Loony

There comes a time in every girl's life when she gets a phone call from a friend who wants to know if [insert guy's name here] has a girlfriend and if she could have his number for [insert lame excuse here].  And at that time, you realize you really have no excuses not to give her the number, and you can only postpone it for so long by telling her you want to make sure it's okay to give out his number to someone else.

There comes a time when you watch the day go by and hold your breath while you wait for the verdict on the girl.

What?  That doesn't happen to every girl?

                               It must be my luck then.

Finally, after so long (but really, it was only a few hours), you find out that there was no chemistry, no "click".  You exhale.  And life becomes good again.  Sort of.

Broken.

http://www.elysex.net/one-word-blog-day-official-rules/

It's official, this song is my song.  Back off.

I've been waiting a long, long time for a moment like this.

It's one of those things that you can only fantasize about, but you know will never happen.

Meet Jean (pronounced like John).  I used to work with him.  I always thought he was cute but I never allowed myself to like him particularly because nothing would come out of it and I knew he was just way out of my league.  He's your typical 21-year-old.  He likes to go out, drink, party, hang out with Barbie doll look-alikes, etc.  As I am the girl that guys *always* see as that friend they can talk to about their relationships, sometimes he'd sit by my desk and we'd talk about his current girlfriend or love interest.  It was always nice, specially because I was usually alone in the office, or accompanied by a sixty-something, half-deaf lady.  But anyway, I was content with having some eye-candy every once in a while.

On to my story.

Last Friday I went out to the usual place, with Ricky and a few other friends.  After dancing a long and fun salsa set, someone taps me on the shoulder.  I turn around and there's Jean.  We say hi, I tell him I'm surprised to see him there since that's not the type of music he likes, etc. and introduce him to Ricky.  I keep dancing with Ricky and on another break, he comes up to me and says,

"I didn't know you could dance like that."

Score.  I felt like the ugly geek in the romantic comedy who gets a make-over at the end of the movie.  I just shrugged and smiled, told him we should definitely dance something later.  Apparently, that "later" meant "10 seconds later" to him, and I don't usually decline a dance invite, so I start dancing with him although I don't particularly like that music.  About 2 songs later, I tell him I'm going to take a break, he says he'll be back later for another dance.  Cool.

He came back about an hour later.  Asked me to teach him how to dance salsa (I don't know why guys always assume I can teach them?) and I started teaching him the basic step and he had fun.  I kind of brushed him off after a few and he asked me if he could dance a merengue with me, so I said sure.  He left, came back when a merengue was playing, and then just kind of... followed me and sat with me and my friends.

At this point I'm sure he was a little boozed, and although he wasn't trying to make a move on me yet, I could tell he kept wanting to carry out a conversation.  And then, out of nowhere, he says...

"I don't know how to tell you this.... I... I don't know why, but I find you really hot tonight."

What the hell?  Did Jean just call me 'hot'?  I had no come-back for that.  I don't think I've ever been called hot... I gave him a pat on the shoulder and said,

"I know why.  It's because you're drunk, Jean."

And I lol'ed inside as he told me that he wasn't drunk, and some other sweet-talk nonsense that I blocked out.  There he was, the hot guy who, had I liked him, would've never given me the time of day, suddenly wanted to make a move on me... and I wasn't interested.  I turned around and gave Ricky a "please-take-him-away-from-me" look, who laughed and got Mike to do the dirty job this time.

He who said that revenge is sweet, will be forever quoted for truth.

As I closed the door behind me to go to work, I spotted a little tail hiding behind a plant pot thing that my mom has next to the door.  At first glance, I thought it was the little kitty that is friends with my mom's cat and likes to hang around the house (I couldn't see its head) but when it looked up, it was definitely not a cat.  I think it was a possum (I'm not very familiar with these animals).  It didn't run away or try to jump at me or anything, so I stood still and slowly pulled out my phone to try and snap a picture, which by the way didn't work because my camera phone sucks.

I looked at it and said out loud, "So are you trying to take a bite at the turles?"  (The turtles are in the pond next to where it was lying).  I swear it gave me the saddest look anything with eyes can give you, and very slowly tried to move, dragging his hind legs.  It was as if it was answering my question:  "No, I'm hurt, see!"  Then it started dragging itself away from me, and I saw one of its legs completely flat, both obviously broken... and I teared up.  There was nothing I could do, I was already late for work and I didn't even know what kind of animal it was.

