29)

WHOA!!!!  What's this?! Two posts in one month by the infamous absentee blogger?!  MADNESS!!

And now that we've covered that....  So here's one thing you probably should have already gathered from my previous posts, but for those who are...shall we say...denser than the average reader, I'll just go ahead and spell it out for you--which doesn't actually have the same effect in writing as it does in speech, at least not when taken literally.  I am a sarcastic and cynical asshole.  If this offends you, we probably were't friends in the first place, so its all good.  With that having been said, I was thinking of writing a rather short self-help book and thought I would run what I got down at work the other day by you, so here it is...enjoy:


"It makes you wonder, doesn't it?  Why is it that every time you seem to find everything you think will make you happy, the universe suddenly pops up and pulls the rug out from under your feet and leaves you in shock flat on your ass and crying?
I actually know the answer to this one.  You see, you are just being a whiny twit.  It's not the universe pulling some imaginary rug out from under your feet; its you.  Now then, unless it was some sort of freak accident--no, your boyfriend breaking up with you, you getting a third traffic ticket this year, and/or waking up late so you miss your plane do NOT count as freak accidents, I was thinking more along the lines of getting struck by lightning, bitten by a radioactive insect, and/or suddenly acquiring Midas' touch--I can pretty much guarantee that what ever it was you have seen fit to blame on the universe also didn't happen "all of a sudden".
There were signs that your little Utopia was about to come crashing down all around you, but you didn't want to listen, or in the case of the deaf, see them, did you?  Noooooo...that wouldn't have made you happy and who can be unhappy in a Utopia?  No one, that's who.  So you purposefully ignored all signs pointing to reason, but inevitable doom.  You were in your little "happy bubble" with your delusional version of perfection to keep you warm and stupid.  I've got some disappointing news for you, my dear.  It turns out, "perfection" has some pretty sharp-ass edges, now doesn't it?  There is a bright side to all this melancholy though; once your delusional bubble has been popped, you will suddenly be able to pull your head from your ass and begin to use your brain once more...at least until the next time."


I sure do hope you enjoyed reading the beginning of my self-help book.  I was thinking the following pages would contain all those horrible saying your family and mine would throw in our faces when life got us down.  You know, just the really encouraging ones like, "suck it up, buttercup" or "walk it off" or even, "rub some dirt on it," oh, or even, "I stopped listening the second you started bitching."

Thoughts? Reflections?  Options for continuing, other chapters, content?

28

Let's get down to brass tactics, shall we?  I am kind of a dumbass when it comes to boys/men.  I'm sure if you've read...any of the other posts, you will have already gathered this fact and are now thinking to yourself, "Wow, she sure does like to state the obvious, doesn't she?"  To put that question to rest, yes, yes i do quite enjoy stating the obvious, but moving onto the the examples for which I am calling myself a dumbass...

The first being that I am still very much in love with Andrew, though I don't really want to get back together with him.  He keeps acting weird with me which, of course, sends my brain into crazy-girl mode and I'm not actually a fan of that mode despite my constant visits.  One day his family and I are sitting around the dinning room and we're all laughing and talking like the old times before Andrew and I got together in the first place.  I was all kinds of excited because I had seen that "spark" in his eyes.  He was smiling at me and speaking directly to me, even teasing me.  It was great.  Now he's gone back to not being able to be in the same room with me and seems to have gone so far as to avoiding entering the house when he sees Franny parked out front.  So that leaves me to assume that I am a delusional nit wit with issues regarding wishful thinking for "seeing" that damn spark.  You know what they say, sparks cause fires and then your ass gets burned.  However, it would be a lie to say that I didn't wish that fire would burn his clothes off so that I might see if screwing his brains out would get him out of my system.  Don't worry.  This isn't a theory I'm planning on following through with.  Clearly, it will forever stay in the hypothesis stage because dreams don't count--if you say they do, you suck and I don't like you anymore.

Onto the next example of my dumbassery--that's right, I made up that word, go forth and use it.  The mere fact that I dated Ben (see previous post for further details) should really tell you everything you need to know.  I actually had myself convinced that I was falling for him and now I have trouble even remembering we actually dated.  How idiotic is that?!  No, you need not answer.

