“Artistic” Refreshment

(Originally written on July 23, 2009)

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This evening, I had dinner plans with Michelangelo, one of my friends from high school.  Michelangelo and I go pretty far back; he was a football player and I was a football (and competitive) cheerleader.  On some game Fridays, he would let me wear his jersey.  Ahh…  And did I mention that I’ve always had a mini-crush on him?

But anyways, it really all started our sophomore year.  Both of us are artistically talented – although, Michelangelo is far more talented than me­ – and we had Graphic Design I together with Ms. Gemini.  She was my favorite teacher in high school…actually, my favorite teacher ever.  Michelangelo and another guy sat next to each other at computers behind mine and they used to play with my hair (Michelangelo would sometimes chew on the ends, soaking them in saliva…my hair was much longer back then…and blonde, thanks to regular highlight treatments) and do other things to playfully antagonize me.  And Ms. Gemini always used to yell at me for it, “Elliott!  Stop flirting!  Or else I’ll have to separate you!”  But she never did.  Oh memories… Michelangelo wasn’t in my Graphic Design II or III classes; however, X was in Graphic Design III with me – conveniently, at the time we were dating.

Well, since we’ve graduated from high school, Chip and Dale have taken Ms. Gemini’s Graphic Design classes a la my suggestion.  X and I visited a couple of times when we were still dating – it was like a doubly great visit:  we got to see my brothers and our former teacher.  However, since X and I have been broken up, I’ve been making those visits with Michelangelo instead.  Ms. Gemini really enjoys it when we stop in, but I think she likes it better when Michelangelo accompanies me because X was never really artistically-oriented (she also taught Michelangelo and me art and does a lot of business selling her own pieces and designs).

I almost majored in graphic design in undergrad, but Beast and Martyr said that it would be a waste of a free education to major in art, that you either have that talent or you don’t and that it’s something that can’t be taught.  I suppose they were right; just as artsy as I am, I am also gifted intellectually, and my statistics degree is certainly more useful for getting a job (and it got me into the MMR program).

Michelangelo, on the other hand, just graduated this past May with his Bachelor of Art in Sculpture.  The reason that it took him five years is because he was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma right after our freshman year of college and had to take a semester off for the treatment and then took a light load the following semester while he recovered.  That really changed him a lot.  For example, Michelangelo was extremely religious in high school – I remember one discussion in Graphic Design I between Michelangelo, the guy he sat next to, and me in which we were talking about masturbation, for some reason, and Michelangelo revealed that he had never masturbated because the Bible says that it is sinful.  He also never drank in high school.  However, a couple of months ago over beers at Polly’s, Michelangelo and I had a little heart-to-heart about cancer, religion, and love, and it turns out that he and I share a lot of “beliefs” (or lack thereof) in common with each other through our similar experiences.

Anyways, as I mentioned at the beginning of this post, I had dinner with Michelangelo this evening.  However, there was something significantly different about this meeting from our last few interactions:  Michelangelo paid for everything (as opposed to us each paying our own) – both dinner and drinks afterward.  It almost felt date-like.  Anyways, it was really nice to see him again; it’s been a while.  Michelangelo took me out to the eastside for a sushi dinner.  I thought that was going to be it, but then he asked me if I wanted to go downtown for a couple of drinks, to which I was more-than-happy to oblige – more for his extended company, though, than just the allure of alcohol.  So, throughout the course of the evening, we discussed our lives over sushi, beer, and wine (Guinness for him and Selbach Riesling for me, to be precise).  Since graduating in May, he’s been doing odd jobs such as repairing flooring and cabinetry for the most part and is waiting to hear back about a job where he would be doing construction work in Aruba for six-to-eight months.  I told him that he’d be crazy not to take a job in paradise; besides, it’s only temporary – what an experience!

Ah, it really was great to see him again.

•     •     •     •     •

Gaston is back – ugh!

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!

