I laughed so hard that snot came out my nose.

Over these 1974 Weight Watchers cards.

In other news, the party was a smashing success. Several games of beer pong were completely demolished. Apparently some people's tolerances were, too. We all found it odd that although Roommate comes from a more backwater area than I do and several of his gigantic countrified friends came (one had chops and a handlebar mustache, at 26) that it was MY friends who caused the most trouble. My ashtray was dropped and broken by one--sad, but what can you do? Another one drank himself belligerent and maudlin, caused a ruckus, and then fell asleep outside his car, on the ground, on rough gravel. A quote:

"He's passed out in a pool of his own vomit."
"Is he okay?"
"Yeah, he's fine."

Hey, we've all seen worse.

I fell asleep with all my clothes on while we still had guests in the house. I do that a lot.

Also, my proactiv came very quickly, but I didn't start using it until yesterday, my mailman has a crush on me and it's annoying, and I went to Bumbershoot and saw Aqueduct, Brazilian Girls, and Mudhoney. Aqueduct was pretty boring, Brazilian Girls and Mudhoney were AWESOME. Woo!

I made friends today!

WOO HOO!

And they're not even interns! They're not leaving! Or already gone! (And if they were, it would be very hard to befriend them anyway.)

They're real, full-time workers, and they work HERE at MY SITE, and even better they work in MY BUILDING! And they were excited about meeting me! And they're cool! WOO!

And better yet, we've decided to schedule weekly lunches. So we're all hanging out every Wednesday, at 11:30, every week. Rock on. I'm really, really hyped up--meeting new people, especially other hyper engineers who speak my language, is exciting, and we all fed off each other until we were literally shouting over each other in the cafeteria.

And for anyone local, yes, I will probably be crossing picket lines to go to work tomorrow. Things are awfully tense around here. And yes, gas is about to skyrocket and New Orleans is hell on earth. What else is there to do but shout and laugh?

And also donate to the Red Cross, of course, which I did. And then I'll donate again tomorrow when B-----'s Community Fund swings into action and starts to match our donations. There are some perks to working at a big company. And then there's the blodd drive a week from today. And y'all better know I'm donating to THAT.

An Old Post I Like

In a hurry last night between walking Titan to Proctor with mom, running over to New House to get the keys (!) and introduce Titan to Figaro, Monica's cat (!!) and running out to Federal Way by 7 pm for Tutoring (which went SMASHINGLY...)

I dropped by Stadium Thriftway. I got a huge iced mocha breve, my drink from high school, and a rosemary roll.

I'm almost over the waves of nostalgia that come with drinking iced mocha breves, although I suspect I'll never quite be over them.

But the rosemary roll...I didn't eat it until just a few minutes ago, as the Mom of the kids I tutor fed me last night, so I saved the roll for this morning.

As I heated it up in the cheap office microwave, I was overwhelmed by the smell of warm rosemary, and thought about the time in my life last year--about nine months ago--when I was working for a lawyer, and basically living the life of every pissed-off administrative assistant under the sun. Peruse the Best of Craigslist for more hysterical administrative assistant rants than you can shake a stick at. Like I said, the job wasn't great, but it was summer--I worked there from late June through late September--and it was GORGEOUS outside, sunny and perfect, and I had broken up with Chris and enjoying being single (and having boys all over the place) and enoying the location--I could walk to work through the park every day, which I did, and often stopped at Stadium Thriftway for those mochas. And jo-jos, when I was still drunk or hungover, and Naked Juices or Odwalla Juices, and what I called Credit Card Cheeses--little individually wrapped credit-card-shaped slices of Tillamook Cheese, and all kinds of other treasures, especially the dip sample bins. My journal entries are full of memes and party talk--I was making just enough money to pay bills and drink heavily, (see: jo-jos) and I wasn't working more than six hours a day.

And even though I was broke and writing columns and short stories that were going nowhere and being turned down for About.com, not to mention being stuck on a freezing-cold Alaskan cruise for a week with my extended family, I was happy. A lot happier that I had been the previous spring, when I was a sad, sad little girl, with no money and drum lessons I couldn't afford and a boyfriend who wasn't right for me and no sense of direction. But not as happy as I was just last winter when I loved my job, I had disposable income for the first time in a year, I was part of the service community in Pioneer Square, I gave in and fell in love with TheBoy, and B----- said they would hire me.

