Woe is Me

In high school, there was this adorable guy, Chris, who worked at the American Eagle in the local mall. He was tall with dirty blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. He embodied the All-American boy with his rugged good looks, harboring the affection of many a young girl. We couldn't help but swoon and giggle every time he said, "Can I help you find anything today?" His name may also have come up once or twice during a few slumber parties.

One day at my locker, I overheard my equally beautiful neighbor, Courtney, telling her friend she'd been hired at American Eagle. In relaying the gossip to my best friend, we realized, "Oh no! Now she's probably going to start dating Chris!" Sure enough, it wasn't long before we saw Chris outside of the mall, as she paraded him around at football games (he went to a different high school) and dances and parties I wasn't cool enough to attend. Not only were they an aesthetically pleasing couple to look at, but they were dressed in the latest fashion trends courtesy of their 10% American Eagle discount.

Ten years later and I'm still wondering, why don't things like this ever happen for me? It's incredibly rare for me to be attracted to someone based entirely on looks. A man tends to grow more or less attractive in accordance to his personality and my preconceived notions of our compatibility. In the rarest of cases, I instantaneously deem a guy "hot" such as Bobby or the Hot Personal Trainer at my gym, and he's never interested in me. Thus, out of my league.

There's no moral to this story other than the fact I have shitty luck when it comes to men. Why are the hot ones never taken with me?

Boring Updates

Things have been non-eventful lately. Here's all that's happened the last couple weeks.

1. Majority of my free time has been spent with TheGuy. Not real exciting stuff. LP's Facebook status has changed to "in a relationship" but the man remains a mystery.

2. Heard the song "American Boy" by Estelle featuring Kanye on the radio last weekend and loved it ever since.

3. The latest on Curly Sue and Boris is that the whole "outing" of the affair turned out to be a cruel joke. Thus it continues. Or more like, never stopped.

4. I'm really paranoid TheGuy is going to find this blog. In reviewing the history on my computer, I discovered he clicked on a couple of my bookmarks. While I don't have this blog bookmarked, he could easily figure out which is mine if he spent enough time perusing my favorites. Now I must remove them.

5. My mom had a dream that she entered a room to find me crying hysterically. When she asked what was wrong, I said, "TheGuy proposed." Her response, "No wonder you're crying."

6. I'm enjoying being able to run outdoors again. I haven't done more than 6 miles yet, but I'm pleased for now. Thanks to the help of my trainer (TheGuy), I successfully barely bench and squat 55 pounds now! My balance still needs a lot of work though.

7. One of my high school friends recently got implants. I haven't seen her yet but my curiosity is at an all-time high. I will probably see her this weekend.

8. My dad went golfing over the weekend by himself and ended up joining a threesome, which included a guy who introduced himself as Bobby, as in, the guy I've been infatuated with since seventh grade. Also there? A guy I accidentally made out with once in college when his roommate insisted he walk me home one night. So I guess Bobby was playing with a brand new driver and when he went to tee off, he swung with so much force that the driver head flew off the end of the club. He was pissed, understandably so. And played like crap for the next few holes.

9. Jason texted again last weekend, wanting to know if I was out. I wasn't. It's been two months since I met the kid. One thing I neglected to blog about earlier is that I have slight reassurance in his physical appearance. In doing some super stalking on Facebook, I discovered he's friends with this girl that used to live in the unit next to me. We never really spoke much, but I saw her all the time and yet again, through Facebook and MySpace, I learned she met Bobby (yes, my Bobby) at WeFest one summer and became friends with him. Also, she's friends with this guy at the gym Deborah goes to and she attempted to set me up with him. Now there's a third connection. Anyway, this girl and her friends are really pretty so I can only assume he must be a decent looking guy. Who knows if I'll ever find out.

10. A few days ago, my brother's girlfriend told this story I can't get out of my head. One of her friends had plans to dogsit for a week. The first day she arrived at the home, their poodle was dead. She found the vet's phone number and the vet told her the dog hadn't been doing well lately so it wasn't a big shock, but told her she still needed to bring the dog into the clinic. Unfortunately for her, this was no toy poodle, the thing was heavy. She decided her best option was to put the poodle in a suitcase with wheels. She was in Chicago so she needed to take the train and in the process, she struggled with the suitcase on the stairway. A man nearby offered his assistance which she graciously accepted. While on the train, he asked, "So what do you have in that suitcase anyway?" She replied, "Computer equipment." At her stop, she filed out, suitcase in hand, only to be shoved aside as some guy from the train ran off with the dead poodle. Could you imagine the look on his face when he opened the suitcase?

