Lone Star state of mind

Texas, you big beautiful state you!

Texas has been a part of my life since before I was born. It’s part of family lore that my paternal grandparents missed my birth because my grandpa was afraid they would hit freezing rain in Missouri on their way to their winter home in South Padre Island Texas. I would bet that they day she died, my grandmother was still pissed about that. I would also guarantee that if he had it to do over again, my grandfather would not have risked freezing rain in Missouri.

Shortly after I was born my grandparents moved to Padre permanently. Sure, I never knew what it was like to have grandparents live in the same town as me, but they lived on a freakin’ island!! How cool is that.  Back in the day there wasn’t much to do at Padre, but I never noticed.  They lived less then a block from the beach and when I was there…which was often…the vast majority of my time was spent on the beach, in the gulf or in the swimming pools at the small condo buildings that lined the beach. Seriously, it was an idyllic experience.

Around the age of 6 I started spending long summers in Padre. Sometimes I flew, by myself–such a big girl, but more often then not I was driven down. My dad and I would hop in whatever vehicle he had at the time and set out for a two day trip that only went through two states. Usually we would stop in Dallas and see a family friend who lived there. I’d swim in the pool or we’d go to another friend’s house for brisket or some other such Texas fare. Then early the next day we would take the long drive to the Island.

I love all the small towns in Texas. They are all so different but are all so similar and are all so….Texas. There was a Dairy Queen we would stop at in some tiny town.  There I would just sit and people watch, even at six, and wonder what it was like to live in such a small town. Sure, Edmond Oklahoma is hardly a booming metropolis, but our streets were streets, not farm roads.  We would drive through King Ranch….which takes forever….and then soon we were in the Rio Grande Valley. So many little random business and so much agriculture. I’ve been a lot of places in this country and none are anything like the RGV. Once I started seeing seashell shops, I knew we were close. We would take that drive along the super tall causeway and I was once again home, or at least in my home away from home. My grandparents and parents would talk shit about Texans and how they acted like Texas was the be all end all, but secretly I think they sort of agreed.  My grandma had a decorative plate that had two angels on it and one of them had a speech bubble over it’s head that said, “And if we are very good, we will go to Texas!”  I have all of her plates…but that one is missing. I so wish I had that plate.

Once I moved to California in 1985, trips to Texas became fewer and further between. Plus I was a teenager and let’s face it, teenagers suck and don’t appreciate anything at the time.  When my grandparents moved to Florida around 1994, my trips to Texas ended. I didn’t even knew I missed them until…

September 2005.  While the gulf coast was still reeling from Hurricane Katrina and anticipating Hurricane Rita, I was on my way to the Austin City Limits festival. When I stepped off the plane in Austin, my love for Texas came flooding back. The smell of breakfast tacos, the live music, sharing a plane with Ray Benson and wishing him luck on getting to the festival on time for his slot. It all was perfect. I dropped my stuff off at the hotel, grabbed a cab to Zilker park and I was off. The natural beauty in Texas isn’t easy for some to appreciate. I, however, am truly enchanted by it.  The scrubby mesquite just standing there against the heat and wind. The long stretches of land untouched by “civilization.” All of it resonates inside of me like few other places I’ve ever been. Austin has the lovely Town Lake, the refreshing Barton Springs and so many trails and byways that it’s easy to forget you are in a city. I spent the next three days sweating and breathing dirt and loving my life more then I knew I could. I didn’t eat, I drank water. I took long showers in the evening to remove the mass quantities of soil that seemed embedded in my flesh. I loved it all. It probably didn’t hurt that the first night we were there my favorite band, Reckless Kelly, was playing at Threadgill’s across the street from my hotel.  I’m not usually one to go solo to a show, but I couldn’t miss it and my traveling companion thought slee sounded like a better option. Then I remembered, you’re never alone at a Reckless Kelly show because RK fans are all friends you just haven’t met yet. Sure, the members of the band aren’t FROM Texas, but the heart of the band is from Texas and that all worked out well in my mind.  The next night I had, what I consider, the ultimate Texas evening. Drove down to New Braunfels in the darkest of nights, ate dinner overlooking the Guadalupe river and saw Reckless Kelly at Gruene Hall. Sweet Jesus, I’ve never been a churchgoer, but if church made me feel like that night did, I would be up bright and early every Sunday morning. Of course, Reckless Kelly doesn’t see many early Sunday mornings, so I think I can keep sleeping in.

