My tongue can be a dagger!

Once up on a time a few weeks ago, I was having a rocky day. On a Saturday, no less. So my day began, I went to to Mrs. Mini Mom's house to watch a football game. So, we were all there chit chatting and catching up. Mr. Mini Dad was out of the town, so it was just the girls. So a knock comes at the door it's the neighbor across the street.

TRADEGY STRUCK

The neighbor lady backed into my beautiful red altima. I was like Son of a B*&%!!! I just had my car in the shop to fix a lousy fog light that cost me a new pair of boots for the fall. I hit a damn bird and the bird shattered my fog light. I think that is totally unfair, move for crying out loud. So I got it fixed because I have vowed to bury this car when it dies. I am keeping it FOREVER or until death do us part. I mean it. So accidents happen, but dang, this lady drove a mack truck, or a Range Rover. It even had a back up beeping system. I mean hello, when it beeps that means to look in your freaking mirror! So the neighbor lady's husband comes over next and apologizes and gives me his insurance. Good.

So the day continues and I go to my hockey game. There is like 3 people there and I know I will be skating my ass off because we are short people...AGAIN. So we take the ice and the team we are playing against might be auditioning for the Dallas Stars. For the love of Pete. I mean, I am no Gordy Howe, but it becomes a little frustrating when you can't even catch the skater who has the puck.

TRADEGY AGAIN STRIKES

I get clocked by what I am sure is yeti. He was huge. I mean I am a tall lady, but this guy was certainly a yeti. See picture below if you need to see a true yeti, or the guy who took me out on the ice.

So the game ends, and I am really in a mood now.

So I walk through the door as a sweaty beast (almost like a sweaty yeti), and Miss Margarita calls.

MM - "I am coming over."

Me - "uh, ok. I am going to get in the shower"

MM - "I haven't heard from my date, and I can't go home."

SIDEBAR - she had scheduled a first date Mr. Motorcycle, he was supposed to call to confirm the plans of meeting at local bar and grill and watching a football game.

So Miss Margarita arrives and we sit and chat. I told her I was having a hella bad day and that the yeti clocked me and I was over the day. So feeling bad for her, I said, hey, let's go get a drink and some food. She agrees. Somehow I get roped into driving my beat up jalopy.

We arrive and order a giant beer (is there really another size?). Mr. Motorcycle texts her that he is now in Fort Worth.

SIDEBAR - Apparently a bike fell on him and he thought he cracked a rib. He went home, took a pain killer and fell asleep. He then apparently woke up and drove to Fort Worth to meet Miss Margarita.

Get ready for the dagger part.

Miss Margarita decides to go meet him. At 10:00 PM at night. I lose it. I mean I really lose it. I raise my voice (which I have been told is more like a a frantic screaming). And then I unleash exactly what I think, with no filter.

It went along these lines:

"Are you fucking stupid? You have to be kidding me! He texts you and you hop to! You are pathetic and have no self-respect for yourself!"

I realize this was rather harsh. But I was really pissed off. I drove us to the house and she left. She texted me later that night to tell me she made it home. SEVEN days pass without us speaking. I needed a few days to cool off, and I needed more than one day and I was certainly not sorry.

So, the following Saturday, I get an email from Miss Margarita and I read it and I was a little bit pyscho looking back. I probably was yelling and swearing and being belligerent. But I honestly can't remember just going off like that. I mean usually I am the girl who stews over the course of a time period before the volcano explodes. But with the day I had, I went off without any hesitation. Clearly we both discussed our points and now everything is fine, with apologies on both sides.

I can say that I am really coming into my 30's. In my 20's, I hated fighting with anyone, parents, friends, boyfriends, anyone. Now, I embrace it. It's part of life. Who goes through life and never has a fight? I used to apologize right away because my stomach would be in knots. Now, I talk through it. I still stew, but I am more likely to confront the fight or say, hey you are out of line rather than just feel like I need to apologize to end the fight.

The End.

1 out of every crazy person gets married on Match.com

Do you like my title? Yea, that should be the real advertising. I am serious. So I signed up for a 3 month subscription to match.com about 1 month ago. Can you just cancel early? I mean seriously. There are some really nice looking men on there, don't get me wrong. I haven't heard from them, but they are there.

