"What you know you have or what you think you aren't...

It's never perfect" ~Jenny Lewis, Melt Your Heart


So much is going on right now, my head is spinning.


There's:

The Boy

The friends

Upcoming vacation

Lack of younger sister

Hanging out with brother

My cat has fleas

Beneficial Nematodes and Diatomaceous Earth

You know how there's so much stuff going on that you pine for a day when there's absolutely nothing going on so that you can just run off to the nearest body of water and goof around in the sun all day? Yeah? That's so totally what it's like to be me right now.

I'm not complaining. It's just how it is.


1. The Boy. I think from now on, this is how I will refer to him. He's very boyish in his charm, yet responsible for his emotions and thoughtful about mine. I mean, when do you find that in a guy? God, like never. But I've managed to snag the impossible. It's good.

He's good to my cat; my fat-ass cat. His dogs are good to my Fatboy. In fact, he will be watching my Fatboy whilst I am frolicking away and drinking fine Canadian lager on a family vacation, the first in many, many years.

And he likes Ford. It is music to my Michigander roots; it is! Though, he just sold his T- bucket and that brings mixed emotions for The Boy, it is good for his many home improvements and for opening another chapter in his life. But first, I get a date in the Model T, a piece of assembly line history!


2. The friends. SO much is going on with attempting to introduce my friends to The Boy. My closest friends have not even been able to meet him yet and this totally is not intentional.

I got *cough*drunk*cough* and lost track of time one night. My friend and her fiancé have turned into the couple that eat dinner at 6pm and are in bed by 10pm. Now I find out they are moving to Salt Lake City in a little over a month.

I managed to catch a stomach bug one night before meeting my other friend and her hubby out for a late night concert. I was just informed that there was a rockabilly-punk group and a burlesque show, which totally makes my tummy hurt realizing that I missed that.

Either way, I suck lately and I apologize profusely. I think the time off will serve me well in that I've been run ragged lately and am totally starting to resemble my childhood doll: Raggedy Ann.


3. For vacay I will be heading to the motherlands of Michigan and Canada. Lots of sun and water and boats and family. Whew! That was a mouthful! But really, I have so many loose ends to tie up at work before then and now.

I'm also fucking excited as all get out because I'm going to the Tiger's game on 8/4/06!!!! I haven't been to one in years and this season is stellar. Not only that, but I will be going with my dad's side of the family, which are a ton of fun. My cousin is like a big brother and his wife and kiddos are the bee's knees.

But first, that work thing must get out of the way. I get a whole lot of my writing done at work, hence the lack of posting. Working through lunch… I don't recommend it.

I'm really fucking excited, people. The Tigers! This is what gets me through the day this week. Daydreams of Verlander and Pudge. But not because they are cute… because they have put baseball back into the hearts of Tiger fans, everywhere.



4. I'm on vacation from my youngest sibling. I love her but she's messy and lazy. Now that I'm not picking up after her and her menagerie, I've got all the time in the world for dates, swimming, bike rides in the hot Texas sun, and all that stuff… when I'm not sick. The immune system and I are going to have a long talk…




5. There's been a whole lot more of hanging out with the brother and his awesome girlfriend since I'm no longer the 3 rd wheel. Well, in all honesty, they already have a 3 rd wheel in the form of their collective best friend who is the male version of me: perpetually single, dating like crazy, not getting anywhere.

Oh shit, that's not me anymore. It's not sunk in yet. I'm not sure if that's good or bad, but whatever, it's new. No worrying about it now!

Anyways, it's nice to see my brother more.



6. The brother and his girlfriend will NOT be caring for my Fatboy on account that he has contracted fleas. He's an indoor cat- where he got them? I know not.


7. For fleas: 1 part beneficial nematodes, 5 parts diatomaceous earth.


Did you know that the same stuff that crunches between your teeth when you brush your teeth and the very same stuff that you use in pool filters also moonlights as a bug killer?

It's kind of like the bubonic plague, I'd imagine. I mean, if I were a flea and all of my buddies were complaining of abdomen cuts through their exoskeleton and extreme thirst, then were keeling over left and right, that's what I'd think.

