Thursday, September 25, 2008

It's My Party And I'll Pry If I Want To...

I'm finally coming down off the birthday wave, which means, I'm done with activities for the time being - still required to visit my mother at some point, and, separately, because they don't speak (Long Ass Story), her parents, then, alas, I shall relinquish the birthday crown to my sister, whose big day comes up in a couple weeks. Still, all that shit on being older and wiser, blah blah blah, I'm just happy to have food in my apartment again, because it's rather blasphemous in our family to send anyone home empty-handed.

That being said, I still owe a post to the completely friggin adorable story that unfolded Saturday night... One of those things that just doesn't happen in real life, and I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't watched it with my own eyes.

So, it's Saturday night, and due to a variety of circumstances, my dinner posse consisted of merely myself and my friend Sarah, a night nurse from Omaha who had the weekend off and decided to drive up to Iowa for, well, my birthday, but also for something to do. We went out to dinner and right about nine o'clock or so, we debated what to do next. We decided to just go ahead and hit the bars. Lo and behold, it was game night, so even though it was early (well, early for a bar on a Saturday, not early compared to my normal sleep schedule, cuz, you know, I'm old), the place was so packed that we got stuck waiting in a line. A short line, but, still, a line. Sarah had recently chopped off a lot of hair, and I personally thought it was adorable on her, but she wasn't sold on it, so this became the center of our discussion while waiting. The bouncer (who was stored in my vague recollection as the cute bartender that one time gave me extra whipped cream on my daiquiri) chimed in, and said that he liked it too, and that it really showed off her eyes, and was totally flirting with her, not in the creepy-bar-pickup way but in a sincere I-think-you're pretty sort of way. Sarah got a little bit shy and awkward and thanked him, and we continued our discussion, which was becoming a bit circular at this point, and continued to wait our turn to go in. (But wait, it gets better!)

We are finally (ok, ok, it had probably only been ten minutes or so) allowed in, and as soon as we were in the door, he actually jumped off his perch and followed us in, lightly touched her on the arm, and, no joke, looks her in the eyes and says, "I'm sorry if this is forward, but I really do think you are very lovely" and then runs back outside. I had to repress the girly squeals until we were out of earshot and he was back outside. I ran into one of the guys from work, so we joined him and his crew, got some drinks, and watched the rest of the game (which we lost in overtime, but, oh well). At some point, the bouncer had switched to bartender duty, and all night kept looking over at our table. I kept nudging her and telling her to at least go get a free drink, but she kept protesting (although at one point she happened to go to the bar to order (I relied on our waitress, cause, well, it was easier than fighting through the people) and he happened to wait on her and happened to not charge her. After a while we decided to call it a night, and by this point, he was back out at the door. We passed him without a word, but he got up and called after her (she got annoyed that he kept calling her "miss" - to which I reminded her that he didn't actually know her name, and it was better than "hey you!") and was like, "Do you like coffee?" She offers a hesitant yes (although on the way to the car, she confessed that actually, she did not like coffee, in fact, she pretty much hates it), and you can tell he's trying to find a way to ask her out.

She immediately reminds him that she's not from around here, she lives in Nebraska, and he was very unbothered by this (especially since I chimed in with "Omaha!" which is pretty much on the flipping border) and was like, "Close enough!" He tried to ask for her number, but Sarah would not be dissuaded, she tried to gently blow him off by telling him how she hasn't had luck with long distance relationships and blah blah blah, and she shook his hand, told him her name, and turned around to leave. As we were walking back to her car, I decided that this was unacceptable, because he was cute and nice and clearly liked her a lot, so I texted my friend Calee who was still back in the bar and expressed my disbelief in what had just happened. This was immediately followed by another text in which I gave her Sarah's number and told her to give it to the bouncer. Naturally, she did. (Later, Sarah could not figure out how I had managed this, because I hadn't left her sight the entire time....)

