My Life is a Romantic Comedy

Remember Sam? Remember how I said it was totally platonic? Remember when my life was simple? Remember when I WASN'T AN IDIOT?!?!?

Remember?!?

I DO!

Then one night my Platonic Feelings, my Sobriety, and my Inhibitions peaced out, left me to fend for myself and chaos ensued.

Let's rewind a little bit, shall we?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About two weeks after my last post, I suddenly had the sinking feeling that my feelings for Sam were no longer platonic. It hit me out of the blue when he was leaning over to grab something on the other side of the table and I caught a whiff of his cologne. I have always been a HUGE sucker for Man Scent, but I was able to keep my shit together long enough to run to my bathroom, look myself in the mirror and scream, "What!! Are you fucking stupid?!?!?" After that, the night continued on uneventfully and I chalked it up to being in desperate need for some manly affection and moved on.

Then the following night as Sam was sitting next to my sister checking out something on her laptop, I looked up from my magazine and was suddenly overtaken by the urge to kiss along his jawline. Once again I excused myself and screamed into my pillow for a good five minutes.


*PAUSE*

I know you're beginning to wonder why I was so doggedly resisting these feelings. There was a VERY good reason. A reason I wasn't ready to admit to myself. A reason I couldn't overlook because it could have meant possibly hurting someone I care more about than any other person on this planet.

*PLAY*

After the screaming, I laced up my gym shoes and decided to get a little physical exercise while I contemplated all I had been feeling. As I was leaving, I heard these words:

"Hey Cass! I'll go with you. I haven't gotten any physical activity at all today!"

*PAUSE*

This is where Smart Cass would have said, "That's okay Sam. I'll go by myself. I need the solitude."

But the script went something like this instead:

"Sure! Sounds good."

From then on, Sam and I got together everyday to take nightly walks and chit chat about life. The entire time all this was going on I realized I was playing with fire. I was WELL aware of the fact that Third Degree Burns were really the only possible outcome. And yet, I continued to walk right into the blaze.

*PAUSE*

I am going to take this moment to share a fact with you. I have ALWAYS been better friends with guys than girls. I get guys. We jive well. Their simpler, more compartmentalized way of thinking appeals to me and we communicate easily with each other. What am I trying to say? I very, VERY quickly became Sam's closest friend and confidant.

Another fun fact? I also happen to be EXTREMELY intuitive......almost to the point of clairvoyance! Just keep those facts tucked away...they'll come in handy later.


*MEANWHILE, BACK ON THE RANCH*

This past Wednesday after Sam and I finished our walk, he invited me along to have some beers with his friends. I agreed and off we went. (Hear that??? That's the sound of Sobriety and Inhibitions packing their bags!)

Fast forward past my 4 beers and his 3 straight vodkas and you'll find us stumbling up to my front door.

"Cass, mind if I come in for a bit? I can't drive right now."

"Sure! Sounds good." (Sound familiar????)

"Cool, thanks."

We headed to the kitchen table where I set us up with some water.

"You know Cass, the only reason I'm going to be able to say this is because I drank too much tonight, but here it goes. I think I'm attracted to someone I really shouldn't be. I mean...I don't know what she'll think about the whole thing. She's such a good friend. I love the way she makes me feel! She gets me! And seriously Cass, I haven't been sexually attracted to her the entire time I've known her...until recently. All of sudden I just saw her differently and I realized I want to be WITH her! Cass....I think I could be in love with this girl.....Aren't you going to ask who it is?"

"I already know. You're attracted to my sister."

"How do you know that?!?!? I just realized it this morning!"

"Sam, I've been watching you watch her for the past three months. Your face gives you away. Don't play poker by the way...you'd suck."

"Wow. So?? What do you think?"

"Well, I've been dropping hints with her for weeks now and I know without a doubt where she stands."

"Oh. Okay, tell me how bad it is. Truthfully. I'm drunk....it's won't hurt as much."

"Truthfully, she's not interested. She thinks you two are TOO similar and she just doesn't see you that way. She also loves your friendship too much to risk being anything more."

