I. Spilled. Coffee. On. Mr. Man! I am a horrible mommy. I made my a.m. coffee and thought that I could fit some hot chocolate in the cup too (the cocoa also is made in my nifty Tassimo). Well, the cup starter to overflow, Mr. Man was winding his away around my feet and when I went to grab the cup, the hot liquid splashed me, I said, “Fuck!” and some of it spilled onto Mr. Man’s fur. I was traumatized, he was fine. I chased after him to make sure he was ok, and he was busy licking the coffee/cocoa off of his fur. He must have got it all because when I came home tonight, his fur was once again white and pristine.
I have so far received the thumbs up from two guys last from last night. One was the last guy I talked to. No no no no NO! The other one, I was surprised. I remember the conversation as being painful but I guess once I started yapping about hockey, it was all right. He likes the Blackhawks. Boo. He’s a Ph.D. student about 90 minutes from me. With gas being $3.60/gallon, I’m not so inclined to hook up with someone that far away. He also received his master’s from the University of Michigan, rival of my Michigan State.
One of the guys last night knew my girl Gigi’s ex-husband. She spent the morning trying to figure it out, since all I had was a first name and the knowledge that she and this guy went to h.s. together. She finally remembered who it was and was even more delighted when he posted a photo. So not my type. So not her type.
I have a headache for about the 18 zillionth time this week. I can hardly bear to be outside. When I pulled into my complex tonight, the lawn was being mowed. Oh good God, make it stop. Fresh-cut grass makes my nose plug up immediately. I knew this was going to be a bad spring, because the winter was so mild, but this is awful. The allergy meds make me tired but without them I’m even more miserable. Right now, between everything, I am currently on six medications: two antidepressants, two types of allergy pills, thryoid meds and birth control. Oh, and the ambien a few times a week. No wonder I’m a mess.
Two beers + allergy meds = a not-so-bad time
The speed dating was better than I expected. Out of 12 men, there is one that I could see myself going out with and two others that I liked. With all three of them, the six minutes went very quickly. With others, it felt like 20 minutes. Good God. I will talk to just about anyone but, come on, you have to give me something to work with!
The first guy I talked with had been divorced for 2 weeks. Yes, 2 weeks. He also has 5 kids. Yes, 5 kids. I think he was on his way to being intoxicated too. But I remember what those days were like and he was only there because he was dragged along by a friend. We just chatted about sports. His friend was a hottie. He was from Wisconsin so he was excited to talk about hockey.
It’s pretty much a blur, though. I was there for over 2 1/2 hours. I made notes and circled “yes” to maybe 5 men, but I’m not so sure. The guy I really liked is a professor from Colorado; another one is a IT manager originally from the Virgin Islands; one works for the city. Hmm can’t remember the others off the top of my head. One was the newly divorced guy’s friend; he’s really cute but he seems like he would be good for fun only. I guess I’ll sleep on it and enter my choices online tomorrow.
I guess if you’ve wanted to do it, go for it. I mean, why not? Otherwise I would have spent my night parked on the couch watching TV.
Now I’m tired and I’m tired of talking. I don’t even care who wins American Idol but here I sit. Sigh. I am super duper excited about the return of “So You Think You Can Dance” tomorrow night. Whee!
In 15 minutes, I’m leaving for the speed-dating event.
Argh.
I’m looking all cute and shit but I’m feeling like I just want to hide on my couch.
Six minutes per person.
I can do this.
I found out my debit card had been canceled — the account had been “compromised” — and also got a certified letter from the IRS because my dumbass ex-husband did not pay the tax bill like he fucking said he would. Shocker. So that means a nasty VM for him tomorrow.
The new guy is supposed to call me again tonight since I freaked out last night. I need a name for him. Anyway, argh. Just argh. Then tomorrow I have this speed dating thing to get through, and then I still don’t know what Asshat and I are doing Friday. I’m not too too concerned but come on, the guy’s been trying to get me to go out with him for six damn months.
The Red Wings play again tonight. My confidence is shaken. I fear this is their last game of the season … sigh.
Edited to add: Ok, one down. Asshat called. We’re going to meet up Friday but we don’t know when … he’s going to the track and to the Kid Rock concert in the afternoon. So at least it will be something casual.
Update No. 2: Guy with kids just called me. According to my phone, we talked for 7 minutes, 53 seconds. Then he abruptly ended the conversation saying, “Well, I just wanted to give you a call. I’m going to get something to eat.” Oookay. Moving on …
- I am so f-ing sick of my sinuses and allergies acting up. Despite taking my allergy meds 2x a day plus throwing in a Sudafed this afternoon, I still feel like I have been hit across the nose and forehead with a board. Argh.
- New guy with 2 kids called me while I was at Weight Watchers. I haven’t called him back. I feel panic-stricken about shit like this. It’s just a frickin’ phone call. Gah. Having a headache doesn’t help matters.
- My favorite Dancing with the Stars finale moments: Florence Henderson seated next to Lisa Loeb, and Young MC making a rare public appearance. I shouldn’t mock, I still quote “Bust a Move.”
- The Bachelor guy is annoying the hell out of me — I hate his voice — but he has the right idea: He hasn’t taken a woman to meet his family in eight years. Just saying.
