Going once, going twice..

SOLD!

After two days on the market, the Bachelorette Pad is sold! I can't believe it. This little piece of a house that I made home is now going to just be a piece of the past. I am extremely excited about getting a real live house, but also very sad about leaving this place. There were a lot of fantastic memories created here and there will be more made in the next few weeks before it's time for me to get out!

There are also some memories that I'll be happy to leave here. In The Big Girl House, there will be no room for those memories. It will be time to create new, happy memories. Lots of baking of bread. Lots of movie watching parties. Lots of goodness all around.

The first shindig will be my birthday, for which I'll bake my own cake. A tall, vanilla cake with chocolate buttercream and pretty multicolored sprinkles. And, with the grace of God, one of the shindigs soon after will involve The Boy. I would like that very, very much. I can't wait to tell him the news.

I'm not as dumb as I look

I often wonder how dumb I really look and sound to people. It seems as if certain people of a certain gender think they can tell me anything and me believe it. Lately, that "thing" has always been the same thing.

Last week, I received a call from a family friend. She wanted to introduce me to a co-worker friend of hers. No big deal. So, I chat with the guy briefly at work. He seems to be nice, but so does everyone when you first meet them. Younger guy, seemingly intelligent, well spoken, educated, and a fantastic conversationalist. Good, right? Wrong. When asked, "So, are you single?" he gave me the answer that makes my hopes drop into the deepest hells of my stomach.

Yea, I'm just dating.

This caused instant flashbacks to The Ex. This is the same lie he told me - he was just dating and not really in a relationship. Of course, he was just dating the girl who was feeding him hundred of dollars per week. And, even after we were so-called together, her presence remained. Most of the year that we spent entertaining the company of each other, we were just dating which opened doors for him to see whomever else he liked. In theory, I should not have cared that she was around if we weren't an official couple but it was clear that he was not labeling our relationship on purpose. If we did not have The Conversation and I was not The Girlfriend, then he could see any girl he liked and it would be acceptable. I did not want that situation again. I did not want to be the other girl again. I've done it enough(this may be visited some other time).

Ever so hopeful, I thought I'd give it a chance. Maybe he really was just dating around. Maybe there wasn't anyone special. He worked a second job, but wasn't working this weekend. He asked to see me the following week because he was booked this weekend. Oh, really? Fine, I'll let him call me. So he does. I didn't pick up because I didn't even know it rang. I called back and there was no pick up, so I left a voicemail. Two days later and still no call back.

Preoccupied mother plucker. He better not ever want to speak to me again because he'll never have the opportunity.

Love never lost?

Prior to The Ex, LB, and every other jackass I dated, there was The Boy. He was everything I loved about a man. He wasn't extremely book smart, but you'd never know. He was very well spoken. What he lacked in being book smart, he made up by being street smart. He was respectful and sweet, probably not what you'd expect upon first glance of his rugged exterior. A muscular guy with lots of big tattoos, serious looking black plastic rimmed glasses, and a coolness about himself that made it clear he didn't care for nonsense. But his sweet smile and the freckles sparsely dotting his nose and cheeks gave him an innocent and boyish appeal.

I met The Boy while I was living on the East coast. I often partied by myself. A new girl in a new city with nothing else to do, why not? I was walking alone to my car after a party when I met him, attempting to bring as little attention to myself so that I could manage to get to my car safely. Unfortunately, I'm too big to do anything stealthily. He pulled up along side me and asked me why I was walking alone. I was scared witless so, like an idiot, I told him where I was going. He told me he didn't like that I was walking by myself in that neighborhood and wanted to make sure I got to my car okay. He stayed in his car and crept along as I made it to mine. I thanked him and he heard my accent, which sparked a conversation. We ended up exchanging numbers and off he went.

Truth be told, I was intrigued by him. I think it was the bad boy look, but the seemingly good heart that he had. I called him. We chatted. We started going out a bit, he came over. I tried to get him to sleep with me, but he refused. He slept his first night at my house on my sofa, I in the bed. It was his choice. Of course, this only occurred the first few visits. Yea, I'm a smut.