"Oh. I kind of thought so."

"She's also very, very young. You two are at different stages in life. I think you'd be better off looking somewhere else for a relationship."

"Yeah, I guess. I'm really ready to be in a relationship that may not end."

*FAST FORWARD OVER MORE TALKING*

"Look Sam, I don't mind continuing to talk about this but I have GOT to lay down before I fall off my chair."

"Okay. Here. Lay down on the couch."

"Great. So where were we? Oh right, you want to marry my sister. What else do you want to know?"

"Nothing. Actually, I'm done talking about that. Tell me about YOUR life."

*FAST FORWARD*
After talking for over four hours, he's now reclined in the couch and I have my head in his lap so he can scratch my head while we talk. (I know!! FIRE!! Danger, danger Will Robinson! I realize this...trust me.) Suddenly Sam decides to utter THESE words:

"Huh. Maybe I fell for the wrong girl."

At that point he leaned over and kissed me. And we kissed for a good long time. And it was great. And we both really liked it. And it felt right.....totally natural and comfortable.

Then he looked at me and said,

"What the hell am I doing? I'm so sorry. I've got to go. I'll text you tomorrow."

He left after that and we've been texting and acting as if everything is totally cool. We hang out nearly everyday and talk about everything under the sun. He still has feelings for my sister and can't seem to get past them so he's not really interested in pursuing anything. I still have questions about what exactly I'm looking for and what I want right now so I'm not really wanting things to go any further either. For now we're going to throw a table cloth over that elephant in the room and just use it as an end table. Truthfully, that's all either of us have the mental and emotional capacity to do right now.

So where does that leave me??? Well, right here. Blogging. While I wish things had happened a LITTLE differently, I'm okay with just waiting this whole thing out. I think...

Season Two, Episode 1

So how did SMF and I finally end it??? Not easily that's for sure! (But when are those things ever EASY?!??!?)

So, for entertainment's sake I'm going to provide a timeline that should vaguely recreate my Achy Breaky Heart's Journey to Healing....sort of.

Day 1: Sob. Sob sob sob. Google "nooses" and "proper method of tying."

Day 2: SOB SOB SOB OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO DIE. BABY SIS, TIE ME A NOOSE.

Day 3 - Day 10: Etc.

Day 11: Um, fuck this. Kind of. But, additionally: SOB.

Day 12: Ooo, love those shoes! You know, mourning is...boring, a little. Hmm.

Day 13: Actually? Fuck this hard. No more mourning! I am buying me some lady shoes!

Day 14: NO SERIOUSLY. YOU GUYS, KNOW WHAT. I HAVE MADE A COMMAND DECISION HERE. NO MORE MOURNING. I MEAN IT THIS TIME.

Day 15: YEAH.

Day 16-18: Yeeeaaaah.

(sob.)

Day 19: NO THAT IS RIGHT. FUCK THIS AGAIN. I hereby decide that from now on, ALL I WANT is to be happy. It is time for a shift in perspective! Shift shift shift! I am going to just be happy, with a minimum of sobbing, and a maximum of new shoes. HA. That is called "having goals."

Day 20: Here I am, minding my own business and enjoying my newly shifted perspective! Vegging while reading emails when I come across an email from SMF. Sobbing ensues.

Day 21: What does he MEAN he MIGHT have made a mistake?!?!?!? What a #$@#%!! Baby Sis, come here and help me write an email response that doesn't make me sound clingy and sobby.

Day 21, Part II: OMG!!! Baby Sis, he responded!! Quick! Open it....tell me what it says. Hang on! Don't! But maybe...yes, go ahead. Wait! We have Ben & Jerry's right?

WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE SAID IT WAS A DRUNK EMAIL?!?!?!?!? Who does that??!?!?!? SOB!

Day 22 - Day 28: ((insert regression here)) Oh, and...SOB!

Day 29 - Day 40: Alright! Here we are, Baby Sis! At the gym! Executing plan "Fuck You SMF! Look, I'm Still Hot! And I'll Prove It When I Shed These 10 Extra Ben & Jerry's Pounds!"

