Sail Away With Me... Not

So I went and hung out with some friends last weekend. They were all gathering at a place I think of as my "Cheers", despite that I don't make it down there every day and don't know most of the staff. I just feel homey when I'm there.

The Gingerman

I honestly really needed a "Gingerman" trip anyway. It'd been a while since I'd been there, and the need for beer was strong. If the Gingerman was closer to me, I might actually have a chance of becoming that alcoholic that I keep trying and failing to be. Though I even doubt that one as I've a fridge with cold beer and several bottles of hard liquor that I'm always forgetting to drink. I even have my favorite vodka (Armadale) sitting right beside my computer, and like eating.. I forget to drink it. 

It's actually pretty amazing that I remember to post blog posts or even manage to get through writing a blog post. Yes, my attention span is that f'd up. Ooooo pretty...

Oh yes.. back to the Gingerman..

I arrive. Late. As usual. But not so late to miss the entire party, just enough that I'm a drink or two behind everyone else. A true alcoholic would have arrived early to drink more.. damn it.. 

Anyway, my friends see me and act like I'm some sort of mirage. Have I mentioned that I've not seen most of them in months? It takes them a minute but.. 

I got flack.

"Where have you been? Don't tell me you have friends other than us!" Don lectured me jokingly as he came over to give me a big hug.

He was then followed by a couple girls that I pretend to be friends with, but in reality barely know. They're great girls and a lot of fun .. at least while at the bar.. but I just don't see us clicking without a beer in hand and mutual male friends to distract us. Let alone a girls-night. Call me paranoid, but I honestly think if we went to a bar just us girls to hang out.. I'd have blade marks all over my back.

But I made nice, and acted all happy to see them. It was good to see familiar faces and have people that were interested in me.. so it wasn't an entire act I guess. They wanted to catch up on everything I've been doing lately... which honestly is nothing of any interest anyone. 

Would you like to know about my experiment with maple syrup vs brown sugar syrup on pancakes?  Or maybe all the interesting job offers I'm getting for things that either will put me in jail or make me homicidal so I end up in jail?

So I answered their questions to the best of ability, and they drifted off to other people.  

Don however stuck around. He wanted more details and wasn't going to give up until I told him everything.  So I did. About me being sick and not wanting to socialize, about the job hunt which is going miserably, and about anything else that came to mind.

Then I saw Karl. Karl is an older gentleman. He's normally quiet, polite, somewhat shy, a little aloof but social, and always in the best manners (reserved).  So what happened made my head spin a little.

I see Karl talking to a very hot man whom I've never seen before. I catch Karl out of the corner of my eye pointing in my direction and commenting to the guy next to him.

"I saw that!" I exclaim to Karl pretending to be offended/suspicious, then turn to his friend. "What is he selling you on now? Don't trust a word of it!" I say as I smile widely.

Karl completely denies pointing as a child does who got caught eating chocolate and denies it with chocolate all over his face.

I then start to walk away to say hi to a few other people, when Karl grabs my arm.

"You can't leave."

"Whaa?"

"You can't leave. You have to stay here."

This is unlike Karl. Most times Karl just lets me flitter wherever I want. Never has he ever tried to entangle me in a conversation.

So I figured he had something to say to me. 

Nope. He just wanted me to stand there next to him as he talked with the hot guy.

I of course had other plans. The guy was hot and all, but a little shorter than I like, and I'm not really that into dating right now.  So I wanted to say hi to my friends before they left.

I started to leave again..

And again Karl stopped me. It was then I realized that Karl was drunk. I'd never seen Karl drunk.. but he was.  And it was funny.

He was joking with me.. in annoying ways.. that make me laugh. His antics were also making the hot guy laugh.. though he was in fairness laughing at me and my inability to get away politely.

Finally Karl let me escape, and I went to say Hi to more of my friends.  I also learned that I do not post on Facebook very much, and that people would have been concerned that I'd died had I completely stopped posting on Facebook. Evidently, my weekly posts on Facebook have saved me from being the subject of a 911 call.

Obviously, I need to go out more often.

So I go get more beer and flirt with Mr Hot Bartender (seriously wanna try that on for size).

It was hot outside, cool inside, and everyone was standing in the middle between the outside and inside which was part hot, and part lukewarm. I'd already said my hellos, and tired of being hot, I sat myself and my cold beer down on a couch nearby where there was no one sitting.

Ah.. peace, quiet, cool drink and air conditioning...

Then the hot guy came to sit across from me to talk.

It was idle chitchat to start. How long have I know these friends.. how often do we all hang out.. etc and so on.

Then he started to tell me about himself.  About his condo downtown, and his other house in Boston.

Is it just me, or? ... when a guy says that he has two residences and claims to be single... does anyone else just tune out?

It seems to be a theme with me lately. Meeting men who obviously want me to think or know they have money.  

