Always Carry the Beat

Let’s get one tiny detail out of the way. Right now. Straight from the start and straight from the heart: It sucks being the only single girl at the table.

Put your hands up, up!

Even worse? Hearing your gal pals talk about guys they know, mostly single guys,  in the hopes of possibly giving me a chance to find someone nice, someone who will treat me like the lady and princess I am, and someone who will fight their battles against me but still like me all the same, and the end result? They’re all too old or not in the same interest fields.

Now if they all possessed the looks, charm, and ambition of Cooper Anderson, maybe I wouldn’t be so picky,

Trust me, I know opposites attract, but these ones just would not mesh with me. One happened to be a vegan. How die-hard a vegan, I can’t be sure, but if a guy can’t stand the thought of me eating a juicy burger or medium-rare cooked steak, it’s a done deal. I like my meat more than any guy any day.

How is your mouth not watering right at this very moment?

It might sound stupid, but it’s the truth. I like to eat, plain and simple.

We had a few beers, but I wasn’t really in the mood to be drinking. Pineapple Habanero salsa and tortilla chips along with a glass of water with lemon sufficed perfectly well for me. And Jeez, we went through three baskets of chips! Damn, they were delicious. The perfect mix of crunchy and salty — my two favorite kinds of food of all time.

Totally delicious and not as spicy as one would think containing the word ‘Habanero’.

Sitting with my water and listening to two other women squawk about how their boyfriends/husbands piss them on the most random things, I’m sitting there, thinking, “Be happy you have someone  to be pissed at about something as stupid as whether he’s standing beside you the entire time you’re shopping at Target.”

“When I think of some of the men I’ve slept with…if they were women I wouldn’t have had lunch with them.”

Carol Siskind, a nightclub nabob, has hit it right on the money. Which is why I have recognized the fact I really don’t get along with that many women. The ones I do, great! There are a handful I tolerate. The rest? Forget about them. I’m not nose diving into your catty, passive-aggressive ways of tearing a person down, and that includes over a meal. If I want a damn platter of onion rings, I’m going to have a damn platter of onion rings!

She sounds like her understands the male mind almost TOO well.

Me? On the guy front? I have no one. Not even a dog to cuddle me to sleep when I’ve had the roughest of rough days. I don’t even have a fish to come home to watch swim around his little bowl and spew my deepest inner thoughts to after everything is said and done. I have Yoda, sitting here patiently on my couch, always watching and always waiting for me to come and sit by him, possibly use him as a pillow. He’s usually the one who sits in the passenger seat when I make a solo trip anywhere, and we talk. Or I should say, I talk and he listens with that calm smile plastered across his face.

How can you not fall in love with that face!

Yoda is an excellent listener. I wouldn’t keep taking him on car rides if he wasn’t. He’s seen me sing so loud, other cars next to mine are surely able to hear me loud and clear. He’s seen me laugh on the phone with my best girlfriends. He’s seen me freak out because I’m lost in the middle of the cities yet again. He’s seen me swear and cuss at idiot drivers and at myself. He’s seen me cry over unexpected break-ups, sad movies, or terrible conversations that should have gone differently.

He’s seen me through a lot, and he will always be my Master in that sense. Why? Whenever I have one of the above explained moments, I talk to him and then the resolution usually dawns upon me just as quickly as the problem settled on my shoulders.

Incredibly wise, this one is.

The radio is always playing  in the car. There are songs for everybody which remind you of someone or a specific moment in the lives we’ve led so far. ‘Gangnam Style‘ takes me to a time my best friend and I were sitting on the couch after months of not seeing each other while watching A New Hope. Faith Hill’s ‘This Kiss‘ takes me back to singing karaoke at the hometown tavern a mile from my home after a successful opening night of the first summer stock show I starred in, leading role and everything. ‘The Joker‘ will always and forever bring me back to my cousin’s wedding when my most recent ex-boyfriend and I were the only ones tearing up the dance floor, and I never smiled so much in my life (and he wasn’t that much of a dancer, either.)

This Kiss…oh yeeeeeeah

These moments are heartbreaking, smile-inducing, and embarrassing. Along with the great dancing moments, there are the songs that played in the background during first kisses, first dances, and innumerable  flirtations. A warning for all: the Rascal Flatts is not the best tunes to be playing when you think things may go beyond kissing. Seriously, heed my words.

The Rascal Flatts are meant for very sentimental and heart-breaking moments…not for heated can’t-keep-my-paws-off-you instances.

We’ve all been there, we’ve all been transported back in time to that one moment specific to the song. Music is a magical thing and speaks to us in way normal words never will.

It brought this family back together (via August Rush!)

Yoda knows this. He gets it.

Maybe I’ve found my dream man after all.

On second thought….THIS is my dream man (and he can sing, too!)

Done, Done, Done. Did I mention I’m Done?

These fits of frustration and anger towards no one in particular need to end, and they need to end now.

Just a little irritated. No big deal or anything.

They come completely out of nowhere, too. Well, that’s not entirely true. Lately, I’m set off my the littlest sign of affection between two people clearly in love with each other or clearly enjoying the genuine flirtation of another human being towards them. The worst? When I’m in a room and my sister decides to start macking on her husband. Yes, I realize they are newlyweds and this is totally acceptable behavior. When my lucky day comes when I get to walk through  my front door and come home to a delicious hunk of men, I hope I do the same thing.

I get it. I really do. They are so totally and undeniably in love! (Aaack!)

But right now? Not only does it make me want to chuck a teacup at the back of their heads, but I also want to vomit. After the wave of nausea passes, I then proceed to sulk out of the room. I could exit with my own theme music blaring through the room, and I bet you they wouldn’t even notice. So now what have I started to do? Whenever they happen to enter the room I’m inhabiting, I just slip out. Unless I’m cooking. I can’t exactly leave the stove on with a pot of soup about to boil over.

Every single time…Can I just have some alone time where you two aren’t sucking face every time I turn around?

I knew this was going to happen. It was bound to. It’s not like I didn’t have enough forewarning. But lately, I just can’t handle. Why? Oh, I don’t know…Maybe because another member of the male race reared his ugly head and proved just how downright awful men can be. Now, let me stop you. I’m not saying all men are scum. Not true. Each of my sisters has found a gem, and they better hold on to them with all their might.

I need a hero.

Me? I’m keeping the scum occupied so every other woman on this planet can find their true, genuine soul mate while I’m left in the dust wondering what the hell just happened.

“Good judgement comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgement.”

Rita Mae Brown, a high-profile book writer, where were you when I started to get all interested in this dating business? Where were you to shake my shoulders like the demon devil himself was festering inside of me? To be fair, I can’t really say no said ‘I warned you.’ There were plenty of warnings. I simply made the decision to “have fun” and see where the wind would take me, but even “having fun” starts to wear on a person’s soul pretty heavily.