Things eventually went bad, but not because we did not get along. Something bad happened, which took him out of my life. I was only able to visit with him periodically, but not enough. I missed him so much it hurt. I made a resolve to forget about him, erase him from my life. I ignored his calls. He'd send me messages, but I wouldn't respond. If I couldn't have him for me, I didn't want him at all.

Last week, I had a conversation with my best buddy, Joe Cool, about the guys I date and what I really want. After quite a long talk, I realized that I don't need anyone to do anything for me. I'm 100% self sufficient. All I want is someone to really, really love me. The Ex didn't love me. He acted like he did, but it was a ploy for me to give him money(not like he needed it, he was swindling at least 2 other girls...but I digress). LB definitely didn't love me. I definitely wouldn't let him. The Boy was the only boy ever to love me. And although things happened the way they did, I know that he loved me.

5 years after that thing happened to The Boy, he's still calling me. And messaging me. And I kept ignoring him until today. When I saw his details display on the ID, I knew I had to answer. He had been calling me at least 3 times per week for years. Eventhough I never answered, he still called just to hear my voicemail. The Boy doesn't need me. I've never done anything for him. But I had to know what was driving him to call me so often when I wasn't answering his calls, so I asked...

People, The Boy loves me. He really, really loves me. He didn't have to say it, but I know. In my heart, I know. There's no question. There's no wonder. There's no uncertainty. And, eventually, he said it. It wasn't the first time and he didn't have to say it, but he told me again. And again. He knows that I never wanted to believe it and that I tried to deny it. I never wanted to admit that he loves me. And I never wanted to admit that I know love with him. The truth of the matter is that I do. Sure, I can say that I don't love any man and never have like I always have. Unfortuntely, it would be a lie. I love The Boy. And, finally, I had the guts to tell him. Not just to say it to him because it's right, but to tell him what I really felt. It took me making peace with myself to let go of my hurt and speak the truth. And now he knows.

Inked!

Old friends sure do bring bad habits. I got my very first tattoo this weekend. I'll post a photo of it later. I need to get the right angle, lighting, and mood so that I look hot. Ha! Anyhow, we had a wild night out. I drank too much, danced with the wrong people, and slept too little. I woke up Sunday morning with my sister's boyfriend's best friend in bed with me. He's 10 bloody years younger than me, so that was a little odd as well.

In other news, I have officially rid myself of LB. Let us all sing to the heavens, I no longer have the annoying little nit on my backside. He seemed a little upset, but felt it was coming so he was prepared for it. I don't miss him being around at all. Is that bad?

Otherwise, things are quiet. The realtor came to take photos and The Bachelorette Pad is officially on the market. Work is fantastic and I've got a fun weekend planned with the girls(and a few guys. Yum!)

Changes

Change is something that I don't deal with very well. I fight it. I like most things to remain stable. Expected. Predictable. The last few days has been everything but. Let's start with the ugly. Ending on a sour note isn't cool(and we know The One is supercool.

The Ugly - The Ex is over. Dead. Never to return to my life. I sent him the text and was never sent a reply, but blew it off. He's not mine, so I couldn't complain. But then I began to think...if he really wants to be with me, why does he do such things? So I asked. And I received my usual, "baby, I'm sorry. It was late and I didn't want to bug you" answer. Keep in mind, this is the man who will call at 1 AM when he's off of work any other time. The following day, he has another late night and does call. I don't answer and recieve a snappy email the next morning. So, I let him have it. Enough was enough. Today I found a new picture of him and the girl who "likes him, but he doesn't want to be with." Bullshit.

The Bad - Really, The Bad isn't bad. More than anything, it's a shock. I'm moving. And it's not so much that I'm moving into a new house, but I'm leaving my current spot. LB calls me the Bachelorette partially because of the pad. It's the first place that I've actually bought. Mine. I'm worried prospective buyers won't like it. I love it here and will miss it so much...

