New Year's Kiss

Sorry, you guys, for no recent posts.  Being a senior in college, as a design student, I'm kept pretty busy and constantly stressing my brain out.  Seriously.  Now, every time I start to think, my brain goes, 'Oh no, not this shit again!' and gives out an instant headache.

Anyways!  So last year was pretty freaking crazy when it came to guys.  I had so many guys whom I've never met before just pop up and lay one on me.  Who does that?  I wasn't sure if I should be flattered or scared.  Do I have a neon sign that says, "Kiss me! Even though I'm only like one ninetieth Irish."  The irony of all this is I probably would have loved all the attention... if I were an affectionate person.  I'm not.

I have a puppy with a long body and short legs.  His name is Spock.  I love Spock because he can't jump on my bed and annoy me with kisses.  This is how far my love for affection goes.  My boyfriend has yet to take me out on a date that I haven't planned.  He has given me flowers exactly one time and chocolates never.  He rarely holds my hand and always runs off with his friends when I try to hang out with them.  He is STILL more affectionate than me.

The fact that random guys kept choosing to kiss possibly the only girl around who gets bored after five seconds of making out is just hilarious to me.

End of 2014, I made it to Scotland, was celebrating Hogmanay, my man was back at the states so no New Year's kiss for me!  One of my resolutions was that I was going to be more vigilant and make sure no crazies came up to me and kiss me this year!

Edinburgh was packed with people.  My girls (on the trip whom I had just met) and I had to chain our way to the bars through the crowds after the countdown into 2015.  I was the tail of that little train.  We broke off when the crowd got a little more dense, but ran into more people a moment later.  It was there where I lost them... and found the next crazy.

I was wrapped up in a big, fuzzy scarf, a voluminous coat, and fuzzy earmuffs.  I was easily the least accessible and the least sexually appealing woman around.  I intentionally didn't get all dolled up that night.

But there he was, drunk guy #572, arms wide out, eyes set on me.  Before I knew what was happening, he had his hands on my jaw bone and his lips on my cheek.  He backed a few inches away with a dumbass grin on his face and started heading for my lips.


(Hmm.. doesn't give a good affect, does it?  I thought it would be a nice touch, being Scotland's national animal and all... oh well.)

I ran away and found the girls, and their only reaction was:  So..?  Was he cute?

Well, I guess this is one more resolution that won't get fulfilled.

Here, puppy, puppy!

I'm going to get a dog and name it Jess.

That way, when people holler my name, it'll get really intense, instantly.  Why?  Because they'll have four eyeballs staring at them!

Over Literal vs Phrases

“I can’t hang out with him anymore!” she said.

“Why not?” I asked. I thought things were going great with them. Maybe they were going to be starting a new relationship or something. I mean, that’s what people do, right? They are either getting in, maintaining, getting over, or avoiding relationships. 

“Because he makes my insides do funny things!”

“You mean you have butterflies in your stomach?”

“Ew!” she yelled, appalled. “Gross! I do NOT eat butterflies!”

“No, no… I mean, he… ya know… gets your panties wet.”

She looked at me quizzically. “What would he be doing wearing my underwear?”

“I’ll try again… he makes your head spin!”

“That is just morbid!!”

I gave up.

The Truth About Dallas

My girl and I met a couple guys in Dallas on a somewhat quiet Saturday night. She and I have been living in San Marcos. Austin, about 20 minutes from us, is well-known for 6th street. Actually, it’s more like 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th street and all the ones that intersect them. They close down the roads in that area every night for the bar-hoppers. Loud music, a little juice in the liquor, and guys who use pick-up lines like “I live in San Antonio, let’s get a hotel.” That’s the kind of scene we’re used to.

Have you ever seen those TV shows with those unrealistic bars where all the locals just come and join, and everybody’s having a good, clean time, everyone knows everyone, and the bars are clean and look like they were only put together specifically for a photo shoot? Yes, I felt the need to use the term 'clean' twice.

I’m not even exaggerating, these are the bars of Dallas. At least in the area we were at. I wasn’t even sure what to do there. I mean, how do you pick up somebody in a place that has cozy chairs and books on the shelves? And art, there were art on the walls. Pretty, yet contemporary art. 

BARS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE FOR DRUNK PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!  These weren’t bars, they were hang-out joints for people with a lot of class. No karaoke, no billiards.

I felt like I should have been wearing a nice dress with heels on, my toes all did and my hair done right. Instead, I was wearing high-waisted booty shorts and brown boots.

And to top it off, my girl and I, as open and loud as we are (although it takes some liquor for her volume to go up), we were actually hanging out with decent guys. The kind that buys a girl drinks. They were considerate, polite, and even protective. Granted, we could have handled ourselves, but the chivalry shown to us was quite impressive, to say the least. 

Yep, those are the kind of guys that will gently remove your heart from your chest, put it safely in their own, personal hiding place, and then leave you chasing happily after it.

Independence Day Weekend

Half the morning on the road, my girl, we’ll call her Sally (although she really doesn’t look at all like a Sally), and I were at Willie’s Picnic in Fort Worth. Sexy and douche bag cowboys GALORE!  She wore a “Proud to Be Drug-Free” shirt as we walked around, eating stoner brownies. How those brownies came to be, that’s a completely different story, but let’s just say we still have some cleaning up to do in her kitchen… and her in neighbor’s vents…

A little bit later, after walking past a guy wearing a “‘Taste my Pickle” shirt who was selling pickles… yes, legitimate food kind of pickles, you perv… we ended up in Dallas.

Two guys, two girls, you know what happened? No, seriously, stop being so perverted, it was only a foursome. 

You know, on a side note, I would like to point out. What is the purpose of a foursome? Anyways, I feel like someone always gets kicked in foursomes. At least when I’m involved.. I just have no idea what I’m supposed to do with my limbs! 

After three-quarters of a the group had bruises, we decided to go out for drinks. In cities, you actually end up walking a lot more than you might think. I don’t think I’ve walked nearly as much in the country as I have in New York, San Francisco, or London. 

Half way to the first strip of bars, a guy started stalking us, harassing us. He kept talking about peeing green in a jar, or something weird like that, getting closer and closer to us. Eventually, the group got annoyed, and offered to have an orgie with this guy. They figured my amazing, elegant aerobatic skills would get rid of him. This ended up working better than the we expected, because he took one good look at me and ran away. 

After the first few bars, the night blacked out. I’m not sure how the night continued, but I do know how I woke up… naked, half-way out of my truck, Sally was hugging the steering wheel with her legs, her hair in an awkward weave (she did not originally have a weave). Guy no.1 was on my lap, which doesn’t sound too bad, but he is twice my height and almost twice my weight, and I’m still not sure how he fit there. Guy no.2  was in the back of the truck… half naked and cuddling up to some random guy. Why I was the only completely-nude person of the group, I have no idea.

Fortunately, we had evidently ended up under a bridge where nobody could see us... and where there were probably a few dead bodies hidden.


Thought I was going to have to do a little ninja work this morning! I was coming from the kitchen to my bedroom, and saw a figure behind my door, just waiting for me to walk through. I almost grabbed the nunchucks. But I was holding on to a delicious bowl of cereal. Besides, I don't have nunchucks.

As it turns out, it was my derby hat, backpack, and super long vest chilling on the hanger on the back of the door. But boy, was I poised for some serious butt-whooping!

A Gardener's Dilema.

I love my beautiful Rosemary,
I love its sweet perfume.
It didn't like the kitchen
So I stuck it in my room.

Now it's growing great,
And sprouting new green leaves.
However, every morning,
I wake up with a sneeze!