Meanwhile, Sarah and I headed back to my apartment, cracked open some wine, discussed the recent events at the bar (and she conceded that, well, maybe she should have given him her number, at which I felt rather justified in my meddling) and popped in a movie. Calee called at some point to tell me about her run-in with some middle-aged drunken bar wenches, and as I was relaying the story to Sarah, I hinted that we were maybe, um, plotting something, because, well, I would have felt bad for both her and him if I'd just let her be blindsided (can you say "awkward"). She gave me a suspicious look but didn't pry more information from me. Now, in Iowa, the bars close at 2 am, and right around 2:15 or so (must have been as soon as he got off work), her phone rings. She answers it, gives me a look, and I retreat to my computer to "check my email" (I get a lot of emails in the middle of the night, you know), totally eavesdropping, and they talked for at least an hour. It was incredible. They had so much in common and there were no noticeable lulls in conversation. He even offered to come visit her in Omaha if she let him know her schedule (as previously mentioned, she works nights and her schedule is rather erratic), and it was just all sorts of warm-fuzzy inducing. I mean, seriously, this just doesn't happen in real life, not very often. I try not to involve myself where I don't need to be (ie, people's love lives), but, dammit, moments like this are few and far between and there are so many asshole guys out there, you need to seize these opportunities when they come up. And even if nothing comes of it, hey, she made a new friend and someone to talk to and get to know, which is one of the things I immediately pointed out to her when we got back to my place and I was expressing my disapproval at her brushoff.

So, we'll see what happens, but even if nothing else does, it was pretty freaking awesome.

Now, if only something like that would happen to me... ::sigh::

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Year 24

Well, it's that time of year again. I get mail that isn't bills, my facebook wall gets more action than I myself have seen in ages, and people go out of their way to be nice to me. That's right, it's my birthday. I am now officially 24, which is a fairly insignificant milestone, perhaps the last year that I can consider myself to be in my "early twenties" before I move into the "mid-20's" and then I inch scarily close to the dreaded 3-0. BUT, that's years away, so we'll focus on now.

I guess I could sit and meditate on my life thus far, but really, all that's changed since last year is that I've moved back to A-town, gotten a "real" job that I happen to love, acquired a cat and a brother-in-law, found the balls to chop all my hair off (well, comparatively, anyway), gotten a little bit smarter about money and remained equally as clueless about boys (and yes, at this age, they are still "boys"). I guess, in retrospect, a fair amount has changed, mostly for the better, but I think that everything falling into place is probably God's way of apologizing for last year's epic suckfest. Immediate goal on the horizon is to get off my lazy ass and maybe, hopefully, ideally, finally dump all this ridiculous fatness that I've acquired since college (Freshman "Fifteen" my ass. Try twenty. Plus another fifteen sophomore year for good measure.) This is a problem because I'm chronically lazy (or, as I've come to discover, exhausted by the time I get home). But, that's the goal. The other? To make peace with the fact that I was unable to find an apartment with its own washer and dryer. Must... stop... browsing... for.. apartments... (moving = on my list of top ten most sucktastic things to do). Oh well. Someday.

You will note the distinct absence of me whining about not having a boyfriend. Sure, it sucks sometimes, but, generally speaking, they are more trouble than they are worth, and with the current rate of everyone I know getting married (or, in some cases, already expecting real live human babies), my commitment-phobia is skyrocketing to all new levels. I mean, shit, I am the exact age my mother was when I was liberated from the womb... I cannot fathom being married with kids right now. I can barely wrap my head around insurance premiums and 401(k) plans (what the FUCK does that k stand for????) and how to use jumper cables and accepting that I have to get up ridiculously early every morning to go to work. I like that I can spend spare cash on wine and not diapers (shopping for a baby shower last month resulted in an interesting cart load). I know that I am a fully functioning, quasi-responsible adult... who immediately calls my dad as soon as a light appears on my dashboard that probably shouldn't be lit. Babies? Marriage? Hell to the no. Not at this juncture, anyway. I may be a grownup but I'm still going to delay Complete Maturity for as long as possible.

Anyway. On a scale of 1-10, I'd give life a 9 right now. There are a few things that can be improved upon, but for the most part, I'm generally very content with where I am.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go prevent my cat from eating a styrofoam packing peanut.

Exhibit A: My kitteh. The only thing resembling a child that I will have for a very, very long time.