And...moving on...  Let me introduce you to Matt.  He is my latest proof of my dumbassness.  A little background: I met him while I was working down at Tucson Mall for Bare Escentuals--best make up ever, in case you were wondering--and he was working for T-Mobile.  I had seen him around the mall, but was completely enamored with one of his co-workers so I didn't talk to him much, but he'd apparently called dibs on me when he saw which meant that I didn't stand a chance with his super gorgeous friend.  However, two weeks before I moved back home, he stopped outside my store and we talked for a little bit, and he asked for my number so we could grab a drink one night before I left.  While that drink never happened, we did start talking a whole big bunch.  I went down to Tucson one day to start bringing more stuff back home and went to see him at work.  When I left he walked me to my car and kissed me.  Now, there weren't any fireworks or anything super corny like that, but he was an amazing, AMAZING kisser.  Definitely top three material.  Anyways...about a month after that, he decided to tell me that he"thinks he's in love with me".  Yeah, that happened.  He also decided, shortly after I had moved and told him I was still a virgin in a late-night drunken phone call, that he was going to be the one to take my virginity.  I'm not going to even attempt to lie and say this didn't appeal to me because it TOTALLY did.  I just kept thinking, "Well if he can kiss that well...what else could he do to me?"  Then he kept doing the "I love you" thing which I didn't really enjoy, but i was loving the attention so i went ahead and kept on talking to him.  In our last conversation after I got back from visiting Amber in Denver, we talked on the phone from about ten till five thirty am...it was ridiculous!!!  That was quite a busy conversation too.... He managed to slip in some stealth phone sex.  I know, you're wondering how one accomplishes stealth phone sex and I'll tell you.  Now we'd pretty much always talked about sex, but that time was quite different.  I'd never really understood phone sex...especially being a virgin.  It just seemed like a lot of work just to get off and I don't like working hard at such things.  But, DAMN the boy had a way with words and he actually managed to get me into it a little, but not much mostly because of the virginal status and my SERIOUS lack of experience in such fields.  While I'll never admit typing.saying such a thing, it was actually kind of fun and exciting.  However, about two hours later, he finally convinced me to tell him about the Andrew saga, so I did.  He then proceeded to get pissed off at me because i still love my first love.  Apparently, unlike him, I can't just walk off being in love.  Needless to say that conversation didn't end on the happiest of notes and we stopped talking.  I ignored the few texts and one call i got from him after that and he stopped trying.  Don't worry, the dumbassery continued.  Last night, i was feeling lonely and a little guilty for just ignoring him, so my dumb ass texted him.  We talked and he wants to know if I want a relationship with him.  I didn't respond last night because I figured this was something to sleep on.  When I woke up this morning, I realized that I really didn't want a relationship with him.  I don't even really want to screw him anymore.  However, I haven't exactly gotten around to telling him that yet... oops...

Oh, but wait there is one more small thing I haven't mentioned yet.  While sober Kerstin seems to make all kinds of poor decisions, drunk Kerstin is much, MUCH worse.  While I was in Denver with my girls, we went to Ladies' Night at Jackson's in downtown Denver.  Well, it was $5 all you can drink and I took that very seriously and started downing drinks like there was no tomorrow.  At some point in the night I had asked one of the security guards what size his gauges were in his ear...apparently that translated to flirting because he stayed pretty close for the rest of the night.  I ended up giving him my number so he could send me a picture of my sister doing a boobie-five with one of Amber's Denver friends.  I hadn't thought anything of it considering I didn't even have my phone that night.  My sister had my phone because her's was dead and she wanted to talk to Bean's brother.  Apparently, she also flirted quite heavily with the security guard, whose name was Bobby.  Like I said before, this hadn't popped up on my radar at all until last week.  The guy sent me a picture of his erect dick.  While I've never actually seen one up close and personal, I can still tell you that he really should have left his hand out of the picture because I know how big/small it was, and that gave me an idea of how less than impressive he actually was.  Now, my dumbassness in this one is mostly that I didn't respond to the picture with something snarky like, "really? should I have been impressed?"

Well, that is the saga of my dumbassery with the male population...I'll likely have more stories soon, if I keep going to the bars to see new bands.  PS:  The Sail Inn in Tempe on Wednesday nights...rocks.