Magical weekend

As I said before, My Aunt had a party this weekend. She was inviting all sorts of people from the O, including Cheesy Fries. Cheesy Fries and I had an important moment this weekend - I realized that My Aunt was totally right and we would not work. Why? Because he's just like The Statie. He's cocky and full of himself and totally LAME. He would be a good drinking buddy, but that's about it. He was amusing to talk to and it was good to see that there was nothing there. There were some other guys there from the O and I dig them. There's Wren, who's so cute and adorable and I want to take him home and squeeze him. He's rather awesome and My Aunt (even though she has a boyfriend) wants Wren. Oh no, not for you. Then there's 'Lil Steve and he's adorable. We were playing beruit and losing so badly and everytime I took a shot he would say "Carrie baby, please make this one. C'mon sweetheart, it's all you" and I would laugh and laugh. And he smelled so good. I wanted to tell him that, but it was a little creepy.

That wasn't the fun part though. Not at all. At 1 AM, The Statie calls. He does. I maybe had been drinking for like...almost 12 hours by that point. I maybe was playing flip cup and winning. The phone started ringing and I HAD to answer it. How could I not? I'm standing around the table with My Aunt's Boyfriend, Cheesy Fries, Wren, 'Lil Steve and another girl My Aunt works with. I tell the boys that they just need to start screaming obsentities at the person on the phone. So they do. They're drunk and they did what I said. I laughed and laughed and then passed the phone to Darcy so that I couldn't do it again. I knew I would. Then at 1:13 AM, he sent me a text that said: "just wanted to say hello. Hope youre doing well. Hoped to think i could still talk to you. Guess not. Night Carrie". Excuse me. The last time I talked to him I told him to NEVER call me or text me again. Ever. I didn't know there was a grey area there that maybe people got confused about. Guess there was. Also, even if I wanted to talk to you, why are you calling at 1 AM? Granted, it was a Saturday and chances were that I was awake anyway, but why are you calling at that time? That's no way to get on my good side.


Then at 1:34 AM, he calls again. I don't have my phone, Darcy does. She doesn't answer and doesn't tell me that it's ringing. That's probably for the best.

At this point, I tell My Aunt that The Statie is calling and she's totally livid. She knows what happened and how he's crazy stalker man. She texts him and tells him that I'm busy and to never call or text me again. Which I already explained to him. I'm continuing to play flip cup and laughing with the boys.

2:15 AM, I get another text. I didn't edit this at all, this is the way it came to me. "Ok.Glad you were my practice girlfriend.Thanks for proving ican have actually attractive girls fuck me.Better thanyou but thats not sayingmuch.Cry to sleep ;)"

Oh ho? Is that so? You think I'm crying myself to sleep because I'm done with you and your stupidness? And as for being a practice girlfriend - I wasn't. But even if I was, I was a damn good one. I loved him and treated him well and was way nicer to him than I should have been. What amuses me is that he sent this as if a YEAR AND A HALF LATER it would have some sort of effect on me. I'm so totally and completely over him. He's not in my thoughts and he never comes up in conversation and I don't care what he has to say. I've already gone over all the reasons that I was too good for him, but here's another one. Yes, My Aunt should have probably not said anything to him, but she's just as tired of this shit as I am. As as for those actually attractive girls? Lilo put it best "pictures or it never happened". I don't want pictures but I can guess those girls aren't as pretty as I am. And furthermore, I'm sure all those girls are rather disappointed with what he's packing. It was kind of sad. I'll admit it. Yes, I did date him for over a year, but we got along well when we were dating and I was willing to overlook his...er...shortcomings. And I mean shortcomings in several very different ways. I'm not saying anymore. I think you all get it.

You think you did anything to me with that text? You're so wrong. In fact, it amused me. Right after I got it, I looked at Darcy and I said "I'm going to blog about this. I really can't wait". So I did. Thanks for the inspiration, Statie. Hope this "hot" girl of yours can read and write. If she works at Pricechopper (which is my guess) she might not have even graduated from high school. If that's your thing, then okay! Just remember, I'm fucking awesome. You. Are. Not.

