Category Archives: Life Moments
Two fail dates and several conversations with POF “matches” later we come to fail date number three which is sadly not as interesting but probably the fail-y-est of fails. He, as a person, I’m sure, is a very fine specimen of male…just not the specimen for me.
Fail Date Guy #3
To begin with I knew he wasn’t my type based on his pictures but, as I said in Step #1, I was trying to be more open minded and had not yet learned from my mistake in Step #1 so I wasn’t listening to the little voice in my head that kept erupting into paroxysms of laughter over my complete lack of dating competence. Want to know the only reason I even answered his message on POF? Because he was tall. I swear. That was the only reason. Clearly this was doomed from the beginning. I didn’t find him attractive, didn’t particularly like the conversations we had, and it took him a good three weeks to finally ask if I wanted to meet up. Usually I get so fed up with carrying on in long conversations that I suggest meeting up after only a few exchanged messages; but for some reason, with him, I let it slide. Okay, really! Barely a paragraph into this and I already realize this was all my fault. Poor guy…never stood a chance. As Mr. Perfect pointed out to me in a recent discussion I am the bitch, the men are all fine. I couldn’t deny that one, I knew it was the truth, but these still make for interesting reads. And, honestly, who does that? And by “that” I mean the things I pick out to share with you lucky readers! Please, comment with corrections if I’m wrong, but what these guys do isn’t kosher, is it? (If you haven’t read Step #1 and Step #2 yet, please do and let me know because I am genuinely curious. Am I just asking too much? Is this in fact normal male behavior?)
So, three weeks and an uncomfortable amount of superficial conversation later, we have a date set up that we both agree will be very short. He didn’t explain why he wouldn’t stay long but I knew I didn’t want it to go on for very long because of fail dates #1 and #2 – subtlety is not my strong suit and the longer I am around someone that I dislike the more difficult it becomes to hold on to the few tiny shreds of restraint I have remaining. I become blunt with unfiltered speech which translates into being a royal, haughty bitch. It’s actually quite impressive if you are used to my usual bubbly, affable self. I can switch bitch mode on and off quickly, it’s a gift!
As soon as I got off work I headed to the meeting place that I had to come up with since, apparently, POF men are incapable of making decisions. There I sat, alone at the bar, hoping that the hour I had to wait for him to get off work would pass swiftly and painlessly. The bar began to fill up and soon I was not sitting alone and happy, I was instead flanked by one foul smelling gentleman and one obnoxious frat-tastic bachelor suffering a mid-life crisis. Where before I had been content texting my soulmate and joking about how odd it must look for someone to be sitting alone and talking/laughing to themselves, I was now dealing with attempting to not overhear the crude comments coming from Mr. Mid-Life Crisis and practicing breathing through my mouth so I would be able to finish my beer without gagging off the stench emanating from the foul smelling gentleman.
Not soon enough my date informed me that he was finally off work and headed my way but asked how the bar was…how was the bar? Well…how to put it? I believe I responded with something like, “it was good when I got here but it is getting crowded. I am no longer sitting alone!” Being the gentleman that he was he suggested switching venues and asked if I had any suggestions. Sure. Why not? Let me make another decision for you, dear sir.
I hadn’t planned on taking him to my bar knowing all that would occur was judgment from my friends but I was already fed up with him so I gave my suggestion. He agreed quickly enough but confessed he didn’t know where it was (even though he had already mentioned that he worked down the street from it…meaning he passed it every day) so he would still meet me where I was and then he would follow me to the final destination. (<– get it?!? okay, okay, I know. I’m a dork.)
As I continue to sit at the bar I shift my gaze between the bartender whose attention I am desperately attempting to capture and the door whose opening and closing could potentially mean time for a great escape from my none too pleasant neighbors. Twenty minutes later my tab is paid, my glass is empty, and I no longer care who is walking through the door because all I want to know is how it is taking him so long if he was actually where he said he was. And then my phone buzzes. It’s him. He is sitting in the parking lot waiting for me to come out.
What. The. Fuck?