Sigh. I love the smell of warm nostalgia in the afternoon.

More Booze, Less Food

What's that I hear? What?

Is it another house party?

God Help Me.

It's a Happy Monday!

...Because I found a brand new blog that I really like. Check it out over there on the side--it's on the very TOP! She's AWESOME! And she uses the word "everyday"! (Man, I should have gotten that word--in this specific usage--copyrighted. It's blowin' up. And I was first, damnit.)

And for your convenience, as a way to sample without committing to clicking the blog link (much like I wish proactiv would do for me) there's two specifically wonderful entries below:

Experience has made me mich. (aka Why Men Should Pay For Dates.)

and

They say she's working like a man, but they don't understand.

I mean, who can NOT love a blogger who references poems or songs with every post title?

Today, I bought proactiv

Yes, I did. I just got regular shipping, although if I had known it would take 2-3 weeks, I would have gotten the faster shipping. So there will be no report for awhile.

But my skin has always been my worst enemy. And I thought I'd have to live with it like this until I just grew out of it. But it doesn't look like I'm growing out of it--and it's gotten worse since I was in high school. I've always remembered having acne--until I saw old pictures of myself the other day and realized that highschool pictures of me have much clearer skin. Humph.

We'll just see how it goes.

And now that I'm thinking about this clearly, I realize that there's an effin' proactiv booth in my local mall. I could have just bought the whole thing there without the shipping costs. I wonder if they'd give me some samples?

Happy Happy Casual Friday!

Forget all about that last unhappy post--I've been tagged! And it's Friday! And I'm going out for sushi! WOO-HOO!

Seven things I plan to do before I die:
1. Take a long backpacking trip
2. Become a published author
3. Sing in a band
4. Live in New York
5. Own a beach cabin and ski cabin
6. Learn another language
7. See Southeast Asia

Seven things I can do:
1. Write
2. Sing
3. Play instruments
4. Act
5. Drive a stick shift
6. Think Logically
7. Talk

Seven things I cannot do:
1. Drive safely or slowly
2. Be monogamous
3. Refrain from criticizing people
4. Accept authority
5. Be humble
6. Let go of obsessions
7. Do something illegal cleanly--it's madness to put this on here, but it's really something I cannot do. I thought it fit.

Seven things that attract me to the opposite sex:
1. Intellect and sense of humor. I can't separate these; they're equally important!
2. Trivia knowledge
3. Tolerance/Support of diversity
4. Rangey skateboarder build
5. Courage
6. Artistic ability
7. Athletic ability

Seven things that I say most often:
1. "Like..."
2. "I KNOW!"
3. "I do what I can."
4. "For REAL."
5. "I was under the impression that..." (Useful for tense work situations)
6. "I'm STARVING!"
7. "Hey, he's cute!"

Seven celebrity crushes:
1. Mark Wahlberg
2. Kanye West
3. Josh Homme
4. Christian Bale
5. Brad Pitt
6. Johnny Depp
7. Garret Hedlund

Seven people I want to do this:
1. T-town girl
2. leah
3. Ms. Pan
4. Shananigans
5. Beau
6. Aphra99
7. TWAM

Boy, am I an unhappy camper right now.

Yes. Unhappy. And the reasons, if I listed them, would look petty and stupid, for the main reason that they ARE petty and stupid. But knowing that doesn't make me feel any better. Yes, I have eaten--I'm eating right now. So I've done all I can, physically, to better my mood. Now I'm going to go smoke a cigarette, but I'm so full of piss and vinegar and I may just light my backyard on fire instead.

Quick Rave: Fit Day!

Oh FitDay.com, how I love you! Let me count the ways in which you are better than the Excel spreadsheets I was previously using to track both the calories I ate and the superfoods I consumed. Plus the occasional investigation online as to how many calories I burned doing my favorite activities. You let me set goals, you let me know politely but firmly when I don't achieve them, you let me track consumptionAND exercise...and you have nifty pie charts! I love you, www.fitday.com!

Also, I love T-town girl and dewey for mentioning fitday on the same day--the omen of the stereo blogging encouraged me to check it out. Bless you, ladies.