Whoa

Lots of things happened last night and I promise a full update tomorrow. But let me tell you, my life is SO interesting even without dating someone. Seriously

Weird weekend

Radio Flyer asked me out for Friday night. I have not answered him. To be fair, I was drinking for 3 days straight, so I couldn't be expected to answer anyone about anything. I still think I have something going on, but looking at my planner and all the calendars in my life, I really have nothing. I should tell him whether I want to or not soon. Yes, I should.

Saturday night I went with my aunt to see Cheesy Fries. He had left work before I got there because his shift ended. I'm starting to think it's not worth the damage to my liver to keep on trotting out there.

But neither of those things were weird. Those things are both pretty normal. No, the weird thing happened on Friday evening. I had been drinking maybe a lot. Just maybe. My phone rings and I didn't recognize the number. I knew it wasn't the Statie boyfriend, who called last week. He's in the 518 area code. This was a different number. I answered...and it was Bootcamp Boyfriend. He's leaving bootcamp. I guess he cracked under the pressure or something of bootcamp. He's getting discharged this week and flying back to Syracuse. I'm standing there in some sort of shock. This guy was tough, mentally. He played all sorts of head games. He doesn't properly express feelings and generally is an asshole. Somehow, someone at the bootcamp got into his head and screwed him all up. I was worried for a bit because no matter how much I hate him, I still don't want anything bad to happen to him. He assured me that he was okay and that he was coming back east. He also told me that I was the only girl for him. Uh, what now? What the hell are you talking about? Then last night, I was off doing stuff (watching a movie I will blog about in a second) and he IMed me. He just left a message of nonsense, but still. Now he's in my brain. He's in my dreams again. In my dreams, he's always fabulous. He is always all those things I wanted him to be and all the things he was before whatever went wrong with him went wrong.

I just don't understand why I can bury the thoughts of Weston Footballer, The Reject, Maine Man and The Statie, but I can't get him out of my head. He's in there. It was a long and hard relationship, one that you would think that I would want to bury in that place in my head where things that make me sad go. But it's out in the open, rolling around and causing trouble. My brain clearly hates me too, because it's bringing out all the good times we had together, not the horrible times that I cried my eyes out and just hoped that he would either love me more or drop dead so that I didn't have to deal with him. I know I'm different now and it shouldn't bother me. But he's the same. Bootcamp hasn't changed him into the guy that he so badly needed to be 3 years ago. Just get out of my brain, Bootcamp Boyfriend. Get. Out.

The movie I watched last night was Wristcutters: A love story. And it was. It was about love in the afterlife, after all. And I felt so tingly and sad all at once. I think about who I was, again in relation to the Bootcamp Boyfriend and I'm so glad that I'm out.

Quick update, but more later

I just got a text from Nacho. He said that he was sorry that he might have said things about me when he was drunk and he hoped that we could be friends again someday soon. No, I don't think so. I'm not replying to the text message and I bet I will get another one or two before the day is through.

Last night I went out with my aunt and we saw cute waiter man. I have taken to calling him Cheesy Fries as that's what he brought my brothers last weekend. I was formally introduced to him and we talked about Harry Potter. My aunt says that he was kind of psyched to meet me (cause let's face it, I'm the bees knees) but he got all jammed up? I don't know the exact details, but I'll find them out, damnit!

Last night...she saidddddddd

As you might remember, I went out with Radio Flyer last night. He is really nice and he bought me a beer or two and we just talked about stuff. Nothing really important. He noticed that I got my hair highlighted and he told me how pretty it looked. Well, duh. I’m awesome. Not much else happened. He said that we should hang out again. His sister is getting married next weekend and he’s going to be giving her away and I thought that was cute.

Radio Flyer is cute. He’s a very nice boy. But much likeThe Graduate, I don’t know if he can handle me. As usual, after I go out with a boy, I call Reaper. Reaper said something last night that was brilliant…and it was along the lines of I need someone that can be fun with me but know when to bring me back down. I need an edgy rock? Is that what he said? I don’t remember. He's totally right though. I need a guy that can roll with the punches but know when the punching should stop. Or something.

