Sick of Creeps!!

I’m optimistic about my resolution to be a kinder gentler me.  It’s Monday and I’m actually greeting co-workers, smiling.  I’m feeling good, just chugged a Lo-Carb Monster and I am actually experiencing an emotion rarely felt at work, something resembling happiness???

My first interaction of the day is waiting for me in the lobby.  I’m practically bouncing out to greet him.

Initial response:  Gross. He’s abnormally small and overall sticky looking.  So I tell that inner evil snob to shut the hell up and be nice.  I’m really trying here.  

Blahblahblah I’m talking, doing my job. I ask him a question and the guy just stares at me.  I’m thinking, maybe he’s just thinking really hard, like maybe he’s slow or something.

He does not break eye contact.  He doesn’t even blink.  1 second, 2 seconds, 3 seconds, FOUR SECONDS, FIVE SECONDS, I just know he’s staring deep into my eyes imagining what I looked like as a 7 year old in She-Ra underroos.   I am so creeped out, I’m trying to control myself from shuddering or completely flipping out and calling the police.  But I’m in the middle of turning over a new leaf here so I convince myself that I just have a wild imagination and that he is not a pedophile and it isn’t his fault he has a cluster of brown skin tags on his neck fat folds.  And even though it is his fault that he hasn’t bothered to clean the black bacon grease from underneath his fingernails, I will not make my notorious expression of disgust.  After staring into my soul for the most uncomfortable 10 seconds of my entire life, he finally responds and I convince myself that I will make it through this.  He’s just a little different, maybe he has some mental impairment and there’s nothing he can do about that!  What kind of evil bitch would I be if I were to judge him and he has a disability acquired in the war.  No, no, no, he doesn’t sit at home all day polishing the shackles in his rape dungeon!

I’m going to make it.  

UNTIL he introduces me to an involuntary habit of wriggling his slimy tongue outside the side of his mouth.  And why does it look square shaped???  AND WHY WON’T HE STOP DOING IT.  I’m being molested by his tongue.  And now, I’m going to dry heave.  I’m going gag in front of this disabled war veteran.  

I want to cry.  I really just want to cry and run away.  I can’t take this.  Everything in my genetic code is telling me to gather up all of my DNA and escape. 

After blacking out and waking up curled in the fetal position under my desk, I realize it is over, and I think, I AM SO SICK OF CREEPS.

Knock it Off Marvel!

So off to a beautiful wedding at the beach.  A nice weekend get away from the daily grind, spending my hours getting my glow on and refraining from focusing my eyes (or mind) on anything in particular.  BUT, I first had to face the dreaded forced social situation otherwise known as THE RECEPTION.

Despite the rumors the beloved Fran Fine might spread, I am a socially awkward nightmare.  To me, a wedding reception is basically like being stuck in an elevator with about 10 psoriasis infected people.  And while everyone else is calmly throwing back shots of Yager and gracefully moving from crowd to crowd, I'm drinking my way into a multiple personality.

And so Evil Ms. Marvel elbows her way out of the recesses of my mind.  She makes her subtle entry by blurting comments out of context.  For example, while sitting in the back seat with a wedding gift bag that shed glitter everywhere.  Evil Ms. Marvel makes an attempt at humor, "It looks like Tinkerbell died back here."  The passenger gasps, "WHO'S DEAD???  WHAT HAPPENED IN THE BACK SEAT???"

Now I am forced to explain that I'm talking about Tinkerbell as in the animated pixie.  And yes I am a grown woman without children that regularly references animated characters.  So I force myself into silence and play with a really cool twisty tie I find in the back seat.

In addition to making strange comments, Ms. Marvel proves to be somewhat of a bitch.  She has no problem "Shunning" friendly strangers by shutting the conversation down right where it begins.  

Ex.

Nice Not Interested in Me Sexually Guy:  Oh yeah I think we've met before!

Me:  No we haven't. 

Why can’t she just calm down and be nice??   Would it kill her to fake a smile??  Why does she have a default face of disgust???                                                                                                   

Me saying, "So nice to meet you!"