My next trio to Texas was for SXSW. Lifechanging trip. Ate the best BBQ of my life at Kreuz’s. Had more fun then should be allowed by law. It was confirmed on this trip that Texas had played and continued to play a huge role in my life.

I’ve only been back once since SXSW in 2006 and that was for a Reckless Kelly live cd recording, obsessed? me? surely you jest!  I was there for 16 hours, but what I 16 hours it was. I made friends that night that I still keep in touch with. We were all part of something super special that night…and I don’t think it could have happened anywhere but Texas.

Lately I’ve been NEEDING to go back. Sure, my best friend since first grade had a baby 8 months ago that I haven’t seen in Chicago. Sure, I never visit my family in Florida. But dammit all to hell I need to go to Texas.  I need to breathe that thick air. I need to shop for random things, and cowboy boots!, in Austin.  I need to drink crappy beer and good liquor with some of the most fun people on the planet.  I need to sit in Zilker park and just think. I need to sit on Town Lake  and drink coffee at Mozarts. I need to roam the stacks in Waterloo. I need some Lone Star time.

I guess I’m kind of a lone star myself. But I hope that, much like Texas, with it’s quiet strength, that there is a nobility with me being a lone star. Texas isn’t about the jerks who act like when you cross out of the state line you lose any reason for living.  Texas is about knowing that when you cross into Texas, you are crossing into a special, stark, beautiful, lush and dry land that has endless opportunities and room for endless heartache.

Don’t mess with Texas! 🙂

Chemistry.com: The Truth

This is not some expose on a online dating site. This is, rather, a more truthful response to the extensive profile I filled out on the aforementioned dating site earlier today.

Who I am and who I am looking for:

I am borderline neurotic. I have a vivid imagination and a tendency to over-share. I can tend to be clingy, but need my space. I feel alone in crowds. I love my dog too much. Sometimes I forget to brush my teeth. I never put away my clean laundry. I like the idea of eating healthy, but eat crap out of convenience. I have pretty blue eyes, and I know it. There is no way for me to have cleavage. I fall down a lot. I laugh way too loud. Sometimes I hold in my sneezes in some weak attempt at femininity.  I enjoy museums and such, but spend large amounts of time watching random reality shows.  I sometimes think people are looking at me in admiration, but in my heart know it’s not true. I relate very well to gay men. Gay men love me. Straight men are much less interested. I sometimes have a horrible time holding up my end of a conversation. I try to be a people pleaser to the point that I either come across as super boring or eventually freak out and spill all the dissenting opinions I’ve been holding in. I was once a registered Republican, but currently am terrified by Republicans in general. I believe in God and think Jesus was probably a cool dude, but, in general, Christians scare the hell out of me. I don’t care what anyone does as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else. Stealing is bad. I drive too fast. I sleep too much. Sometimes I take 3 showers a day. Sometimes I don’t shower for 3 days. I have 2 cats, and am ashamed of that sometimes.  I’ve kissed a girl. I can’t understand why people like me but am crushed if they don’t. I have a philanthropic heart, but a lazy ass. I love gossip. I may want to have children, but probably for all the wrong reasons.  I’m loyal to a fault. I’m nosy. I’m mostly a mess, the wants to be loved.

I am looking for a man. I like dark hair and beards. I want someone who listens to the minutia of my day and can tell which of my two friends named Erin I am talking about without clarification. I like boys who drive trucks. I like smart boys, who aren’t too smart to act stupid.  I want a boy who is more attractive then me, but doesn’t know it. I want a boy who will hold my hand. I want a boy with a healthy sexual appetite. I want a boy who understands the ridiculous nature of porn, but isn’t too “high brow” to enjoy it. I want a boy who cooks, or at least will eat my cooking. I want a boy who loves Nashville, but wants to travel. I want a boy who can hold his liquor….but doesn’t hold on to it too tight or all the time.I want a boy who will get pleasure out of seeing how excited I get at a Reckless Kelly show. I want a boy who thinks it’s great when I want to hang with “my girls” or even better, when I want to hang with “my boys.” I want a boy who knows more about me then anyone else, but still wants to know more.