11. I got a tattoo of a hickey on my neck.

12. I learned a new term for cellulite: hail damage. Funniest term since "muffin top."

What Doesn't Kill You, Only Makes You Stronger

As a runner, I've learned to hold my breath when a stinky situation arises, typically prompted by ignorant smokers who blow smoke directly into your nasal passages, toxic bus fumes, and the occasional jackass with pit stains down to his ankles that insists on running at 9.9 on the treadmill beside you.

There are worse dilemmas of the odoriferous type, however, as I crudely discovered the other day. I'd just returned from a jog, all hot and sweaty and not in the mood to be bothered with. As I impatiently waited for the slow elevator to reach floor one, I grabbed my mail which consisted of the worthless monthly magazine from the gym. Lo and behold, when the elevator doors finally opened, Elmer Fudd and his overweight dachshund exited, shuffling at the pace of a death row inmate.

Elmer Fudd moved in about a month ago, earning the title of "creepiest old man" in my apartment building, successfully edging out the googly-eyed, unemployed guy with the junkyard car. My building is essentially a dorm for spoiled kids whose parents pay their rent and young, single working professionals taking advantage of the subsidized housing. If you're an old resident, you're probably a weirdo and inevitably, stick out like a sore thumb. Elmer Fudd is middle-aged, short and stocky, and stares you down like nobody's business. He looks like a world class pervert. It would be within reason to assume he uses his weiner dog for more than a friendly game of tug-o-war.

Had I not been so eager to jump into a cold shower, I may have noticed the foul odor before the elevator doors closed, sentencing me to the gas chamber. Never have I been subjected to anything so vile in my life. To say it was "rotten" would be an understatement. How it is humanly possible (not to mention NORMAL) to emit that much gas in the time it takes an elevator to descend two floors, I shall never know. Was it the dog? I can't rule it out completely. But I'm convinced otherwise.

Now I've passed out many places before -- cab rides, bar stools, random stranger's beds, but an elevator would be a first. In my head, I began composing goodbye letters to family and friends. Near the brink of defeat, I flipped open my Lifetime Experience magazine (at least it's good for one thing) to an article explaining how unwashed cucumbers only last for a week in your refrigerator before spoiling (good to know). I then took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the clean smell of fresh print. How relieved I was to inhale air that didn't reek like ass, you'll never know. I kept my nose buried in the magazine until the doors opened and I was no longer held prisoner against my will.

Twin Cities Marathon 2

March of the Pink Zebras

Last Saturday Rockstar came over and we went to The Old Spaghetti Factory to carbo load in prep for the 5K. There's a strong possibility we may have OD'ed on the carbs but it was so delicious, we couldn't stop! We both had salad, spinach and cheese ravioli, two loaves of bread, and spumoni ice cream. Every last bite. Gone. She hadn't eaten all day. Me? I'm just a pig.

I think our server was impressed by our hearty appetite. I tried to make his day by writing "you're cute" on my credit card receipt. Cute in the nervous, little boy way that is. He was just a baby, maybe 19??

We planned on catching a 7:20 showing of Smart People, but when 7:00 rolled around and our ice cream had just arrived, we were in need of a change in plans. Rockstar doesn't get out too much in Minneapolis so it was kind of fun to show her some of the places where I frequently black out hang out.

We first stopped by The Loop and bellied up to the bar for a drink. Then we headed to 508 where I experienced déjà vu. Or downtown is just that small, as three of the guys I met on T.'s birthday were there as well. After we got our first drink and sat down, I recognized none other than, Wheelchair Guy. He was with a group of guy friends (some I recognized) and an attractive blonde chick -- it quickly became clear she was the infamous psychotic girlfriend. Unfortunately for us, she didn't unleash that side of her but maybe it was because we made it a point to sort of steer clear of her man. She was pretty cute for him. It must have been his suave dance moves that got her.

It was fun to run into him and his buddies again. Rockstar immediately went up to him and told him she'd heard about his wheelchair move, but he claimed to be too sober to do it. I later learned "too sober" meant "not allowed to have fun" when he came up to me and apologized for not hanging out and having fun with us due to his girlfriend's presence. How hilarious is that? Even though he couldn't hang with us, we danced with his friends while mocking complete strangers. Can you ask for a better time? I think not.

