Superfluous Baloney

I did the normal (well, normal now I guess considering it has been going on for two straight weeks except possibly two nights I guess…but I digress) wake up at 3:30am thing this morning over at…at…hmmm what should I call him? I used to call my old boyfriend That Boy but I need a new name for this one…we don’t want to taint this relationship with remnants of the last one. Well this is quite the dilemma. I feel as if I can’t go on with my story until I come up with a name which seems an impossible task at this point in time considering I am only two sips into my first cup of coffee and I have been awake since 3:30 in the morning. Well fuck. Now what am I to do? I am dying to spew all of my whininess out in this post yet here I sit at a roadblock because I haven’t one ounce of creativity in my soul at this particular moment.

Alright. Fine. We shall call him Bud. (Because 1) it’s easy and 2) He works for a Beer company…gee can you guess which one? And 3) I said I am not feeling creative dammit.)

Let’s move on shall we?

Where was I? Oh yes, I said I did the normal wake up at 3:30am thing over at Bud’s house which was particularly painful this morning as we did not go to sleep until almost 11 and I am currently suffering from the dreaded PMS (For you fellas, one of the symptoms of PMS is serious ass drag for a good week or so where you are just tired as hell…now you know one of the reasons why we are such heinous bitches during that week. Don’t say I never taught ya nuttin’.). Knowing that how tired I was, when I arrived home I did not allow myself to go back to sleep as I normally do. Yes, I intelligently decided to stay awake. So, I am officially 45 minutes into my work day, yet I have already been awake for FIVE fucking hours. Sometimes my brilliance astounds even me. Let me make one thing clear, there is not enough coffee, Redbull, Rockstar Zeros, etc, in the world to keep my ass awake today. Not helping the situation any is the fact that I am actually having a slow week at work as well. One of the key factors in my life that keeps me in check and going mock 30 is how hectic and fast paced my job tends to be. Except for this week. The slow pace of this week leaves me with extra time on my hands which I have been spending contemplating how freaking tired I am.

I done with this week and beyond ready to party my PMS away this weekend in true Rock star fashion. One more day…one more day…one more day.

Song I am currently in love with:

Modest Mouse- The World At Large

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I don’t know what the hell my problem is today (actually I do know what it is, but we’ll just move on…), but I lack any ability to focus or get anything done. I feel like I have the lazy version of ADD. I have seven task reminders popped currently on my computer, meaning I have seven things at least that need to be addressed, yet I sit here basically ignoring all of them whilst staring at my computer and wishing it would all just disappear. In addition I have mounds of paperwork scattered from one end to the other, all needing attention and something to be done with. I also have additional stacks hiding in the overhead cupboard of my cubicle that also need to be addressed. I have transcript requests to send off to my prior educational institutions and the application for the graduate program I have chosen currently staring at me longingly as well. YET. Here I sit. Typing away as if this little whining session were of the utmost priority and should take precedence over all of it. Did I also mention I would like to go to McDonald’s and order at least 4 Value Meals (Super Sized please) and a Chocolate shake too? Welcome to another monthly bout of PMS friends…queue the angry hostile-like music:

GodSmack - The Enemy

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Being as this is me and I am 100% a Sagittarius through and through I am somewhat cranky today through no fault of anyone's but my own. When I first enter into anything I get completely caught up in the excitement of it and jump in with both feet without looking, let alone thinking. So we have spent the entire weekend together. Actually even Thursday night now that I think about it... However I am a pretty independent person and although I love being with someone I truly care about I enjoy my "me" time as well. I need time to do the things I love to do...solo. I get torn though initially between wanting to be with someone and spend every moment together and wanting to do my own thing. Things that would be considered rude if someone else were around. Like play my video games, browse the internet, run errands, etc. Things that require 100% of my attention meaning everyone else around me is completely ignored while I indulge. I did this today and although I knew I was doing it and that it was rude...I did it anyway. And I am sure he was probably more than a little annoyed (as I would have been should I had been in his place). Isn't it weird how we know on a subconscious level that something we are doing is wrong, yet we do it anyway? I can honestly say I am rotten about that. Sometimes my need to be independent and stubborn just gets the best of me. It's like I become indignant toward decency and etiquette and just decide to be a royal pain in the ass. Yeah, I'm a punk like that. But I guess now that I have acknowledged it on a conscious level I better get my ass up and walk away from the computer and kiss and make up. Although that will be rather hard to do considering he just left...oops. At least that buys me a few additional minutes of jacking around solo... Damn, I'm evil.