I called my roommate, which isn't much help because she doesn't speak English, but I told her about the little creature so that she could look for it when she got home.  I hoped it would still be alive then.  When she got home, she called me and told me that it was dead, in the middle of our driveway.  She called the neighbor so he would throw it out or something, and that's when they found out that it was, in fact, a she, and it had 5 babies that were still alive and attached to their mom's nipples.  The saddest part is that they called some people to come rescue the poor little babies, and they charged a minimum of $170 to pick them up.  Really?!?!  Not ten bucks, or twenty, or even fifty.  A fucking minimum of $170.  Money which neither of us have.

I didn't want to hear the details about what our neighbor did with them.  I just know that when I got home, they weren't there.  I think I know what happened -or will happen- to the babies, but I don't even want to think about it.  I can't help but to feel so horrible about everything though.  There's this little creature who was obviously run over and hurt by a car and she managed to drag herself all the way to my front porch -which is a good 40 ft away from the street, given that it happened right in front of my house- and it's like she came all the way to my door for me to do something, to help her.  And I didn't.  I didn't know what to do, and although I doubt that something could've been done to save her, I'm sure the babies could've survived.  I can't believe that whoever is responsible for picking up stray animals would charge such a ridiculous amount.  Who has $170 to spare just like that?  I know I don't.

Note to the rest of animals that may show up at my doorstep:  I'm not reliable.  Don't come to me asking for help.  It will just break my heart a little more.

So I guess I'm doing this meme thing that Dez tagged me with:

The meme consists of four questions requiring four answers, and then the tagging of four people

4 Jobs I’ve Had in My Life:
- Video store
- Movie theatre
- Church office
- Nanny

4 Shows I DVR
I don't have DVR

4 Places I’ve Been
- Disney World
- Cuba (I cheat!)
- Dominican Republic
- Austin, TX

4 Favorite Foods
- Chicken
- Fried eggs
- Swiss rolls
- Chocolate mini doughnuts

4 People I Tag
- Nicole
- David

I don't have two other people...  Wait, wait, I do!

- Christina
- G

Dear hot stranger in the white pick-up truck:

When you saw me in the car next to yours while waiting for the traffic light to turn green and started flirting with me -and eventually begging me for my phone number- you didn't know that I had actually only had one hour of sleep the night before and still hadn't finished the stupid English paper that was due that same day.  It didn't help that I was also late to class.  I was driving like a zombie, half asleep when you started talking to me from your car and asked me if I was cold since I was putting my sweater on.

People never notice me, and definitely not hot guys.  You did, on the day I was feeling and looking like crap.  That's why I ventured off and shouted my number as the light turned green.  Thank you for calling me and being so sweet and telling me you thought I was very pretty.

You made my day.

Sincerely,
                Me.

P.S.:  Thank you for calling today again.

So I woke up last Saturday and decided that I needed a haircut.  Not as much as 'decided', but finally did it.  I went to Wal*Mart -yes, I said Wal*Mart!- and found the lady that my friend had recommended.  I gestured aimlessly with my hands and told her in my tomboy-ish vocab what I wanted done, and happened to mention how I had been thinking of dying my hair... I came home looking like this:

Ms. Ginger

I know, G.  I have ginger hair and you won't talk to me anymore.  I'm sorry.  I'll miss you!

New hair, part 2. Thinking? Sad? Drunk?! The world may never know...

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Share a song you recently realized you can't get enough of... no matter how many times you listen to it.

See You Again

Miley Cyrus

I'm here to settle a debt.  Real late, I know, but here nonetheless.

It all started on my birthday, when I got this piece of clothing that we will here on now refer to as The Red Shirt from Mars (better than its original name, 'The Ugly').  Instead of being supportive, G decided that it would be fun to have me wear it and quickly set up a petition on his blog and got other bloggers to support his idea.  Even my so-called friend David got in on the petition, to my surprise and dismay.

And so, after a few threats from G-Man himself,

you will be banned from my site if you don't do that picture!!!

You have no shame!

You promised and it's been MONTHS!!!

and [the latest!] a Martian curse, I'm back to settle this once and for all.  I apologize in advance for not making the shirt look hot... I tried.  I'm a dancer, not a magician.  And please, dispel the curse from my unborn children.  Thanks.

First, a MySpace shot, cause I rawk like that

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And if you ever tell anyone... I'm gonna kill you.

Don't tell!