The minute I open the door I see him in his champagne compact, idling across the way, staring at his phone. Feeling a tad creepy I walk up to his window and cough to get his attention. After pointing out my car and once again establishing that he would follow me, we make our exit. Unfortunately it was prime traffic time and what should have take five minutes took twenty and I had lost all patience by the time parking was completed.
Upon finally picking out a booth and ordering our drinks I was able to fully observe (and, if I am being COMPLETELY honest, judge) my newest suitor. There was unfortunately nothing I found attractive about him. Generally beards give me a little happy feeling in my nether regions but this one was attached to a face that I couldn’t even invent any good will towards. He reminded of my moms best friend’s husband growing up. This is not good. Not good at all. You don’t want someone that reminds you of the father of your first ever crush (I was young and he was older and basically the only male I knew since I was home schooled and spend 90% of my time in the gym practicing gymnastics…it’s awkward, I know) in almost every way including the way his lips slowly moved across his disturbingly large teeth as he smiled. Or smirked. I honestly couldn’t distinguish.
I can’t say that the conversation was in any way lacking but what was lacking was his ability to show emotion. He had one face and he kept it on practically the whole time. The only effect alcohol had on him was to make his mouth open just a tad bit wider when he spoke as if the more he opened his mouth the funnier he would be because he seemed amused by himself when this would happen. Somehow we made it so far in conversation that my Elf showed up to work and we ended up moving from the booth to the patio bar where she was working. At this point his charm really began to work its magic. You know that line that every bartender has heard more than once on a daily basis. The one that makes everyone around the offending person it groan? The one that goes a little something like, “you don’t need a tip! You get to look at me!” The look Elf and I shared could have turned him to stone had we made better use of it.
And then, after his knee slapper he throws his head back and lets out a high pitched cackle which I think was supposed to be a laugh but it was so disturbing that I immediately attempted to eliminate all memory of it. Clearly it didn’t work. I will never forget the sound that man made. I fear for my personal and physical safety. THIS is my dating life…
When I just couldn’t take any more, and we each had three shots and shared chips and queso, I decided to end the date. And then this happened: I was given the honor of paying for everything that we had consumed both liquid and solid at the patio bar. I am one lucky girl. Can I tell you how much I enjoy paying for things that other people ordered for me? It tickles my fancy! Also, I wanted to kill him. Once again though, as with Fail dates #1 and #2, he did not get the hint. He texted me on the way home and said he had a great time and would love to do it again. I responded with, “I don’t really think so. Sorry.” And that was the night I decided I was done with dating. Period! Over it!
Until the next guy that came up to me at the bar *coughcough* I keep my word so well…
So, where does this leave us?
Step 3: When you feel absolutely no connection to the person and you can’t for the life of you pick out one redeeming quality about the person after an hour, go home. Don’t waste either one of your time. Quit while you’re ahead and admit defeat. It is much better than spending $60 dollars at the end of the night on a person who makes a pretty good doppelganger for every corporate America clone in existence. There is nothing wrong with admitting that you don’t like a person.
Now that I have proved that dating is not my cup of tea I think cutting my losses would be a good idea. That is until I meet this next guy that will bring me to fail date #4. He is the best one yet. Mr. Perfect LOVED this guy!! It was a mutual attraction.
May your week be filled with blasphemous actions, sanguine expectations, and lost inhibitions.
An excerpt from one of my novels:
There was a party that night. There was a party almost every night, but this one was different. Everybody we knew was at this party, gathered together in an intimately large crowd of faces and names that few cared to remember but all knew. We passed by each other throughout the night – a light brush of the hand here, an exchanged glance there, a shiver of longing stretching across the space – never stopping to say hello. Words fell out of people’s mouths falling onto the ground in a cacophonous thunder – twenty six letters collecting on the floor in a strange new menagerie of words that none of us understood.
As the raucous party grew to an unbearable din it ended suddenly, a collective nod to the silently agreed upon expulsion of a raucous affair that never had a purpose but always came to fruition at the end of what some face or another would proclaim was “one hell of a day.” The after effects of liquor leaving piles of bodies haphazardly strewn around the apartment – the unexplainable fallout of a night that would be remembered only upon waking eyes blinking into focus a room that was not theirs; a partner they had no recollection of acquainting themselves with; a memory they will forever be searching for.
