Starved

Now, sad to say, things with Mr. Someone have ended. And in the end, he really wasn't a Mr. Someone. He turned out to be a run of the mill Mr. Anyone. (I hate when I get tricked)

I realize it has been awhile since my last post and many adventures have happened involving Love, Lust & Liquor. (Well more like "Lack of Love") But none-the-less, I will draw the conclusion to Mr. Someone.

It was a lovely spring evening. Lie. It was a rainy Friday night. Mr. Someone wasn't feeling up to coming out, so he was relaxing in his hotel room. Before heading over there, I had to hit a bar, loosen up those inhibitions.
Oh those inhibitions. A waste.

So I arrive at his hotel room, I don't think I have ever felt like Vivian Ward, more than this night minus the whole cash transaction bit and the whole Cinder-fucking-ella ending. We cuddle in bed while watching some macho movie I have never and probably will never fully see again. Cuddling lasts all of 15 minutes, my attention span of this movie and so we proceed. After a quick romp, we're lying in bed, back to cuddling, he tells me I am "starved for affection" EXCUSE ME?! You are the one jet setting around and have no real ties to any city or anyone, and you are the one calling me up every two weeks you're in town and I'm the one starved?! Ok buddy!! So if I had been channeling my inner suffragette I would have left the hotel right then, why I didn't is still baffling me.

So enters Mr. Someone now dubbed "Mr. Affection Starved" into the DoucheBag Hall of Fame.

And the quest for Mr. Someone continues.

Please Lord Jesus, end my life now. Amen

I like to think that only 10 years ago, texting didn't really exist. And then I think about how impossible dating must have been back then. And if not dating, hooking up. Our generation really has defined drunk booty calls/texts.

And then I think 10 years ago, drunk texting didn't exist and how many incidents were avoided then. This past Saturday, I wished drunk texting didn't exist. And for that matter caller ID. And I love texting, so that was a pretty big wish.

My girlfriend and I after a long week decided we had to go out. And by going out we hoped we would accidentally bump into these two fine specimens of men- Mr. S and Mr. B. We got more than we bargained for.

At one o'clock I decided we could move onto this trashy Jersey bar where the only time I want to go there is if I am already wasted and just want to dance, which pretty much was how I was feeling. After a beer and a shot, we decided to send Mr. S a friendly text. What happens two seconds after we send the text?! There he walks by with some Jersey ho in tow. I high fived my face. My girlfriend in an attempt to save herself from looking retarded sends a follow up text saying that I sent it and want his friend, Mr. B. At this point, she has conveniently blacked out. I have never made a quicker exit from a bar. So as if that wasn't an all time low point for me, what do I do to redeem myself? I drunk dial a guy I used to date.

Here I am sobbing hysterically in the streets walking in my new shoes I just bought, and crying to him about how my life is over. None of which he understood. And please, do NOT think for a moment that I was drunk booty calling him. No, no, no. I had already drunk booty texted someone else, which I completely forgot about til the next morning when he texted me back. I'm a real winner I tell you.

Don't worry, the story doesn't end there. My girlfriend's purse dialed Mr. S. Pretty sure our lives are over. And now we just pray we will never run into them again.

So while I love texting, I think from now on before I go out I will have a friend place a password on my phone so I can not drunk text or dial anyone. Why can't the bar have a keeper of the phones. I would pay to check my phone at the door!

Drunk Texting

Because some of the best drunk tests are between you and your BFF.

Information has been changed to protect identities but the drunk spelling is included! ;)

Dion (2:04am): Um dying everyone around me is married. Please help me
Me (2:15am): Umm I just got rejhected by Mr. A
Me (2:18am) I can't sta nd up!!!
Dion (2:19am) What? I doubt it
Dion (2:48am) Everyone I am w is talking about their husbands I am dying
Me (2:49am) Its ok. I was reje ctyed by Mr. A
Dion (2:50am) Who?
Dion (2:51am) I am drunk this is a mess
Me (2:58am) And I will call tyy. I hate boys

Lesson Learned

Don't shit where you eat. Don't dip your pen in the company ink.

Everyone has heard these terms, yet everyone makes their own mistakes. Some learn. Others don't.

I have fallen and slipped into these taboos. And you think learning would help. It doesn't. I always think it will be different. Basically, it's always the same outcome- it ends. And to no one's fault but my own. It creates awkward situations and a basic disdane. It's just a bad after taste I can't get out of my mouth.

Now, it doesn't simply refer to co-workers. And when I think of that one- Oh God. It was a flip flop back and forth. He's not ready for a girlfriend. So we call it quits. Finito. Then couple months later, he's suffering from blue balls so let's hook up. Then after a month, I find out he has decided he is ready for a relationship...with another co-worker. Of course, general hatred ensues. This basically stems from him not being able to man up and me having to hear about it from someone else. Really?! That much of a dickhead. It was a lovely ending though, she ends up being forced to quit in order to continue dating him because HR found out. Later on he's fired for being stoned and can't find a job for a good 4 months. Payback's a bitch huh?

Alas, it doesn't always just involve co-workers, it could involve someone that is just slightly related to your work field. Even if not directly related, once they happen to wander into your work, that same embarassment comes about even if nothing happened in the work place. This has happened a few times. I work at a popular sports bar and every now and again some one comes in that I might have had some sort of relation with and all I can do is pray to God they do not see me. And in case they do, just play it off like nothing happened. However on the reverse side of things, it sucks when you're the one ignored because someone has decided to open their mouths and only ends up digging you in the biggest hole of your life (at the time) and all you can think is that someone, God willing, just might please just end your life then. This is the predicament I am currently faced with.

