Tuesday, July 28, 2009
So last night I went home and (okay I was a little bit drunk) started to tell friends about it. But then rather than say about how funny he is and smart I did what I normally do. I started picking him apart. "yeah i know he just moved here from Toronto but he doesn't have a car"..."yeah but he's in his 30's and just getting his career together"...suddenly there were a million faults and flaws. My swoony date feeling turned into grimace.
It wasn't until I was saying this to my bestie this morning that I got the wake up call I needed, mainly in the form of her ripping me a new asshole (as only a bestie can). "You're going to fault him on not having a car? That's stuck up. And shallow. How many guys have you dated that mind fuck you and treat you like shit that have cars. And this guy seems great and you're going to fault him on transportation?"
This was a bit of a slap in the face. But albeit maybe one that's needed. I've picked apart men before and had scraps of remains I've found undateable. I've dated men who look great on paper and could have made my hair curl with the horror stories I have. And this guy is honest and witty and charming and I rake through him to try to find reasons not to date him. Maybe I am a little more fucked up than realized. Also, it's not like I'm an ideal person to date. I can be insecure and jealous, I can be clingy and aloof all at the same time. Good times.
Last night I threw out a menagerie of things that one should NEVER bring up on a date. Ex boyfriends-check. One night stands- check. How I get falling down drunk-check. How I got an STI once from a one night stand*- check (seriously who says that on a date? seriously?). And yet he was sweet enough to leave me an email last night just saying how much fun he had with me and how I seem 'real' when the evidence is quite contrary.
Point taken. I think I may invite him out to the lake this weekend. I'll drive of course.
*which was cleared up in one week with antibiotics and is a hard thing to admit on a blog so please be nice.
ALSO: For more proof of what an epic ass I am, go to Paula's blog today where I am doing a guest post :)
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Anemia ( I don't eat meat/poultry and live off diet coke and fries. It's probable anyways)
Diabetes ( I'm severely hypoglycemic so maybe the pancreas decided to do a 180 for kicks)
Mono ( I do kiss a lot of boys)
MS ( What, like it couldn't happen)
The H1V1 virus formerly known as Swine Flu (it's trendy right now)
AIDS (I was promiscuous first year college, what can I say)
I accidentally inhaled meth from the crackheads that stand outside my workplace (it's not weed in their pipes and second hand smoke is serious business)
Immaculate conception (not so slutty now and very very safe)
Syphilis (apparently it's on the rise in BC and in Alberta)
Delayed nerve damage to my tongue from a root canal I got weeks ago.
An allergic reaction to :air/water/coffee/sun......
An unexplained disease that will merit a full chapter in a medical textbook and be named after me one day. "Meghanitis burns like brothel pee and has no known cure"....
This is why I'm going to the doctor tomorrow morning to get blood work done. Because lord knows it can't be something like the flu or just a general run down feeling. That would make too much sense.
Oh and did I mention the irony that I'm terrified of blood test and they make me nauseated and faint and woozy? Yup, it's hard work being this nuts.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
What a week. I said I wouldn't have a gooshy post about my birthday but it was bound to happen. I think this one could have been the best. Better than the lapdance from a stripper named Maria with loose morales. Better than the threesome after the box of wine. Better than meeting a past fling at a gas station. Drunk. At eleven a.m.
I've matured since then, obviously.
Sarah Kat and I have perfected the drunky hug
I can assure you I was showered with more love and affection than I think words can describe. And I'm a shitty writer with a lot of words in my pocket. Facebook messages, tweets, blog comments, cell phone texts all reasons I love being a social networking slut because the well wishes rained.
I got flowers not once but twice. Neither from a boyfriend but I wouldn't have had it any other way. Chocolate cake during the lunch hour complete with chocolate frosting (which proved to be a late bar snack)from Jessica the Wondergoddess. Friends coming as far from Kelowna and Vancouver to celebrate with babysitters arranged and work schedules balanced. The cutest purse I've ever laid eyes on (to be seen in future posts) golf clubs, fashion, cards that fit to a "t". Oh and a beach bag that reeks of hilarity. A visit from Bachelor #1 (Bachelor #2 is officially dead to me. Don't ask.) with a personal present (wink wink) and a promise to take me skydiving this summer. Nuts!
Two girls. One t-shirt. Great Canada Day.
Dinner and drinks and sparklers in brownies and iced cream and desserts. Enough Starbucks cards to last me...a month. And feed my Subway addiction. And the drinks. Oh dear god, the drinks. Ceasars and margaritas and shooters I've never heard of in my years of bartending.
Dancing. Flirting. Smoking cuban cigars. Hugs, photos. Hottubing. No swimmies allowed. Guys having a peen measuring contest in the hottub. Not looking at it. Seriously. I thought they just did that in the locker room. And there was almost a Bachelor #2 (#2 the sequel?) but a heads up to bachelors it's best not to hit on a girl and then two seconds later to grab her friends number. That is just bad form.
Yeah, my beach gear has street cred. And bows. Got a problem with that?
The wife got me a plate with dividers so my foods don't have to touch. That's love.
But seriously, what drunkenly possessed me to finish the salmon burger that was left in the car for 7 hrs after dinner is beyond me. Friday was the grossest day of my life.