We united in the hall, our unspoken words screaming out, echoing through the apartment. Falling onto the bed we tore at each others clothes, desperate for a feeling we both knew we would not find. His eyes searched my face as hungrily as mine searched his finding solace in our shared emptiness. We were all each other had. All each other wanted. Our passion grew in immensity as the sun pounded its unforgiving rays through our curtains, spotlighting our deception.
The sound of my heartbeat threatened to burst my eardrums as we stared at each other in a state of mental and physical exhaustion. I saw his mouth open as three words spilled out and fell upon the space in the bed between us, forming a pool of empty desire. My mind screamed, “what is love?” My lips parted, but the words got stuck in my throat. What came out startled both of us. “I love you, too.” An unnoticed inflection at the end trailing off into the dark chasm of misunderstanding that would live between us forever. There is no question in love.
He moved his calloused hand over the curves of my body, laced his fingers through mine, and pulled me close. Our legs intertwined, our souls met in the middle. Nothing between us but naked lies etched upon our scared hearts. A beautiful duality of lies and truths created the world around us. Created our lives. Created our love.
Having writers block is about as much fun as stubbing your toe repeatedly. Lately, each attempt at putting pen to paper (both figuratively and literally) has resulted in both a lack of imagination as well as a lack of vocabulary. My entire curse word patois came into full force and I felt as though I could have put a few sailors to shame yet not one iota of what I wrote was usable which made for a confused, frustrated, and rather bitchy me. It is quite similar to PMS…just, you know, without the cramps and cravings. And finally today during my eleven hour work day my thoughts ran rampant and suddenly the ability to write came back to me in full force. But that’s how it happens, isn’t it? When you want to do it, you can’t. When you are busy doing something else and are completely consumed in your work, BAM!, inspiration hits and has a good laugh at it’s perfectly inconvenient timing. So, as well as adding to one of my scripts I decided it was time to try writing another blog and see how it will work out. Fingers crossed that I can finish this and not leave in in draft-land where so many other reside.
I could spout out several reasons for why I have not been blogging lately but the long and short of it is that I haven’t been okay. There was a buildup of sadness and near depression for several weeks leading up to my second psychotic episode ever. This one happened to be a few days after the anniversary of my first one last year that landed me in the E.R. with a terrifyingly insufficient recollection of what exactly had happened. Luckily this episode wasn’t as severe but the next morning my memories felt like a movie I had watched. They weren’t my own. It was like I was in another person’s head watching their memories and remembering their thoughts and feelings. That is the best way I can describe it other than scary as fuck.
There has been such a buildup of negativity that it has left me exhausted. I sleep like I’m depressed, I have to force myself to eat because I have no energy to do it, I have no appetite, and get a little nauseous every time I smell food cooking. I rarely want to go out and do anything anymore because just the idea of doing something makes me tired. I think about telling someone that I want to talk but I don’t even know what I would say so I just don’t. I pretend like everything is okay; I’m doing just fine thankyouverymuch! I take it when someone yells at me for being sad or in a mood when they think it is because of them since I don’t even have the energy or words to explain to them what may be going on. I can’t even really place the emotion. I’m not sad or depressed or upset or angry or indifferent or unhappy…I’m just slightly empty. Good things happen to me and it doesn’t even occur to me to share the good news with anybody. I keep most of it to myself and the person that I do tell doesn’t really care because….well, because. So here I am. Empty, and unsure why. I can come up with a few reasons as to why I may feel this way but it will all be mostly conjecture. I mean, can you always explain why you feel a certain way when there is so much traffic in your brain that you no longer know which way is left?
