Wednesday, December 31, 2008

2008 By the Numbers

Severely Sprained Ankles: 1
Times I Left Michigan: 2
Meals At My Favorite Restaurant Near My House: 3
Professional Athletes Who Asked Me On A Date: 1
Grade Point Average through 2008: 3.95
Number of Times I Picked Up A Very Drunk Darren and Drove Him Home: 2
Tattoos acquired: 1
Boys I Kissed: 0
Boys Who Kissed Me: 0
Days Between My First 5K and My Second 5K: 193
Average Number of Cups of Coffee I Drink Per Day Since “Quitting”: 1
Number of Work Potlucks I Participated In: 3
Number of Pistons, Tigers, Lions and UM Football Games I Attended: 0
Movies I saw with Lucy: 3
Meals at Morton’s: The Steakhouse: 2
Classes I Took: 7
Number of Times I Spoke With Colin On The Phone: 0
Number of Coworkers “Let Go” From Our Place of Employment: 4
Number of Emails In My Sent Items Folder As Of 12/30/08: 12,488
Weddings I Attended: 1
Wakes I Attended: 2
Number of Cakes I Baked For Coworkers: 3
Days I Took Off But My Boss Made Me Work Anyway And I Was Dumb Enough To Do So Even Though You All Told Me Not To: 1
Trips to Ikea: 4
Approximate Number of Bran Muffins I Ruined By Doubling the Baking Power and Soda: 16
Number of Times I Got a New Cell Phone: 2
Matt Nathanson Concerts Attended: 2
Miles Driven from Here to Chicago For NYE: 276.68

Happy New Year, ya'll! Catch ya' on the flip side. XO

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Is sending a letter cowardly?

Dear Cough,

Please go away. I have enjoyed our two weeks together, but I think we’re due for some time apart.

Certainly you have something to do with how I feel. Lethargic and lifeless and disinterested. I’ve certainly felt crappier, but your linger has lost its luster. I want to go to the gym. I want to sleep on my side.

And I want to go to Chicago without dreading it, which is pretty much what I’m doing at this point. Because feeling crappy at home is bad enough. Feeling crappy on the road is infinitely worse. I’m supposed to stay up all night on New Years Eve when all I want to do is sleep? You expect me to sit outside at watch that hockey game, when I don’t want to get out of bed? Please cough, with all of your rotten symptoms, please just go away.

We could try a separation. For the next three days. Come back if you want. If being away from me is too hard. I’ll welcome you back with open arms next weekend. I just need some space. Some time to think. (And to drive to Chicago. Drink in the new year. Watch the Wings and the Blackhawks. Drive back home.)

Do it for me. I am begging you.


Saturday, December 27, 2008


I mentioned that my cousin Liz is separated from her husband. (It doesn't look like reconciliation is in their future.)

I mentioned that Liz and her friend were coming with us to Chicago for New Years Eve.

I might have even mentioned that I have no idea why Liz wanted to go to the NHL's Winter Classic at Wrigley Field. Because, as far as I know, Liz has absolutely no interest in hockey whatsoever. And never has.

And, knowing her friend, I am quite certain that going to that game was of no interest to her either. I'm not sure her friend even knows what a sport is.

So this is very unusual, but I don't think much of it. Whatever the reason Liz wants to go to the game is her business. Hopefully she can find tickets. (She did.)

On Christmas Eve, the truth comes out.

Well, not really. On Christmas Eve, Liz tells us that her friend isn't going. "She is going on a cruise with her family," she says. "My friend Dan is coming instead."


Liz's friend was never going. She was taking this "friend," Dan, all along. That is why she obsessively asked me about getting tickets to that game. She was trying to get tickets for Dan.

Dan is a hockey fanatic. We met him at Liz's wedding - he talked lots and lots of hockey with Meg. And then proceeded to see her play every time she played a college in Ohio. I believe that we've labeled him a creeper. (Which now is a little awkward.)

So I'm telling this story to Ashley yesterday. She agrees, the friend was never going. Only Dan. A "friend," who may or not have been Liz's estranged husband's buddy, who is obsessed with hockey. It makes perfect sense.

Midway through the conversation, a light bulb goes off in my head. "HOLY SHIT!" I exclaim to Ashley. "Liz...hahaha...oh my God."

"Tell me," Ashley laughs.

