When it rains, it pours...

It's time for people I've stopped speaking to over the years to attempt to talk to me. There's a back story to this that would take WAAAAAAAAAAAAY too long to explain for those new to this blog, but for those of you who've stalked your way to my new blog - I'm sure you'll understand all to well.

Anyhoo - it first started with the exboyfriend storm. Some guy I dated about a year and a half ago, and another that I dated over 3 years ago (he was a major boyfriend, unlike the first one) decided to e mail me within 3 days and strike up some kind of... kinship?

I dunno, I gave both pleasantly cold responses that basically said, hi, thanks for contacting, next time I'll contact YOU --- annnd haven't talked to either since.

Now this goes off the previous post - but I reacquainted with dreamboy, this past weekend, and today I get this message from fatboy:

Title: HOLD ON!!!
Body:
Don't delete...yet? Yes, this is the [name] that you once knew before you went to Med School. Yes, I have been following you, not stalking, just wondering what you were up to ha ha

Big craziness happened and I would love to fill you in some day. i figured, why not a drink after the craziness ended. I have a whole plethura of stories that will be written, i just have to find the perfect website developer, hint hint j/k.

If you want to B.S. and catch up on old times, you have my number. I think?

It came from a random myspace, with a fake name, and no picture - but it wasn't hard to figure out it was fatboy.

Who is fatboy you ask?

When I broke up with my most recent major boyfriend (yes it was 3 years ago) he was the mutual friend that I ended up finding out later -- wanted to fuck me. I was nice to him because he was my connection to the ex (though he volunteered no info other than to tell me that the ex always told him how good i was in bed - which made me very uncomfortable) and he was nice to me because he --- wanted to fuck me.

So after 6 months of trying to get with me (god I was naive), he finds some other girl at a country concert and plays the "you're jealous" card, and proceeds to piss me off with his deflection to the point where I just stop speaking to him. He was fat, ugly, and quite obviously not my type (I thought he was too old and annoying).

Anyway, I didn't really care about the ended friendship because I was busy pimping myself out and trying not to care that my exboyfriend left me for a 19 year old blonde bimbo in california.

The e mail amused me... but I wrote back because I, for one, have a lot of pride - and there's no way in hell I'd ever contact a person after the shit I said to him the night I realized what had been happening.

So I wrote back this:

Hi [name],
It's good hearing from you, I would ask why you have a blank myspace with a fake name, but I'm assuming that goes along with the craziness you were talking about in your e mail.

I left the country and traveled for a bit - so all my old numbers are gone. I'm on a pretty hectic schedule with the hospital anyway so I probably would be no fun to talk to between work, homework, gym and other shenanigans.

Hope all is well
[me]

I think I was nice, yet cold at the same time. I hope he doesn't try to see me... because he's seriously not my kind of people.

I have a feeling I'll regret this.

No soup for you.

When I was a freshman in college I had a huge crush on a guy in my university class. He was tall, blond, and gorgeous. He wanted to be a plastic surgeon and thought the class was a joke. I was the nerd who took it seriously, and would try to get his attention by being vocal in class.

The next semester we had biology together, it changed from me passing him and saying hi to him (he later told me he thought I was REALLY annoying) to me sitting next to him - I was such a stalker. We still never spoke, and I still had a huge crush. I vowed to get his attention.

Sophmore year, we had more sciences together. We were in organic together. This was the year I started to grow up a little. Freshman year... I had no confidence, a high school sweetheart I was breaking up with, and I lived at home. Sophmore year I joined the "hottest" sorority on campus, ("Wow, they think I'm pretty enough to get in!"), had boys asking me out, and moved out of the parents house. I had an pinning party one night and invited him out. Soon we started studying together and going to parties together. I would stay out late and start falling asleep in class only to wake up with drool on my face and him doodling stupid cartoons on my notes laughing about the stupid things I had done while drunk. He told me about his life during our all night study sessions and then informed me he had joined the armed forces... two weeks later 911 happened.

I freaked out a little, I had been infatuated with him from over a year now, and somehow before he left for bootcamp it all came together and my dreams came true. We made out and cuddled, and then he left.

I was hopelessly in love. I wrote him all the time, and would check the mail for his bootcamp letters (I still have them) telling me about all his shenanigans. The first ones told me he missed home, the last ones were more cold and rigid. By the time I saw him again between the break, it wasn't the same - but he was still my dreamboy.

He left for training, and would call me every saturday from a pay phone drunk(this is before the whole cell phone thing). By this time I had finished my sophomore year and was working in a restaurant to pay off my car, and my school. He would call before leaving for the club, I of course thought it was because we were in some way together, even though we weren't. I never kissed any other boys, I thought it might mess up my chances with my dreamboy -- god I was so naive.