The strangest part about all of this is something that I realized today. Through all of this I have kept my hope and faith. I still love life. I have a childlike wonder about everything and I love making new memories every day. Because that’s all we have, really. You can’t live in the past, you have to leave that behind you because if you don’t you will miss out on what is happening in the present. And you can’t live in the future because you never really know what will happen and if you focus on what you may or may not have you could miss out on what is currently happening. I have faith in people and I still I have hope that everything will end up okay. I wish I could hand this hope and faith over to my friends who are going through difficult times and have neither, but I can’t. Instead I will continue to hold on to it for them until they are ready to accept it again. I don’t think there is any reason not to have faith or hope because they make everything better. The only reason you shouldn’t have them is if you like being miserable. And I would know this because being miserable used to be my thing but for the first time in my life I am not letting the misery get to me. I will not let it take over. I refuse. I accept that I will have bad times in my life, that I may not always be the overly peppy girl that I have become, but I will never let depression take over my life again.
So, while I am really, very not okay, I do still have certain days that are fantastic….
A perfect example of this would be Saturday – even though the week had sucked so much I cried at work three days in a row due to a few choice words from a friend who apparently knows me so well that they know exactly what to say that will hurt me the most (let’s ignore the fact that I shouldn’t let words effect me, okay?) – I woke up hyper, happy, and high on life. Maybe it was because I had cried myself to sleep at eight the night before and spent 12 restless hours in bed or maybe it was because I realized that I was not at fault for what I had been blamed for, but for some reason everything seemed like it was going to be okay. And it was, for the most part. I attended a wedding with Mr. Perfect before we headed to the Rangers vs. Red Sox game and everything was fine until the vows were exchanged. The word “forever” was thrown around and my stomach lurched. I’m sure I have said it before but I will say it again: I don’t think I could ever get married, and it isn’t because I don’t think I could be with someone forever, it’s because I don’t trust that anybody would keep their word and stick around forever. People always leave. They just do. But I deserve better than that. I don’t ever want to feel the same kind of pain and betrayal as I have felt from every person I have been in a relationship with. If you are special enough for me to want to give my everything to, then I deserve the same from you. Loving a person is the easy part, it’s caring enough to stay that is difficult, apparently. So, until I find someone who realizes that I’m worth sticking around for, I will continue to hold back my trust.
*cough cough* Back to Saturday…
After the 5:30 vows were exchanged and congratulations were attempted to be given Mr. Perfect and I beelined to the parking lot to change in the car before heading to our much anticipated 7:05 baseball game. I had so much going on in my head at this point that I was afraid I had lost my hyper-ness and, for most of the drive, I had. But, true to myself, it appeared out of nowhere once again and as we were walking into the park Mr. Perfect informed me that I was special. Not the hey-you-are-an-amazing-person-and-I’m-so-glad-to-have-you-in-my-life! kind of special, but the damn-they-had-a-designated-short-bus-for-you-didn’t-they? kind of special. Yeah…because apparently people don’t skip around, break into song and dance, or name their bobby pins. This is something “special” people do. I’m special like V.I.P. damnit! And my bobby pins agree. Mostly Rosencrantz but that’s only because he thinks quite highly of himself and claims that he wouldn’t fraternize with anybody beneath him. But, I mean, he’s a bobby pin…I probably shouldn’t consider his opinion.
Baseball, beer, ginormous nachos with your best friend when you are super hyper makes for a pretty good Saturday night, even if everything else in your world seems to be crumbling down around you. After years of always being in a dark place I was pretty proud of myself for not letting the darkness consume me when it was trying so hard to do just that.
This blog seriously meandered…if you made it all the way through I thank you for sticking with me. I’m not even sure if it all makes sense but I just had to write something.
I made a video blog awhile ago that I never posted because the sound wasn’t matching up with the video and I couldn’t figure out how to fix it so I’m going to try again, with the written word. I feel like this needs to be said because most of my close friends are going through difficult times and I have dried up my emotional resources. I have been crying at work every day because nothing I do it say helps them and a little voice at the back of my head is, once again, trying to tell me that I’m not good enough, that I’m worthless, that I don’t matter. But none of those things ate true. I know that now and I refuse to let those thoughts win.