I’m pretty sure that even if I had forked up the $50 to get an actual subscription to this dating site, had I filled out the form honestly, it would have been $50 down the drain. I’m all for online dating for others, but it just ain’t my thing. I lack the self confidence to open myself up like that and would much rather spend that $50 on shoes.

So there.

Whitewashed Memories

The human mind is a funny thing. It files things away in a seemingly random way and brings memories up out of nowhere. It also seems to have a great editing feature as it will often change the memories to only show the good (or sometimes bad) in a person or situation.

This past weekend, the “good” edits have been in full force for my subconscious and particularly in my dreams. For four nights in a row I have had the strangest dreams about a former “flame.” The dreams have been more memories then the fantasy situations that normally entertain my sleeping mind. However, these memories have been edited, some quite drastically, to only recall the good. They have been so well edited that I have been anxious to go to sleep in hopes the dreams would be there waiting. I’ve been fighting waking up because I knew, once I did, the dreams, like the person they were about, would be gone.

We first met in the spring of 2007. At a Marine base. The day after he got out of the brig. Dubious timing is a forte of mine. A friend had been dating a Marine for awhile and she thought it would be great if we all dated Marines. I reluctantly agreed to go with her, and one of our other friends, to Camp Pendleton for the evening. I didn’t dress up. I didn’t “do” my hair. I just went because I had nothing better to do.

If you’ve never been on a military base, as was the case with me at the time (for the record, I had dated military before, but they were on ships) it is a foreign place. I used to joke that there was a different climate at Camp Pendleton because of all the testosterone, but seriously, it’s different there. It is strange because all of the places are familiar (buildings, fast food places, etc) but when all combined and placed on this area that is dominated by males, it makes for an odd mix. Once we cleared the gates, I was sure there was nothing there for me.

It is a well known fact that I am bad at noticing people flirting with me and that I tend to “try” to flirt with people who have no interest in me. This used to bug me. I’ve learned to deal with it. My first (and only) night at the ‘E Club’ (enlisted men’s club) was no different. I don’t remember any details about the boy who had my attention that night, but I do recall that I didn’t have his attention. I’m pretty sure, in my mind, that confirmed my suspicions that there was no one there I would have anything in common with. I had been ignoring the boy, all dark eyed and charming, who was buying me drinks and asking me questions all evening. It wasn’t until we went back to my friend’s boyfriend’s barracks and this fella joined us that I even acknowledged his existence. My other friend had met someone and had disappeared, promising to pick us up in the morning (as she was our ride) so it was just the four of us, hanging out, being silly, doing nothing.

It soon went from a foursome to two duos as he and I were no longer aware of anyone else in the small, sparse room. He asked if I wanted to go for a drive. I did. We drove and drove and talked and talked. We went back to his room and talked some more. He’d lived an interesting life. He explained why he had gone to the brig. He talked about what he wanted to do in the future. We finally had talked so much that we couldn’t talk anymore and well, we made out. I remember details about that night like they were yesterday. 

He asked for my number, promised to call. I gave it to him and didn’t have any expectations of him calling. He called later that day. He explained that he was on this ridiculous 24 hours on 24 hours off schedule. He wanted to see me as soon as possible, but didn’t know when he would be able to make the 82 mile trip North to take me out. I told him I’d figure something out. I did.

So it began, 6 months of requesting work schedules around his days off.  Driving up and down the 405 countless times. Late night calls from him to help him make it through those last few hours of his 24 hour shift. Getting up at 5 am to get to base by 7 am when he would be getting off work. Waking up in his room at 6 am so he could get back to work and so that I could get out of there before the Commanding Officer caught me. (He did catch me once, we had a nice talk. He like Michael a lot and thought he just wasn’t made for the Marines. He said I wasn’t like the normal “barracks bunny” and said he’d turn a blind eye to my presence, as long as I kept a low profile) It was, in many ways, an exciting time. 

