clearly, this idiot does not know me.

Anyway, with all this aside, Christmas passes, and I'm back in Des Moines after a truely blessed Christmas with the family. I must have given in and decided to go out with him shortly after New Years. He's a youth hockey coach, and 'works at a dental office' west of Des Moines. So we agree go to a Bucs game...meet at a bar across the street about a half hour before the game...let me point out right now that I thought something was weird about him within 6 minutes of shaking his hand. But we go to the game, and he's telling me about whats going on in the game....which is actually appreciated since I don't typically know anything about this sportsy stuff....but he's talking hockey crap out the side of his mouth, like he's sharing inside secrets that the rest of the drunken crowd shouldn't hear. Whatever....we make small talk....things are getting weirder. I ask him about his job, 'working in a dental office'. I ask him, what do you do in this dental office? He's a dentist, just didn't want to put it in his profile because he didn't want money hungry hoe's after his bank roll. Whatever, dipshit. Things are getting excessively weirder right now, and I'm probably 4 beers into the evening, which is where my acceptance skills kick in and my fight or flight dissappears. We end up going to a bar afterwards (duh). Continue on with the small talk. By the end of the night I'm quizzing him on who he went to school with at Iowa. We have a friend in common. I must have asked him at this point if I had met him before (at least 6 times), and he is vehemently denying my accusations. I conjure up a number of situations in which I may have met him before...I explain each crazy sounding story in detail. Nope, Justin says, I don't think I've met you before.

Well, how about this one....We've gone out before! 1 date, 2005ish, while he was in dental school. I met him at Drink, and we went to a Mexican restaurant out by Jordan Creek Mall. After dinner he wanted to go on a walk around the stupid pond and hold hands. I thought for sure he was gay. But he proceeded to text and call me constantly afterwards, I did not respond to any of his requests back then....but this time was a different beast. I was older, and more experienced in the ways of the world, I vowed to consider giving it a shot.

We say our goodbyes (yes, for the second 1st time) and I tell him that I'll talk to him again soon. It was the booze talking. The next day, I believe he text me 6 times before I was out of my 12:45 massage appointment. I finally responded with a very clear, 'YOUR PERSISTANCE IS ANNOYING THE SHIT OUT OF ME'. And yes, he responded promptly with something painfully desparate. No, we did not go out again...but talk to me again in 2014.

And this is why you should never delete a phone number out of your cell. Crazy people have a way of accidently wandering back into your life. Had I already had his number when I received that fateful first picture, I would have known to fall off the face of Beaverdale waaaay sooner.

Shit....happened :(

So, when things turn out to suck as bad as you were afraid they would.....then what? I just got my fragile little heart broken ;( This doesn't happen very often because I rarely let anyone in close enough to do so...but it happens I guess. My stomach hurts. I feel like i got simultaneously punched in the face and stomach. I cried like a big huge baby, at my favorite bar. Like weeping. It didn't help that I was about 4 hours into a drunken night of ridiculous proportions....when I woke up this morning I bawled some more, and then I told my story a couple times and bawled some more. I feel like a big pile of ass....but now its time to find my smiley face and happy pants. Date night....no more cryin. I wish I were a baseball player.

And Then, I went on a date with a stripper.

And now he seems to be like Visa, everywhere I want to be.

I'm not sure what I was thinking. I knew before I went out with Kevin that he was an 'entrepreneur' and owned his own party bus service, that was like no where else in town. Ok, I'll bite, I thought. So I think this was a Sunday night date at Starbucks. He was like 6'7" tall and I was intrigued. I think this may have been the day after I typed the blog entitled, 'it happened :(' Not one of my happiest days.

Anyway, so he was strangely against meeting for alcoholic drinks...which is weird. I just wish Starbucks would suck it up and get a liquor license. At least that way the next time someone wants to meet me there I can go early and get an Irish Coffee or at least some Bailey's with my caffeine! He opened with a 15-20 minute story about how an ex girlfriend back in the day was a drug dealer, and since the money was so good, he joined her in some multi-state drug dealing business....and got busted. Prison stories are entertaining, btw. He was nothing if not interesting and colorful. Turns out after he got out of the big house, he attempted to get jobs everywhere, and this economy being the way it is, there just wasn't a lot available. So he decided to take advantage of his newly buff bod (he used his time wisely while he was in prison fending off the boys). He just so happened to be in prime shape to take it all off for a living. Just to be honest, he's a stripper broker which is the professional jargon for P.I.M.P. If you happen to be in any city in this great nation and google, "strippers in 'My Town USA'", he's got his biznass website set up to be one of the first websites that pops up. He's got a network of strippers all over the country that he's waiting to dispatch to your night of debauchery. He put my dingy stories to shame.

So there we are, sitting at Starbucks on a Sunday night exchanging stories about prison, drug deals gone bad, and the booming stripping business while cute college students sip their coffee and try to concentrate on their Calculus, meanwhile I can see their raised eyebrow and tweaked ear. I don't know how that date ended, possibly with an extremely awkward hug and a, 'Hey, I'll talk to you later! This was fun. We should do it again!' Who believes this shit?

Anyway, I may have talked or text him a few times after that date, he was hot, and I was kind of impressed that I could pull such a hot piece of a$$ (i didn't!), but I could have. Not the point. Clearly, what stopped me from pursuing this mess was the vision in my head of introducing him to my parents and grandparents. Sure, I'd have some dismayed cousins, and a couple others that might try to hide that they were impressed, but hell. I just couldn't spin the 'Entrepreneur' story quite far enough for it to be acceptable. I understand he was doing all he could do with his ex-con past lingering all over his job applications, and he wasn't interested in skanks.....but sorry, I'm just not your girl.

Anyway, a second meeting just wasn't in the cards. He always wanted me to come to his house, or him to my little hut (not happening)....strippin ain't easy, but I hear it's lucrative. Take a girl out!

His lack of enthusiasm for going to have a drink really confused me once I started running into him on random weeknights at bars in the 515...I think I may have even stopped going out with R3 during the week because I only saw him when I was with her. One night we were checking out a band downtown, and he lingered behind me for a very uncomfortable amount of time (felt like 2 hours). Then another night at Wellmans he was wearing a baby tee, size XS on his massive muscular frame, and couldn't be missed. Bloody Hell. I spend these nights staring at the opposing wall and making eye contact with people's shoes.

I wonder if I can get pics off of POF to post along with these stories?