Of course she would be holding a cat. Of course.

Is this going to be the never-ending story to my love life? I really hope not.

Look at all those blank pages…waiting to be written….yikes.

The fact is, I let myself be happy for a few minutes. I was aware I was letting my guard down, and as I walked to my car one night, I felt it all trickle in. I felt the ooey-gooiness take over, and I reminded myself not to feel like that. Something was bound to happen (the wise and powerful Force speaks loudest when we need to really hear something). So I made a choice. I allowed myself the drive home to smile like an idiot, to sing wildly to the songs on the radio, and fall onto my couch with an equally ooey-gooey romantic comedy to settle down for the night.

Literally let myself skip to my car, and let out a high-pitched giggle.

Not even ten minutes after I hit play, I read a text message that I had forewarned myself against. Good thing I was prepared, and my defenses weren’t far behind. What I couldn’t prepare for? Two days later, it was like walking through a door someone booby-trapped with a bucket of water. Drenched and unsuspecting, I sat staring at the text messages on my phone, and vowed right then and cut off all ties.

If my subconscious had a facial expression at that exact moment…this would be it.

God and I had a very serious talk that night. I told him I was done with duds. I was done with being run over and taken and being thought of as a piece of pie. I am done with putting in too much with no hope of getting anything back in return. I told him a few choice words, too.

No, I will not be put on hold. I want to talk to the Big Man Upstairs NOW!

The best part? Once I was done, I didn’t feel frantic, scared, or worried I would never find my match. Instead, I felt incredibly calm, like God was patting me on the back, saying “No worries, girl. I got your back. Until then, you’re going to be okay. Promise.”

I sure hope you’re right, G-man.

Sporting Good Luck

I haven’t written in too long, and I only have a limited amount time for my catch-up here, so let’s get down to it.

Don’t make me open a can of whoop-ass right now.

Hockey games and martini’s go together so, so, so WELL! I have season tickets with  my sister, but due to a destination bachelorette party her friends planned for her, she was away for the first home hockey game of the season. Plus it was season opener. How dare she?! (I was invited to this party, but alas, I had to work. So more hockey for me!)

Always and forever my first hockey team love!

I asked a guy to go with me whom I’ve had drinks with before. He more than happily agreed, and we had quite a good time. I forgot how refreshing it is to go on a date with someone who actually enjoys sporting events as much as I do. No crude marks for wearing my team’s jersey, or for going crazy when we made a goal, or getting annoyed when I yelled at the refs for their crappy calls. It was SO NICE.

As much as I admire the Queen, you gotta be able to scream your lungs out when it’s tied at the end of the 3rd period.

After the game and fighting the swarming mobs of cars trying to get out the parking lot as quickly as I was attempting, we met up at nice little classy bar for a few drinks. A couple of cucumber presses later, and I am falling down the single step separating our table from the actual floor. No, I was not drunk, but I certainly was tipsy. So sue me! Tucked away in a little corner, it only helped the mood when he pulled me in for a kiss of his own.

Can you resist the heat?

Oh my goodness, I just got goosebumps remembering it.

“I honestly believe there is absolutely nothing like going to bed with a good book. Or a friend who’s read one.”

Naughty, naughty Phyllis Diller, the doyenne of domestic comedy.

She looks harmless now…

No, neither of us went home with the other. We have higher morals and standards than that (and it was only the 2nd date.) But he did kiss me good night again while we parted ways on the street corner. How much romantic does it get?

Gotcha again! There were no stormtroopers around, otherwise I would have had a fight on my hands!

Agin with the goosebumps. Oh-oh-oh!

I have so many things to get done for the wedding in the next three weeks that I literally can’t think about romancing or romancing for that matter. I simply have too many obligations right now, and I certainly need to get on the ball if I’m going to get ‘Maid of Honor’ printed onto a layering tank top on time. Ultimate MOH fantasy? A crisis has occurred on the morning of the wedding, and I rip open the front of my button-down shirt (because everyone knows when you go to the salon to get your hair done, you wear a button-down shirt so you don’t have to pull a shirt up and over your head hence wrecking your hair!) and beneath the shirt is my flashing ‘MOH’ shirt, and I run to the rescue with my nifty emergency kit, and I save the day!

Maid of Honor to the rescue!!!! Da-da-da DAAAAAAAA!

AND THE CROWD GOES WILD!

Alas, I really hope that doesn’t happen. The wedding day needs to go smoothly. God only knows what else He has in store for that day other than what we’re all expecting.

And for the first time tonight, I’m happy it’s not my wedding day in three weeks!

On that note I’m going to be taking off now so I can meet some old friends for a very late dinner. Since the hockey game, I’ve turned into a total athletics junkie. So what else are you supposed to do…but show your team spirit?!

Here are a few ways for you to extend your athletic cheer!

*So adorable! Hand-dipped football strawberries!

Almost TOO adorable to eat. Almost.

*Add sporty style to your favorite bottles of vino.

These would make me want to drink more.

*Cute cutting board is made from durable bamboo.

And when your team loses, feel free to hack away at it!

*Make charming football cupcakes with this decorating kit!

Cupcake decorating really is an art form.

*Grill up a great time. Cuisinart’s”Petit Gourmet” portable tabletop model is perfect for tailgating!

Wherever I can eat a grilled steak, I’m a happy woman

Sweet dreams, my friends, and this Jedi is bursting with adventures to share and lessons learned.

Until next time…Charge On!

A Jedi’s work is never done.

Dating for Dummies

Dating. I’ve never had such a nasty taste in my mouth after saying a word.

Such a nasty, gargling foam in the back of my throat. Ack…

Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to be in a committed relationship. I’d love to have someone to cuddle and call whenever I was feeling blue. I would more than certainly love to have someone to say “I love you” to at the end of every phone conversation. But the road I need to take in order to get there? Yeah, I may need a breath mint right about now since this taste in my mouth is getting worse.

According to an article on Thought Catalog, Tom Hanson tops the list of most perfect fictional boyfriends. I heartily agree!

Maybe I’m at a point in my life where I’m content and need to focus on me. Or, like many other women, I’m sure, it’s scary to think about dating. But, wait…what about those dates I went on with New Guy, and a few other chosen males in the past year or so since my ugly break-up? What about New Guy’s Best Friend who keeps things interesting with he occasional text here and there? About the gushing cries of “omg I really like this guy, oh man I can’t wait to go out again?”

Yeah, I think I was still in a phase of the break-up. They were all very nice guys, the ones I went out with (until they pulled a very douche bag move and made me change my perspective on the male race entirely yet again.)

I might have to draw a line somewhere.

