A Not-So-Encouraging Forewarning

(Originally written on July 16, 2009)

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B&B didn’t even pick up my hotel room…yet it’s odd that they paid for my car service and flights…  I have never heard of a company flying in a potential hire and not picking up the hotel room.  Beast, Martyr, and Scarlet were all just as shocked.  When I spoke with Scarlet about it last night before going to bed, he suggested that if I get the job, to just cut my losses and swallow the cost, but that if I don’t get the job, to then contact B&B and ask for reimbursement.  So that’s the plan.

God, I woke up so early this morning.

I have definitely gained a substantial amount of weight.  My suit skirt is quite tight/snug around my ass and my top vest button is barely holding on…

The woman who would be my boss at B&B if I get the job told me that there were a lot of young people here – a lot of new MBA grads – and that they all live in the city (the B&B office is in a town about 15 minutes outside of the city).  That’s exciting, at least; it gives me hope that I could actually meet someone here.  However, she also recommended to me during my interview that I don’t immediately get the new car Beast promised me for graduation…because it’s Philly…  She told me that one girl parked in the wrong spot and her car got keyed and that another guy’s car got hit when he parked in the wrong spot.  Then, she told me that peoples’ cars get broken into all of the time.  I get that she was probably just trying to look out for me in the long run (and hopefully sure that I am the right candidate to hire), but it didn’t exactly encourage me in knowing that Philly is where I want to live.

Here We Go Again

(Originally written on July 15, 2009)

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I am currently sitting at a bar in the airport right now, having a beer while I await my flight to Philadelphia for yet another series of job interviews.  This time, we’ll call the company B&B.  B&B is a consumer packaged goods company that makes everything ranging from beauty products to over-the-counter drugs. Oddly enough, I didn’t even apply for the position that I’m interviewing for with them…or any position with them, for that matter.  They actually recruited me from the MMR resume book.  That kinda made me feel a little bit better about myself:  out of the 27 graduates in my class, they chose me.  I haven’t really taken their interest all that seriously (until now, obviously) because the first time they called me was back in May.  Then, it was early-to-mid-June before they called me for a phone interview and told me that they wanted whomever they hire to start working by mid-July…which is today.  And that obviously didn’t happen.  Anyways, I eventually had another phone interview about a week-and-a-half ago, at the end of which they told me that they wanted to fly me to Philly for what would have been last week for in-person interviews.  Well, after two-and-a-half slow months, I’m finally making my trip up there.

•     •     •     •     •

I didn’t sleep well at all last night, even though I took my sleeping meds.  Thus, I got up this morning feeling funky/sick…great for packing and traveling.

•     •     •     •     •

I have decided that Friday (once I’m back home) I’m going to stop drinking and start working on getting into shape and being happy again.

•     •     •     •     •

This past weekend was my family reunion with Beast’s side of the family.  Every year we visit a different location and this year it was Asheville, North Carolina.  The previous reunions that stick out most in my mind include:  Nashville, Tennessee; Lexington, Kentucky; Washington, D.C.; Cedar Point, Ohio (the last reunion Beast’s dad, my grampa, was alive for); and Niagara Falls, Canada.  I always enjoy these family reunions because all of my cousins are really close in age to Chip, Dale, Ursula and me.

Bear with me here, I’ve got quite a few introductions to get through in order to make the storytelling easier:

We’ll start with Beast’s oldest brother, Aston (for Aston Martin; he collects cars, most of which he actually purchases on eBay).  And Aston’s wife is Dippy; she’s the crazy aunt that always makes inappropriate comments and jokes.  When we were younger, we all thought she was weird and were creeped out by her, but now that we’re older, we are equipped with the worldly knowledge required to understand her wonderfully lewd and sarcastic sense of humor.  She’s awesome.  Their son is my cousin Fire – and yes, he’s a ginger.  The name “Fire” for him, though, actually works on several different levels:

1. His gingerness, of course.
2. He was a firefighter for a year or two.
3. He has always been one who goes through phases where he is exceedingly fanatical about whatever it is that’s his flavor of the week, including girls.  One year he was all about the Army and ROTC; the next year was drinking (underage); the next was being redneck; the next was firefighting…and you get the picture. And, I mean, he goes all out.  For example, he got the firefighter emblem tattooed – quite large, I must say – on his upper arm…and, well, Fire isn’t a firefighter anymore.

There’s actually quite a sad story attached to Fire – and keep in mind that he’s my age (only 23).  Beast comes from a family that was raised devoutly Catholic (hence the four kids), so we definitely behave more conservatively around Gramma and company.  Anyways, the summer when we were 19, the family reunion was held at Niagara Falls (the reunions always take place in July, by the way).  Fire had drunkenly proposed to Emma in June, his girlfriend of two months at that time, and insisted that she come to the reunion with him or else he wouldn’t come.  So she came to the reunion and she stayed in a room with Dippy while Fire stayed in a separate room with Aston.  They got married that August and bought a house together.  Money was pretty scarce for them with Fire installing home theater and stereo systems and Emma working as a cashier at a fast-food restaurant.  In order to make ends meet, Fire joined the Air Force in March with the intention of becoming an Air Force firefighter and left for two months of boot camp.  While he was away, Emma had a friend move into the house with her to keep her company.  Emma’s 21^st birthday (she was a year older than Fire) was on the same day as Aston’s and Dippy’s wedding anniversary, about one month after Fire had left for boot camp, so the three of them went to dinner together.  Emma didn’t even have anything to drink because she said she was feeling funny.  The following morning, Emma’s friend walked by her room and found her in a blue state.  Fire and Emma were only married for nine months.  Fire immediately came home from boot camp and was given a year to come back and resume.  However, Fire later declined and was honorably discharged.  To this day, we still don’t know how Emma died.

