The second verse is different from the first.
There were many happenings this weekend causing me to say: “I’m blogging this.” So, to prevent me from becoming an even bigger liar than I already am (more on that later) I am now blogging this.
Friday night I stayed in to catch up on laundry and cleaning. I just needed a quiet night. Turns out I wasn’t the only one with plans for staying in as the upstairs neighbors needed a not so quiet (read: had jack rabbit sex for many hours) night. The funniest thing about this whole affair (besides the fact that when they finished I needed a cigarette too) was that the noise in earnest started just as my roommate came home. I am sure that she thought that the headboard pounding, bed-frame squeaking, hydraulic jack rhythm was all me. I kind of had a giggle about the situation, but wished I were the one getting so lucky. This is a new development from upstairs so I wasn’t too bothered.
Saturday morning was going to be my morning to sleep in but that was not to be as my roommate started vacuuming at 8:30. It’s like she’s trying to make me hate her even more (If you’re crazy and you know it clap your hands).
Saturday night I went to an Irish pub where there was some live music. About 12 of us met up for dinner and drinks and then the duo with fiddle and guitar came on for our listening pleasure. Pretty typical Irish pub music etc, etc. But the star of the evening was this 76-year-old woman who joined the band for a song while she accompanied them with her KAZOO. Yeah, she even had it on a rope around her neck. There was a moment when the singer was all: “Take it away Mrs. D” and she totally rocked out. She got down, she got funky, she showed us young’ins how to do it (whatever “it” was, I mean she was playing the Kazoo).
Sunday morning I was up and out supper early because the upstairs bunny rabbits were at it again at 8:00. I have never been so tired (and horny) in my entire life. They had a three-fer in 1.5 hours. They must be college kids. Considering that I was already awake, I got my shit together and headed out the see my Gramcrackers. She was her usual cantankerous self. She opened a puzzle (“broke the seal on the plastic bag, I did”) and got about 75% done to find that there were at least 40 pieces missing from the middle of the puzzles (“son of a bitch!”). She decided to remedy the situation by writing a note to the company (“I’m mailing this puzzle back to them in a bag, because I’m not paying for the postage that the box would require, and challenging them to make this puzzle their damn selves.”). She’s kind of an evil (cheap) genius.
If I know anything, the reward for all her evil (cheap) genius behavior will be a free puzzle from the company, which will be well received because then she’ll have something to do while she plots her next move against American corporations.
Sunday night was date number two with Video Man. He was perfectly nice (and the right kind of nice, the nice I want to date) and I hope to see him again, but I suspect that I won’t. I am attracted to him. I find him funny, smart, engaging, entertaining, and interesting. Yet, at the end of the date I get a rather chaste kiss. Not on the cheek, but still, there is almost no passion, desire, or lust in the kiss. It’s sad because just like I can tell when men want to fuck me, I can also tell when men don’t want to fuck me. Maybe I am reading this entirely wrong, this could be a reserved, shy type who takes his time, but still, I can normally tell. I mean besides the kiss there was very little contact between us, no hand holding, none of that touching when you like someone, he never does any of the things that generally indicate that someone finds someone (me) attractive.
The funny thing about the date was the fact that I drag him to a hotel lobby bar across the street from a music venue where a co-worker will be playing later in the evening. I thought that it would be convenient, so I find us a corner table where we can watch the traffic and we decide on food and drinks. I tell him I’ve been to the bar only a few times before and play down the number of times I’ve been there (it’s a bit of an odd place for a 26-year-old to be hang on a school night). No sooner do I finish saying all this, does the waitress come up and says, “Oh hey, welcome back.” She turns to my date and says, “This is her favorite table, she always sits here and gets the same drink. She always says that we make it better than anyone else in town, and considering she’s had it from at least three different bartenders…” At this point I just start laughing and when the waitress walks away he just looks at me and starts laughing. I was totally busted. It was like she was standing behind me taking notes on what I had just said and contradicted every word out of my mouth.
Great, second date and he thinks I am a big fat liar. It was so funny (not really) but just one of those things.
So I am waiting on date number three (if he asks). If I get the same good night kiss (and lack of contact) I am just going to suggest that we be friends, I will use the “It’s not you, it’s me” line and be done with it. I think that ultimately he and I will be good friends, if nothing else, as we have so many similarities and commonalities. Such is life. It’s just a shame to finally find the right kind of nice guy only to have him not feel something for me.
EDITED TO ADD: Recently had an email convo. with Video Man.
Of course I am going to include my response, and by the way, because you’ll be wondering, he’s 39 years old.
Which led to a comment from him about my fuckableness (so not a word, but work with me) and a comment from me about how kind it is that he noticed.
So this is Monday. I am leaving work exactly at 5 and going straight home to nap. I need to catch up on my sleep.