These are the memories that are popping up in my dreams. The look on his face when I would walk up the long sidewalk to the barracks. The serenade he coordinated for me one day, with 10 Marines singing “Pretty Woman” to me from the catwalk. The picnics we would take on the beach. Picking strawberries. The way his skin tasted like cantaloupe. The way his big dark eyes could see right into my heart. The way that his touch sent shivers through every cell of my body. The physical attraction that we had that almost scared me, it was so strong. Talking about our dreams and our future and feeling that those dreams and futures would be achievable as long as we were in each other’s lives. We talked about me going home with him to Louisiana once his discharge was final. He talked about me to his mom. He met my mom. He would switch days so he could have 2 days off in a row and come up and see me. We played house at my Dad’s place when he was out of town. He cooked me gumbo.

What doesn’t seem to pop up in my dreams is his random tantrums. Never would these be directed at me, but his fiery temper was terrifying to witness. He once found out that a friend of his had hung out with me alone in his room and beat the crap out of the guy, in front of me. He found out that his discharge was going to take a lot longer then he had been told and he punched a hole in the wall. He would disappear for a few days here and there and no one really knew where he went. Since he didn’t have much interaction with others in his job, the only thing that anyone could ever confirm was that he had gone to work, which meant he was alive, but no one knew where he was other then that. His roommate would call me asking where he was. I would call his roommate asking where he was. No one knew. He wouldn’t talk about where he had been, but he was always slightly different when he re-appeared. As time progressed he went from accusing me of smothering him to accusing me of not caring enough about him. His drinking increased. The good times became fewer and farther between, but when times were good, they were SO good. These, apparently, are the memories that I am really holding on to. In a lot of ways, I find no reason to remember the bad. I remember the things I learned from those bad times, but I think it would be fine to forget the details.

Michael and I saw each other from time to time after I moved to Nashville. He was on the road a lot and when he came through town we would see each other. We rarely spoke of the past. We never talked of a future. It was all about the present when we were together because we, or at least me, understood that the present was the only guarantee there was for the two of us.

A couple of years ago he showed up at my place unannounced, as he normally would. He was going to be in town for a month or so for some training. We saw each other pretty regularly. We never went out. I never introduced him to my friends. I never even told them he was here. An opportunity for him to move to Nashville had arisen. The discussion about that was not a pleasant one. The actions that followed that talk made me fully aware that I no longer wanted him in my life, for any reason, for any time.

So here I am, two years since I have laid eyes on him. I have moved and he doesn’t know where I live now. I got rid of my land line so he has no way to call me. Yet, I have these dreams. These wondrous dreams. Dreams filled with good times, and sweet gestures and a certainty about the world. I guess I’ll keep the dreams and these whitewashed memories. There’s enough negative things in the world that I don’t need to hold on to more that has no effect on my current life. So, Michael Andrew Gonzales, wherever you may be, we’re cool. I don’t want to ever see you in my awake life, but if the visits to my sleeping life stay the way they have been, you’re welcome any time.

What’s on my mind today.