- This guy at Weight Watchers had his twins with him. He kept looking at me like I should be oohing and aahing over them. Obviously he doesn’t know how I am with babies, i.e. I have no idea what to do with them.
- Ooh, The Bachelor’s sister is asking the tough questions. Glad I’m not the only bitchy, protective sister out there.
I got my ass up and went to Wal-Mart this morning to get some groceries as well as household things. I needed cat food and litter, and while I was down that aisle I decided to get the boys some catnip. When I got home, I spread the catnip on the different levels of their scratching post as well as put some on the floor. Instead of mellowing them out, they started to fight — it was kind of awesome, as they were on different levels of the 6′-tall post, boxing. Now Mr. Man is rolling around on the floor, playing with a toy. Stoned cats are fun.
I am fascinated by the show Ninja Warrior. Have you seen it? It’s on G4, some station that seems to show stupid shit that doesn’t interest me. But I saw this show while I was at my parents and it is some crazy shit. It’s this Japanese show, where contestants try to make it through four insane obstacle courses. When they fail, they end up in a pit of muddy water. It was on last night when I went to bed and it was on this morning when I turned on the TV!
I’m looking forward to dinner with the Asshat later this week. What terrifies me is my speed-dating thingie on Wednesday. What the fuck was I thinking? I’m sure it won’t be too bad. Heh. I’m doing it partly to challenge myself and partly because, well, why not? Well, I can think of a lot of reasons why not but that’s neither here nor there.
I went for my annual HIV test today. The clinic is about 30 minutes from where I live; I did get a bit scared the further down this street that I went (if you’re local, it was at Washington and Arsenal). A few people did stop at stare as I drove by. One old man shook his head, like, what’s that crazy white girl doing here?! But I finally found the clinic and figured out where to go. Chuck, the guy who was my counselor, was a nice guy; it turns out he’s a DJ at a bar I go to sometimes.
I told Chuck that I have no problem telling a guy that sex is not gonna happen without a condom, but I always feel awkward asking a guy if he’s been tested. He suggested that I approach it from the standpoint of looking after my own health, and if a guy doesn’t know his status, well, he can be tested in under an hour. (He did the oral test on me and it took 20 minutes.) We laughed about condoms and I brought up the Pastor Carl story and asked what can you do if a condom is too big? He thought about it and his only suggestion was to use a female condom, which he made me take. (I refused his offer of dental dams, though. LOL)
Anyway, my test was negative. It was a lot less nerve-wracking than it was last year (the first time I was tested). Honestly, I felt a bit silly going in to get tested, but I admit, I did have to answer “yes” to about half of the questions on the risk factor test. I’ve had more than one partner, I haven’t been in a long-term, monogamous relationship, I’ve had sex under the influence of alcohol … will I stop any of those behaviors? Doubtful. But I will speak up more; after all, if I could be a big girl and go to the ghetto by myself to be tested, some guy can too. Here’s a good place to start: The Damien Center
It dawned on me the other day that it’s been a year since my last HIV test. Since I fit a few of the risk factors — although I am very insistent on condoms for intercourse but not so much for other activities, and I have had more than one partner in the past year — I’m going to get tested tomorrow. ‘Cause I don’t have anything else planned so why not have some excitement by going to the free clinic downtown?!
Actually, I didn’t realize it was free testing until I went to the web page; I told a friend where I was going to go and he said, nope, too many hookers, and pointed me in another direction. This place offers services primarily to the gay community but of course will take anyone … and I’ll make a donation, not only because I’m coming from the ‘burbs but because I have friends who are HIV+ and have used the clinic’s counseling services. While I’m 99% sure that I’m A-OK, it never hurts to know for sure. So heads up, be prepared tomorrow for Miss Monique’s Trip for HIV Testing! Wheeeeeee!
That I let a phone call from the Asshat go to voice mail because I’m watching the hockey game???
Yeah, my priorities are pretty clear. 
God, I am such a guy when it comes to watching hockey. These Indiana boys just don’t understand.
Anyway. I’ve seen that a few other people have done this quiz. I took it a long time ago and redid it tonight … same results. Consistency? SO not me.
I caught the last few minutes of Tyra when I got home tonight. The segment I saw was about a magazine called Bodacious, which features nude photos of plus-size women. I’m not sure how I feel about this. I went to the web site and I guess like all porn, it objectifies those who participate in it. But in this instance, it seems to rise to a different level — like, the readers are picking up the magazine just to see nude women, they’re picking it up to see women of a certain size. I guess it’s no different than all of the other subtypes of porn, but because I fit into this category, I suppose it makes me more uncomfortable … It’s difficult to think of this as empowering or making a statement when the girls on Tyra who had been in the magazine were only 19 and 20 years old.
I’m going to dinner with the Asshat a week from tomorrow. He’s going camping with his brother this weekend, then we both have other stuff going on next week. Another interesting guy e-mailed me last night. He’s in a band; he sent me a link to a few of their songs … the jury’s still out on what I think of the music. He is cute though … he also has two kids. All these really young guys — like 20, 22 — have been e-mailing me lately. They’re all adorable but come on. My friend was teasing me today and said, “I’m not doing that anymore, Kim” and she replied, “What is it you’re looking for again???” then we both laughed like idiots.
Another hockey game tonight … Wings are up in the series 2-1 … Wheee …
