Healing time.

That's my update on my leg. Ouch is all I have to say.

In other news ...

On the Match front, Nik actually contacted the BF with a "wink" and an email on her own. She hasn't heard back. When relating the story to my dad, he mentioned to not jump off the deep end - yet. He said the emails that get sent activate you and then promptly brought me to his computer where his profile had been active within 3 days - and he's in love with his girlfriend, "I'm just too lazy to remove it." So I deleted him and decided that the best way to go about this was to see if he responded to Nik.

On the family front - my sister is a bitch. Turns out my mom found out about her surprise party. I talked with her and we decided to still have the party - except that lovely work of art contacted everyone on my party list and switched it to her house! Wait - you get all the credit for my idea? I don't think so ... though, on the bright side, it does mean I won't have to shell out the $700 ...

Championship Game.

We did it. We beat the 10 year champions and advanced to the playoffs. It was amazing. And then we went to the championship game.

The score is 2-2 in the top of the 5th when the changing of the guard happens, I replace E as catcher. In the 6th, I'm finally up to bat. I concentrate hard, "roll your wrists."

First swing. I miss. Shit. Second swing, crack.

I think to myself, What the hell just happened? I just slammed the ball. Run!

And I trip. In the batters box. By the time I get up, the ball is at first and I'm out.

My favorite part.

My moving out letter includes this little paragraph, my favorite part ...

After consulting with my renters insurance I have found out that according to Wisconsin Landlord/Tenant Law 704.07 in section 4, the apartment currently fits under “untentability,” therefore, if the tenant justifiably moves out under this subsection, the tenant is not liable for rent after the premises is deemed untentable and the landlord must repay any rent paid in advance apportioned to the period after the premise became untentable. I am doing my best to try to facilitate moving out by October 1st since the repairs should be done by September 20 according to our earlier conversation. This way the remaining rent for September that I would owe after the premise becomes tentable would be awash with the rent owed from August.

Let's hope I get that loft!

That's it!

Okay, so I go back to my place this morning to take a shower and great ready for work. There's this funky smell, I just figure it's the ceiling which has still yet to be touched.

I go about my business and realize I'm broker than broke, so I figure I'll grab a frozen dinner and be on my merry way for lunch. Except when I open the freezer there's a warm blast. And as I look closer I realize that all the food in is ruined, because the fridge doesn't work.

Son of a bitch.

So that's it. I'm done. I'm out. I talked with my dad about helping me buy a place since I don't have the savings I should, he agreed under way too many pretenses so it's back to the apartment hunt.

I've found crap. If heats included I can go to $750, if it's not, $650. You'd think that could get you something nice in the 'View - maybe with air conditioning. But to no luck. So funny, because I could get that and more at American Colony when I lived there.

But I don't want to move that far away.

Not the added stress I need right now.

Wearing it on your face.

I couldn't play poker, I'd be horrible. Every emotion is always worn completely on my face - like last night when I was out with TW and NG. I drove home thinking that I'd get the balls up to say something, but I didn't. Not that they all couldn't tell that something was up. Which made him a little extra kissy but I just couldn't do it. At 3:00 in the morning I left, $120 in the hole (reminder - don't open a tab and leave it anymore) and this morning I'm awake with a bit of a hang over still wondering what to do.

Online - Oh no.

So my friend Nikki tells me to get online - NOW. She's recently joined Match and was searching for single guys active within 24 hours ... hmmm. There's my boyfriend. Yup, right there, active with in 24. Nothing like that to ruin your day.

To make matters worse, his criteria - not me. What the f*ck?!

Now I get to the point where I decide what the hell to do. Nikki offers to hit on him (they've never met), I turned her down. That would be a total show of not trusting, and I don't want to know his answer to her questions. The second option is to bring it up - something I can't really see myself doing. I could ignore it, but then I'll just sit here wondering.

Son of a bitch.

The Cost of Missing Someone.

