Past, Present and Dating

My past passed through a couple weeks ago. He apologized for everything. His general disposition over the past few years, under-appreciating me, not listening to my words or advice – all of which are proving to be correct. I wouldn’t say it wasn’t nice to hear, but I think at this point it’s kind of unnecessary; but I understand there are certain things certain people need to get off their chests. Another being that he is still trying to get over me and I did that long ago (while we were still living together, putting holes in walls with half-thawed frozen pizzas and breaking doors with my bare hands). I think he had hopes for us reconciling and getting back together, but he admitted he understood it was over now, as he said I looked “younger”.

“Younger?”

He hesitated to say it, than said, “Happy. You look happy.”

And I am. Thank you. I’m not the girl who throws pizzas through walls (though, I assure you, it’s a lot less impressive than it sounds). That girl was created by an entirely unhappy situation she was trying to force into a functioning whole. (See the pun?) I’m moving on; we both have a lot more growing up to do. That chapter is not closed, but altered. The ending is of friendship and love: About two people that spent some time growing together happily and growing apart painfully together, while understanding that life goes on and no one person is to blame. He is learning now everything I suggested when we were together, and I am learning you can't tell a person something, they just have to make mistakes and learn on their own. That’s life. And it goes on.

Speaking of going on (hi, obvious segue), I went on what I’m assuming was a “date” the other Friday night. At 10pm. In a Hyundai. This is the “date” I drunkenly agreed to go on, but had no recollection of saying; just a business card that fell out of my bra in the morning. Anyway, I think I almost died in the car ride to Georgetown, not so much from the specific driving itself, but from the mini-panic-attack his driving induced. That was slightly embarrassing. But, my God, if I’m not the only decent driver in the DMV!

The conversation was decent; realizing were both the youngest of 3 siblings of the same sex – of the same age (odd coincidence), then devolving into movie trivia (yesss!). I confused Boondock Saints with Sleepers…don’t judge me - I had 2 cosmos, 3 vodka tonics and no dinner. After drinks, he dropped me off and used my restroom (leaving the toilet seat up) and we watched Roseanne (sexy!) till 4am. That was it. A few problems though: 1. The toilet seat, 2. The Hyundai (I judge those, Kias and Daewoo’s), 3. Not walking to my left [correction] right [recorrection] left on the sidewalk (a lady should always be protected from traffic when walking on the sidewalk – take notes, boys) 4. He texted me Saturday night at 1am to hang out (smells like a booty call, doesn’t it? Hi, I barely know you = Bad impression and slightly insulting.) 5. Where’s my dinner? I’m not sure if just drinks counts as a date – I polled, people seem to think so, and, 6. 10pm? And this was arranged a few hours beforehand and you squeezed me in after dinner with your friend? Should I be impressed? I’m not. A little planning, a little initiative: I’m pretty stellar --- you didn’t notice? But, at least he opened the car door. If there’s a next time, I’m driving…

Now, who wants to go out on a date and take me for hibachi?! I’ve had a huge craving for like a week and I can’t afford it on my own and, well, let’s be honest, you can’t go to a hibachi place by yourself. That would be the sad story of the week: Attractive, Witty Female Sits Alone to Watch One Man Cooking Show at Table for Ten. Story at 11…

Blërg

My job is irritating me right now. I need stress, I need 800 things to do. I want to do my job, but I'm at a forced stop. (And a few weeks ago I was so busy.) "I don't have time for marketing," says the only other person in the department. ...seriously? Wow.

[bells go off]

That would be fine; I'm capable. Extremely capable, but roadblock...research, work, write...roadblock... stall...stutter... stop... Please, give me a minute, some info, a back-breaking load of work to do - it would make me smile.

Love the flow, hate the ebb.

I have so much more potential than this - but I'm stuck. I can social media and promote they daylights out my niche company, but YOU HAVE TO CLUE ME IN. I'm a PR professional, not an investigative reporter. *sigh*

"I'm gonna go talk to some food about this."

.

BoysBoysBoys

(written in conjunction with previous post)

[BoysBoysBoys]

I’m going to say boys here because I’ve yet to meet a man. Okay, that’s not fair, but fewer. However, to be honest, I’m not really looking, but what I’ve heard about the DC male population is not promising.

I feel like I’m at a county fair and this food all looks really good, but it either tastes like crap or the false promises of aesthetic appeal leads to an upset stomach and general irritation that I wasted $4 on that deep-fried Twinkie adorned with powdered sugar. Fuck the powdered sugar. Give me a tasteless rice cake that fills me.