  1. a certain friend who is being distant these days. When I ask them about something in particular they indicate that I don’t know what’s going on with their world right now and when I point out that the inquiry was attempting to remedy that precise situation, they say nothing.
  2. an email a friend sent me the other day about “farting strawberries” that continues to make me laugh out loud.
  3. how men can walk into the bathroom with a cup of coffee or other beverage in their hands and do their business. Even if they put the cup on the counter, who knows what kind of “spray” is floating around there. My office is across from the men’s room and I have offered my desk, etc…as a storage spot for beverages. Not nearly enough of them have taken me up on this offer.
  4. sometimes I think that I don’t express aspects of my personality and interest correctly. For example, I love to go to art shows, etc….but I think most people think I’m just a bar type gal.
  5. in addition to art, I also enjoy this immensely. If only I could roller skate and was at all a bad ass.
  6. I want attention from boys, but I don’t want to have to ask for it. Wait, correction, I want attention from certain boys.
  7. most people don’t get me. It’s not that I’m all complicated or anything, I think people just don’t know what to make of me a lot of the time. I guess it makes sense since I don’t know what to make of myself a lot of the time. Perhaps I need to find more folks who are willing to come along for the ride.
  8. There is a boy/man in my office whose hair I want to run my fingers through. In a meeting yesterday I could vividly imagine myself reaching across the table and doing just that. I even think my arm twitched a bit in an effort to move my imagination into reality.
  9. I can’t wait to move into my new place, but HATE packing.
  10. If I look just to the right of my monitor I see my Tim Gunn bobblehead and a chair that has one of my old bridesmaid dresses and a box with a broken piggy bank in it.
  11. My hair needs to be colored in the worst way.
  12. Everyone keeps coming in and “borrowing” my flavored coffee creamer. Whatever.
  13. There is a member of my family who is dying. This person has done terrible things and has pretty much ruined a segment of my family. However, they have recreated themselves for people who don’t know the “other stuff” and those people are completely devastated at the idea of the loss. I feel bad for the people who are able to live in ignorant bliss about this person.
  14. I miss my girlfriends in Cali. like crazy. Recently I’ve just wished it was like 9 years ago and we were all ruling the music department at a So Cal Borders with caustic wit and more estrogen then you can shake a stick at. The best part is that, even though we don’t see each other very often (and I see them the least of all) I know that they will always have my back and I will always have theirs.
  15. I really wish the damn IT guy would come load iTunes on my computer!!!!
  16. cupcakes again……
  17. my dog
  18. how my March madness bracket could have gone SO badly. However, not badly enough for me to be in last place in the work pool, where I would at LEAST get my $10 back!

Ok–that’s all. My mind has just stopped suddenly. I will now go watch the clock countdown until I will leave the office and go to the bar to play some trivia and drink some vodka…..but seriously, I do like art 🙂

Failed attempts at eloquence

I have the urge to write tonight.

I want to write lovely words.

Thoughtful words.

Words to inspire.

Words that reflect who I am and who I want to be.

However, the only thoughts that come to mind are the fact that involve a “trip to South America” (aka, the horrors of a Brazillian wax) and the fact that I enjoy “playing the skin flute” and would like to have a recital soon.  Really, it’s true, all thoughts seem to be about genitals, mine as well as others.  Access to them, conditions of them, fun with them.  I’m usually not one to focus so much on the “nether regions” but this seems to be the theme for the day as of late.  It may be out of sexual frustration or some hormonal surge.  It may be that I am turning into a teenage boy.  I don’t know what it is or where it came from. I don’t really care that these thoughts consume my mind, but it is simply hard to be an intellectual when all you can think of is “cooch-a-nannies” and “joysticks.”

Mature….I know.

Viva La Reckless!

I would never be able to call any musician or band my absolute favorite…but if I had a gun to my head the first band that would come to mind (and would be pretty much as close to the truth as I could come to answering that question) would be Reckless Kelly.

My first time seeing them was at the dreaded Bluebird Cafe in Nashville.  A room where you can’t talk without being rudely “shushed” and where “rocking out” is not on the menu!  But it didn’t matter. I loved them about 2 minutes into the set. It doesn’t happen very often with me, to have an instant connection to a band that I have no real prior knowledge of.  But it happened that night.  I knew off the bat that these guys were the real deal. That they LOVED what they do.  That they have a good time with each other. That the lead singer is T-R-O-U-B-L-E!  All of this was before I even realized that there were brothers in the band. I am a sucker and a half for bands with brothers in them. Not sure why…but oy!  Those Braun genes got some good mojo and I was instantly a fan. That was in 2004.

2005 saw my love for them move into “superfan” world….sort of. They played a show on Feb. 13 here in Nashville at Third and Lindsley.  It was two days before “Wicked Twisted Road” was coming out, but I had already procured an advance copy.  Micky and the Motorcars (yet ANOTHER Braun brother band) opened and it was a much more rocking, much more “Reckless” show. If there was any question I was hooked…that question was answered when I came out of the ladies room, ran into Cody (whom I had briefly met earlier) and he gave me a hug and asked if I liked the show. Hugs from musicians are pretty much like crack to me.  Add to that the fact that he seemed to genuinely be concerned that I enjoyed the show and it was all over. I was Reckless to the core.

