Tag: crazy single girl life

CSGL – Random

Yeah, so remember what I was saying about leaving that door open.   About how you leave yourself open to the experiences of life, sometimes you get the good.   Sometimes you get the not so good.   And sometimes you get the just plain strange.

My weekend started out pretty good and normal.  Kayphore and I went out to see some bands and karaoke.   By the way, best karaoke performances of my life, and you missed them.   Anyway, it was all good.   And then . . .

Kayphore and I were kidnapped and held hostage by a Rockstar.   On accident.

At least, I hope it was an accident.  He’s a nice enough guy, and I don’t know that he would be trying to make me panic with a desire to fling myself down on the floor, kicking and flailing my arms while sobbing.  “I . . . want . . . to . . . go . . . home!”

It was certainly the most interestingly random thing that’s happened to me in a long time.   And I can’t say that it was awful, but it was definitely not how I planned to spend that evening.   Any evening, really.

We finally made it out of there Saturday morning.

And that was just the start of my weekend.

Wowzer!

CSGL – Quitting

It’s part of the process, really.    I opened myself to a lot of new experiences in the last year, and I call it my Crazy Single Girl Life.    It’s what you have to do, right?   You have to invite the good in.    Unfortunately, with the good, sometimes a bit of unpleasant dust blows in with it.

Part of the growing I need to do is to learn to better trust my instincts.    For the last few months, my gut has been telling me that something was wrong.      I tried to change some of my behavior, and distance myself in certain situations, to shield myself from some behavior that was making me uncomfortable.  I tried to remain optimistic, and tell myself that these were things that would just blow over with patience.   However, there comes a point where you realize that the best answer is just to stop and say, “NO.  No more.   I’m done.”

I have quit the band and the soccer team.

It wasn’t all bad, and I have made some wonderful friends.   I know that we will see each other, and continue to be a part of each others lives.

But not everyone I meet is deserving of my friendship or my respect.

And at the same time, just because you shouldn’t be friends with someone, that doesn’t mean that you have to be enemies.   It just means that you move on.

Just sayin’.

CSGL – Enough with the Allusions

OK, I know I’ve mentioned in at least two blog posts that there were changes a comin’ to my life.   Well, here’s the big reveal – I moved . . . . again.

Yes, that would make the fifth move in four years.

Yes, I am crazy.

So, I am once again living with roommates.   No more pantsless-ness . . . well, unless I’m in my own room.

There are several reasons why this is way better –

  1. No more sleeping with a baseball bat to fend off things that go bump in the night.
  2. No more sleeping mere feet from drug dealers and prostitutes who are only separated from me by a thin piece of glass.
  3. No more sinking suspicions that my room is going to become an inescapable vortex which I will never be able to free myself from the very next time I close myself in it.  (Yes, that is a real fear that came over me while I was sitting home alone one night.)
  4. No more leaving the TV on 20 hours/day just to keep me company.
  5. I live in a house now.  A whole house.  Multiple rooms.  Living room, kitchen, bedroom, etc.  All separated by walls.   It’s astonishing.
  6. I have an instant social life.  (Just add beer.)
  7. I live with a cat now.
  8. I am living with some of the coolest folks, friends I’ve known for years, who I really truly love and respect.

So, there you have it.  Now you know why I have been taking my damn time posting up pictures from my holiday.  I couldn’t find my laptop in the boxes.  I’m slowly digging out from the pile, though.   Hopefully I’ll develop a routine for this new life.   (For example, I went to the gym this morning before work.   Damn that’s weird.)

I think it just was about time to shake it all up all over again.   So I did.

Just sayin’.

CSGL – Blowing This Taco Stand

So, I’m going on a little vacation to Northern England. I’m leaving this weekend. It’s sort of a solo trip, except I’ll be staying with and kicking it around with my aunt who lives there.

I’m going to be flying into Manchester, and spending some time there on my own, and then spending time around Yorkshire. I’m going to go to many pubs, many curry houses, and walk through many gardens.

