So it is Friday (Woo hoo!) and I feel that I should throw something fun on this bad boy (girl does not sound as cool) blog. While experiencing another bout of insomnia last night (which has plagged me for the past year) I was thinking about my blog. How much I love my blog. "Hello there my pretty little pet. I love you. And then I stroke it, and I pet it, and I massage it. Hehe I love it, I love my naughty little pet. You're naughty!..." (Think Tommy, played by Chris Farley, in Tommy Boy and re-read that). Ok, ANYWAYS. . . see what happens to my mind on a Friday when I am severely lacking sleep and excited for the weekend?
Rewind! Ok, my point here is: for the past couple of days I have had the IMMENSE pleasure of boy bashing, but now I need to be fair. "T. . . are you so perfect that you have never done something douche-worthy?!" Ha! Of course I have! And I am always the first to admit my own mishaps. Let's begin.
First was the time that I simply could not hide my disappointment when I was expecting my knight in shining armor waiting for me at the palace doors of Marcus, but found the joker showed up in his place instead. "Who are you and where is the prince that claimed he was nice looking and never got complaints?!" Lesson learned number 6: No more blind dates. I suck at lying and I suck even more at hiding the look of extreme disappointment on my face. I am not a 'blind date' kind of girl I have found. Poor guy. He even had the balls to call me out on it. Talk about the walk of shame.
Next there was that whole door incident with The Model. I have to admit. . . I may have laughed about it (but hold up... I laugh when I get nervous too!) and I may have told him that that is why he needed to get a new car with "normal" doors.
And here is the red cherry on the gloriously fattening sundae:
This was on my third date with Lawyer. Should you know Lawyer you are wondering? No, you should not because I have not mentioned him yet. Lawyer was one of the good dates that I have been on. Numerous good dates that is. He was an eight and nine kind of guy. Smart, sweet, successful, good looking, etc. In fact, Lawyer and I are still on good terms and I am hoping to keep it that way. Why we are not 'dating' at the present time is something I care not to publicly go into (sorry peeps!). Maybe I should include some of the good dates I have been on... maybe. I will revisit that in the future. Ok, back to the story.
So third date. We went to an adorable restaurant that mainly focused their attention on small and often local wineries. You could purchase of bottle of the wine with dinner and then buy some bottles to take home if you were hooked. So, the conversation was going wonderfully, the food was excellent, and the first (note: first) bottle of wine was going down smoothly. We were having such a gay ol' time that we decided to continue our date with a cheese sampling and another bottle of wine at their festive bar! I would like to take the time to note here that while I may be a woman and on the smaller side of the weight and height spectrum I have an immeasurable tolerance for alcohol. Thank you Dating 101 and How to get through a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad date. So for me to agree to a second bottle of wine was nothin'!
At this point we are rearing to go and want to continue with this fabulous evening. I had received a text from some mutual friends of mine and Lawyer's who were also out and we all decided to meet up. Here is where I learn my lesson number 7: Yes, T, you can hold an absorbant amount of alcohol, but you suck at mixing it up and never, ever, ever, ever end your evening with vodka (unless you have been sticking to it all night). So as you can guess, one ketel one and tonic in and my evening turns to mush. I do remember it all once my friends are oh-so-willing enough to help me recall the memories I lost in my drunken haze. Let's start at the end and work our way forward.
I wake up the following morning to Lawyer quietly saying my name and rubbing my back. The scene looks like this: I am sprawled out, fully clothed (jewelry, make up, belt and all still in tact. For those of you that know me well... I NEVER go to bed with my make-up and jewelry still on no matter how in the bag I am). I am laying on top of Lawyer's pristine white comforter wondering where I am and what the hell happened. Then it all comes back to me... my black hole of a mind has opened up to let in the sun. Lawyer is sweetly telling me that I am welcome to stay as long as I would like, but that he does have company coming over for breakfast before attending a basketball game (of which I had so desperately wanted to attend had there of been an extra ticket). He did not want me to feel uncomfortable walking out of his bedroom into a room full of strangers (i.e. in drunken "T" terms: You look like shit and should probably either sleep this off until we all leave for the game oooooor see if you cannot manage getting home safely).
How did I even make it into his bed? Oh, I remember quite well (again, once I had help recalling it from my friends it all came back with a sickening punch). I drank my vodka tonic and then I proceeded to finish off my girlfriend's gin and tonic with the help of another friend there. There were pictures to prove this. I did not remember any pictures until I saw my drunk ass tagged in them on my facebook page the next day. I sat there quizitively thinking "When the hell was this?!" Oh. Yeeeeaah. Well then. Seems that after refusing to give a guy back an ID he found on the floor (which I found the next day in my back pocket) that he planned on randomly selling as a fake (to which I called up my friend who happily recalled the story for me. It seems I am still a demanding, goodie two shoes when drunk) (Note: I did take the initiative to mail the ID back the following Monday to its rightful owner who probably sold it off (again) to be used as a fake regardless). Woah, got off track here, so then after picking up some random scarf on the floor and taking it home (yes, I washed it and still have it ready to go in a bag to the goodwill), Lawyer calmly walked me back to his car. He did not have to carry me thankfully! But I do remember laughing a lot and finding it extremely hard to walk straight, and he may have... ok he did carry my purse for me. Sweet-HEART. I was fine in the car. I was fine when we got into his condo. I drank some water, we talked, I said I was tired and mosied on into his bedroom and crashed on his bed... uninvited. After about 30 seconds on that bed it hit. Thankfully his scrubbing bubbles bathroom was only 7 steps away... and I made it. Red. Red from the red wine was all I remember seeing. Turns out that even in my shamefully drunken state of mind I still remembered my manners because before I got up and sashayed... fine, drunkenly wobbled...back to bed, I cleaned up any trace of wine mayhem from his bathroom. I had rinsed out my mouth, washed my hands and once in bed I am sure I passed out before my head his down pillow of bliss.
Which leads us into me waking up to his gentle mannered self offering up a bottle of water as condolence to my ass-making theatrical debut the night before.
Luckily, I was with a complete gentleman who was very understanding and actually placed blame on himself for suggesting that extra bottle of wine! In all honesty, I think I felt so comfortable with this man and was just going through some emotional hell and confusion those past few weeks that I knew I needed to let loose and he was just the right man to do it around. Do I wish I had toned it down a tad, oh hell yes, but bless his unconditionally forgiving heart!
How we are still friends and he talks to me this day I do not know. If the situation had been reversed and he had been me...talk about seeing someone in a new light! Would *I* have been as forgiving? Meh. Probably because I find that I have been through too much to pass that kind of judgement. And I did clean up after myself at least.
Lawyer, I am glad you did not object!
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