This is the actual diner at night.
So I am getting back into the groove of things. There’s but so much vacation in my blood folks. Mid-way through the week I fully logged back into work. Shoot me I am work-a-holic….some days. It could also have a lot to do with the friggin horrible weather I came home to. Thanks again Mother Nature I owe you one.
During the vacation I received word that upon return I would be hopping a flight or two to LA. Now under normal circumstances this would have been quite arse nibbling but as we know one of my bestest friends in this wide world, Model Friend, moved to the left coast. This “busines trip” provided the perfecto opportunity to catch up. Even with the Facebooking and Twittering updates of it all it still feels different that she’s not here. Which reminds me, I so need to turn my FB status updates off because getting Model Friend’s messages at 3AM on a work night aren’t all that fun anymore. Not that we spent every waking minute together because we didn’t but it was nice to know if I needed a sounding board I didn’t have a 3hr time difference to calculate.
Nurse Friend says I’m not allowed to cry when I leave Model Friend to board the plane back home. Nursie-poo-poo forgets I’m as tough as nails and crying is for babies and men who win championships, of which I am neither.
Anyway before returning from South Beach Nurse Friend and I decided we were going to this Black ‘n’ White party at the Double Tree on Saturday night. With any party, doors open for new shoes or a new dress or both. In this instance I had some fresh never worn get him girl pumps lying in wait ready to pounce out the box so I decided that a new dress would suffice. A trip to Urban Outfitters proved useful as I was able to pick up a cutabulous little number on Thursday. Jumping slightly ahead for the sake of time we never made it to the party due in very large part to the tsunami like conditions afflicting Saturday night in the tri-state. Again, Mother Nature giving me her ass to kiss, she should consider this post flipping her off in blog form. We are no longer on speaking terms!
Anywho let’s backtrack a taste. On Friday night The Best Friend asked if we could meet up for yet another girl’s night in. Uh sorry NO! Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy a little men suck every once and again just like the next muchacha unfortunately my body was craving some male attention and my wallet was screaming empty. Shoot me, we’re in a recession!
Somehow or another I ended up, late night on my way to display my fantabulous amateur bowling skills to Mailroom Boy. Unfortunately by the time we made it to the lanes they weren’t setting up any more games instead we grabbed a drink at the bar. A drink that was wasted as I watched the bartender wet his hair and slick it back with his hands sans gloves. Yeah major germ-o-phobe moment as I imagined his nasty greasy wet follicles floating in my Vodka with a splash of pineapple. Heartbreaking and it was too late to complain to management.
Yes I’m that girl when it comes to personal hygiene type things.
It was too early to call it an evening so we went to a diner to grab a late night snack. I opted for a piece of butter cream cake, which was all types of scrumptilicious I don’t remember what Mailroom Boy had besides a cup of tea, he claims he was cold providing a passable excuse for resting half his lanky body under mine. He was just on the edge of uncomfortable close but I let it go. We talked for what seemed like hours and really were hours, did I ever mention that the boy can talk. By the time I got home it was 4:30AM.
Mailroom Boy sent a great night as always text and have a safe flight which I thought was very cutesy. He told me he would miss me….I hope this guy doesn’t like me too much as I don’t see this ending in a positive light. My feelings toward him are very torn.
I sense snobbish tendencies creeping back up my spine…
One thing I did learn from The Man Wander Married, you should never sh*t where you eat! His words not mine, not that he followed them but then again he also said don’t do what I do, do what I say. Words to live by….I give great advice but have a hella hard time following it.
Maybe a slight dating hiatus to clear my mind is in order…so much for the Rose Quartz.
5 Pardon My French:
Why I am always so tired reading about your days and nights?
Give the quartz another chance. ;-)
You have a very television type of life. You know what I mean... the professional jet setting girl, with the fun friends, and the guy friend who wants to be the BF.
I say ditch the quartz, and keep Mailroom Boy.
I agree with La'Tonya that it does read like a show. I wonder though if MB stands a chance at all? An inkling? A glimmer? A "one in a million so you're saying there's a chance" shot? He clearly digs you. Hmmm. Maybe that's why. Not enough mystery?
Gah, the bartender with his slicked back hair totally grossed me out. Does that mean you let the drink sit in front of you and had to pay for it to boot?
Yuck.
@Reforming, seriously it doesn't seem like a lot to me...I mean you're the one doing marathons and stuff now that's tiring.
@La'Tonya, how about I ditch both and start fresh for the new year????
It doesn't feel any bit as glamorous as TV while living it and believe me it doesn't pay as well.
@Mr Nichols, ha ha you and La'Tonya are killing me, do you really think there's a market for this...always looking for my get rick quick scheme, I kid I kid.
Maybe you're right it's because he's not a mystery or because it's too easy. I do like the man and until I banish him from the island there's always a chance. What's so wrong with being just friends?
@Cardio, the bartender grossed me out too. And yes that's exactly what that means....watching as the ice melted and filled the glass but I couldn't take a sip. It looked very tasty but alas gross bartender had to ruin it for me. I really wanted that drink.
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