Ouch. It's 5:30am and yes, by god, I'm blogging. I have been up since 3:30am. (Disclaimer: Thus, it is quite possible none of this will even make sense.) What's that you ask? Nope no insomnia, no horrible bouts of flu keeping me awake, no nauseating migraines to speak of...none of that. It hasn't been that long since I was last in a relationship, but it has been quite awhile since I was involved with someone that required sacrifices on my part. That's right, I have skated by previously. Well, for the past few years anyway. But all that has changed thanks to my newest interest. He begins work at 4am, meaning he is up by a little before 3am. Do you know how bad it hurts to get up at that time? I have only been forced to do so previously on a few of my work trips. But every freaking day of the week? You have got to be kidding me. I don't know if I have mentioned it before or not, but I am a SLEEPER. I can get 8-10 hours of sleep a night and still take a nap for fuck sake! (No, seriously I can. I know...I have issues.) Deprive me of my 8 hour a night ritual and Lord help us all. I turn into a bigger whiner than a four year old in Toys R Us who was just told No for the millionth time. In fact after only two sleep deprived nights thus far this week my boss looked at me and said, "You're acting like a girl. Cut it out." Sleep deprivation turns me into a total wuss. All of a sudden getting up from my desk during the day to go to the bathroom down the hall takes too much effort. I'm a sad, pathetic little thing I tell ya. Thankfully, I am the type that only makes sacrifices for those that appear truly worthy. And to be fair, he is getting screwed in the sleep department as well since we have blown right by his normal 8:30 bedtime each night. And his job happens to be of a much more physical nature then mine, thus I can imagine the lack of sleep is probably kicking his ass during the day more so than mine. At least I can sit at my desk and pretend to work while downing everything from coffee strong enough to stand a spoon up to RedBull to Rockstar Zero. (Which manages to make me go from whiney to all around cranky thanks to the caffeine jitters...I just can't win.) What can you do? These are the small sacrifices I suppose we must make in order to spend time with someone you care about. Love Hurts as they say in the world of cheesy cliches. Not, that I'm in love or anything...more like serious like. Let's not get ahead of ourselves here, ok? You'll give me a panic attack...Oh Lord. I can feel it starting. My palms get sweaty, my heart beat speeds up and becomes erratic, my breathe gets short and fast...air...I need air! Eh, screw it, I don't have the energy to panic right now. Someone point me to a bed...or the coffee pot actually since it is time for me to get in the shower. *Heavy sigh*

It had all the signs of an exceptional night, yet it began completely the same. One last look in the mirror before I headed out the door. Wait, What's that? Oh yeah, I remember that ring. He gave it to me. We were only about 6 months into our 3 year relationship when he surprised me with it. Him...the one I let slip away. Maybe, I'll just throw it on...for luck. And as a lesson learned: I shouldn't let the next one slip away...I shouldn't walk away so easily the next time love tackles me to the ground. I should stand my ground and take all the punches it delivers. I should cherish each bump and bruise. I should stand my ground and accept it. So I put it on, just as a reminder. And maybe even a little luck. I wasn't in a rush. That was apparent when I started getting ready 30 minutes late when I knew I would have to stop for gas and to return movies I had rented the previous weekend. But I'm never in a rush to these things. Never overly concerned and forever indifferent. So I was late...per usual. Only 20 minutes though and at least I called and mentioned it at some inconsiderate moment on my commute into the city. It was all taken in stride. Only later was there some good natured ribbing about it which was so rightly deserved anyway. But from the moment I walked in and sat down in my expertly choreographed apathetic way I knew this time was different. Although outwardly I maintained my reserved yet alluring persona, inwardly all the red sirens were flashing and someone was screaming through a bullhorn, "Danger Will Robinson, Danger." No, this wasn't going to be your typical Angel meeting. I would play it off initially like it was, never alluding to what I was truly thinking or feeling, but eventually the facade would drop a bit. Waver along the edges. An Angel expert (all which have long since become extinct) would have caught on to the hints of the mask unraveling around the edges. An expert would have caught the brief instances when the coyness faltered and the laughter sounded more nervous then the typical sarcastic and flirty. But there were no experts present so the masquerade continued even in its faulty state. Eventually it became paper thin with the assistance of a few wisely chosen beverages and eventually my genuine interests and/or feelings surfaced. My hard outer shell was pealed away leaving my soft endearing core revealed. Like a newborn animal born in the open, exposed to the elements and the unknown lurking in the night, the exposure could have been reckless and dangerous unless the right person was entrusted with task. Thankfully, I believe I have placed myself finally in trustworthy hands. I chose the right caretaker.

