The List

I think this is a topic that has been pretty well covered in the media. Everyone's got one, even Barney Stinson. Okay, especially Barney Stinson. (By the way, How I Met Your Mother is not always the funniest show, but at least there's Neal Patrick Harris. Worth it.)
It's not necessarily the people you sleep with. I wouldn't post that, that would be tacky. Also I'm a virgin.
(Pause for laugh track)
The list I'm specifically talking about is your list of types.
The cliche guys (Or gals. God knows there might be some man somewhere reading this, hoping to pick up on some tips. Good luck.) you found yourself romantically (Or genitally) entangled with.

My List:
The Nerd - Oh my god he's so nerdy. But so smart. And also so grateful to touch your boobs, even if he's grappling around with them like they're game controllers. 
The Asshole - Sure, for two seconds at that bar he seemed nice. But now he's hitting on that girl. Your waitress.
The MindFuck - Wait, you thought you were winning this argument. He didn't come home until 3 in the morning, why are you apologizing? Yeah, of course someone just gave him those condoms you found. Wait... What is HAPPENING?!
The Nice Guy - Nice guy, why are you so nice? At first it was really... nice. But now it's just boring.
The Great on Paper - Everything about this guy is awesome! He works for an airplane company! He builds airplanes! He owns stock! He is in awesome shape with awesome facial hair! ... And there is absolutely no chemistry.
The Military Guy - He's on time, treats you like a lady and wants to drop money on you. Drawbacks? He voluntarily owns guns and enjoys it.
The Funny Guy - Oh, he's funny. Very funny. Someday you'll probably have a serious conversation. 


And of course there's always the guy that fits into a couple categories. But I prefer to fit people into tiny cliche boxes and label them. It's more fun that way.
What's your list?
I asked Seth, and he gave me incredibly cliche titles for women that's he's encountered. So very successful, in other words.
Seth's List
The Scenester
The Party Girl
The Prude
The Ditz

Newsflash, no one says ditz anymore. We say "Kim Kardashian," or "dumb ass bitch". No just kidding. We say Snooki, obviously.
I am none of those things he listed, so apparently I'm not included in people he's dated. Though we are "casually dating"? Whatever that means. Once you try and define things, things get all messy and weird.

It sounds to me like he has dated a lot of "crazy" people. I sometimes balk at men that have a long history of putting up with insane women, because it seems like there's something wrong on their end. Endless patience, or just an inability to find a normal person?

Hello, attractive lower halves. 

I'm Much Too Young To Be This Insane

I have been thinking a lot lately, for no reason at all other then obvious ones, about falling in love.
I think too much. I know that. But how can you tell yourself to not think about something? Especially if that something is thinking itself!
Okay, I can see I'm getting a little too deep for you. 
Let me lay it out here.
The things I've been thinking about.
Love:
How do you know it's there?
Are you supposed to be hit with it? Like a train, or a bus or other things people use to violently describe the feeling of love? 
If I broke up with boyfriends that I said 'I love you' to, was I actually not really in love, since we broke up?
Is this "love" bullshit actually created by the media and only exists in television and movies and is only intended for people like Hugh Grant and Sandra Bullock? 


I would always ask my ex boyfriend, "Why do you love me?" In a whole, desperate sad girlfriend way.
"Chemicals in my brain! Hormones and pheromones," he would say, kissing me on the top of my head on his way out the door. My love for him felt desperate and tangled, mixed with a lethal dose of anxiety and passion. 
So that was sweet. 
To my other ex boyfriend I would ask the same question, and he would tell me a different thing every night. My love for him felt warm and comfortable, and sometimes spread through my chest and shoulders like a blanket when he touched me. 


I don't know what love is, or what it is supposed to feel like. It feels to me right now like love is made of compromise. I don't date smokers, but he is incredibly funny. I don't date short guys, but he likes to read.
Full of things you don't like, mixed with things you've always wanted. 
When you find love, do all the pieces fall into place and that person is perfect? Or do you just not care about those little things you hated because... I don't know!


