Tag Archives: writing

5. What are your 5 biggest fears and why?

LUCKY
    1. Living/dying alone. I think you all probably know this one. And I’m not really sure WHY I’m terrified of living the rest of my life, and ultimately dying, alone…I guess it’s human nature to want to couple up and be together, right?
    2. Masks. This is why I hate Halloween. This isn’t just a, “Oh I don’t like masks” thing. I’m terrified of them. Like it’s not even funny to me. According to my mom, I’ve hated them always, and I think it’s just a constant fear of not knowing who people truly are.
    3. Not reaching my dreams. Like most people, my dreams have changed a lot over the years. I’m still not sure what exactly they are. But I know I want to stay writing and stay creating and I hope one day, doing that will pay my bills, in  a way that I’m never feeling like I have to “work.”
    4. Being bitter. I know I’ve been hurt a lot in my past and I’m still working to move past it. But if I have to be single forever, I at least hope I can be a pleasant, happy person to be around and not bitter and jealous.
    5. Complacency. This kind of goes with #3, but a lot of my coworkers have just let their brains turn to mush and I’m terrified of that. I’m always trying to stay on top of things and stay creative so that I’m never complacent.

GIZZY

Losing my parents, dying, going blind, spiders, and snakes. BOOM next question. Oh right, I have to tell you why. Alright here goes…

1. Losing my parents. I’ve heard people use this exact phrase on Dr. Phil and Opera about a million times, but it really sums it up.  I don’t know how to live in a World where my parents don’t. I know one day I’ll have to do it (unless I go first, eck!) but it really brings me to tears even thinking about it.

2. Dying. I mean, who isn’t afraid of dying? Except Jesus. You know I don’t want to get all philosophical and spiritual here, but I get super weirded out when I think about how life will go on without me and what really happens to you/your spirit when you die. Alright, enough about death. Damn.

3. Going blind.  I have horrible eyesight and I am honestly terrified that one day I will go completely blind.  I couldn’t imagine not being able to see the people I love, watch tv (of course), and see all the beautiful things in the world.

4. Spiders. Okay, so once when I was in high school I woke up in the middle of the night to a gust of wind over my face.  I was thinking I needed to close my window or shut my ceiling fan off, but when I opened my eyes there was a gigantic spider hanging over my face. I still have nightmares about this and to this day when I see a spider I cry like a baby.

5. Snakes. I think it’s because they hide and they don’t blink, but they fucking creep me out. I’ve done stupid things to try and conquer this fear. Like this (side note: at the time I was like “I’M BRITNEY BITCH!” that was the only way I could talk myself into doing this):

photo-2

britney

(P.S. Mines bigger.)

But yes, that is a giant python around my neck. I should have been high off my ass when I did that, but I wasn’t, and I still can’t believe I actually did it.  However, take note that I am standing all awkward and refused to actually touch it, somehow that made it ok but didn’t help with my fear at all.

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Why I am a quitter.

Earlier this week, I quit my job at the magazine.

I know I’ve mentioned before problems that I’ve been having with the magazine, but just for shit’s sake, I’ll give you a little recap.

Things really got hairy this year. At the end of last year, you might remember that I was really excited when our editor, Jeremy, told me they were going to create a food section and asked me if I wanted to be a part of the meetings when they created it.

Yes, yes, yes!

But when the new year rolled around, the editors decided they would cancel the writers’ meetings because I was the only person showing up. While I was happy that I didn’t have to leave work to attend a lame meeting, they didn’t set up any kind of replacement for pitching stories.

So for weeks I was emailing the editors my story pitches and was never getting any response back…so I went weeks without any assignments, which also means weeks with no pay.

When I finally emailed begging for an assignment, they asked me if I’d be interested in brainstorming for an article on online dating. I said sure, especially because I was (and still am) obsessed with CATFISH!

I started brainstorming, and made a post on my Facebook page, asking if anyone had any experience in online dating, the good, the bad, and the ugly. I got 4 good leads, and sent the editor an email explaining them and asking if I should pursue them.

Jeremy told me they were great ideas, but I wasn’t allowed to interview my friends, so he would assign another writer to my story.

I didn’t reply. I knew another writer wasn’t going to come through. Plus, a story about online dating wasn’t necessarily anything cutting edge. Online dating profiles are private information, so unless the story is on someone like Manti Teo, you have to ask people you know about their experiences.

A few days later, Jeremy sent me an email asking me how the online dating story was coming along? I told him it wasn’t coming at all since he said I couldn’t interview my friends.