He came back the beginning of junior year, and it was horrible. He didn't pay attention to me, and was... mean. By mean I don't mean mean to me - I mean he had gained 50 pounds of muscle, shaved his head, and would constantly start fights at parties I took him to. He would stare people down and act like he didn't care about a soul in the world. I didn't like him much anymore - but when he'd get drunk and we'd talk, I'd convince myself that he was still there. I made it my mission to take him everywhere with me, I was his only friend in college left, I would bring the old him back.

We took most of our electives together, but where as I moved on to harder classes, he resumed his sophomore semester. I still found it difficult to talk to him, as he was pessimistic and bitter -- so one day I sat down and wrote him a letter expressing every deep dark emotion I'd ever had for him. After holding on to it for two weeks I shoved it into his hand when he dropped me off and ran away. He never really mentioned it, and we practically stopped talking - unless it was for an assignment. Then he told me he was leaving for Iraq, and again, I freaked out.

He left the day after his 21st birthday. We threw him a surprise birthday party, and I paid a fraternity boy for the case of beer we got him. I made him a cake, he gave me his cover, and I cried.

Then he left, and I sat there heartbroken telling myself that one day - ONE DAY - he was going to want me, and he wouldn't be able to have me. I built myself up saying that I didn't need someone who didn't appreciate me. (*can I just jump in here now and say, DAMN I WAS SUCH A WHINER WITH NO SELF CONFIDENCE!!! UGH, SO ANNOYING!*)

Flash forward till today. He came back, and by that time I was dating the psycho. Dreamboy dated many of my sorority sisters (sorry, slept with, not dated) and crash on my couch for a year (yes, it was supposed to only be a month). By the end of our little stint we had begun to hate each other. I graduated college, and he was still in sophmore standing. We didn't speak for 3 years, and somehow, while I was out of country we built up communication again.

He's leaving for Iraq again - and decided he would come up to see me. Friday night we went out. He looked just like he did when I first met him. No shaven head, no huge muscles, no meanness, he just had his quirky humor and some beer. It was awkward at first, but after the first couple of beers we ended up having a good night. By the time we'd called each other out about our little fight and made amends - I was exhausted. I brought him out blankets and headed to my bed to pass out for the 3 hours I had before getting up to go to work.

He comes into my room to say good night, leaned over my bed for the hug, goes to kiss the cheek and... stays... lingering... "BAAD NO NO NO BAD BAD BAD BAD" was all I could really say, with him whispering, "I know I know" before leaning back in to try to kiss me, "NOOOO NO NO NO REALLY REALLY BAD, BAD BAD BAD BAD."

...

THE MOTHER FUCKER TRIES TO GET BACK WITH ME.

After the initial bad's and no's, he ended up bringing his blanket into my room and tried to start some kind of conversation with me while setting up shop on the floor. I think I fell asleep somewhere in the convo where he was telling me about how he missed me, and though I don't remember the specifics, it dealt with me always being there for him and how he always thought we'd end up together.

I still think he's my dream boy - but damn, when the whole turning them down after they've broken your heart thing happens, YOU WANT IT TO HAPPEN WHEN YOU CAN ENJOY IT.

Now I just feel bad... oops.

Things not to do in order to get a woman's attention

1. Make horribly loud kissy noises as she walks by, so loud that she can hear through her ipod music.

2. Make a beeline for her while walking by and leaning in muttering "SEXY" in a nasty deep throated voice.

3. Stare at her, blatantly STARE, at a crosswalk, so that she can feel your gaze until the godforsaken walk light turns on and she can get away from your creepy ass.

4. Stare at her, and when she finally looks in your direction make a nasty movement with your tongue (ugh, that's the worst! GROSS GROSS GROSS)

5. Whistle.

All of the above mentioned occurred yesterday on my walk home from the gym. I was beet red in the face, sweaty, and BLARING my ipod music. It was by far the most I've ever drawn only the attention of nasty, disgusting, GROSS men who thought the above mentioned techniques were appropriate. I mean really, do they think they're going to make that tongue gesture and I'm going to run over there and sit on their face? DISGUSTING!!!

I'm so grossed out right now.

Then I got a lecture from navy when I got home about walking to the gym alone, and needing a mace... *groan*

I'm going to take a self defense class.

Spiderman's got nothing on me

The other morning I wake up with my dog clawing my arm wimpering to go out. When he was a puppy I loved his ears, they were big, floppy, and omg soft. Now with him hovering over my face pawing, I wanted to grab him and play helicopter to see how far I could tote him away from me...

None the less, I groggily got up picked out work clothes through squinted eyes and sauntered over to the door to get his leash and take him out.

