OMG! I *just* found out the drummer is married. No lie, like, 5 minutes ago! Seriously, wtf is wrong with men!!!!
At least I know what to do this time around. It will not be like last time!!!
Good grief.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Making the Band, Part 2
I'm typing as fast as I can!
The Music Man and I quickly moved the "party" to his car, mostly because it was freezing outside, and partly because I'm not a makeout-in-public kind of gal -- even if it is 2:30 am...
The lovely part about the Music Man is that he is indeed a gentleman. I almost didn't recognize his breed as I'd never encountered one in nature before. We shared a few stories and found out that we had two very rare things in common - the religion we were raised and our education backgrounds. Those two things might not sound too exciting except we were both raised in a very charismatic religion that is not usually popular amongst the people I meet. In fact, out of all my college friends, I'm the only one who grew up with these particular branch of Holy Rollers... As for the education coincidence -- we both attended college while in high school and received our AA degrees the same time we graduated from high school.
Things were nice. We were conversing, laughing, bonding, kissing. The whole time I kept thinking, "I knew he would be a nice guy." I still couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to call it a night. The whole Nick & Norah storyline might've worked for Hollywood, but spending the entire night falling in love with a musician-type doesn't happen in real life...
We were just wrapping up the conversation when a pair of extremely bright headlights permeated the darkness. We both turned around in our seats to see a squad car parked directly behind us.
Great. Police harassment. Just what I was looking for to enhance the mood... Things went from "great" to "handcuffs" within 30 minutes. Apparently, sitting behind the wheel of a running car (not moving) and blowing over the legal limit qualifies handcuffs in the cop's opinion...
Since the Music Man blew over the legal limit (which was shocking, actually), the police officer asked me to submit to a handheld breathalyzer test to see if I would be able to drive my company home. Of course, I agreed. I'd only had three glasses of wine, with the last glass being 5 hours earlier.
Imagine my surprise when the cop sneers, "Well, you're not driving either."
Um. Come again?? How is it that I blew over-the-limit?? Basically, there's no possible way. None. But it didn't matter. I pissed the PD off by telling him he was being rude and ridiculous, and I refused to get into his squad car.
He tried to coerce me into the car by telling me he'd arrest me for public intoxication if I didn't get in the squad car. I looked him square in the eye and said, "I wouldn't be in 'public' if you'd left us alone."
That went over well.
I called my sister to come pick us up, and by 4:30 am we were on the road, headed to another state to take the Music Man home. We joked in the car that this situation pretty much bonded us for life.
We parted ways with a hug and a "we'll talk soon." And we did talk 'soon.'
...
The next day I felt terrible about what had happened so I sent him a friend request and messaged him on FB to make sure he wasn't shellshocked... I guess things got worse for him -- he was stranded, needed to make his next gig, and couldn't get ahold of anyone.
So I did what any other human being would do and drove the 45 minutes to pick him up and bring him back to his car. Crisis averted, gig played, ways parted once again.
That was a week ago. So far, the only interaction we've had has been superficial facebook wall postings and that's about it...
Meanwhile, the drummer has extended an invitation to me for "coffee anytime!!" Too bad his brand of religion is in extreme opposition to mine. Alas, it's never easy, is it?
So now I'm stuck with the aftermath of possibly ruining a pleasant beginning. And I feel like a complete jackass for being a "groupie." My question is: why do I feel guilty and like I ruined things? He's an adult -- he asked me to stay and wait for him, and I was *very* clear about what would and wouldn't happen between us.
I have way too much pride to reach out to him and clear the air. Or maybe it's insecurity. Besides, what am I supposed to say, "So, about the whole getting arrested thing... I know we just met and I'm kinda lame for hanging around after hours for you, but wanna grab some coffee sometime?"
*groan*
I'm moving into a convent. STAT!
P.S. I *KNOW* I obsess and think about things way too much. Things just feel very intense to me sometimes. This is one of those times. Feel free to tell me to get over myself and get a grip. Seriously.
The Music Man and I quickly moved the "party" to his car, mostly because it was freezing outside, and partly because I'm not a makeout-in-public kind of gal -- even if it is 2:30 am...
The lovely part about the Music Man is that he is indeed a gentleman. I almost didn't recognize his breed as I'd never encountered one in nature before. We shared a few stories and found out that we had two very rare things in common - the religion we were raised and our education backgrounds. Those two things might not sound too exciting except we were both raised in a very charismatic religion that is not usually popular amongst the people I meet. In fact, out of all my college friends, I'm the only one who grew up with these particular branch of Holy Rollers... As for the education coincidence -- we both attended college while in high school and received our AA degrees the same time we graduated from high school.