The Good - Good is not a fair word. Fantastic is more like it. After graduating college, I left the south to work in the northeast. I had a great group of friends in college, a group of wild girls who loved to party. Unfortunately, a few of them liked to party more than they liked to go to class and dropped out. I had not seen those girls in more than 5 years, until today. A trip to the mall to exchange a dress(that happened to look absolutely horrid on me) is what changed the fact that I had not seen them. The first chick, who we will refer to as Mo-dizzle, was working in a store. I stopped to make sure it was her, talked to her for a while, and headed out. The jewel of the conversation was that another one of the crew was in our city and only 5 minutes from my the bachelorette pad! Of course, I made my way to her place of employment. We ended up chatting for more than 2 friggin' hours. It was quite nice to reunite with old friends. Real friends, something I haven't experienced in years.

So, here's to ridding life of the rubbish and welcoming renewed goodness.

The Gym - Part II

Although I enjoy checking out the scenery, I hate being bugged during my workout. Unless someone can get straight to the point with their question/comment, I don't want to be bothered. Generally, I don't want to be bothered with any questions or comments. It's been said that I look like a bitch, so I try to be nice when I have the opportunity.

Little Bit goes to my gym. I know, I know. The Ex and Little Bit both at the same gym? Yes. I didn't meet either there and I don't recall a time that they've been training at the same time, so I don't care. The Ex is rarely there when I am there in the first place and rarely talks to me because he knows I hate being bothered. Little Bit, on the other hand, has a knack for aggrevating the hell out of me by trying to hold a full blown conversation with him. The subject is always the same:(a)why I haven't called him or (b)why am I so busy that I don't have time for him or (c)what am I doing tonight and can he come over. And you'd think that, knowing I can be a bitch during a workout, LB wouldn't bother me. Right?

Wrong.

Even after I have dismissed him several times, he always comes back begging for more. Take this past Monday, for instance. Dead in the middle of a set, he walks behind me with a smile on his face. I totally ignore him until I'm done and have piddled with the weights a bit. Then I turn around and say hi. The standard questions ensue. And my standard answer is, "We'll see. Call me." I put my headphones back on, turn around, and pretend he was never there. And every night, I block his call. And he calls. And calls. And calls. I never call him back. You'd think the little idiot would have learned by now that I have no interest in him. Hell, I've blantantly told him that he isn't my kind of guy and that he needs to see other people.

You'd think he would get it. Poor sorry sucker. Don't call me and don't fark with me at the gym!

The Gym

On any given day at some point, usually in the evening, you'll find me at the gym. It's my spot. I'm there with my iPod blaring, intense concentration in my eyes, sweating my ass off(pun intended. HA!) No, I'm not one of those get-on-the-treadmill-for-an-hour girls. I'm lifting heavy weights, getting light headed, smelling pre-vomit and waiting for the spew to begin. In short, I work until I have nothing left to give. And although the gym is my time, I do get a kick out of the people who train there.

I also like to check out the guys. Shocking!

For those who don't know, The Ex goes to my gym. I didn't meet him at the gym, though. I met him at a restaurant having dinner with my mom, so he's technically not a gym date. I didn't really pay much attention to him, though. I had seen him a couple or three times, but not enough to really matter.

On the other hand, there are some really, really hot guys that train there regularly. These guys are there daily and some of them are extremely hot. There's one, who I like to refer to as Mighty Mouse because he is probably all of 5'2'', that has the hottest legs I've ever seen. They are big and muscular and strong and...*cough* Yea. Mighty Mouse sometimes trains with Mr Hot. Mr Hot is Mr Hot because he is perfect. Ridiculously cute, amazing athletic body, and a smile that could make the biggest bitch melt. Farging Trainer(FT) sometimes works out with them, but he works there and often has to actually work! I don't think FT is hot, nor do I like him much because he tries to critique me. And because I do nothing wrong(!!!), all I end up getting is this creepy stare show. Anyhow, Mr Hot and Mighty Mouse are not the only hot ones. There's also Hot Racing Guy who, I assume, is either a triathlete or something of that nature. He is scorching, take-off-your-panties now hot. Seriously. Damn...