So contrary to what people may believe about me, I am a bit shy when it comes to the match.com. I know what you are thinking, this girl? shy? I know, but when it comes to someone rejecting you with the "thanks, but no thanks" comment, you tend to be a little guarded. So I tend to wink, which in all fairness is not really happening at the last couple bars I was to in person. Imagine that? If a guy could just wink at me and I knew he was interested, I would be set. But that would be simply too easy.

So about 3 weeks ago, I throw in the towel and email this dude. It's hard to just start a random conversation. You wouldn't think so, but you really have to carefully think about what you want to say in this very impressionable first email. It's make or break. So I tend to really have trouble with this. I send him an email which I thought was quite witty and he responds. We discuss the latest sports scores and what we like to do. I thought to myself, this is going swimmingly. So I respond with another email saying, oh you are so funny and we probably have the same sense of humor. Chuckle, hee hee. Then being the bold lady I truly am. I decide to send my number. Prepare for HORROR music.
The end. Yep, after our glorious 4 emails together, I send my number and I have never heard from him again. Ahhh such is life as a single spinster. I assure you that if I was more crazy and had more drama and more baggage, I would certainly have a boyfriend by now.

Which brings me to a side story. Once upon a time at work in the break-room, I was having my routine morning coffee. The "gimp" (yea, I know - Pulp Fiction - Bring out the Gimp) who is how I like to refer to the latest employee on light duty was also back there cleaning up something I don't care about. The topic of children arose due to the past work BBQ and the insane amount of children that attended. So Miss Silky hair says, "Chuck (not his real name), how many kids do you have again?" He replies, (ever so non-chalantly) 6. At this point, I nearly fall off my seat and crack my head wide open. I am like 6 freaking kids. How the hell does that happen? The next question gets even better, "you're married, right?" Chuck responds with, and I shit you not, "well I was married three times, but now I am divorced, I have custody of 3 of my kids. They are ages, 1, 2, 7, 8, 10, 12" Did your mind just instantly flash to CHEAPER BY THE DOZEN???

Good lord, he is HALF WAY THERE! Wait for it, wait for it. He is 31! Drum roll please. So without any filter, I burst out with, "you know there are several types of birth control available." I mean good grief, you know I am paying for all those damn kids through my health benefits somehow. And I thought to myself. Do you eat ramen noodles because that is all you can afford since you probably pay out 1 bajillion dollars in CHILD SUPPORT??? How in the hell did this guy get married 3 times? The third wife had to be the craziest. I think by her, he all ready had 4 kids. If that were me, I would have took off running the other direction....at LIGHT SPEED.

This brings me to yet another side conversation that took place after this little break-room incident. Lunch with my dad. Generally this involves a burger, but we got on the topic of this article I had read from CNN, titled, Why men are in trouble, By William J. Bennett, CNN Contributor updated 10:27 AM EST, Tue October 4, 2011. (in case you want to read it). Apparently they had talked about this article on the Today Show (and damn it, I missed it). Anyways, my dad was watching and they asked the question, "What would you prefer, a man with intelligence or a man with manners?" My dad says, "of course Star Jones said, "a man with intelligence." Then my dad says, who would you pick? I said, "a man with manners." There aren't too many anymore. And trust me, there is a difference between a man with manners and a gentleman. But that is for another blog entry. Don't get me wrong, I think intelligence is important, but what happens when they are so smart, and can't remember to open the door for you. The article topic was that women no longer really need men. We are more educated, making good money, heading to church, and women aren't feeling pressured to get married. These people clearly don't live in Texas, because here, they marry you at high school graduation. Anyways, it was interesting.

But the hopeless romantic in me is sad. I always thought I would at least be married at this point. And I know people say it's not what it's cracked up to be, but my parents have been married 39 years. I mean obviously something is working. When my dad calls my mom, her ringtone for him is Hot Stuff. I hope when I get married, that my husband's ringtone for me is "Dirty Diana" by Michael Jackson. Get your head out of the gutter, it's a good song and it has my name in it. Don't hate on the great 80's Michael Jackson. That music is timeless.

Regardless, if I don't get married. I have my Panini maker. And all is good in the world.