He emailed me back apologizing for the confusion, but saying he thought a story with snippets from online dating profiles would be cool.

Excuse me? You just told me I couldn’t interview my friends because of journalistic integrity and you want to swipe peoples’ online dating profiles to get a laugh?

I didn’t reply to that and in the midst of all this, I get an email he sent to the whole staff, announcing the new food editor—some guy I’d never heard of. Thanks, thanks a lot.

***TO BE CONTINUED…***

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I told ya, baby… I’m a rockstar

Well, the big photo shoot was on Saturday.  It actually went really well for the most part.  I did all my prep before hand – tan, teeth whitening, mani/pedi, facemask… you get it.  Which was probably too much prep because it didn’t seem like any of the other girls did things like that, but it’s whatever.  I think it was good regardless for me to put some time and money into myself, because it made me feel better.

So I show up at the studio and as I’m walking around to the front of the building I see a photographer in the ally taking pictures of a girl sitting on a dumpster.  Oh, so that’s how this is going to be? I walked up and met the casting agent who cast me for the gig and about that time another girl walked up so we went in to get our hair/makeup done and met the rest of the girls.

Let me elaborate on who I was working with here… There was the heavy set improv actress/comedian, the quiet shy stood in the corner and didn’t say 5 words asian girl, the bubbly fun ditzy blonde, the older wise mom type who only spoke when she had something deep and heartfelt to say, the crazy haired urban token wild black girl, the sweet as pie blonde, the gorgeous REAL actress who is on tv, and me, whatever I am, “the new comer”.  

I walked in with an attitude of, “Okay, I can do this.  I’m stepping out of my comfort zone.  I don’t know ANYONE and instead of being recluse and shy I’m going to break out and make some new friends.”

So as soon as I walked in the door I told everyone how me and “sweet as pie blonde” accidently went into the wrong door and nearly got attacked by a giant vicious dog.  Everyone looked at me, didn’t say a word, and then went back to what they were doing.  Oooook, then.

As more people showed up the mood lightened, but sweet as pie and I clung to each other for the first half hour sharing our stories of how we came across the agency and what we wanted to gain from it.  She had been married for 8 years, was in her early 30’s and needed a hobby to get away from her husband and 3 kids every now and then.  The other thing I learned was that I was the only person in the group who is single.  As per usual.

Eventually, I got my hair done and it looked AWESOME.  It was like wavy/curly and beautiful. The make up? Not so much.  I didn’t have a chance to look at it before I had to go get my first round of pictures so I honestly had no idea how it looked, I just knew that the makeup artist layer caked it on.  The thing is, I’ve had my makeup professionally done a good amount of times and not once has anyone been able to do it where I thought it looked good, so I don’t know why I expected this time to be different.  I don’t know if it’s because I typically don’t wear much makeup or what, but because of my dark hair and eyes everyone takes it upon themselves to put the darkest colors ever on my face and those colors just flat out don’t look good on me.

So I went down to the ally to get my first round of photos taken.  When I went to change into the second outfit and looked in the mirror I nearly pooped myself.  The make up was AWFUL.  I was expecting the dark smokey eyes, which don’t look that good on me to begin with, but I knew she was going to do it.  She also put brown lipstick on me.  I just don’t know what would possess someone to do that?  Brown lipstick doesn’t look good on anyone.

Lucky said it best, “They put brown lipstick in samples because no one buys that shit” EXACTLY!

Honestly it looked like I had been down in the alley munching on a big turd.  Really.  So I wiped it off for the second round of pictures and put my pink lipgloss on, which looked better but brown lipstick is hard to get off, so I had turd colored residue on my lips for the rest of the shoot.  I am just still appalled at the lip color choice.  Ick!

Lucky suggested that maybe she was trying to make me look older, which is a good guess because I was the youngest one there, but I just don’t know.  Gross.

Anyway, once I felt like I looked like a human we went on to the beach to do the group shots.  It was pretty chilly and windy, but I think the beach pics will be good regardless.  They did have us rolling around in the sand, and I’m pretty sure there was a funeral going on about 50 feet away, but whatta ya do?

All in all it was a really good experience and I’m glad I did it.  The girl who does the casting was full of good info.  She’s one of those people that speaks what’s on her mind and 99% of the time it’s something hilarious.  She’s worked a lot in Hollywood and has been in a lot of movies and was telling us that she can walk into a room and tell everyone who they’d play in a movie.  I was the love interest/girl next door/secret geeky star wars fan , the wise mom was the smart always wins lawyer, the impromptu actress was the witty barista, the quiet asian was the secret serial killer, sweet as pie was the over emotional too involved mother… and she gave us all a part to play in our shoot too and even offered to let us use her name in the biz, because “she knows everyone”.