I have never done this before...never have I spoken on here (or really anywhere for that matter) about what I think of our political leaders in this country. But this man: is a fucking idiot. I have only gone out to the polls once in my little life (GASP! Yes, I know my civil obligations and I outta be proud to live in a free country where we have a democratic process...yada, yada, yada. I got it.) to vote and the only reason I went, the only reason I went was to vote against HIM. Yes, the dumbass won anyway, despite my modest effort and the country has suffered as a whole since. So last November America finally took a stronger stand against him and voted in a Democrat majority as an attempt to say, "Hey dipshit, we're sick of you f'ing up everything in Iraq. Cut it the fuck out." In response to our little statement, he fired Rumsfield. Sweet! We all cheered (me more quietly than others since I had not helped by casting my vote) and thought,"Alright, maybe he's getting it." Then today's news hits the fan. The mother fucker is going to increase the number of troops over in Iraq, rather than pull out completely as the American people so gingerly asked. As much as 70% (depending on which poles you use) of Americans disagree with this move. SEVENTY fucking percent say, "No douche bag. Bad idea." Yet this moron carries on with the plan and gives us a "Daddy knows best" public address to help our poor ignorant minds understand his backassward reasoning.

Kids...I'm not sure we can survive another two years of this.

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On a brighter note, Yahoo did some digging and discovered (how do people get paid to come up with this shit?) January 12th is one of the most common days for couples to break up. Thus, they declared it National Break Up Day. So, if you think your life is really sucking ass right now, check out some of the scenarios listed below of poor saps that were brutally set out to the singledom pasture:

My, What Bad Timing You Have

"As I was preparing to go to my in-laws for Christmas, I told my ex-wife that I couldn't go and that I had met someone else."

"I had a stroke in 2000. My wife came to see me in the hospital with her attorney and said that she was filing for divorce. It was Christmas Eve."

"I was served with divorce papers on our wedding anniversary."

"I broke up with my ex on his birthday. We had a major fight and I left him at the gas station. I had the keys to the house and he was five miles away from home."

"It was our anniversary and I had just gotten off work and was ready to celebrate. When I came home she was sitting on the bed upset, so I asked what was wrong. She said that her ex-boyfriend had come home from Iraq and asked her to marry him and she said yes. Then I heard a horn out front and she left."

Damn! And you thought I was harsh!

*Source

Friday night I went to the movies and saw Night at the Museum. It was cute and funny, but in a PG sort of way. Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson are always good for a few laughs, so it was doable. Probably more a rent and watch at home kind of show though. Spending $8.25 a person on it was not necessarily worth it. But I wasn’t in the mood to cry or think so it was the best option. I didn’t spend the better part of it wondering when it was going to be over (I’m an antsy person so sometimes I struggle watching movies), so that says something anyway. (Wow, don’t you love my in depth reviews of the silver screen? They show such insight. I know, I know. Don’t be jealous Shea, Adam and *(asterisk).) After I arrived home, somewhere around midnight I wasn’t all that sleepy so I hopped on the computer for a bit. I ended up being spotted on IM by a friend from KC I haven’t talked to in quite sometime. He is always good for some laughs, so it was an entertaining conversation at the least. We chatted for quite sometime until I finally headed to bed around 2:30am.