What made Fire’s circumstances a little more strange was how he acted when he returned to the next reunion.  For one thing, he was already back onto the dating scene a mere three months after Emma’s death…and the girl he was dating was also named Emma…  Secondly, when asked about how he was holding up, Fire said that, hindsight 20/20, he thought they would have probably ended up getting divorced anyway…  I guess that’s just how he was coping and getting himself through it all.

Well, a little over two years ago, Fire became an EMT (and he still is).  Then, in late December 2007, we received the news that Fire was going to be a father.  He met his baby-mama through work, she’s an ER nurse, and the baby was born last July (Fire didn’t make it to the last reunion because he was expecting).  Now, what makes that sad and odd is that Fire continues to propose to his baby-mama (who already had another illegitimate child with a different guy, by the way) multiple times and she still, to this day, says no.  He really does just want to do the right thing.

Then there’s my aunt Egoista and her husband Uncle Bob.  She is definitely the black sheep of the siblings.  She constantly tries to be the center of attention (and she’s 60 years old!) and she’s full of herself, gets pissy if she doesn’t get her way, has the worst sense of humor, and her obnoxious cackle of a laugh makes your ears bleed.  Also, both when Grampa died and when we moved Gramma into an assisted living home, Egoista picked brutal, petty fights with her brothers and cut off communication with the rest of the family for a while – which I know Beast and Aston didn’t mind, they joked about it at the time.  There’s really nothing special about Uncle Bob (hence the plain name); he pretty much keeps to himself and you can tell that he unquestioningly lets Egoista run the show.  Their daughter is Bookworm.  She was born three months premature with cerebral palsy and is confined to a wheelchair.  She’s currently working on her Master degree to become a librarian.  It’s kinda sad that none of us really know Bookworm that well; it’s hard because she can’t participate in everything that we do and Egoista keeps her on a short leash too.  Bookworm and I do share our passion for beer, though!

And finally, there’s Scholar and his wife Cowpoke.  As kids, Scholar was really malicious toward Beast: one time Scholar pushed Beast’s stroller (with Beast in it) down a hill for no reason and when Beast was four, Scholar convinced him to guzzle gasoline, telling him that it was just “sour water”.  And that’s only two of the many examples, but I think they’ve gotten past it.  I’ve dubbed him “Scholar” because he was a career student for quite some time: he’s got two Doctoral degrees, one in optometry and one in psychiatry (which he currently practices), in addition to a Master degree or two.  He actually met Cowpoke while he was working on his last degree (psychiatry) and they just got married a couple of years ago.  Cowpoke was working on her Doctorate in I-don’t-know-what when they met.

Scholar has three kids from his previous marriage.  His oldest is Frenchie.  The university she went to for undergrad requires that you declare a major after your sophomore year; she had absolutely no idea what she wanted to do, so she decided to major in French, the foreign language that she had taken in high school.  She took a year off after graduating and is now about to start working on the second year in her Master of Social Work program.  Then there’s Pollyanna.  She is an incredibly unique spirit – I don’t even know how to describe her.  She’s very Earthy, P.C., and exuberant.  Wow.  I really don’t know how to put Pollyanna into words.  And Scholar’s youngest is Squint.  Squint is and always has been shy/an introvert…except for this one year when he overcompensated for it by bothering the hell out of everyone…yea, he still does that a little bit – but nowhere near comparison to that one year.  Anyways, he’s brilliantly intelligent and is currently majoring in Math.

Remember how I said that all of my cousins and I are conveniently close in age?  Well here’s how we all lay out:  Bookworm was born in 1983 (she’s 26); Frenchie was born in 1985 (she’s 24); Fire and I were born in 1986 (we’re 23); Pollyanna was born in 1987 (she’s 22); Ursula was born in 1988 (she’s 21); Squint was born in 1989 (he’s 20); and Chip and Dale were born in 1990 (they’re going to be 19 in August).  phew! As I said earlier, none of us are particularly close with Bookworm.  But Frenchie and I always paired up, as did Pollyanna and Ursula, and Squint, Chip, and Dale always grouped together.  Fire has always been pretty close with all of us.  We still pair up a bit, but now that we’re older, we really all pretty much hang out together.

Alright, so now that that’s out of the way, I can actually talk about the trip!

Like I said earlier, we went to Asheville, North Carolina this year.  Thursday was day one and it pretty much just consisted of everyone arriving and then chilling in the lobby for the hotel happy hour.  The most eventful occurrence of the evening was when the entire hotel power went out and switched to backup generators for about an hour.  I have never experienced that before – the closest I’ve come was actually on another family reunion:  a kitchen fire set off the fire alarm and the whole hotel was evacuated.  It was 3am and we were on the 17^th floor.

