So I had a hot date this weekend. Don’t get too excited, it was with myself. You know how people always say, “How can you expect someone to love you when you don’t love yourself?” I’ve become a master at loving myself and still no love from the fellas. But, I’m fine with that. Honestly, if I had my pick of going out to dinner and making meaningless conversation with a stranger with false hopes of him being “the one” or sitting on my ass watching chick flicks and ordering in wings, cheese fries, and beer – I’d pick the later.
Is this what biter sounds like? I think so. I do believe I have good reason to be biter though. I realized this past week that it has been almost 14 months since I’ve gotten laid. That’s right, one-four. There are people out there who have gotten pregnant twice since the last time I had sex. To tell you the truth, I didn’t even notice and I certainly didn’t miss it, especially not the awkwardness afterward and the whole “do you have a condom” convo, and I DEFINITELY didn’t miss the guy not knowing what to do with my lady parts. This might be more of me becoming a-sexual talk than biter. I think I heard once a-sexual people are serial killers? That might be a lie, either way still scary.
I guess I could blame my “revirginization” (as we’ll call it) on being busy, starting a new job, and all that jazz. But I think it’s mostly that I haven’t met a guy since Hottie that I’ve had a romantic connection with and that’s a little scary too, almost more scary than a-sexual serial killers. Because if I’m 26 and can’t find a guy that I find interesting enough to hop in the sack with, how much worse is it going to get the older I get and the further their hairlines recede? I’m dong my part here boys, I’ll keep my goodies looking perky if you buy Rogaine in bulk.
Anyway, enough of me feeling sorry for myself because my vagina is literally contemplating retirement and on to some real news. I start boot camp this morning. That’s in oh… 6 hours. It’s going to be rough I won’t lie. I was just telling Lucky about my instructor, he’s an ex-marine with a soul patch. Ex-marine – ok… soul patch – not ok. I think the work out should be decent, but it will be hard to look at his face.
This boot camp is 4 weeks long and 4 times a week. My plan is to do some cardio on the days I’m not in class and then kill myself at the end of the 4 weeks. Seriously though, I’m getting older, if I let my body go I have no chance at getting a hot husband who will inevitably cheat on me with his sexretary when my eye lids (and boobs) start to sag. So when that happens I need to at least be able to look back at pictures of myself when I was looking my best, fingers crossed that will be after this class and not 10 years ago when I was in high school.
In other news, if anyone was following my great roommate debacle of last week I have decided to surrender my room to crack-head Tim so that I can buy a new car when mine decides to kick the bucket (which should be any day now), and then live out of it. Really though, I don’t plan to be in this apartment much longer whether it’s in a room with doors or my dungeon. I don’t fancy living with boys. So that’s that. I came to the conclusion this weekend while I was sitting in serenity with all the boys being gone for the weekend that no matter where I sleep in this apartment I will NEVER bring a guy I am half-way interested in here so I may as well get cheap rent out of the situation.
I feel like after going on a really awesome date with a guy and him dropping me off and me being like, “Oh do you want to come in” just can not and will not ever happen as long as I am under this roof for the following reasons:
1. Introducing him to the roommates. – Imagine having 3 older brothers and bringing your new boyfriend home to meet them, this is exactly how it would be for me, only my older brothers would be drunk and make jokes about my boobs. Not attractive.
2. Disintegrating furniture – These guys have no class, our furniture is literally falling apart but I’m not shelling out the bucks to buy new so they can tear that up too, no way no how, and no way no how would I let a guy I like see that I live in such a hole.
3. The bathroom – No matter how much I clean, these guys get their hair everywhere, and there’s always toothpaste in the sink, ALWAYS. Just gross, no respectable man that I date will be like this and he also shouldn’t have to be subjected to seeing disgusting men in their habitat.
4. The farts – With all 3 boys present in 1 room it smells like farts, whether they are farting or not they just as a whole stink like farts. I can’t stand it, so no guy I date will be able to stand it either.
So there you have it, a few of the reasons why I can’t date until I move out of this crap hole. As if I needed to convince any of you, I’m sure you’re all sitting there thinking Umm helloooo Miss Obvious, how about the fact that you live in a dungeon with no door for a reason???!!! Touche friends, touche.