Things were nice. We were conversing, laughing, bonding, kissing. The whole time I kept thinking, "I knew he would be a nice guy." I still couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to call it a night. The whole Nick & Norah storyline might've worked for Hollywood, but spending the entire night falling in love with a musician-type doesn't happen in real life...
We were just wrapping up the conversation when a pair of extremely bright headlights permeated the darkness. We both turned around in our seats to see a squad car parked directly behind us.
Great. Police harassment. Just what I was looking for to enhance the mood... Things went from "great" to "handcuffs" within 30 minutes. Apparently, sitting behind the wheel of a running car (not moving) and blowing over the legal limit qualifies handcuffs in the cop's opinion...
Since the Music Man blew over the legal limit (which was shocking, actually), the police officer asked me to submit to a handheld breathalyzer test to see if I would be able to drive my company home. Of course, I agreed. I'd only had three glasses of wine, with the last glass being 5 hours earlier.
Imagine my surprise when the cop sneers, "Well, you're not driving either."
Um. Come again?? How is it that I blew over-the-limit?? Basically, there's no possible way. None. But it didn't matter. I pissed the PD off by telling him he was being rude and ridiculous, and I refused to get into his squad car.
He tried to coerce me into the car by telling me he'd arrest me for public intoxication if I didn't get in the squad car. I looked him square in the eye and said, "I wouldn't be in 'public' if you'd left us alone."
That went over well.
I called my sister to come pick us up, and by 4:30 am we were on the road, headed to another state to take the Music Man home. We joked in the car that this situation pretty much bonded us for life.
We parted ways with a hug and a "we'll talk soon." And we did talk 'soon.'
...
The next day I felt terrible about what had happened so I sent him a friend request and messaged him on FB to make sure he wasn't shellshocked... I guess things got worse for him -- he was stranded, needed to make his next gig, and couldn't get ahold of anyone.
So I did what any other human being would do and drove the 45 minutes to pick him up and bring him back to his car. Crisis averted, gig played, ways parted once again.
That was a week ago. So far, the only interaction we've had has been superficial facebook wall postings and that's about it...
Meanwhile, the drummer has extended an invitation to me for "coffee anytime!!" Too bad his brand of religion is in extreme opposition to mine. Alas, it's never easy, is it?
So now I'm stuck with the aftermath of possibly ruining a pleasant beginning. And I feel like a complete jackass for being a "groupie." My question is: why do I feel guilty and like I ruined things? He's an adult -- he asked me to stay and wait for him, and I was *very* clear about what would and wouldn't happen between us.
I have way too much pride to reach out to him and clear the air. Or maybe it's insecurity. Besides, what am I supposed to say, "So, about the whole getting arrested thing... I know we just met and I'm kinda lame for hanging around after hours for you, but wanna grab some coffee sometime?"
*groan*
I'm moving into a convent. STAT!
P.S. I *KNOW* I obsess and think about things way too much. Things just feel very intense to me sometimes. This is one of those times. Feel free to tell me to get over myself and get a grip. Seriously.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Making the Band, part 1
Warning: This post is long, self-important, and drama filled. You’ve been warned.
I’m happy to report that this has nothing to do with the Patriot. Round of applause, please. I figured most of you thought it was about him when I mentioned needing you to set me straight…
This posting is in fact about a gentleman I’ve never blogged about before. And to be honest, I never had a reason to. Nothing ever happened between us past the initial, “Hi, thanks for coming out. Nice to meet you.” I should probably mention that he’s a musician that frequently performs at my local hangout. I’d seen him occasionally over the past year, before he finally came over and introduced himself. No big. That initial introduction was last September.
Last week, a few girlfriends and I met at the above-mentioned locale for a drink or three. Music Man just happened to be playing that night. My friends all know that I have a huge, HUGE crush on this guy. It’s kinda lame actually. Anyway, I was ultra-cool – just sat at the bar with my girls and had drinks and laughs. Politely clapping at the end of each song, but not really paying attention.
This is when things start to get interesting. After the first set is over, the Music Man sauntered over to say hi. I politely harassed him and informed him that we have indeed met before; to which he replied, “I remember you, but I can’t recall your name.”
So, of course, I acted offended and turned to page 24 of the “How to be Cute & Flirt” guidebook, which prompted me to respond with: “No worries. I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to me…”
And he did. He dedicated the entire next set to me. Awwwww. My friends and I continued our girlfest at the bar, slightly aware of the Music Man the whole time, but still not really giving him any attention.
During the Glam-dedicated set, my two friends bailed on me – one was sick; one had to be up at the crack of dawn for a trip… I really should’ve left with them, but I was determined to stay and see what would happen. Plus, I wasn’t quite ready to drive yet because I had three glasses of wine…
I quickly switched to coffee and chatted up the bartender, when I realized the Glam-dedicated set had ended. I turned around when someone quietly asked me if anyone was sitting in the seat next to me, fully expecting to see Music Man, but no, it was the drummer!