What really got me going was while we had a little bit of down time the actual tv actress was yammering on about all of the gossip with the other actors and actresses on the show that she’s on, which I thought was HIGH-larious.  If it were me, I probably wouldn’t have been saying that stuff in a room full of strangers, but being on the receiving end it was pretty exciting.  That is until she whipped around and asked me, “So what do you do? Are you an actress?” To which I had to hide my face and shame at all the other people who actually are actresses and make a living doing it and say, “No, I’m an accountant…”

All in all, it was a good time, I met some nice people, and got my foot in the door doing something that’s 1 million times better than sitting behind a desk with a calculator all day.  SUCCESS!

 

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News! News! I have big news!

Ok so my news isn’t that big.  Ok it is, to me.  Remember a few weeks ago when I was bitching and moaning about my boring going no where accounting job and how I wanted to do something cool in the entertainment industry so I registered with a bunch of casting company’s?! WELL!!! After expressing interest in a few different commercials/movies and hearing nothing in return, I finally got cast in something!

That’s the exciting part, the not so exciting part (for Just Married Girl at least, & OMG there’s an episode of Friends on right now about Sweater Vests – it IS a sign) is that I don’t know if I’ll be able to do the Sweater Vest hang out tonight.  I’m getting ahead of myself… 

So I’m sitting at work screening calls from one of the surgeon’s I work for because someone (not me) may have lost $80,000 of her “spending” money by being a ‘tard.  Not lost as in dropped it on the street, lost it as in gave it to another institution by accident and now they’re saying they’re not giving it back (or that “it would be virtually impossible to give the money back”) so anyway, she’s all up my ass trying to get me to help her fix it because the team she assembled to do these things for her are idiots (obvi) so I contacted everyone I could 10 times told them the situation and was sitting pretty waiting for a response telling me it had been magically fixed while she called me every 5 minutes to see if there was an update when my cell phone started blowing up… it was an email from a casting agency!

The email basically said I had been cast as a model for a photo shoot on Saturday.  We’d be modeling local designers dresses pretending we’re at a party and the photos will be used as promotions for the designers and the studio.  They dress us, do our hair and makeup, and we get copies of the pictures and a some monaayy to go along with it.  I’m not going to quit my day job over it, but I’m pretty freaking excited!!!

When I told Anth about it he made fun of me, go figure.  Saying if I see any Victoria’s Secret models to give them his number.  HA! Then asked if he could come, then I told him about how the Brit wouldn’t stop texting me and his response was, “Is it because you told him you’re a model now?”  But, just for ANTH’s information… at this time last year my only job was modeling and it (barely) paid the bills, so Victoria’s Secret model that!  He’s obviously upset because I’m not coming to watch his marathon Saturday morning.  Whatever.

So anyway, my call time isn’t until Saturday at 2pm but I feel like I have to do a lot before I go.  Like I feel like I need to go get a spray tan so I don’t look dead, and work out for 5 hours before I go to the shoot so I look skinny.   And get a mani/pedi in case my hands or feet are in the shot.  What I wouldn’t give to be 22 again…. back then I always felt good about how I looked and I would’ve rolled out of bed after a night of partying and showed up at the shoot.  Now?  I’m canceling all my plans for the 4 days surrounding the shoot so I can make sure everything is perfect.  I don’t know, I guess my livelihood is at stake so I’m freaking out about it.  But, I haven’t told Dina that I won’t be able to make it out yet tonight because I’m hoping they’ll switch it to Saturday night and I can go out all glammed up from the photo shoot and find a husband/rekindle my half romance with Sweater Vest.  We’ll see how it goes…

Just to give everyone a Lucky update: She said the smudging went well and her fat cat loves the new apartment!  I hope it’s making all her dreams come true!

Ok… where’s cynical Gizzy? 1 good thing happened and all my cynical world hating aspirations went out the door.

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Sweater Vest

It’s here! The long awaited story of Sweater Vest! I’m sure you guys are all on the edge of your seats in anticipation…

The year was 2007, also known as the year I got dumped by Douchearoo for no good reason.  School was in full swing and I was out with Dina one night drowning my sorrows in a vat of vodka tonics.  I’m standing at the bar sobbing when her friend who I knew of but had never officially met walks up, and that friend’s name is Sweater Vest.