Anyways, the second day of this past reunion was absolutely nuts; Beast definitely overbooked the schedule.  And it didn’t help that Pollyanna kept us an hour late after breakfast for personal issues (she does that a lot).  We started off the day touring the Biltmore Estate.  God, that place is gorgeous.  During that process, we all got split up initially because Bookworm and Gramma are in wheelchairs and had to take the elevators instead of the stairs and couldn’t go in to some rooms.  But then it just became too hard for the rest of us to remain together; I mean, there were so many of us and the Biltmore mansion was crowded and huge.  Next up on Friday’s schedule was lunch at The Grove Park Inn, this really rustic old hotel that’s outside walls are constructed entirely out of massive boulders.  The only problem was:  Pollyanna was nowhere to be found when it came time to leave (not surprisingly, she managed to get separated all by herself) and she didn’t have her cell phone on.  We waited for 20 minutes before Beast sent me back into the mansion via the exit in order to go backwards and try to retrieve her.  So once all of us were finally reassembled, we headed to lunch.  The Grove Park Inn was absolutely beautiful and the terrace where we ate had a gorgeous view of the cascading hillsides below.  The lunch was quite lovely until Ursula exploded at me (even though we’re older, all of the cousins are still forced to sit at the “kid table”).  Somehow, money came up into conversation and I made a vague reference to all of the money that she owes Beast and Martyr (which is a story for another day).  No one else at the table other than Chip and Dale even knew what I was referring to and they would have thought nothing of it if Ursula had just shrugged it off.  But no…my comment unexpectedly set her off and she bashed the shit out of me.  I mean, she just didn’t stop – she ranted for probably 10 minutes (which felt like an eternity to me).  I was awfully embarrassed – she really made a scene – and I just sat there an took it, not even defending myself against her outrageous accusations; I didn’t want to contribute anything whatsoever to her petty charades.  Anyways, after that disaster, we toured the Highland Brewing Company brewery.  That was by far the most fun we had all day:  we got to drink copious amounts of six different varieties of beer and Beast, Dale, Squint and I beat Cowpoke, Scholar, Frenchie, and Chip in an exciting game of cornhole!  When it came time to leave, I realized that I had forgotten to buy a t-shirt, so I went to do that just as everyone was piling into the car.  It took me maybe five-to-seven minutes to make my selection and the dude threw in two pint glasses and a handful of bumper stickers for free.  Just as I was waiting for the guy to bring back my change, Martyr came furiously charging into the brewery, barking at me to hurry up.  I had no idea why she was so upset, seemingly out of nowhere.  Even Beast was stunned by her sudden anger.  It wasn’t until later that we realized that she just wanted to get back to the hotel so that she could take a nap before dinner.  And we later had dinner and margaritas at a local Mexican restaurant to top off the day.

The original plan for day three was to drive the scenic Blue Ridge Parkway to Cherokee, North Carolina, have lunch there and check it out, and make sure to get back to the hotel early enough in the afternoon so that Gramma could take a nap before our big last dinner.  Well, after about 45 minutes into the two-and-a-half hour drive, Beast receives a call from Scholar saying that they only had one-eighth of a tank of gas remaining.  BAD news – the exits off of the Parkway are few and far between since it’s a government road.  We ended up driving two hours out of the way to find the nearest gas station.  The drive was incredibly swervy and I got carsick; I didn’t think it was ever going to end.  Then, we were stuck at the gas station for a while because I’m pretty sure that all 17 of us used their one little unisex bathroom.  Once that was all said and done with, we got back on the road and continued our trek to Cherokee.  We eventually arrived at 1:45pm and ate at an Arby’s, then walked around the downtown area for an hour-and-a-half before returning to Asheville.  During our downtime while Gramma had her nap, Beast told me that he and Aston were heading to the Grand Bohemian Hotel for a couple of drinks at the Red Stag Grill and asked me if I would like to accompany them – and you know I’ve never been one to turn down drinks!  After our bar adventure, Beast, Aston, and I joined the rest of the family for our big dinner at a highly esteemed local Italian restaurant.  So, it somehow came up at dinner amongst Chip, Dale, Ursula, Frenchie, Pollyanna, Squint, and me that I tend to talk out of the side of my mouth a lot when I get drunk.  This really intrigued Frenchie and Pollyanna, so it was decided, based on the full support of the cousins, that I was going to get drunk – and let’s face it, my family kinda expects it of me at this point.  Then, at the end of dinner, someone suggested that one of us give a speech/toast (although, aren’t toasts supposed to occur at the beginning of the occasion?  Oh well, anyways…).  Naturally, everyone pointed to Beast, but he declined, which is incredibly uncharacteristic of him.  After about a minute of everyone pointing fingers at each other, my liquid courage kicked in and I volunteered my words.  I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I’m confident that it was fitting and appropriate; everyone seemed to be smiling and nodding their heads in agreement throughout it.  And I’m not going to lie, it made me feel really good – honorable, if I dare say.

After dinner, we all returned to the hotel and just kept it low-key for the remainder of the evening.  The “adults” chilled in one room (Beast’s, as always) while all the cousins hung out in another (Chip’s, Dale’s, and mine – the apples don’t fall far from the party family tree).  We were doing YouTube research (and by research, I mean we were all sharing funny and outrageous video discoveries that we’ve happened to stumble upon in the past and archive as awesome) in the sitting area while Chip stepped into the bedroom to make “the call” to his girlfriend.  Suddenly, Chip called us into the room and the most unexpected sight was playing out in front of our eyes.  You know when you’re a kid and you play in front of the windows at night when you’re at hotels because they become like mirrors?  Remember when your mother told you not to change your clothes in view of them because they were still clear windows inward to everyone from the outside?  Well, I guess this dude never learned that lesson.  At a hotel across the way in a room with all of the lights on and the curtains fully opened, there was a totally naked obese man laying spread-eagle on his bed, crotch facing the window, masturbating.  It was horrific.  But it was like watching a car wreck:  as awful as it is, you just can’t look away.  And, us being the sick fucks that we are, we turned out the lights in our room so that we could continue to watch without him noticing.  He even had a cigarette between goes!  We entertained ourselves like this for about 20 minutes and then decided to end it on that note and call it a night.

Sunday morning simply consisted of breakfast and group photos before we all said our goodbyes and hit the road.

I love these reunions.  I really wish we could see each other more, but it’s hard with all of us living all over the place.  But at least I know I’ve got the upcoming reunion.  I’ll just have to wait until next July!

