Posts Tagged ‘S’

I’m a Blog Tease and a Barnes & Noble Whore

I just completed a Barnes & Noble online purchase because in the week I finished two books. Refer to The Bookcase to see where $26.28 of my disposable income went.

Oh, and S. came to visit me this weekend…

News Flash: Men Have Insufficient Communication Skills

It’s 6:58a.m. and I’m awake even though my alarm won’t go off until 7:16a.m. (I always set my alarms with obscure times, it’s one of my many OCD habits).

Why am I awake?

Because S. decided it was time to call me back. At 6:11 a.m. Normally, I wouldn’t have answered but considering he is on a cross-country adventure with little cash, I thought it might be an emergency.

I was wrong.

He met some drunk Irish guys and wanted me to talk to them. I talked to them for 10 minutes, and hung up. I tried to go back to sleep and was obviously not successful. So, being groggy from the absurd wake up call and bitter that he hadn’t called me back concerning my voice mail, I called him. And I yelled, well, whisper yelled. He got the point.

After my tirade, he said, “It’s good to hear your voice. I miss you. I’ve thought about you a lot on this trip.”

Really?

At 6 in the morning?

Talk to me when I’ve gotten my beauty sleep, bud.

Click.

But I didn’t hang up, because I think I’m still holding on…

photo cred: http://www.spybusters.com/blog/labels/Hack.html

Where I Save Your Time and Mine

‘ello, mates! Long time no blog, yeah?!

So, news flash, I moved to Australia instead of D.C.– or at least I picked up a half-assed Down Under accent in the week and a half I’ve been missing from the blogosphere. But you know what, I have excuses. Good ones. And excuses mean stories, so deal with the absence, sit back, and enjoy the ride.

You know what, scratch that. I’m going to make this easy for both you and me. I’m busy, you’re busy, there are not enough hours in the day for me to ramble on in a 1,287 word blog post explaining the whirlwind of a week I’ve just had, so I’m going to bullet important headlines and you can choose what you want to read or skip based on your allotted procrastination schedule (yeah, that’s right, I’m onto you and your procrastination, you Sneaky McWorksuckssons). This also gives me the excuse to include more of those adorable swirly bullets that I adore so much. (Those reading in a feeder, you’re missing out, I swear.)

  • The Move from Florida to D.C. – After an 11-hour car ride with my mom, stepdad, and two brothers, I made it to D.C. alive. There was a brief moment when I thought a cleaning woman would find my half-deteriorated corpse sometime in late August when she finally decided to return to her shitty job because her husband Earl got fired from the Santee, South Carolina textile mill, a thought that stems mainly from my grandparents’ debilitating desire to spend no more than $65 per night on a hotel room (and that’s including the AAA discount). Anyway, we escaped the Migrant Workers’ Budget Inn without a scrape and with all of my belongings still in our possession. Onward to DC!
  • The Apartment – My new home is a slew of adjectives that the Webster’s thesaurus would list next to the word “amazing.” Beautiful views of downtown Alexandria? Check. Balcony overlooking a courtyard? Check. Huge room with tons of storage space? Check. Running water and electricity? Check. Across the street from the metro? Check. I took tons of pictures to show you my new place, but unfortunately I left the cable cord to my digi camera back in Florida.
  • The Job – I’ve only been here five days, but so far I enjoy my work and my co-workers. I had to sign tons of paperwork promising I would respect the confidentiality of my clients since I’m working in government affairs, but so far the actual work has been very intriguing. Oh, and did I mention that I get paid to read newspapers and peruse my google reader? This job is perfect for a nerd like me.
  • Boys – I made out with a lawyer 10 years older than me with bad hair and a good body. I didn’t realize how much older than me he was until he accepted my facebook request. Facebook ruins my life. I called S., which was a huge mistake. I won’t go into the embarrassing details of the voice mail I left, but let’s just say that it makes me wince to think about. Needless to say, he never called me back. Last night, I signed onto the life ruiner a.k.a. facebook to see that S. had poked me. Poked me?! Why do guys think that is a substantial form of communication? Then today while at work, he IM’d me to tell me that he had a very good reason for not calling me back and that “good things that come to those who are patient, sweetheart.” I wanted to vomit. Sweetheart?! Patience?! Does he even know me? Anyway, on a better note, one of my really good friends from high school is now a marine stationed at Quantico, which is about 25 miles south of here. Let’s call him Marine Boy, MB for short MB and I actually dated off and on periodically, basically whenever I was home and we were both single, so that is a very interesting development. MB’s mom was my favorite teacher in high school, and she always tried to set us up. I’m not saying I’m romantically interested in him, but he is unique with an engaging perspective on the world. Great for deep conversations that completely blow my mind. Word on my voice mail is that we’re getting dinner tomorrow… we’ll see. Finally, there is a guy that I met while I was in D.C. over spring break. He is from Boston, so we will give him the code name “Boston Boy.” We bonded over our love for the BoSox, Samuel Adams, and writing. While I was back in Florida, he would periodically call me to check in and see how I was doing. Sweet, yeah? I thought so. Well, he called me this past weekend and wants to get together at some point. He’s going out of town the next two weekends, so I’m not holding my breath.
  • Entertainment – I finished Jane Austen’s Sense & Sensibility. I love having time to read– the real world rocks in this regard. Now I’m onto Mansfield Park, but so far it’s not doing much for me. I’m only 96 pages in, so I’m holding out that it’ll get better. I haven’t gone out around D.C. much, but my roomie and I did try out Georgetown’s waterfront for happy hour one day last week. Highly enjoyable. I’m looking forward to finding new bars– I need something to replace my favorite places from back home. Lastly, I have developed a hearty addiction to Lost. I think this is where I picked up my awful Aussie accent (hell, yeah, alliteration). I’m actually about to go watch another episode…