The beneficial nematodes is a mouthfull that means microscopic worms that eat fleas and ticks. I think that earns the title beneficial!


8. I'm adding an 8 because I forgot about this but thought it was worth mentioning for those of you that follow my little delinquent blog: I saw the girl Spoonman was riding bikes with riding bikes with another boy on a funky cruiser-type of bike. It made me blink a few times, but I was verified when one of Spoonie's previous personal ads showed back up on Craigslist.

Maybe he's getting a taste of his own medicine… or maybe he's broken another heart. Whatever the case, he's single and still messed up and I'm happy and decidedly not so messed up; or at least The Boy likes me with all of my quirks and fuck-ups and that's really what it's all about, right?


We should all be loved for who we are.

“Well, I’m braggin…

I’m always in love” ~ Wilco, Always in Love



A recent email from one of my girl friends started like this:

“It must be love… No email...no blog entries...sheesh....”

If I can’t admit embarrassment here in my own polka dotted blog element, then were else can I admit it?

I’m embarrassed that I let my blog simmer on the backburner. The sides of the pan were starting to smoke! Whatever was cooking now appears to have spent an afternoon in a dehydrator.

No, it’s not love, though my friend was kidding. You see, she knows me well enough to know a few things about me:

1. I’m really easy-going, bordering on lazy.
2. I’m not one to lose my head in a relationship. No, I’m not in love.
3. I like my summers lazy and full of stuff to do.

Also, I’ve had house guests- no, not the boy! The parental units paraded into a very full weekend of mine.

I am working on another entry and a long-awaited Personal Ads 101 Chapter 3. It’s just that my writing time has been sucked into this vortex that is the summer.

What else should a girl be doing with her summer but working to support her margarita, baseball, swimming, bbq, and outdoor concert habits?

Nothing else, that’s what!

So that's where you've been spending your time!

The details.

Call me crazy, but I continued to peruse the online personal ads. I think to myself, " Glutton for punishment or just proactive?" Most of the time, nothing even remotely interests me, though a few are bad enough to cause audible giggles and snorts. Fodder for my weekly (oops, missed last week- sorry guys) personal ad advice column. Or whatever it is. But I digress.


So I'm bored at home and I come across this ad that's short and to the point, but pretty much describes me. It was as if it were written specifically for me and I couldn't help myself. "What could go wrong?" I ask.

is between the ages of 25 and 32 - Check.

can eat vegetarian on occasion and not gag - Check. I could live on green beans or spinach.

jog/run, kayak, bike, etc.- Check, check, check- biking!!!

wears sundresses or the like on occasion, but not too often - Check. Sundresses and hot Texas summers, hello!

you still read books and they don't have Fabio on the cover - Fabio really should stick to his fake butter gig.

He responds in kind. He's 32, can write, is a computer nerd, is gainfully employed, and tells me he has dark brown hair and hazel eyes.

I mean, what girl could resist at this point. Certainly not me!

Then, an attachment email. I'm nervous but oh.so.curious.

The first is a picture of two dogs. They are large, golden, fluffy, and appear content. A dog owner- that's very good. And as my friend Salome says, "His dogs make me like him already." The larger dog has soulful eyes and a boxy face. The other dog has pure adoration written all over him. He's got a sweet, loving expression that makes him almost puppy-like. I'm impressed.

Then a picture of him in a baseball cap. Now, I love a man in a baseball cap. He's got a big grin, and nice arms. It's a decent picture, but I still wasn't entirely sold but I know that some people- like myself, just present better in person. So I agree to meet.

The boy can plan a date.

I have 3 choices of dates:

1. Sunday afternoon bike ride along Town Lake hike and bike trail, stopping to eat on the patio at a Barton Springs establishment, and ending at Jim-Jim's shaved ice place downtown

2. If it rains Sunday afternoon, sitting under a "palapa" at Hula Hut, watching the rain with awesome margaritas in hand.

3. Monday night, eating at a restaurant of my choosing, then a concert at Saxon Pub.

I chose 3, mostly because I'd rather not get all sweaty in front of a boy I just met and it is still 90 degrees out, despite our mild summer heat. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those girls that can't get dirty and sweaty with boys around, just not on a first date. I also choose 3 because the concert that night is Bob Schneider, one of my favorite local artists. If you haven't heard of him- check him out. He's fucking awesome and he's nice to look at too.