One of the more interesting parts of the evening was when I was dancing with Wheelchair Guy's buddy and some girl shoved me out of the way and proceeded to take my place in dancing with him. I was taken aback but it wasn't like I was interested in the guy or anything so I merely walked away and told Rockstar about it. Later the guy came back and told me that girl was his sister so I guess she thought it was funny, which more or less, just kinda creeped me out that she was there watching him grind on chicks. If I saw my brothers doing that, I'd be scarred for life.

I also saw Stephen, but keep in mind, I did NOT look hot. Far from it. I hadn't planning on going out. And since I have poison ivy on my neck that looks like a giant hickey, I had a jumbo band-aid covering it up, my hair was in a ponytail so it wouldn't brush up against the rash, and I was wearing tennis shoes...to a downtown bar on Saturday night. I looked so very-not-cute. So even though we walked right by Stephen and his buddy, I wasn't exactly feeling up to saying hello when I looked like a total scrub. And if he saw me, he didn't say anything, probably because he was too frightened by my appearance!

And then there's Jason. He texted me Friday night but I was hanging out with TheGuy and then I guess we both ended up being at 508 at the same time on Saturday but he ended up leaving pretty quickly to go to some birthday celebration at another bar. It was for the better, since I looked awful. There is a slight chance he saw me, took one look at a big band-aid, bad outfit, and hair that looked like shit and ran far, far away. And I would never know because I have no idea what the guy looks like! If I never hear from him again, I'll know why.

In my last post I referenced looking like a lesbian. A dude came up to Rockstar and flat-out asked if she was straight and then wanted to know if her and I were together (we happened to be wearing very similar outfits -- go figure).

Anyway, I learned that even when you look like shit at a bar, you can still have fun.

Even when you have to get up the next day and run a 5K!! The race went well but the temperature was on the chilly side. We all wore pink zebra bandanas which was totally fun so we better have made the pictures this year! At least we weren't wearing pig noses like some runners. We're not that dorky.

Leprosy

1.) I passed by one of my old bosses in the hallway at work last week and his eyes went directly to my "hickey." I'm sure he was thinking, what a 'ho.

2.) TheGuy is scared to touch me with a ten foot pole, as half his body has been covered in poison ivy and got to the point where he had to take steroids.

3.) I'm forced to wear a Band-Aid on my neck in public to hide my scarlet A. Somehow I ended up at the bar last night looking like a lesbian (explanatory post to follow).

4.) My mom just told me it looks like I have a hickey and then told me the story of how she gave my dad a hickey on his nose soon after they were married.

Excuse me while I vomit.

If Only it were a Hickey

Is it possible to get poison ivy in winter? YES.

"Urushiol is the chemical in poison ivy plants that causes the typical allergic reaction and symptoms of poison ivy rashes. Urushiol is found in the leaves, stems, and roots of poison ivy plants, which means that you can get a rash even in the winter, when a plant has lost all of its leaves."

For those who have never had it, allow me to share my misery.

Day 1: You may notice one or two small dots, or red, irritated skin. If you touch it, it will spread.

Day 2: Extreme, constant urge to itch.

Day 3: Inflamed area becomes painful.

Day 4: Tiny blisters form, producing puss and yellow ooze.

Day 5: Infected area begins to dry. Flaky skin to follow.

Day 6: See below.



Note: While there may be more sensitive areas to get poison ivy, the neck is not an ideal location as it closely resembles what appears to be a hickey. Unfortunately, turtlenecks and concealer are not your friend in this case, for they will only magnify the problem. And it takes far longer for a poison ivy rash to go away than a love-bite.

Where Did I Go?

I've got a fake job and a fake relationship, and for what? Why am I cheating myself out of living up to my full potential? Does it all amount to my fear of failure? If I never try, I'll never fail, right? But if I never try, I'll never succeed. I can't fathom living my whole life never seeing my name in print. In terms of a relationship, I deserve to be with someone who brings out the very best part of me. Not settling for someone with whom I'm content.

Who is this coward that took over my body? When did I quit living?

Whatever Dude

Yesterday at work I was talking to TheGuy on gchat when I decided to ask him to change his relationship status on Facebook. It was really more of a test than anything, which he barely passed -- he got a C-. His relationship status has always said "single" while I've never listed my status. I mean, why?

Immediately after I asked him, he ignored me for the next twenty-five minutes. I got pissed, said a few unkind words and signed off. Then I logged into Facebook and noticed he removed his relationship status from his page. The weird thing was he did it ten minutes after I asked though he didn't bother to respond to the IM I'd sent twenty-five minutes prior to that.