And why couldn’t she have said something more clever like, “It looks like Tinkerbell was cremated in your back seat”??  So I’m turning over a new leaf.  I'm going to grab Evil Ms. Marvel by the hair, slap some masking tape over her mouth and I’m going to be nicer, politer, and funnier.  And one day I (and I alone) will twirl into a packed room and engage everyone I meet with friendly chatter without the desire to fake an IBS attack.   

I am sick of holding my purse while I pee!

Ok what is going on?

Is there some sort of hook shortage happening these days? 

I don't know if anyone else has noticed this, but lately, I cannot go into any public restroom and hang my purse on the back of the damn door! It appears that every hook in every public restroom in the state of California (at least southern cali) has been removed. Is there a hook thief on the loose? Was there a discovery of great value in bathroom stall purse hooks?

I am boggled by the sudden disappearance of these handy little hooks. I can think of no good reason for them to have been removed. Now when I have to pee in a public restroom (which, I never look forward to anyway) I not only have to squat and strain my thighs while hovering over the toilet for fear of contracting some deadly disease or impregnating myself by whatever the fuck is splattered all over that god forsaken seat, I also have to wear my purse around my neck like a god damn 10 pound necklace because there are no hooks to hang it on! Is this emptying my bladder or a fucking carnival act?

"COME SEE THE AMAZING PURSE-BALANCING PEEING WOMAN!"

This is a recent phenomenon because I never used to come across this problem. I noticed it happening here and there only over the past year or so but now, every single stall I go in, there is no hook to be found! You'd think that higher-end, nicer, newer restaurants and bars would supply us with a hook...

 no such luck! Only the old screw holes and rust-ridden outline of where a hook once hung remain in every single public stall.

And don't even think about having more than just a purse with you when nature calls in public. Take it from me, wearing your sweater as a cape, your camera as a necklace, and clenching your clutch with your teeth all while basically doing squats in a stall the size of a washing machine, trying desperately to not  even graze the walls of it in your less than sober state just to piss out that beer or two you downed is no easy task!

I don't know who we ladies have to talk to to get our hooks back, but christ almighty, let's figure it out!

I am sick of it!

POOF! I'm a lesbian!

This past Tuesday, my friend and I went to see Lykke Li in concert at the Wiltern. Just what we needed to sing and dance and clap and cry to. Good times!

I admit, before this year, I hadn't heard of her. My friend made me a cd of her stuff and I was hooked. 

Her music is awesome and after seeing her live, well, I'm in love. 

She is sexy, pretty, talented, unique and free-spirited. And I'm sure she's funny. 

What more could anyone want? 

We had a gay ol' time and now we are a little bit in love in with her...

(hit play)

Do's and Don'ts (part one)

Summer is upon us, here's what's up:

Do get your tan on. No one looks good pasty. Plus, you automatically look about 3-6 pounds thinner when you're skin is a few shades darker.

Do incorporate see-thru tops into your summer night attire and do wear cute bras under them. This is a sexy but not slutty look that will get you noticed. But don't go braless. That is slutty.

Do paint your toe and finger nails with some sort of Studio 54, disco ball glitter polish.

Don't be lazy and put off shaving your legs and nether regions. It's summer. A pool or hot tub party could spring up at any given moment. Be prepared.

Do listen to reggae. 

Do buy tickets to at least one outdoor summer concert. If you live in LA, definitely see a show at the Bowl or The Greek. 

Don't chop your hair off because the weather's gettin' warm and your long hair is making you too hot. You'll instantly regret it and buns are totally in. 

Don't starve yourself just cuz you want to look skinny in that swimsuit or because you don't want your muffin top or back fat hanging out of that bikini... ok, maybe you should starve yourself. A little.

Do wear long, earthmother dresses. Especially if you haven't achieved your maximum leg tan yet. They always look sexy, they can easily be dressed up or down depending on the occasion, and they're pretty much everywhere you go. Get one. 

Do drink festive, fruity drinks. Mango Margaritas, Pina Coladas, Mint Mojitos. They're the perfect compliment to a sunny summer day.

Don't get sick. Whatever you have to do to avoid getting sick, do it! Being sick on perfect summer days while the rest of the world is out by the pool or beating the heat at the beach totally SUCKS! 

Do go out to eat/drink at cute little outdoor cafes and restaurants. Aroma in Studio City or Home in Los Feliz are two of my personal faves. 