I am enough. I matter. We all are and we all do. So this is for my friends. And this is for everyone out there who may feel lost or hurt or sad. You aren’t alone. I’m here.
This whole train of thought started with the stars. Do you ever look at them? Really look at them? They connect us in a way that we can’t even imagine. They are the same stars that your grandparents looked at and the same ones your grandchildren will look at and the same ones someone on the other side if the world sees. They are the past, present, and future. And what’s even cooler is that by the time their light reaches us they are usually already dead, so its like we are looking into the past while seeing the future. And we are all a part of them. The cosmic dust that falls to earth becomes a part of us is some small way.
We are all the same in that we are different. We get to made decisions and think and feel and form our own opinions and love and even hate if we want to. We are all beautiful creatures and…we all hate each other. We do. We hate the very thing that brings us together. Just because someone has a certain political view or believes in a different religion or has more money than you or less money than you or lives on the wrong side of town or…anything. We find all these different things to dislike about each other instead of seeing how beautiful it is that we can each be completely different from each other. We are unique. Each and every one of us. We are ourselves, and we can’t be anything else. So we judge. And we find something in others that we don’t like. And we dwell. But life is beautiful and amazing, just like us. But we don’t even like ourselves; we project our dislike onto others because, well, because we’re human. We are told that we aren’t good enough, or that different is bad. But guess what? It isn’t. Different is beautiful. We all have flaws. We all fall in love with the wrong person. Few of us are content with where we are in life. There is always something lacking in our lives. And that’s okay. But I think, what isn’t okay, is to hold onto all these insecurities and “downfalls” and allow them to fester.
I used to be so depressed I went to bed every night hoping I wouldn’t wake up and not just because I didn’t like my life or myself, but also because I couldn’t come to terms with the fact that nobody else in the world seemed to either. There is death and destruction everywhere. We start wars based on beliefs someone else has. Shakespeare said, “there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” And I think that is true. I won’t say that war is good, that is definitely false, but it was thinking that lead someone to think that a war was needed. Shit just is. Someone is going to believe differently from you but that isn’t a bad thing until you think it is. Now, it took me years to get to the point I finally reached a little over a month ago, but now that I’m here life is fucking fantastic. But that quote helped. Every thought I had put me where I was. I held on to every damn thing and turned it into a negative and I will be the first to admit that it was in no way healthy.
I’m not positive what it was but one day it just clicked and suddenly I understood what I needed to do, what I wanted to do, and how to get there. It may not work for you, but it may help you on the way to your own personal clarity. I finally realized and accepted that I can’t change the way people think, feel, or act, but I CAN change all those things about me. Instead of looking at everything in my life under a microscope and analyzing it I decided that everything I have ever done lead me to the point I’m at; a point that I’m not exactly happy with but at the same time could be much worse. I have a roof over my head, a job that doesn’t totally suck, friends whom I love dearly, an amazing family, and hope. I hold on to hope with every essence of my being. I truly believe that I will get exactly where I want in life simply because I want to. The truth is that nobody else will get me where I want to be, I have to rely on myself and guess what? I’m pretty frickin reliable!
Sure, life sucks sometimes, but when I get in that state of mind I just laugh it off and remember that life happens. All around us. Every day. Every moment, every memory, every experience is ours to keep. And we get to decide what we do and how we do it and what we take from it. We can take all the bad or we can take the good. Being broken up with sucks. Especially when you know they have gone back to someone else or are still in love with someone else. You tell yourself you aren’t good enough. You spend hours every day trying to figure out why that person is better than you when you KNOW they aren’t, when the person even told you that you were better! But you can’t change them. You can only change yourself. You can know that they missed out. Cry. Scream. Be angry. But don’t hate yourself. Because it isn’t you and you will never understand. You won’t understand because it doesn’t make sense. It just doesn’t. Love doesn’t come with rationale. Love is passion and stupidity and intuition. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it. At some point though, you have to realize that you will be okay. You will! Your heart is broken, true. But it will heal. And that scar will be there to remind you that you hit bottom and clawed your way back to the top crying and broken and in pain and unsure. But you did it, and you can do it again. The best part? You have all those memories – the good and the bad – to remember forever. The bad you will learn from, the good you will smile from, and together they will continue to build you and mold you and create you. I always told myself that I wasn’t good enough. I always fell into that trap. But I am good enough. I’m perfect, in fact. Perfectly imperfect because I’m me and I make no excuses for it. Nor should you because you are also perfect in all your imperfections.