•     •     •     •     •

I checked in with Sly the other day and it turns out that his toe is healed and completely pain-free.  My surgery was, in fact, a success!  Woo-hoo!

Sidetracked

(Originally written on May 19, 2009)

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Gaston called me at around 1:40pm (EDT).  I called him back (not sure if I should have, but I did) while waiting for my lunch-interview and told him that I would call him once I got to my hotel in San Francisco.  That was the first time we’ve spoken since the 14^th (Thursday to Tuesday, five days, without any communication whatsoever).  He just wanted to call and see, “How is Cali?”

It’s now 3pm local time and I’m sitting at the hotel bar with a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.  There is a trio of middle-aged ladies at a table nearby that Martyr would absolutely love.  They’re talking about pets (dogs and cats, to be specific) and guzzling wine.  They remind me a lot of her.

Gaston just called me and is now throwing me off from what I thought I had avowed myself to do about our current situation.  He just wanted to chitchat.  Then I pointed out that we haven’t spoken in five days.  He didn’t even realize that it had been so long until he thought about it (therefore, my purposeful avoidance went unnoticed).  Throughout our conversation, I was trying to be short, but I really did enjoy hearing from him.  I mean, I had this whole realistic and logical explanation for why he hadn’t called thought through in my mind:  that he thought I was upset/mad since I hadn’t contacted him (which I was) and that he, consequently, was going to wait on me to get over it and contact him whenever I was ready to talk it out (which I was committing myself never to do).  So much for that…  Anyways, he said that he had actually thought about calling me before today, that there wasn’t much else to do in south Georgia.  Boy, how commending.  Go figure – that’s all he said about it.

Still no mention of his decision, no hint of progress.  Nothing.

So I have now thrown myself off of the track I had committed myself to.  I don’t know what I’m going to tell Scarlet.  I’ve never lied to him and don’t even want to think about starting, but I’m just not so sure I can resist Gaston if he does decide to give me another chance.  And I’m not sure why.  I know, logically, that I shouldn’t, but, emotionally, I am intensely inclined to let him take me back – even though I recognize that’s backwards and that it should be a joint decision.

Ultimately, I need to either grow a pair and just commit to my decision, or just give myself time enough to do so without doubt.  My heart is so weak…

At the same time, I can’t help but question how in-tune Gaston may be to this fact.  After this entire ordeal, I can’t control my suspicions, even though everything inside me wants to bury them beyond even my own memory.

Why am I contributing ingredients to this recipe for my own disaster?

Ironically, the song playing at the bar right now:

If he don’t love you by now,

He ain’t never ever gonna love you.

Ooooh-ooh-ooh-ooh!

I should have listened to those lyrics months ago, and I should take them even further into consideration now.

I need to just think of the guide from my personal Bacchus winery tour today:  gorgeous, young, funny…  I should focus on knowing that there are better guys out there – even in Modesto!

Jots from the Day

(Originally written on May 18, 2009)

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During breakfast, I heard Samantha’s old ringback song – it’s the first time I’ve ever heard it besides when calling her.  It made me think of her and smile.

•     •     •     •     •

The security guard behind the front desk of the Bacchus administration building was wearing Gucci sunglasses…  For one thing, it’s weird that he was wearing sunglasses indoors.  And for the other – and I’m not sure if things are different in California, but I was unaware that Gucci anything was affordable on a security guard’s salary…

There was a peacock freely roaming the Bacchus campus and a HUGE blue parrot outside the entrance to the administration building (the parrot, unlike the peacock, was caged).  I was amazed:  the peacock would walk within three feet of people and never appeared skittish.  I wasn’t expecting it to be so friendly.  I suppose I also wasn’t expecting the Bacchus campus to be a menagerie…

Oh – and my interviews all went well today.

•     •     •     •     •

There really is NOTHING in this town.  For example, the population back home is 100,000 (including the 30,000 University students) and there are 120 bars downtown;  here, the population is 200,000 and there is a grand total of 15 bars in the entire city!…and we all know how important drinking and bar life are to me…

I’ve also noticed that there aren’t many people here in their early-mid twenties; it’s a bunch of families with younger kids.

A New Chapter

(Originally written on May 11, 2009)

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It has gotten to the point where I’ve lost hope in finding an ideal job and I have just started applying to anything and everything for which I think I stand any realistic chance whatsoever at being hired for.  Just this past Wednesday, I was extended an offer as a summer intern at a poultry company and I accepted it.  By no means is this what I think of as an exciting company to work for, but some source of income is way better than no source of income.  This company, we’ll call it Chickadee, currently has absolutely no marketing research department at the moment, so I’m basically going to be their guinea pig.  I’m kinda excited about it, though, because they want to make use of my graphic design skills in addition to the research and statistics.  I know that I will be working at their corporate office, but I can’t help but picture in my mind that I will be driving up to the building through a field of chicken houses.  It’s also discouraging knowing that it’s a one-hour commute (one-way, two hours roundtrip) away.

This was also the same day of my final client project presentation for the company that sent me out to Cincinnati for a second interview over spring break and then didn’t even offer me a job – they instead gave it to the biggest idiot in our class who just happens to have mastered the art of schmoozing.  Nevertheless, out of the six of us on the student project team, five interviewed with them, four received second interviews, two were extended job offers, and one accepted.  So, really, none of us wanted to be there, except, perhaps, the one who accepted their job offer.  Needless to say, the lunch preceding the presentation was the longest hour-and-a-half of my life. For example, they asked us if anyone was taking a vacation to celebrate graduating.  There was a seven-second hesitation/pause/dead silence before we each went around the table and all just plainly and bluntly said, “No”.  After that torturous lunch, the presentation just couldn’t end soon enough.  And then we got stuck in rush-hour traffic and our hour-and-twenty-minute drive home became two hours long.  It was excruciating.