Do Y'all Ever Want to Be Anonymous?

Sometimes, I read my IIF's blogs, (my single girls, you know I'm talking to you!) and I just want to scream, "XXXXXXXXX!"

The X's are in place because what I want to say will probably insult them.

It's odd that these women and I have so much in common--bloggers, internet addicts, all about the same age, all looking for love, professional, pet owners...and yet we are so different in the way we approach our love lives. Proving, once again, that your immediate peer group--as in, the girls that you've grown up with and actually see on a regular basis, or at least enough to party with--are the biggest influence in your life, no matter how much time you spend on the internet.

Some blogging women really inspire me--Crazy Aunt Purl, for example, is my hero. Other women inspire me on a more intermittent basis, as I'm sure I do to others--we all have our moments of brilliance!

But it's my girlz who influence me the most. I party with them, I look at boys with them, it's them I call when I need advice right this minute, so it's only natural that their outlook on love is what influences me the most. And, from reading blogs, it's becoming more clear to me that we're awfully old-fashioned.

Blame our mothers--both my mother and JustMarriedFriend's mother are Southern. And old. And still with their husbands. BestFriend's mother was raised conservatively and BestFriend's father was too, so when they wanted to start sleeping together, they got married first. And they're still together. SouthernBelle is, obviously, Southern. And on top of all that, I surround myself with men 24-7--I live with one, I'm dating one, I work with all men, etc, etc. It's impossible to describe how little female interaction I get during a typical day--no roommate to come home to, only two women in my entire building that are anywhere close to my age, etc, etc. The few women I do talk to--including close friends and business friends--I have bonded with very closly, but we get about 10 minutes a week to talk.

What does all this add up to? I'm old fashioned. (Girls, you would be surprised how conservative men really are in their love lives.) I went through a 'chasing men' period right when I moved back to my hometown from college, and I hated myself every second of it. Before that, and since then, I've let men come to me, and it's worked beautifully. So what does this have to do with the title? I want to be an anonymous advice giver for my blogging girls, so that I can say what I think with no repercussions. And hope my little bit of anonymous advice will sink in. But that's a low-class, cowardly thing to do--hiding behind anonymity. I can either say what I think and be prepared to defend it, or I can keep my mouth shut. And right now I'm opting for shut. I love you all.

There's a BOY in my house!

This is the weekend that Roommate moved in.

This is the weekend that I went to a wedding and Roommate moved in.

This is the weekend that I got in a fight with TheBoy and I went to a wedding and Roommate moved in.

There's boy stuff on my sink—like Hugo Boss cologne on the counter, and an electric shaver, and Nivea for men facial wash and other special just-for-men stuff. There's boy stuff in my shower—he brought his own shower caddy, and there's Old Spice High Endurance body wash in my shower. And a pouf. (I don't even use a pouf.)

There's a gigantic TV in my living room—like, it blocks out the sun—and two huge bookshelves of books and movies. There's a big white leather sofa. That reclines. There's a portable bar in my kitchen. This boy has way nicer stuff than I do. That's fine, now I can just use his. :)

Last night was the first night he spent in the house and I couldn't sleep—way too keyed up. There's a boy in my house, there's a BOY in my HOUSE, THERE'S A BOY IN MY HOUSE! This morning I was up at the crack of dawn and had 55 minutes to get ready instead of the normal 30. I brewed my own coffee before I left and everything. And I haven't wanted to sleep once. If I'll remain this keyed up for awhile because of the new energy in my space, I should be paying HIM for living here. (Shhhhh. Don’t tell him, okay?) UPDATE: The minute I typed that, I of course began falling asleep in my chair. Hmmm.

And in my many musings today, I've come up with this: do we naturally bond platonically with members of the opposite sex who remind us of our significant others? For example it's a well known fact around the office that I remind Mentor of Mrs. Mentor—I've never met her, but apparently we're sisters lost at birth, according to Mentor. It's not surprising, of course; Mentor and I bonded in my first day here, and he loves his wife, so it's not surprising that two women he likes resemble each other in personality. And Roommate reminds me very strongly of TheBoy—they don't look at all alike, but they relate to me in similar ways. Roommate is much more mouthy and a smartass. TheBoy is more of a quiet source of humor, suddenly breaking out with hysterically goofy shit. But I went grocery shopping with TheBoy (he just called me out of the blue and offered a ride, since he was going shopping and he knew I didn't have a car, so did I want to come with him? DID I?) and he bought all kinds of meat, a two-gallon jug of very cheap milk, frozen breakfast sandwiches, and a 12-pack of PBR.