"Liz forwarded me her hotel reservation. And I spent the longest time trying to figure out why she'd booked a room with one king-sized bed for her and her friend."

And now we know.

Later in the day, I repeat the same story to my mother.

My mom laughs. "She probably didn't know how to tell you she was going to Chicago for a bang up job!"

So there you go. Awkward and scandalous. She's still married!

Friday, December 26, 2008

Holiday Recap

So, Christmas is over already? It is really insane, when you think about all of the preparation that goes into one day. Well, two. One and a half, I suppose, if you work on Christmas Eve. (I did.)

I’m sitting here at my desk, drinking gingerbread coffee. There’s a big ol’ frosted cinnamon roll resting just out of reach. I think I’m the only person in the building. Call it Christmas hangover.

All in all, the Christmas holiday was a good one. The awkward cloud of horrible that has hung over my mom’s family since Christmas of 2006 has all but disappeared (cousin Evan still doesn’t do much more than stare at us in disdain, but the kid comes off like he’s the fucking unibomber so whatever). We had some nice family time. A lot of food. The standard.

A mad game of Pictionary broke out on Christmas Eve. My dad’s sister, Lynn, brings it every year and every year we refuse to play. She succeeded this year. And the youngins (my cousins, my sister and me) spanked the geriatrics. Holla.

Mom and Dad spoiled me, like usual, and Meg bought me a few cute things, too. My mom went absolutely ape shit over the Dyson vacuum we got her. Meg liked her Sing Star game. Blue was wild for her Loofa Dog toy multipack.

With the extended family, we did presents a little differently this year. Instead of each aunt/uncle buying presents for each of the nieces and nephews, the cousins all drew names and had to buy a gift for whomever they drew. That was okay. Even though I walked away with one present from my dad’s side of the family and three from my mom’s side of the family (Grandma and Aunt Marie insisted on buying, even though it was against the rules), it didn’t feel any less like Christmas than other years where I’d have two or three presents from each of my aunts and uncles.

So apparently the holiday really isn’t all about the gifts.

Go figure.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Thrill of the chase

The Shopping Gods were with me last night.

Reasons unknown, I decided yesterday that I needed to get my sister another present. Specifically, I wanted to get her another Sing Star game for her Playstation. More specifically, I wanted to get her the Pop, Volume 2 edition.

Looked online at Best Buy's website. None in stock at any of the local stores. Looked online at Target's website. Same.

Okay. Sing Star: Pop, Volume 2? Probably not going to happen, seeing as how there are no copies in the entire state of Michigan. But I'd pick her up another version of the game, which is basically karaoke that the system grades. The country music edition was so out, but I could make do with one of the others.

Best Buy is right by my work. I drove there straight after I left for the day. In a mild blizzard. No luck. They didn't have any Sing Star games.

From there, I went to Target, which is right down the street. I strike out again. They only have Sing Star: Country. It wasn't an option.

At this point, I'm starting to freak out a little bit. I don't feel like I have enough for Meg and I'm so set on this idea and I have no others.

There's another Target on my way home. At this point, traffic is painfully slow and my feet are soaking. Oh, and they don't have the game.

I have a good sense of direction and a radar for Target stores, so I make a mental map of the other Target stores I can hit on a roundabout drive to my house. The roads are a real mess. I figure I'll be lucky to be home by 9:30. And I formulate a backup plan - there's a sporting goods store a few miles from my house - in case I don't hit the jackpot.

For whatever reason, I decide to take a different road north than I'd normally choose. It is after I turn that I remember this road has a Best Buy and a Toys 'r' Us. It was worth a try.

I go to Best Buy first. And there, behind 10 versions of Sing Star: '80s edition, is the crown jewel. (Sorry person who most definitely hid it there.) What I was looking for in the first place. What the Best Buy website said was completely unavailable anywhere in metro Detroit.

Oh, Sing Star: Pop, Volume 2, how happy I was to see you. The 20 minutes in line? Not so bad when I was clutching you to my bosom. My feet did not seem so wet. The snowfall did not seem so heavy. And the absolute insanity that had gripped me all but disappeared.

Meg better like it.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Playing the pleaser and the planner

This Chicago trip for New Years is becoming mildly exhausting to even think about.

We have 6 girls in our group. My cousin Liz, Liz’s friend, my work BFF Ashley, Meg, Meg’s friend and Meg’s friend’s friend. Oh, and me.