My boss at work is awesome, and she and her husband love each other very much. When I asked her how she knew that she was going to marry him, she said,
"After two weeks, I knew that if I spent more time with him and actually dated him, I would never leave him. We would get married." 
That is an example of the hit by a train love. That actually exists for people!
My mom and dad have been married about 30 years. They are the perfect couple. I have only heard them fight once, that I can remember. My mom loves my dad more then herself and vice versa. Sometimes they meet for dinner and they're wearing the matching outfits. It's disgusting. 
My mother on my dad:
"I didn't think I was going to marry him, no."
So that's comforting! 
How did you know you wanted to marry Dad then?
"I guess because I couldn't imagine being without him."


I know I shouldn't even think this much about it. I'm 23, it's not like I want to get married tomorrow. But I have always been so curious. So, so curious about everything. And incredibly impatient to boot.
And now it's like, I want to experience this thing, but it's not like sky diving, or sushi. You can't just order it.
I want to know how it feels, I want to know what I am like in love. I want it to color my day and my being a bright yellow. 
Is this going to be like college, where the entire time I was stressed out, and tired and having the time of my life without realizing that it was the time of my life?
Is being single right now going to be like that?
Should I not be in a relationship just for the experience of not being in a relationship?
Can I turn my brain OFF?

"At one point, we were very attractive and young,

but then you got Alzheimer's and I lost the ability to hold 

an erection."

All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name. 
- Andre Breton

Mr. Attractive Seth Rogen

Sorry I've been a little absent, but I've been going on some amazing dates. Dates: plural, man: singular.
Mr. Attractive Seth Rogen. Which is a really long name, but I can't for the life of me think of a better one. It's strange, because there are so many good things about this person, and a couple of very unique things, but his resemblance to Seth Rogen (Yet attractive) sticks out the most. Who can question the inner workings of my mind.
Not you, dear readers! (All 7 of you.)
Lets call him Seth. That's a little shorter, and at this point I think I'm on a first name basis. Seein' as how we've been on about 5 dates and I know his face pretty intimately with my face.
Too much?

First Date
I met him at a party. He was standing there with a martini, being funny. We talked about things he later forgot because he was drinking. When we left the party, I mentioned to my friend that he was cute. She offered to set us up (With extreme enthusiasm because that is how she does everything.) and I hesitate.
I do. Because even though this blog is fun, and all tongue in cheek and stuff: I am exhausted. I am exhausted of holding my tongue (In my cheek?) and acting very polite and acting interested and... Acting. I am holding up a drawing in front of my face of a very interesting, normal, cute girl and my arms are tired.
Because, although I am very interesting and cute and all of those things, I am not normal. Who thinks they are, in this world.
I am bratty and spontaneous and quick to judge and say what I'm thinking (Even if it's really uninteresting) and I have a vendetta against very elderly people and cars that refuse to let other cars merge in traffic.
I am just a ball of weird.
I am tired of pretending I am not for these random strangers. They are not even worth the trouble.  If you recall, the last time I told someone that I liked them, he called me and told me Jesus was not a fan.
I did not want to waste more time and effort on an awkward encounter in which I waste my time and he wastes his money (Though that is being hopeful).
It wasn't like that, not at all. Well, maybe a little awkward. Luckily I am a destroyer of awkward; cutting through silences and pauses with my sword of irritating babbling about random shit.
We met on the pier in Seattle, in front of the pirate store. (His idea.) There was not a plan, but I am also a destroyer of plans, so that worked out fine. We walked and talked about things. We went in antique stores and weird tourist traps. We went to the comic book store. I noticed he was not dressed like a hobo, which was nice.
I imagined myself as Katherine Heigl in Knocked Up, only not pregnant or a bad actor.
At the end of the date, we smoked a cigarette. He is a smoker. I hate that action, not only because I hope to date someone who will not die anytime soon, but because I have it within me to become a smoker. I like to smoke: I started in Paris when I was 17, and I have smoked sporadically at parties ever since. I never buy a pack, but I hear cancer doesn't give a shit about stuff like that. It smells bad, it makes my throat hurt, I can't run up hills as well, and my brain won't shut up about how bad it is for me. I am too smart to be willingly drawing chemicals into my body that injure it.
And that is my rant about smoking and how much I hate it.
So we smoked a cigarette. And then he kissed me.
THAT was awkward. I'm just gonna calls it like it is, because he is so cute, but god it was awkward.
I understand. It's hard, as a guy, to know what kind of lady you're kissing. Does she like the cute 90/10 equation? Does she want to be grabbed by the shoulders and kissed like you're going off to WWII? Who can say.
So instead he chose the third: awkwardly lean forward and trip off the curb into your face option. Which I continue to laugh about. It was a nice kiss.
We planned a second one. Date I mean.

