I met Abe Lincoln . . .

and my camera died before I could get a picture with him.

I'm obsessed with Abe, I love him. No seriously, it's a sickness. I'm crazy about him. I read books about him, watch any movies, tv shows, or YouTube videos that so much as mention him.

I think he's the hottest thing ever. I want his babies. If only he weren't dead. I'm sure he would have chosen me over that royal bitch he married.

In college there was a very tall boy that I had a few Communications classes with and he looked enough like Abra-hankin' Lankin' for me to develop a severe and embarrassing crush. I would talk about him to my roommate constantly, how dreamy he was, how I'd stare at the back of his head during Mass Media classes, anxiously await our public speaking days to hear his voice.

I didn't care about him as person. I had absolutely no interest in getting to know him. I just liked to stare. It's really a good thing too, 'cause he was terminally stupid.

I am 110% positive that my real Abe was the smartest, most amazing man in the entire world. Oh Abe, how I wish my camera would have held on for just a few more minutes. All I got was this picture of my soul mate playing Bago:



*drool*

I just wanted my oil changed . . .

I was getting my oil changed last night after work and was talking to the manager. Every time I come in he has something off-topic and inappropriate to talk to me about.

Last time he talked about famous people he found attractive and wanted to sex up. Then asked me the same question, males and females. Me being me, I of course immediately spouted off about my lust/love for Angelina Jolie and Scarlet Johansson. Then he got graphic and started talking about his fantasies, luckily my phone rang and I was able to end the conversation.

This time he talked to me about how he left work early the day before so that he could go to the nearest bar and drink. How he's pretty sure he's an alcoholic because of it and that he just doesn't care. He continued to enumerate on the virtues of drinking until you pass out in the middle of the day and can't remember anything.

I have no problem with either of these topics when discussed with friends, but the random ass guy that I'm trusting to change the oil in my car? Not so much.

What about me says, feel free to tell me inappropriate and off topic information about your personal life?

It happens all the time. I'm just trying to be polite in the supermarket line, say Good morning, how are you? and then have to listen as some random girl tells me about the boy she had sex with last night and how tired she is today because of it.

I readily admit to being the Queen of TMI, in fact, it's a running joke with most of my friends. However I try to control myself enough to to NOT talk about it with the man trying to repair my cable.

Bachelorette Adventures Pt. 3

The final installment.

So we get back from the work out, eat some pizza, the bride-to-be opens her severely risque gifts, we drink some more and decide to go to a bar.

We start looking for a bar that is near the club we're going to later. We park and start walking down the street. At this point a scary old man comes out of a smoke filled bar and starts following us shouting, "You're whores, you're whores." At first we though he was saying, "You're home, you're home." But after he followed us into the bar still yelling "whores" at us we figured it out. He continued to hang around as we did shots, picked out music on the jukebox and generally ignored him.

At one point he cornered the bride-to-be and started talking to her about romantic songs and how soon she was getting married. I went over and not so subtly turned my back on him, cutting off his view of her and the conversation.

We hung out there for a while, played some pool, took some dares which involved me doing a short version of our lap dance in the middle of the bar, my sister asking for a random guys number, the future SIL asking a guy for change for the condom machine and another guys sock. We also danced around to a Hairspray song. I'm sure the regulars at the bar just loved us. *insert eyeroll here*

From there we went to the club, most of the party got lost on the way there so SIL and I headed in and hung out until they showed up. It was another hour until the guys joined us and we all proceeded to drink, dance, sing along, and have a generally awesome time.

Towards the end of the night the DJ put on Birthday Sex and SIL and the bride-to-be did a lap dance for some random guy and the groom. I took lots of pictures and was very grateful that CG was around as a convenient excuse for me to not shake my ass and hump a chair in front of about 200 people.

My youngest sister, a fresh faced 18 year old came very close to accidentally dirty dancing with a drunk 40 year old. How can you accidentally dirty dance you ask? I'll tell you how, some creepy as hell, drunk ass comes up behind you gyrating and taking his shirt off. I have to admit here that I was more than a little tipsy. I got up of the bar stool crossed the dance floor gave the creep my most hateful look and drug my sister up to the front and away from Creepy McPedophile.

We left soon after. It was totally awesome and on the way home there was much slurred singing and chest thrusting.

Sometimes (most times) being female is the greatest thing ever.

Real World Dating: Mortgage Miles

Miles lives one town away from me. I met him while driving through said town and randomly stopping at the grocery store. Miles asked me to help him choose a ripe melon. I told him that I knew nothing about melons and that it was an affront to my feminist nature that he would assume that I would. He laughed. It was a good sign that he got my sense of humor. He was also cute with a thick neck and a square chin. Yum.