And there’s all of this crap to be organized. And, I swear, nobody is doing anything.

First, we needed to find Liz and her friend tickets to the Winter Classic. We succeeded. (Thankfully.)

Then, there is the whole issue of the hotel. We have four rooms booked at one hotel. One for Liz and her friend. One for Ashley and me. One for Meg, Meg’s friend and Meg’s friend’s friend. And an extra room, because Liz has two more friends who might show up.

Our rooms aren’t obscenely priced. But I’d really like to see if I could get a better deal on Priceline. (Am reasonably certain that I could shave $40 of $50 off each room per night.) But, I can’t get Liz to commit. Because then her phantom friends who might show up wouldn’t have a room.

Finally, there is the whole issue of New Years Eve. There are many criteria that need to be filled. Wherever we go needs to be: fun, close to our hotel, not too expensive (Meg’s friend and Meg’s friend’s friend are budget traveling and it is really cramping my style) and, of course, be okay with everyone in our party. I don’t want to even get involved in this because, hi, wherever I choose will definitely be lame ass and then everyone will be pissed with me.

This is all very stressful.

I just want everyone to be happy and for everything to run smoothly. I don’t want to end up at some party with a ridiculous cover charge and an open bar that is so busy that we never get any drinks. I don’t want to be trying to get a cab in the blustery winds of Chicago because we’re terribly far from our hotel. I don’t want to talk Liz into using Priceline for our hotel rooms and end up at somewhere craptastic. I don’t want poor Ashley to want to strangle herself because she has to sleep in a room with Meg, Meg’s friend and Meg’s friend’s friend.

And I’d like to have a bit of fun myself. If it is at all possible, with all of this worrying about everyone else that I must subject myself to.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Bitchin' and moanin'

It is 1°F in Detroit right now.

This shit is obscene. It is nearly impossible to function. I went outside to get my hockey equipment out of my car and, I swear, I saw my life flash before my eyes. Not funny, Mother Nature. Not funny at all.

The weather has me crabby.

The weather, among other things, has me crabby.

Other things:
1. This nagging cough I have. Nothing like waking up in the middle of the night and coughing to that point where you're thisclose to puking.
2. My boss. It's bad enough that (I'm embarrassed to admit) I went in to work on Thursday. He all but asked me to go into the office today. Not happening, buddy.
3. I'm going in to work early tomorrow. I'm sure it won't be early enough for my boss and I'm sure that I don't care.
4. Our neighbors. They live below us and they don't do shit. But they've been MIA for weeks now - since the fall - and we haven't missed them a bit. They randomly appear tonight. Park in the driveway. The driveway that had 10 inches of snow on it. That we shoveled. Inconsiderate.
5. I told my mom that I was getting my hair cut tomorrow and she's all "don't end up with a bubble!" Seriously? Now you're worried that I'll cut it too short? Fuck, lady, you should really just come with me.
6. Everything. I'm sick and I'm cold and the world is a miserable place!

Friday, December 19, 2008

It's cold, I'm sick, it's winter

Holy colossal snowstorm!

We got hit with a big one today.

My drive to work was a bit treacherous but, overall, I can't complain. I did not drive into a ditch. I didn't get stuck. I moved at a steady 25 or 30 MPH. And I was only 5 minutes late.

The meteorologists have been hyping this storm for a few days now; it was not unexpected. I set my alarm early, threw on my North Face and my boots and went directly to the sidewalk.

I kind of like shoveling. When it's really quiet, and you can't hear much other than your shovel scraping against the sidewalk and the muted sound of falling snow. It's a really solitary activity. This morning, it felt like I was the only person in the world.

Which was identical to the feeling I had when I started my morning commute.

Which was identical to the feeling I had when I got into the office.

It was more amusing when I was shoveling.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

I am the only one who can do my job

We got a nice helping of snow last night – 3 inches or so of light snow that wasn’t too much of a burden to shovel. It’s starting to feel like Christmas!

I’m thrilled to be finished with my classes. That does a damn lot to make it feel like Christmas, too.

While we’re on the merry subject: I have a dilemma for you all.

I took tomorrow off of work. With all of the pilings on that consisted of this last semester, I thought I’d need a day to throw together the Christmas joy. I reminded my boss of this yesterday and he’s all “oh, man, well, uh, so I said you could have Thursday off? Gee, we have so much to do. It isn’t really you have something planned or are you trying to use up your PTO days before the end of the year?”