There are nice guys out there. I know this. Everyone knows this. They’re not just going to pop out of the ground like gophers and say, “I’m a nice guy! Date me!” No, I’d certainly be in a fantasy world if that were the case. I think I’m tired of looking for them. Come on, what sounds better? Sitting on the couch, watching the TV show YOU want to watch, eating an entire bowl of extra buttery popcorn without having to share (and no one poking your waist, giving you a hint to watch the caloric intake), and the fact you look like crap with your hair up in a loose ponytail and a large, polka-dotted headband holding the loose hairs out of your eyes? No one cares! Your roommate might say something, but hey, it’s your roommate, and we’re friends. Tell her to go eat another Ding-Dong and get back to your show.

Ah, go shove it up your arse!

Then there’s the primping and the prepping for who knows what kind of night. Will you go to a nice restaurant? Will he pull a 180 and take you for a walk instead? Is it just a coffee date? If it’s dinner, what do you order? Not  a salad, because let’s face it, we all know I like to eat. But not a steak or a burger…too messy. Hair up? Down? Jewelry…too much could be a bad sign, but not enough could show you might not care at all. Plus, you have to shave your legs, tweeze the eyebrows, gloss the lips, and make the eyeliner perfect. Perfume can’t be too heavy, but it shouldn’t be too light so he literally puts his nose into the crook of your neck to try to catch a whiff of something other than B.O. and sweat.

Guys, you have no idea what we go through!

Attractive, isn’t it?

“Dinner is a waste on a first date, because you don’t want the guy to se how much you can really eat. He’ll find out soon enough I can put my entire head in a Haagen-Dazs tub.”

I love your words of wisdom Maryellen Hooper, a professional leg puller. Seriously, what is considered the “right” thing to eat when out on a first date? It’s a question I don’t think any one person can truly answer with definite confidence. Maybe Cosmopolitan magazine, but sometimes I wonder if they test their own advice. Buffalo chicken wings on a first date? Um, no thank you.

On top of everything, she’s a gorgeous goofball.

The date isn’t over yet, meaning the panic should only be setting in. You’ve made it through dinner, he’s walking you to your door (or maybe you’re still sitting his car!) He reaches a hand over, places it on your knee. You turn to say good night face-to-face. Omg, is this the part where he kisses you good night? What if none of this stuff happens and there is no kiss good night at all? Multiple reasons could be true, but if you had a good time and he’s cute, you’re not going to think logically at this point in time. Instead, you will be calm, cool, and collected on the outside (like any great woman would be), but on the inside, you are screaming, crying, smashing your purse against the door the minute it shuts behind him….Lots of crazy action no one should ever be privy to.

Never ask to see a girl’s closet unless you already live with her.

Dating is a lot of panic, a lot of heartache, and a lot of waiting. It’s so much easier when you’ve known the person, and suddenly, it’s not dating. You’ve just become the couple you’ve always felt like you were. There’s no more questioning, and it gets to be fun saying, “I have a date tonight!”

I miss getting to wear outfits like this, and caring so much about a single outfit.

I haven’t had a night like that for some time. Know what? I’m okay with that. I need to figure me out in so many ways yet. If Mr. Wonderful should pass me on the street and ask me out, I won’t decline the offer. You never know, he might be my Special Someone. He could be the next on the long list of guys I’ve been out on a date with. You just never know.

Wish he was a part of my dating history…

The Force likes to keep us guessing…or it likes to remind us that relationships aren’t exactly the Jedi Way. But if I can successfully hold a steady relationship with Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, I can certainly keep a steady relationship with the right guy.

Hello, my two fave Dairy men in the world.

In the meantime, I’m enjoying the start of fall and the month of September, and here are my fave things about this month:

- Textbooks

I do miss finding that rare textbook I actually liked reading.

- Campus

Walking across the campus of your college is a feeling one doesn’t forget anytime soon.

- Cafeteria

Any place that gives out food is okay in my book.

- Teachers

I still might want to be one…

- Dormitories

Living in the dorms is an experience I will never forget…but I wouldn’t live in those little rooms again if I had to.

- Autumn Leaves

Absolutely breathtaking!

- Football

I can’t lie…I love watching muscular men pound each other to the ground over a tiny pigskin ball.

It’s hard to believe this month is practically over already. That’s what happens when you’re having fun…and pinpointing all the possible ways why I am still a single woman in this day and age.

Far too many reasons…I just need to stop my brain from thinking.

HA! I know the real reason. Men are scared of me, plain and simple. I know I’m a lot to handle, but you know what? If there’s a guy out there who can handle me without thinking he can tame me, we’ll get along just fine. I just have to wait for him and I to cross paths.

Where’s the Jack in my life? Is he coming? Will he draw me?

In the meantime, this Jedi is going to keep being real…and that means eating what I want in whatever quantities I want.

Salmon sounds good for dinner, doesn’t it?

Or maybe even a nice pair of rabbits with potatoes, eh Sam?

Here’s to the husbands who’ve won you, the losers who’ve lost you, and the lucky bastards who’ve yet to meet you.

Well, what do you know? It’s another Friday, and is it sad to say that I’m sort of dreading it? My work day isn’t going to be all that bad. I have the office all to myself again, and I have an event in the middle of the afternoon where mostly I’ll sit, wave, and clap to those walking through a Welcome Line. The I return to my office to finish up a few things, head out for the day to home and throw a few clothes and my toothbrush into a duffel, jump back into my car to head off to my part-time job. When that is done, I jump back in my car to drive 3 hours down to the cities because tomorrow I am getting my day at the State Fair.

I’ve gone every year since I was 5. How can I even consider missing it?

I can taste that deep-fried candy bar already. Mmmmm-mmmmm good!

Come to momma!

While I know that one food indulgence takes care of my calorie count for the entire week, I don’t care. It’s the State Fair. You’re supposed to consume more than three times your normal food intake, feel terrible about yourself, and then go home and rave about all the things you ate.

Then wait for it to come back around the following year only to stuff yourself like a pig once again.

I don’t feel guilty about it at all. In fact, I’m officially joining a gym on Tuesday, so I’ll be raring to get those extra 2000 calories off my behind and sweating onto the gym floor.

Bring it on!

I do have to share this one little funny story. It’s kind of ironic considering the state of bliss I was in after being swept off my feet by Josh Groban in Dreamland the previous night, but my sister and I stopped at our old apartment for the last time. A desk I inherited from her previous roommate free of charge still remained in my old bedroom and it needed to be moved out to the dumpster yet. After tipping it every which way to find the best carrying position for it, we managed to rip it apart more than a little bit. If you’re thinking about buying a desk, one thing to keep in mind: How hard it is going to be to move? This particular desk was not well-thought out. Awkward, heavier than heavy, and none of the doors stayed shut (maybe why I got it for free?).