Meanwhile, in the midst of all of that, Bacchus finally got back to me and told me that they want to fly me out to California in a week.  I’m excited about going there and checking everything out for myself, but I’m still basically internally knocking it out of contention because I don’t want to move so far away where I know absolutely no one.

•     •     •     •     •

By the way, I forgot to mention last time that when Gaston found out the web address of my blog and read it, he immediately showed it to Napoleon (and probably called Tomboy and told her about it too).  If he was so extremely embarrassed by my publishing of his “life” on the internet, WHY THEN SHOW IT TO MORE OF HIS FRIENDS?

Anyway, as far as avoiding Gaston and everyone associated with him…that’s not going so well (My weakness is pretty predictable, isn’t it?).  Gaston still hasn’t made any decision as to whether or not he wants to continue whatever it was that we had going on between us before the blog eruption.  I also forgot to make mention of this last time:  during the blog confrontation, Gaston told me that he was “really starting to love [me]” and that he hasn’t fallen for a girl this hard since Heartbreaker, the “benchmark” girlfriend, if you will, who tore out his heart right after high school and continued to stomp on it for a couple years afterward (he compares – or I should say, compared – everything in our “relationship” to that one).  Given that he feels so strongly that way, why is this decision so hard for him?  If you really love someone, why drag them along like this?

Yuengling thinks Gaston and I are done.  Again.  Before we all went downtown on Thursday night and it was just the two of us in the apartment, I asked Gaston if I could spend the night with him and he replied, “Sure, if you want to.  I don’t care.”  Then I asked him if he would ever spend the night at my apartment again and he told me, “We’ll have to see,” in a skeptic tone, not optimistically.  But he’s always that way, so I didn’t think much of it.  Well, once we were at Polly’s and I was talking with Yuengling about the whole blog situation, he informed me that Gaston had told him about my asking to stay the night and (apparently) played it up to Yuengling in a “I can’t believe she can’t tell that I’m done with her” sort of way, as though he’s made his decision obvious to me.  Why would Gaston even tell him about that?  I know that he did because he was the only person in the apartment with me when I asked!  That is just completely unnecessary to me.  Anyways, in conjunction with Yuengling’s belief that Gaston and I are over, Yuengling also said that Gaston would never actually tell me his decision and would just wait for it to fade or “prompt” me to do it.  I asked Yuengling if Gaston actually said those words and he responded, “No, it’s just his type.”  How comforting.

•     •     •     •     •

Completely opposite of what I just described above, last night Gaston invited me over (yes, you read that correctly, he instigated it) to just hang out and watch TV.  He ended up convincing me to watch This Is Spinal Tap with him.  I had never seen it before and thought it was going to be, like, a documentary about a death metal band (and I’m not a big fan of that particular genre of music).  I don’t know why I was under that impression…  The band name “Spinal Tap” just makes me think of it that way I guess…  Nevertheless, it was actually really good!

Throughout the whole movie, Gaston was being so affectionate.  He was playing with my hands, sweetly kissing me, pulling me closer to cuddle with him…  And after the movie, there was no attempt from either of us toward hooking up and I simply went back to my apartment to go to bed.  I can’t quite describe how amazing it felt.  Genuine and – dare I say – loving.

It really pulled at my heartstrings and makes me feel more confident that Gaston really does want to be with me.

•     •     •     •     •

On another note, I am done with school for FOREVER!  What a relief – even though I would feel a little better having the cushioning of a real job…  I have been awaiting this moment for quite some time now:  no more studying, no more tests, no more class, no more seminars!  Woo-hoo!

It’s Always Something

(Originally written on April 19, 2009)

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I realize that my posts have been becoming fewer and farther-between lately.  This is because graduation is approaching and my professors and project team members just continue to regurgitate more and more of a workload into my lap.  Especially my client project.  But I won’t get into that, it’s incredibly uninteresting and, to be perfectly honest, I’m tired from having worked on it like a madwoman over the past few days.  Anyways, I’ve finished my schoolwork for the day, so we’re moving on.

As far as the job front is going, the interview process with Bacchus isn’t moving as quickly as I had hoped it would.  I continue expecting phone interviews, and the same chick keeps calling me, asking the same questions, and telling me that she’ll call me back for another interview…As frustrating as this cycle is, there is nothing to be done.  I mean, it’s the best lead I have right now in terms of employment.  Oh well.

Thursday afternoon/evening/night, I went to Polly’s with Yuengling and Sly, a friend who looks just like Jack Black and bartends at Polly’s a bit; I probably arrived downtown at around 6pm or 7pm.  It was a pretty chill night and I wasn’t drinking that heavily because I had gotten severe sunburn out at the apartment “pool” (the quotes are because it’s not much bigger than the size of a puddle) with Napoleon earlier that afternoon.

Gaston and Napoleon had an engagement party to attend and then were going to come downtown.  At around 11pm, I was just tired and ready to go home.  However, Yuengling said he wasn’t comfortable driving yet and he needed to walk home one of our sloshed buddies (whose birthday was that night).  When he got back from this endeavor, he still wasn’t ready to drive – which was fine.  I normally would have had no problem waiting, but my sleepiness was more severe than I have ever experienced and I was trying to convince him that I would be fine walking home.

Right around 11:30pm or so, Gaston, Napoleon, and Leto all walked into Polly’s.  Leto and Napoleon greeted me; however, Gaston proceeded straight past me and toward the bar.  At this point I had already decided I was going home, so that didn’t even bother me like it usually would have.  Yuengling then went back to chat, I presume, and I saw this as my window to escape, so I left and texted him once I made it home safely.