We all chatted for a few, I told him, much like I told everyone in the fall of 2007, my sob story about Douchearoo and how I was heartbroken.  He reacted the same way most strangers would/did, bought me a shot and gave me a pat on the back, I said I needed to go home and cry so I left.  

Not 1 hour later I got a text from a number I didn’t know… “Hey this is Dina’s friend Sweater Vest (not yet called Sweater Vest), you should come back to the bar and hang out with me!” Or something of those sorts.  I didn’t reply until the next day and I don’t really remember how it happened…. but we started dating.

He was a good on paper guy, he was going to be an aeronautical engineer (and is one now), he didn’t live close to the bars, his ex-girlfriend was 2 hours away, and he was really, really, nice.

One of the first times I did meet him out at the good ol college bar he walked in and I spotted him from across the bar, I hid under the table because he was wearing a sweater vest.  At a bar.  He eventually found me and forced me to take this photo:

I mean I don’t know.  Maybe it’s not that bad and I was just looking for things to find wrong with him.  But every time I saw him after that he wore sweater vests just to bug me, hence the name, Sweater Vest.  The funny part is that Lucky and I actually called him Sweater Vest when we talked about him, I’m not even sure she knows his actual name.

Anyway, we casually dated for a few months until Douchearoo decided he’d take me back (I’m embarrassed just saying this).  I was out with the D-Roo one night when Sweater Vest approached and was all, “Gizzy, what are you doing? He’s a DOUCHE! Just walk away from him and come hang out with me.”  Then I went off on the poor guy, basically saying he didn’t know me and just needed to step off, I loved Douchearoo and I was going to do what I wanted and he needed to know his role and get out of my business.  

We didn’t talk for a good year after that.  After Douchearoo and I were long over and I was on to Bi-Polar Ex I finally saw Sweater Vest out.  Obviously I was embarrassed about how I had acted a year prior so I just ran passed him, said “Hi how are you?” And went on my merry little way.  Sweater Vest has made it a point to tell me Happy Birthday every year since then and I’m pretty much the biggest bitch in the world.

I found out that after I told him off he got back together with his ex that lived 2 hours away.  Then they moved to Miami together.  THEN, he started texting me again last Christmas to see how I was doing and alas a few months ago I found out he just moved to The Big City.  Now, he’s all on Dina telling her to set something up so we can all hang out.   So that’s supposed to go down on Friday, everyone get excited!

I mean, yeah, if I was a smart girl I would put the fact that I’m not that attracted to him aside and date marry him.  He is a cute guy, but he’s not my type (by that I mean he’s not a raging Douche, obvi that’s what I like), and doesn’t get me going like that… if ya know what I mean.  Because clearly the guy would treat me like a queen since he’s still the nicest guy ever to me after I treated him like shit.  But I just can’t make myself do it.  I’ll hang out with him and I might even throw him a drunken make out or pity date him for a few months again.  But I won’t like it!

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11 weeks and 11 pounds

This week has been a real whirlwind for me, first because of all the unexpected contact with guys from my past over the weekend.  Then, as soon as I got to work yesterday I had a missed voicemail from my stepmom, saying my dad was in the hospital.  She didn’t leave much detail, only saying that he was bitten by a snake twice, he was ok, but would be in the hospital over night.

So I started to freak out and basically got nothing done at work yesterday.  It took me forever to get ahold of them and when I finally did they were just kind of ho hum about it.  Apparently my dad was with my grandpa at his country cabin and my dad was mulling around in a wood pile and when he pulled his hand out and it was gushing blood, swollen, and had 4 fang marks where the blood was coming from.  My grandpa had some kind of venom extraction do-hickey at his cabin so they tried that, but it didn’t work so they took my dad to the hospital where his motor skills were becoming slow and he was having trouble breathing… the works.

He didn’t see what kind of snake bit him, but they could tell from the side effects that it was venomous. He is ok, he gets to go home in the late morning and I still hate snakes.  I mean really… could anything else bad happen with snakes? Oh right, I forgot to mention that over the weekend when Betty was visiting she wanted to make sure the snake was in the cage and  we discovered that in fact it is not and Doogie has yet to inform anyone, but took the liberty of shutting off the heat lamp to save some energy and a few bucks.