With living out of the suitcase the last week, the BF and I have really not spent anytime together. I've decided to go back to town for a couple hours tonight in the hopes of spending just a couple hours talking, laughing and making out.

But, since I'm in suitcase situation, I had to make an emergency stop to Target to get materials, so heres my cost of missing him ...


Sexy backless shirt - $15
Razors to shave - everything - $5
Shaving Cream - $3
Sunsilk extra soft hair conditioner - $5
Dial sexy almond body wash - $5
Pair of jeans that hug my ass (since he wants to throw it in there so bad) $40
New coverup - $7
New pouty lip gloss $7
Tweezers to get all those stray hairs - $2
Plus some random items - $15.00

Just shy of $100 bucks. Let's hope I can see him!

Holy Embarrassment.

We took the championship. We drank in celebration. I wanted victory sex. The kid just went to bed. We watched TV. I told him I wanted to cum, so I got on top and rode him hard and deep.

And then, a queef. Oh yeah, you know what I'm talking about. The most embarrassing thing ever from being too wet and going to fast - the building up of air and the release. It was incredibly embarrassing, but he acted like it didn't happen. I think I'm getting red right now just thinking about it.

Good thing I'm disappearing for the weekend.

Observation - Doctor's Office.

I went to the lady doctor today (sounds like my Grandma but eh) to get the annual check up and to do an STD scan in lieu of the conversation with the BF's wife and made this observation.

In this certain "situation" - have you noticed the room is always like 35 degrees? And, they ask you to get all nekkid and say they'll be back shortly, only to give you like 20 minutes. I'm not an old lady, hell the BF says were going to have sex and it takes me maybe 10 seconds to be fully undressed?

Corporate Pissing Contest

Gentleman, please. Put away your dicks and stop trying to piss on each other. Well, actually it's just the damn "internal art director."

Because of his "new" position he keeps redesigning pieces that other designers are on. I finally had enough and talked to the old boss lady. The problem is that he's (a) an instructor, so when he's working on internal pieces he can't teach and (b) his f*cking ego is so big that it's impossible to work with him! I tactfully asked her to let him know that his input is great, but that his opinions must be typed and given to the designer.

Fun isn't it? Growing from small business to corporate world?

Mistakes.

We all make mistakes. It's unavoidable. Sometimes the mistakes are little, "I shouldn't have done that," sometimes they are life altering, sometimes it takes 8 months for you to fully realize what you did.

The posting last week where I talked about the supposed "art director" at my job has recently escalated his already gigantic "I'm so damn important" head. This morning he reamed me a new one, again. He's hung up on me 3 times today alone. All I keep getting told is to remain professional.

The mistake I made in regards to him, is I'm actually the one who pushed to have him hired. We were looking for a replacement instructor and I saw one of our money makers going by the wayside. After attempting to hire three other people, I suggested him to the dismay of our talent director. Now I realize that those gut instincts are correct. I'm so entirely sick of him telling me how to do my job. I want to scream, "you wouldn't have a job if it wasn't for me! Show some respect!" But instead I have to remain professional and just suck it up with "I'm sorrys" and "I know" even though I'm not and I don't know.

Tis the life factor I guess when you're dealing with a 26 year old a-hole.

Relaxing.

Tonight it's all about the relaxing for me. I got home at a decent time, spent a few minutes living in the luxury of the internet, watched cable TV, chatted with the guy, printed off those pics finally from the zoo and ended with a post here.

Sans alcohol.

Detox is nice. But tomorrow's the booze cruise. BF offered his pad for me to sleep at, but being that I've gotta go to the chick doctor Wednesday and drop off my kid brother (who lives a block from my dad) in the AM, it looks like I'll just have to take it easy on the boat. Or hit it hard, then hit it easy. Either way, sweet gesture by Mr. Wonderful but it'll have to be a pass.

I've also decided that I think mosquitoes like rich people more than regular peeps. After the charity event on Saturday, the after bar left my poor feet bitten to hell. Today, I got one on my shoulder in Franklin. I haven't gotten bitten all summer at home in the 'View.