Rampant Miscellany

(Originally written on April 23, 2009)

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Graduation from my Master’s program is less than a month away and Beast and Martyr keep asking me what I want.  First, allow me to share with you what happened with last year’s graduation present:

The deal has always been that I would get a new car upon graduating from college.  I drive a 2001 Nissan Altima that I got when I turned 16.  Yes, I turned 16 in 2001, but Beast, being his frugal self, got a great deal on it.  It had been some dude’s business car for a year – so, considering it was only one year old (since the 2001 models were released in 2000), it had a lot of miles on it…hence, the “deal”.  Okay, so anyways, when I graduated last May I didn’t need a new car since I was staying here for another year and my little Altima runs great. *  In lieu of this, I instead got $1,000 (which – hey – I’m not complaining, something’s better than nothing!) and Beast got a brand new motorcycle for himself.  I just felt a little jipped, that’s all.

*  Random memory/thought triggered:  I’ve never been one to name my car.  However, in high school my best friend (at the time) and I decided that we thought that my emergency break looked like a penis and that we needed to name it something appropriate.  We decided that Newt was a very fitting, penis-sounding name.  I still refer to it as Newt to this day!

Back to what I want for graduation…  It’s hard to ask for anything until I know what I’m going to be doing with my life.  Whenever I eventually find a job and depending on where it is, I might not need a car.  Martyr is insistent upon doing a mother-daughter massage.  Whatever, that’s cool.  Other than that, though, I think I want an iPod touch.  Chip and Dale are graduating this May too (from high school).  I asked Dale what he thought.  He liked the idea and thinks he’s going to ask for the same thing.  Good deal.

Speaking of job uncertainty, I was supposed to have heard from the HR chick at Bacchus on Monday.  Still no call.

In order to become better acquainted with the wine business processes and Bacchus’s products in general, Beast helped me set up a “shadowing”, if you will, for this Friday. I will be going around with one of the wine salesmen from his distributorship for the day.  I’m definitely looking forward to expanding my knowledge about my beloved wine and its industry, BUT this is going to require a full day’s work starting at 7 in the morning!  I mean, not wake up at 7am, but be there and ready-to-go at 7am.  That is going to be rough…

•     •     •     •     •

I FULLY COMPLETED the campus newspaper crossword yesterday ALL ON MY OWN!  Woo-hoo!  I knocked it out in record speed:  all of it during my one-hour-and-fifteen-minute class while also paying some attention and taking notes.  It was a mini-achievement for me.

•     •     •     •     •

I had a test a couple of weeks ago in a class that is utterly pointless.  Just yesterday, I picked it up from my campus box, only to realize that I scored a 75 on it.  Wow.  My “I just don’t give a shit about school anymore” attitude has drastic effects.  My GPA is a 4.0.  Guess I won’t be holding onto that for the remainder of my education…  And I still don’t care.

I’m over it.  The entire school deal in all.  I am just ready to be done with it and enter the real world.

•     •     •     •     •

Upon getting back to the apartment after class Tuesday, I paid a visit to Gaston.  He was in his boxers, just being lazy and lying in bed.  It turned me on a little, not gonna lie.  So I laid with him for a bit and tried to coax him into hooking up. Yes, I actually had to persuade him to have sex.  This went on for quite some time.  At one point he said it wouldn’t be as fun because he was already practically naked, besides the fact that he had errands that he needed to run.  Then, at some slightly later point, he ended up just putting on a pair of shorts.  Then he took a call from Bluto.  This was my window of opportunity.

I started kissing down his chest and stomach…he made no effort to stop me (he had laid back down with me on his bed).  I proceeded to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his shorts – he hadn’t even zipped them up!  I then slid off both his shorts and his boxers.  He still had made absolutely no effort to stop any of this, by the way.  And then I started going down on him (yes, while he was on the phone with Bluto).  It was quite entertaining, actually.  He couldn’t hardly get out a complete thought and Bluto asked him what was wrong (I have a huge grin on my face right now).