Then he sent a b.s. apology email about being in the middle of something important at work (yeah right, he never even went idle) and saying he'd removed that he was single though he wasn't sure that's what I was "going for or not" and more b.s. about how annoying it is when people update that stuff all the time (6 months = all the time) and that he's a private person that way (so he can continue to pursue LP and other women).

Clearly, it was not something he wanted to do.

The Love Hexagon

Jerry Springer, watch out for flying chairs! Last Friday, Curly Sue, Boris, and Boris' wife were all at the bar together. At some point in the evening, Mrs. Boris decided to let everyone know she and her husband have sex twice a day. Perhaps she felt threatened by Curly Sue?

If that weren't awkward enough, later in the weekend Boris' friend Kirby exposed the affair between Curly Sue and Boris to Mrs. Boris. Why on earth would he do such a thing? Because Kirby (also married) has a thing for Curly Sue so he thought he'd have a chance with her if he successfully removed Boris from the equation. Supposedly, Curly Sue has no interest in Kirby, but we can always hope for some more love triangle (or more like hexagon) jealousy to make this story even more interesting!

Weekend Overview

It was a good, busy weekend. Friday night TheGuy came over and we made dinner, watched a couple movies and enjoyed strawberry daquiris courtesy of my new blender. It was neither the cheapest nor the most expensive -- just a middle of the road blender. I had been using an old hand-me-down blender that only blended 3/4 of its pitcher contents and that was only after multiple trial and error attempts using a wooden spoon to relocate the uncrushed ice cubes down near the blades. After reading reviews and not really finding exactly what I wanted, I settled, as I often do in love and life, for this Oster blender. It only has one speed -- on, but it seems to get the job done and according to reviews, it was the best bargain for my price range, as expressed by consumers and their 4 star rating.



Then Saturday we got up and went to the Minnesota Zoo because I was dying to see the Farm Babies exhibit. We fed baby goats and pet baby sheep, ducks, and bunnies. The baby pigs were pretty darn cute too. We headed to the gym afterwards where I did my first full squat on my second set and increased my 5 reps to 8 for the bench press. My quads were sore for a full four days after my first time doing squats but there's no soreness this time around!

On the relationship front, things are about the same. Am I stupid for hanging out with TheGuy after the whole email scandal? No doubt. But I have no delusions. I like that we spend a fair amount of time together yet we maintain our separate lives. While I'm wary and put off by the heavy, emotional stuff in a relationship, I very much enjoy having someone to embody that role of constant companion. This is what TheGuy fulfills -- my selfish desire for companionship. I never pictured us having a future together and I don't believe he does either. He still talks about wanting to teach English in Korea so I must not be much of a factor in his decision. Where that leaves us, I don't know. If I were a normal human being, I'd have broached the topic of conversation long ago. Normal? Far from that. I did meet his mom for the first time, as she's home visiting for a week, when I stopped by his house last night. She was nice and I was surprised to learn she not only knew I existed, but knew I had a cat.

Saturday night I went out with Ebeth to our usual bar with the usual people. Bumped into C-Sharp in the parking ramp so hung out with him a while too. In the bar, not the parking ramp. A few guys came up to me throughout the night, but I don't know whether they were actually hitting on me. One guy remembered me from college. I didn't know him, but knew of him because he was a nice, friendly guy, but I never would have recognized him. It's funny how you spend four years at a small college where you see all the same people around campus, at parties, and at the bars and never say one word to them but once you see them after college, you have no qualms about approaching one another.

Later on, a guy with thinning hair and a striped button-down shirt came up to me and said, "Do I know you from Vegas?" I'd seen him looking at me as if he knew me and I was wondering if it had been that Jason guy since he had texted me and I'd told him where I was. But as soon as he said Vegas, I breathed a sigh of relief. I believe my response was something like, "Uhhh..." Well, I was in Vegas a few months ago but I was really wasted 90% of the time so I guess anything is possible. Then he added, "Are you a writer/producer in Vegas?" I should have said yes and messed with him, but I didn't, prompting him to turn and walk away sheepishly. Was it a line? Maybe, but I don't think so. I saw him again later that night and he shot me a look of humiliation as he passed by.