For me, all I need to know is that you're financially stable. If you're trying to tell me you've make $300k a year, you've obviously misjudged my priorities.  However if you've got big bucks, and I know it without you telling me, you're generous without flaunting it.. I might start stalking you. Its all about the character baby.

He was a nice guy, and despite his double houses .. I might have given him a chance.. but he also really really likes boating and sailing.

Me + Water (with fish in it) is a non-starter. Not going to happen. Unless your boat is the size of a small island, don't be trying to picture us "sailing away" any day soon.

Then people saw us sitting down and talking. Don, in his own flirting enthusiastic way, plopped down next to me in a way that can only be described accurately as an ex-boyfriend move.. and the hot guy's eyes reacted as if "Oh you have a boyfriend"... which made me laugh. Had I not already ruled Hot guy out as a potential date, I might have been a little upset with Don.  As it was I joked around with Don, and introduced him to the hot guy.  Then one by one everyone joined the couches and conversations.

Hot guy stayed and talked with everyone for awhile. Don then ran off to another side of the bar.  Then Hot guy saw Don flirting outrageously with one of our mutual friends, and he commented.  I replied thats just Don he's kinda the group flirt or party person.  His eyes then changed in understanding again, realizing that Don and I weren't dating. (Silly men)

Hot guy shortly after got up for another beer. Never to be seen again.

Oh well.

Why I Hate Football...

I didn't mention it the other day... nor did I really mention this to the person who kick-started the whole train of thought which is this post.  Friday night's conversation about why I have a deep seated loathing for football, opened up some old wounds that I had forgotten. I almost broke into tears while on the phone, and almost cried about it when I got off the phone.

It honestly shocked me this sudden emotion about something so silly as football.

So I thought about it. I have good memories of football. I have great memories of football. But I also have many many horrid memories of football.

I have never watched football for the game though. Ever.  Dear Ex's.. no matter what I told you, I never ever watched football because I actually wanted to watch the game. Never. Not Once.

I grew up in Nebraska as most of you know by now. Its a huge football state. College Football. The NFL is for losers and douchebags (hey its how I was raised). 

So most of my childhood was entire fall seasons of football games. Watching them on TV when televised (rare) or listening to the game on the radio while watching or helping my dad putter around in the garage.

One of my favorite and probably earliest memories of watching football was sitting on my grandfather's lap in my parent's basement. Everyone else was doing something else. Mom & Grandma were talking something boring (I was like 5, all adult talk was boring) and my sisters were doing their usual doing something beyond my young kid skills or otherwise ostracizing me.  So I went to see if I could sneak in some TV since I was bored (we were limited to 2 hours only a day and we didn't have cable). 

There was Grandpa watching the game. I knew enough to know he wouldn't let me switch the channel, and I was not rude enough to ask. But he offered to share his easy chair with me, and let me watch the game with him. He even took the time to tell me what was happening on the screen.

I have other random memories of watching with my father and other family members. It was a social time. A bonding time. But for me, it was never about the game.

In college, one of my guy friends who I'd always wanted to date (and whom everyone else thought we were dating.. and whom ended up being gay) invited me to some Husker game parties. It was just a fun time with food, and cheering, and bonding.  But it was never about the game.

Then came my ex.

He'd gotten turned onto football a couple years earlier, and said he liked the Saints. It was the first and only team he'd ever watched live, and watched the games with his ex's father.

I've always disliked the Saints. I honestly don't give a rats-ass about most teams. Never did. I could care less if you're a Packers or Steelers or Bears or Redskins (are those all NFL football teams?) fan. But I've never liked the Saints. (I'm serious.. cheering for the Saints to me is a lot like cheering for evil or poison.. I don't know what it is.. but I just have never liked the Saints.. You know if they changed their name to the Zombies, I'd probably like them)

He said he didn't have to watch the Saints.. he just liked football. (Total lie)

One lie lead to another really. I'm not going to say its all his fault, as I'm sure I've got a hand in this too.

But what he'd told me was just a one day a week thing, suddenly became 2. Then 3. Then 4.  Anytime I wanted to go somewhere, there's a game.  It started with "I have to watch the Saint's play" to "I have to watch everyone play because it all ties into how the Saint's will do on...blah blah blah"

Sundays were completely wasted because there was the pre-pre-game, the pre-game, the introduction to the game, the game, the exit of the game, the post game, and the post-post game.

Combine this with being able to walk into the room wearing nothing but a piece of lingerie, and not be noticed (even during a post-game or pre-game show).. I began to really hate football.

Just the sound of the game in the background got my hackles up.

Soon regular NFL wasn't enough. There was the sports packages, the NFL packages, the no-one-cares old NFL game packages.. and then he got into college football. He wanted to decorate the living room in Saint's football stuff as well.

