Must have been the tramp stamp

I went to a party of a former coworker the other night. Now we believe every good party has to be a theme party and this was no exception. The theme was evil/clown (Hosted by kind of a weird satanic couple, really into clowns) so with that theme in mind, I came dressed as a sorority girl. I'm talking poofed hair, heavy makeup, slutty clothes, heart-shaped jewelry, and yes, even complete with a giant butterfly tramp stamp tattoo (I would have gone with a fake tan but that costs money and this isn't Halloween!). Not exactly what they were expecting but everyone got the metaphor.

Somehow when we have these parties, it usually ends up with me and the clown couple drunk as can be while everyone else takes off. This party was no exception and I had already planned on staying the night. She kept handing me drinks, because she "wanted to make it a dance party." I didn't know how me getting drunk was going to make it a dance party, but I obliged. Hey, the girl is good with tequila. Apparently a dance party was not what she was after, she was trying to lower my inhibitions! As the last person was leaving she sits down next to me on the couch and looks at me sweetly. She suggests a threesome.

Now I can't give you the specifics of how I was solicited for joining the clown couple for a threesome but it started with "Ya know my boyfriend thinks you're cute" and ended with "And you and I can do whatever we want to each other too!" Somewhere in the middle, she mentioned he had a big penis, apparently to tempt me further. Cue: furious texting to Conrad, begging him to come pick me up (Damn him for hating people, avoiding social situations and falling asleep at midnight!).

I don't know what it was, perhaps my big hair? My raccoon eyes? The butterfly hovering playfully inches above my buttcrack? Either way, they both wanted it. I can't say I'm terribly surprised. They have both clearly come on to me in the past and we pegged them as swingers way back after our Halloween party. The boyfriend had already told me I could just sleep in their bed with them (I thought he was joking at the time). Don't worry ladies, I slept on the couch in solitude. I may have looked like sorority girl/easy, but sorry clown couple, I wasn't that drunk.

Pistachio ice cream isn't for everyone...

While out to lunch with an old friend we were chatting away when the conversation moved to funny quotes. "Ah ha." Thinks me. What a great opportunity to bring up my (soon to be) infamous quote: "What do you do with your arms?"

I think I should mention though that my friend is, well, a little innocent and has very little experience with guys. But I figured she would least know about, well, stuff. Um...no. I started to explain about pistachio ice cream, obviously being far more blunt with my wording. Yes ladies, I used the exact words: oral sex. My friend looked confused (and I hadn't even got to the 'what do you do with your arms bit.')

Here's the thing. My friend didn't know what oral sex is. She thought, wait for it...oral sex is "sex, with talking afterwards."

Cue a very awkward moment.

When I managed to explain it, her reaction? Priceless.

Deterioration of the Fight or Flight Response

"Human beings need a lot of things to feel alive. Family. Love. Sex. But we only need one thing to actually be alive. We need a beating heart. When our heart is threatened, we respond in one of two ways. We either run or we attack. There’s a scientific term for this: Fight or flight. It’s instinct. We can’t control it. Or can we?” –Grey’s Anatomy

For some reason I was thinking about this quote from Grey’s Anatomy today. It’s been a while now since MM broke my heart. I’m sure you all are getting tired of hearing about it, but I’m finally starting to get over it. I think that quitting my job really helped. I’m happy now. I don’t wake up every morning thinking about MM and dreading going to work. I’m starting to feel like myself again rather than a watered down version. OK so I still don’t jump out of bed singing “Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah, Zip-A-Dee-A! My, oh my, what a wonderful day!”, but who does? I’ve been taking advantage of my freedom. I’ve been going to the gym. I even have an interview for an internship next week. (Hoorah!) I’m feeling positive about my future. There is only one problem…

While I’m no longer pining after MM (v. good), I’m finding that the experience has heightened my flight instinct (v. bad). So I ask you, can we control this? In December, when I first tried to revisit online dating, I panicked and gave into the flight response. I clearly wasn’t ready. However, with my fresh optimism and zest for life, I thought maybe I should give online dating another try after all. I decided that this time I wasn’t going to take it as seriously. I wouldn’t get obsessed and overly excited about guys before I even met them. I was still a little worried that I wasn’t ready, so I was hesitant to even tell anyone. I guess I was embarrassed by my own indecisiveness. (Apparently optimism doesn’t overshadow indecisiveness.) Plus I wanted to make sure I was doing this for me rather than because of some unspoken societal pressure.