This is a few days after seeing Spoonman on a bike date with that girl, so I'm feeling pretty shitty. Add to that, a rough day at work and Monday night isn't sounding all that plausible to me but I feel bad for cancelling last minute and I'm not the type that would ever stand someone up, so I throw on a cute deep sea-green top, some jeans, slide my sandals on my feet, fluff the hair, and slick on some lip gloss. Perfect- not trying too hard, but still dolled up.

We meet at an interior Mexican Food joint and as I walk up, he stands and comes towards me, pulls my chair out, then sits after I've sat. Impressive. The boy's got manners. He's also far more good looking than his picture led on. I would use the word "hot" to describe him. Dark hair, tanned skin from so many bike rides and runs, nice arms and legs, hazel eyes, and an inviting smile. He's wearing cargo shorts, flip flops, and a red t-shirt that hugs him in all the right places.

When his sleeve shifts a bit, I can see he's got two tattoos, one on each bicep- armbands. I'm not too crazy about tattoos but his were tasteful and had a nice design. I overlook the ink.

He's easy to talk to and I warm up fast. His demeanor is cool and confident with a boyish charm. He's a really great conversationalist and well-rounded, and I find myself really enjoying the date.

We head over to the pub for the concert where he bought a beer that we ended up sharing. Yum. Newcastle. He's got good taste in beer.

The place is packed and it's standing room left, so we sidle up to a railing on a ramp and squish in with all the others. It's tight. He apologizes when he brushes up against me due to people walking by. Then an older couple that remind me of my parents push their way to the front of the ramp, just in front of this young guy in front of me.

They were about 50-60, the guy had grey hair and is mustache-ed in one of those 70's styles that are reminiscent of Burt Reynolds or the Sabotage video from the Beastie Boys. Yes, my father has a "sabostache" STILL. They have apparently been drinking and the man starts grinding his pelvis into the woman whilst waving his hips back and forth not unlike one of those hula girls that dance on people's dashboards. I snort a bit and show amusement. My dad and this man went to the same school of dance. Well, aside from the pelvic thrusts. Thankfully, I've never seen that going on. Ack!

So these dance movements get more and more exaggerated as time goes on. and it starts to cause the guy in front of me to back up into me and apologize. I am understanding, after all, I'm getting the show too and would not want old man butt rubbing against me either. The couple was asked several times by surrounding "ramp-mates" to take it down a few notches. Nothing changes.

My date asks the guy in front of me, "You know what you should do?"

Guy in front of me is curious, "What?"

My date whispers in his ear and they both start laughing.

GIFOM: "Oh no, I couldn't do that." He's blushing a tad. Okay, a lot. The boy was practically sunburned.

My date shrugs, "I've got no shame, I'll do it."

He walks towards the couple, grabs the guy by his waste and starts swinging his hips- hula style, in sync with the couple. He screams, "Yeah, rock on!" There are no pelvic thrusts.

I am crying with laughter. The guy in front of me shook with fits of laughter, as did a few other of our "ramp-mates." My date returns in back of me and watches.

The hip sways have lessened and there are fewer pelvic thrusts, but they are still commanding way too much space for two people and squishing us. My date yells, "Ooooh he's got a MOUSTACHE! How cute!" GIFOM and I erupt in giggles.

The man finally stops swaying and they stand still for the rest of the concert, allowing much more room for those of us against the railing of the ramp. It worked. "I knew that would work," He said confidently.

I realized that I wasn't even remotely embarrassed by this. It was hilarious and pretty darn ingenious. I wish I had the guts to be so shameless and bold. I thank him and smile. The smile in return seemed relieved that I wasn't running from the pub. He whispers in my ear, "I think I'd like to see you again." I turn and smile, "Me too."

After the concert, on the way back to the truck, he stops me just below the sign with the knight armor and says, "Just so it won't be awkward later," and kisses me. It was short but really nice. He's a good kisser. "Wow," I say.

Wow, indeed.