Saturday I woke up around nine, much too early for my liking, but I had errands to run. I had promised I would go car shopping with a friend and then we would hang out that night (see post from Saturday). I put off calling her until after I had finished some of my errands because LORD can she talk. I called to let her know I was done with my running around and attempted a pathetic white lie to get me out of the car shopping. My white lie back fired and got me no where. So I told her I would take a shower and then give her a call back. She then proceeded to talk my ear off for a good 30 minutes. Finally she took a quick breath and I quickly seized the opportunity to end the conversation. After I had been home for a bit (and still not showered, Hi My Name is Procrastinator.) she called again asking me my ETA and talked again, nonstop very few breaths, for another 45 minutes. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! After delaying the inevitable for a good 2 hours I finally resigned myself to the fact that I was going to have to get my ass in gear and head up to her place in Nashville…after I screwed around for another 90 minutes. She called again and the guilt made me answer. She said it was getting too late to go car shopping. I said, “Damn the luck. Can we just go out instead?” (If she had been there in person she would have experienced my eager, irresistible puppy dog face I use in desperate situations such as these.) After much badgering from me she finally succumbed to my evil ways and agreed to meet me out. Daunted and disheartened by the thought of having to listen to her go on and on about how wonderful her asshole ex is (this week) I quickly shot a co-worker a text message inquiring as to what her plans were for the evening. Thank the heavens she responded stating her and some friends were going to be meeting up downtown to watch the Dallas game and I was welcome to join them. Score! Downtown, football, alcohol and others to distract me…this evening was looking up! Now motivated to get my ass in gear I jumped in the shower and quickly got myself hussied up for a night on the town. (This means I put on earrings and lipstick. I know, I’m such a whore. ;) I had a pretty nasty week at work, lots of ugly issues to deal with and PMS to suffer from, so needless to say I was ready to “blow off some steam”, i.e. get tanked, tie one on, end up half in the bag…you get it, right?

I anxiously, yet nervously drove downtown. Nervously because I have only been there twice and I was never driving which means I paid zero attention on how to get there. I made it alright and even managed to find a decent parking spot for a meager $10. I met up with everyone at a decent place smack in the middle of the awesome night life of downtown. It was pretty quite since it was only 7pm so we got excellent service from the waitress. My coworkers friends were really cool. There was a couple there I sat next to that rocked. The wife was close to my age and also, I quickly found out, a very big smartass like myself. We got along swimmingly. We smarted off together with the one liners flying through out the entire game. (I love football and would have typically been enthralled with the game, especially with the HUGE projection screen it was playing on, but it was Dallas and Seattle for fuck sake. Just take me out back and shoot me if you ever find me getting excited about either one of those two. I used to totally love TO when he played for the Ravens and used to have the skills to back up all that shit talking he used to pull, but now…yeah, not so much. But I digress…) Halfway through the game my coworker gets the brilliant idea to goad my boss in to meeting us out. I don’t mean brilliant sarcastically, I mean it literally. My boss is a freakin’ riot and can drink like a champ. With a few well worded text messages referencing his age (35) and inability to hang with the “youngins” anymore, we knew we had him. He arrived somewhere around the 3^rd quarter and added even more life to the already thriving party. When he arrived I asked, “Where did you park your walker?”