I bought: three organic oranges, two organic kiwis, two kinds of baked organic tofu, organic celery hearts, 100% cranberry juice, organic baby carrots, a Naked Juice (Green Machine), two bags of soy-rice crisps, one bag of corn-vegetable flour pasta, a 24 pack of string cheese, a very small block of extra-sharp cheddar cheese, ground corn flour for polenta, and a few other things I can’t quite recall. The boy had one more bag than I did PLUS a two gallon of milk PLUS a 12 pack of PBR, and he pointed out that his bill was still 4 dollars less than mine. He likes to point out that I’m a health nut.

Funny how this didn't stop him from compulsively eating most of a bag of my soy-rice crisps, though.

I told this story to Roommate, who laughed, and then came and looked in the fridge. He closes the fridge. He opens the fridge again. He closes the fridge. He looks at me. Silently, he picks up the receipt from the grocery store.

"I really thought you were exaggerating when you said you were a health nut. Apparently not. I don’t even know what half of this shit is."

He reminds of me of TheBoy the first time I bought kefir in his presence. At least we won't have any trouble separating our food.

Sex In This City

You know over there, to your right, on my profile?

How I talk about ups and downs in this life I call mine?

It's definitely been one of those weeks months.

(For example, I am posting at 9:00 on a Friday night.)

My girlfriends and I are having one of those Sex in the City nights. Not the kind of nights made famous on the HBO show, but a real sex in the city night. Where everyone is single, no one is having actual sex, and everyone is on the phone. Separately. In their own houses.

It starts with LongtimeFriend.

LF: So, what are you doing?

Me: Oh, I'm sitting on the floor in an empty room, reading blogs, on a very small laptop. (I'm not joking, y'all. Said room is my roommate's old room, and it has one of the two activated cable modem outlets, and y'all know I can't live without my internet. So I'm in Old Roommate's old room, stripped bare of stuff, sitting on the floor.)

LF: Hmmm, that sounds exciting.

Me: Yeah. (phone beeps) Oh, that's SouthernBelle, I need to talk to her, I'll call you back.

Note to my readers: SouthernBelle is a woman who is ten years my senior and can party me into the ground and drink me under the table. She is incredible and wild and wonderful. When we go out, we do extremely illegal things and cause EXTREME amounts of trouble. It's unbelieveable that I am not in jail.

SouthernBelle: Hey, whatcha doin'?

Me: Contemplating some week-old pasta. You?

SB: I'm answering some work emails and sending out my resume. (Notice that she is both working for her current job and looking for another one at the same time. Reminds you of the early 90's, doesn't it?)

Me: Oh yeah? What's wrong with the old job?

SB: Bastards shorted me three grand on my last paycheck.

Me: Shit.

SB: Yeah. It's time to move. How's things with you?

Me: Oh, it's going to take the repair shop a month to fix my Jeep, I have no idea how I'm going to live without a car, MaleRoommate got his key today, and that's weird, TheBoy is leaving for Ghana in a month and I have no idea how I feel about that, and my work project drags on and on and it's way behind schedule and I'll probably be Reprimanded for it.

SB: Yeah? What's the damage going to be on your Jeep?

Me: $8800. Which the insurance will cover, so it's just the deductible for me--about $500 or so, plus the ticket, plus possibly renting a loaner from the repair shop.

SB: Damn.

Me: Yeah, I have the money, or almost, it's just that I was saving it for fun things. Like, mods to the Jeep. Not repairs.

SB: Yeah, I've noticed that the more money you make, the more expensive life's surprises are. It's like, in college, when you have a dropped-class fee and it's $50 you think, Damn, how am I going to get that much money? Now that you have big fancy job, wrecked car fees are more like $1000, and you think, Damn, how am I going to get that much money?

Me: Yeah. It's like, the more expensive the shit you own is, the more expensive it is to repair.