It will take about a million years to write about all the dates we went on, and what we did. Also I am a lady and only kiss and tell 79% of the time. That's an exact percentage.
But here are some hot spots:

The Needle and Thread
Seth had jokingly spoken of taking me to a speakeasy, and silly me, I assumed he was kidding.
Not so.
I'm not going to tell you how to get here, because you'll have to find your own way in. Part of the magic.
After making a reservation, your date escorts you through the restaurant and find your way to a wall. With a door and a telephone. It's all very mysterious. He then picks up the phone, states the reservation and the door is buzzed open. Then you go up these stairs:

I freaking know. 

And you're in a freaking speakeasy! With the music, and the highbacked chairs and the two lone bartenders polishing glasses. 

He bought me an amazing drink. Whiskey sour with egg white, which sounds gross, but is actually foamy and delicious. Try it. Maybe it's gross somewhere else, I don't know. 

Then if you're really lucky, when you're done with your drink your date will take you to

Quinn's

We were seated upstairs, in the 

"I'm Better Then You Because I Eat At Gastro Pubs" Section.

Oh wait. That was the whole restaurant. 

It was amazingly good, the waitstaff was nice, and it was really cozy and not pretentious, like you think it would be. Seth got bone marrow. That is exactly the kind of person I like to eat out with, the person that gets the weirdest shit on the menu, so that I can try it without committing my order to it.

My steak was better. 

I give it a serious 5/5. It's relatively inexpensive, delicious and fun.

Then we went back to his place and made out. So that was awesome. 

I am having way too much fun with this person. How much time are you supposed to spend with someone you just met? Am I jinxing things by talking to him every day?

Can things actually be jinxed?

In other news that is awesome: I signed a year lease on an apartment in Queen Anne. So I am no longer "the girl crying on the ferry because it's 2 in the morning and she just wants to sleep."

I am "girl who lives in hip neighborhood and has amazing calves from hiking up hills."

Or "girl with absurdly long nicknames."

A Date With Michael Bay: Part 2

Oh gosh, are you excited or what. I know I am. I love to relive these moments. These moments of deep, deep shame and humiliation...

Part Two
So we're at the park, holding hands and things. Sitting and talking. And he leans over and kisses me. No big deal, easiest thing in the world! I think that was the big draw there. It was not awkward, not forced. Nothing with this guy was. It was... sweet.
I try and refrain from being sweet too early, so guys don't get the wrong idea and think that's how I normally am. I don't want to give them the wrong idea and crush their hopes and dreams. Usually...
At this point in the summer, I had an internship at a theatre where I was working backstage as a stage manager. It was a play with teenaged actors and not something everyone would enjoy... Actually probably just the parents of the children and people that appreciate youth theatre... So like five people.
In any case, I had to go. It was in Seattle, we were in Tacoma, I had to drive and that was the end of our date. OR WAS IT.
"Well, I could just drive you there on my MOTORCYCLE."
He did not really speak in capital letters, but that is how my brain saw it.
And my brain said yes. yes. YES. Almost immediately.
I try and follow the simple rule of "If my mom would not like this, I shouldn't be doing it." Now, I'm not a total prude, I do occasionally ignore this rule and revel in the debauchery of my twenties. But I've noticed a lot of things I do that I know my mom would not like, I regret later. Or I'm on my knees throwing up later. Either way!
In this case, I totally ignored my rule.
And then got in a horrible fiery motorcycle crash.
No, jay kay. I did not. Gotcha. But we did drive all the way to Seattle and by the time we got there my ovaries were vibrating. And I was clutching on to him like a baby panda. Or koala. Whichever you prefer envisioning me as.
"We can sit up a little bit you know. You don't have to lean forward the whole time."
"OH. Yeah I was doing that out of terror."
He watches the play, poor soul. (It was actually quite good, and I like this theatre a whole lot, so I'm sure he wasn't completely tortured.) Then we're back on his motorcycle and back to Tacoma.
Riding on a motorcycle, on a freeway, at night. One of the most exhilarating things I've done this summer. I watched my shadow race by me as we passed street lights and laughed, and it was scary-cool-amazing.
"So do you want to come up and watch a movie or something?"
Gentleman, can I just let you guys know: we've cracked your code. You don't really want to watch a movie. You just want to make out and touch our boobs. And that's okay! You don't have to keep up this pretense that you want to watch a movie on your laptop on your bed. We're okay with that!
Ladies: They don't really want to watch a movie.
We didn't watch a movie.
What we DID do, I'm not quite sure how to describe.
So I've decided to do a mad lib for you. Whoever comments and has the most hilarious fill ins wins an illustration of your mad lib from me. Now, not the most accurate, the most hilarious. Got it? I don't want to draw me in any of your strange fantasies.