I spent an unnecessarily drawn-out amount of time on Friday attending doctor appointments and getting prescriptions filled and finally made it back to the apartment around 3pm.  Napoleon was hanging out on their deck and I asked him what he and Gaston were up to for the evening.  “Well, Gaston is headed home, but I don’t know what I’m doing.”

No freakin’ way.  This was the weekend of that frat party that Gaston asked me to be his date to a month ago.  I couldn’t believe he was about to stand me up again!

Last semester, Gaston invited me to their semiformal.  Turns out, he was drunk and didn’t remember asking me.  I gave him an out, saying it was no big deal if he didn’t want to go, but he insisted that we were going.  Two days before the semiformal, he disappeared and absolutely no one knew where he was (his phone was off).  The afternoon of the event, he sent me a text that he wasn’t going to be able to make it.  I mean, I know he hates confrontation, but good god!

Anyways, I had no reason to suspect otherwise this time because Napoleon’s information was the first I had heard of it.  Thus, I went back into Gaston’s room to receive confirmation.  He was playing all chill and everything, whatever, and then I asked if I could kiss him before I went up to my apartment to grab a bite to eat.

No.

Why not?  Are you going back on the deal we made the other day?

No, you just made a really stupid, irresponsible decision last night.

This conversation played out for quite some time, only to arrive at him telling me that I can do whatever I want to do and he wasn’t mad at me.

Well you always seem to have some excuse not to kiss me lately.  Do you not like kissing me?

You know the answer to that.  I like kissing you.

I just don’t understand, if you aren’t mad at me, why you’re punishing me.

I’m not punishing you.

Then why won’t you kiss me?

I’ve just had a bad day.

And, of course, he wouldn’t tell me what made his day bad.  He just insisted that he would be back Saturday by 6pm and that he would then take me to the party or whatever.

Then, as he was leaving he pulled me in for a hug and held me tighter for longer than usual, kissing my cheek.  When he eventually pulled away, he gave me a little peck on the lips (which is all I wanted in the first place) and reassured me that he would call when he headed back up.

Vino + Sex = Success!

(Originally written on April 15, 2009)

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Yesterday I had a brief “interview” with the VP of sales of the winery in Cali (we will from here-on-out call it Bacchus, in honor of the Greek god of wine).  After speaking with him last week, I was left with the impression that he wanted to just see where I may best fit in with the company.  By the way, this dude was Beast’s boss for five years.

Monday was Beast’s and Martyr’s 24^th wedding anniversary.  I had called each of them at some point during the day to give my best wishes as well as ask a few questions about taxes (this year was my first time filing) and my interview/meeting.  Neither of them answered my calls throughout the course of the entire day and didn’t call me back.  Until…they were at a wine bar down the street from my apartment and asked me to join them for a drink, so I went.

So…Beast gave Martyr a fox-fur coat for their anniversary.  I’m not sure exactly how much it will be put to use in the southeast, but that’s cool.

Anyways, at this conjuncture the Bacchus interview came into conversation.  I told Beast that I was under the impression that the meeting was going to be less like a standard interview and more the VP informing me about the company and finding out where I may best fit in (as mentioned earlier).  He fired back with, “You can’t assume anything!  You better go in there prepared, he’s going to ask you [A, B, C, …],” blah, blah, blah.

After this lecture-conversation, I went back home and better prepared myself with Mintel reports for Bacchus as well as the wine industry as a whole.  I also crammed in some additional research on the Bacchus brands and products – just to be sure that I cover all of my bases.

As it turns out, I drove an hour (one way) just for what turned out to be a 30-minute get-to-know-you session.  Thus, only one-fifth of my two-and-a-half hour venture was actually spent “interviewing”.  However futile this may have been, it was a success nonetheless.  And I had also gotten a lot of my work done earlier in the day (which, little did I know, ended up being useless after my client project meeting that took place earlier today).

This called for celebration!

During my drive home, I noticed that Gaston had twittered that he was bored and looking for something to do.  So I called him, informed him that I was on my way home from a successful “interview”, and asked if he would accompany me to Polly’s for a celebratory drink or two (to which he agreed to join me).

Once I finally got back to the apartment (looking all spiffy in my three piece suit), I walked into Gaston’s apartment about to ask if he was ready to go…and there’s Slutty McSlutterson on the sofa.  Great.  It took seemingly forever for her to leave, but eventually we made it to Polly’s while Napoleon walked there to meet us in order to get in his exercise for the day.  Gaston pretty much ignored me once we got there, what a surprise, everything was as usual.

Okay, I hope that the person who invented pantyhose is serving eternal damnation in Hell.  Before leaving to my interview yesterday morning, a miniscule snag on one of my fingernails caused a run in my pantyhose at my ankle.  Thankfully, I had another pair – but not for long!  The second pair met their demise by means of my barstool.  This is always annoying, let alone with the additions of the struggle of getting them on and their constant discomfort.

Back to what I was saying, we ended up leaving Polly’s by 8pm so that Napoleon could get back to catch American Idol.  I made pasta for dinner and Gaston bitched that I never cooked for him, yet he chose not to eat any of it…  Later, Whitey came over and he, Gaston, and I played drinking games:  two rounds of Fuck the Dealer and one game of Circle of Death.

After all of this, I was pretty tired and ready for bed, wary of the long day that lay ahead of me.  Gaston and Whitey, on the other hand, wanted to go out and were trying to convince me to join them.  Gaston pleaded with me:

Just one hour.  Please?  I’ll do anything.

If I go out for just one hour, you have to stop this whole not-kissing thing.

Okay.

And we had ourselves a deal!

