I think it started in High School. The first boy I really liked, left me (didn't really LEAVE me...but he moved away) to go be a drummer in a band. Maybe that's what started it all. From then on all drummers became the unattainable - the inconsistent unreachable. I'm more of a chaser than a commit-er. And drummers are good to chase. Plus they make really great faces when they play - and I like laughing.
I mean, maybe I should be the kind, generous neighbor that goes out and buys them some. Maybe they don't know where to get them? Or they can't afford them? It is really hot outside....will this behavior continue when CA cools down? I'm sure one or all of them are just allergic to cotton.
All of this shirtlessness would be FINE if they were ugly. Or didn't lift weights in their sleep. Every time I see them (yes, all of them...or maybe especially one in particular) I have to consciously remind myself to KEEP BREATHING and DON'T FALL OVER. It's a lot harder then it sounds.
Seriously. Someone just buy this guy a shirt. Or all of them. Or tell them that doing laundry or walking their dog or sitting out on the front lawn or walking out the front door to look up and down the street shouldn't really work up that much of a sweat that they need to take it off.
Belgian Love Rival
Also....probably not the best way to win a guy. I am guessing guys aren't into girls who murder people. Well, most guys.
I even included previous boyfriends who have OBVIOUSLY not been lucky enough to find someone as great as me to settle down with ever since we broke up.
So, I feel much better now. Apparently the ENTIRE world is not married....just most of it.
I was about to turn LEFT (so I looked much like the above picture....except not a male)
A car that was coming the opposite direction (that I was waiting for before I turned into my neighborhood) put their hand out the window right before they passed me and gave me a HIGH FIVE!
Hilarious. And bizarre.
Luckily I am so coordinated it did not knock me off my bike!
This was found outside the library at a small Christian college in Southern California.
Now, there are several conclusions we could draw:
1. This is an activity for missionaries. It is hard to find a date - you are a loser that wants to go live in a hut overseas somewhere and eat bugs. The school is going to bring together other people like you and help you get to know one another so you can find a partner to marry and move overseas with.
2. The students at this Christian school are SO BUSY with their studies that they do not have time to traditionally date (and let's face it, that can be pretty scary anyway, and Joshua Harris would not even approve) so some missionaries got together to put on a social where the kids on campus could meet each other - quickly - and still have time to get back to the library before it closes.
3. The Christian liberal arts college has started admitting people of other faiths - and the Bible classes they offer aren't doing the trick of "converting" them like they thought they would. So, they've decided the sweet smiles of the other Christian kids on campus might do the trick. So what better way to convert someone than to date them, right? Also the best way to learn a new language!
"Want to be converted? Come to our missionary speed dating!"
"Want to make a difference in your world without having to travel to another country? Come convert heathens right in your own campus library. Bring $20 or a bottle of wine....er....grape juice."
Okay, that's all I've got - what else could it mean???
So, when I was in my younger 20's I told myself I was going to do a triathlon. It never happened, so I added to my resolution the phrase "by the time I am 30." As I was nearing in on my 30th birthday reality set in, that it was now time. I commenced training and signed up for my triathlon.
I awoke early in the morning, road my bike to the triathlon and searched for my area in the "Clydesdale" section of the transition area. (This is where you store your bike, and swimming equipment.) I was waiting around nervously, and began to talk to other competitors. Out of nowhere, one of the men next to me said, "take a look at that!" For the first time that morning, I realized that our transition row was next to the 25-29 year old women.
The gentleman proceeded to tell me that he was a 6'2", 260-pound biking machine. We were starting on his weakest area, which was the run. He let me know that his strategy was to follow, "that piece of ass" he just showed me. I asked what if that slowed him down instead of helped him finish with a better time. A new guy chimed in, "a good piece of ass makes it worth it." He said he loved being in the transition area because then he knew the exact age of the women he was "trolling." Classy.
As we step up to the starting line, I find our hero lined up behind his new stalkee, and didn't see him again until after the race was done. Presumably he finished a few seconds behind our victim. Now you know the secret lives of the "Clydesdale" division.
But here's the deal. I feel super popular when I get about 39 comments a day all coming through my inbox for me to approve. But then I get immediately sad when NOT EVEN ONE of those comments is real. They all want to tell me about where to get a great pizza or find a good magic show. Ridiculous.
So, in an effort to both cut down on spam and boost my self esteem - I am going to make all of you real people out there type letters. It should really only effect one or two of you [sorry mom].
But I just feel so out of place still. I think I always will unless I can someday bring myself to get something a bit larger....or with color....or a picture.
Alas, that is today's confession.
Oh...and I got another tattoo :)
Yeti: "You LOVE Justin Bieber, don't you?"
8 year old Boy: "Noooooo, I just love his music."
Wow. Well, there you have it. a boy that can separate the artist from his music. If only girls were so smart.
Apparently it is either hard to catch me (cause, you know, I'm so FAST on my bike)!
...or the more likely reason....bike helmets are just apparently not all that attractive. I think it is really hard for the male mind to picture what the female under a helmet COULD look like. So they just don't trouble their mind to figure out if they're hot or not. The helmet is too much of a distraction.
I like biking to work.
I was taking a walk around a beautiful neighborhood on Monday with one of my besties, Lizzo, looking for "rent" signs. We came across one that looked like a pretty nice building. I called the number that was on the sign while Lizzo walked into the complex a bit to see if she could peak into some windows and get a better idea what it looked like. Just then a neighbor walked out of her front door.
Neighbor: "Excuse me, are you looking at the apartment that's for rent?"
Lizzo: "Yeah, we just saw the for lease sign and thought we would check it out."
Neighbor: "Oh no! You already signed the lease?"
Lizzo: "No, we just SAW the for lease sign. This is our first time over here."
Neighbor: "Oh good. Well, I probably shouldn't say anything. I could get fucked for this, but the landlords are like slumlords. They are terrible. They don't fix anything, and cheat you, and they totally shafted that guy when he moved out. I just thought I would warn you. DON'T MOVE HERE."
Lizzo: "Oh...um....okay. Thanks."
I guess it's good to meet the neighbors.
Casually figure out a way to meet some of his friends - if they say "oh, YOU'RE Yeti? blah blah blah"
That's either a really good sign or a really bad sign.
So....I guess you still won't really know if he's interested - but at LEAST you'll know he's talking about you.
You're welcome for the helpful advice.