We went up to his room and he immediately                 me up against the               . "Man," I thought, "This guy is                !"  Making out with this guy is like                              . And it's                     . I never thought that I would find someone else that liked to                           . He pulls my                     over my                   , and suddenly we are outside on his                      and I am upside down, looking at the lights of Tacoma.                        are coming off rather quickly for someone who proclaimed himself to be a                    , but no big deal! "I don't want to be that girl you                    in the morning," I say seriously, looking into his                 . "I really              you." That's probably where it all                    . He doesn't seem like a               , with the kind of                he is doing, but I'm not one to judge. Maybe he's read lots of                   ? It is outta control, and I have                in places I never thought I would have                . It's perfect. It is like Fight Club up in here and I am                  . There are some things he does that I don't like, such as the frantic                      . But you win some, you                        . At the end of this, after                hours, we are                     and                        and collecting our                        from various places.
And I am                      .


I don't know what you gleaned from that artistic rendition of what I like to call, "One Night With a Marine," but I hope you enjoyed it and didn't think any less of me for my cryptic mad libs.
I drive home at about five in the morning, floating on this candy cloud of bruised lips and words that I haven't heard anyone say to me in a long time.
This was my first "date" I guess you could say, since my boyfriend and I had broken up. I missed him, a lot. He was my best friend, and despite incredibly obvious reasons we could not be together, I thought about him every day. It was nice to not think about him.
It wasn't my first "date" though, as much as it was my first time finding someone that I actually liked to talk to. I was beginning to think I had given up my only train ticket; that at 23, I was going to be left behind on the platform and everyone else was going to have their great love. All I had to do was compromise a few things, and I would've been fine. Now I know that's not true, but this summer was a hard one. It was really hard.
The next morning he texted me.
"It looks like a wolverine attacked my back."
"Well, it looks like a crazy sucker fish attached itself to my neck. So there."
I didn't really say that, but it did look like that. Who gives hickies?
The day goes on and I am singing and polishing things and contemplating inviting him over for dinner so that we can actually talk and find things in common and jump each other.
He calls later then expected.
"Are you somewhere where you can talk?"
"Um, sure. I'll go outside."
I settle myself on the lawn, expecting a warm lover's voice and instead getting a cold stranger. I am confused.
"Are you okay? What's going on?"
"I went to dinner with an Elder from my church."
Oh no, oh noooooo. I am writhing on the grass I am tearing up things and throwing them.
"Oh?"
"I'm really sorry. I didn't respect you as a gentleman last night and I apologize."
"It's really okay. I mean, it takes two to-"
"I can't see you again."
I am silent on the grass. I am contemplating at one point I hated being 23 and alone. This point. 
"Like, ever? Because we don't have to do those things, I mean, I'd like to just go to a Mariners game and-" stop stop stop being so desperate oh god stop
"Ever. I'm really sorry. I need to be in a relationship where I can come before God with my partner, and I don't think I can do that with you."
I'm pretty confident he is correct, but still cannot believe this is happening.
"So you're just, not going to see me again? We can't just take a step back or draw a line?"
"No. I'm really sorry."
"You know, it's funny how that doesn't make me feel better. I hear it does sometimes, but it's really not working for me." please don't cry with this stupid person on the phone. 
"I know. Look, I'm going to have to let you go."
"I hate when people say that. I didn't say I wanted to go, you can't let me go."
"Goodbye."
"Yeah."