Football played 24/7 in the house. I honestly half the time didn't know if the game he was watching was "the game" or just some rerun or not.  So I didn't know if I should be nice and not interrupt or if I was free to interrupt. I was supposed to just "know".. you know.. 

So now there's a crapload of pain and anger about football and the good memories were drowning in it.  But I am healing.

At the start of this football season (and even before that) the mere mention of football, and I'd tense up. I'd get twinges of anxiety, anger, and hatred.

The other night on the phone, when asked about the SuperBowl, I discovered I wasn't angry. I really hadn't been angry when football was mentioned in weeks.. or maybe months. 

I still don't like the Saints, but I now can hear that word and the "Who Dat" without wanting to punch something.

Baby Steps.

Twitter Me This

So I go out Friday night. Its dreary. Its been raining. So I put off going out.

But I RSVP'd yes.. Plus I can help spread the word about sites where I'm writing, and possibly network for jobs maybe. And it was at the Gingerman (hello self, your favorite bar) So I should go right?

I drag myself out. I dressed nicely.. well nicely for the Gingerman, but comfy for me. I did my hair and my makeup. When I last checked in the mirror before leaving I looked GOOD.

I walk out. Its still raining. By the time I get to my car, even with the umbrella, my hair is now laying flat and frizzy. Damn it. But my face still looks ok.

By the time I actually get to the bar, my makeup is pretty much invisible with the exception of a little mascara and eyeliner. Great!

Being as I was (on my own) meeting with a bunch of people from Twitter that I've never met before let alone only twittered with a couple of them ever, even though I've been to the Gingerman tons of times, my social anxiety was in full swing. Entering the "party" looking worse than I did before I showered was not helping at all.

Luckily the Partymeister and crew were there to help give me a life-raft. I ran into them shortly after entering the bar when Pete yelled "Hey!!!" loudly as I walked by. I said my "Hi's" and went to find the Twitter ensemble.

2 hours late and the party was packed. Seriously packed like front of the stage at a rock concert. It could have easily been a moshpit. If I was actually prone to panic attacks, I'd have had one just trying to get through the crowd.

I instead went back to the Partymeister's crew and had a beer. Chatted a bit. Relaxed. However, when Partymeister's pal 'Chesthair Man' decided to start pulling out his chest hair to prove to me that he didn't need to be drunk to do it.. I decided to give the Twitterers another go.

I met a really nice guy with a huge dog. HUGE dog. I believe it was a short-haired St. Bernard. It made my 43lbs possible Belgian Shepherd look like a lapdog. The dog was sequestered under the coffee table, and I totally envied the dog. I really wanted to just be under there with it.

But I threw a smile on my face, and tried to make my rounds. It was still massively crowded and moving around was hazardous, so I tried to stay on the edge of the group. Still too crowded.

So I went back to Partymeister's table and had another beer. This time Chris was there. Unfortunately, he was also there with this very sexy "neighbor-friend" (his term) and completely absorbed by her. Cute & adorable, but not very entertaining for me. (Yes it is all about me.) So I talked a while with Pete as Chesthair Man went home, and Partymeister was distracted with some cute girls.

Finished my beer, then attempted the Twitterers again. I then finally found LaniAR whom I'd found out about the Twitter party through, and was the hostess. She introduced me to a couple people and we hit it off.

I actually met several really cool girls through the party which is extremely strange for me, but hey.. its a good thing. I also met a couple guys. One was extremely HOT, but sadly uber-married. Another may grow on me.. we'll see.

All in all, it was a good time. Tiring. Stressful. Insane. But a good time.

Oh and I now have a massive amount of Twitter-followers. Seriously though Twitterers.. I'm not THAT interesting. I promise. But for you, I'll try. :)

Lets Get Catty

Last Thursday, I posted about "Where to Meet Someone" and talked about joining groups as one good way to do it.

After my experience on Friday, I may have to take some of that gusto back.

First, against my inner-voice telling me that the group was going to be bad, I joined a Christian Social Group. As I've mentioned in past posts, I've been wavering about getting back into church and figured a social group would be a good way to see if I should progress further.

My inner-voice is usually right 98% of the time, but I ignore it just in case this might be one of the 2% of the times that its wrong.

My inner voice was telling me that the group was going to be lame mainly on the fact that the organizer seemed weird. Now don't get me wrong. I love weird, just not this kind of weird. I'd seen her post a few times from other groups and had seen enough of her around online that I just knew in my gut that she was not "my people".

In her defense, Tina's a really nice person. Clean and dresses relatively appropriately for her figure. She's not overly fancy, but down to earth and seems to care about everyone. As a person, she's probably a lot closer to Mother Theresa than I'll ever get.

That said.