Except it wasn’t cheap plastic from Ikea. It was solid wood and twice as big.

Us two girls managed to get it out to the trash and shoved into a dumpster ALL MY OURSELVES! (Hear us roar!!!!) I must not have dusted the thing ever. Once it was in the dumpster and out of our hands, I looked down at my sweatpants and there were streaks of gray and fuzz all over the place. (Not going to lie…dusting furniture is not always a #1 priority with me.) Anyways, we continued to get the last few things moved out and I was carrying the top compartmentalized portion of the desk (which we managed to rip off…YES!) This was no small piece of shelving. Not that it was heavy, just slight cumbersome.

Hear. Us. ROOOOOOAR!

I’m struggling to get the door and miraculously do not lose my footing walking down the steps, and start walking to my car. Suddenly, I look up and a nicely dressed guy is grabbing his bag out of his car. A small buzzer goes off in my head, saying, “You know him! You know him!” He starts walking in my direction, and his face lights up when he sees me. He greets me rather enthusiastically, and I respond in kind. “Hey hows its going?” “Hey there! I’m doing pretty well!” We go out separate directions.

Kinda felt like this, except in the manner of 10 seconds.

The entire trek to my car, I’m asking myself how I know him and from where. Then it dawns on me. He’s the guy I met randomly at a bar about a month back while checking out a band with a work friend of mine. He’s the one who approached me and tried holding a conversation with me when the band was blaring so obnoxiously loud, and I couldn’t hear a word unless he literally stuck his lips on my ear and spoke. So freaking loud! After awhile, he bought me and my friend a couple of rounds of drinks and eventually we left where we were sitting so we could actually talk elsewhere in the bar. I didn’t know at the time if I thought he was attractive because of the tequila I’d been downing or if I genuinely thought he was cute.

These tend to get me in trouble.

Turns out, I genuinely thought he was cute. Because seeing him yesterday….daaaaaaaang! Pretty dang cute.

Anyways, after getting back to the house, I just had to text him to see if it was him. Sure enough, it was and he had recognized me, too. We chatted for a bit, and I brought up the fact he had asked me for drinks about a week or two ago, but I had never heard from him since. If I remember correctly, he was out-of-town one week and then seemed pretty swamped with work the following. But whatever. I never heard from him, and just assumed he lost interest or was really busy. I could deal with that. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve also been swamped.

Truth!

But we have a potential date for next week. He’s no Josh Groban, but hey, it’s a date, isn’t it?

“Don’t waste time trying to break a man’s heart; be satisfied if you can just manage to chip it in a new place.”

The tempting words of Helen Rowland, a modern maximist.

I’m pretty sure I know her from somewhere…

I can’t say I left him drooling and dazzled at my charm yesterday enough to make him regret not getting a hold of me sooner. I was covered in dust fuzzballs, gray chalky dust, make-up smeared, and hair half-thrown back hazardously. In my professional opinion, not cute at all. But that’s my opinion.

I was about as attractive as our dear Kate Hudson here.

Another funny thing? Turns out we’ve been living in the same apartment building for the last five months and we’ve never run into each other once.

Sometimes, I tell myself to stop trying to figure out life. The Force will guide me one way or another, but it will not steer me wrong.

Listen to your gut, and not what the liquor is telling you.

Trust in that. Trust in that.

And because I’m now obsessed with this song….Happy Friday!

I’m a Big Girl Now

Well, where to being with my weekend.

Let’s dive right on in…

It started out with the best Friday imaginable. I got the phone call I’ve been waiting for since graduating from the Academy. Oh, yes. After dozens of applications and too many hours to count of energy being poured into cover letters, I can now say it has all successfully paid off.

You’re looking at a fully employed, Star Wars loving and blogging  individual!

That’s right. In the matter of a few week’s time, I will be assuming a position behind my new desk and working in the field of communications, marketing and event planning. The best part? I’m only working the occasional night and weekend, whenever an event is going on. In a few week’s time, I’ll be working normal business hours like the majority of the world. I’ll be able to plan evenings out with people…I won’t have to fight two different schedules if I happen to get asked out on a date…When I say I’m coming home for the weekend to visit, I can actually go home on the weekend to visit!

Not quite to the Gray Havens, but this is how great is feels to this that way.

It’s the little things that are making me the happiest individual in the world right now. Well…I wouldn’t say the happiest, but at this current moment in time, two out of the three major areas of my life are successfully working.

In case you’re unsure of what three areas of life I’m talking about, I’m referring to the Social, Professional, and Love areas of my life. My professional life is preparing for take-off. I’m assuming my first Big Girl Job (with my own desk, computer, and everything! They’re even bringing in someone to adjust my chair and computer to the heights required for me to work in a healthy work environment. Like, holy crap! I’m getting my chair adjusted as a part of my job!)

My Social life is doing pretty decently. I’ve been reconnecting with my sister in new ways, which has been really nice. Especially with her wedding looking ever closer with each passing day. But, I’ve been catching up with friends, hanging out with old ones, and just living life the way its meant to be lived.

Hey there, I could use another martini.

My Love life on the other hand…well, let’s just say it’s lacking. Incredibly lacking in every way possible. I don’t know where things went wrong, or even if things are wrong. The guy I’ve been seeing for a couple of months now and I clearly on two different pages, and I’m not quite sure how it got this far separated. Since we started seeing each other again up until now, we always texted each other a little something throughout the day. Nothing lovey-dovey or mushy or anything like that. Little tidbits of information, like MMA was a huge factor in defining Bane’s fighting style in The Dark Knight Rises, or how Peter Jackson might be turning The Hobbit into a three-part saga. Things we’re both interested in, and as we send it, we know the other person is going to appreciate it.

I’ve got all this attention, but it’s not the kind I’m after at the moment.

This past weekend was the first time we didn’t communicate at all. No phone call, no texts, no nothing. Even when I went home for a 3-day weekend for the Bachelorette Party, he texted me merely to say ‘Hope you’re having a good time.’ Something like that.

“It’s not that men fear intimacy…it’s that they’re hypochondriacs of intimacy: They always think they have it when they don’t.”

Lorrie Moore, a major American novelist, makes me think the worst in my current love life situation. I don’t know what else I can do here. Any major, drastic moves I make will either scare the poor guy away or he’ll really think I’m crazy and just write me off as the nut job he’ll never associate with again.

What’s your intimacy level? Hmmmm? (Don’t actually answer that.)

On top of everything, we’re now on a sort of unspoken radio silence. Why? I have no clue, and all I want to do is get it all out in the open. If we’re on the same page, then fine. But if I’m under the impression this relationship is going somewhere different from he’s thinking, we both need to be aware of that.