Needless to say, he gave in – yet he warned me it wouldn’t last very long since I had been “playing with [him]” – yes, those were his actual words – for 10 minutes already.  Then once I got the condom, he just went straight to it!  I was like, “What?  No warm up for me?”  And he brought up the errands he needed to run again.  Anyways, he lasted longer than I expected, given his warning.

Then, as soon as I got on top of him, my nose started bleeding.  He happened to have a roll of toilet paper right there because of his allergies.  So…he ended up cumming while I had a wad of toilet paper sticking up/out of my nose…  One of the weirdest, most awkward experiences of my life – and you know how I feel about awkward!

Looking back, he took up just about as much time bitching about his errands leading up to sex as it took for us from start to finish.  The deal was:  if he had sex with me, I would go with him to run his errands.  We ended up going to a drive-up ATM to get his account balance and then to the grocery store, where he just got Fudge Rounds, Andoille sausage (apparently he’s making Jumbalaya for me sometime soon), and Gatorade.  Seriously, that was it for his errands.

Stepping back a bit to when we were debating having sex:  Gaston revealed to me that he doesn’t like kissing – he doesn’t dislike/hate it, but he doesn’t like it.  WHAT?!  I don’t even know how to verbalize my feelings about that right now.

•     •     •     •     •

I had an appointment with Angel Tuesday for the first time in a while (my shrink suggested I see him since I was under so much stress and experiencing so much anxiety).  I told him about my worries about school/finding a job/not having health insurance once I graduate and he went on about those for a while.  I mean, yes, I’m worried (at least, somewhat) about all of those things, but I realize at this point that all I can do is take them as they come.

Then, we got onto the topic of my love/dating life.  Here we go…

I told him about the whole Gaston situation and why he won’t make our relationship official.  Angel then asked me a few questions that I never saw coming.

From what you’ve told me about Gaston, your relationship with him reminds me a lot of your relationship with X.  I keep hearing more and more negatives.  Why are you still dealing with Gaston? What do you actually like about him?

Wow.  This threw me for a loop.  My immediate response:  “He’s nice; he’s…” and I went on.

Okay.  “Nice”.  When I was in a sorority and going through rush, we thought of “nice” as an adjective we only used to describe a girl that was either just okay or had northing great/memorable/outstanding about her.

Even now I see myself trying to block this out of my mind.

Then Angel asked me,

Why are you doing this?  How does it make you feel that he won’t make the relationship ‘official’?

Honestly, I know what I want:  a relationship (obviously), and I would (I think, at least) really enjoy one with Gaston.  BUT – I realize that I may be moving somewhere new and far away once I find a job:  so I’m hesitant to start a relationship just in time to move far, far away.

Am I just making excuses?  Just to cope with Gaston’s unwillingness to commit?

Angel suggested that I sit down with Gaston and talk about it – which I would love to do, but Gaston does continually remind me of how he only thinks about the “here and now” and doesn’t look into the future.  I just feel like that’s all I would get out of that conversation.

I also talked with Angel about X.  I’ve been thinking lately about getting together to talk to him (X) about working on becoming friends.  My intentions here are mainly so that I can work on moving on – not just for Gaston, but for me and the rest of my potential love life.

One night a couple of weeks ago or so, I was upset (and probably slightly drunk…yea, chances are pretty high) and going to bed.  All the things I wanted to say to X were flooding my mind.  In order to get them out of my mind and to ensure that I would remember them, I got out of bed and wrote X a letter addressing my feelings and concerns:

X –

To be perfectly honest, I feel insulted that the first thing you always ask me about it my cats.  I mean, even if you didn’t know me (which you kinda don’t anymore), you would at least ask me about the whole job thing.

You and what’s-her-face can get over the whole “me dating again” thing.  Because, just like I told you a while ago, it may be YEARS before I even date again – IF I ever even do.  You can have full confidence in the fact that I am over you; HOWEVER, I am not over what you did to me, and I may never be.

Please, at least give me the opportunity to be your friend – both of your friends.  That is the only way I can foresee myself getting on with my life.