So I told Anth that because of what happened to my dad it’s totally justifiable that I murder Doogie’s snake if it’s ever found…. and he told me that I need to reevaluate what is a big deal and what isn’t.  I mean…. my dad being in the hospital is a big deal, fucking asshole.  He claimed that me hating Doogie’s snake wasn’t a big deal because it’s a boa and it can’t do anything to me.  But, the simple fact that I could wake up in the middle of the night to that thing trying to choke me out because Doogie is so careless with it is plenty of reason to be afraid of it and want it dead.  I stand by my opinion – Anth’s an asshole!

Anyway… exactly 11 weeks from today I leave for Hawaii!! And that means I am getting down to the diet crunch time.  I’ve been slack assing on the working out because I’ve been super stressed at work, but I made the decision to make myself work out every day for the next 11 weeks and then after that I can go back to being fat.

So, if anyone wants to join my weight loss crusade I’ve done some research and here’s how it’s going down.  3500 calories = 1 pound.  But, you don’t lose a pound just by cutting 3500 calories out of your diet… it has to be a 3500 calorie deficit.  So you start with your resting (or basal) metabolic rate… I’m going with 1200 calories per day, but here’s a link to find yours in case you aren’t a 26 year old, 120 pound, 5 foot 3, female.

So every day my base calorie intake is 1200 calories, anything over is weight gain and anything under is weight loss.  To lose 1 pound a week I need to either burn 500 calories a day by exercising or only eat 700 calories.  So I’m going to need some ideas from everyone on low calorie foods that I can eat a lot of because only lazy days when I don’t want to work out I’m going to need some tasty ideas!

I ordered this Victoria’s Secret seashell/mermaid bikini

I was pretty disappointed last night when I tried it on and it didn’t look the same on me as it does this girl… so, operation lose a pound a week from now until I leave for Hawaii is in full force.  

Any dieting tips/staying strong advice/words of wisdom anyone has…give it to me!

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The return of every guy I’ve ever dated… and a Brit.

I’m just going to cut right to it, last week started off with a bang, Sunday night I got another text from Douchearoo:

“Thank you, just thank you for being so normal.”

I decided not to reply to this one, because really? Is this what he’s going to do every time him and his crazy pants girlfriend get into a fight and she throws stuff at his ugly face, or whatever it is that crazy pants girlfriends do?  I don’t need anyone to remind me that I’m not crazy, but thank you anyway Douchearoo.   I’m sure he feels like a big douche right now, as he should.

Monday, I got a text from Texas…. he’s baaaack, for good. I opted out of hanging out with him last week because I just need time to adjust to the fact that I’m going to have to start drinking during the week and that I might just have to throw in the towel and make out with him.  He seems all right after what I went through this weekend.

Saturday, Betty came for a visit.  We started drinking pretty much the second she arrived.  5 or 6 hours later we made our way downtown to a bar next to a concert hall.

We walk in, grab a seat, and start to suck down drinks when I hear someone walk up behind me and say… “Gizzy?” I turn around to see that it’s Snoop-Linus.  What. The. Fuck.  He pulls up a chair, is wasted and acting like a drunk asshole, pulls out a wad of cash and says, “I’ll take this to the store right now and buy you a ring, I’ll do it, and we’ll go to Vegas tonight.”  Um, good for you but I don’t want to marry you, or talk to you, ever.   But what I really said was, “What kind of asshole walks around with that much cash?  You’re going to get robbed, idiot!” He proceeded to tell me that he was at the bar alone, and was about to attend a concert alone next door, because his phone was dead and he doesn’t know where his friends are.  

Then, he ordered me, Betty, and the 3 old men to his right drinks, then got in a fight with the female bartender that ended in her buying him a drink.  And I was just flabbergasted.  At this point I got up, and said… “Well this has been grand.  Goodbye.”  Walked out of the bar grabbed a cab.  Of course he chased us out asking if he could stay at my place, if I would give him another chance, and if we could just talk in private for a minute.   Now, seriously, what the fuck!?  I couldn’t even say anything, I just got in the cab… there are no words.  

Yesterday I get a text from a number not in my phone saying, “I’m in love with you and never stopped loving you.  I would give you the stars and the moon if I could.”  I replied being all, “Uhh who is this?” and it was Snoop-Linus.  Apparently he lost his dead phone Saturday night and decided to get a new number.   I just can’t even be funny about this because it’s that stupid, what an idiot.

Anyway, after we dipped out on Snoop-Linus, Betty and I came across an underground tavern.  We went in and started playing a game of pool when these two guys in suits came up to us… 

One was engaged, one was not, one was 36, one was 29, one was cute, one was not, one was British, one was not, and they were both professional tennis players.  