Every day is something new to look forward to. You get to wake up and live however the hell you want to. This morning I was down and struggling because of my inability to help out my friends; nothing I do or say seems to make them see anything in a positive light. But then I realized that all I can do is continue to be there for them, continue to shed that positive light on every damn thing, remind them that they are amazing and I am lucky to have them in my life and everybody else should feel lucky too. I can’t fix them, but I can be there for them every time they fall. And that goes for everyone out there – if you are the one hurting or if you are the one helping a friend out, always know that someone out there has been through it and someone out there wants to help. Whatever you can do is good enough. Right now I can’t do as much as I would like because, as I said earlier, I have given a little too much and neglected myself. I am grumpy and easily angered. However I have realized this and decided that this weekend I will go on a small trip (more on that in another post) just for me so I can recharge, refocus, and come back ready to face any problem that comes at me or my friends.
If you are stuck in a rut, unhappy, depressed, confused, hurt, or anything other than happy take a moment to reflect on what happened to get you where you are today. Was life shitty? Is life still shitty? Every day come up with one reason to smile. Mine is generally excessive amounts of coffee because no matter what I can rely on there being coffee somewhere. (Seriously, you have to start with the little things.) If you are mending a broken heart, start off telling yourself that you aren’t done forever, simply that now wasn’t ya’lls time. That one day you will be together again. It may or may not be true, you honestly don’t know, so why not believe that it will happen? That’s how I got over HIM. I started by believing that one day we would find each other again, and eventually rationality stepped in and I realized that HE wasn’t my one, but that meant my one was still out there and if that isn’t a happy thought then I don’t know what is!
Smile because you get to decide. Smile because you aren’t alone. Smile because you have friends. Smile because you are alive. Smile because…it confuses people. Just start with a smile. Then you can move on to turning one negative into a positive every day. I started out small and am now able to do it with everything while at the same time annoying the shit out of my friends with my unstoppable positivity! Soon I will have rainbows coming out of my ass. It’ll be beautiful!
Anyway, I will leave you with a few things to remember:
The thing about goodbyes is that it’s the beginning of a new hello.
Broken hearts mend and become stronger.
Scars are there to remind us of what we’ve been through and what we can handle.
A smile can fix your day.
Positive thoughts help not only you but the people around you.
Life is beautiful. Live it. Enjoy it. Love it. Because you only have this one, so why not make it great?
And, as usual, I have to sign off with something completely insane even though this was mostly a serious post…May your days be filled with syrup chugging contests and buckets full of water, glue, and glitter filled water balloons to throw at those particularly annoying people you may encounter. Remember to always sing in the bathroom, never let anyone see it was you who emptied the coffee pot, and keep glitter handy to throw at people – water balloon or not.
p.s. These photos came from another blogger I discovered via Facebook. You should check her out: A.D.D. Music Mamma
My week thus far has been interesting…ish. On Sunday I met up with a guy I had met at the dog park during my week of dog sitting and I think I did something wrong. See, when I met Mr. Dog Park it was at night and he was wearing a hat so I didn’t really pay much attention to what he looked like figuring I would never see him again but of course, at the end of the night, he asked for my number because he is semi new to the area and wanted me to show him around Dallas. So we were going to the gun range and possibly food afterwards but come Sunday I didn’t feel like doing either so I reluctantly dragged myself to the range thinking shooting something might alter my mood. I ended up walking in first and was about to text Dog Park when he walked in because I heard, “behind you.” When I turned around I thought I was facing the doppleganger for Andre from The League. A younger version of him but him none the less. In all honesty he kind of talked like him too. It was weird.
