Cleaning house

Monday, July 24, 2006

Weekend Update

Hello folks—Yet another busy weekend in Sadie-ville. J  I love my life sometimes, I really do.


This week at the store was hellish.  My days were filled with cranky crackpots, and full-blown crazies.  I had a dentist appointment with the hygienist from hell, which I’ll fill you in about later from home.  I just want to get in a post while I’ve got 5 minutes at work to drink my coffee and reflect on how much I love living in this wacky city.


This is going to flip around a bit, because it just is.  I should have posted every day, like a good little Blogger…but as you’re all far too well aware, I’m NOT a good little Blogger.  And after this tale of woe?  You won’t think I’m a Good Little Anything.  (But I am!! I swear!!!)


Thursday, I was up late, was online.  Was talking to Scott a bit.  (Yes, THAT Scott—the musician.  Henceforth, he shall be known as Twenty-Five.  So…  We were talking about nothing much.  His new job.  How much fun we’d had that time we were naked.  He suggested that I should come over and we could revisit that state of affairs.  I thought about it a bit…said “What the hell?!” and agreed.  So I left my house.  It was midnight.  (Can we say ‘booty-call’ boys and girls?  I knew that you could!) 


I left my house and drove around his neighbourhood for an hour.  I couldn’t find the freaking house.  I thought that my amazing sense of direction, and my unerring ability to return to any place I’ve ever been even once in my life, would guide me.  I was sooo wrong.  And since he had to work early in the morning, and I was growing more frustrated by the minute, I finally gave up and went home.  So much for innate skills and talents!  My homing device is obviously on the fritz.  Disappointed?  You could say that.  (If disappointment is spelled with an H at the front and a Y at the end!)


Friday—I closed at work so got out at just before 10.  At which time I drove downtown, because I had a date with Dan (the guy that I met at Cheers last weekend).  He’s a very nice guy.  We had a lovely time chatting and getting to know , and stayed out faaaar too late.  Left Rogue’s Roost at 2:00AM!  Yikes.


And this is where it takes a turn for the surreal.


So…I was wired.  And got online.  Where I started talking to Twenty-Five.  (Do you see where this is going?  Yeah…I’m predictable.  But sooo not!  Honest!)  So Twenty-Five came over to the house, and a GREAT time was had by all.


You know?  Being a bad girl isn’t nearly so bad as my mother always made it out to be.  I have to say, I felt REALLY silly when he first came through the front door.  And I even said, “I feel really silly.”  He said, “Why do you feel silly?” and kissed the heck out of me.  So…needless to say…silly ended pretty quickly.


Saturday, I closed again…which was good, because I REALLY needed to sleep in a bit.  A girl needs her beauty rest in order to keep up with the young’uns. 


After work, I went home and slept.  First, I returned about a billion emails from old, bald, hairy, funny-looking guys from POF.  I am doing an experiment, and actually posted a photo for the last week, to see how many more emails I receive.  And let me tell you—apparently I’m a VERY popular fish with the oldies.  But EEEEEEW.  And it’s really horrible having to send “Thanks, but HELL NO!” emails to let them down gently. 


I need to cut the ties there—although it’s kinda fun meeting so many new people all the time.  I just feel bad, because they all want relationships, and are looking for a soul-mate…and I’m so not.  Because I KNOW that I’m not going to find my soul-mate on a dating site.  I’ve met enough of these wonderful men to know that  they’re just not my type.  I don’t NEED shy.  I don’t WANT a man where I have to make idle small-talk for an hour before they open up enough to tell me their favourite flavour of ice-cream.  I get enough of that bullshit at work everyday, I don’t want to have to do it in my private life too.  I don’t want to have to look after someone else and their lack of personality.  I want someone who can stand on their own two feet, and can challenge me intellectually, and emotionally…if not necessarily in the traditional Festivus way of challenging people to feats of strength.


I have to head out—must close the store and get the heck out of dodge.  I’ll finish up from home later tonight.  I PROMISE.  J


(Unless something more fun comes up!)





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