The rest of 2005 was amazing. I saw them 9 times in 5 different states. I got to know Cody better and meet the rest of the band.  I learned all their songs, even favorite covers. I made friends with other fans. It was great! Becoming a RK fan is like joining a family….it’s pretty amazing.

2006 wasn’t nearly as Reckless a year.  I only saw them play once, although it was THE show to be at, the live recording at La Zona Rosa.  I was in Austin for a total of 16 hours that trip. I ended up at the infamous “Shed” after the show where I stayed and had one of the best times of my life until about 5:45 AM when I had to go catch my flight home.  That year definitely goes into the “quality vs. quantity” world.

2007, in the life of me, opened with a bang. I got a new job, a new dog and an email from Cody that the band was coming through town on the way to a show and inviting me to hang out.  They did, I did, a GREAT time was had by all.  It wasn’t as wonderful as a show, but time with the Brauns is always good.  This brings us to this past weekend. It took them over 2 years, but those boys got themselves back to Nashville to play a show.  They were playing the Exit/In, a venue they had played countless times.  I got my tickets early, just in case and started counting the days. Once I was able to buy milk that had an expiration date after the date of the show I started getting REALLY excited.

Saturday night arrived and I could hardly contain myself.  As we’re waiting in line it was announced that the show is sold out!  While a part of me was thrilled and oh so proud, I was concerned about the friend I had with me who didn’t have a ticket.  Luckily the guy working the door likes me and he let her in.  Then the real excitement began.  The opener, Stoney LaRue, was good.  He even has the same mouth as the boy who has me twitterpated. But, unfortunately for him, he only represented an obstacle between me and my Reckless boys. His set ended and the torture truly began.

The period of time between the opener and their set was like excruciating foreplay.  You’re all hyped up and excited and feeling good, but dammit all to hell, you just want to get down to business. After maybe 40 minutes of this, on walked the band! For lack of a better word, and to keep with the metaphor of sex, the next two hours were like the best sex ever. The best sex ever with LOTS of orgasms! I didn’t care about the drunk girl next to me who looked like she was going to puke at any time. I didn’t care that I was sweating like a crazy person. I didn’t care about anything except those 5 boys on stage and the music they were making. I get completely mesmerized by them.

After the show I got to briefly hang out with Cody before my hunger and tiredness forced me to go home.  That time with him was like post-coital snuggling.  Lots of smiles and happy talking and praise for performance.  Promises that this needs to happen again, sooner rather then later, and lack of desire to leave each others presence.

When I finally woke up on Sunday, I was still smiling. My hair smelled of the smoke from the show and I wasn’t quite ready to get rid of it. I didn’t want to wash the stamp off my hand that had allowed me to drink. I didn’t want to forget any minute of the show. I wanted to live the night all over again.

I feel sorry for people who never feel this way about a band, or anything. An all encompassing thrill derived from watching someone doing what they love and supporting and appreciating every second of it.  I feel sorry for people who never know how much a band they loves appreciates them, let alone gets to hear it first hand. Mostly I feel sorry for me because I don’t know when my next Reckless Kelly show is going to be.

Not really, there’s no crying in Reckless-land!

VIVA LA RECKLESS!!!!!

A Brief Accounting

Here is a brief list of my faults, issues, and confessions. There is no way in the universe that I would ever be able to list all of them, but here are the ones that seem to be causing me the most trauma lately.

