He Said Yes.

I am married now (thank God). But I remember a time (not so terribly long ago) when I wasn't. This time was called, well, "non-married life." I was "non-married" for 32 years. In these years, some of them more painful than others, I dated people other than my now husband. I went places with my girlfriends and my gay boyfriends and tried to talk to boys that I had nothing in common with. I tried because I thought that you were supposed to try to meet boys - it's what girls did. I didn't necessarily really have actual "connections" with many of these supposed man/boys, but I was in my early 20s and some of my friends were actually having REAL connections with man/boys... and some of them were even (for Christ's sakes) GETTING MARRIED! So... I got out there. I met a few fun guys... and everyone I know that actually knows me knows that I'm totally crazy for people in general. I mean, I love being in love, so it takes me about a week to be totally boy crazy. But everyone that knows me also knows that it takes me about that long to change my mind as well. I change my boyfriends like I change nail polish, so... moving on.
Anyway, you meet them. Fine. Great, even. But then what? You talk at a party. You may even exchange numbers. But you're 21. And fickle. And don't even care that much. So, why do you even care about Dave or the fact that he has a part time job at the Gap? Yeah, he's pretty cute and he kind of looks a little like Jon Spencer and he can rock a mean pair of leather pants, but do I really think I'll feel the same way when I'm 22? So... do I call him again tomorrow? Or do I even bother? I mean, he doesn't even have a British accent. Come on... at least make it worth my time.

When you go out with your girls, you, too, have pick up lines, just like any guy does. Sometimes they work. Sometimes they don't. I mean, they aren't JUST like the guys. Let's hope you don't walk around asking guys if they are tired because they've been running around in your head all night. However, there is a method to our madness as well... it's just not nearly as sad most of the time. It's usually a little more subtle. I remember when I met my husband, it was nearing the end of the night and I feared that we may just say our goodbyes and not see each other again. Well, I just couldn't let this happen. He mentioned something about a place downtown that he and his friend were thinking about going to that weekend. Basically, I just said "here's your opportunity to ask me if I would like to go with you. Because if you do, I will say yes." Now, that could have gone two ways. He could have done what he did, which is ask me... and the rest is history.. ta-da! Or it could have gone horribly awry and I could have looked like some sad girl, desperate for a man. Thank God, it turned out in my favor. No girl wants egg on her face.

Anyway, I'm not even sure that this blog has a point. It started out with one... now I'm just wondering where I was going.

Tonight I am taking a trip to the near east side, my friends, to a sad little bar called Si Greene's. It's 90s night - Sally, Shannon, Carrie and I are going to put on our Hammer Pants and trip the light Fantastic. So, if you are in the neighborhood, stop by and do a shot with me. Later, bitches.

The Warm Up...

It's the first day of the American Idol season, children... and I'm warming up my fingers, basically. It's not going to be a full write up, but there are highlights, of course, and we need to discuss. For example, I just saw kimono-making-pink-hair-having-anime-karate-kicking girl screeching through her freakishly yellow teeth. I think she may actually be a serial murderer.
If one more contestant gets up and says that when they sing, music comes out of them from a "special place," I'm going to put a brick through the screen.
Oooh, what's up with the guy that fell out of the tree? Love him! He looks like my cousin Charlie's friend Ron with the Firebird... tight pants... comb in the back pocket... I'm loving it. And him.
I love this Boston thing though... these motor boatin sons a bitches!
Victoria Beckham is looking especially thin tonight... I'm so jealous... it's always been my lifetime dream to get in my car without opening the door.
Dude, that Japanese guy that sang "All By Myself" was classic. I'm looking for the full video of that on youtube later.
I think I teared up a little when the LaToya Jackson impersonator sang that Cascada song... I mean, he was really living his dream right there in front the judges.
But on a serious note, I kind of did get a little misty when the guy from Africa did get through and his dad said "thank you" to the camera... see? I have a soft side, people!
Oooh, church girl... pullin it out! But here's my question. If her parents were totally religious and she wasn't allowed to listen to secular music, then don't you think it's a little strange that she called her parents at the end and told them that she got through to Hollywood and asked them if they were proud? If they had never listened to secular music before, then would they even know what the hell American Idol was? Ah, food for thought...

It's my bedtime, kids... so, I'll see you guys next week... when the subjects will be world politics, peace in the Middle East and American Idol.