Hey, white liar.

I can’t drink coffee this morning. This is a huge problem.

I got my teeth whitened yesterday and have to go 24-hours without eating or drinking anything dark [racist, much?]. So, I’m stuck at the office [yep, on Columbus Day] drinking white tea. Fuck this.

Anyway, I’ve been in the damn dumps all weekend. By hey, what else is new? I showed up at work Thursday, for a meeting in which they basically told us our company is declaring bankruptcy at the end of the year. Splendid. I left work, hooked up with Fratty, and went to the Melting Pot with Anne to stuff myself with meats and cheese.

Anne is going through a hard time, too—her fiance has two weeks to prove himself at work or else he gets canned. So both of us felt guilty for spending the money, but it is a treat we give ourself about every other month. So we get there, order the usual: Spinach Mushroom salad, Wisconsin Trio Cheese, steak and seafood plate, and the s’mores dessert.

I just proved Gizzy’s theory that all of our readers think we are huge. I weighed in at 124 at the dr’s office two weeks ago, so draw your own conclusions.

So the salads are great, and then the cheese comes. The Melting Pot prides itself on mixing everything right in front of you, so the waitress pours in the wine, a variety of cheese, and proceeds to beat it like she’s scrambling eggs for her ex-husband. It was real awkward. She tells us to enjoy.

Umm, she just mixed up a batch of cheese soup. Anne pulled up the fork and the cheese dripped off it, with the consistency of honey mustard dressing. Uh no. I have a horrid fear of soggy bread, I was not about to dip my cubes of rye in that shit. So the manager walks by and this conversation happens:

Anne: We don’t think our cheese is thick enough [takes the fork, shows him the drip].

Mgr: it’s supposed to be like that.

Anne: nnoooo. We’ve had it many times, and it’s never been like this.

Mgr: your waiters probably made it wrong before.

Anne: Well, we aren’t going to eat it.

Mgr: I can add more cheese, but it’s supposed to be the consistency of warm honey.

Anne: Honey is thick, add the cheese.

Mgr: ok, you had the Big Night Out cheese?

Anne: no, see? You don’t even know. It’s the trio.

What in fucking hell? I’m not a food snob, but shit, if the food I’m paying for isn’t up to par, then fucking fix it. I’ve waited tables, and guess what? The customer is always right. No one would’ve dipped their bread into that cheese broth. It was disgusting. And then you’re going to throw your very own staff under the bus and say they’ve made it wrong every time we’ve been there? Christ.

Anyway, the cheese was fixed and the rest of the meal was quite delish. Friday night was ultra-depressing, to say the least. I stayed home to clean my entire apartment, from top to bottom. Saturday, I ran errands all day—buying gifts for a baby shower I have to go to next Sunday [kill me]. While I was out, my phone was blowing up—lights, vibrating, sirens, the works. What was all the racket? This:

Lucky Lady,

Your anniversary with

Disgusting Trashy Cheating Bastard Ex

Is in: 7 days

Well, fucking hell. So it is. What would’ve been three years will be Saturday. Three years, wasted, of my precious life, and all optimism that I once had for love and marriage gone down the shitter. I’m shopping for other people’s success getting reminders of past love, while I’m sure he’s fucking every cunt in town. Live it up, you bastard.

Needless to say, I needed a pitcher of beer. So I met up with Anne, her fiance, and her dad Saturday night to watch a football game. Everything was going pretty well until I get this on my piece of shit phone:

Pageant Queen: WE’RE ENGAGED!!!!!!!

Fucking fuck fuck. It took everything I had not to slam my face into the wooden table and just drown myself in my 4th pint of beer. Later, when I was bitching to Gizzy about it, she told me we need to get over it and stop making a big deal out of it when people get engaged. I can say I’ll try, but honestly, there is no one left to get engaged. Seriously when The Ex gets engaged NO ONE tell me. Seriously. Do not, because I will kill myself.

Sunday, I got my teeth whitened, which was fine at first, then it hurt like a bitch for the remainder of the day. I tried to sleep it off, which resulted in a dream about McFaggot. In the dream, I was at a party and McFaggot showed up in a limo. He got out of the limo, wearing the tuxedo he had on when I met him. But when he saw I was there, he turned around and left.

Awesome.

I had to go to a writer’s meeting Sunday night, for a local magazine I work for. There, I saw this guy I’ve seen at the meetings. He is kind of cute, in a nerdy way, and I’m pretty sure we had a college class together or something, but I can’t figure it out. He flips burgers and writes for the magazine. No, really. And that’s what my life is now. Thinking about cute guys flipping burgers.