Turned out that shooting did nothing to change my mood. Maybe because I hate indoor ranged or maybe because I prefer rifles but I was done after a few shots and ready to leave. When I told Dog Park I was done he seemed bemused and looked at me like I had just spoken in a different language. I left the range and sat inside to wait for him to finish feeling only slightly bad that I had wasted his time. Before I had left for the range Mr. Perfect told me that it was a date but I was quite adamant in informing him that it was most definitely not since we were just going to hang out. But since Sunday I have not heard from Dog Park and I am thinking Mr. Perfect might have been right about the whole date thing. In which case I am a complete bitch. But whatever, I can’t ALWAYS be perfect. Although, apparently Mr. Perfect is always right. It’s fucking annoying.
So the rest of Sunday was spent relaxing and dreading work the next morning. Unfortunately, upon getting up when I didn’t want to, making myself presentable when makeup seemed like a time-wasting enemy, and driving all the way there when I suddenly had a personal vendetta towards everyone on the road, I arrived in the parking lot only to find out that – lucky me – work was closed. President’s Day and all that. If only someone had informed me of this, that would have been nice because I don’t know about you, but I absolutely live for getting up early when there is no need for it as well as wasting gas. It is on my list of top ten favorite activities, right up there with getting paper cuts, ending a relationship, and having bacon grease pop in my eye. Though I suppose if I am going to do all those things I don’t want to finding out that you have the day off is probably the best pot of gold you could find at the end of that shit rainbow.
After being completely lazy the rest of the day Brain invited me to come over for wine, pizza, and a movie where I got to have some seriously good girl talk with a girl that I am seriously glad I met! You know those people in your life that you meet almost by accident and, after a spell, realize that you aren’t quite sure how you have lived so long without them? She is one of those people. We are similar in all the right ways and always have something to talk about. We both practice tolerance towards people with differing opinions and care about sports more than normal and it is pretty awesome, we should all have friends like this.
We chose to watch The Perks of Being a Wallflower which was better than I ever imagined. I know I liked the book but the movie may have been better. And when the movie was almost over and I was wondering what I would do after I got a message from a friend who I hadn’t seen in awhile asking if I wanted to hang out, which I most definitely did. We met at my bar and my entrance was poetic. Since it was my bar I knew several people there, most of whom I hadn’t seen in quite awhile so I went around and said hi and hugged everyone before making a proper greeting to the friend I had actually come to see. I felt cool. But I am most decidedly not. This made me happy.
So…my friend…He had boy band hair without even trying. It was beyond fantastic. I touched it and I promise you there was no product in it, or at least it didn’t feel like it. I wanted to take a picture with him and post it on Facebook and just caption it, “OMG! GUESS WHO I MET!” just to see how many people would try and guess some random person. I wouldn’t admit it out loud but I have a love for boy bands because I was, after all, once a teeny-bopper and couldn’t help but be obsessed with NSYNC and Backstreet Boys. Even now I love/hate boy bands. Mostly hate because…well…they are boy bands and generally make me want to pierce my eardrums with blunt pencils…repeatedly. But I can’t help loving One Direction for the simple fact that when I was sad and felt unattractive post-breakup with HIM my soulmate would always randomly send me lyrics to “What Makes You Beautiful” and now every time I hear that song I have to turn it up and belt it out. No matter what mood I’m in it will instantly make me happy. If Boy Band had broke out into that song I would have taken him at the bar! I’m just kidding…I would have at least taken it out to the parking lot. I’m classy like that.
I went onto YouTube just now to get the video and post it here for those of you unlucky people who have never experienced the horrifying greatness of this song and realized that I had never watched the video. Now…there is so much fun to be made about the video but I won’t start. I know you will do enough of that for yourself. It is so bad that, had my soulmate not given me a reason to love it, I would completely hate it. There is one good thing that came from watching this, it reminded me that when I brought up One Direction to Boy Band that he mentioned their being English. HE brought it up. I had no idea. Maybe we have a One Direction connection!
Until next time, remember to stay popular, always assume it’s a date, and never underestimate the power of your hair. And may your week be stocked with liquor, filled with friends, and ended with madness.