One of my first messages was from a guy who wrote some BS about the “dichotomy of women-folk” and told me to check out his profile and see if it spoke to me. It definitely did. It SCREAMED douche bag! Here is an excerpt from his profile for your enjoyment:

I’m a breast man, no two ways about it (get it?). My dad always said, “[Name removed], if it’s more than a handful, it’s wasted!” My father was a wise man. Any bigger than D’s and I’m gonna notice that you got D’s on your hips, belly and thighs too. I don’t like a lot of eye make-up, because I like pretty eyes. No spiderlashes! Not every girl I dated was a model, but I like cute girls. I like waking up next to my girl and believe for a moment that an angel spent the night and kept her wings in her purse while she slept. Then I steal her halo before she wakes up!

Yes ladies, this man is on the market! The breast man went on to state the following list of dating “exclusions” (because you know that the women are just fighting for the chance to date him and he needed to narrow down the playing field): no divorcees, no separatees, no amputees, no mommies, no drugees, no diabetes, no lime disease, no STDs. Well at least he made me laugh.

I’ve been talking to another guy who seems nice and normal. He wants to meet up this weekend, but for some reason I’m hesitant. I told him I wasn’t sure if I was free tonight, but I’d let him know. In reality I had absolutely no plans. I just wasn’t sure if I was ready. The panic is still there, but I can’t live my life in fear of getting hurt. I guess I’m going to have to fight the flight response. This brings to mind fainting goats. Fight or flight? Sometimes you really just can’t decide! Please send positive thoughts my way!

A new slew

Well it's official. I am moving to the CITAYYY! With one job offer today, and another promising interview tomorrow, things are looking up. And it couldn't come soon enough. Seriously, the month of January is awful enough without the added gloom of unemployment. For the past 3 weeks, the highlight of my day has been watching last night's tv on hulu (that's right, unemployed AND no cable!). It can be 2 o'clock in the afternoon before I realize I still haven't put on a bra. Needless to say, I was starting to feel a little desperate.

A job prospect is exciting enough but think of it this way: a new job and a new city means a whole slew of new boys. And oh, how I need new boys. For example, in between my jumping up and down in concentric circles, the big hug from my aunt, and the shrill "Now you'll never have to move back to the parental's house!" squeal of Violet, I got a "Sweet. How much cash?" from Conrad. Ugh. He's such a boy. This comment was followed by, "Aww you're moving away from me." Again, such a boy. Yes Conrad, me excitingly telling you I got my first job offer is all about cash and you. Typical.

I did remind him that I'm only moving an hour away, but I doubt I'll see much of him. It's ok. I need a fresh start. Which is exactly what this move will give me. And as Violet cleverly pointed out to me, this is a college town (We're talking Ivy league, Ladies!) and we all know I love the college boys. Cougar, Out.

Oh crap. It's almost February.

When I get ready for work in the mornings I have the TV on in the background. This morning I thought something was slightly amiss as the majority of commercials were all for CDs. And not just any CDs. Oh no. Love song CDs. Being that it was a Monday morning it took a few seconds for my brain to comprehend the significance of this. But then, it came to me. Oh crap. It's almost February.

This evening I was hunting for a birthday card. Unable to find one I turned to look at the shelf full of fresh notebooks (yes, I love stationery) only to find it replaced by a wall of red, pink and just plain mushy cards. Oh crap. It's almost February.

I was watching Glee tonight. During the commercial break there was an advert for a new film starring pretty much everyone in Hollywood (including Bradley Cooper who in my opinion has been in way too many films of late). The film is called 'Valentine's Day'. Oh crap it's almost February.

Of all the ways to spend $800, this was NOT what I had in mind!

Oh, January resolution. I had such high hopes for you. It didn't seem that difficult to do something new each weekend. Until two things happened last week to derail that plan.