Do buy one of those vintage looking bathing suits. They're so cute and the right ones make you look curvy in all the right places and cover that buddha belly.

Don't worry if you don't have a dude. It's way more comfortable hangin' in bathing suits with your gal pals anyway. Summer is all about flings, so fuck it! Slip on that see-thru top, throw back a couple margaritas, make sure you shaved, and go find yourself a summer fling!

yay!

I'm good. I'm gone.

What is up with guys these days? and when I say "these days" I mean since the beginning of time.

Over the past several months, I had been "seeing" this guy (I put that in quotations because I think you have to actually see the person in order to call it "seeing someone", right?) anyway,

let's flash back a little...

several months back, Dude started contacting me. He seemed like a cool guy, bandmate of a friend, cute enough, funny, artistic, and hell, he was into me so that's a major plus! I was getting texts on a daily basis, even when he was playing shows at SXSW in Texas! He wanted me to come over almost every night, he came up with cute ideas like baking brownies together and going hiking. He'd slow dance with me in his dining room with no music playing, brought up taking me to Disneyland (my weakness) and even said things like "You're fun, I enjoy spending time with you, and I havent met someone I enjoy spending time with like that in a long, long time." ...yea I remember that verbatim because I was like, SWOON!

It was all so awesome. I felt so happy and alive. I loved his friends, my friends loved him, he loved them. I found myself missing him when we were apart, and I even got an "I miss you" from him. My personal telltale to whether or not I really like a guy is if I find myself staring at him, especially when he's asleep. No, not in a creepy, Single White Female kind of way. More like an 'awww he's so fucking cute, my heart is skipping beats' kind of way. Anyway, I totally liked him. You know that feeling when you just start spending time with someone and you're both having so much fun and you just want to freeze those moments and live there forever? It was like that for the first month or so. AWESOME!

And let's just clarify this now. It definitely was not just a booty call. This much I know.

Anyway, it all seemed great, wonderful, birds, hearts, rainbows... WOOPS!

Just around the one month mark, the texts stopped, the invites ended, and well the sex... um, let's just say, I was left very confused. It all happened literally overnight.

Of course, when something like this happens, it is natural to step back and think to yourself, 'what the fuck did I do? what'd I say? Did I miss a stray hair somewhere or fucking fart in my sleep?? '. I drove myself crazy wondering what I did, coming up with theories, asking my poor friends for their advice and opinions and even shedding several tears over the thought of it all being over and 

me having no idea why.

But then, we'd get together and POOF! All was fine again. He'd hold my hand, cuddle, kiss me, snuggle, just like month 1. This bipolar, good one day, bad the next week behavior became more regular than not and I was not too keen on the new "us". However, I decided to play the part of the cool girl who wasn't bothered by the fact that she probably wouldn't hear from you for several days or more after she walked out your door. But let's be honest, how long could that go on?

Of course I was starting to believe the probability of the fact that he was 'just not that into me' and I should just get the hint, but my friends (and his- mutual) seemed pretty convinced that he was, but that he was just scared and had his own personal emotional issues. Since this was what I wanted to believe, I continued to put in effort, despite his pretty shitty shut downs. ie:

me: hey I found out I'm off early tonight... come over and I'll make dinner.

him: that sounds nice but I have to work at 7am tomorrow 

and driving from my place to yours and back sounds stressful.

OUCH! 

You'd think Id throw in the towel then, but no.

I waited a good week, he left town, I heard not a word, he came back, I shot him a Facebook comment (harmless) we had a good comment sesh, IM chats, and even got some texting in! Progress! 

Ok, now back to current day...

So, this past Saturday, after much frustration and 'what the fuck is going on-ing', trying to Angela Lansbury the situation and failing at solving the mystery, I gave in. You could also say I hit my wit's end and started to get really fucking pissed off at the one day you like me, one day you don't bullshit!

I was sick (yes, caught it from him and no, he couldnt even be bothered to send a "how are you feeling?" text my way, even though when he was sick, I went out of my way to surprise him with a care package of OJ, Epsom salt, ice cream and other goodies) and in my nose blowing, blood boiling rage, I texted his ass that we needed to get together.

