My life is crazy! At least I think so...But my friend B told me today that I am "the harbinger of sanity". Ummm....I had to look up "harbinger" in Websters because I had no idea what that meant. Umm...my life is far from sane! I have a crazy mother, a loopy and at times unreasonable boss, an ex I still allow in my life that can push my "insecurity" button like no one else (I know, I know...drop it!) and I've been dating like mad. My friends, tv, music, movies and yarn are the only thing to keep me on this side of sane...seriously!
Friday of this past week was no exception to craziness. It was a full day. I took the day off because I had an appointment with the building inspector. But before that I decided to stop off at the city clinic for a std screen. For those of you that don't know, April was STD Awareness month and I usually do a screen every 6 months because it's just a good practice to have. There is a lot of not so cool stuff out there and it's better to know than be scared of results. So the city clinic is a great resource to the public. They have drop in hours, they only ask for a $10 donation, the staff is friendly and they let you leave with *cough* supplies. Considering my co-pay at Kaiser is a lot more than $10 and they don't give you any goodies after the visit...plus they tack on a "lab fee" on top of the co-pay. Fuck that! I'll take a wait and the $10 donation anyday. So people, if you live in the city and want to get checked out...the city clinic is the place to go. NO! I don't work there but it's one of the few services the city provides to the public and why dismiss a good thing.
After my clinic visit, I went back home to get back in time for my appointment with the building inspector. Yep, that's right...I tattled to the building inspector because I am tired of wasting my time dealing with my lazy and cheap property manager/landlord guy. It took me over 3 months, three letters, numerous messages and a threat to call the building inspector to get him to come and PATCH the roof. Damn thing probably needs to be replaced. But he never painted the ceiling where the leak was and created an awful and garmongous stain. Frankly, I am tired of looking at this stain and tired of being taken advantage of. I may not pay a huge amount for my dumpy one bedroom apartment but I would appreciate it if it looked nice and he took care of what he was resposible for. So I tattled and she said he was responsible for painting the stained areas of the ceiling and cleaning my cruddy and dirty skylight. Cool! Now I'm just waiting for the letter in writing that says all this stuff.
After my visit with the cool building inspector, C came over, we went to the B2B expo, walked around Noe Valley in search of Lucy (the store people...not the redhead!) and grabbed a bite to eat. I didn't find Lucy...but I found Jane...as in See Jane Run where I bought pepper spray. I feel like I need to explain about the pepper spray purchase before I go on about the rest of my day.
So I'm in Dallas, sprawled on the floor in the middle of the night trying to find something in my bag when I feel the comfortable feeling of my pepper spray dispenser. ?? Oh and in the next pocket, my lighter! If you guys haven't realized, both are items not allowed on aircrafts and I just flew 1,500 miles to Dallas. Yea, I know! Weird...and doesn't necessarily make me feel safe to know I got through security with this stuff since anyone can. Why wasn't it caught on the x-ray machine?! I'm glad I didn't have to go through the security hassle since I overlooked keeping this stuff in my purse but you gotta wonder. And did you see on the news recently that they don't even screen cargo that they put on passenger planes? What the hell are these people thinking? They'll screen luggage and pat passengers down and make them semi-strip but god forbid they screen huge boxes with God knows what in them?! Yea, that makes a lot of sense.
Anyways, I'll end that tangent there. Bottom line: as a single girl, living alone and being a complete freak magnet, I need to replace my pepper spray because, well...you never know. After walking around Noe Valley, C and I bonded over getting out nails done and I went back home to take a nap. Yes, a nap...yes, at 3pm...cuz I had a date. I need all the ZZzzZzz's I can get you know. So I took a mini nap that only made me more tired and I had to drag my ass down to Starbucks to order an espresso so I could wake up. I am quickly becoming addicted to these little shots of liquid caffeine. And I am sure the Starbucks guy got a kick out of me barely being able to say "I wanna single espresso" and my disheveled, bedheaded appearance. C'mon...so obviously just rolled out of bed. What do people want from me?! I know what I want...a damn shot so I can wake up and be semi-functional for this date. The shot and shower took care of that for me. I was ready on time and looking forward to meeting Mr. D.
Mr. D is short for Mr. Diplomat because he had gone to grad school to prepare to be a diplomat. Weird, huh? I never knew there was a school for that. So he picks me up, I go downstairs, he greets me with a handshake, he looks great...a guy ina suit is just as much a weakness as a guy in a uniform, (i know, we girls are so frigging lame!) walks me to his car and opens the door. Of course, my jaw is almost down to the floor after seeing his car. You know, one of those Mercedes 2 seater sport coupes that looks like it's outta 007?! Yea, one of those. Sweet! With his navigation system, we make it to the moraccan restaurant he chose...not quite what I expected but a cool surprise. We find parking, open the door to the restaurant where I hear him say "oh, I should warn you, they have belly dancers here". Crap...I am NOT getting up and belly dancing. I told him since it was his pick, he'd have to belly dance if we were picked on. Ha! Dinner was amazing...lots of food, some of the courses shared and in case you aren't familiar with moroccan food, you eat with your hands and they give you bread to use as your "utensil". It was fun! But I admit...I made him be the guinea pig with the courses...classic "you try first" manuever. Hey, I wasn't entirely sure what I was eating half the time. We'd make guesses and then ask after. Yea, we're totally smart! There was a point during the meal where my back was bugging the bejezus outta me cuz, well, I have a bad back and we're sitting on benches eating off of a table that is the height of my knee. He noticed, reached across me and pulled a huge pillow behind me to I could have some sort of lumbar support. I thought that was nice...realizing I wasn't entirely comfortable and trying to help me out some. So after a three hour dinner, we head to a nearby bar for a nightcap, talk, drink and then head home. And despite an expensive date, lots of wine and a late night, he dropped me off at the door with nothing more than a kiss on the cheek and a big hug. Awesome...I hate being "attacked" after the first date. Just hope this isn't prolonging some really bad kiss action that may freak me out. Seriously, Guy #3 has traumatized me!
So Mr. D is cool. Once I get past the "he is SO outta my league" crap...yea, I know I should not be thinking that way and I deserve great things, etc...I've been lectured by 5 people already...it has been semi pounded into my head! Ok...what was I saying? Oh yea, so once I get past the fact he's lived everywhere, makes a lot more money than I do, lives in what I am sure is a much nicer and much bigger apartment than I do and drives a sweet car, I realize he's just a guy that likes to play xbox, play basketball, watch sports games, croon to old Elvis and Sinatra songs (he's got a singing voice that melts!), play with his "toy" (his car people, sheesh! Get your mind outta the gutter!) and watch "boy" movies (opposite of chick flicks).
Second Date is Wednesday night...hopefully I don't have any brain farts and can keep the "witty and cute" game face going. Details to follow...