At this point in time, I don’t want us resorting back to dropping off the planet from each other for month’s on end like we’ve done in the past.

Never a good thing…

Only time will tell, however. A part of me didn’t want to give in and text him first, merely so I could see how long it would take him to text me, if he even decided to text me at all. But I gave in about an hour ago and shot one off asking how his weekend was and if  he’d want to get together this evening.

Maybe?

Like I said, time will tell.

Other than the three ares of my life trying to figure themselves out, it’s been a pretty freaking spectacular weekend. I was in the best mood ever while at work on Saturday (where my main other coworker quit, so who got asked to pull a double with only 8 hours notice. THIS girl, of course) because I see the light at the end of the tunnel. In three weeks time, I will be starting my new job, and hopefully will never face the possibility of working on Christmas Day ever again.

I’ll be working lots of overtime to compensate for our lost employee. Extra money in my pocket, and I’ll soon be done, so I’m okay with it.

Sunday turned out to be unbelievably gorgeous, so what else is there to do but hit up the beach on one of the hottest days of the year. We hit the sand, blew up a few kiddie sized inner tubes and floating mattresses, and floated in the lake for a solid hour and a half. Finally dragged ourselves out of the water to grab refreshments and a tropical frozen fruit bar (which was remarkably delicious). Laid on our towels for a tiny bit before flipping ourselves over on the floaties to go back out on the water.

My skin might not think so, but it was heavenly out on that lake.

At the end of the day and looking at my tan lines in the mirror, I can happily say I am well-done

Since I missed it due to my brain exploding in happiness, here’s my overdue reasons (besides the big obvious reason) why my Friday was so Fabulous:

Fabulous Summer Outfit:

Simple and edgy. My kind of style, plus the necklace is just too cute.

Fabulous Video: The Dark Knight Rises meets The Lion King. Winner!

Fabulous Bit of Inspiration:

Glam and fab while working hard. Angelina is my type of girl.

Fabulous DIY Project:

Card Box I want to make for my sister’s wedding reception. The colors will change, of course!

Fabulous Healthy Summer Recipe:

Broccoli Crunch Salad. Very easy and very scrumptious.

Fabulous Olympian to Watch:

Ryan Lochte. Enough said.

Fabulous Superhero Obsession:

Can I join forces with you, Bruce Wayne?

Fabulous Weekend Calorie Splurge:

A blooming onion. Is it terrible of me to say I have eaten an entire one by my lonesome? Oh, yes I have. The next morning wasn’t so pleasant.

Fabulous Reason Why I’m Better Than My Sister:

Fabulous Packing List:

It’s got a little bit of everything!

Fabulous Dork Icon:

Fabulous Summer Zen:

Fabulous Under Garments:

Warning! Dork Alert!

Fabulous Memo to Oneself:

Fabulous Women’s Empowerment Via the Queen:

Make sure to tune and cheer for your country as the Olympics continue to unfold! I know I’ve found myself shouting at the TV on more than one occasion in the last three days, and I’m very upset you can’t live stream simply on the internet so I can watch while I’m at work here. Oh well, if the weather continues to be cloudy, I’ll be plopped on the couch cheering for the good ol’ USA.

Last time I heard, we were in 2nd place for country’s with the most medals won!

Good luck to all, and may the odds be ever in your favor.

It’s Summer Nights!

Surprise, surprise. I haven’t written for a few days.

Tis the summer spirit. You know why I say that? On a whim, I was looking at my schedule and realized I had nothing planned for a span of three days. No projects, no work, no nothing. What else would I do on these unscheduled days, other than maybe go to the beach and get my tan on harder than before.

It would have been an acceptable use of my time. I even could have caught up on that stack of books on my night table or that stack of magazines lining my bedroom floor….

So many to read and draw creativity and inspiration from!

OR I could swing myself down to a town and see a handful of friends I haven’t seen in (after a small time of thinking and calculating) two years! These friends were my sanity chamber when I was in my second year at the Academy. It was a no-brainer decision.

GO SEE YOUR FRIENDS!

It wasn’t these friends I went to see, but they are pretty darn awesome.

And wouldn’t you know it…Fate decided to lay a lucky hand in my favor, and they also had time off in conjunction with my time. So, behold! The Journalism Gals were back together again. We had dinner, drinks, lots of laughter, and even more catching up on each other’s lives. It was utterly delightful! Who am I kidding….I was freaking psyched to see these girls. All of us are so different, and yet, so very alike.

Yes….we hugged like this. So what? We like each other, and we missed each other just as much!

Isn’t that normally how you find friends?

So, that’s where I’ve been. Now, I’m writing to you about it. Not going to lie…I’m not too motivated to do this. But, just like working out, you have to force yourself to do it, otherwise you’re never going to see results. When I started this blog, I told myself I would do it for at least a year…if I hated it a year later, then I would quit.

Thing is, I don’t hate doing it. I just hate starting and forcing myself to do it.

“On a good day I think I’m a relatively sane person with a few frayed wires. On a bad day I think, ‘Just lock me up.’”

Oh, how truthfully you speak interview icon, Rosie O’Donnell.  I’ve been called a fair amount of names in my life. Insane has been among them.

Didn’t you just love her in “A League of Thier Own?”

However, purely sane people never truly see what is it they’re after or how to get there. It takes an ‘outside the box’ thinker to really strive and reach for something in a new way. I guess you could say the Jedi are insane. As Han Solo would say, it just some “hokey religion.”

But, you were proven wrong, weren’t you, Han?

I’ve gotten myself in my fair share of crazy, insane situations as well. How else do you explain getting a text at 11:30 pm at night from New Guy (remember him?!), whom I haven’t seen since his lame attempt to “get back together with me” at the bar a week after he broke it off with me, all because I was talking to his best friend while waiting for the bartender to ring up my tab? Yeah, that was a ways back…and we’ve rarely spoken since then. His best friend and I have since had our encounters as well, but New Guys’ friend also never tried to keep me to himself.

I really wish I could just give him the arched eyebrow look, and say, “Excuse me, but do I know you?”

It’s the dating game, boys. Once you say you’re out, I’m not waiting around. I have bigger fish to fry.

Anyways, I’m knocking back a well-deserved and specially appreciated celebratory beer with my best friend (I’ve been having a small personal crisis for a few weeks, and it was resolved yesterday, so we were celebrating the lifting of this hellish time from my shoulders), and my phone buzzes. I’m thinking its our mutual friend wanting to come join us. Lo and behold, its New Guy. He’d seen somewhere (or I had mentioned it to him, I don’t quite remember) that I was in town, and if I wanted to come hang-out and crash in his bed after my drinking was said and over with, I was to let him know.

Perhaps if he looked like this, I wouldn’t have hesitated.