Now I wonder if he was really talking about something else. I throw the phone.

Top Five Pick Up Lines

I know, you thought it was going to be part 2. Psych! Yeah, I'm bringing "pysch" back. From the 90's. We're gonna play POGS and yell "NOT!" and "PYSCH" at each other.
Instead of that, I'm going to share some pick up lines with you.
Guys seem to take a certain freedom with pick up lines on the internet, because I'm sure in real life they would choke on their own tongue if they tried to talk to me. On the computer, alone in their house, they imagine that they stride up to me, possibly holding a rose, and dip me back in my barstool saying:

Pick Up Line # 5
I think you are, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful women on this site... And that is an understatement... To add more to that, you sound like you have an amazing personality, at least from what I have read about you... 
I know that I have already written to you, and you probably just ignored it, (I did) since there are so many guys out here that just want to get laid and throw you away after they get what they want... I am not like that, and I just want to treat you like a goddess... I want you to be my Cleopatra.
Oh man. Can't hold myself back from that one. But does he want to be Caesar or Antony? That's a pretty telling question. 


Pick Up Line #4
Hey cutie im a marine
Dayum. Hold me back guys! That was the whole message, nothing else. Hey buddy, I teach children's theater! Sup.


Pick Up Line #3
I eat a lot of mustard.... and i can't stop going back to the trampoline picture. what is it with hot ladies bouncing on trampolines that makes it so hot! sorry.
I love this one for so many reason. The "trampoline" picture he refers to is a picture of me in a sweatshirt and jeans jumping on a tiny tiny trampoline. Don't be thinking that I posted a bikini picture of me jumping. Gross. My bikini picture is me being really flexible.  Geeze. I have some pride. 


Pick Up Line #2
When are you going to admit your attraction for me? lol You seem very interesting! I would like to get a chance to know you!? Maybe a drink or something of your choosing?!
Me: I guess when you start using punctuation correctly!
Nah, your right! I dont have time for a perfectionist over silly shit. Your loss! C YA
I was in a bad mood that day. To be fair, he is probably right. Not about the "my loss" thing. But about the perfectionist over silly shit. I can't help it! He just seemed crazy excited with his punctuation!


Pick Up Line #1
I almost don't want to post this, because he really needs no boost to his ego. But I have never laughed so hard at a pick up "line". 
While I am flattered that you wish to swoop in and meet me just like that, understand I have a few reservations, as any insane man masquerading as a sane man masquerading as an insane man such as myself would have before jumping into bed with every seductive siren that beckons hither. 

But really, did you have to send me 73 messages in a 24 hour span? Okay... I'll bite.. you've got my attention... congratulations.. You sure chose an odd way to go about it, but it has worked, I'll admit that much. 

I was confused by that first note, but when you followed that odd letter with some poetry, I was intrigued.. but no sooner had you written, when you immediately sent me a follow up message asking why I had not responded to your poems. I'm sorry, but I'm not on here at all hours, and hadn't even received your message. Then you left that note stapled to my live cat, in MEXICO, and I have to admit, it was all a bit much, and believe me, I was kind of creeped out by the whole thing, but then I remembered that I made all of this up, and that you aren't crazy and I'm only pretending to be, and I felt better after that. 

So, fine.. I'm sold... I submit to your demands of unbridled lust and debauchery, though part of me thinks that the imaginary you that wrote me an imaginary letter is going to great lengths to just confuse me into meeting you out of sheer curiosity. That would be a dirty ploy, and I sincerely hope that it isn't the case.

Puzzled but intrigued,
               


Still have not met this gentleman in person, because I'm still not convinced he is not going to kidnap me and sell me to sex slavers in Mexico. I was convinced it was some sort of insane form letter that he sends to everyone he meets on okcupid, but he assures me this is not the case. 


I hope you guys are having a lovely day. It finally smells like Fall, I have a date tomorrow, and I have a million books from the library to read today. And eventually I will take a shower. 
I'm just so happy to not go to work today, I don't even care what I do! 
I've had a couple people tell me they are reading this blog, so what's up guys? Comment a little, show me some love. What is your worst pick up line? Whether you've had it said to you, or you just made it up. Post it! 