SB: Yeah. Now, if the apartment building burned, I'd be real upset--Motherfucker! I bought that shit!

Me: Yeah. Listen, I gotta call Longtime Friend back. Good talking to you.

SB: You too, have a good night.

Me: Hi, LF.

LF: Hey. So, whatcha doing now?

Me: Choking down some cold week-old pasta. I just tossed half of it out, it's disgusting. You?

LF: Yeah, I'm contemplating making food. I know I should eat, but I can't bring myself to waste the energy.

Me: That's what I ate the pasta even though it was gross.

LF: Yeah, I have a ton of food ingredients at home, but I might just go to Fancy Grocery Store and buy something.

Me: Yeah. Now I'm contemplating opening a bottle of wine.

LF: Oh yeah? Something good?

Me: No, it's a $4 bottle of Zin.

LF: Yeah. I should go and finish up some schoolwork.

Me: Yeah. Talk to you later.

LF: See ya.

Notice, in all this conversation, no one once tried to make plans to get together. We're all standing in our kitchens, on the phone with each other, doing jack shit. I thought about trying to make plans, and then I thought, do I really want to? And the answer is no.

See how exciting?

Google is letting me down

My gmail is really screwy. And everyone should try http://www.google.com and see what you get. I was surprised. I thought it was the drugs, but really it's just Google. When Google and Starbucks take over the earth, I just hope they'll remember me as a loyal worshipper and allow me a small farm.

Good Things DO Happen

Nice things about today, and this weekend:

Lovely weather today.

I'm dressed well. AND wearing eye makeup! Tomorrow's goal: tinted moisturizer.

Indulged myself with food--hot cup of coffee and oatmeal for breakfast, a big ol' sandwich for lunch.

Partying with my engineers on Friday was even more a complete spectacle of debauchery than I could have guessed. It had been quite awhile since any of us got out--and we made up for it. :) Very dirty deeds were performed.

The doggies got along great on Thursday. And Roommate complimented me on how well I was holding together after The Accident. He expressed enthusiasm about moving in and, in general, made me feel like a trooper and a survivor. All good things.

Saturday, MidwestEngineer called to ask if I was okay--he said I had seemed a little quiet at the Howl and wanted to make sure everything was all right. (Cue: AWWWWWWWWW!)

Today, as I was chatting to JadedEngineer, I mentioned my accident, and he reiterated Roommate's opinion--"Wow, you didn't say a word at the Howl. You seem to be handling it well." I thanked him, and joking attributed my inner strength to the power of my new jeans. His response: "Um, yeah, speaking of jeans, you looked great on Friday. Have you lost weight?"

HELL YEAH I HAVE!

And finally, this exchange between a colleague of mine and I about a frustrating meeting this morning:

Me: "Thank you for being an excellent meeting moderator. As authoritative as I try to be, I feel awfully helpless, sometimes; it's hard to get people (and by "people", I mean "TechGuy") twice my age to take me seriously. You really made the meeting work today--thank you so much."

Her: "You're welcome and do an excellent job, I just had to get going today!
The older guys sometimes don't take us so seriously, but eventually they will learn ;)"

Me: "You give me hope. :)"

Her: "Just hang in there...you'll probably end up getting promoted right past him! (It's always fun to wave on the way by....)"

Encouraging words for all of us!

My car is still impounded, and I am sick

And I have leftover osso buco on my stove. I should probably freeze it--and would, but is it still good? How do I know? It's less than 24 hours old...but it's been sitting out in warmish weather all that time.

I have to get my car out of impound 120 hours from the time of the accident--roughly five days and five hours. It was put into impound on Thursday at 7--so I can retrieve it by Tuesday at midnight. I think this is the insurance claims adjuster's job, but I'm not really sure. He's supposed to call me today by 1:00 pm at the latest. The point is, if it's not taken from impound, it'll go up for auction. And that would suck. (Actually, that's an understatement--this is the thing that CANNOT HAPPEN.)