In the last bit of news I've been shopping around for an apartment. I did check out the condo scene, but decided against the potential of buying. The market is too over saturated and I haven't bumped across any that were in my price range and made me ooh and aah. Plus I still never know where I might be in a few years and I'd hate to have to sell instead of just give notice.

I've checked out a couple little one and two bedrooms, I'll take my time this go-round, and I'm having more standards. Must have air. Heat included? Extra bonus, especially knowing I could go up about $50-75 a month for rent. I do want to stay in a duplex, but I'd prefer to be on the first floor.

If anyone knows, let me know!

On the Detox.

Thursday night I was so pissed about my ceiling that I drank.

Friday night was #1's birthday, so I drank.

Saturday was a charity event, so I drank.

Sunday we bowled and the BF called me one of my hated nicknames, so I really drank.

Today, no drinking.

The Sky is Falling.

Or more like my kitchen ceiling. The good news? I'm looking for a new place?

The bad news? I have to move back to Franklin for awhile until I find a new place.

I want sex.

Now. And a massage. Maybe a massage that leads to sex. Then a nap. Then repeat.

But instead I'll be on my second day of working 13 hour days. Lovely. I'm hoping the BF calls after the kid leaves. I'm going to tell him we need to talk, bring him upstairs, undress and ride him like a stallion.

Because Titles DO Matter

I love the antidote that titles don't matter - but they really do. We had an internal debate at work saying that you could have whatever title you wanted, because it was "just a title." My argument is that it's not just a title.

For instance, now that I'm a "girlfriend" I'm not pursuing random make out sessions on top of the Golden Tee Machine or even teetering on the verge of thinking about making out with someone.

And today that became increasingly true in the job title category. There's a big difference between an Art Director that has worked at his title and one that is just handed out. Recently, a low-level Graphic Designer with no agency experience was cast into the "internal Art Director" position. Instantly I think his head expanded so it couldn't even fit through the door.

All of the sudden he was the king. He ignored processes, wanted to know why he wasn't conferred on a project and then had the nerve to tell me how to do my job.

Said "Art Director" has taken more than his fair share of time off of work. We get comp time so it's no biggie, but in between August and September I've rearranged his teaching schedule more times than I've actually been able to schedule his sessions, so of course it's a tad bit difficult to get people into his courses.

Lately he's informed me that he needs more people in his classes, needs classes more often and then today - told me that I had not appropriately informed him of Boot Camp. I should have emailed, brought it up in the staff meeting and asked permission. Tu-shay, probably is true but it's been scheduled for 4 months but hell, let me just cover your a** one more time and you can lecture me about the appropriate things I should do.

Yeah, Great.

See, I didn't mind being lectured to by a seasoned Art Director because they have reasons to say the things they should. They've been put through the crap machine and earned those stripes. I don't just listen, I respect.

What I don't respect is a low-brow designer who had the nerve to tell me I was just a "coordinator" or informs me what he will and will not do when training is how I make my money.

Oh, and guess what? He helps himself to my beers at the softball games - boy isn't touching a single one of my beers next week. F'Off, buy your own - I've been supplying you for what now? 7 weeks? You make more than me to begin with and I'm just a "coordinator" in your eyes while you're a mutha'fuc*n' Art Director.

It's raining, it's pouring.

In lieu of softball, due to the rain, I'm sitting at work until about 8:30 for a meeting. Good thing that there's no sex right now, because I'd be day dreaming of other things to do with my free time.

I started looking for apartments yesterday, this morning my thoughts on moving were clarified. As it turns out, they were well aware of the leaks prior to me moving in and knew they did patchy (no-pun intended) work job on it with plans of fixing it last November. Okay, I've been paying my $650 with smiles and YOU KNEW??? I came home to more chunks of my ceiling on the kitchen floor when I ran home to change... I guess moving is a pain but not having anyone come over because it's a mess is more.