So, here’s me, celebrating the fact a small major crisis in my life had been averted, and I’ve had little to eat and plenty of beer in my tummy. Let’s just say, the alcohol was already going to my head.

There’s a reason I don’t drink a lot of dark beer!

It usually leaves a weird taste in the back of my throat.

Anyways, I fill in my friend of what’s going on, and she starts making up conversations we’d have if I went over to “hang out.” It didn’t take a brain scientist to know he wanted me over there for one reason and one reason only: to get down and dirty.

I wasn’t having it.

So, I asked him if my friend could come with me. This sparked New Guy’s interest. Two girls + him +his apartment + his bed = a very good night for him.

Just add one more, and he would have had his fantasy. Too bad I had a wrench in my pocket.

Or so he thought.

A small white life, perhaps, but when he responded with such liveliness and excitement, I told him, sure, we could do that. I’ve had enough to drink…if he didn’t mind my friend being a guy (in case you didn’t follow that, the white lie was my friend being a dude.)

This small (false) fact had the desired effect. His excitement instantly dropped, and he instantly seemed less interested…unless I came over by myself. Then, “we could still have a good time.”

See? We’re having a good time!

There was no way I was going over there in the state of my condition. Who knows what he may have tried?

Needless to say, I had a small bit of fun at his expense, but after the way he ended things with me, I’m okay with it. He deserved a small smack to his ego, anyways.

The ultimate take-down!

That is just one of the mere adventures I had over the past three days, and I’m sure the rest will come out in the upcoming week. But here is one thing I’m long overdue on, and it’s why my Friday was so Fabulous. I really want to share them with you, so here we go. My Fabulous Friday (even if it is majorly overdue!):

Fabulous Feeling:

Fabulous Smile:

What’s not to love about this?

Fabulous Decor Idea:

Empty bottles tilled with old-timey photos. Genius!

Fabulous Find:

Old school coffee mugs and extra-large for more coffee consumption? I’M ALL OVER IT!

Fabulous Boots:

100% country girl!

Fabulous Look:

Glamorous!

Fabulous Headshot:

Does she ever look terrible? I think not.

Fabulous Mean Girls:

Fabulous Arrangement:

Coral is the perfect color for summer time parties. Loving it!

Fabulous Laugh:

Fabulous Perspective:

Right before HAN SHOT FIRST!

Fabulous Treat: Find the reciple here!

Chocoholic Milkshake Delight

Fabulous Reading:

Fabulous Bit of Advice:

And now, it’s time for me to wrap things up. I shall share more with you tomorrow. Right now, a sandwich, a Vitamin Water, and a cozy chair with a magazine are calling my name.

It’s like reaching out with those cozy arms and saying, “Come cuddle with me!”

I’m a sucker for staying cozy at home.

Cozy is as cozy does.

Dating: Not Always a Picnic on the Beach

Trouble. What would life be without it?

The lovely website I often use called Dictionary.com defines Trouble in the following ways:

1.) “to disturb the mental calm and contentment of; worry; distress; agitate,”

Deeeep. Breeeeathe deeeeep.

2.)  ”to put to inconvenience, exertion, pains, or the like,”

3.)  ”to cause bodily pain, discomfort, or disorder to; afflict,”

Oh, the Hulk will cause you lots of trouble.

4.) “to annoy, vex, or bother,” or

Mr. Wiiiiiiiilsoooooooon!

5.)  ”to disturb, agitate, or stir up so as to make turbid, as water or wine.”

Now my question to you is…what draws us to trouble? Specifically, why do I (me, myself and I…the writer of this blog) continually walk into situations i know will not turn out in anyone’s best interest? Why do I keep letting my feet lead me to this point of no return? Why do I always think it sounds like a good idea at the time?

Why am I not smart enough to say “No” due to previous experience?

Wait, you want us to do what? We are SO in!

Because I’m young and dumb and don’t know any better.

It could almost be called the Bad Boy Syndrome every girl goes through at one point in their lifetime. We know the boy is all wrong for us…we know he seems to let his world revolve around you for the time being, but eventually, he is going to break your heart. It’s something we acknowledge the minute we pursue this Bad Boy…the thrill of the chase, however, overcomes our senses of logic. Our hormones get all out of whack and we simple think with everything BUT our logical side of the brain.

It all comes down to hormones, people. Biology can go to hell.

“I have wallowed with the vermin, so I know men’s minds.”

Perhaps its the day and time of our current era that has me doubting the actions of each and every single male I meet, but Mary “Mother” Jones, the uppity unionizer, has a point. Once you meet one bad apple, you’re bound to meet another. When you meet another after that, you start to assume all apples are bad. I may be alone in this, but I’m holding out hope for a good, juicy apple which tastes sweet upon the lips and is sweet throughout its entire being. There’s a good one amongst the entire bushel. There’s probably more than just a single good one. There’s bound to be a handful…patience is key here.

Despite the corset I know she’s wearing, Mary Mother Jones looks like she has quite the amount of sass.

It’s intimidating, sifting through the good and bad. It’s even harder when you find a good one, but discover the chemistry simply isn’t there. He’s bound to make another girl out there unbelievably happy. But, until I stumble upon my apple who’s going to prove gravity exists in my life, I’m going to continue to be attracted to these No-Good, Bad-For-Me candied apples.

Am I boring you with this metaphor yet?

We’ll throw in the Mac Apple, just for the sake of things.

Truthfully speaking, its tough on the heart and soul to continuously put yourself out there. To try to make a connection with someone. Every so often, you do find a connection. Whether it’s short-lived or long-term is to be decided in time. When you find out its fizzling in short-term territory, that’s when it hurts. Maybe I’m too sensitive with this stuff. I know a fair share of women who have a new guy on their arm days after a semi-serious relationship ends. They’re perfectly okay with it, too. Playing the field, as they say. Seeing what’s out there…Keeping their options entirely wide open…

I guess I’m a One Guy kind of gal.

Even in the heat of the battle, she remained true.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve tried my hand at dating multiple men at one time. Not only is it incredibly time-consuming, but it takes very strong organizational skills if you’re living as busy a life as I do. Between classes, hobbies, family and friend outings, a little me time, the occasional rehearsal, and whatever else life throws at me, squeezing in three dates a week with three different guys is incredibly trying. Although, pat yourself on the back if you see two of them in the same night. Not because you’re manipulating anyone…but because the stars aligned for it to match up that way. Makes it easier on the woman with the incredibly full weekly planner weighing down her purse.

Maybe I should start scheduling free time for myself…

How about the nights where Guy #1 calls when you’re in the middle of a date with Guy #3, and you don’t want Guy #3 to know about it? You can only ignore the phone calls and text messages for so long. Again…maybe I’m a pushover. I could simply take on the attitude of “I have a life outside of you, go away while i enjoy it away from you!” OR I can answer his calls/texts in a vague way.