A Date With Michael Bay, Part 1

Lemme tell you about a really great date I had, resulting in my brain imploding in anger, followed by the worst summer of my life.
It's a good story, and also totally Tom's fault. Tom is my best friend, and I have no reason to create a pseudonym for him, considering I only have one dude best friend, and it's not so much a mystery.
I met Tom at community college when we were cast as a couple in The Nerd. I was really excited, because I had never had a stage kiss, and this was going to be it. Fantastic love affair with co star! Instead, he and the other guys in the cast threw as much shit at me as possible, called me a transvestite and I became one of the guys. (Not...literally...)From then on, we were pretty close. Except for that one time he got a girlfriend and ignored me for two years. We female friends, we get the shaft. In the not positive way. In any case, we are friends still, he is single, I am single, and I love to say 'I told you so.'
I love when things are Tom's fault, because then I can hold it over his head forever, and whenever he gives me shit, I can just say, "Hey, remember that one time, you introduced me to Mr. Military?"
Mr. Military
Tom and I had just graduated from college and in the tradition of all broke ass graduates, having a grad party. Mine was kind of a bust, really rainy and hard to play bocce ball. But lots of money that I promptly spent at Target, so that was nice.
Tom's party was at his mom's house. It was a lovely sunny day, and I was ready to get drunk and make fun of Tom with his family. I walk in with my posse and here is some stranger with aviators.
Don't even get me started on aviators. They are an insta-hot camouflage for anyone. Not coincidentally, he knew something about camo, having just come back from Iraq. Or Afghanistan. Or somewhere hot where they shot at him.
"Hey, would you like a ride on my motorcycle?"
I can pretty much pin point the moment I was totally hooked on this person that was totally wrong for me, and it is the motorcycle.
Being brought up as a super bleeding heart feminist liberal has been really wonderful for me in some ways. I enjoy and am knowledgeable about my rights, have a sassy retort for misogynistic assholes, and can hold my own in a debate on gun ownership.
But I'm still a total sucker for a guy with a motorcycle and aviators.
And then he picked me up and spun me around in a circle (eeeeeeeeeee!) at the end of the night and I was all like, "Feminism? I hate pants!"
It was bad.
Can I just say though, that he was a really nice guy? He was not an asshole, and was in fact the perfect gentleman. In hindsight, that was probably the biggest warning sign.
Enough foreshadowing! I told Tom to give him my number. He called me.

The Date
He called me the morning of our day date (people still do apparently, have dates during the day) to ask me how I liked my eggs.
I did not say fertilized.
He was making me breakfast! Who does that?!
I arrive at his house he shared with two other military guys expecting a total shit hole, and instead arrive at a lovely duplex. It's clean. With a puppy. (A puppy!) And breakfast.
Do you see now friends, how I had no chance? No chance whatsoever?
I hope my parents do not read this blog for many, many reason, but the main reason right now, is that I really do not want them to read about what we did on this date, because my mother will KILL me and then my father will hide the body and pretend they never had a daughter.
We went shooting.
YES. I know. He dared me to come with him shooting and see if I liked it, I said I would never like it. So to prove him wrong, (Yeah I am not always this dumb) I went shooting.
It hurt a lot. And I did not like it. Because guns kill people and I don't take any joy in hitting targets knowing that the targets symbolize people.
But I liked him. And his dog tags.
Also, I was completely terrified and out of my element, like a scared puppy at the 4th of July. You ever want a girl to like you, just scare the shit out of her. That's why they invented scary movies, so the chick is too scared to walk home by herself.
Skip ahead to the park. The rose garden. The hand holding ("I LET HIM HOLD MY HAND." This will become my constant refrain to Tom later when I am screaming obscenities about Military Man). the talk about how he really hates the mentality of the military but he wants to make a difference and be a military pastor...
Yes. He wants to be a pastor. Now you may be able to guess what is going to go wrong in this scenario.