Once the game ended me, friend, coworker, boss, a guy friend of coworker, and the couple decided to head to a club called Decades. You can’t help but love Decades. They play 80s music on the first floor and 90s on the second. You can shake your groove thang to everything from Duran Duran to a medley of Grease hits to Tone Loc and Prince’s Pussy Control. Soooooooooooo much fun. And being one that likes to shake what her mama gave her, especially after a few drinks, I had a blast. We kind of headed back to a corner over by the DJ and were just in our own world. Then us woman folk noticed if we hopped over the railing there was an elevated square about 5’x 5’ that contained none other than a stripper pole. So three of us (me, coworker, and ½ of couple) jumped the railing (I have a bruise on my inner thigh to prove it. No, I’m not showing you. You can just take my damn word for it. ;), and displayed our stripper moves, HOWEVER, all clothes stayed on and in tack. I had a ton of fun dancing with the girls and my new equally sarcastic friend and I also happen to be equally as shameless on the dance floor so I was laughing my ass off for most of the night. On a kind of funny side note, coworkers guy friend had shamelessly been trying to put the moves on me all night which I strategically managed to avoid/ignore. He was pretty tanked so I didn’t deck him or rip him to shreds verbally. Although when at the end of the night he shouted to me, “So, are we gonna hook up or what?” I was seriously, seriously tempted to. I mean who says that??? That shows about as much finesse as a pimple faced, pubescent 14 year old. Come on dude, seriously, get some game douche bag…I just pretended like I couldn't hear him over the seriously jammin' tunage.

BUT I didn’t let that damper the evening. It was an excellent, excellent night and I had a ton of fun. So much fun in fact that I spent Sunday recuperating by doing nothing but watching movies all day. Alright, not all day. I only watched two, but that was a lot for me. I saw Click and Snakes On a Plane. Click was alright. I expected a bit more from Sandler. I did have some laugh out louds, but I didn't fall out of my chair or pee my pants or anything. Snakes On a Plane? I waited 90 freakin' minutes to hear Samuel L. say, "I'm am sick of these mutha fuckin' snakes on this mutha' fuckin' plane!" Yeah, he soooooo should have said it earlier. With all the biting going on from the digitally placed snakes and over zealous screaming from the cast of woman, I almost forgot about it all together. Its too bad they couldn't have carried the humor from the last ten minutes back into the rest of the film.

Let's relive Saturday night together, shall we? Who has the pole? (Ignore the shotty video quality and just shake it like a Polaroid picture.)

Alright so I am supposed to go over to my friend's house today that I described in one of my previous posts. Yes, the one that has no self-esteem and sits around bitching about men one minute and then allowing the same ones to continually walk all over her. I have only known her for about two months or so. We actually met because she is my nutritionist, so this is someone I see on a regular basis. She moved to Nashville in May on her own. I moved here in September, we're both single so we though, "Hey! Let's hang out!" Yeah, bad idea. She is a cool person, intelligent and considerate. BUT... She has like zero self esteem. I thought I was going to be friends with the confident professional I met when I went in to learn about a healthier lifestyle, not the person that I know now. I am a compassionate person, but this is really beginning to stretch my limits, seriously. I have literally spent hours giving her pep talks about men and not allowing them to walk all over her and listening and listening and listening while she describes the latest round of drama as another one takes advantage of her. I have several issues with this. 1) The bulk of my consultations are not being spent listening to her bitch and moan about this assholes she has in her life (Yes! There is more than one!) and how whacked out they all are, instead of focusing on my health and diet. I could probably handle that to a certain extent, but now I am being forced to listen to it on my own time as well. She basically calls me everyday now and just goes on and on and on. She just allows this cycle of dysfunctional men traipsing through her life to continue on. I CAN'T TAKE IT. I will listen and I will be supportive, but for fuck sake do we need to test my patience this much??? Get some self-esteem already! Stand up for yourself and tell these losers you don't like being treated that way and you are not going to stand for it anymore! She tries to act like she does give them what for, but its total BS. Because they next day when I talk to her again, she's right back in the midst of the drama. For example, she dated a guy for five years on and off. TOTAL LOSER. Borrowed money from her and never paid her back. He's never had steady employment and is one of those people that always talks big about the next scheme of how he is going to make his fortune. He has never even bought her a birthday present...never even taken her to dinner on her birthday. The mother fucker can't even manage to call when he says he is going to call. So, two weeks ago she tells me she's done with him. She just can't take it anymore, she hasn't heard from him in weeks blah, blah, blah. The ass calls her up last night and gives her this whole song and dance about how he's changed and he's ready to commit, yada yada yada. She buys into it IMMEDIATELY and spends her entire morning today looking up jobs for him here in Nashville (he lives in AL). WTF??? What has this man EVER done for her? Yes, it may be true I am only getting one side of the story or whatever. But don't sit there and bitch and moan to me about all the fucked up shit this man has done to you and the minute he pays you any attention you are right back on him. I can't tolerate it. It sucks my will to live. All of the female friends I have made and kept in my life were very similar to me. They are independent, strong woman, with good heads on their shoulders. They don't let anyone, especially men, kick them around. This is not to say I cannot be tolerate of people with different personalities from my own, but Jesus Christ. A person can only take so much bitching and moaning and negativity. It brings me down and I hate it. I am a person that takes action. I don't like something about my life I start doing something about it. I didn't like the weight I had gained and the sluggishness I felt from the way I used to eat. So I did something about it. I didn't like living in CA so I moved. Yes, we all have our moments when we just need to be whiney. Lord knows I have them all the time, but not every day! I feel rotten for being so hateful about this. Just today she said to me, "I'm so glad I have you to talk to about this." Dammit. But it is my opinion that all relationships, even friendships need to be a two way street. This one is not. She bitches I listen. Honestly, I don't have a lot to bitch about it my life, its a pretty damn decent life. So I don't chime in a whole hell of a lot. And I don't exactly want to respond with how simply wonderful my life is, but I just can't take the constant bitching and moaning with no action. You don't like it? Do something about it!! I feel rotten being so intolerant, but I can only take this in small doses and I have been listening to it all week this week. I should have stuck to my hard fast rule of never, ever, ever answering the phone. sdkfhsdzkjfh.KHFLj!!!