BUT – if you prefer to remain strangers, please let me know.

I mean, I am jobless and have no idea how I can possibly get out of this town and out of your hair.  We can’t ignore this forever.

Elliott

Now, I know it comes across really bitchily, but I think I phrased it well.  I told Angel that I was thinking about meeting with X in person and handing him the letter so that I wouldn’t have to worry about forgetting to say anything and I would be there to let him know that I honestly didn’t mean it in a rude way, that I just didn’t know how to better phrase it.

Angel convinced me that it would make X defensive and that I shouldn’t hand him the letter, even if I’m right there.  Instead, he suggested that when I meet with X I bring the letter with me for reminder purposes, but that I should just talk through it with him in a less offensive manner.  This made sense – I think I was under the impression that it would be easier to do it the way I had originally planned.

•     •     •     •     •

Talk about timing, I ended up setting up a meeting with X later that afternoon for that very evening (still Tuesday) – dinner and drinks.

Surprisingly, “How are your cats?” wasn’t his first question for me, it was probably his sixth or so.  I jested,

I’m actually surprised that my cats weren’t the first thing you asked me about.

He smiled and did one of those mini-laughs.

Really?  I guess since I’ve gotten my dog it’s just something that I talk about more.

Okay, I’ll take that.

I then brought up the whole friend thing and, surprisingly, he told me that his girlfriend had told him that she would like to meet me as well.  Wow.  I had thought that she hated my guts.

All in all, the meeting was a success and we’ll just have to wait and see how things move along.

•     •     •     •     •

Once I got back from meeting with X, I joined Napoleon and Gaston for the end of American Idol.  The plan was to go out.  They both needed to shower and then Gaston asked me if I would iron his khakis and a button-down shirt for him.  Napoleon then barked out, “Yea, woman, aren’t you supposed to be domesticated?”  Whatever, it’s not like I was doing anything else wile they were showering.  BUT THEN – Gaston didn’t even end up wearing the shirt – and that’s what was such a pain in the ass to iron!  Oh well, I quickly got over it.

Then Rowdy came over and we all played Name-That-Song-and-Artist-Power-Hour.  We continued doing this while waiting on Snoopy.  Gaston had told him to come over and we would leave for downtown at 11pm.  Turns out, Snoopy thought he meant “come over” at 11pm.  Then, he was late even for that time because he decided to run through Taco Bell on his way over.  Then, we had to wait for him to eat once he got there!  Dear god, it ended up turning into Power-Two-and-a-Half-Hours!

Needless to say, I had gotten pretty drunk, so once we got to Polly’s I just drank water.

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…

Hopeless Uncertainty

(Originally written on April 13, 2009)

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With all of the stress from school, Gaston, and being a jobless Master’s student with no experience that will graduate in less than a month, I occasionally break down and have mini-freak-outs.  The last time was probably two weeks ago or so.  I called Martyr, crying, and she asked if I would like to receive a trip to visit Samantha, since I don’t exactly have the money to pay for it myself.  This was quite a comforting idea that brought the mini-freak-out to an end and got me excited about seeing Samantha for the first time in about a year.

I received a call from my darling Samantha this weekend only to find out that her nursing school in Maine starts May 11^th as opposed to starting in August (she had just found this out herself).  I graduate on May 9^th.  Definitely not enough time to see her once I graduate.  This was a disappointing bummer, especially when taking into account the following topic.

My most promising job lead right now is with a winery in northern California.  I love wine and I think I would really enjoy the job and the atmosphere.  However, I know ABSOLUTELY NO ONE out there.  My immediate family and Martyr’s family are all in the southeast and Beast’s family all live in Ohio.  I am really excited about the opportunity, but I am scared out of my mind of going so far away – that’s a difference of three time zones!

I would also probably move out there (this is all assuming I get a job offer, of course) and start working at the beginning of June.  My 23^rd birthday is on June 12^th, so I would immediately be spending my birthday somewhere I will only have lived one-and-a-half weeks and know no one.  Okay, I would have acquaintances from work by that point – but still!