I used to have this “Guy Qualifications” list. (Shut-up, I was 19!) Guidelines I made after my 2.5 year relationship. Posted to Xanga (Shut-up, I was 19!), my 4.5 year relationship read it and thought it was describing him. It wasn’t. (I mean, it did, but it wasn’t.) Very recently I realized that I must be maturing, as I tossed aside that list for a sudden revelation of the one qualification I will require in an everlasting love: Laughter.

Okay, okay: Brown hair, blue eyes, a college education, motivation, the desire for kids…and laughter. Actually, I might be willing to forgo these things for just the laughter. And non-reciprocated back rubs…and all his folded potato chips.

I realized that what went missing in my past failed relationships was laughter. Samantha Jones, in her infinite totally non-fictional wisdom, once said, “Sex is a barometer for the relationship”. Perhaps, but I think my barometer is laughing – and when I’m happy, all the other good things will follow.

I am grateful for no longer being in a broken relationship and trying desperately to make it work because for some reason maybe I thought it would be easier that way. Now, I would endure 500 heartbreaks to find someone that truly gets me and can make me laugh through my saddest of tears. This will be the man I love eternally.

Someday.

For now, I’m good alone. No worries or fights, no questions to be answered. For now, I’ll entertain the masses…and laugh along the way.

Happy

Back to the post I intended.

For years, I used to describe myself as always laughing. That description is finally becoming suitable again. When I first moved to DC it was extremely difficult. I left everything I knew and basically started over. I went from having family near and multiple circles of friends to having none (except an aunt who lives about an hour away). In a word or two: It sucked. But what goes up must come down – and in life, what is down, comes back up - unless you’re dead.

Now, I’m not uncomfortable with myself or my life anymore; quite the contrary, actually. There is no lie I’m living. I’m broke and I’m struggling financially…and I’m content. I’m independent. I thought it would be so hard to be alone; to have someone next to you nightly for 5 years and to lose it…but it’s not. I crawl into bed proud of myself, my solace. Proud of my independence; proud knowing that I can make a life for myself, by myself and I don’t need anyone else. No In Case of Emergency Contact; just me. It’s just me…and I’m happy.

I’m getting it together. I’m laughing again. And I’m loving every minute of it.

*knock on wood*

Not the Post Intended*, but Thumbs-Up 26

This past weekend I celebrated my birthday. I played some vodka/rum pong with my roommate at home (in which I womped him. Like 4 – 5 cups in a row); I think he won 1 of 8 – and we had 2 O.T.’s, pat on the back. The skills I learned as a teen are coming back. Watch out, bitches!

This unfortunately led to fat face on Saturday night at my birthday thing, as I was out looking for something to wear all Saturday with a lovely new friend and didn’t have time rehydrate. Alas, all I returned with was a new hairdryer from TJ Maxx. But aside from fat face, the evening was a lot of fun – despite the false RSVPs from some folks…the important people were there and made it a good time. (So thanks for that.)

However, towards the end of the night a douche decided to take off his hat and spray people with his sweat by shaking his head. YOU DO NOT SHARE BODILY FLUIDS IN PUBLIC, DUDE. This, to me, was the equivalent of peeing on someone, or bleeding in their eye – so I took it upon myself to let him know. My roommate quickly learned that I don’t really need help with my battles; you 3 boys want to fight me? Really? How good of an idea do you think that is? Have you seen my evil eye? How about my Polish temper or quick wit? Oh, I won? You walked away? Good, go spray someone else with your grossness. That’s just rude; I just wanted to let you know.

Anyway, so a small group of us left at closing and went back to my place to play pong. I remember putting four of us in the back of a cab and that’s it because it was then that the free end-of-the-night shots and the V-8/vodka mix that was pulled by my friend from the bushes outside the bar appeared…then disappeared, kicked in. So, I’m told we played pong – till 5am. Six hours later I wake up and the other three folks who came over decided we would all go golfing – only Always Sunny style – as in drinking wine from a box out of a can, al la Frank’s intervention. I laughed so hard my stomach ached throughout the day.



I needed a day like that. Maybe we all did, because we decided to get wings after, then ninja into a Giant that closes at 10pm at 10pm to get a case of beer to continue the fun at my friend’s apartment which turned into me and the other gal dressing in snowsuits the guys had got from a local thrift shop. (That's normal. People do that, right?) I meant to leave, but I stayed till 7am. Then I went home to get to work by 10am. Only when I went outside, my car was gone. My friend hadn’t put the visitor pass on like I’d thought – so off to the impound we went. Then off to work. That’s one of those days…or weekends…I would happily do over and over – kind of like the one back in June where we impromptu-ly went from one House Party/BBQ to another.