On the BF front, completely nervous about Friday when #1 and Biz (different Biz) meet him. First of all, he's not supposed to be my "boyfriend" technically until I get their approval, although I am a big girl and can make these decisions on my own and second of all, AD will be there who already doesn't like him (though he fully admits that now it has nothing to do with me, it's his personal opinion). Not like a little pressure... I'm finding myself completely falling for this guy and in all honesty, even if they don't give the pass - it's not going to stop me from seeing him.

All though the back door may stop him from seeing me. The guy is trying nice and hard to get into, umm, every area. I haven't done that in about 5 years - strict policy is at least 6 months and it's been a little over 2? I mean, he tries but I don't think it'll be the pitfall. Otherwise it's not worth it anyway.

I'm over it!

I swear I haven't seen the sun in a week. This is ridiculous, it's wet and horrible. I haven't jogged in a long time. I haven't had my windows open. I've been sleeping in a sweatshirt. It's so cold the Bumpkin has been sleeping with me - which he never does. And I'm REALLY over my kitchen floor being seeped with rain and trying to dishes with orange drips falling from my ceiling.

Enough is enough. I left the landlords a note again and not to my surprise, I don't think they even came upstairs to look. There's an easy 6x6 chunk of my ceiling ready to crumble at any minute.

And I still don't want to move. But now I'm actually looking.

And one more thing.

We'll be doing a bit of a switch in abbreviations. Due to circumstances as of late, TW is now BF.

As in boyfriend.

How scary is that?

But still so great!

I used the "B" word

It wasn't the alcohol that made my tongue slip, it was that crazy bubbly feeling and the way he makes me laugh. It was the fact that the night before I told him I was cranky so he wanted to get pizza in my system to help. It was the morning before where I was still asleep in his bed and he had to work, so he told me to sleep in and kissed my neck. It's the fact that I've been ridiculously happy and so has he. So when we did the introductions for the tailgate I said, "This is my boyfriend." And I saw this little smirk as he reached out and shook hands with each guy.

It's insane. I'm insane. The whole fact that I'm even here is crazy. I don't fall in love. I don't date only one guy at a time and I definitely don't have boyfriends. But I've only been with him for two months, I haven't even thought of anyone else, and he really is my boyfriend. So odd for the person writing dear Johns only a few months ago, the person that was driving to Madison for a piece of ass from an aging rock star.

It's hard to explain to people that were so involved with me just a handful of months ago. I still get arguments - he's the guy that disappeared for 6 weeks, he's the one that preferred hanging out with R & K then me at Summerfest. He's the guy that responded to me saying I didn't want just a FB with "okay." He's the confusing wreck that made my head spin. He's got an ex, he's got a kid, he's not overly romantic. He doesn't talk. Some people think he's boring.

Yes. He was all those things and I'm glad I have people that care enough to remember. Can people change? No. But can you break down walls? Yes. I mean, I wasn't all that innocent in not resisting the changes going on. I was just as quiet, I was just as stand off ish. It's new, it's infatuation. It's gross-pukey beginning stages of being with someone.

It's the way his baby blues look at me, the smile out of the corner of his mouth. It's the surprise dinner he wanted to cook for me. It's the fact that there's Lite in the fridge because it's what I drink. It's the phone call every night, it's the want to spend time with me. It's the fact that I'm never "on" - it's just me and that seems okay with him. It's the fact that every night isn't a party, sometimes it's the Brewer's game on TV and we say nothing. It's the fact that during the game yesterday his arm was around my chair. I can yell, I can scream and in the end, I'm smiling because I'm with him.

And the sex is now good. In fact this weekend, it was great. Mind blowing, hair messed up great. Passing out right afterwards phenomenal.

And it's the fact that I'm actually going to let this happen.

I'm going to have a real boyfriend and be in a real relationship.

Goodbye four years of being single. Goodbye resistance to broken hearts. Goodbye funny stories about pathetic attempts to hook up. Goodbye booty calls. Goodbye ex-lovers. Goodbye.