That conversation went down like so, “What do you guys do?”… “Well, we’re going to sound like asshole’s, but we’re tennis pros.” Yep, you’re right.  You do sound like assholes.

Since Betty is basically married she took it upon herself to pair me with the 36 year old, not cute, single, british guy… I mean ok, his accent was cool and it was fun to talk to someone who has traveled the world and done cool things that I haven’t.  But pretty much as soon as I started talking to the guy he was saying shit about how we were going to get married.  Which I’m just like, have some tact man.  You’re british, you’re supposed to be classy.  

I mentioned mine and Lucky’s 30th birthday Euro trip, since he is from Europe he had some interesting things to say… he asked where we’d be going and I said, “Well we haven’t really talked about it, but probably some of your standard European countries/cities…. London, Paris, Italy…maybe Greece and Spain?”  Well, being a “pretentious European asshole” (his words not mine) he pretty much had to put his 2 cents in about everything I had to say about it.  “Ugh.. why would you want to go to Greece!”  “Ummm… because it’s beautiful.  That’s why.  I actually would like to honeymoon in the Greek Isles if I can ever meet a guy who isn’t a douche.”  Then he proceeded to tell me that he knows someone with “fabulous summer homes” in each of these countries that we could stay at.  I mean that’s cool, but #1 this trip is 4 years from now and #2 you’re not coming, so thanks for bragging but no thanks.  

The conversation from there on out got a little blurry because I was drinking heavily to avoid all that awkwardness… the next thing I remember him saying is that he’s from Wales and it’s like the West Virginia of England – I was wasted so I just thought that was down right hilarious and started saying, “Prince Harry of West Virginia!” in my finest British accent to everyone in the bar.  

THEN! The other guy’s fiance and her friend bust through the bar doors with massive chips on their shoulder.  With good reason, I guess.  They left and dragged the engaged guy out with them. So Betty, myself, and the Brit were left at the bar to drink.  The next thing I know after that I hear Betty inviting the Brit back to my place.   Which I don’t do.  I’ll hang out with strangers in a bar, but we’re not in college anymore – we can’t just be inviting random guys back to my apartment, but he came anyway.   I offered him a beer, apologized for the fact that I live in a frat house, and got into my pajamas as a hint to him that it was time to go.  He stuck around for a few hours and finally took the hint after I wouldn’t let Betty leave the two of us in the room alone, but not before he could get my number.  

Not 2 seconds after he walked out my front door he texted me, “Would you like to grab a movie or a bite on Monday evening? It was really nice to meet you tonight.”

I didn’t reply.

The next morning I get another text from him, “Morning! If you girls would like to come to the tennis club for breakfast this morning, come on in, it’s on me!” (The tennis place he practices at is like a block from my apartment.  Yay.)

4 hours later I replied, at 2pm.  “Ohh sorry, we just got out of bed.”

“No worries, I am jealous you got to sleep in.  I have been training since 6:30!  Can I call you later?”

I didn’t reply.

Later that night he texts me again, “Hey how was your day?  I’m bloody exhausted.  I was wondering if you’d like to grab a drink on Tuesday night?”

I replied yesterday morning saying, “My day was good, I have plans Tuesday night (lie) but thanks.”

He replied, “How about bowling on Wednesday?”

So I pulled the unthinkable, “I’m actually leaving for a business trip for the next week.” Another lie.  ECK!

So he says, “Safe travels, lets catch up next week.  It would be fun to hang out.”

I know that lying was wrong, but I don’t have it in my heart to tell someone that I’m just flat out not interested.  He’ll get the hint right? Betty was all, why don’t you just hang out with him and tell him it’s just as friends?  Because! Yes I know I am looking for friends, but I am looking for friends that are in my generation..and he’s 36, that’s 10 years older than me and quite honestly it makes me a little uncomfortable to even think about it.   I just came to terms with the fact that I might have to date a guy who is 30, so 36 is like really pushing it. 

Now, before everyone starts calling me an ageist and posting nasty things about me on your own blogs and start commenting saying I should give the guy a chance because love has no age and all that bullshit… Let me just say that this is my life and if I don’t want to get to know an old man I don’t have to and anyone who doesn’t like it can kiss my ass.   I’ll do what I want! Damnit!

Then I got a text from Dina yesterday begging me to come out with her and Sweater Vest next weekend, because “he really wants to see me”.  And I just realized that I’ve never told you about Sweater Vest…

Sigh

I’m tired.

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