In case you haven’t noticed, I overanalyze a lot and always think about how present decisions will affect my future.  This also causes me to (probably unnecessarily) worry a lot.

•     •     •     •     •

Yesterday (Easter), Gaston was supposed to have gone to the Master’s tournament after church with his grandmother (church with his grandmother, not the Master’s), but that ended up not being the case for whatever reason.  He got back in town around 5pm and called me when he pulled into the apartment parking lot, telling me that he “brought back a present for [me] from [south Georgia].”

Holy shit.  He openly avows (and always has) that he doesn’t do stuff like Valentine’s Day specialties/gifts/whatever or anniversary crap either.  No cards, candy, flowers, etc. – none of that romantic stuff.  For example, I bought him a rare hat for Christmas this year, receiving nothing in return.  I mean, he told me upfront about how he is, I guess I wasn’t sure if that applied to Christmas too.  Whatever.

So anyways, I came out of my apartment and down to his car (which was parked right outside of his apartment and where he was unloading his stuff).  He pulled out a small stem of three Azaleas and tucked it behind my ear, telling me,

All the women in my family wear Azaleas behind their ears on Easter – even my grandmother.  I love Azaleas; they’re my favorite flower.  My mom and sister brought these back from Augusta.

I practically melted.  That was so sweet and out of character for him.

Still won’t kiss me, though.

•     •     •     •     •

This morning, upon entering the classroom, I started feeling slightly sick.  I told Scarlet that if I suddenly ran out of class it would be because I was feeling funny.  Literally 30-45 seconds later, my nose starts bleeding.  FML.

True story.

Ha ha!  In case you aren’t familiar with that format, you need to check out the website www.fmylife.com.  I love indulging in its gloriousness!

Normal Everyday Life

(Originally written on April 4, 2009)

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The past few days have been pretty uneventful.  Yesterday I went to Polly’s for lunch with Martyr and, as usual, Yuengling was there.  After we ate, I decided to just hang out and I spent the rest of my day there looking for jobs (online).  I had Yuengling bring me home around 8:30pm or so.

“Why so early?”  You may ask.  The night before, Ursula, Flower-Child, and I went to Los Compadres and Teddy was spoiling me with Patron margaritas.  I pre-gamed before dinner with three beers over the course of probably two hours.  We were probably only at Los Compadres for three hours or so – during which I had three potent margaritas and a shot of tequila.  Needless to say, I got wasted.

So, I really didn’t feel like going out hardcore last night.

Once I got back, I remembered that Belle, another one of my neighbors, was going to just be chilling at the apartment.  Once I got back, I dropped off my stuff (purse, laptop, etc.), grabbed a glass of wine, and went downstairs to join her.  We sat on her front stoop for a bit while her ex-boyfriend smoked a cigar – which smelled fantastic, by the way.

They have a really weird relationship – which isn’t really even a relationship.  It’s odd.  They aren’t together, but they still do a lot of dating-like activities.  Belle tried to explain it to me a little bit last night when he stepped out for a phone call:  basically, she’s just not opposed to dating other people.  Yet, I don’t think she has dated anyone or even tried.  Oh well, whatever!

Anyways, I ended up chilling with them until midnight or so after we watched The Departed.

•     •     •     •     •

Ooh!  I completely forgot to mention it, but after the seminar last Monday, Scarlet and I were walking back to his car when there was this girl in front of us wearing a ridiculously short dress.  We both commented on it, of course – we can’t help ourselves sometimes.  Then I realized that it was Slutty McSlutterson!  I turned to him and blurted out, “Wait, is that Slutty McSlutterson?”  Yes – I actually referred to her by her code name, out loud, in public, right behind her…

Then, as we began to cross the street (she continued straight and we turned the corner), I called out “Slutty McSlutterson?”  (I actually used her real name that time).  She turned, still walking, and just said, “Oh, hi.  It’s nice to see you out!”  I’m not sure if she heard my earlier comment(s) (the s because she may have also heard us talking about how short her dress was), Scarlet insists that she didn’t, or if she was just in a rush, but it seemed as though she couldn’t get away fast enough.