It all started because a friend and I decided to take two incredible handsome gentlemen up on their offer to grab drinks later on in the evening. What happens next, but a foggy memory filled with shots of tequila, vodka, and SoCo. And now we are faced to see them and the basic acknowledgment we get is being looked straight through all because someone has decided to open their mouths in an "attempt" to try and help us out. Giant backfail. Now they think we are crazy. Not cute. Not the outcome we wanted. And it's all due to someone else.

So the only lesson I've learned is not to tell anyone about your adventures with the opposite sex since they can't keep their mouths shut in a quest for attention.

The Washington Post

So in light of Walk of Shames, I share my most memorable and what could probably be the most infamous I will ever have.

It all began for a colleagues birthday party, all of us came out glammed out. Me in a strapless mini dress. It was January. Not quite practical, but all I cared about was looking cute not what the temperature outside was. Of course this happened to be held at a popular bar with us having an open bar tab. Right away you know that equals bad news bears. Vodka. Vodka. Vodka!! And without the fist pumping... Shots! Shots! Shots!

It was a grand time had by all and then I spotted him. Of course, I thought he was gorgeous and my friend being so kind and dear went over to him and Lord only knows what she said, but let's skip to making out at the bar. (Sidenote: I hate when people make out at the bar. I find it trashy. Yet every now and again, we all fall victim to it) So here I have friends hanging out with me at the bar and I decide to leave with Mr. Washington Post (so-called because of his shirt)

I received a lovely voicemail as I galavanted off with Mr. WP from my abandoned friend, which I still have on my phone and listen to every now and again for shits and giggles. "I hate you so much. I hate you. I'm jealous but I hate you"

The jist of the night was pretty much over when I called him by the wrong name. Please, if you are going home with someone have a friend verify the name. So let's fast forward to the morning when I had to be at work at 10am. Of course I wasn't cute. Bed head and no make up with me to refresh. He was nice enough to drive me in. And while I did get his number I failed to get in touch with him due to ultimate humilation of forgetting his name. How do you apologize for that? Hmm, on second thought I think I did text him apologizing for that minor factor.

So while work sucked that day, a friend of mine had had a bad day and wanted to meet up for drinks. And since I wasn't going to run home and change since she was having drinks in the same building that I worked, I changed back into last night's dress. Nothing is sadder looking than last nights dress 18 hours later.

So lessons learned. Remember the name of the boy you make out with at the bar. And go home and change before you put any more liquor in your system.

FMe Pumps

So I realize FMe Pumps serve a very practical purpose. They are the number one fashion accessory when getting dresssed for the evening. They make you sexy. And while I pride myself on FMe Pumps, they are the first thing to come off in the bedroom. So their mission is accomplished. Yet even after the night is over and the shoes are off the legend of the FMe pumps live on.

Next day, not so pretty. Sore feet. Blisters. Broken toe nails. I'm sorry how is this sexy?

So it really is a double entendre. 1) Please FMe tonight. 2)FMe for having to wear those shoes last night.

The Walk of Shame

I'm just lounging around my apartment waiting to get the call from that Mr. Someone to come out for the night. I'm in no way ready. I just put laundry in the wash and I have not done my make up or my hair. No point in getting too early and just sitting around waiting. So what way to be proactive than to start a blog chronicling my Adventures in Love Lust & Liquor.

Let's take a little tangent into early today when I was texting my girlfriend as to what I should wear tonight. And I believe this is where most girls go wrong. They get all glammed up for the night ahead of them they don't stop to think about what tomorrow might bring. Yes, you look fabulous now, but what about tomorrow morning when you're updo is falling out, your mascara is rubbed off and your skin is blotchy? Thus begins your walk of shame in 5 inch heels and a mini skirt that 9 am has never seen. You better hope there is a cab waiting right outside his door for you to hop in. And please tell me you at least considered bringing your sunglasses.

Don't try and place yourself on a pedistool and say that never happened. It's happened to everyone. The problem is you must take control of the situation before it takes control of you.

Let's take this evening for example. I am meeting up with Mr. Someone. He will most likely be out or will have been out with colleagues. As I was shopping today I thought of buying black capris. Nice. Simple. It would be easy to wear them back out tomorrow without looking too conspicuous of my walk of shame. (Might I add this is not a "walk of shame" I will now call it a "walk of pride" because Mr. Someone is not Mr. Anyone) But capris were too bland. It's 70 degrees out. So after much deliberation I just ended up buying black leather pumps, screams SEX!

So then I was faced with my closet as to find something to wear and it's been narrowed down to 2 options. Jeans and a tank top with newly purchased FMe Pumps or Short skirt with simple v-neck and FMe Pumps.
Now you might be reading this thinking I will go for the jeans and tank from what I have said earlier about mini skirts in early morning hours, but think of it this way. If I meet up with him at a bar before going back to his place, I want to give him a sneak peek of the coming attractions. What coming attractions do you see in jeans? Like I said, it's 70 degrees out. I'm going with the mini skirt. My Audrey Hepburn sunglasses are already in my purse with my compact and a toothbrush. :)

Please girls, it's only a walk of shame if you look shameful.