I drove home from that meeting listening to country music. And yes, I considered just driving off a cliff.

So, as much as I don’t want it to happen, I’m thinking I might need to meet 100 guys for the 100th post. But hey, it’s up to you. So if you haven’t voted yet, go do it! For the sake of my sanity.

I should sign off with something positive, right? Last night, I had a hot dream about ShyGuy. Seriously. I was on the beach and he came out of nowhere [there were even rays of sunshine behind him] and I tackled him. Right there in the sand. I was supposed to be on vacation with Gizzy, but she was late. When I called her, she was all, “I’ll be there tomorrow,” so there I was stuck at the beach, alone.

ShyGuy was all, Lucky, I’m not going to leave you here alone. Mmmmhmmm.

I’m no dream-reader, but I’m pretty sure I know what it means: we need more ShyGuy! Holla if ya hear me 😉

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14 thoughts on “Hey, white liar.

  1. Alexia says:

    Hollaaaa!
    I’ve been in bed for two days drinking coffee. I think we need to find a way to bring continents together. We should live in a blogging type mansion filled with all the cool people that blog. We could have screening tests for everyone that came through the front door. And a secret room with a huge map version of the fuck list (have you heard of the fuck list? If not, google it).

    How GOOD is your coffee going to taste tomorrow, hm? I’ll tell you: VERY GOOD.

  2. I’m so effing jelly of you right now! Thankfully, it’s nearing lunchtime and I won’t have to worry about my coffee anymore, but hells yeah it’s going to taste awesome tomorrow.

    I’m all about a blogging house with a giant map-fuck-list. Once Gizzy & I figure out a plan to make money from this thing, I’m totes there.

    -L

  3. justmarriedgirl says:

    Poor Lucky. I wish I could show you a video montage of my life when I was in my twenties: bad dates, horrible boyfriends, a string of terrible jobs, etc. At some points, it was just misery. But I swear to you, it does get better. I know it might not seem helpful, but I wish I didn’t worry so much or get so down so much about not meeting guys because it all worked out just fine. And it will for you–with the best guy! In fact, I feel lucky to have waited longer bc I would have made a mistake if I stuck w the boyfriends I had in my 20s. I hated when people told me that
    when I was single, but it is true. If I knew it then,
    I would have saved myself a lot of tears and
    agony.

    Hope your week turns out better. Treat yourself really well. You deserve it!!

    • Aww, thank you. You always have the best advice. And for that I apologize that I’m always on here bitching about my sub-par dating life…well, and employment life.

      I know things will look up, I just have to figure out what to do!

      -L

  4. eagle says:

    Melting Pot?? Is this what they call it in the states? In Switzerland its known as cheese fondue, you have chocolate fondue as well , way more decadent.

  5. jamesjanus says:

    I am sure it sounds as full of cheese as your Melting Pot Trio, but keep hope alive, love is always out there waiting to find you. I have led a life of bitter breakups and terrible misbehavior when it comes to love, but it might be the one thing I never have and never will give up on.

  6. Thanks for the advice. As much as I bitch about it, I hope I will never give up on love.

    -L

  7. Please enjoy this time of your life while you can. That way when you’re older and more settled into a relationship, career etc., you can look back and see what an amazing time it was for you. Let the dating take care of itself, in the mean time go places alone…the movies, museums, shopping. Appreciate the solitude, and the insight it brings, while you can. Because let me tell you, you’ll definitely appreciate it later when you’re picking up after your husband and kids after a hard day at work, the television is blaring in the background, and you have to figure out whether to make something for dinner or call in a pizza, so you can write that report that your boss wants by tomorrow.

  8. Dennis Hong says:

    I should sign off with something positive, right?

    Meh. Everyone’s allowed to have a shitty week. That’s what venting… er, blogging is for.

  9. Catherine says:

    LOVE LOVE LOVE the Melting Pot. What you order sounds almost like what I always get. Delic. Chef does not agree. He hates the Melting Pot (??). How is this possible? He also hates Anderson Cooper and recently asked me if I knew what Skype was. Red flags, people, red flags. LOL jk.

    “Three years, wasted, of my precious life, and all optimism that I once had for love and marriage gone down the shitter. ”

    Wow, you know I know how you feel. And trust me – later this week – I have a blog post coming up (very very emo and sad) that speaks to that. I think you’ll hear me!

    Hope you are feeling better. 🙂

  10. I am also not engaged.. I share your pain. I promise not to tell you when it happens (if it happens)…unless you’re already engaged.

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