Sidebar:
Let's talk about Jesus. Now, I don't know about you (Five people that read my blog), but I love Jesus. More specifically, God. People usually assume that I am not religious (For a number of reasons I'm sure, but probably my propensity for swearing like a sailor) but I am.
I am Episcopalian, which I like to refer to as "Catholic Light." We drink, we smoke, we use birth control and sing traditional hymns, and love the big G (That is the first and only time I will ever refer to God as the big G. It was a mistake and I apologize). I personally find my religion kind of bad ass; I love God and science, I'm not a bigot and I'm not a douche bag on an acoustic guitar. So now you know: I like to go to church and I love tradition. I like to wear hats to church and I believe in the existence of a higher being that created the earth using evolution as a tool! Surprise!
Apparently that is too much, (or not enough) for some people.

I googled "cool Jesus" and this was the first thing

to come up... If I get this as a tattoo, is that too

redundant?

Detritus of Relationships Past

Detritus
Noun
Definition: Litter, Waste
Synonyms: Pieces, Crap, Rubble, Leavings, Shavings, Shit Your Ex-Boyfriends Left Behind

Having moved and broken up with a boyfriend fairly recently, I have quite a bit of experience with this. However mutual and amiable a break up is, finding his stuff never comes without a bit of a sting. Like, when will all this shit be gone? Can I not completely purge this from my life? No, you cannot.
There will always be a birthday card slid in between the pages of a book you never read, some movie stub lost in the caverns of your suitcase. Or there's the millions of facebook pictures you're tagged in together. Those too. Thank you technology. Gone are the days we could put all of that stuff in a barrel out back and burn it ritualistically (Not that I did that. At all. Okay that one time.).
Now we're reminded of our failures (Or theirs, but it feels the same doesn't it?) on a daily basis.
My break up (Which I will not speak of at length, but here is a little nod) was mutual and amiable. And stings me daily.
Not because I want to be back in the relationship, I do not. That whole mutual thing. We-will-find-our others-which-are-not-each-other and blah blah blah. But I think it's almost worse to be mutual, because what do you do with the detritus? 
I'm not mad at him, per-say. It sucks, and there's no reason to throw away that photo album, but there's no reason to keep it either. Is it a sad gesture, or a friendly one to keep it? Is it moving on, or throwing something away when you toss it out?
I hope one day to move somewhere and not bring anything, but I know that's not a reality. I like my stuff. It's just the odds and ends that stick around that bug.

I call this "Comfortable Clothes Named for Boyfriends"

Every girl keeps a t-shirt. It's a known fact. It's like a bonus

after getting your heart pulverized! Also, please do not assume 

anything from the fact the blue t-shirt says "Kids Club". 

Your Hair Looks Nice From Behind

OkCupid has this new feature for the android called "Locals," which I guess is supposed to force you to interact connect you to people in your area at the time. Apparently what did not occur to the creators of this app, is that is a perfect stalking tool. It's basically stalking-made-easy.
I'm at work, doing my thing, restocking or what have you and my phone hollas at me.
mathew27 is in Queen Anne, right now! He wants to meet up with you!
It even does the little italics, to give you a sense of impending doom anticipation. I can only imagine it shows mathew27 the same thing.
This thought results in me looking over my shoulder so much I must seem epileptic to the people walking next to me. I can't help it; I must assume the worst. He's totally following me and smelling my hair.
In a perfect world, those of us that have grown some cojones would click "Yes, let's meet up!" And go on a fantastic and spontaneous date and everything would be hunky dory. But instead I'm a little bit nervous about this random meet up action, and can't bring myself to do it. That seems like a trap. I need to do a little research before heading out with these guys from the internet, CALL ME CRAZY.

It also may have to do with the fact that I work until 10:30 PM and then have to catch the 11:40 boat in West Seattle. It doesn't leave a lot of time for fantastical dates.
On Saturday I sat at the bar in Pagliacci's and devoured two slices of pizzas. Yeah weekend, woo!
It was delicious, I regret nothing.
Last night was kind of the employee weekend, and everyone went out for karaoke. Then I watched all the guys from work hit on different women in the bar! It was great. I drank about three whiskey sours, then I went home.
I think I need to work on seeming more available, but I don't know what that means. Less smart? Can anyone tell me? Seriously guys, if you know me, can you give me a break down of how I seemed the first time you meant me?
Needlessly bitchy?
Repellent?
Been a cold, dry summer my friends.

I just don't understand how you could resist this. Also,

this is my Hermione face. They made her all pretty in the 

movies and I was like, hell no. She is a crazy face. Stick

to the book man!