Still sick over here. Lost my voice two nights in a row. But I did prove to TheBoy I could cook, which is important--I had never cooked for him before. It's funny that all his friends were excited that I could cook, like, "HEY! She can COOK!" I mean, did they think I ate out three meals a day before this? Living by oneself implies a certain level of cooking achievement, in my mind. It's true that I'm famous for being a health nut, and enjoying things that no sane human would--i.e., spinach straight from a bag, like a rabbit; nutritional yeast, juice with absolutely NO added sugar, wheat germ, kefir, really thick green juice with occasional lumps, apple cider vinegar tonics, organic everything, whole-wheat bread, tofu, baked tofu, plain organic active-culture yogurt, etc, etc...so I think TheBoy was a little scared I'd cook some combination of yeast and green juice.

Like I don't know the difference between personal food and company food!

Still sick. I love you, green tea. Also, this house is out of paper towels and toilet paper, and the trash needs to be taken out.

I am the biggest failure ever

It's true. I am.

1) Yesterday, I took a sick day from work. Because I WAS sick. And yet I ALSO needed new jeans. Because the ones I had been wearing had gigantic crotch holes. So I went to the Tacoma Farmer's Market, for breakfast, which was awesome, and then I came home, put my flowers in water, took Dayquil, and took off to the Supermall. I bought tons of jeans, made a date to see BestFriend and try on all the jeans for her enjoyment, and drove back home. On the way back home, I took a left, apparently failed to see a motorcycle, and he crashed directly into me on the driver's side door.

I got out of the car. I thought he was dead. I didn't know WHAT to do. Millions of people stopped--it was rush hour, after all--and I called 911 and the police showed up and we had all kinds of excitement. I was in total shock. The motorcyclist turned out to be fine--he had a broken shoulder--and they towed my car off to the impound and from now on it's just a money issue, but for awhile they were holding the scene in case it became a crime scene, because if the motorcyclist died...well, I didn't want to think about it. But then it WOULD be a crime scene and they'd have to re-investigate the whole thing. So that didn't happen, which is good.

Other good things: I had just reinstated my insurance (a week ago), so I'm insured. My premiums will go up, but hey--this is why I HAVE insurance, right? It's unlikely that the car will be totalled--it's just a motorcycle, so the impact wasn't anything like a car would have been. From now on it's just a money issue and I can't do anything about it. Except ride around with my mother.

2) B----- has this time system, right? You have to enter your time in, and every Thursday, when the pay period ends, you have to sign your weekly time. It seems like a small thing, but it's not--my manager gets his hand slapped every time I forget, and he starts to get mad. After all the mess yesterday, I forgot to input my time, and he just sent me an email: "Next time you forget, disciplinary action will be taken." Just what I need--to be fired.

3) Also yesterday, during my day of hooky, TheBoy was also home and doing nothing. I could have called him, but didn't think about it. I assumed he'd be working, and besides, I had called him the night before and he hadn't called back yet. And then when I crashed, I called both LongtimeFriend and BestFriend before I called him. By the time I called him, he was on the phone with another important call, and he couldn't answer--and then he had to be at work. By the time he had time to come over and comfort me, New Roommate was already there, making sure the doggies got along--they do! They play really well together!--so he was doubly frustrated from sweeping me off my feet.

Apparently now he's mad that I didn't call him first, before anyone else---"This is what I'm here for, babe," he said--and mad that I didn't call him yesterday when I was around town doing nothing. Of course, if I had called him, I probably wouldn't be in this predicament, but what are you gonna do. Everything turned out okay--he cuddled me for a long time until I fell asleep. But he's right--I purposely didn't call him first because I was worried he was going to be judgemental and worried he would be mad at me for being stupid and, and, and.

Apparently this week I just can't win.

Exciting Things I Did Today

Warning: This post is rather bland. Feel free to skip.

1) Talked to a CEO of a company that makes a really great software tool--and may give him the hook-up to my alma mater to create a relationship there. Which would make me feel like the Omnipotent Business Woman that I one day hope to be.

2) Met a really excellent woman who works for Large Defense Aerospace Company, who has become a role model. She is 45, looks 35, and HOLDS HER OWN in a roomful of men--she happily uses both her power bootay (which she dresses in form fitting, but never too-tight suit skirts) and her power intellect; she is incredible. When she speaks, everyone listens.

3) Ran into Cute Tacoma Engineer and had a nice long walk/talk. He was wandering, I was going somewhere, so he just walked me to where I was going. We joked around and enjoyed each other. A bright spot in a long day.