*side note* By the door we have the key stand. This is to place keys on so that they're easily accessible when you want to leave. My door is one of those annoying "always unlocked but you don't know if it's locked outside" doors.

(see where I'm going with this? Back to being groggy)

So I (in full work clothes and slippers) go to the door, look at my keys, and slam the door shut before my brain tells me to grab them.

Shit.

Immediate thought? Try door...

Locked.

SHIT.

I am now standing outside of my door with a whining pulling dog who needs to pee, without phone, key, or a number memorized to help me get back in. Oh yeah, did I mention I haven't told my landlord about my dog yet?... whoops.

Then I remember we left a window open in the living room.

YAAAAAAAAAAY, I'm saved!

Problem is, I live on the second floor... ok, plan B --- there's a fire escape I can climb...

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! I'm saved!!!

So I, content with this plan, take my doggie downstairs to pee, and carefully leave the front door open so I can get back in. While letting doggie roam in his favorite pee spot, I scout the perfect branch to help me knock down the fire escape. Plan B consists of knocking lever, stairs falling, me climbing.

So I head back to the door and start whacking (yes I did jump up and down while doing it) with all my might. But doggie was being a little brat and he was still tugging, so I was technically doing it one handed. So I took the loop of his leash, and looped it on some hook on the building.

This brought along plan C. After whacking a little bit (ok a lot bit) and realizing it wasn't working, I brilliantly devised a plan that would loop my dog's leash on the lever so that I may pull it with all my might, causing the stairs to fall, so that I may climb, and break into my living room window.

Problem: Doggie is attached to leash, and is a frequent runner when set loose.

I decide to stick him in the apt. building, and so I could make sure I didn't get locked out - I would pull the carpet over to the door to make sure it didn't shut all the way.

BRILLIANT!

So I take doggie inside, unclip him, and move carpet. It's all moving according to plan. Now -- before I go on, doggie is a very smart dog. He can find a way out of anything. He also has separation anxiety, and will stop at nothing to get to me if I'm nearby. --- So while closing the door behind me, to make sure he doesn't get out... I PULL THE DOOR AS TIGHT AS POSSIBLE TO MAKE SURE ITS CLOSED!

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!

Upon realizing this mistake, my instant thought: Try door

Locked

SHIT!!!
Now the puppy that no one knows i have is on the other side yelping and digging trying to get to me, and I'm on the other side in work clothes, slippers, and a leash with no dog.

*groan*

It's ok, on with the plan.

After a few lasso attempts, I hook the lever (YAY!) I tug a lot and it gets loose (YAY!) I tug some more and pull it free (YAAAAAAAAAAAAY!) Stairs start falling (YAY!) too fast (uh oh) *CRASH*

SHIT.

Then stairs start moving back up to the side (SHIT SHIT SHIT)

So I make a flying leap, to catch the stairs, I need to climb, after pulling the lever, so that I may break into my living room window.

I catch the stairs, take a deep breath, and start climbing.

Eventually I make it to my apartment, I unhinge the window, move our pet goldfish bernadette (who has thyrotoxicosis and the bulging eyes to go with it) and climb my way in. I run to the door to run downstairs and grab doggie --- only to find him sitting in front of the door with his tail wagging.

Little shit.

I grab the phone and call work to tell them I'm going to be late.

I look back at the room.

The screen is unhooked, the fire escape is down - and I'm pretty sure the whole neighborhood has seen me in my work clothes and slippers thinking I'm some sort of hoodlum trying to break in.

So I open our fire escape window and go back out to fix my mess. (doggie starts barking at momma to come back in because she's too far away)

I fix the screen and make my way over to the fire escape to push the lever back into place, that allowed me to climb the stairs, to my apartment, and break into my living room window. Easy, right?

So I position myself (still in work clothes, and slippers) grab the stairs, and pull.

OOOOOOOOOOOW!!!

THIS SHIT WILL NOT COME BACK UP!

SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT

but wait!

The stairs have a counter lever platform. If I can get on that, and push it down, while pulling the lever to hold the stairs into place, I'm golden! However, this requires me to bend my body in very unnatural angles THROUGH the stairs while still grappling the railing and controlling the lever.

I try anyway.

After 10 minutes of karma sutra, yoga, whatever the hell it is people in the circus do that bends their bodies into extended unnatural shapes - I mustered enough of my body onto the platform, to lift the stairs, so that I may push the lever into place.

it took 5 minutes to get my body out of the position i put it in to get pressure on that damn platform, but I hike it back through my window, quiet my dog, put my hair in a ponytail and rush out of my house --- only to make it to work 10 minutes early, looking like shit, with a grease stain on my shirt.

BUT I had my keys in hand, cell phone, and I beat it before the other intern. TAKE THAT SPIDERMAN!