Clearing my Karma

Ok, so if we rewind back to like eons ago when I named Mr. Ass-hat and the "red-headed whore" he didn't even bother to dump me for but just invited over to spend the night (probably without even washing the sheets since the last time I had spent the night) and Twitter was the only way I even found out about the whole thing since she posted a picture of his dog in his bed at 9am on a Monday morning which I saw and immediately jumped to all possible conculsions and still don't really know which of those conclusions I was right and wrong about and don't care anymore but at the time felt scorned and therefore angry....caught up now? Yeah, so that's when I named him Mr. Ass-hat. I named her "the red-headed whore" and I think maybe even something about run-on-sentences which apparently bothered me at the time but since then I appear to have been smitten with the same affliction so yeah, whatever. Besides, I'm an engineer, not only are we the kings and queens of run-on sentences but we're not really even qualified to judge a sentence for it's run-onny-ness.

Anyway, after that I kind of started reading her blog in a "stalking your ex's new girl so you can find out why he thinks she's better than you" kind of way.

Then she started following me on Twitter which was all kinds of weird.

After several weeks, I followed her back...I still don't know why.

Then she started INTERACTING with me on Twitter...and like commenting on stuff I said and asking me questions and shit.

And, she makes me laugh. And when I've been sad, she's cheered me up. And when good things have happened for her, I'm genuinely happy for her. And when bad things have happened, I'm genuinely concerned. And, she's adorably cute.

And so, I don't really think she had/has any idea that she accidently lead to the scorning of me by Mr. Ass-hat. It actually wasn't her fault he wanted to invite her to spend the night in his bed with or without clean sheets (and when he's not wearing his ass-hat, he is adorable, so that's probably why she said yes). It wasn't her fault if he didn't tell her he was seeing someone (and if she did know, I don't want to know about that). AND, me and Mr. Ass-Hat were not exclusive...and I'd only stayed at his place once and that's mostly because a water pipe broke in my house.

And now, I find myself looking foward to reading her blog because she's got talent (and way more readers than I have). And, we have a lot of the same Twitter friends and they're awesome. And right now, she's sad...she's very sad and it actually hurts my heart because I know what it's like to be that sad. And if I ran into her out and about, I'd immediately recognize her because she's the cutest damn thing ever and I'd run up to her and hug her like the old friend she's sort of become to me (in an online communication kind of way). And when she's crying over Ass-hat, I'd let her do it on my shoulder...even if I was wearing something that is dry clean only.

And so, we will be renaming her...from here on out, she will be known as my Twitter-Sister. So, if you see someone sad today, give them a hug because for all you know, it might be her. And if you online stalk her like I did, you won't be able to help yourself...you'll love her too.

Savor This!

I should NOT be eating french fries. This is because I joined Weight Watchers like back in February or something and I've lost zero pounds while my girlfriend I joined with is in an entirely new skinnier wardrobe while I still have to lay down to button my fat jeans. My skinny jeans are just taking some time off. And, don't get me wrong, you can have fast food on Weight Watchers, you just have to commit to broccoli for the rest of the day. I'm bad at committing to things like housework and vegetables and so as a result, I've lost no weight and even though I haven't been able to wear my skinny jeans they're still in the laundry hamper because why waste the effort to wash them if I can't wear them anyway?

Today I had a late doctor's appointment and so I waited to have lunch afterwards. I needed something quick. And what's quicker than Wendy's? I thought, I could just get a burger and skip the fries but then I also thought, "well, that's just retarded." So, I got a burger with fries and I was sooooooo excited. You'd think this was the first time I'd had Wendy's in like 3 days and it's really only been 2 (true story).

