I am not a big fan of the LOL. It seems overused and inauthentic.



I don’t know if I have ever told you readers this before, but I am kind of a big deal. I have been trekking in Nepal before. That’s right…made it to Annapurna Base Camp. I puked when I got there…but I think that’s totally normal.

Anyway, part of what I love about trekking is the people you meet along the way. You are bound to meet people that will journey with you along the way to each stop. Our group found two such guys – Boom-Boom and The German.

Boom-Boom could provide us with several blog posts on his own – he was an exuberant Canadian man that was SO FUN I kind of wanted to put him in my pocket and take him home with me.

But the point of this post, is The German. All the trekkers that were staying at this mountain stop for the night were in the main dining area sitting at one table crammed around a little gas heater. It was FREEZING. I ended up sitting next to The German all throughout dinner and then afterward as my group spent some time in discussion and debriefing the days activities.

He was quite distracting.

First of all, he was really good looking. Second, he kept trying to engage me in conversation even though I was trying REALLY hard to pay attention to what was going on with my group. And lastly…he was apparently a masseur back in Germany, so he kept trying to give me a massage.

Dear readers, I cannot express to you how difficult this was to resist after trekking all day long – on Day 4 of a 7 Day trek in the Himalayans. He just sat there massaging my leg, then my hand and arm and then finally worked his way to my shoulders. Who was I to resist?

The best part though (and the point of this post) was as he was massaging my shoulders he took hold of my shirt, tugged it a little, and said: “I do much better massages without the clothes on.” [insert hopeful glance here]

Riiiight. Good try…real good line…but you’re going to have to prove that you are a professional by working around the clothing. Cause my shirt is staying ON.



Things with "Earl" still bother me only because I feel SO misunderstood.


Three way

I love vacation weekends. It means sleeping in, relaxing, and lots of time outdoors in the sun. On the Sunday of Memorial Day Weekend some girlfriends and I headed out to the beach to catch some much needed rays of sunshine and downtime. Unfortunately the wind decided to puff up its muscles and show who’s boss right when we got there – but it was still an enjoyable couple of hours…all the way up to when we had to wrap ourselves in our towels to keep from getting freezer burn.

Anyway, after we headed back home and washed up we decided to head out for some dinner. We ended up at Jake’s Burger in Old Town and it was delicious. The chefs were really pretty friendly and we enjoyed joking around with them.

This is the part where I tell you about these annoying people that walk around Old Town selling flowers. I always feel awkward when I am walking with a guy and they practically harass them “pretty flowers for the beautiful lady?” I feel like I have to stick up for him, or say I hate flowers, or pretend we just got some but left them in the car. I don’t know…it’s weird.

So one of these guys comes into the restaurant. It is just three of us girls so I feel less pressure. We obviously do not want to buy OURSELVES a flower to remind us that we are single and have no one else to buy us these.

The, suddenly, mid burger-chomp, one of the chefs comes up to our table and presents us with a rose. “Sorry I could only get one for all three of you, you’ll have to share. But I wanted to get a rose for the beautiful ladies.”

One rose for three girls.

But I guess in these hard economic times – we’ve gotta take what we can get.

My favorite part was when we got up to leave after eating and he said, “Where are you going?” Sorry bud, the rose was nice, but not THAT nice.


Me and Kate = we're tight

Exchanges with the Latin Lover continue. This time, I leave you with a disturbing text exchange we had last week:

Latin Lover: “Have you seen The Reader?”
Yeti: “Yeah. Super intense, but really good.”
Latin Lover: “…I’m watching it right now and I do not know how, but it made me think about you!!”

Umm….I am pretty sure that is the most disturbing thing he could have said to me. I have no idea how that movie could EVER make anyone think of me.

I told a friend of mine at work about this little exchange to which he replied:
"Seriously, Yeti, I have to believe that someday you will meet a man who doesn't think you are a Nazi."
And for the rest of the day another guy in my office decided it would be hilarious to call me Nazi-Cougar. Well played...and disturbing.

WHAT could he have meant? HOW could that ever be a compliment?


The power of a clean car

You know what’s attractive? A guy with a clean car.

It does not have to be big or expensive or shiny or fast, but clean? It has to be clean. Clean makes you seem to have things together just a bit more. [And I’m not talking about washing your car once a week *cough* Jeff *cough* that would make me a hypocrite, I am just talking about keeping it tidy]

There are few things that turn me off more than getting ready to jump into a guys car and suddenly having to worry about that filthy mess penetrating my immune system.

If a guys car is a mess, that just puts up further obstacles. I am rethinking how close I want to get to him throughout the evening because I now question his personal hygiene. And even more than that I am suddenly uncertain about ever wanting to see where he lives – if his CAR is this dirty…imagine what his apartment looks like. I might never make it out alive!

Seriously, we’ll smile and pretend everything is fine, but inside we’re dying. Clean your car.


Mexican swine flu

And yet another text exchange with the Latin Lover

Latin Lover: "Hola Yeti! do you want to go dancing tonight?"
Yeti: "no bien. next time."
Latin Lover: "...poor senorita, rUokay? ...mexican swine flu? ...I am the antidote!! ...just kidding, be careful and I hope you get well soon. besitos!!


Easy Solutions

This is one of the most HILARIOUS things I have ever read in a long time. Please...click...enjoy.

***Warning: You may laugh so hard you pee your pants***

Link #1:
So, you're in love with one of your friends, but she has a boyfriend and probably wouldn't have sex with you anyway. What do you do?

Link #2:
So, you want to kiss your sexy neighbour, but you've never even said hello.

*Thank you to Matt for passing this along.


Beer Me

I met a Mexican guy salsa dancing. We shall call him my "Latin Lover." He is wonderful, ADORABLE and I couldn’t resist going on at least one date. What can I say? I love the attention!

We met up at a local Mexican restaurant in town for appetizers and margaritas. He was looking cute with his little vest and overwhelming cologne. About half way through the meal a woman came around to the table asking if we would like our picture taken…he insisted [$15 is a GREAT deal for a photo!]. It is now prominently displayed on my bookshelf (right next to the Please-Date-Me Card…I think I am trying to build a salsa shrine).

During our time at the restaurant he tried to get to know me a bit more by asking me what I enjoyed doing for fun and what I was studying in school. One of the courses I was taking was called “Intercultural Attachment.” To that he replied:

“this is perfect, you can practice right now, interculturally attach to ME!”

Ooooookay buddy. Good try. [it only worked a little]

A bit later in the evening he invited me to join him at his parent’s house for a family baby shower they were having for his sister. He then invited me to Vegas for the weekend with his brothers. [I don’t know WHEN he and I started dating, but he’s a very nice boyfriend…]

The date ended pretty well. He gave me a kiss – but I really feel no chemicals. He won’t give it up though. He is a pretty persistent dude. And the problem is I don’t understand half of what he tries to communicate to me. I have to have my roommate translate most of the text messages he writes to me.

He found out during the date that I really like beer so a few days after our date I hear a knock at my front door, but when I got up and answered it no one was there. I find a box with my name written all over it and inside is a variety of Sam Adams sample beer. Mmmmm…this might be worth a few more dates! Beer-grams? So much better than those crappy things we used to put in each other’s lockers at Valentines in jr. high.