I threw the chips away

Being 32 years old has its perks, I can be comfortable staying in on a Saturday night and I can really, without hesitation, look at where I am in my life and be happy. I am in such a good place. I'm blessed with great family and great friends, a few nights in and seldom nights out, I'm healthy, happy and well...recently, bored. So I called up one of my best friends in the world last week and mentioned I needed a girls night out. Not just a let's go to dinner and grab a glass of vino, I mean, I want to get gussied up (I'm from Texas, deal with the word), I wanted to drink too much and I wanted to stay out late. She is a mother of 2 kids under the age of 2, she was ALL for it! We were psyched, we got a babysitter, called up another one of our best friends to join in on the debauchery and she too was game to play.

This past Saturday night we went out on the town! We got all gussied up, I even wore fake eyelashes that until I started drinking made me want to pluck my eyes out. Those things are not comfortable! We went to a great restaurant where I decided to not clean my plates of three courses because as I kept reminding my friends, I was wearing two tank tops and a sequined skirt my mother referred to as "you should charge $50 an hour in that thing". Supporting. My mother tends to only like me in clothes that come from Talbot's...Talbot's doesn't work for "Gussie". Anyway, as the night went on and the drinks began to flow my memory starts to fade. 

We went to a few bars, we danced with strangers and was compared to being a cougar by others. At 32 I am no cougar, but the 22 year old who had offered to buy me a drink...clearly I was. I remember him showing me his ID, I had never seen 1989 on a drivers silence before. It was weird looking.

We jumped in a cab at 2 to go relieve the babysitter and some guy got in the front seat as he was going in our direction. He paid for our cab, we paid for the babysitter. Only after I realized I had lost my keys. If there is one thing I pride myself on is that I have never been that person to lose something when I go out. I am mystified by the loss. What is also a bit unsettling, is throughout the evening we took pictures and got some good memories, albeit a few are hazy. However, I thought we needed a memento as well. So, at bar #2, there were two serving dishes, one with peanuts and one with chips. I proceeded to toss the chips and the peanuts onto the floor, stuff the two bowls into my clutch, yes clutch, and run out of the bar and out to the car. I believe this is probably where said keys were lost in the commotion. Which means, I clearly cannot go retrieve them. I'm a fugitive.

I woke up yesterday feeling like a truck ran me over, I threw up to try to feel better, I didn't. I didn't eat until 5:15 last night. I was once again reminded, I'm not in my 20s. I'm good for at least another 8 months before that comes around again. The person who invented shots should actually be shot. Because it is that person I blame for losing my keys, dressing like a $50/hour lady of the night and for taking my money. But it was all my friends and I who made it hilarious and worth the Sunday morning, day, afternoon and night pain. To the young 22 year olds who bought us our drinks and danced with us on the dance floor,  you too are welcome, for you also have some good stories to share. And to the 3 Aholes who stole our cab while we were trying to get home to the babysitter, I stick to my word, "you really are 3 douche-bags".

I'd fill you in on more, but as I said, it gets a bit hazy.  I enjoyed the night off from reality, bills, work, yoga and responsibility, I enjoyed turning back time 10 years, It's the turning it back to the present that blows...!

It's True, I Judge

My name is, PluralofMe, and I am judgmental. I'm picky, I'm curious, I'll tear someone apart to find their faults that will ease the blow of rejection later on down the road. There, I said it. I have been honest with you, which means now you know about me and I can continue on my rants.

I most recently turned 32 years old. The realization for me is I am now only 8 years away from 40! More importantly, however, I'm only 6 years away from my official scary age, 38. Why is this my scary age, you may ask. Well, when I was 25, I met someone whom I thought had it all, except for a relationship and every time I saw her, she cried. She was devastated to be 38 and single. Now, if I am still single at 38 and this blog has reached historical heights, then I am totally fine with that. However, if I have reached 38, I am still single and I am sad...well, that frightens the hell out of me. So I have made a promise to myself, I'm not going to settle. I'm not going to bust my ass to be in a relationship with just anyone because I can't imagine anything worse than being in a relationship and unhappy. I am so happy now, I'm enjoying my life, having a blast on bad dates and good, meeting men worthy of a conversation and some a bit more and others even less. Most importantly, I have surrounded myself with people who support my indiscretions and my dry sense of sarcasm. So...therefore I will continue to scrutinize, pick apart, judge and make fun of the men that come into and out of my life, for they are truly life's unintentional humor for so many of us.

As of late, my dating life has taken a bit of a hiatus. I was so excited about meeting up with a guy a few weeks ago who I was having a great dialogue with via text messages and the phone, and who I thought was so cute on his eharmony.com profile. He gave me fodder to walk away before meeting him when in a text a few hours before we met he informed me he had a goatee (which was growing in multicolored) and that he was really into the band Vertical Horizon. Goatees aren't bad, but I have just never been particularly attracted to men who have them. I prefer go all in or go without. This attempt to grow hair in a certain formation on your face, but keeping your cheeks free of facial fur just doesn't work for me personally. And Vertical Horizon people? Well, I was just waiting for him to tell me that he followed Nickelback too. But, I enjoyed our exchanges so much that I put it aside, well, let's be honest, I put it in my back pocket for later usage. We had a nice time, not off the charts, but it was good. Then I got a text every girl dreams of the following evening which read:

"I just want to be honest. I didn't feel a romantic connection". OUCH! Whatever, he had a goatee and liked cheesy bands. Over it.

I left town for a while, work trips and family vacations to follow. So I paused the online dating site from new match ups and just dealt with what was already there. I started texting with a guy who seemed pretty funny. He started throwing out "my girl" "baby" "sweetheart" fairly soon, considering we haven't met in person. But, I thought he was kidding. Then he threw in the ringer via text this past friday night which read:

"I've been living on credit for the past 2 years."

Seriously? What the hell? Yes, I judge. He's a 37 year old man who is choosing to live on credit. He has passion for a case he has been working on, good for him, but I just can't bring myself to find this to be okay. It is people like this that are affecting my taxes. Right? I then realized, like a lightening bolt, his "baby" "my girl" and "sweetheart's" were not a joke, he's from Southern Louisiana. He is the same guy, in a different body, that I went out with in October that sweet-talked his way into my liquor cabinet and my wallet.

I have another letter in to eharmony, "Dearest Matchers of Eharmony.com, WTF? Do I want someone to make me laugh? Yes. Do I want someone to be rich? No. Do I want someone to be financially responsible? Um, absolutely. There is a difference. Figure it out. Signed, Over It."