I taste my delicious fried potatoey treats only to realize, "Whoa these babies need salt." I searched my bag and alas, no salt. I was at a crossroads, either walk all the way to the front of the building carrying my Wendy's box of fries to search for salt in the kitchen or just eat them as they were. Since there was no guarantee of salt in the kitchen, I decided to eat them as they are using that well-known fact that if something doesn't taste as good as you wanted it to, it obviously has zero calories. This is the cornerstone of most diet plans. Eat food we tell you tastes just like the full fat version and when you're all disappointed, the calories disappear and you lose weight. It's been proven, I'm pretty sure.

So, I eat my calorie-free french fries and I'm down to the last one and I decide to savor it as I lean back in my chair with my eyes closed lowering it into my mouth and realize whatever I just put into my mouth is not a french fry at all...it's not even in the potato family! It's the salt packet. FOUND IT! Too late.

Thus, not only did I not get to savor my last french fry because it got upstaged by the salt but I also ate an entire thing of under-salted fries. I am so disappointed. I'm pretty sure that level of disappointment negated the calories from the Big Bacon Classic too. I can totally skip working out today.

Shower Yoga: Upward Facing Clam

Ok, so you'll remember from my previous post that shower yoga with a razor was on my schedule for yesterday and I have successfully whipped the lady bits into shape with the now aptly named yoga pose "upward facing clam."

I was also asked out by a girl which is unrelated to my clam story. I mentioned this to Mr. Melty-Pants and he said, "I think you should go, and I should go too." Of course he does. But look, if I can't figure out which date is the "sex but not a slut" date then I surely don't know which date is the "group sex" date. Besides, I think I pulled a muscle doing yoga in the shower.

And Mr. Melty-Pants made plans with me for Sunday which sucks because by Sunday I will surely have to shave again and who knows if my pulled muscle will be healed enough to get my leg over my head again.

Seriously, I'm about to justify laser hair removal to myself because having to explain why you're late to work by saying, "Well, it's really important to stretch before showering but it takes some extra time," is just opening yourself up to awkward questions at the office.

Mr. Pants-Melter

I met a guy a few weeks ago and I'm in trouble guys. I like him. A lot.

So, on our last date, he finally kissed me...in that up-against-a-wall kind of way. My biggest problem now is that I'm not sure what date it is that I can sleep with him without being a slut. I was never good at not being a slut apparently because it seems like remembering which date is the "sex date" is pretty important...like rule 1 of "No, I'm not a slut." So, sorry Mom. I'm probably going to screw this up. Good thing you don't read my blog.

So anyway, last night in a fit of bad decisions brought on by the fact that I was stuck at the office still at 9pm and there were no sporks available with which to gouge my own eyes out, I agreed to engage in some stress relief that did not involve ocular mutilation and meet him at his place for some late drinks. Plus he offered to massage out this knot going on in my back as a result of all this hard manual desk-labor. Don't look at me like that, this mouse is heavy if you're a lazy person that eats as much fast food as I do. Anyway, he bribed me with Jack Daniels and promises of massages...that's what I'm getting at. Plus, since the hella-awesome making out from the last date, I was pretty sure that this was going to end up in naked bodies on the floor in a sweaty pile of delicious fun but I wasn't sure if that was okay yet or if I need more dates to reach "not a slut" status. I decided to not care.

But, on the way to his house, I almost had a mental breakdown because I wasn't sure about the landscaping. I mean, I don't usually skip out completely on tending the front lawn but when I'm single it's more of a quick "weedwacker" fashion than a "yoga in the shower to get all the nooks and crannies" fashion. I decided to throw caution to the wind and hope that I could distract him with circus tricks or something if we got that far.

We did not.

Don't get me wrong, there was awesome snuggling, laughing, and some really hot making out. At one point, I kind of thought my pants might just fall off...or melt off...but they did not. And so I left to go home way too late and there was one incident in which his labrador tried to get in on the making out...but despite all that. I can't wait to see him again.

And I'm totally about to do some shower yoga with my razor just in case my pants melt next time I see him. Can't be too careful.

And thus he was dubbed "Mr. Pants-Melter"...God I hope he lives up to it.