Hope this sufficiently updates everyone on my life thus far. I promise my posts will be more interesting/thought provoking at some time in the near future.

Cheers, mates!

67 Ways to Keep Men Interested: These Tips Will Blow Your Mind

First of all, call the false advertisement police, this post will not have 67 ways to keep men interested. I wish I knew one way to keep men interested or, hell, keep one good man interesting, but I’ve yet to figure out either. My friends, however, think I’ve got it down:

FriendyMcFrienderson(12:19:29 AM): how do you keep men interested

Audreyesque1 (12:19:37 AM): WHAT?

Audreyesque1 (12:19:41 AM): are you kidding?

Audreyesque1 (12:19:43 AM): you’re asking me this?

FriendyMcFrienderson (12:19:49 AM): no I’m not kidding

FriendyMcFrienderson (12:20:48 AM): nevermind, i’ll just look on cosmo.com

Ahh, Cosmo and the false hopes it gives women each month as they stand in the checkout line, deciding which new flavor of Orbit gum they should buy. Speaking of which, how many do they have now and how do I get that job… official gum-flavor-maker-upper for Orbit.

But I digress…

My friend’s IM arrived simultaneously with this pleasant bit of online chatter from my current ex friend-boy:

JustAnothaPEN15(11:08:21 PM): i’ve just begun to resent you for the rest of my life.

Ouch.

I’m not a member of the she-woman man-haters club so before I start sounding like I’m bashing this guy, I should preface by saying I’m confused. My whole quasi-relationship with… let’s call him S… has been half-Nicholas Sparks’ novel, half-Fatal Attraction. We don’t live anywhere near each other and we’ve only seen each other 3 times, but there’s a genuine affection that stems from the deep communion we share. Essentially, we’re both crazy and need psychiatric help so we bond over that, but you know, deep communion sounds a lot more romantic.

Anyway, S. has severe admiration for talented musicians who are true to their art, or some shit. His favorite artists include the Beatles, Crowded House, and some guy named—actually, I don’t even remember, but this guy is why S now resents me. See, S and I aren’t very good at debating, especially when it comes to music because, well, I usually just don’t care. I like what I like, whether it’s the Beatles or Fleetwood Mac or the latest Carrie Underwood song. There’s no pattern to my iPod—it is what it is.

Not S. He meticulously determines which songs have value and which don’t, and he tries to argue with me even though, news flash, HE’LL ALWAYS WIN because the only technical thing I understand about music is that it magically travels from my iPod to my ears and makes me dance awkwardly when I’ve consumed too much whisky. So S made me listen to this guy and I found him pretty boring. When I told S this, he got defensive and wanted to have a debate about why this guy is capable of curing cancer with his guitar. To which I replied, “I don’t want to talk about this, because I know we’ll end up fighting and it really doesn’t matter.”

Mature enough, right?

S’s response: you can’t debate like an adult because you’re insecure and fucked up.

Say what?!

If this were a 1999 teen flick, Usher’s record would have just come to a screeching halt as the room full of wannabe prom queens and kings fell eerily silent so that they could stare at me covered in pig’s blood (oops, combining decades there).

For two hours, we argued. Ad-hominem attacks were slung, ignored phone calls took place, and an eventual ceasefire that ended in silence from both parties was called. Now, I don’t know where S and I stand, which is nothing new when it comes to us. Except this time, I’m not crying. This time, I’m a lot calmer. This time, I’m not so worried about the future.

Because, when it comes down to it, I’m not sure if there’s a particular pattern you can follow to keep anyone interested. If they’re interested, they’ll stay that way without any help.

Time to go read He’s Just Not That Into You. For the 108th time… this year.