There will be photos. All the photos.

And when I come back . . . . big changes.

I’m very excited for the next month or so. More to come.

CSGL – The Movie

You know how there’s that party game, where you have to try to try to figure out who should play you in a movie?

Well, apparently they already made the story of my life into a movie, and I’m played by Dane Cook.  (You’re probably a little confused, but don’t worry, it’ll make sense in a minute.)

The other morning, I was on Instant Messager with Kayphore, as usual.   Blah, blah, blah, I didn’t sleep again, blah, blah, still sick, blah.  Same shit, different day, you know.   And then I told her about a certain realization that I have come to lately.   I am the perfect setup girl.  She didn’t quite understand what I meant at first, so I explained.

You see, if you date me or even if you just sleep with me, within a year you will be madly in love . . . just, you know, not with me.   At least the last three dudes I tangoed with are all, according to them, happy as freaking clams with some broad that they hooked up with within a year of dumping me.    One of them even had a baby with his new lady.  And there’s a chance that some guy that I only ever got to look at may be currently heading in the same direction, but it’s a little too early to tell in his case.  So, dating me sets you up to fall in love with someone else.  How convenient!

Anywho, I was relaying all of this to Kayphore, and she says that it sounds like a crappy movie that she didn’t see.   I responded that it did sound like the kind of thing that could be turned into some kind of banal romantic comedy, and she replied that it was really already an actual movie.   A couple of minutes later, after what I assume was some sort of scouring of the inernet, she came up with it.

Good Luck Chuck starring Dane Cook!

From Netflix:

Every time unlucky-in-love Chuck (Dane Cook) breaks up with a girlfriend, that girl ends up engaged to her next boyfriend. Women are soon knocking on Chuck’s door, hoping that after enduring a few dates with him, they’ll meet Mr. Right, a gamble that works out better for the ladies than it does for Chuck. But when he meets klutzy penguin trainer Cam (Jessica Alba), Chuck realizes that he has to stop being a way station on the path to love.

So, of course it’s in my queue now.   And it’s probably going to be horribly bad.  But it’s like an opportunity to watch yourself in a train wreck.

I guess the question is, who’s better looking . . . Dane Cook or Moi?

cookdane

– Or –

idance

And if you want to be madly in love sometime in the next year, you know, call me . . .

Just sayin’

CSGL – Valentine’s Day

So, Clam summed it up in his text message this afternoon – “btw, FUCK VALENTINE’S DAY”.

So I’m avoiding it.   Big time.

Actually, I’m sitting on the couch, nursing a hangover, and overdosing on Lifetime Television for Women.   The only people I’ve talked to all day were bandmates.   I went and had a recording session with Ruckus, and Pedro called.   Other than that, I said please and thank you to the folks at the hardware store and Whole Paycheck when I went in to grab a few things.  

But my one favorite thing about Valentine’s this year, were these flowers that were delivered to my office yesterday with a naughty little note.

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Tulips are my favorite flowers, and I love all the colors in this bouquet.    That’s why I sent them to myself.

Yeah, you just read that right.  I sent myself flowers.   Why?   Why the fuck not?    You know, it’s fun to keep people guessing, too.  Because I only told half my co-workers that they were from me.    To the rest, I just smiled and blushed. 

And the naughty note?  Well, I figure if you’re going to send yourself flowers, there ought to be a little dirty note to go with.

They’re probably the best flowers I’ll ever get.

Just sayin’.

CSGL – Return of the Pile of Pants

Remember a few years back, when I wrote about the pile of mostly clean, partially dirty, stretched out just right pants that lived next to my bed?   

Well, it’s back, and it’s better than ever!

I woke up to my iPod this morning, something by Depeche Mode, and laid there hovering between sleep and wakefulness.  When I knew I couldn’t put it off a moment longer, I leaned over, grabbed hold of the first pair I could get my hand on, leaned back, pulled them up and on, and got out of bed.  