  • I fear commitment
  • I fear being lonely
  • I like the wrong boys for the wrong reasons
  • I have big pores
  • I have a tendency to want people to like me so much that I don’t actually let them get to know the “real” me
  • I feel too much
  • I think too much
  • I eat chips and dip for breakfast sometimes
  • I don’t always brush my teeth twice a day
  • I wear my contacts for days on end when I am not supposed to
  • I love my pets too much
  • I REALLY love my dog too much
  • I’m self-centered
  • I can be self-destructive
  • I take insults well
  • I take compliments horribly
  • I don’t speak up for injustice because I still believe that people are doing the best they can with the information they have at the time
  • I have no tolerance for stupidity
  • When people say “Do what?” instead of “pardon me” “what was that?” or even “huh?” I want to scream
  • I bite my fingernails
  • I don’t like to clean my kitchen
  • I rarely put away my laundry
  • My good intentions outnumber my good deeds exponentially
  • I expect return phone calls
  • I have no problem sleeping with someone on the first date
  • I have dozens of pairs of shoes and handbags
  • There are 5 handbags in my possession that I have never used
  • I let my dog kiss me on the mouth (mouth closed!)
  • I’m easily entertained
  • I’m easily discouraged
  • I start lots of things that I never finish
  • I get ridiculously happy in the presence of musicians
  • I fear clowns, little people and lawn work
  • I put on a brave face when I want to cry
  • I spent so much of my life trying to not talk too loud that I now get accused of talking too softly
  • I sleep in my clothes more often then anyone with an actual home and actual pajamas should
  • I still believe in fairytales
  • If it wouldn’t make me sick I would only eat appetizers and desserts and only drink Tropicana Light Lemonade or Vodka Tonics
  • I like to get drunk….even if I sometimes fall down
  • I have a list of boys that I want to “lick from head to toe”–it’s a VERY short list and easier to get off then get on
  • I have a freakishly short tongue
  • Sometimes I would rather sit at home alone on Saturday night then go out with actual people
  • If I stay at home alone on Saturday night instead of going out with actual people, I will be pissed at myself about it on Sunday
  • I still draw on myself from time to time, but now I call it “tattoo research”
  • I want better cleavage
  • I rarely make my bed
  • I can’t find the right lipstick color
  • I need something to wear to the agency anniversary party
  • I’m more excited about the open bar at the anniversary party than Ricky Skaggs performing
  • I need a date to the anniversary party—ok, I don’t NEED one, I want one, one particular one.
  • I obsess over boys
  • I quote song lyrics a LOT!
  • I have an oral fixation
  • I want to go canoeing again, with pretty much the same exact people and a whole bucket full of new knowledge
  • I need new panties
  • I have bouts of insomnia and bouts of “whatever you call it when all you do is sleep, but not because you are depressed or physically exhausted”
  • I’m not participating in “Hands on Nashville Day” because I don’t want to be too tired to raise hell with my buddies Reckless Kelly that night
  • I still haven’t finished Harry Potter book 4 and it’s making me want to abandon the series all together
  • I’m tired of listing my faults

Twitterpated

I am currently completely, 100%, ridiculously twitterpated.

I’ve got it bad!  There are other boys in my world that I find attractive, but they all fall short of one person.  I see a vehicle like his and I get happy in my pants.  I think of him and well, all other thoughts go away.  I have known this person for quite some time.  I’ve never thought of them like this before.  For whatever reason, a few days ago, a switch got flipped in my head and it’s all different now.

I’m trying very hard to not be too much different towards this OH SO FINE fella, but adding a little more flirting to the mix.  Of course, it has been said that I’m flirty all the time…so will he “get it?”  We’ve always had a flirtatious friendship, but now it feels more “meaningful” when I flirt with him. I look back on all the times we have spent together and they all seem different.  They are reflected in a mirror that has some sort of “lust filter” on it. Countless times we have fallen asleep together, snuggled on the couch often times holding hands….and I thought nothing of it. Many times he is the last voice I hear at night, and only lately has that seemed to be a big deal to me.

This person is one of the rare males in my life that I only smile when I think about them.  I don’t feel weird when we don’t talk for weeks at a time, wondering if we’re still friends. When I see him and I don’t know he’s going to be there, my face HURTS from smiling so hard. I never feel awkward around him (although I wonder if that will change) and he’s always complimentary and protective and sweet.  He picks up many tabs and opens doors and makes sure I get to my car and home safe.  He teases me and I never feel the least bit hurt, I always know his teasing is out of love.  I can see him with other girls and I don’t ever question my place in his world. He brings out a confidence in me that few others do.