I told him that I’d try to switch around my schedule and talk to him about it today.

What the hell am I supposed to do?

I mean, yes, we do sort of have a lot to do. Not an oppressive amount, but it is a little busy around here.

But, if I don’t take tomorrow off, I’m set to lose three vacation days at the end of the year. And that would blow. The thought of losing two vacation days is bad enough. Three is like – three whole days! Ugh.

Oh. I should probably add in that my boss isn’t in today. Which sort of burns me.

And also that, on my two days off last week, I came in and worked an hour each day.

I don’t know what to do. Good employee. Good to myself. Or some sort of compromise between the two where I work a half-day on Thursday and a half-day on Friday.

I. Fucking. Hate. Feeling. Like. I’m. Being. Taken. Advantage. Of.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

It’s a hairy subject

My hair is really long right now. Middle of my back. Definitely need a trim. And some highlights.

I like my hair long. Most of the time. I hate how long it takes to dry

Recently, my mom and my sister have taken to telling me, at every chance they get, how long my hair is. And how I need to get it cut.

My work BFF, Ashley, has also taken to tell me that my hair is too long.

Which is really annoying, since I haven’t asked for their advice.

But is also kind of nice - because what if it is grossly long and scraggly and too young for me and I haven’t noticed?

But what about Anna and Colleen and all of the people who like my hair at its current length?

I have spent way too many hours thinking about this.

It’s hair. It grows.

(I wonder if I'll be able to talk myself into making an appointment.)

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Being a bridesmaid is fun

Remember that June wedding I'm standing up in?

(You know - the one for the girl who I'm not really friends with.)

The bride picked out our bridesmaid dresses.

(Insert girlie squeal here.)

I don't mind the dress. It could be so much worse. The picture doesn't show the rouching, which is a detail that I really like.

I tried it on in red. Not sure the fuschia is going to do much for me.

Here is what I do mind:
a. the bridal boutique ordered me a size 10. "You're between a 10 and a 12," the salesgirl told me. I tried not to roll my eyes when I insisted that she order the 10 since, when I had tried it on in that size at another boutique 5 days earlier, it was falling off of me. But what can you do? She measured me. They're the professionals. And I'll just pay a shit ton to have it altered to my size. (I've never worn a dress in more than a size 6.)

b. the bride was hinting that she was leaning towards these really awesome dyeable shoes! Yay! $65 on a pair of shoes that I hate! We're wearing silver. You can't tell me that we can't either:
1. all buy our own silver shoes and have them approved by the bride
2. find an off-the-rack silver shoe that the bride likes and each buy a pair.
Dyeable? Really? Ugh.

c. The $170 I shelled out for the dress. Obv.

Saturday, December 13, 2008


I've been living with Anna for a year.

It is a good situation. With her working afternoons, we hardly see each other. We can't fight. We can't get sick of each other. It is perfect.

Except when she leaves the house looking much like my coffee table did when I returned home from class this afternoon:

She is such a damn slob.

Her worst habit is leaving out food - open - for hours and days at a time.

Makes me insane.

Makes me glad that we really don't share food.

We're having people over tonight - the first people should be here in an hour - and she said she'd clean the bathroom. She's been sitting on the couch for the last hour, watching The Real Housewives of Orange County.

She got up once.

For leftover pizza.

She left the box out on the counter.

Of course.

I cleaned the bathroom.

She's a slob. I do too much for other people.

We all have our downfalls, I suppose.

Friday, December 12, 2008


Today is not a good day to be living in Detroit.

And that concludes my commentary on the American auto industry bridge loan. (It's not a bailout.)

Thursday, December 11, 2008

2007 to 2008

One year ago today, Colin and I came back from New York.

It was his birthday. I had been so excited to take him.

It was the end of our relationship.

It was the end of our relationship. ...I had no idea at the time. He was a coward. Didn't call me for a month. Gave me no closure. Ran away.


I thought that today would be harder.

And, while I was aware of the day, I did not acknowledge it. No tears. No nostalgia. Not even the desire to return the favor and send a happy birthday email, like he had sent to me.

I might really be here.

At a place where I don't care.

I never thought I'd make it to the other side.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

A new look for a fresh start

I have never had a truly amazing New Years Eve.

Yes, I realize that New Years Eve is like prom in the sense that it is never quite as amazing as you anticipate it to be.

