I hope everyone is having a glorious Sunday and getting all their happy out because tomorrow is the worst day ever, Monday. Lets recap since my last post, last time on Gizzy’s life… We discovered the possibility that HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON might be gay, I found more reasons to dump guys who are already my ex boyfriends, and I toyed with the idea of becoming a lesbian.
Since then, not much has changed. I looked up some lesbian porn this afternoon whilst basking in the sun and seeing who I could pick up at the pool, the porn didn’t do much for me so I guess that’s out the window. However, I did go on a semi-date last night with HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON but he said something that was a deal breaker for me. But shiiiiiit… that’s never stopped me before. (I know. Ignore the red flags now and see where it gets me. Probably back at the pool looking at porn.)
Co-blogger Lucky advised me to text HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON Thursday night to try and make plans before he went home for the weekend. Well I am chicken-shit and didn’t do it, but I ran into him again on Friday and he asked what I was doing over the weekend. You’d think I would have learned my lesson the first time, plus I live by the book Why Men Love Bitches, that basically says if you do one thing out of the book and one thing only make sure guys think you have a life. And do I? Well of course not, I still reply with the biggest loser response and say that I’m doing nothing. But I couldn’t just leave it at nothing I had to elaborate that on that nothing and add that nothing literally means nothing because I don’t have cable until Monday. So I’ll be watching the grass grow out of my apartment window. HOTTIE couldn’t have scrambled away any faster, I’m surprised he didn’t whip out a big DENIED sticker and slap it on my forehead for the whole world to see. So I slinked away and started my loser weekend.
Imagine my surprise when Saturday evening I put down my thin mints long enough to see that I had a missed call from HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON (I know, it’s still blowing my mind how I missed the call when I sat on my ass all goddamned day.) Me being a stranger to actually receiving a phone call from a guy instead of a text went into panic mode about whether to call him back or not. I was sure he had butt-dialed me but I took a shot of captain mo and called him back anyway. Glad I did because he asked if I wanted to go get some ice cream with him. WELL DUH! So I put on my hottest I-just-threw-this-on-and-didn’t-try-on-everything-in-my-closet-because-you’re-sooooo-hot-and-I-HAVE-to-look-good looking outfit and he picked me up in his sportscar. Mmm.
When he picked me up he said there was a change of plans. My mind first went to that he was just going to take me straight to his bed, which was fine. And second when we drove past his apartment I thought he was taking me to a bar, which made me think ga-reat another toolbag who only wants to get me drunk. I was de-lighted when we rolled up at the putt-putt course. This isn’t your ordinary putt-putt course though. There is the shitty jank putt-putt course that is $1.50 for a round and then there’s the course that can’t even be classified as putt-putt because it’s mini-golf and very classy for the classiest of people, like myself and HOTTIE. The green isn’t that carpet that they have at most other putt-putt courses it’s actual grass. Most girls may have been turned off by the putt-putt, but I loved it and was silently humming the wedding march while we picked out our balls. Putt-putt is on my top 10 most fun things to do. Mainly because I’m really good and I can whoop everyone, except HOTTIE. I may have met my match.
We had a blasty-blast playing putt-putt and went on to get ice cream from this local ice cream place that has all of these romantic benches and tables outside to sit at (fade in: second dose of wedding march) and THIS is where he dropped the bomb on me. We were talking about sports we played in high school and he was telling me about how he was some stellar all-star baseball player his senior year and how he wished he would’ve graduated a year or two later because then he probably would’ve been able to play in college and I was getting so excited I could hardly keep my dress on. And as sure as I heard the words coming out of my mouth in that deep slow motion voice I knew it was going to be bad. I asked him what year he graduated high school. 2007. Which makes him, 21. And still makes me 25. If we were in our 30’s and were 4 years apart I would say the hell with it lets get it on. But he has been of legal drinking age for 3 months and it hurts my brain to think back to when I was 21. I don’t think he is any ordinary 21 year old though, he seems to be quite a bit more mature then what I remember the 21 year old guys to be nearly half a decade ago. (At this point I’ll tell myself anything.)
We finished up our ice cream and he asked if I wanted to watch a movie, I wanted to but I had to come home and figure out what I was going to do about this predicament. The way I see it, I could tell him that I’m 25 and see if he wants to still make out or I could keep my big mouth shut and see what happens until he finds out on his own. But I definitely couldn’t watch a movie, my brain was already mapping out the pro/con list I was going to run home and make about whether I should keep talking to him or not. So I made up some lie about having to get up early in the morning to drive home for Father’s day. So we had that awkward do we kiss do we not kiss moment, he played it out very nicely though. I was impressed, he broke the weirdness by hugging me and kissing my cheek and saying he would save the first kiss for somewhere better than the car. I wanted to give him a round of a applause for his performance but I figured I’d let him swoon me for a while and think he’s got me wrapped around his little finger. Little does he know I would’ve parked my car and jumped in his bed when I saw him last week.
When I got home I realized that sure enough as my body is getting older but my brain is staying at 21 and I’m afraid that I am forever doomed to only be attracted to 21 year old guys. I thought back and realized that I have never dated, made out with, or hooked up with any guy who was over 21 when I met him. When I started dating douchearoo he was 21, and the same with snoop-linus, and before them I was too young to meet 21 year olds because I was too busy hanging with the kids at the frats. What am I going to do when I have a son and all of his friends turn 21?