So, what’s the problem?  Well, I hate to admit it, but I’m pretty sure it’s me.  I fear that I am afraid (can you be afraid to be afraid?) that I will have this man in my life in a different, more romantic role and I will get hurt.  Then if I get hurt there, will I lose my dear friend?  Alone I understand, lonely still gets me, but alone I’m good at.  I say that I am independent, but it’s a defense mechanism.  I’m independent because I am so afraid that the second I rely on someone, they will be gone.  Abandonment issues much?  I’m afraid that if I share too much of myself, something they don’t like will come up (although this person has seen me in some bad times and never skipped a beat). I want so much to just lay it all on the line for this guy, just give my heart to him lock, stock and barrel…but what if he doesn’t want it?  I can’t keep throwing my heart around like a snowball.  Have you ever played catch with a snowball?  It takes some hard packing skills and the other person has to be in on it 🙂  Well, as you throw the ball back and forth, the snowball gets smaller and smaller.  It also gets harder and more painful if it hits you.  The last thing I want is to end up with some tiny, icy rock of a heart. But if I don’t throw it out there, won’t it just melt in my hand?

I can’t remember the last time I felt even remotely like I do about this person. Even the person who had custody of my heart for a long while most recently (not that he wanted it) never made me feel like this. I’m happy.  I’m happy knowing that I share a universe with this person and that when our paths cross, only good will happen. I have friends who are pushing for me to pick up the pace a bit, but I can’t say that I really want to. This place we are at, wherever it is, puts a smile on my face, occupies my mind to the point of distraction…and let’s not forget, makes me happy in my pants.

A quandry

It has been said to me about a million times that a girl can have sex anytime she wants to. As a female, I don’t feel this to be true. I understand the power of the uterus (I know…it’s more the boobs…but whatever) I’ve had many a free drink, a jar opened, a box carried and even gotten out of some traffic tickets because I am a girl.  But I cannot, for the life of me, think of a time when I was wanting the sex and felt confident enough to just go out and get it.

OK fellas, let’s set a scene. It’s a bar. You’re hanging out, playing trivia or darts or just sitting there drinking.  You’ve been chatting to a lady for awhile, good conversation, things in common, little bit of flirtatious behavior, the usual. Perhaps this person is a friend. Perhaps you just met. The night is winding down and she says “Hey, I’ve had fun with you tonight and would like that to continue (or something similar)” and then bats her eyelashes or something like that.  Do you think “awww yeah!” or “shit….she wants to date me” or even worse “dang ho….I’ll hit that…but you are Slutty McSkankerson and I will probably never talk to you again.”  Or what if the girl just kind of moves in closer and plants one on ya? What would you do/think then? 

Is this forward behavior attractive or repulsive? Do you have any respect for the girl who simply has a desire for sex with a man and is willing to go after it? Will you just make out with a girl for awhile because it’s fun to make out? Are these questions proof of our evolution, or precursors to our demise?

I’ve got questions people. I need answers. I need to get my hands on a boy.

If anyone asks

If anyone asked me what I wanted to do tonight I would know exactly what I would say.

  • First off, I would like to be with a boy.  I have some boys in mind and any one of them, or others of their ilk would work.
  • I’d like to hang out.  Maybe have a cocktail, but not get plastered.  Grab a bite–sure, but not necessary.
  • We would eventually end up at one of our places of residence. Sitting on a couch (loveseats work, heck, a futon is fine.) We would chat about stupid things that make us laugh.  Occasionally revealing little insights into each other’s minds, beliefs, desires, etc…
  • At some point we would hold hands. I would play with his fingers, enjoy the manliness of them, all while continuing to talk, or just sitting there in silence.  Never discussing the hand holding…that’s the best part.
  • The culmination of this evening would not be bumpin’ nasties (which is my current favorite term for intercourse) Some smoochy smoochy, that’ll work.  The majority of clothes would remain on. 
  • It would become too late to go home, so it would be decided that we should just crawl into bed. I want to sleep with the breath of someone else occasionally blowing past my neck.  With the warmth of another person mixing with mine. I’d even share a pillow…and I don’t like to do that.
  • In the morning, we would wake up and it wouldn’t be awkward or uncomfortable, it would be good. Good-byes would be said. Hugs would be shared and we’d start off our Friday in a good mood.

That is what I would like to do tonight.  If someone asked me I would probably say, “Oh whatever.”  But the above is what I would mean.  Seriously.  SERIOUSLY!