4) In my continuing tour of B----- women's bathrooms, I found a gigantic one, as big as the men's rooms, and it CONTAINS A COUCH! I can take a NAP! Even when I don't drive!

5) Ate really well--covered nine superfoods and got lots of water. This was partly due to me feeling awful and trying to ward off the incoming sickness until Friday--if I can. I may not even have time to get sick then. Bleah.

But still: happy day!

Oh My Gosh!

I haven't posted in five days! What have I been thinking of?

Well, I've been exhausted, and now I think I'm coming down with something--but I'm trying to hang on until Friday so I can work from home that day. There's no fun in not having to come into work on Thursday--Friday is the day to stay home! If, of course, I can make it until then.

Nice things have happened to me--I've been granted "regular" status at my favorite kickboxing class (you know what I'm saying--it's not like they give out prizes, but I can feel the attitude difference) so I'm beginning to bond with the instructor and the other regulars, I've lost three more pounds according to this morning, and last night TheBoy cooked a fantastic dinner for his mother and invited me! And I love his mom, so I'm always happy to see her, and even better, she was feeling me out on the possibility of scheduling a trip, WITH HER, to go see TheBoy in Ghana! If that's not flattering, I don't know what is.

AND after a long hard couple of weeks--almost a month of long hard weeks, actually--it's PARTY TIME! A bunch of young engineers and I are on our way to cause large amounts of trouble at Howl At The Moon on Friday. There's all kinds of drama going on, and I'm at some of the center of it. It's going to be AWESOME!

Due to Popular Demand

I was going to talk about all this in the comments section of the previous post, but who really checks the comments daily anyway?

So! Roommate FAQ gets a whole post to itself! (Himself?) Anyway, he should feel pretty damn special, because I never did this for Monica. :)

Name: Roommate
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Status: Single
Orientation: Straight
Hot or Not Scale Rating: 5. (Hey, the truth hurts, but honesty to IIFs is the best policy!)

Does he have a nice car? You bet--bright red Ford F150, with a very nice lockable stainless steel tool box in the back.

Yeah, but does he have pets? Damn skippy! He has a two-year-old German Shepherd Mix! Her name is Sascha and she's only 45 pounds to Titan's 70. They *shouldn't* have dominance issues.

*Shouldn't*? Haven't they met yet? No. Of course, Roommate staying as my roommate will be dependent on this unknown.

Has he just moved out of his parents house? No. (Whew.)
Has he ever lived with strangers before? No. (Dangerous.)
Has he ever lived with a non-related girl before? No. (Danger, Will Robinson!

Oh my god! What the house? What about the kitchen? What about THE BATHROOM? Will he object to tampons and other Things That Must Not Be Named? Are you resigned to living in squalor? Hey, if you read my Craigslist ad, you know I'm not Mr. Clean myself, and he said something that sold me: when I was showing him the bathroom, I said, "Sorry about the clutter, I'm a product whore." He looks at me and says, "I was raised by my mom and three older sisters. You've got nothing on them. I can take whatever feminine stuff you can throw at me."

Now he sounds perfect. Aren't you single now? Quick answer: No.

Yeah, right. Hey, if anyone tells TheBoy that I've been going around saying I'm single, fur will fly.

Okay, but assuming I will never meet TheBoy? Well, the official, totally non-official and down-low stance is that I'm not closing myself off to any possibilities.

And I revealed my profile on match.com and am emailing three guys right now AND my stylist just called and set me up.

Ummm...we're going to get those stories soon, right? Maybe. I'm trying to wait until I really AM single.

Forget all of this factual smokescreen. Is this a recipe for disaster or what? Well, because it's me, we have to assume that, yes, it's clearly a recipe for disaster. HOWEVER. Because of circumstances beyond my control--the Hot or Not rating, and the general way in which Roommate and I click, and believe me, I was on the lookout--it has the highest probability of not being a disaster that I can personally assure.

Did I get everyone?

And, TWAM, I saw that Criagslist post too, and I thought of it constantly as I was interviewing the poor guy. :)

New Profile!

Just thought I'd point it out. I do have a new roommate, and he seems pretty damn cool.

Yes, of COURSE I'll update you when it all goes to hell in two months. :)