Of  course he responded with "is something up? now im worried" to which I could only think 

is he slightly retarded?? Put down the joint, dude!

We agreed to meet up and at 3pm, I went over to his place and started to calmly explain my confusion and frustration (and mind you, this was only a few days after our FB comment, IM-ing, and texting spree, spending a great night together, watching movies, HIM trying to hold my hand and kiss me and hug me and giving me amazing massages and having good sex. HIM slow dancing with me in the dark to no music and saying adorable things to me, and offering to get breakfast in the morning, making me think we were okay after all and maybe our friends were right). 

His response basically began with the typical "I can't be a boyfriend right now" load of crap accompanied by an 'I think there are some things we don't see eye to eye on but don't see the benefit in disclosing what those things are because it's not like I want you to change anything about yourself'. Also a lovely spiel about how it's not like he can just say he's 'not into me' but there are things he's compromised in his past relationships that ended up being problematic later in the relationship and that there are some things he knows need to be there to make a relationship work that he's just not sure are there, but again, won't tell me what these things are.

When I asked why he bothered taking me out and why he acted so sweet and all recently, he said he thought he explained all of this to me several weeks ago when we attempted a talk. Uh, no dude. We tried to talk but ended with "soooo?? what are we doing then??" followed by no answer, rolling over, cuddling, kissing good night and sleeping in each other's arms. Nice try, though.

Meanwhile, he tells me we are great as friends, I'm fun, I'm hot, I'm smart, and he can't help but be attracted to me... soooooooooo this isn't going to work??

Now, forgive me if I'm wrong, but I was always under the impression that meeting someone smart, getting on great as friends, having fun together, and being attracted to them are sort of the things you look for in a partner and the foundation of a great relationship. No? Hmmmm...

He also had the NERVE to say he felt smothered by me! This was the point in the conversation where I went from calmly taking this all in, to OH NO HE DI'INT bitch mode!

Understand that after things started to go sour a month in, I'd go several days, even a week here and there without talking to him or trying to talk to him or seeing him. I made deliberate efforts to not be clingy or needy and to give him space. I would maybe throw an invite his way like "hey we're all going out tonight. You should come" every so often.  I guess that was too much. Im sorry I liked you and wanted to spend time with you every now and then. My bad. All I can say to you now, Dude, is good luck finding a girl who's cool with talking to you LESS than I did! 

After that bit, I was pretty much donezo with this dude but he went on to say "I might not be working tonight.. I'm scheduled but I might not have to work"... okay? He explained he thought it seemed like maybe there was more to be said. I explained there wasn't. I think I got it. I'm good. Good bye.

In conclusion, apparently, if you are smart and hot and funny and cool and you make a great friend, it just isnt enough. Those old stories of 'dating your best friend' and falling in love, throw them to the wind. When the going get's good, get gone. Well, that is if you're an emotionally unavailable 32 year-old selfish stoner with no concept of common decency or respect for the other person. 

Good move home dude. 

I'll talk to you in 3 months when you regret it and try to contact me again. xoxo

I am sick of being sick!

So a couple of days ago, I woke up feeling like shit. My eyes were heavy and swollen and sinking into the back of my head. My throat was itching, my nose was dripping. Not a pretty picture. I thought at first, it must be allergies, so I dropped a pay check on allergy meds but when those didnt help and I only felt worse as the day went on, I knew I was alas, sick.
Normally, I might not mind so much as I could use being sick as an excuse to take a couple days off work and spend all my time in bed watching movies. But this time, I have friday and saturday off (it's not often I get a "weekend") and the weather is so awesome! It finally feels like summer time out there and I have to spend my treasured days off in bed feeling like shit, blowing my nose, coughing up phlegm, looking like a troll?! I want to be out hiking, or laying by a pool, or shopping, or throwing a pre-memorial day party or something! but no.
Im tempted to say "Fuck you, sickness!" and try to make myself look presentable enough to go out in public and take advantage of these perfect days off anyway, but I can't pretend like my body isnt aching and my eyes arent burning and my nose isnt a fountain of snot.
I dont even know a good remedy to get better fast, and it's not like I have anyone to cater to my needs and bring me soup or draw me a bath. (pity party much?)
whatever, bottom line is, i am sick of being sick!