Variety

I feel like I’m the girl that bounces between clicks. It has suddenly occurred to me while sitting at lacrosse practice that none of my group of guy are actually friends. Let me break it down for you. You have LNAYX and FireNY. Buds of course but they could not be more removed from the thought process and actions of Mr. Breadstick and Mr. Soup. Same goes for Mr. Boxer and Mr. Mosquito.

The groups of guys are almost polar opposites so what boggles me about this is where do I fit in?  How did I honestly become friends with such a wide range of people?

Perhaps the answer is in the fact that I’m a nice person and a social butterfly. I know it has nothing to do with my intelligence. I don’t use my brain for the most part in an large capacity around the boys. If I do it’s rare. But I digress. In all seriousness though, why am I friends with such a variety of people?

Weird. Just weird.

More to come on this topic later. Got to get back to practice and Clapper is getting curious.

Swirling In Thought

Ok ok. So I know I haven’t posted recently. I have been so over whelmed by my own thoughts that I haven’t been able to get anything out on paper, or rather out of my finger tips and on to this here screen. My thoughts have been racing from one situation to the next. Thoughts all pointing to chance…and change.

My job is changing. I’m getting a new one. Don’t know where or what yet but it is going to change. I made my first big girl step and applies for 2 jobs and am networking into a few others hopefully. I’m considering working two jobs just so I can have one that I enjoy. But I’ll keep all that hush hush for the moment. When things work out, and even if they don’t, you’ll hear all about my irrational thoughts at some point.

Along with the job comes the move. The very thing that is driving this ship currently. Driving right out of this state and into another one. Which one, I don’t know, and frankly it doesn’t much matter as long as I can smell the roses, feel the wind, and dance with my eyes closed.Maybe I’ll be by the seaside. Maybe in the mountains. Wherever it is I know I’ll be home because home is where my heart beats the fondest.

Then comes the matter of men. Part of me says “Fuck them all. Literally. And when you come up short handed (Mr. Boxer stop reading here and skip to the next paragraph.) that’s why you have the battery operated boyfriend. The worst thing he can do is die on you. But never fear, your local grocery store is always there.

Another part of me wants to sit back and see who comes to me. Then again I’ve never been very patient. The final part of me wants to go after what I want but my god, what the fuck is that?! I know I’m ready for a relationship but sometimes having choices is too much. There is Mr. Mosquito. Good when we are good. Bad, down right fucking awful when we are at each others throats. It’s a blood bath. He toys with my heart and my emotions and has no fucking idea what he is doing. But never fear, like most (not all) men his age he is a big fat scared pussy. Yes I said it. I’m not going to wait around on his ass to shift into second gear when I’m already there.

Next is Mr. Soup. Fuck he is good. And what he is thinking I have no clue and it drives me nuts!  Sometimes I feel he ia completely incapable of a normal conversation with me. But everytime he is around he turns into a dork, or so Peace says. I’m to busy over thinking and blocking off all emotion.  No no. I can not possibly feel anything right now. It’s an inconvenience.

Then there is the matter of LNAYX, who just recently dumped his girlfriend. May also mention that he told me this on his birthday sober. Well his version of sober anyways. It was his birthday. And this was after he asked me to grab a few beers with him for his birthday, which mind you ended up just being just him and I drinking at my place. We talked deep. Both drunk and sober. He stayed over that night. Nothing, not even a kiss, happened. When we got in bed he snuggled. His idea, not mine, but I’m not saying no to snuggle time. And there it was again. I fit. I fit right there as the little spoon, my head on his arm, his arms wrapped around me pulling me into his chest. Fuck. I even let my “I don’t give a fuck attitude” hang out. I slept with my mouth guard in. No one except for Sunshine sees me in that god awful, necessary thing.

So I guess it’s time to make decisions, even those that require feeling. (Damn. I really am a Samantha/Miranda.) I feel like I’m physically growing up. I’m wearing my big girl pants. I’m going from crawling to toddling into the big bad world. So what prompted all this? Plain and simple. A desire to be happy and free. Some people call me crazy and don’t understand me. My Ma tells me I’m high on life. Personally, I kinda like going to fly a kite in some random obsecure place. At least I know I won’t be bored with the adventure that awaits me.