Something else happened and I'm looking for opinions. Reaper thinks it's a joke gone wrong, and I might have to agree with him, but I would love to know what my devoted followers think. As we were leaving the bar, there was a sign for my english teacher's band and the next date they were playing. I was saying how one day Darcy said that they should play at my wedding and all this stuff about my imaginary wedding or something. We somehow got on the 20 year plan and he was like "hey, we could have a 20 year plan" and I told him I already had a 20 year plan. With Reaper. I told him that if something happened between Reaper and I or Reaper was offed, then he could be my 25 year plan. He's like "so I guess that means we're engaged now?" and I said, no we'll be engaged in 25 years. It was just weird, but now that I think more about it, I could see myself saying that. I just found it a bit strange is all.

On Saturday night, I am going out with my aunt to Outback. Where Cheesyfries works. Should be an interesting night regardless.

I'm awesome

Radio Flyer texted me last night and wanted to know what I was doing. I told him I just got home from work (cause I did) and that I was planning on going to the gym. He wanted to ask me out for a drink. I asked him what time and he said that we could meet up at like 9:30 or 10. I don't want to sound like an old person...but that's fucking late. Seriously! I'm usually in my pajamas by 10, so to be meeting someone at that time would be like, hard on me. Also, I wasn't in the right mindframe. I sometimes I have to get myself excited to do things. This is one of those things. So instead we are going to meet up on Thursday night, which should be fine. Then comes the next logical question...what do I wear?

I have to be honest - after I graduated from college, I gained some weight. It's not like I was ever skinny to begin with, but the beer and the pizza and all the other shit I was eating caught up to me. So I had cute "going out to the bar with a boyfriend that I already had" clothes, but nothing to get guys. As I've mentioned, I went to school in upstate NY and it was pretty cold. Everyone wore lots of clothes all the time. You didn't want to freeze to death. That being said, I'm now trying really hard to get the weight off that I put on. Which is a problem because nothing I own really fits anymore. My jeans are too big, but the next size down is too small. So do I wear jeans that are kind of big and hope for the best? Probably. There’s nothing I can do except lose more weight so a pair of pants actually fits me.

And since I'm a girly girl deep down, I have slutty underpants. We all do. Those are the underpants that you wear when you want to feel good about yourself. And if someone happened to see you in those underpants – well, you’d rock them 6 ways from Sunday. I know these underpants do the job of rocking. I’m not getting into how I might know these facts, but I do. The slutty underpants are almost fitting my ass, so that’s good. That’s the plan. Get my slutty underpants to fit and I’ll know that I’m getting back to where I want to be.

I pretty much always ask Summer what I should wear before I go out. She’s got some style and sass and well, I could learn a thing or two from her. And always, when I ask, she says “you need to wear the good bra”. Really? Do I? She tells me every time and it makes me laugh. The “good bra” is a bra I got from Victoria’s Secret. And the reason its good and the big secret is that it has like, little gel things in it that make your boobs look bigger. And feel very real. Much like the slutty underpants, I have received this information from some reliable sources. So I have a couple of those and I ordered a new one that Summer has - but since VS sucks a big one, my order is not here. My date is creeping up on me and I wanted to wear the good bra AND IT IS NOT AT MY HOUSE. I very much want to wear it.

The thing with the “good bra” that I worry about is once I take it off (if that’s happening) will it be that noticeable a difference? Then I think that if some guy is willing to go that extra step with me (god that sounds so not right) he’s not going to care. Is it lying to make my breasts seem larger than they really are? Or is it just giving them a little push in the right direction – that would be the hot direction.

In other totally interesting news, I went out with my aunt and my brothers on Saturday night to the resturant that her boyfriend works at. There was a cute waiter man there. Cute waiter man thought I was pretty. My aunt is trying to see what she can do. C'mon cute waiter man. Give me something good(er) to write about