STOP. CALLING. ME.

You’re right…I’m way too nice.

Regardless, it tired me out, and I started to think about how pissed I would be if I found out a guy I really liked was seeing two other women on the side outside of me. I totally understand the whole exclusive idea, and no one ever brought that up. So, technically, we were all able to be seeing more than one person, and maybe these guys were. But I also know two of them really, really liked me despite the fact I wasn’t ready to commit singly to either one of them.

I was too busy sowing my wild oats, as Dwight Schrute would say.

In the end, I learned aggressive dating wasn’t for me. I like to focus my attention on one guy, and one guy, only. Not only does it allow me the chance to discover is Vermin Rate much sooner, but it also allows me a chance to get to really know them other than worrying about how I would keep this information away from Guy #2. I also wouldn’t sit there and compare them all in my head. It hurts your brain trying to rate three different Pro’s and Con’s lists in your head all the time.

Is this typical behavior of women in the dating pool in this century? Believe it or not, I still consider myself slightly old-fashioned when it comes to dating.

You’re taking my shawl without me having to ask? Am I even wearing a shawl? It doesn’t matter because you’re actually being a gentlemen.

Ah, well…it’s Friday everyone! So, if you’re going out on a date tonight, enjoy every minute of it. Every woman deserves to be wined and dined occasionally, and remember to give the sucker a chance (unless he’s already proven to be a total douche in the first 10 minutes of the date…then just order the most expensive thing on the menu and get your free meal in exchange for putting up with him in a public place where *GASP* your friends might see you with a total jerk.)

Whatever your dating style, rock it out. You’re only young once. Heck, even if you’re in your 50s and dating (to which I applaud you! Way to get back out there!)The only requirement I demand? That he treat you like the princess you were born to be.

Choose the one who treats you best. No loser treatment for us, ladies!

Don’t undersell yourself, ladies. A Jedi knows her power and strength.

Be your own personal Super Woman.

No man can ever take that away.

No man can handle what these women’s eyes have seen.

Boy Likes Girl…So What’s My Problem?

About 12 minutes ago, I walked through my apartment, marking my arrival home from a date.

For the first time in my dating history, I walked through my door, set my purse down on my bedroom floor, sat down on my bed, and just sat. I didn’t have a ridiculous grin on my face. I didn’t have butterflies ransacking my stomach. Instead, I grabbed my planner to check the time I’m scheduled to work tomorrow morning, and proceeded to my kitchen to grab a glass of water.

I need a longer straw!

I’ve been really thirsty all night long for some reason. Dehydration, probably.

On top of that, I just want to pull my contacts out of my eyes and settle into the couch for a few episodes of The Office (a new season has been put on Netflix so I can catch up on another new season and get my Dwight fix.)

I’d have an office picnic with this bunch of loveable weirdos.

What is wrong with me? I should be jumping out of my skin with this one. It’s not that it was a horrible date. In fact, it was a really great date. We were out and about several beaches with his dog. I can’t tell you how much I love and miss my dog. Leaving my dog behind once again when I left home this past weekend broke a small piece of my heart, like it always does.

I didn’t leave you alone on purpose, I promise! I was coming back!

Since my last dog, I’m reminded that every time I leave home, I might not come home to my dog again. Rest in peace Titan. I miss you so much, buddy. Even when you chewed on my barn rubbers if I forgot to put them up on the porch railing over night. I still miss you, my sweet little puppy.

I got to be outdoors. I got to jump from rock to rock on the shore like I was a crazy woman, like I was a kid playing on the rock pile. Skipping rocks, playing fetch with his dog, and sitting with my feet dangling in the cool water while talking to my date. It was gorgeous out, and I had a cute guy sitting next to me.

It’s one way to cool off.

Then, we kept driving up the shoreline because there were a few places he wanted to show me because I had mentioned on previous dates I had never been to these places. So, basically a mini road trip.

After that, we didn’t turn off on the road we should have to return to his place. Instead, we kept going straight and I asked him what we were doing. We were going to pick up pizza from his favorite pizza place in town.

Nothing is more energizing than a slice of pizza after a long day of work.

What more could I ask for?

It continued to be a pretty wonderful afternoon while we watched Family Guy, Wipe-Out, and talked about new movies coming out we both really want to see. Savages, Brave, The Dark Knight Rises, and a whole handful of others. It really was a sweet afternoon, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Then, why when I come home from said date, do I sit down on my bed and wonder why I feel like nothing happened between us? Like, there was no spark or something? He did kiss me good night, and we have tentative plans for tomorrow evening/this weekend…so it went well. Right?

A kiss good night is usually a sign things went super well. I know I enjoy a kiss good night.

Then, why do I feel this way?

I’ve been finding myself in a funk a lot as the week has progressed. It may be a small depression after my party-throwing this past weekend. I was looking forward to the Bachelorette Party for so long, now that it’s over, I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes. My main duties as the Maid of Honor are half over. A huge part of it is throwing these two parties for the bride. Until the big Game Day, I simply help her with whatever preparations she needs help with. Then, on the wedding day itself, I sort of run the show and make sure everything behind the scenes is running smoothly so the bride and groom don’t have to worry about anything but getting their vows right.

I should start a countdown to Game Day.

On top of everything else, I have a stuffed up nose and I can’t breathe when I sleep. My stomach is in knots, and I just want to sleep, except my brain doesn’t want to shut down so I can sleep.

“The last hundred years of my life have been filled with new things.”

It doesn’t take a genius to know I’m not 100 years old, or ever over 100 years of age. But, in the years I have been blessed to walk on this earth and to have lived through the experiences I have experienced, it’s a beautiful thing. Lillian Postman, a woman checking in at 108 years old, probably knows a thing or two about life that I would love to hear.

I wonder if she was married…

With dating and life eternal with that one special someone locked in my brain at this moment while watching The Office, I am reminded how freaking cute Pam and Jim are on this show. Why can’t I have a romance story like that? Why can’t I find a Big Girl Job, meet the coworker who will become my best friend and confidante, let alone the love of my life, go through a big messy ordeal, then finally have him propose to me so we’ll live happily ever after in our suburban home with our 3 kids, our Mini Cooper, our dog, and a small screened in porch where we have brunch every Saturday and Sunday morning (where he does the cooking and I have the time off away from the kitchen.)

Seriously, how cute are they?

Why can’t I have that? Perhaps I will in my future, but since I don’t know if I will ever have that. I’ll beat myself to the ground wondering.

Do you ever wonder if you’ve met “the one” already in your lifetime?

I do. More often than I would care to admit.