She seems a little socially awkward and not very bright. Her friends that came to the group were people in need of psycho-wards and showers. Tina was wearing a tshirt, jeans, and white tennis shoes for a night out, which looked like she'd purchased all of them at Wal-Mart. And while her body was not at all her fault, it added to the pile as her torso was sized right for a person about 5'6, but her arms and legs were several inches shorter than would be proportional. She also calls it a night at 10pm.

When I first arrived, it was her and I plus 3 guys. I knew instantly from looking at her that we weren't going to be best buds, but she seemed ok. Of the three guys, two were interesting, and one was a little old but seemed nice. So out of courtesy I stayed for a while. (As it turned out this group meeting was a regular secular social group and the Christian group.. so not exactly what I was looking to find anyway.)

Then other people started joining us. A very good looking older woman, Rena joined us. Then a woman I've met before and found annoying (she's nice, dressed well, but annoys me for a reason I can't place). Then another girl joined us who was younger, extremely pretty - even I would be tempted to do her - and very funny.

Then Tina's friends started showing up. The first one that came was probably a great girl, she sat at the other end of the table from me so I can't say, but she walked in looking like she'd just come from the gym or a very active romp in the sack. No makeup, hair completely a mess, and gym clothes.

The second friend .. was.. well.. WOW. Seriously WOW, but I'll try to break it down better for you. She also had no makeup and gym-type clothes on with jeans. She was fat in the ways that they make fun of fat people with fat suits kind of fat. She had hanging jowls, a drooping chin that ran into her neck with little to no division. Her body actually had little structure (if she exercised at all I'll be shocked) and her flesh just seemed to hang in lumps. Her hair looked like she hadn't washed it in days, and she kinda smelled that way as well.

And then she talked.

I was sitting next to one of the guys, Alan, and she was on my other side. He and I had been having quite a good conversation, and she had just arrived. We were talking about driving skills and the different places you drove in and the skills needed for successful driving in those areas. IE.. differences between driving in Chicago vs Austin vs NY vs midwest. She wanted to join in and asked Alan if he thought it was a gender thing being able to drive.. if because she's a woman that she's a bad and timid driver.

She said this question in a whiny woah-is-me voice that not only had the question offended me but the voice in which she said it made me want to slap her silly and tell her to grow some balls. But I didn't. I played nice. :)

Alan and I agreed that it had little to do with gender. Alan and I had just finished discussing how where you learned to drive tended more to dictate the way you drove, and just dragged that theme a little further to answer her question. Alan and I both learned to drive in a small town with little fear of traffic. She had learned to drive in large city California. So we nicely told her that it was probably the fear of the vast amounts of traffic that gave her that mindset.

She instead went on about how timid she was, and fearful of driving, how slow she drove, and OH how fast other people went.. and Oh how she'd love to just get over her fears.. And how her mother was the same way, and Oh how she decided not to be like her mother.. blah blah whiny wine blah

Alan and I were both looking for ways to exit the conversation, alas no nice ways availed themselves. So Alan turned to his other side as if he'd gotten engaged in a vastly interesting conversation there, and left me to talk to her. Thanks ALAN!

It took nearly every ounce of remaining social grace inside me not to turn to her and shove my foot up her ass and tell her to grow a pair.

Thankfully she saw Mr Hot Guy walk in a few minutes before. He sat at the far end of the table from me, so I didn't get to talk to him much. She made the excuse that she hadn't met that side of the table yet, and there was an empty seat over there so she went to sit over there and introduce herself. I was so relieved that she was gone that I barely took time to feel sorry for Mr Hot Guy.

The rest of the evening was uneventful. People one by one were leaving, and at the end of the evening it was Alan and I with Rena, the annoying girl, the whiney girl, bedhead girl, and Tina.

I put on my best excited voice and said "Lets move the party somewhere else. Maybe get a drink somewhere nearby?"

I was hoping that Alan, Rena, and I could ditch the rest of them. Alan however was calling it a night (he btw looks and acts almost exactly like Alan Harper off of Two and a Half Men). That pretty much dampened my spirits of wanting to go out, and when I let my energy die the rest of the group said it was best to call it a night.

We all walked out together, and I pulled Rena aside and asked if she was up for going anywhere else. She was.

We talked a bit and went to karaoke. By this time of the evening, after having had to hold my tongue the entire night amongst people I was extremely uncomfortable with.. I could no longer hold back. I went full catty bitch on our previous company. Rena almost peed her pants laughing at humorous account of the previous events. She said she couldn't have agreed more. We were fast friends.

She's exactly 10 yrs older than me, and definitely what you'd consider a cougar. As much as I don't like that term, she fits it to a tee. But she's fun and funny and gets my humor. I am a little concerned though. We saw a couple young men with their girlfriends. Young men who looked borderline 18-21, and thus too young for me. She remarked that one of them was hot and she could just eat him up. She's a High School teacher. So ... umm.. yeah.