Tag Archives: personals

Paging Dr. Love, not Gene Simmons

As you all know my love life has been pretty meh the past few months.  I got my hopes up with Little Married Mikey and since then there have really been no prospects on the forefront of dating.  You might recall that last week when I had my lunch with Corned Beef I mentioned that she took me to the young hot doctor hot spot.  I didn’t elaborate on this at the time because it took me a few days to figure out what I was going to do with this new wonderful insight.  Well this weekend I saw the light.

I have this brilliant new plan to marry a doctor, and I’m dragging Lucky along with me.  We all know that Lucky is unsure what her situation with her job will be in the coming months so I have practically given her the rights to my first born if she will move to my city so we can frolick arm and arm in the city streets together.

 While I was eating with Corned Beef I noticed several doctors under the age of 30 and I would be lying if I said a few of them didn’t notice me as well.  After all, my place of work isn’t necessarily known for employing attractive people as much as it is smart people, so it is rare to see someone who is even semi-attractive let alone physically fit, not that I am either of these but you know when there’s not much to choose from the ugly duckling starts to look a lot less ugly.  So I decided that I’m going to make the most of this hot doctor lunch spot and find me a doctor husband.  That’s right.  And I’m going to find Lucky one while I’m at it.  

Throughout the next few weeks I plan to go to the lunch spot at various times throughout the day to determine when the pickins are best.  Once I determine that time I will make that my new lunch hour.  I’ll sit at the same table at the same time every day.  Hopefully I will see the same hot doctors and hopefully they will see me too.  It’s inevitable that one day one of us will strike up a conversation and we’ll fall in love over a chicken salad sandwich and iced tea.  And the rest will be history, I can hear the wedding march already.  Lucky told me that Patti Stangler encourages this type of behavior so it must work.  

Lucky will get drug into this brilliant plan when Doctor Love and I get to know each other a little better and I feel comfortable enough to host a find-Lucky-a-hot doctor-too-party with 25 of Doctor Love’s most eligible bachelor doctor friends for her to choose from.  See: This is NOT a set up as much as it is like the bachelor.  There will be half hearts for Lucky to give out at the end of the dinner and if they get a half heart they get a 1 on 1 date and so on, then Lucky will find the hot doctor whose half heart matches her half heart and they will fall in love.  Then we can both marry hot doctors and be housewives and go shopping downtown all day and hire nanny’s to watch the brats.  We’ll walk down the street petting our furs while smoking out of quellazaires and litter just because we can.  And it will be awesome. 

I even ran this whole plan past my mom this past weekend.  Like, “Who’s ready to be the doctors mother in law!!?? YOU ARE!!!” Before I could even finish my new daily lunch schedule she blurted out, “You HAVE to go at the same time everyday!!! This will work!!!” As every father dreams of their son being a scientist, astronaut, or doctor; every mother dreams of her daughter marrying a scientist, astronaut, or doctor.  Why mother, it would be my pleasure to make your dreams come true.  I feel this is an opportunity to really make my family proud.  And by god, you just watch, I’m gonna do it!!!  And so is Lucky!!!!

Day 1 begins Monday.  I will report my findings WITH photo back up.  And thanks to the book Lucky sent me last week (that was also on her Chic Lit list) Straight Up And Dirty, I now know that I need to date at least 3 doctors at once so that I know if I really do like any of them and I’m not just settling for what is there.  

I think my 3 new doctor boyfriends are going to be quite impressed when they hear about my upcoming 17K bike ride.  It’s hard to hold down a job, be a gold digger, and ride a bike all at the same time. I’m exhausted already.  I’ve also started looking up soul food recipes.  Just a few – 1 for some good salisbury steak with taters, a few pies… JUST enough to make them think I am good wife material then once the ring is on my finger it’s back to tv dinners and chinese take out.

Really though… SWF seeks MD.

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Eff

Yesterday was great.  As always.  Not.  I have a 20-30 minute commute to work everyday.  I’m generally always late for everything so I leave my house about 10 minutes before I have to be there.  However, the past few weeks all these goddamned honkeys around here have been getting in car accidents every morning.  So I show up at work 30 minutes late huffing and puffing about, “WHY CAN’T THE COPS PULL THE CARS OVER TO THE SIDE OF THE ROAD AND TAKE CARE OF BUSINESS?! WHYYYYYYYY IS IT NECESSARY TO TAKE UP 3 LANES OF TRAFFIC TO FILL OUT A REPORT ON A FENDER BENDER??????!!!!!!!!  GODDDDD THE GOVERNMENT!!!”  And my co-worker/wretched whore boss has a little snort about it and tells me I should find a new way to work before it’s me in the fender better.  Ha.  Funny,  you whore.