He introduced himself and started a casual conversation with me about this and that as he sipped his coffee. He’s calm. He’s polite. He’s chill. He’s HOT. I’m not fazed in the slightest. Usually, this is the part where I turn into an idiot. But I had my eyes on the prize… how in the world could I land the Music Man if I was hanging all over his drummer??
In the middle of cup of Java #3, Music Man came back over and joined us. Drummer Boy attempted to introduce me as a “really cool girl he just met”, but the Music Man interrupted explaining that we already “know” each other.
The next few hours aren’t really relevant -- The Music Man’s appearance is sporadic – he’s mingling, he’s smoking, etc. But the Drummer Boy never leaves my side during the set breaks. I had been ordering coffee for him towards the end of every set and he would come back over and hang with me during the break.
Two a.m. rolls around and it’s time to close up shop. That’s when it dawned on me that I’m still at the freakin’ bar. What the hell am I still doing at a bar alone at 2 a.m.?? I say my goodbyes to everyone and head for the exit. I had barely reached my car when the Music Man came bursting through the door to say “goodbye.”
All the voices in my head, screaming for me to leave with my dignity, are silenced by an insanely hot makeout session.
I wish I could say that I was fully enjoying it, but in the back of my head the good girl voices were telling me, “don’t be that girl – the groupie…” And honestly, I’m not & I wasn’t that girl, but I really wish I would’ve left right then. Perhaps with a coy goodbye, brief kiss & a phone number exchange, the night would’ve ended on a good note. But it didn’t…
Stay tuned. Part two is scheduled to publish this evening…
I’m happy to report that this has nothing to do with the Patriot. Round of applause, please. I figured most of you thought it was about him when I mentioned needing you to set me straight…
This posting is in fact about a gentleman I’ve never blogged about before. And to be honest, I never had a reason to. Nothing ever happened between us past the initial, “Hi, thanks for coming out. Nice to meet you.” I should probably mention that he’s a musician that frequently performs at my local hangout. I’d seen him occasionally over the past year, before he finally came over and introduced himself. No big. That initial introduction was last September.
Last week, a few girlfriends and I met at the above-mentioned locale for a drink or three. Music Man just happened to be playing that night. My friends all know that I have a huge, HUGE crush on this guy. It’s kinda lame actually. Anyway, I was ultra-cool – just sat at the bar with my girls and had drinks and laughs. Politely clapping at the end of each song, but not really paying attention.
This is when things start to get interesting. After the first set is over, the Music Man sauntered over to say hi. I politely harassed him and informed him that we have indeed met before; to which he replied, “I remember you, but I can’t recall your name.”
So, of course, I acted offended and turned to page 24 of the “How to be Cute & Flirt” guidebook, which prompted me to respond with: “No worries. I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to me…”
And he did. He dedicated the entire next set to me. Awwwww. My friends and I continued our girlfest at the bar, slightly aware of the Music Man the whole time, but still not really giving him any attention.
During the Glam-dedicated set, my two friends bailed on me – one was sick; one had to be up at the crack of dawn for a trip… I really should’ve left with them, but I was determined to stay and see what would happen. Plus, I wasn’t quite ready to drive yet because I had three glasses of wine…
I quickly switched to coffee and chatted up the bartender, when I realized the Glam-dedicated set had ended. I turned around when someone quietly asked me if anyone was sitting in the seat next to me, fully expecting to see Music Man, but no, it was the drummer!
He introduced himself and started a casual conversation with me about this and that as he sipped his coffee. He’s calm. He’s polite. He’s chill. He’s HOT. I’m not fazed in the slightest. Usually, this is the part where I turn into an idiot. But I had my eyes on the prize… how in the world could I land the Music Man if I was hanging all over his drummer??
In the middle of cup of Java #3, Music Man came back over and joined us. Drummer Boy attempted to introduce me as a “really cool girl he just met”, but the Music Man interrupted explaining that we already “know” each other.
The next few hours aren’t really relevant -- The Music Man’s appearance is sporadic – he’s mingling, he’s smoking, etc. But the Drummer Boy never leaves my side during the set breaks. I had been ordering coffee for him towards the end of every set and he would come back over and hang with me during the break.
Two a.m. rolls around and it’s time to close up shop. That’s when it dawned on me that I’m still at the freakin’ bar. What the hell am I still doing at a bar alone at 2 a.m.?? I say my goodbyes to everyone and head for the exit. I had barely reached my car when the Music Man came bursting through the door to say “goodbye.”
All the voices in my head, screaming for me to leave with my dignity, are silenced by an insanely hot makeout session.