But, not counting the one decent NYE I had with Colin and his friends two years ago, I've never really had one that even counted as mildly interesting. I stayed home and watched Angels in America on DVD one year. I went to the Red Wings game and stopped at Lucy's house last year. I have spent a few with family. Not many with friends.

So this year, to ring in 2009, I'm going to try something new.

Something new in Chicago. With my sister, my cousin Liz, my work BFF Ashley. Anyone. Everyone. A party dress. A hotel room at a smashing price.

And a hockey game. At Wrigley Field.

The Wings and the Blackhawks are playing on New Years Day.

I have four tickets.

(Very difficult to get.)

And I have high hopes for 2009.

Oh, what fun

Silly office gift exchange.

The one where you bring in a generic, wrapped gift. Everyone draws a number. Gets a gift. Steals gifts. You know - the standard.

We're supposed to spend $20-25.

My office is 75% men. Former athletes.

Dig down, kids. Recall fond office parties of past. Give me a few ideas, eh? I don't want to be The One Guy Who Brought The Present Nobody Wanted.

Monday, December 08, 2008

Oh. What's this. Relief?

Just turned in my final assignment for one of my classes.

One down, two to go.


I checked out my grade online. It seems that I am not as close on the border between an A and an A- as I had feared that I was. I'm not going to count this egg before it hatches, but maybe I'll be awaiting my grade posting with a little less apprehension than before.

I'm taking tomorrow off of work. Tomorrow and Thursday, as a matter of fact. And next Thursday. It's amazing. Even if I'm going to spend the day balancing my checkbook, going to the grocery store and finishing up some schoolwork. I don't care. I'm almost done with class. And I don't have to work.

Yes, that is the scent of freedom in the air.

Sunday, December 07, 2008

Worth hoping

Every once and a while, I'll break out the Google Translate and attempt to see how The Athlete's season is going.

What? It's not my fault that I'm an internet stalker extraordinaire.

I know that I should just give up the idea of him. I so know this, but I can't help myself. And anyway - it is better to daydream about a torrid summer love affair than to dwell on stupid fucking Colin. So gimme a break!

Anyway. So I'm breaking out the Google Translate. Click on the schedule. And notice that, after Thursday, he doesn't have another game until December 28.

Giving him plenty of time to come home for Christmas?

I have no idea.

But I like the thought.


...does anyone ever get the feeling that their iPod is psychic?

Because mine just started playing City and Colour's Comin Home.

Well I've been down to Georgia
I've seen the streets in the West
I've driven down the 90, hell I've seen America's best
I've been through the Rockies, well I've seen Saskatoon
I've driven down the highway 1 just hopin' that I'd see you soon

Cause I'm comin' home, I'm comin' home

I've never been to Alaska, but I can tell you this,
I've been to Lincoln, Nebraska and hell you know it ain't worth shit
I've been through Nova Scotia, Sydney to Halifax
I'll never take any pictures cause I know I'll just be right back

Cause I'm comin' home, I'm comin' home

I've seen a palace in London, I've seen a castle in Wales
but I'd rather wake up beside you and breathe that ol' familiar smell
I never thought you could leave me, I figured I was the one
but I understand your sadness so I guess I should just hold my tongue

But I'm comin' home, I'm comin' home

I know that we're takin' chances, you told me life was a risk
but I just have one last question...
will it be my heart or will it be his?

I'm comin' home

Friday, December 05, 2008


You know what sucks about doing your homework on a Friday night almost as much as well, doing your homework on a Friday night

There's totally nothing to do on the internet.

I can't be a Facebook creep: nobody is on.

I can't be a blogoholic: I'm all caught up on my reading.

So I guess I'm going to have to do my homework.

Fuck that.

Thursday, December 04, 2008


My good work friend, who took over my job when I left last January, got her hours reduced to part-time today.

My former boss - that manipulating bitch - said that it was because all people with her title will no longer be full-time employees.

I have her title.

As does my work BFF, Ashley.

Maybe she was told that just to soften the blow. A little white lie so that she wouldn't take it so hard.

Or maybe my boss will pull me into his office tomorrow and cut my insurance, my vacation time and my hours.

Maybe I'm next.

I guess it wouldn't be the end of the world. I'll be done with school in less than six months; I have some financial aid coming.

I'm still scared.