So anywho, that happened and before the 10 o’clock hour rolled around I had gotten into an argument with an overweight, half retarded, half handicapped, senior.  Or I mean a woman I have work relations with daily.  I hate her.  She can’t do her job, so when she fucks shit up I call her and tell her and she has a problem with that.  Me screaming rape throughout it all doesn’t help the situation, but it lets her know I’m serious that she needs to get her shit together.  OR REPERCUSSIONS WILL BE HAD!

Then, my dad decided he wanted KFC for lunch and because I’m everyone’s bitch I had to go get it.  I didn’t even use his money to pay for mine, after I waited for 25 minutes on chicken and didn’t even get any biscuits.  I know, if I could slap myself I would.  I don’t mind doing things for my dad, he’s rather entertaining so I take it as an even swap.  I deliver him delicious chicken and in return I get to see my stepmom do impressions of him after I call to ask stupid questions, like where I can buy motor oil.

One of the most entertaining stories about my dad is when he took Lucky and I to Panama City Beach, Florida our sophomore year of college, where he got drunk and accused us of conspiring against him to hang out with boys.

At the time it wasn’t all that funny, and my dad still beats himself up about it, but I think it’s absolutely hilarious.  All week Lucky and I kept seeing these tiny crabs on the beach so of course after a few bottles of wine and some good dinner one night we decide to gear up with our flashlights and our buckets (that conveniently came from our sand castle kits, my stepmom truly is one of the only people who understands us and our level of maturity) and head out to the beach.

Well whatta ya know, before we even got to the beach we saw a little crab in the bottom of the baby pool.  So we caught it.  Job well done.  We decided it would be a good idea to still go fuck around on the beach so we did and met some guys, one that oddly went tot he same University as Lucky.  So we sat and talked with them for a while and the next thing we know here comes my dad, assuming he was probably pissed I immediately start introducing the guys to him and telling him that one of them goes to Lucky’s school and they’re being all polite and jumping up to shake his hand.  My dad doesn’t say a word, dumps our crab out of our bucket, drops the bucket on the ground, turns around, and walks back to the hotel.  Jig is up.

Lucky and I slummed back into our room where my dad went off thinking that the whole week we had planned a conspiracy against him to meet up with these guys and the guys put the crab in the pool so we didn’t have to go searching for one and could come back and be all, HEY DAD LOOK WE FOUND A CRAB! And we could go and have some sand sex with these guys or something and no one would suspect a thing.  I mean, in retrospect that’s a pretty good plan and it would’ve worked on my mom.  But, I would never try to pull a fast one on my dad.  He is usually pretty cool so I was all YO DAD IF WE WANTED TO HANG OUT WITH THOSE GUYS WE WOULD’VE JUST TOLD YOU.  Stepmom got into it, I told my dad Lucky and I were flying home in the morning and he could take his vacation and suck it.  Of course he came around and realized that maybe a crab really did crawl into the pool because, DUH crabs like water.  So he apologized to Lucky and I and all was good in the hood.

We had a good rest of the vacation, but of course we were banned from the beach without supervision for the rest of the week.  We got my dad back by making him buy us a nice crab dinner and drawing a dung beetle on his arm while he was passed out on the balcony.  OH college.

Anyway,  neither Lucky or myself have had any love dramas lately.  So sad.  BUT, I’ll have you all know that the date with Betty’s army/art teacher friend is officially set for next Thursday.  I might puke though.  I already kind of want to cancel. Don’t freak out, this is what I do.  Actually I probably will cancel a couple of times.  It just happens.  I have to build myself up and blow him off so many times that I feel guilty and force myself to go on the date.  Then we’ll have a wonderful time and he’ll be my boyfriend and future first husband or some shit.  It’s all very romantic in a Runaway Bride type of way.  It’s a double date though, which will make it about a million times more awkward because Betty will ask inappropriate things and tell inappropriate stories, like how on my 21st birthday I had 26 shots, autographed peoples clothing items without their knowledge or permission, then came back to our sorority house and coughed up a cheesestick whole and hid it under our futon, then passed out sitting up in my computer chair in my bra and underwear.  That’s always a favorite of hers.  Lets just hope she doesn’t bring the pictures.  I think I made her destroy them, but I can’t remember for sure.  I’m definitely canceling.

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