So what, right? Hot guys at the gym is a normal occurance. Well, these hot guys are special. They aren't just normal hot guys, they hot guys who happen to be gay as well. A bloody waste of a peen to me. Thinking about it now makes me frustrated. Why do the guys get the hot guys?!

I love gay men. My junior year in college, my roommate and I lived next door to two who referred to themselves as Ms Michael and Ms Pearl. Ms Michael was in beauty school and always had the most perfectly kept eyebrows and manicure on any human being that I've ever seen in my life. Ms Pearl was just as flaming as Ms Michael and I loved it. They were the best friends a girl could have from the free eyebrow shaping to the pageants(yes, pageants) they'd have with their other gay friends. I always have, and always will, believe that gay men make the best friends for a woman. They usually have great fashion sense, are really honest, and they will never ever try to get in your pants. What's not to love?

But the thought that Ms Michael and Ms Pearl are stealing the hottest guys and making them their boyfriend pisses me off.

I never said never...

Let's cut to the chase. The Ex is a fantastic lay.

He's damn near perfect. Great size. Perfect shape. His skills are on point. He knows when to slow down, when to speed up, and is smart enough to know not to friggin' jack rabbit me. It doesn't hurt that he is extremely hot and that we have a sexual connection that makes things that much hotter. Not many guys(and there have been more than enough) are quite as good as he, so I have a tendency to want it from him.

In the conversations leading to the end of our together-ness, I offered him an offer that I thought he couldn't refuse: to be a no strings attached stress reliever at least 3 times per week. The bastard turned me down. I spent weeks without, which made me completely insane. Because I think that I NEED sex. I crave it. Taking matters into my own hands, literally, gets old fast.

Lately, The Ex has been trying to rekindle some of what was good before things went bad in our relationship. Me, being the smut that I am, used this as an opportunity to talk him into bed. It worked. And it was fantastic, as it's always been. But now, one day later, I'm craving it again. I know this isn't such a great idea, but if you read you know that I tend to do stupid shit.

Don't get me wrong. The Ex is hot. He's great fun to be around(and even more fun in bed). I can't be with him, though. He's an idiot, a liar, a cheater, and has serious commitment issues. We dated for nearly a year and, after about 3 months of dating, I began to see his shady ways. It was tough to be with him, but I often couldn't help myself. Now, I don't want to be with him and I've told him that. The sex is great, he's a cool guy, but all he can be is my jumpoff.

And the text is sent...

He Returns...

Anyone who knows me knows that I love Queens of the Stone Age. I can relate to a lot of their lyrics and the band just kind of rocks. Very me. It's what gets me motivated to run hill sprints. It gets me through some frustrating times. It's just damn good music.

Today, The Ex returned. Today with an email. So, like a fool, I entertain it to get my rocks off. He ended up calling me. I sang this song to him:

Hypocritical Much?

Yesterday, I had a conversation with LB about my nutrition and training practices. I generally eat a vegetarian diet, consuming fish only a few times per month, and I am very careful about what I do eat. I train hard, lifting several times per week as well as a few sessions of cardio. Yes, I'd like to lose a couple of 20 lbs, but what girl doesn't?

In the past, LB and I have discussed girls that he thinks are hot. No, I did not initiate the conversation. Yes, it was utterly ridiculous and I realize I should have cut it short. I mostly entertained it to see where his head was and what he liked physically. Of course, I heard the typical Beyonce, Halle Berry, Jessica Alba answer. Don't get me wrong: these are beautiful women with beautiful bodies, but I am not even close to that.

That's not to say that I don't think I'm beautiful either. Hell, I think I'm pretty damn hot in a Sara Ramirez sort of way. And I've got muscles, too! Without this layer of fat, I'm a pretty bad broad. And although I think that I am just as sexy as Jennifer Hudson, I'm not quite good enough to be as hot as Beyonce. At least as far as the media and the general population are concerned.