So after one hour we headed back home and Gaston and I had amazing, carnal sex.  I honestly don’t know how else to possibly better describe it, but it was incredible.  It had come out during Circle of Death:  being the only girl playing, I pulled out “Never have I ever gone down on a girl.”  Gaston lowered his finger.  This wouldn’t be such a surprise if he had ever done so to me, but he never has.  I questioned him and he assured me that, yes indeed, he has (although, not to me, of course).  I just assumed he was one of those guys that never did that because it grossed him out, and it never really bothered me that much because it has never really done it for me, if you will.  So last night, that was a first.  He insisted on doing it to disprove my assumption, and he did a (surprisingly) damn good job.

AND THEN we cuddled all night – at least, every time that I woke up we were cuddling.  He never does that.  When it was time for me to get up and get ready for class, he held me tighter, telling me, “Nope, you’re all mine.”

Maybe things between us are starting to get back to the way they were…

All Work and No Play…

(Originally written on April 6, 2009)

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Last night, Gaston got back from Miami.  I had no idea when to expect him to be back, I was at Beast’s and Martyr’s house (who are officially working on getting back together, by the way) for Ursula’s 21^st birthday.  While there, Ursula, Chip, and Dale revealed that they had all seen Fast and Furious over the course of the weekend and that it was awesome.  Having still not heard anything from Gaston since Wednesday, I decided that it was time to stop anticipating and just initiate contact myself (just like I usually do).  So, I texted him “Will you go with me to see Fast and Furious on Tuesday?  I’ll pay because I’ve got tons of movie gift certificates” (the certificates were part of Martyr’s Valentine’s Day gift to me – along with a tub of gumballs, a card, and a bottle of wine).  I actually haven’t even seen a movie in theaters since Role Models, which was mine and Gaston’s first date (which we went to with a few friends and he referred to as a “pseudo-date”).

Anyways, he ended up immediately calling me back saying, “I was just about to call you!  Are you at trivia?”  I told him where I was and why and asked him what his response was to my text.  He didn’t actually read it, so I asked him about Tuesday and he confirmed.  I hope he holds to that…

Before getting off the phone, I told him to call me after trivia (which he was heading to, late) because I wanted to see him and hear about his weekend.  That call ended at 8:30pm.  I got home from Ursula’s 21^st birthday celebration around 11pm.  Having not heard back from him, I texted him saying I was home, to which he replied “headed home”.  After waiting 20 minutes (when it only takes approximately five minutes to get to the apartment from trivia), I told him (via text) that I should instead go to bed since I had a long day ahead of me.

So you aren’t coming down?

Are you even home?

I told you I was.

NO, he told me he was headed home.  Whatever.  Now it was 11:30pm and I decided to just come down because I didn’t feel like getting into it over petty technicalities.  He was seated at their dining table (which he never does – he’s always either on the sofa or in his bed, both of which lead to cuddling opportunities).  I was originally playing up my tiredness in hopes we’d relocate (I sat completely opposite of him across the table – still hesitant as to how upset he remained over the whole pregnancy joke thing).

I asked him how his weekend was.

It was fun.

That’s all he said!  After getting upset that I was going to go to bed instead of come down to see him, that was IT!

I continued for approximately 10 minutes to pretend to pass out in my chair.  I then said, “Well can I go up to bed if all you have to say about the past four days is that they were ‘fun’”…Another five minutes go by, still no response.  Finally, he simply says, “I don’t care.  Go to bed.”

What an aggravating son-of-a-bitch!  I proceeded to go to bed.

•     •     •     •     •

As early of a start as I had this morning, I hopelessly hope my evening arrives just as soon.  After my first class, I had a pointless, unproductive, unnecessarily long group project meeting.  Then, I went to Polly’s to study for a pointless test that I have tomorrow for a pointless class.

While there, however, I did get a recruitment call from a company that I hadn’t even applied to.  I’m not too interested in relocating to where their headquarters are, but at this point, I’ll take whatever I can get.

Anyways, from there I went to another pointless class (which I would have skipped, but Scarlet told me that I’ve been doing that too much lately).  Then, I had another painfully god-awful seminar.  I WAS originally planning on skipping out on the social hour following the presentation, BUT my program mentor came, so I was essentially obligated to go.

Then Beast called and lectured at me for half-an-hour about finding a job.  He made me immediately draft a particular cover letter and e-mail it to him with my resume.

Ugh!

Now I have to pick back up my studying for that test tomorrow.  When does all this fun stop?

Punch Drunk Love

(Originally written on March 27, 2009)

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The same night that Gaston wanted to fight X, he was supposed to spend the night over at my place.  Well, when he got back both of us were drunk and upset about X and for some reason were having a sentimental conversation about the whole thing.  He was uncharacteristically emotional and dramatic and ended up saying that he could never be with me because, and I quote (even though I was drunk, I remember this quite clearly because it was so unlike him), “I saw you looking at him.  You just don’t look at me the way you look at X.  You still love him.”

Let me get a few things straight:

1. If I look at X with any particular emotions, they are disgust, pain, and betrayal, NOT love.
2. X is always going to hold a special place in my heart.  He was my first real boyfriend; we each lost our virginity to each other, and we were together for five years.
3. I haven’t really spoken to him since we broke up and I essentially don’t even know who he is anymore.  And I don’t care…so I definitely don’t still love him.

Anyways, the next day he had no recollection of this statement, so I just dismissed it as drunken banter.

Well, it came up in conversation over lunch yesterday – I believe I was just poking fun at him for being so emotional.  Gaston then told me, “I remember when I said that.  I know what I meant, but it came out wrong.”  Naturally, I asked what it was.  And he won’t tell me because “It is just something that doesn’t need to be said.”  He said that it was a “fact based on perception” about something that I do in terms of X.  That drives me crazy!  For one thing, if it’s based on perception, it’s not a fact.  Secondly, how am I supposed to do anything about it if I don’t know what it is?