I can't even begin to tell you the myriad of thoughts I have running through my mind this evening. Alright, that's a lie. I can and I will. Or at least give it a shot anyway...

Resolutions:

I am not sure if I want to make any this year. I can't decide if I want to burden myself with the realization that I am too weak to resolve to do anything. Although, I did refuse an invite to eat Mexican food at lunch today. No, you don't understand. That was a serious, monumental step for someone as weak willed as I. And I refused whilst eating cauliflower no less. Impressed? Well, you should be. I have always been a weak, weak person when it comes to temptation. Yes, we all have our little weaknesses, but mine have always far outweighed my strength in saying no. Excess of everything is in my nature, its part of the fiery Sagittarius spirit that runs deep within a December born redhead like me. But today I said no. Perhaps this means I could learn to say no to other things? Yes, perhaps. But I think I may take more time to contemplate what I would truly like to resolve to say no too more often. No one said your resolutions have to be set in stone by Jan. 1st, did they? Well, even if they did I have never been one to follow the rules.

Reflection/Introspection:

Lately I feel as though I have been observing myself from a far. Trying to analyze and compute what makes me tick. I have seen some changes in myself over the last few months and I am not sure I like them. For example, I am indifferent more often then I am truly interested. I have not found anything since I moved that really gets me going, in a negative or positive way. There is simply nothing, currently, in my personal life that I can say I am excited about. Secondly, I am horribly guarded these days. I don't seem able to express emotion of any kind outwardly. Yes, in my blog I am very vocal and can rant with the best of them and I used to also be that expressive in my personal life as well. But lately? I got nothin'. I don't tell people what I think anymore, and I tell them what I feel even less. I guess this stems from having no confidantes in my life on a regular basis. I don't feel like anyone really knows me. And when I start thinking about that I start to wonder if I know me? At the moment I do not. It seems the me that rose up out of the ashes of my last relationship is not the me I am used to and more than anything, not the me I want to be. The last few months I have allowed myself to get swept up in the harried pace of my professional life and ignore my personal life, but more so the life of the me that lives in my head. I have always prided myself on being very in tune with the me in my head. We were always on the same wave length, outside me and inside me. But for the last three months, yeah.... not so much. We have lived to separate live s, gone our own ways. Inside me has gotten quiet. She doesn't communicate with outside me. What has resulted is two very different me's. The me that the outside world sees is no longer the same as the one that lives on the inside. I don't like that and I have decided I am going to have to work hard to bring those two me's together again.