What makes this so ridiculous with LB is not that he thinks those women are hot. We all have preferences. LB made the comment that if a woman looks good, she looks good. He noted that he thinks I am hot and I don't need to lose weight. When I told him about the pressures of society, he stated;

"That's not true. Jennifer Hudson is hot. She could stand to lose 10 or 15 lbs, but she's still hot. If she didn't lose it, she'd be hot."

Say what?

Who? Moi?

Yesterday, a friend told me that I was too boring. She asked what I had planned this weekend and, truly, I had nothing. Hang out with my parents, tidy my place, the normal things. Truth be told, I'm working hard at saving money so to that when my house is complete, I can buy the things that I want and need and feel secure about the decision to do so.

Of course, she protested.

And, as it ended, I didn't do a damn thing! I tidied my place, went to my parents' house for a while, and crashed on the sofa to watch a movie. A movie I've seen a million times, but can't get enough of watching. I'm a romantic at heart, but not one that truly believes in love the way you see it on TV. Under the Tuscan Sun is not a sap-tastic romance, but more of my idea of love. You see what you think is love, it smiles at you then slaps you in the face, and walks of content knowing it just screwed you over. With that said...

Where can I get one of these?

(Yes, I know that this was one of her loves slapping her in the face. But, please...just let one like that smile at me. He can slap me, too. I might like it!)

Will I ever learn?

I'll be honest: I do stupid things. No matter how smart, how amazing, or how great you think I am, I do stupid things. Every Friday, I'll be posting a countdown of the 3 most idiotic things I've done for the week. Let's get this party started right:

3. Attempting to rationalize with Little Bit - You see, Little Bit, who I will refer to as LB, is a younger guy. Much younger. In an effort to create a situation that should have been easy for the both of us, I tried explaining why we could never be together and why he should see other people. Of course, LB doesn't quite understand my idea of "managing expectations."

2. Attempting to rationalize with pompous arses - I think this is pretty clear. It just ain't happening.

1. Admitting to going on a date with someone else - This is always a questionable act. The outcome can be either really good or really, really bad. LB didn't seem to get the message when we spoke about expectations, so I thought telling him that I was going on date with another guy would have taken care of any dreams he had of being in a relationship with me. Not only did I admit this to him, but I blocked all incoming calls so that he could not contact me even if he wanted. Unfortunately, things did not go as planned. Now, I have a whining, crying, tempermental male human on my hands who appears will stop at nothing to convince me that I should not date other people and be with him. I can be assured that this will follow me through next week and into the top 3 again.

Oh, joy.

Missing the top 3 by a sliver of stupidity: (1)Taking caffeine pills at a ridiculous hour, causing loss of sleep and a generally crappy attitude and (2)doing something terribly mean to LB in hopes that he would get the message. He didn't.

The weekend is here, my prime time for more stupidity. It's on!

The Moment of Enlightenment

"That's why you're sitting there alone."

Those are the famous last words from a loving relative at the height of the most ridiculous arguement I've ever had in my life. Being that said relative has the perfect life: great job, great(so it appears) marriage, great(or, so they hope) kids, the comment stung. In the heat of the moment or drunk, people are usually most honest. Is this what said relative thought of me? That I was alone because I was not quite capable of sitting down and shutting up?

Well, I'll be damned.

Truth be told, I can't pinpoint one particular reason why I am single. Maybe it's because my dating experiences have been less than optimal. Or maybe I am not quite into being in a serious relationship at the time. Quite possibly, it's because I'm so sick of dealing with pompous arses that I'd rather toy with them and enjoy myself while they drive themselves mad.

No reference to noted relative being a pompous arse, but whatever.

My last relationship was with The Ex. The Ex was a nice looking guy of the tall, dark, and handsome variety. He was also a user who broke it off with me because I was not willing to support him and his silly spending habits. He found it ideal to date others who were willing to give him money while in a 'relationship' with me. This did not bode well for The Ex, who begged relentlessly for 2 months before I blocked him from calling me. Alas, I think he is gone for good.

This blog will chronical what it's like to be a late twenty-something living in a metropolis - the good, the bad, and the ugly. And boy, does it get ugly...