So, so far 26 is off to a good start. I mean, 25 2.0 – a few more weekends like this and maybe 26 and I can be BFF’s…or at least BF365’s.


*Intended Post Forthcoming.

Hello 26.

This month I enter my 26th year of life. I anticipate a wishful year full of self-discovery, self-deprecations, life lessons and clinging on for dear life to my mid-twenties. You're officially here and I'll embrace you, but you're only as old as you feel - and I feel 24...that's close enough. 24 3.0, here I come!

Immature (Aspiring) Politico, A.K.A., Fucking with Public Relations

Dear World, Don't fuck with people who do PR for a living. Also, if you are a company or your name is your commodity, be very kind to them-it will serve you well. You have no idea the power good PR personnel possess (when they want to).

On a very related note, I had the extremely unfortunate experience of meeting a PA State Rep. tonight. It being 4:26am, it was more like an hour ago. You see, I went to the local college's homecoming to the frat of an ex, ex of mine to see friends. Because, also, you see, I used to hang out there junior and senior year of high school (and a little throughout college) so I'm still friends with quite a few of those guys. And being home for the weekend, I dropped by to see them upon request.

Well, afterward some went to Eat'n'Park - mmmm - and as much as I wish now that I hadn't, I joined (but damnit, I love and miss Eat'n'Park). There was an unfamiliar face at the table. After one friend mentioned his first name I put a full name to the face, which I knew from Facebook and the fact that a friend from high school ran against him in the last election.

So let's keep this in mind: A FRIEND OF MINE RAN AGAINST HIM IN A POLITICAL RACE. This I told him, to follow with: I heard you used state money to pay for prostitutes. (Repeat: heard.)This seemed like a ridiculous part of a smear campaign, especially considering this guy had won a second term in office - or is it a third - I don't care because I DON'T KNOW HIM. And I harbored no ill-intent, so I thought maybe he'd get a good chuckle out of it and move on. I was wrong.

This fucking conversation went on...and on...and on...and on. So much so that 1. I started to ignore it 2. I tried to laugh it off 3. I felt bad for the rest of the people at the table 4. Did I mention I tried to ignore it but he wouldn't stop? and 5. I apologized if I hurt his feelings; as it wasn't my intention, as I tried to explain myself (as he cut me off). At this point - I feel I was being the bigger person - okay, evidently I hit a nerve. Although why would someone be so defensive about something if it weren't true? 1. Hello, you're in the public eye, GET USED TO IT; grow a thicker fucking skin, 2. Did I mention I thought this had been in the paper so I wasn't aware it wasn't old news? And 3. To me it had blown over since HELLO, HE WON AGAIN.

Nope. Wrong again. This jackass attacked me for the next hour and unrelenting to my non-responses and sporadic fevered leave-me-the-fuck-alone-about-it responses. Like WOULD. NOT. SHUT. UP. He refused to drop it. He even went so low as to attack my friend his former opposition. Again, I refused to respond and fuel the fire, but he continued unrelenting even as he was walking out the door. I felt like I was fighting with my 5-year-old cousin - if I had a 5-year-old cousin and he was a complete spoiled shit.

So I pose the question, PA, America: These are the kinds people you have voted for, running the country state local areas? And you wonder why we're in a shit situation? Can I tell you (parts of) southwest Pennsylvania, that you have a completely immature, bald-headed, 5-year-old cousin that willingly yells across Eat-n-Park's at 4 in the morning to a person who has already reluctantly apologized just to be able to drop it, representing you in Harrisburg? Because you may want to know that...and rethink your voting strategy.

Oh, and in addition to being a complete dick erratically immature not nice, evidently he is also unaware that paragraphs are suppose to have three full sentences in them. Good blog [link removed] though, dip. And this will be my third for good measure.



P.S. State Rep., You're welcome I didn't mention your name in this so it won't pop-up on searches. Also, you're welcome for the traffic to your "professional" blog that includes incomplete paragraphs complete with images of crass cartoon characters. I hope for the sake of Washington, Beaver and Allegheny counties, they provide a more mature replacement. That, or you grow a pair. Also, your twitter [link removed] lied - you were at homecoming, at least the tail end. Way to focus on that initiative. Perhaps you should hire a good PR person.

[Edit: It was requested that this blog be removed by a friend of the Rep.; it will not. I received an apology from Mr. Rep, which I appreciate but does not make up for how uncomfortable and small I was made to feel - particularly because I made the effort to apologize first and was simply told "I don't like you" in return. However, as a favor to a friend and not the person in question, I will remove the links. I did warn Rep. not to piss off PR people, but this is as far as I will take it on account of my friend and the apology - which I'm certain I would have never received were it not for the power of social media.]