Smitten with Him

grown-up stuff happens here sometimes

Shakespeare Is Dead

Dead_Shakespeare

He didn’t last very long.

(that’s what she said 😉 )

I kind of suspected it from the get-go, but he was an arrogant jerk.

Lemme backtrack a moment…

At noon on Tuesday he sent me a text (this is not what makes him an arrogant jerk):

Hey there. I’m at XXX Ave and XXX St on my lunch break. Maybe I could check out your place of work? Otherwise, we should totally have lunch or something.

He had mentioned that his new office wasn’t far away from the neighborhood where I work (I didn’t give him any name or address, just the general area).

It spooked me a little. Probably because of MM only a week before.

And he wasn’t that far away!

I was hoping that he hadn’t googled my phone number and found my work address. It would really suck if he had already hopped on a bus to come see me!

Shakespeare_Dead

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Mr. Nice Guy

So… My Friday night date that was cut short… Yeah…

But it started off splendidly!

For some quick background. Mr. Nice Guy works in the same office as me, just a different division (not like Mitch, who is an independent contractor working directly for my division – and, incidentally, has a girlfriend now. Go Mitch!). So, we have worked ‘together’ for the past 3.5 years and see each other frequently – more so in the last several months leading up to Friday’s date.

The first couple of years we would cross paths and have brief general conversations in the ‘lunchroom’. To be honest, he creeped me out a good part of that time because he was always staring at my boobs (to be fair, they are pretty nice! 😉 ). But, once we started talking more and discovered we had more in common, he stopped looking at my chest so much and started talking to my face.

He knows quite a bit about my most recent ‘dating’ blunders: Alaska, Rock Star, most of the unsuccessful dates in-between…

He’s been divorced for several years and hasn’t gone out with anyone for over four. Apparently, all he could find were completely insane women, so he stopped bothering to look. (A lot like how I am starting to feel, as well as a few of the rest of you, based on reading your blogs 😦 )

He’d been hinting at it for a while, but he isn’t my type (too short), so I kept avoiding the subject. But, during the week after my Rock Star incident, I asked Mr. Nice Guy when we were actually going to go someplace together outside of work.

Then he asked me on a date…

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Things…

Quite a few times now I have sat down to write all of the things that are happening to me… All the feelings that are going on inside of me…

The words just don’t flow. I feel like I am staggering drunkenly across the page each time I scrawl something new (and that’s a challenge because I’m typing. hehehe…).

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Self Doubt…

…It’s killing me.

I want to blame Loserman, but it really only starts there. The rest is me and my lame choices during my struggle to get over that horrible horsefly.

  • Scorpio – we’re still friends. Regardless, he was a bad choice.
  • TC – believe it or not, he’s a tough one to get over. Even though I only knew TC for a short time, he really broke my heart.

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Published Author

One morning a while back, I was walking through the parking garage at work and was accosted by a woman (a stranger, might I add) who absolutely HAD to tell me that she was in the middle of publishing a book!

OMG!

Of poems, no less!!

OM*F*G!!

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Bitch On Fire

I hate being fake

Pretending to like someone

Because

I’m scared to make her angry

Because

I’m afraid to lose my job

Because

There is no nice way

To tell her that she’s a bitch-on-fire

BitchOnFire

P.S. Crazy girl at work has to take a “Communication Skills for Women” class. Woo hoo!! Karmic retribution!!

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12 Critical Things…

image

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Life is Like a Joke (for Someone Else)

There were a couple of days last week that could have possibly gone a little bit better.

Last Tuesday started out like it was going to be a normal day. I woke up with Alaska, morning sex, shower, kiss good-bye, the whole bit. It was nice.

But…Tuesdays

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Fake

I’m surrounded by it!

Fake hair
Fake nails
Fake skin
Fake personalities…

And it’s all about money, money money!!!

Maybe if I had enough, I might be like all of them.

***OR***

I might choose to fucking share it or use it differently than on sheer vanity. But, I work with real estate agents, bankers and title companies. Apparently, to be employed or work in these fields, you must be 100% not real in any way at all.

It’s the status quo to drive a BMW or Audi or Range Rover or Mercedes and own your own, expensive home in a pretentiously glamorous neighborhood. I drive a piece of shit (no offense, Breezy), rusty, old 1997 Plymouth Breeze with almost 200,000 miles and I rent a fucking 2 -bedroom apartment with a loft.

  • I don’t wear makeup, pretty much ever. There will be a special occasion now and again, but it’s a pain in the ass to put on, it gets on my clothes and clogs my already-oil-saturated face pores.
  • My hair is very, very grey – I figure why the hell should I even try? It would cost thousand$ to continually cover up what is fighting naturally to be there!
  • I can’t remember the last time I paid full price for an item of clothing: thrift stores are where it’s at!

Johnny Id posted this picture Wednesday as I was writing this… It made me laugh so hard because it fit so well with my feelings 🙂 Thanks, J-Man ❤

from EvilMilk

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Remember Mitch?

Probably not, right?

I first introduced him quite a while ago: Coyness is a Virtue?

Then there was my post Work and Sex Don’t Mix?

Mitch is 58. He tells me all the time that he never messes around with women that much younger than him (I am 14 years his junior), that he doesn’t want to get into another complicated “relationship” and that I should be “trying to find a man closer to [my] age”. But he kinda looks after me in a very fatherly type of way. It’s been 6 months since we started messing around and it’s been nearly a year where he calls me almost every, single day.

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