God help me

Not sure if ya’ll remember, but my high school frenemy and current soccer teammate – Heather – broke up with her boyfriend 3 or 4 times this year.

And, since they live together, breaking up means moving out of their house. 3 or 4 times.

I emailed her earlier this week, telling her that I couldn’t go to her stupidfuck jewelry party because I had an appointment to try on bridesmaid dresses.

She asked me who I was in a wedding for. Which, in itself, was a long story. I gave it to her in abbreviated fashion, finishing it up with “I think it must be because she heard that I’m an awesome bridesmaid!”

Heather emails me back.

If you are such a good bridesmaid... maybe I will have to keep you in mind. Dave and I have actually been discussing getting married... just waiting for the actual proposal. I already started planning... thinking about June 6th...

I am shocked.

But I respond.

Not June 6th! That's the day of the other wedding I'm in!

Also - eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! SO EXCITING!

She writes back:

GRRRRR... This is making me SO mad... another friend who I wanted to be in it is going to be 8 months pregnant. I like the date.. remember I am a math person. 6/6. I originally wanted April 4th... 4/4 but I think it is too soon and then I cant have the ceremony in the park I want to have it at. Well I guess I might have to find another date if already you cant come, and two of my friends will either be 8 or 9 months pregnant.

What the fuck do you want me to do? I committed 6 months ago. AND YOU’RE NOT EVEN ENGAGED YET.

I keep up a nice front and emailed back and forth with her a few more times.

And then we get to the crowing moment.

I got the dress for $43 on ebay. It was a model in a dress store. It is pretty :)

Holy crap.
She bought the dress on ebay.

Wednesday, December 03, 2008


My boss was born in a tiny town in western Canada.

His mom gave birth to him in a very small hospital in town. A boy was born the day after my boss. They went to school together through high school.

His mom has passed away. And when he was last home, he ran into that high school classmate and his mother. The classmate's mother told him about when the boys were born. She shared a room with my boss's mom.

My boss has fair skin, blue eyes, blonde hair. His mother had very dark hair.
The classmate was born with brown hair and eyes to his blonde, blue-eyed mother.

When the nurses would come into the room, they would hand the baby boys to the wrong mothers.

And when the nurses left, the mothers would swap children.

They knew who their babies were.

"And it's a good thing," my boss - who stands at 6'2" or so - said, "because I would have been far larger than anyone in the family."

I sort of love that story.
I love that the mothers knew who their babies were.
I love that he didn't find out until after his mom had passed.
I love the small town and the absentminded nurses.

I don't love my boss.
But I love that story.

Tuesday, December 02, 2008

It isn't envy

The Athlete is having a really good season over in Europe. It makes me happy.

My cousin Danielle's good friend, who I met and saw perform when I was in LA, is going to be on American Idol. He's really talented. I'm thrilled for him.

I'm going to Meg's hockey game tonight. She's so good at hockey; I like to watch her.

I'm not overly skilled at much of anything. But I'm damn fine at living vicariously through others.

Everyone has a skill.

Monday, December 01, 2008


My phone rang at 1:30 am Wednesday night/Thursday morning.

It was Darren.

He was walking to my house. Drunk.
I wasn’t there.

I left Mom and Dad’s house drove to pick him up. I’d done it once before.

[Don’t chastise me for it. Maybe he is looking for a mother. Maybe I am falling for it. I don’t care. When one of my friends can’t drive – when they’re calling me for help – I’m going to get out of bed and pick them up. How could I ever forgive myself if he killed himself or someone else?]

I was careful to keep him on the phone. He was wandering around my neighborhood. He had no coat on. No common sense. I asked him where he’d been and whom he’d been out with – he couldn’t really tell me. Or maybe he chose not to. It doesn’t matter.

He recently changed his phone number. I was giving him a hard time about it – trying to figure out what made him do it. I had been teasing him about it all week. And he wouldn’t even give me a straight answer when he was drunk. Punk.

And then he says “I have something to tell you but it is something I need to tell you in person.”

So of course I jump to ALL SORTS of conclusions.
And, of course, he never tells me and I never ask.

I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, anyway, if he was professing feelings for me. (Was I jumping to conclusions? What else could it have been?) I still don't think it would work.

But then I get into work today. And I’m talking to my work BFF Ashley – and she says “Darren asked me if I would help him date That Girl Who He Was Flirting With On Facebook.”

Blog Template by Delicious Design Studio