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I haven’t spoken a word to Gaston since Wednesday night.  It’s kinda different because he’s in Miami right now visiting Tomboy, his best friend.  He’s accompanying her to her law school prom or whatever.  So I still have absolutely no idea where that whole situation stands.

Stepping Back

(Originally written on March 20, 2009)

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Looking back at my last post, I see that I have quite a bit of explaining to do.  I guess I thought I’d be able to write more at the bar.  Everyone left me to myself when I was studying notes, but that all seemed to go out the window once the laptop came out…  Where to start?

I think I’m first going to give you a better idea of who I am and what I like and do:

I love music, my favorite genre being classic rock.  Led Zeppelin is my favorite band and Jimmy Page is a god amongst men.  Other favorite bands in the genre include Pink Floyd, The Moody Blues, Derek and the Dominoes, Queen, The Yardbirds, The Beatles (of course), The Who, and Blue Öyster Cult.  So, naturally, I got Chip and Dale hooked on the good stuff when they started playing guitar!  I grew up playing the piano, so I also enjoy the more classical stuff.  I listen to everything from opera to pop to rap (I can’t help it – I’m a white girl who loves to dance…or try at least!).

Beast sells beer and wine for a living, and has done so ever since I was born – it’s safe to say that he is a wine connoisseur.  I cannot claim the same for myself, but I am most definitely a wino!  He got me started at a very young age:  there is a picture of me taken when I was only two years old sitting at the table with a tall-stemmed glass of Pinot Noir and a plate full of Pinot grapes.  It is utterly fantastic – I’ll see about getting it scanned into the computer next time I go home.  Anyways, my favorite red is Farnese’s Montepulcciano d’Abruzzo and my favorite white is Selbach’s Riesling Spätlese from the Piesporter Michelsberg region.

I am the proud mother of two cats:  Peabody and Lilly (no name/identity protection necessary).  Peabody is a handsome, large-and-in-charge Orange Tabby that will be four on September 20^th.  Peebs is the biggest sweetheart and a huge pushover.  However, he doesn’t care for being held and cuddling is hit-or-miss.  He also has retarded nipples:  the last pair is instead a group of three.  Lilly is a blue-eyed Tabby Lilac-Point Siamese that will be two on May 5^th.   She loves to play fetch and I fear that she will never out-grow the kitten troubles.  Even though she drives me crazy, she is very loving.  She likes to cuddle and lick my ears.  I think she has a superiority complex because she always wants to be high-up on my shoulders or on my chest, as opposed to in my lap or me holding her.

I don’t believe in awkward situations.  I think it’s all what you make of it.  When most people think of something as being awkward, it’s because they aren’t equipped with the social capabilities that enable them to know how to act when caught off-guard.

I am a perfectionist.  If I am going to do something, I always go in to it with all I have.  I think this trait can be attributed to me being a competitive gymnast growing up.  I was good, too – I won first place on the balance beam at state two years in a row.  It really taught me how to focus and pay attention to even the slightest of details.  I think my competitiveness is also rooted in my gymnastics background…

Even though I’m incredibly independent, I have a surprisingly traditional view of dating.  Now, I don’t expect guys to open my doors for me all the time or anything like that.  Mainly, I don’t want to be the breadwinner – I think that’s the guy’s role.  When Martyr became pregnant with Chip and Dale, Beast told her that he didn’t want her to work anymore, that he wanted her to stay home and take care of the kids.  I am the person who I am today because of that.  For me, though, IF I ever even have kids, I just want the comfort of knowing that’s an option.  I’m too much of a workaholic to completely give it up!

That’s a good start for now.  I’ll prepare some stories for the next post.

p.s.  Still no word from that company…  On the other hand, I have been contacted by a different company that is located in Boston!