Of course, unlike the “good old days” I now have short hair, so I can’t just throw it in a ponytail and go anymore. 

Also, I now always make sure to eat breakfast.   Usually this is done leaning over the counter.   The time it would take to sit would cut into that fifteen minutes of  groggy that I enjoyed.

So, it takes about twice as long for me to get out the door.

But I’m getting back into my own old habits, instead of living the way someone else expected me to.   It’s not the same exact pattern, but it’s still mine.   

I’m going to be the biggest slob I want to be, because at the end of the day, I’m the one who lives this life in this and lives in this mess. 

And there’s no way in hell I’m going to let go of this again so easily.

Crazy Single Girl Life – Un-Flirting

For those of you following my goings on (Hi Mom!), you may have read some comments on my previous post, and been curious.

Yes, there was an . . . . Incident.    

There’s this guy my friends and I all know, and he is cute, and he is off the market.   He’s also a flirt.   And in this tongue in cheek, campy performance, he was fake canoodling with two of my friends and myself at a bar the other night.   He was literally standing in the middle of us, and giving us each bedroom eyes in turn.  Only they weren’t bedroom eyes; they were “Bedroom Eyes” wherein those quotes represent air quotes, so, you know, he was REALLY serious.    SYKE!

And in the spirit of the over the topness, I did graze his crotch with my elbow.   Or, as they say, his penis with my weenis.  

So, yeah, I guess one could say that I was effectively flirting with him . . . but in the way that I usually reserve for flirting with gay guys, to be honest.

 I still maintain that I suck at flirting.

Crazy Single Girl Life – Flirting

So, I’ve been a single girl living this Crazy Single Girl Life for almost a year now.  That’s a year of going where I want to go, doing what I want to do, out all night, caffeinating all day, seat of my pants, why the hell did I do that, because I could that’s why existence.   I have to say, there’s been a bump or two along the way.   However, it has been an adventure and definitely the ride of a lifetime.  I can’t really complain. 

Except one thing.   There’s this skill that hasn’t really come back to me yet, after the two and a half years of Serious Relationship Existence, I somehow forgot how to flirt.   

OK, so I’m not completely incapable or anything.  It’s just that I’m so well out of practice that I’m just not very good at it.  It’s like I’m in Junior High again.   

Half the time, no one knows I’m flirting.  My best friends see me interacting with attractive men, and afterward, I’ll ask, “was I being totally obnoxious and obvious.”  They then ask me what I’m talking about, tell me that the thought that I was flirting didn’t even occur to them, and that they’re sure the guy didn’t get it.   And I think they’re probably right.    

The other half the time, it’s awkwardness to the nth degree.   I kiss a guy on his cheek and Run.  (Oh Yeah.  I did that.  Recently.)  Or I’m just incapable of completing a sentence while turning Bright Crimson and swallowing half of my words.   

And the thing is, I used to be pretty damn good at this.  I’m not kidding.   And I was so good, and so natural, that I didn’t even know I was doing it.    I remember there was one time I was with Mama Bear and we were at a restaurant.   A very nice looking server was waiting on us.  As soon as he took our order and walked away, she turned to me and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen someone bat their eyelashes before!”   I didn’t even know I was doing it.  

Today, I’d have to put serious effort into that, and I’d probably be such a spazz about it, that someone would ask me if I had something stuck in my eye or if I was having a stroke!

I had no idea that this was a skill that could be lost, that this muscle would atrophy.   

So, of course I’m not going to be unsingle any time soon, because people either don’t realize that I’m hitting on them or I’m scaring the crap out of them by acting weird.  However, when and if the day ever comes when I find myself in a LTR (Long Term Relationship) again, I refuse to cease flirting.  I will not let myself go again.  Oh no.  I will be a lean, mean, flirting machine.   And, in other words, the worst GF ever.  

In the meantime, all the practice is fun, if not amusing in a sad and pathetic sort of way.