Around 12:30, Jason sent a text saying he didn't know if he'd make it to the bar I was at, as he had planned on trying to stop by. I figured it meant he wasn't coming and Ebeth and I were already kinda bored so we both took off around 1. When I got to my car, I sent him a text letting him know I'd gone home early and he responded by saying that he was already on his way. So we missed one another by minutes. Oh well. He had told me, "It's all good" and "hit me up sometime" in his last text. All I know remember of him is this: 1.) He graduated from Eagan in 2000 so he's a year younger than me. I really hate that fact but I could probably deal. 2.) He played soccer. 3.) He lives in Bloomington and his parents live in Milwaukee. I programmed his last name into my phone because I already had another Jason in my phone book, so I'm pretty sure I found him on Facebook but I can't look at his profile and his picture is really tiny with a bunch of groomsmen. I guess I could ask him if he's on Facebook and add him as my friend or I could ask him if he wanted to meet for a drink, but I am kind of scared. And the anticipation of not knowing is probably way more exciting. But now I'm more curious than ever to know what he looks like.

Yesterday I went and saw my friend's baby. Babies don't like me, or maybe I don't like them, but he's undeniably cute. He was all smiles yesterday so that was definitely fun to see. Afterwards, I went and visited my old best friend from childhood. Truth be told, I'm racked with guilt anytime I hang out with her. When we were growing up, I was always the leader who made all the decisions in our little group. Then my family moved away when I was in 7th grade and things were never the same. My old best friend started hanging out with the wrong crowd and went drastically downhill from there. I often think about what would've happened if we hadn't moved. Obviously, I was only a kid at the time so I had little to no say when my parents decided to uproot our very important social lives and move to the boonies, but I know my best friend's life would be completely different today.

Ex & The City

Spoke with Platonic Ex last evening and learned my call to him the previous day went unanswered because he was having a four hour phone conversation (cut short due to his phone dying) with his ex. Given the circumstances, it doesn't really seem appropriate to make a wisecrack about her weight, but for the sake of referential purposes, it's the same chubby girl with no fashion sense.

Believe it not, I grew to like the girl despite never having met her. Through what I know, not only is she extremely bright, motivated, and adventurous, she could easily drink me under the table. Excellent. I thought they were good together. But eventually her extreme partying grew old for Platonic Ex -- the guy who once wrapped himself in a humongous roll of bubble wrap while eating cottage cheese three months past its' expiration date. Don't ask. There are plenty more equally stomach-churning stories where that came from.

You may recall his ex was the one who broke it off with him. Well, she wants him back in the worst way and can't have him. It's hard to get a straight answer from him but when I asked why he said he's not in love with her and "couldn't imagine waking up next to her every morning." About a month ago, he hung out with her with the intention of not sleeping with her. How do I put this delicately? He's a guy. Need I say more? So now he's the asshole who used her because he had no intention of getting back together with her. Yeah, not a smart move on his part.

Now she's saying she loved him before and began loving him even more after that they broke up. So much so, it's too difficult for her to be in the same state so she's moving to San Francisco. They both have jobs where they travel extensively and yet she can't handle six days out of the month knowing he's a short drive away. Man, it's not even my relationship and I feel sorry for the poor girl. Love sucks.

In case you any of you were wondering, Platonic Ex has continued keep in touch with the stalker he met on Facebook. In yet another wise move, he slept with her on the second date, though he found her utterly annoying. The calls, emails, IMs are relentless. On her end. Doesn’t she know? You’re supposed to wait ‘til the third date to give it up. Perhaps I should loan her my copy of this:

Running Goals

Though it's been an excruciatingly slow process, I've gradually begun to rebuild speed and distance with my running. I had a terrific run outside yesterday topping off around four and a half miles that could've extended to the six range, but I didn't want to overdo it. Plus I went to the gym in the evening with TheGuy where I continued to struggle when benching the bar, but at least my arm muscles aren't sore today. I also tackled squatting with the bar but it proved to be just as much of a challenge as I anticipated. My legs still burn. And once again, my horrible form caused me to look like a buffoon.

Short-term Goal: Running of the Pigs Part Deux. Last year RockStar and I participated in this 5K that marked the very first race for both of us. Naturally, there was a mixture of nervousness and excitement. This year, however, I can just relax and enjoy it! We've even recruited several others to join us so it should be a good time. In looking at the website, we were disappointed to notice we didn't make any of the photos so we plan to get noticed this year by sporting pink bandanas. The guys aren't too thrilled about it, but too bad for them.



Mid-term Goal: I'm going to do the Downtown Half which will be my first half marathon. It's an iPod friendly race that takes place right outside my apartment so how can I NOT do it? Plus there will be a lot of dogs there since they're having a couple 5K's where they allow you to run with one or two dogs. Unfortunately, I don't think Brody is up to the challenge. Maybe next year.



Long-Term Goal: I will do Twin Cities Marathon again. If I don't PR, I'll kill myself. Luckily, this is still a long ways off. Because I'm not mentally prepared to really start focusing on this yet.