I need to find myself a hobby. One that requires discipline and focus. Maybe I should take up meditating in one of the places I was introduced to this evening, and really take my study of the Jedi arts far more seriously than I have been thus far. It’s one of those things where some days it’s pretty hard-core, and others I forget to think a Jedi-ist thought.

Calm the mind, calm the soul, calm the inner being.

I’m in a funk, people. I need to find my way out of this.

Higher powers, my time is in your hands. I hope this isn’t the end of it.

What Happens at a Bachelorette Party, Stays with the Bachelorette Party

Let’s be honest here. I just rewrote this sentence twice after returning home from having a beer with coworkers. I promise it was only one, but seriously, I am beyond tired and should be going to bed instead of writing to you at this time and hour.

It was a similar feeling of having a night full of homework ahead of me.

A face like this needs its beauty sleep.

Whatever I can do to look like this when I’m middle-aged, I’m doing it. Beauty rest is key.

It could be the beer, but this TV sounds really loud to me all of a sudden. I could simply be getting old, too. Ugh, whoever thought they’d see the day where I would utter something like that. Why I even decided to put on an unwatched episode of SNL is beyond me. I’m going to spend more time looking at that damn TV than to this computer screen. I can be a real dinkus sometimes.

Stefon….you make me pee my pants with laughter every single time.

It could also be my massive love and obsession with Bill Hader. Some call him absolutely creepy. Me? I’d jump him backstage in less than five seconds if given the chance.

This past weekend has got me going all sorts of crazy. It’s got me thinking about lots of things. Dating, guys, getting out into the country more often, actually eating something that wasn’t made on a deep-fried grill,the job search, wanting to move back home to help out for an extended period of time…and more about boys.

Oh, look, there’s a winery. Don’t mind me if I do…Nothing better in the country than wine and sunshine.

What is it about the country that drives the hormones crazy? The Pure Romance party I hosted for my sister’s Bachelorette Party didn’t help matters any. The weird thing? I ended up buying more beauty products than anything else after the Pure Romance segment was concluded. It’s fantastic. Not only did I buy a heated massager, but I also purchased this stuff called Dream, which is a pillow spray in the scent of rosemary,  rosewood, and patchouli.

You’ll sleep like a baby. Guaranteed.

It smells so incredible.

If you want to imagine the smell, think of a legitimate hair salon that sorely uses Aveda products. Naturally, I adore Aveda (despite the price sometimes), and the smell just makes me feel like I am in heaven. Going to the hair salon once every three months or so just makes me lose myself from reality.

One of my Top 10 favorite smells of all time.

Everybody needs one, so don’t judge.

“When the grandmothers of today hear the word Chippendales, they don’t think of chairs.”

Oh, Jean Kerr…you are quite the dish dispenser. It’s a fact of our time era. Sex sells. Perfect example? The movie Magic Mike. Shirtless men with ripped chests and abs ripping their clothes off for money. You can’t tell me there isn’t at least one steamy love scene somewhere in that movie. Whenever somebody strips their clothes for money in a movie as a main character of the overall plot, there’s at least ONE steamy sex scene.

Do you think she’s ever had a steamy love scene in her lifetime?

Trends don’t lie.

Recently, my sister and I made a list of things we will never, ever be able to talk to each other about despite how close we are, how close we’ve been, or how close we will become in the future.

What happens behind closed doors with boys is one such topic.

Sort of my own Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy.

So imagine the look on her face (and everyone else’s faces for that matter) when the Pure Romance consultant walks into the room and tells us she’s going to open our minds to not only getting more pleasure in bed, but also with ourselves when the men in our lives “just don’t get it.”

Blair opened her mind, and look where it got her with Chuck. Pure bliss….for a time, at least.

I have never laughed as hard as I did that night by simply watching the reactions on my sister’s faces as the presentation continued. The beauty product version of everything went really well with people ooh-ing and ahh-ing when appropriate. I really wanted to get this perfume whose name I can’t recall at this exact moment, but it’s made with mostly pheromones so when it hits your skin, it mixes with the hormones in your body and it makes its scent according to the combination of pheromones and hormones inside everyone’s individual body. When initially rolled on, it does have a fruity smell about it, but after a few minutes, it starts to accumulate to your body’s specific chemistry. It’s perfectly named Basic Instinct.

It smells differently on every single person. Magical.

I considered mine to smell almost like Bath and Body Works scent “Delicious,” but I was knocked off my high horse when my sister smelled my wrist and said, “Yours smells musty.”

Musty? Are you kidding me?!

Ah well, she was the guest of honor. I really couldn’t argue with her all that much. At least, not for one night anyways

I made her wear this, and a few other things. People needed to know who she was on our night out on the town!

On top of that, we filled out a card for her so she can improve her presentations from this point out based on what we had to say about our experiences with this particular time, and there was a question of “Out of the women with you in the group this time, which of them would make a possible Pure Romance consultant?”

Everyone, minus myself, wrote down my name.

Me? A Pure Romance consultant? Apparently I’m very energetic and open about talking about embarrassing topics. So, people think I could make a living talking about sex. Hey, it’s been a small dream of mine to be a guest blogger for the Cosmopolitan. You know the ones I’m talking about…30 Days of Sex, or 365 of Dating Tips,..things like that. Everything is anonymous, and no real names are mentioned, but the real, raw, but juicy fun details we all love to read about. It’s entertaining, to say the least.

They win awards for their blog. I could be an award-winning blogger.

And sex for 30 days straight? I could handle that. It’s the guy I’d have to worry about. It takes a special guy to actually take part in the blogging experiment experience, and not just go along with it because…well, because he wants nothing but sex for 30 days.

Nothing is ever as good as it seems.

Double fudge cookie dough blizzard…tastes so good at the moment, but in the morning, you’re hating your waistline.

But my eyes are really starting to get heavy now, so I’m going to leave you with a few uplifting parting words. Remember, the week is officially half way over, so here’s a little push in continuing to make it better.

- You have the power to make positive changes.

You might not be a princess, but you have more power than you think.

- Life is a menu with unlimited choices.

What options will you choose for yourself today?

- Kick stress off your team.

Nothing beats stress quite like a foot massage.

- No one’s star shines brighter than yours.

If you need to, name your own star and follow it.

- Setbacks are only temporary.

Don’t let a little cliff stop you…even if you might fall. Tom Cruise didn’t let it stop him.

- No matter what chapter you’re on, you are a success story.

Remember, this is only a chapter. Only a chapter.

- Keep your eyes on the prize. It’s so close!

Keep reaching kid! Just keep reaching!

Who knew a body would need an entire week to recover from two days worth of wedding time party bliss?

I’ll stay in Dreamland for a little bit longer.

Seriously, I’m just beat. Yet, here I am. I’ll stick with the best excuse of all time: “I’m young and dumb and don’t know any better.”

It makes me feel better about myself every time.