I wish I could say that I was fully enjoying it, but in the back of my head the good girl voices were telling me, “don’t be that girl – the groupie…” And honestly, I’m not & I wasn’t that girl, but I really wish I would’ve left right then. Perhaps with a coy goodbye, brief kiss & a phone number exchange, the night would’ve ended on a good note. But it didn’t…
Stay tuned. Part two is scheduled to publish this evening…
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
My Life is a Soap Opera
Where have I been? Why did I not post my Friday weigh-in?
All in good time, my pretties. I need time to pull everything together. It's a juicy story for sure. Plus, I need to purge my soul. So all you opinionated bitches out there get ready to give it to me straight.*
*Be gentle; I bruise easily... *s*
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Fine, thanks! And you?
(my latest obsession -- please notice the points written on the package for quick ref)
I am so disappointed in myself. I binged Sunday. And Monday. Um, and Tuesday. What the shiz happened to my motivation and goals??
I'll tell you exactly what happened. Unlike episodes in the past, this time, there's actually a legitimate medical reason why I completely lost my mind and ate like I'd never experienced food before.
I tried to wean myself off my anxiety and depression meds. Bad idea. Worst idea in the history of ideas. I've never experienced something quite that horrible ever. I felt so disconnected from my body. Stayed in bed until 1 pm on Monday which meant I had to call in sick. Then proceeded to spend the rest of the afternoon crying for absolutely no f*ing reason. Seriously. There was nothing wrong. I genuinely love my life and just about everyone in it.
Sure, I'd like to NOT BE FAT ANYMORE, but it doesn't prompt the waterworks show I produced Monday. So I called my doc and told her to refill my prescription. Less than four hours after resuming my meds, I was sporting a bright, spring-inspired ensemble and giggling with my family instead of lounging outside in my sweats staring off into space.
Maybe some day I won't have to take the medicine, but for now I realize it's part of my life. There's no shame in acknowledging you have a problem and trying to remedy the situation.
Now I'm lumbering back up into the wagon to repair the damage from those cheeseburgers, ice cream, pizza and God only knows what else...
*puke*
Friday, March 06, 2009
Staying the Course
Happy Friday!
This past week has been a whirlwind of activity and exercise. I am such a creature of habit and routine. If I don't have a plan, I feel scattered and ineffective. This past week, I finally went back to yoga AND dance class! I'm thinking I've got a nice varied routine:
Sunday - Power Circuit
Monday - Open for leisurely walks, run, yoga, etc.
Tuesday - Power Pump & Yoga
Wednesday - Open for leisurely walks, run, yoga, etc.
Thursday - Dance class
Friday - gym or fun recreational activities like skating, volleyball, park, etc.
Saturday - Dance class
I am passionate about dancing. I absolutely love it. It's so much fun and such a great workout. My only issue with it is that I'm too hard on myself. If I'm not picking up the routine, I tend to beat myself up. I need to cut myself some slack -- I haven't been to this class in almost a year! Of course, I'm not gonna know any of the routines!
Last week I ate fairly well. I had a few treats here and there, but for the most part, ate very cleanly. My body has finally adjusted to Weight Watchers and I'm no longer starving throughout the day. While my weigh in numbers today weren't quite as impressive as last week, I'm still very pleased and happy to report a LOSS of 1.6 pounds. This is my sweatpants, midol and crazy week too so perhaps I lost more than 1.6; but I'm happy with my efforts and that number.
It's been how many years since I started this blog? I think I'm just now finally on top of the game! Hey, at least I'm still playing the game and haven't given up!
This past week has been a whirlwind of activity and exercise. I am such a creature of habit and routine. If I don't have a plan, I feel scattered and ineffective. This past week, I finally went back to yoga AND dance class! I'm thinking I've got a nice varied routine:
Sunday - Power Circuit
Monday - Open for leisurely walks, run, yoga, etc.
Tuesday - Power Pump & Yoga
Wednesday - Open for leisurely walks, run, yoga, etc.
Thursday - Dance class
Friday - gym or fun recreational activities like skating, volleyball, park, etc.
Saturday - Dance class
I am passionate about dancing. I absolutely love it. It's so much fun and such a great workout. My only issue with it is that I'm too hard on myself. If I'm not picking up the routine, I tend to beat myself up. I need to cut myself some slack -- I haven't been to this class in almost a year! Of course, I'm not gonna know any of the routines!
Last week I ate fairly well. I had a few treats here and there, but for the most part, ate very cleanly. My body has finally adjusted to Weight Watchers and I'm no longer starving throughout the day. While my weigh in numbers today weren't quite as impressive as last week, I'm still very pleased and happy to report a LOSS of 1.6 pounds. This is my sweatpants, midol and crazy week too so perhaps I lost more than 1.6; but I'm happy with my efforts and that number.
It's been how many years since I started this blog? I think I'm just now finally on top of the game! Hey, at least I'm still playing the game and haven't given up!
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