1. I nearly died, then had to spend more than a month's rent to ensure that I wouldn't, in fact, die.
2. I got sick.

First of all, Wednesday morning, I was driving my quirky, yet trusty vehicle on the insanely busy 6-lane highway to work, doing my usual 65, er, 75 mph, when something very clearly went wrong with my car. It started making an absolutely terrible noise (it makes noises on a regular basis, but this wasn't one of the usual), and feeling shaky. I started to panic. I know one thing about cars: how to drive them. And I can drive a stick, which gives me bonus points, but not when it comes to maintenance. What I should have done, I found out a few hours later, was pull over and call a tow truck. What I did was make my way over to the right lane, and proceed to go 50 mph to the nearest mechanic. Turns out, I was extremely lucky to get to the mechanic. Because what had happened, was the part that keeps my wheel attached to the car, had snapped. Somehow, my wheel stayed on. Had it not, I'm sure I would have taken a few people with me, and would be in the hospital, if I was lucky. Instead, I only had to pay $800 to fix it. Eight. HUNDRED. Dollars. So much for my new-found income. This kind of put a cramp in my weekend "new thing."

But by the time I got home on Friday, all I wanted to do was crawl into my pajamas and curl up on the couch with soup and good TV. And that's exactly what I did. In fact, that's what I did all day Saturday, too. Coughing up phlegm was a good excuse to watch an entire day of America's Next Top Model. (Have I mentioned that I recently had a dream that I was a contestant on that show? Sadly, I did not see Nigel in this dream, so it was kind of a waste.)

By 5pm, I was still in my pajamas, and getting a little tired of Tyra's narcissism. So I called McNerdy and asked if he wanted to get dinner. At some point during dinner, we got on the topic of how I had mistakenly thought that perhaps, just maybe my meeting The Dark Horse twice in two bars was destiny. Then I got really deep (as I'm known to do. I mean, I do watch ANTM after all) and asked the question: "Can you meet Destiny in a bar?"

McNerdy shrugged and said, "why not?" He does have a point. If it's destiny, you could meet them anywhere and at anytime. Then I pointed out to McNerdy, who hangs out with girls 90% of the time, whereas I hang out with guys most of the time, that for two people who spend so much time with the opposite sex, we should really have a better understanding of them. How is it that we don't?

Anyway, now it is Sunday night, and I haven't done much of anything with my weekend, let alone anything new. Although, if you want to get technical, I did spend that $800 on car repairs. Never done that before!

If this is dating, I don't like it

I promised I would keep you all posted on the 'date' with WW.

He emailed me on Friday to let me know that he had booked the cinema tickets. At the cinema in Leicester Square. Now, this particular cinema at Leicester Square is THE cinema. If you see premieres in the UK, they're outside this cinema. Tickets aren't cheap. All the people I was out with on Friday made a big deal of this. So let's just say that I was pretty nervous on my way to meet him.

However, I managed to overcome the nerves and we went for a wander before the film, then went in to watch the film. At this point I need to digress and make a few observations / comments:

1. I didn't really get all the fuss about Avatar.
2. Whoever designed 3D glasses was clearly looking at photos of NASA scientists from the 1960s when they did so.
3. Children should NOT be allowed in the cinema if they are going to repeatedly kick the back of someone's chair. Especially if that someone is me.

Perhaps I didn't find Avatar very enjoyable as I was constantly thinking about the whole WW situation. I think it's good advice to not go see a film you really want to see if you're on a date. You'll get distracted.

After the film (another digression, is there not something disconcerting about going into the cinema when it's light and coming out when it's dark?) we went for a walk around Chinatown. I had my arm linked through his. That turned into hand holding, which I figured was a good sign. We went for a drink (NB: he was quite hungover from Saturday night. So hungover that he didn't actually have any alcohol and I should probably be a little impressed he made it out at all considering his friend who he was out drinking with was still in bed.) and then we headed back.

We needed to get the same underground line home but his stop was two before mine. As we approached his stop we kissed goodbye. I made a comment that went something like: "why do we only do this at the end of the evening?" Was this a bad thing to say? My friend seems quite surprised I said it. I didn't say it in an accusatory tone. It was light-hearted. And a valid point in my opinion! He thought about it and replied with: "hmmmm...I don't know." Then he had to get off the train.

So that was my evening. Not quite sure where I stand. I think the signs are good but it's all moving quite slowly. I'm not used to slow. I'm used to either university relationships which frankly have their own set of rules or the relationship with Fergus which moved ridiculously quickly. So is this casual dating? If it is, I don't like it. I hate uncertainty. What do we think? I don't know when I'll see him next. He's away this coming weekend. Basically, although I'm pleased that non-platonic stuff happened I still feel unsure about what's going on.

I'm over thinking this aren't I?