I gave Miles my number and my email. We chatted for a while through email and really hit it off. He talked about his family and his job. He was really into the environment and worked with the State Environmental Agency to upkeep our local Prairieland grasses. He was also a volunteer firefighter. Me and men in uniform, it's a weakness.

We decided to go out a few weeks later and met up at my local country club. It wasn't nearly as fun as I figured it would be. He kept talking to me about mortgage rates and homeownership.

Now I'm as interested in all of that as your average first-time homeowner, but I sat through 3 hours of this kind of talk. Every time I tried to change the subject he brought it back up. We missed our movie because of it. I started ordering alcohol.

Even while slightly buzzed he was boring. It was absolutely tragic. He drove me home and we kissed. It was also boring. Double tragedy.

I hoped that he was just nervous and that maybe on our second date things would be better. Luckily for me a week later I met my current guy.

Miles left me with fond memories and a broader knowledge of real estate. Thank you Miles.

Gary Allen - Not the Singer

My next traumatizing collegiate dating experience was with Gary Allen. Gary was hot, I'm talking red hot. So hot that he turned me into a gibbering pile of goo with one look.

I met Gary while I was doing a bake sale for my honor society. Gary was at the next table in full army dress and was busy handing out pamphlets, trying to get college kids to sign their lives away, and being hot - mainly being hot. He was there with a Marine and an Air Force recruiter. I was there with fellow honor society member Anika.

Anika is/was completely beautiful. Gary kept staring at our table. I kept avoiding eye contact and figured he was interested in Anika. I'm cute in a dorky, girl-next-door kind of way, but in no reality was I on Gary's level. Gary comes over to talk to us. We talk for a good 10 minutes.

Apparently we were flirting, I thought I was just being friendly, but I get those two things mixed up a lot.

He walks away to talk to his armed forces buddies. Anika tells me that he's totally in love with me and I need to have his babies. I agree.

He comes back over and talks for another 20 minutes or so and asks for my number. I'm shocked. We go out a few times, but more often than not we hang out in the bedroom of the townhouse I share with 3 other girls.

He always comes straight over after work, always dressed in fatigues and always undeniably good-looking. I begin to notice not so little things though. Like he makes severely inappropriate and sexist comments about women constantly. I was a Woman's Studies minor at the time so that's always a bad move. I let it slide because he's cute.

I notice the imprint of a ring on his left hand. I ignore it because he's cute. One night he comes over with the ring on. I ask him about it.

Him: "I'm not married if that's what your asking, but if I was would it matter?"
Me: Um, yes it would matter, I would never date someone who was married. I couldn't hurt another woman like that knowingly.
Him: Well I'm not married, but obviously if someone is unhappy enough to cheat things aren't working so it's not like it's a real marriage. Would you really stop seeing me?
Me: Yes, of course I would. There is no excuse.

The conversation ended there because we started making out. Yes, I'm a terrible person, yes I was extremely stupid. But I'm telling you, he was just soooo good looking, and the high that I got from someone that hot being attracted to me made my head swim.


I saw him once after that it very, very far from pleasant.

So Gary Allen wherever you are please go DIAF. As for me I've been doing penance for my vanity for two and a half years now. The karma police totally got me.

Physically and Mentally Well?

So my iPhone seems to have come through it's traumatic toilet experience with only slight damage. Everything is working perfectly once I unlock the phone. However, when the phone is locked sometimes the screen lights up for no reason and I get a notice about an attachment not meant for the iPhone being plugged in. If those are the only issues I can totally live with that. I'm super grateful because the more I thought about spending $200 on a replacement the more I decided that I couldn't do it. I would have just stopped in at my nearest US Cellular and gone back to life pre-iPhone. It wouldn't have been a fabulous life, but it would have been an adequate one.

I spent my Saturday at a HUGE NHRA (I think those are the initials) Drag Race in Joliet, IL. I got up at 4:00 am, I don't get up at 4:00 am for Christmas so my getting up to go see some cars go fast proves how very in love I am with CG. I wasn't even very grumpy, which I'm pretty sure was a mind over matter thing in that I really don't want anyone to see the real morning "me" until I've got them in a place where they cannot leave me (related by blood or marriage) once they witness the dragon-lady that is me when I don't get my full 8 hours on a normal sleep schedule.

When I got home late that night I was expecting a big Katie (my beagle mix) mess. I was pleasantly surprised. Not only had she refrained from tearing my bathroom to shreds she hadn't had an accident or anything. Wonders never cease.

My Sunday involved my half-assed attempt at cleaning while my mind was screaming "just lay down for a little bit, you deserve a lazy day," sadly by about 4 pm that little voice won out and I spent the rest of the evening watching Pride and Prejudice with Colin Firth *insert naughty comment here*. Mr. Darcy is my hero, I would totally smex him up right, but only after I sexored Edmund from Mansfield Park as played by Johnny Lee Miller. *sigh*