Ummm....so, hi! It's been over a month. Oops?!?!
Internet, it's not that I don't love you, it's just that I haven't done much interesting. And in the boringness of my life, I haven't much felt like sharing how the excitement of my day is to go check the mail at 4:00. Woo Wee!
I guess that's not completly true. According to my last post, I was standing up Mr. Big Texticles. Well, I didn't end up doing that, I actually ended up hanging out with him that night and several more times. (SKIP THIS PART MOM) Until that time we got way too drunk at Fado and ended up in a compromising position or two, and he was a little.....less than impressive, let's say. Uhm, buh bye. Hee Hee.
Oh, and while we are on the subject of compromising positions (SKIP THIS TOO MOM), in my sulkiness of being laid off, I decided to let an "old friend" take me out to dinner, and ended up in a re-do situation. A bad, bad re-do situation. To the tune of a HANDPRINT BRUISE on my breast.
**No, it was not abuse, it was DRUNKEN STUPIDITY. Learn from me, don't re-do out of sadness.
So next, I re-started dating a guy that I can't remember if I wrote about on here. Really, I just decided that I don't like my layout because it is hard to read, so I'm too lazy to read back and see if I did or not. Anywho, this guy was something else. 6'6 and 240 pounds of muscle. Not bad, right? EXCEPT that he WOULD NOT stop talking about his body and how bad it was and what he could do to make it better. And half of our dates started at his gym. But, our of sheer boredom or lonliness or whatever, I continued on, giving him the benefit of the doubt. He actually started to say that he was really liking me and that he wanted to see me more. Great, right?
Then I drop a small little bomb.
Well, he knew the bomb, but I don't think he believed it. I told him I am moving. On August 10. To San Diego, California. I do not think he liked that.
So he did what every mature 33 year old man (who lived with his mother!) does, and disappeared. No texts, no calls, no emails, nothing. Until like three weeks later and he randomly wants to catch up and hang out at my pool.
No sir. Mama is way better than that, and she can get way better than you.
So, point of that story, I guess, is that the only truly exciting thing I'm doing is moving. For sure. It was originally supposed to be myself and one friend. Then a girlfriend of mine from high school, one who has always wanted to just up and move, came to me and said she was sick and tired of Atlanta, and let's just go. So I said, come with us to San Diego! And she said OK. So now it is myself and a girlfriend from high school and on August 10th, we are packing all our shit in a big ole truck and driving across the country.
10 July, 2008