Rate It

I found this chart on The Frisky a few months ago, and it honestly has changed how I reference men. It use to be “Oh he is so hot”, “Delicious”, etc., but now I can’t help but to scream with giggly joy “HE’S A UNICORN!” And boy when I do hit a unicorn, I keep hitting it. Repeatedly. Yum.

You see, I have hit at least 2  unicorns in my life, and you best believe I have proof. Mr. Soup, and Mr. Nelson. And yes, it really doesn’t get better than that. The first thing that qualifies them is their face. Gorgeous eyes, high cheek bones, and a smile that makes you want to jump him on the spot. Next, we have the body. Incredible genes. Solid, fit, and you know those arms can hold you tight, and hold you up. Three, for me it’s that he was a brain. Yes, you must be intelligent to some degree or I will not fuck you. If you can’t carry on a decent conversation beyond sports, beer, drunken adventures, how hot a girl is, and the size of your dick, I am not interested in becoming a jockey. Luckily, these two men have enough sense to carry on a conversation about something else with me. Four, your team player must be able to make the all-star team. If not, you’re fucked (figuratively of course). Five, have the balls to communicate with me. That’s were Mr. Nelson failed. No communication equals an extremely pissed off Nelson who really doesn’t give a shit how great the sex was.

Moving on.

Mr. Mosquito…He’s an iPhone. Even though it’s common, I’ll still show it off. Doesn’t quite make bragging rights, but it leaves me coming back for more. Just a point that even if you have a small package you can still work it enough to please a lady.

Pig, definitely a banana split. There were too many other issues that got in the way of great sex. Damn it. But it was good while it lasted (for a whole 2 years in case you were wondering).

Mr. Bear, Riding Coach. Not really sure what was so great about that whole relationship.

Mr. Slap, before he got into his slapping motions, he was a mere handheld fan. Something to attempt to keep you cool, but still fails at it pretty epically.

Finally, the Graham Cracker Express…Mr. Turkey Sandwich. We can thank drunken thoughts for this one.

Lost In The Sauce

I am what you would say lost in the sauce. The sauce of course being men and what the hell I should do with them. Let’s review the players below.

1. Mr. Mosquito- Still a viable option. He goes and comes but gets jealous when I hook up with other people. Not cool. It’s like he wants me but he does want me. Commitment issues dude.

2. Mr. Soup- Still a high candidate on the list. Minus the fact that he ignores me on occasion. Men equal lack of communication skills. Standard.

3. Mr. Bear- He won’t get off my nuts. I’ve tried everything under the sun and he is still standing on my branch. Irritating. How do I politely tell him to fuck off?

4. LNAYX- Don’t try to pronouce it. He is a new player to the game. Attractive. Great personality. Laid back yet has a plan. Communicates very very well. Seems into me. Then I facebook stalked him. He has a girlfriend. What the fuck dude!? Don’t like me and hit on me when you have a lady friend. Not cool.

5. Mr. Greek- Oh man I don’t know what to do with this one. I think I hurt him but not on purpose. I don’t want a relationship with him even though he is a great person. Makes me feel like an ass.

So the question is, what do I do with my players? Do I sit back and enjoy the game? Do I go after one of them hardcore? Or do I continue to play the field?

I feel like I have all of these options but no real direction. I think (or I hope rather) that other women feel like I do. I would like a companion. I know that I’m ready for one. I am rooted strong enough in myself that I know what I want and I want a mature relationship. But are most guys in their mid 20’s ready for that? I don’t think that they are but I also really don’t understand that either. Help.

Frank’s Cheesesteak

There are just certain foods that make my mouth water. Grandma’s pancakes, MaMa Perry’s cornbread, a Ruth Chris steak, Five Guys hamburgers, and a Frank’s cheesesteak. Now most of these foods I don’t brag about or state that “I got grandma’s pancakes!”. However, for Mr. Mosquito, I will always make a point to tell him I got a Frank’s cheesesteak. Whether its a tagged Facebook post, or text message, I make it know that he should be jealous that I’m eating one of the best sandwiches and he can’t have one.