Sunday, September 21, 2008


I sometimes love my deviousness. I love it even more when it pays off. More details to follow, when it's not 2:55 in the morning, and I'm slightly more coherent. Still... let's just say there are giddy girly squeals involved.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Post Partially Stolen From The Other Blog I'm Now Cheating On

I am such a loser. This is my fourth blog*. That I can account for. I’m sure I’ve had others, but, well, they’re just notches in my e-bedpost. I’ll admit it… I’m kind of a slut about my websites. I think I can categorically attribute this to a genetic restlessness or a generalized fear of commitment. In this particular instance I am test driving two new blogs to see which one can more fully cater to my overwhelming pickiness and anal retentiveness.

* I don’t mean ever. I mean right now. As we speak. They’re still out there…

At any rate, I’m starting all over. I’m not deleting or destroying my old blogs (I’ve always hated the word “blog”, by the way), one of them is pretty much inextricably linked with the site I’ve got all my art up on, but it’s gimping along and I want something new. Basically a dumping ground for all my deep and profound eloquence (and random shit that I find on the internets that amuses me) because I am incredibly narcissistic and think that people will actually give a shit and want to read about it. This will probably never be a blog that people work into their daily websurfing routine, but oh well. I'm really not that interesting, as much as I like to think so.

(P.S., I swear like a disgruntled semi driver, so if you are easily offended, I recommend you quietly navigate away... now.)

So, with that brilliant intro, this is my Brand New Blog. Quick rundown on what you are dealing with: I'm a (sort of) recent graduate of Iowa State University, which is the love of my life and I was sad to leave it... I so wasn't done learning when they shoved a diploma at me and told me to get out. If I had the money, I'd go back to school in a heartbeat. I'm less than a week away from turning 24, which makes me officially a grown up, and all things that inherently suck and rock about that. I'm one of the few remaining single people in any given group that I associate with, which is sometimes awkward, sometimes a relief, and pretty much gives me the right to whine about boys as if I were a lovestruck schoolgirl. I am trained to be a graphic designer buuut well that didn't work out so well for me, jobs upon graduation were scarce, I ended up doing a stint at everyone's favorite retail corporation (and own more red & khaki then I know what to do with) but it wasn't a complete suckfest and now I'm happily employed as a project manager for a creative services agency which isn't quite what I planned but I think I'm better suited for it, anyway. Some days I kick a lot of ass, some days I get my ass kicked a lot. As long as the balance tends to lean slightly more in my favor, I'm okay with that.

I have a cat, that is pretty much as close as I can get to any sort of maternal functioning, I do not refer to her as my baby nor to myself as her "mom" because quite frankly human babies terrify me. I prefer to not have any, and anyone that says "oh, you'll change your mind" has clearly not come into contact with my stubbornness. My fear in life is that I will become the Crazy Cat Lady (tm), but I think I'll stop at one. Mayyyyyybe two someday. But that's it. Cats are one of the few animals I like but even they get annoying from time to time. Much like children. Whom society is much more strict on how you deal with them. (You can't, realistically, shut your child in a room for an extended period of time if you want them out of your way for a while.) Yes, yes. I am a horrible person. I should have issued a disclaimer at the beginning.

Considering the small handful of people that are going to read this damn thing are probably already people I know, I'm going to refrain from rambling any further tonight and go curl up and pass out because I'm sure nobody cares and everybody knows these things already, and dammit, I'm tired.

Also, I'm picking the most random-ass stuff to latch onto, which means I'm losing coherent patterns of thought that can only be solved by Shutting The Fuck Up. Not something I'm good at. There are lots of other similar things that I am not good at... however, there are several things that I happen to be quite good at. *wink* (you took that as an innuendo, didn't you? you sick, sick bastard.)

Anyway. There are still, unfortunately, two days left this week that I have to arise earlier than I'd prefer, and tomorrow happens to be one of them. Thus, I pass out now. Thanks for stopping by. Double thanks if you actually come back.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008


This is just a filler post. Mostly, I'm pissed because someone had my normal username. And has a really, really lame blog in its place.

EDIT: It's the same stupid bitch that has my username on Wordpress, too!! I can't win! Sigh. Maybe it's time to move on.