Change:

Through the process of getting inside me and outside me to communicate again, I also hope that each will improve in a few areas and result in a new improved, unified me. I want to go back to being a little more of an emotional, sensitive person. Although I know I will never be an overly emotional person (its just not who I am) I would like to go back to feeling a little more deeply. I am not sure when I stopped doing that, but I did. I think it has made me considerably more insensitive and just left me feeling out of touch with everything around me. Somewhat coupled with that thought, I would also like to become more romantic. I think I have become to sensible over the last few years and need to resort back to being a little more fanciful. I seem to have shut out the side of me that liked to day dream and wish and hope for things that are just out of reach. By eliminating that part of myself I become lifeless and dull. I believe one of the fastest ways to grow old is to stop dreaming. I don't want to get old.

What I would like is to become more analytical and fiery, like *(asterisk). And more insightful and worldly, like Red. I hope I can become more sensitive and caring, like Margaret. And maybe more of a romantic like Adam. I would love to find even an ounce of Shea's creativity in myself.

I guess, in a way, all of that is my resolution. But not your standard run of the mill, no-way-in-hell-your -gonna-keep-it, resolution. More like a promise to myself. A commitment to evolving as a person and continuing to grow. I am very comfortable with who I am. I just don't want to become so comfortable that I end up stagnant. Maybe with all of your help I can keep moving?

As I am sitting watching the 50 Most Devastating Hits in sports last night on the Best Damn Sports Show Period and enjoying every minute of it, it dawns on me. With each passing day I am slowly yet steadily becoming more and more male. How much longer will I be able to watch football, talk sports, hunting, fishing, burp (on queue), cuss, and tell people to “buck up” before the testosterone completely takes over and I start having junk hanging down between my legs? I mean seriously people. I. Need. Help. I need to get some sort of estrogen toting influence in my life stat before I start playing air guitar and scratching my nether regions in public.

The only female influence currently in my life somewhat regularly are my co-workers and one friend who is so down trodden with self esteem issues it pains me to hang out with her more than once a week. The really good girl friends I have made over the years are somewhat like me, i.e. smartasses, strong, confident, independent woman who can appreciate a good chic flick and weekends spent power shopping. They kept my girly side firmly grounded, but didn’t allow me to turn into a self loathing, overly analytical, whiney girly girl either. They kept me in tune with my feminine side and made sure I didn’t get too rough around the edges. Right now my edges are about as smooth as a cactus. I have always prided myself on being able to maintain a healthy balance between the estrogen and testosterone in my system, never allowing one to overrun the other. But now, I fear I am failing miserably. If I keep this up I will forever be everyone’s buddy and never their date.

I have always approached dating from a more practical perspective rather than an emotional or romantic one, but as of late I have taken this to a ridiculous extreme. Example: I rarely answer the phone anymore when people call and I never call when I say I tell someone I will. These are things all of my female friends have complained about for years, shit even I have complained about it in my younger days. And now I’m doing it to people. People call me (everyone from my mother to potential dates) and I just look it at it and say, “Eh, I’m busy.” Or I will hear myself telling someone, “Yeah, I’ll call you later,” and thinking, “You’re so not gonna call.” And on the rare occasion that I do answer the phone when it rings, I find myself easily distracted by a video game or the TV instead of listening to what they are talking about…second biggest complaint of all females regarding men.

I think I seriously need to get some “softer” influences in my life as soon as possible before I just become an all around dick. Don’t get me wrong, I will never stop being somewhat of a tomboy. If I haven’t outgrown that part of myself at this point I doubt I ever will. However, I am very concerned about taking that side of myself to an extreme.

So, my next concern is how the heck am I supposed to meet other females to become friends with? I never seem to have a problem meeting males, but how do I go about tracking down female companionship? It’s not like I can scour Home Depot or put an ad on Craig’s List for crying out loud. I need someone to get me back in the habit of being a little more sensitive and nurturing. And while they are at it I think I need someone to teach me to be more romantic too.

Somebody, for the love of God, take me shoe shopping or for a facial. Save me from myself.