They are the most perfect cheesesteaks I have ever tasted. The gooey cheese with the meat, onions and peppers. Top it off with a little lettuce and tomato. Toast the bread just a little. Yum. But I digress.

Our cheesesteak fetish started back in the Spring of 2010. We made our way to Frank’s one day after working (him more than me) our ass off on a 5K run…in the pouring down, freezing cold rain. The cheesesteak was glorious. From that moment on we shared our love for the Frank’s cheesesteak.

In April, I’ll never forget being at school with a Frank’s cup in my hand talking to a friend and my phone goes off. All it says is, “I know that’s not a Frank’s cup in your hand!”. Where Mr. Mosquito was to spot me I’m still not sure but he caught me and called me out. Every since then we have had rivalries about Frank’s. It’s one of the many things that we have bonded over, and one that as long as Frank’s never dies, neither will our bond.

So if you haven’t had a Frank’s cheesesteak, you need to go get one. Now. Find a friend, make a bond, and let your mouth have an orgy with that sandwich!

Mr. Boxer Tradition.

Today was the first day that I haven’t cried for my friend. I still feel deep sadness for him, but I think I’m starting to find my peace with it.

In other news, I traveled from Charleston to Virginia Beach today. The morning was peaceful. Perfectly relaxing with coffee and oatmeal. The traveling was cake, comparatively. I arrived in VA Beach to spent a few days with Mr. Boxer and Mr. Mosquito, who is not here. Job interview elsewhere. I realized earlier that this is the first time here that I have had to sleep alone. Honestly, I don’t like the feeling at all. Its always comforting to have someone by your side.

Regardless, we have to weird dynamic on the face of this earth. Its impossible to describe. We are friends, yet Mr. Mosquito gets jealous (in my opinion). He doesn’t even see what is right in front of him. I think, whatever it is, could jump up and down and scream and he would either run or not see it. Moron. I just wish he’d acknowledge it and stop being so afraid.

But I digress. Mr. Boxer and I went to a wonderful dinner. Its like a tradition for us. Don’t knock it. Pasta, sangria, inappropriate conversation. Deliciousness and perfection. Topped off with more excellent conversation and contemplation. Tomorrow is rage night for some. It’ll be epic regardless.

And It Goes On And On

Hello world. I didn’t forget about you for the day. I’m sure that you can tell by the tone of this post that things are better between the travel buddy and I. They are but its not what you are thinking. Let me explain.

So left you with the basic point that traveling jackass was getting on my nerves. It got worse. I lost my nugget this morning. The idiot had gone down to the casino to gamble (remember we are in Vegas). While gambling I know he was drinking whiskey mixed drinks. I don’t know how many he consumed but when he came back to the room he was fucked up drunk. Wonderful right?

He drank way too much last night. Woke me up in the middle of the night because he was throwing up. I lost my shit on him this morning. I was so mad I was shaking. Afterward he had the nerve to ask me what he did wrong so I lit into him again. I dropped him off at the airport in Vegas.

Call it me being a bitch. I don’t care. I had enough. After promptly putting him out on the curb of the airport, my trip became instantly better. I made my way from Vegas to LA with ease. However,I sooner realized that although LA is pretty , its not really my style.

So I was in-and-out like the burger. I was originally planning to go see the Grand Canyon, the Painted Desert, etc. But after calling my mother and checking the weather, we decided that this was not a good idea because the area got a ton of snow poured on them. So I changed plans and am currently making my way to Dallas, Texas. Its a challenge to make it there before 7PM. I’ll have to let you know later today how that went.

The drive today was occupied by a whole lot of desert. Not exciting. I had meaningful conversations and much needed entertainment from LadyFriend, Mr. Boxer, Mr. Mosquito, Mr. Breadsticks, Mr. Greek, Mr. Delicious, and Ma. Once again, their conversations are greatly appreciated.

Here’s to the Dallas Challenge, watching the sunset in LA and watching it rise somewhere in Texas.