So that was left unaddressed and he went to his interview.  Turns out that he did so well that they offered him a second interview on the spot.  So…we went to Polly’s to start drinking at like 6pm once he got back in town (“we” being Gaston, Napoleon, and me).  The plan was celebrating and then I finally would get to have decent sex when we got home.  However, as soon as we walk into the bar, there sits Slutty McSlutterson, a girl who he hooked up with once a while back and who he always focuses 100% of his attention on whenever she’s around.  Another one of our friends, Yuengling, was there with her (he was the very first person to complete the Around the World 100 Beer Club).

So we start off with Yuengling buying the four of us a round of shots (Napoleon is off the sauce for Lent), to which we toasted finding a job.  Shooter and Voodoo, the bartenders, both claimed that toast was lame, so we decided to do another shot.  No one was coming up with anything, so I jumped in with:  “To great sex, crazy stories, and good friends!”  Then, right before we all start drinking, Gaston goes, “Well I’m definitely not getting any of those.”

Seriously?  It’s been driving me nuts that we haven’t had sex and I’ve been trying to get him to do it all week!  So I texted him asking if he really felt that way, to which he replied, “Not lately.”  Then I texted him “Well you seemed pretty pleased on Monday.  Other than that, the only reason we haven’t had sex is because you keep standing me up!”  No reply on that one.

Anyways, Slutty McSlutterson ended up leaving at some point, planning to come back out.  After she was gone, Gaston was ready to stop ignoring me and I brought up how it bothered me and said something along the lines of him preferring to be with her. Besides claiming that she didn’t know anyone else there (even though she was there with Yuengling when we came in…), he started going off on me for being a jealous person and not trusting him.

He told me that’s why we aren’t in a relationship.

I know it’s not fair for me to punish him for what Beast and X have done, but he should understand that trust is something that takes time.  I can’t believe that he seriously won’t date me just because it bothers me when he flirts with other girls…

This really upset me and I decided to walk home because I was about to burst into tears, and I did as soon as I stepped out the door.  Yuengling came running out after me to make sure that I was okay and offered me a ride.  It was really nice that he did that.  But I decided that I wanted to walk it off and he made me promise to text him when I got home.

I was finally able to talk to Samantha for the first time in what feels like forever.  I called her crying about the whole situation when I got into bed (it was at like 8:30pm).  Even though I didn’t want to hear it, she told me exactly what to do:  move on.  I just really like him and I’ve put so much into it.  I know that I could probably do better, but I don’t care, there’s just something about him.  I don’t know what it is, but it’s keeping me here.

Well, I’m about to go shower and whatnot – Yuengling and I are going to Polly’s for a chill night, where we’ll probably discuss all of what is contained in this post.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

Introductions

(Originally written on March 15, 2009)

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The next two weeks are absolutely nuts for me.  Let me start by telling you that spring break was last week and I got practically nothing done in terms of prepping for these two hellish weeks ahead.  BUT, I did have a second interview, so that was at least productive.  So I’m impatiently awaiting for Wednesday to roll around to hear back as to whether or not I got an offer, I have a half-midterm on Wednesday, two different half-midterms on Monday, a midterm on Tuesday, a half-midterm on Wednesday, and a presentation on Thursday.  phew!

Furthering my procrastination with each character typed to this post…I am going to take the opportunity to briefly introduce you to a few of the most prominent people in my life (in no particular order) before delving into stories about them:

Scarlet – my gay BFF.  Actually, my BFF regardless of being gay.  He is a lot like me, but his bluntness is a bit more, well… exaggerated.  He is always there for me in times of need, especially when it comes to telling me what I don’t want to hear.

Samantha – my former roommate who lives in Vermont, the only roommate I still talk to.  She is lively, caring, and just as much of a sexual person as I am.  She understands all of my relationship problems (beyond just the sex mentioned above, by the way) because she has been there, done that.

Chip and Dale – my identical twin baby brothers.  They are two of the coolest guys ever.  They just won their battle of the bands last week, Chip plays guitar and Dale plays bass.  Even though they’re identical, don’t let that fool ya – they are different in a lot of ways!

Ursula – my younger sister.  She is absolutely gorgeous, and wins beauty pageants and stuff.  BUT, our relationship is on and off because she can be one of the most selfish, disrespectful people I know.

Beast – my dad.  This name comes from Beauty and the Beast.  The reasons for dislike being summed up as briefly as possible below:

He got cancer; my mom literally saved his life; he went into remission; he had at least one affair; my mom caught him in the act; he admitted it; he denied it; he finally regained her trust; he got caught doing it again; then he moved out.

However, he’s my dad and I do love him and enjoy his company, despite the hell he’s put my mom through.

Martyr – my mom.  She always views the above situation as “her failure to the family”.  She’s always been a religious person, but after the whole ordeal explained above, she became crazy spiritual.  She now regularly tries to convince me to believe in God, which is incredibly annoying.

X – my ex-boyfriend.  He won’t come up too often, but I do occasionally revisit the situation and vent.

Gaston – my “not-boyfriend” neighbor.  He’s a manly man from south Georgia.  I really enjoy his company and want a relationship with him, but he claims that he’s “not mature enough” right now.  Whatever.  That stupid title (even though I want it) isn’t going to prevent me from throwing away what we have.  *I’ll share this story soon.

Napoleon – Gaston’s roommate (also my neighbor).  He is pretty closed-minded and can be a real ass at times, but is a good friend that will help you out when in need.

Well that’s nowhere near everyone, but that’ll do for now.