Day 41 - 50: Okay, enough with the gym. I'm moving on! Let the shoe shopping and the parade of hot successful men beating down my door commence!

So here I am, Day Eleventy Billion, still waiting for the Hot Parade to start. Although, I'm not really all that enthusiastic to hit the dating scene.

I'm finally enjoying singledom!!! For the first time in FIVE years I do NOT have to worry about someone else's feelings or needs!! I can go to bed without having a long, drawn out tucking in phone call. I can disappear to the Library for hours on end (did I mention I'm unemployed again?) and have no one pester me with text messages. I love that when I DO occasionally make eyes at the hottie behind the S*Bux counter I don't have to feel guilty. And when a guy at the local brewery tells me I have a cute smile, I can flirt shamelessly and ENJOY IT!

As far as blogging is concerned, I think it took me so long to make it back here because I had lived a certain life here for all of you and somehow I thought it was going to be different without SMF in it. Like, I wouldn't have anything funny or valuable to write about without him in my life.

And all of my stewing and self-examination had finally shown me that was how I had been LIVING my life as well! My self-worth had slowly been determined by how much he cared about me. And that is never a good place to be. So, things had to change....and boy did they!

So now, I live in IL and SMF has moved out to Norfolk, VA. Things ended on good terms and for no REAL reason other than the fact that both of us were looking for different things. We were perfect for one another during a very specific time in our lives. And now, we were no longer those same people....in fact, we were hindering each other's personal growth. We decided that we both wanted the other person to be happier than we were and therefore we both needed to go our separate ways in search of that happiness.

And now I'm back to living my life how I see fit. Everyday things seem a little brighter and my future is not so uncertain. I have plans to start at the local community college in the summer and I want to finish my degree in 18 months.

Things have certainly changed a lot since the last time we tuned in but I believe Season 2 is going to be infinitely better than last season. New plot lines, new characters and OF COURSE the ensuing drama when I finally DO decide to pursue the hotties.

Check ya later friends,
~Cass

My Lame Excuse of An Update

THE INTERNAL WORKINGS OF THE SASS’S BRAIN

Left Brain of Cassie Blaine: Holy potatoes!!! I can’t believe how long it has been since I updated all of my readers regarding my life. I must do that! I must write something NOW NOW NOW.

Right Brain of Cassie Blaine: Oh, hush, mister practical. You know you can’t force the creative process. Just calm down, and soon, we will hear the sweet song of the muse! She will give us our subject, and then she will take us by the hand, and lead us down a path lined with butterflies and ice cream cones.

Left Brain: …Ooookay. Except we don’t have hands.

Right Brain: I am speaking figuratively, Left Brain. You need to think outside the box.

Left Brain: Or, you know, I could ignore your irritating box-talk, and just write something already--which is what I am going to do. I am putting it on my To-Do List right now. See? It is going right here under "Find Full-Time Job Because We Are Not Attending School in the Fall". Let's see....we'll follow that with “Find Apartment in New East Coast Location We Are Moving To" And to round it out, we'll add "Do Laundry or Tomorrow You Have to RECYCLE Your Underwear".

Right Brain: But if you just write any old thing in a blog it won't be sparkly! We shouldn't write now. I think we should sing a song, and then make potholders covered in unicorn glitter.

Left brain: Oh, for the love of GOD, woman, this is a blog. After all this time, it doesn’t need to be beautiful...it just needs to be “not blank.” That is really the only requirement for today: “Not blank.”

Right Brain: You know, when you say things like that, a fairy dies. She just falls down dead.

Left Brain: No fairies die…

Right Brain: FALLS DOWN DEAD--SPLAT. Like that. Because of you.

Left Brain: *Sigh* Oh, we should also get some lunch. I have those healthy leftovers from dinner the other day…

Right Brain: COOKIE DOUGH.

Left Brain: Or the cafeteria has a spectacular salad ba---

Right Brain: COOKIE DOUGH! COOKIE DOUGH! COOKIE DOUGH!

Left Brain: Holy potatoes, FINE! We will have COOKIE DOUGH for lunch.

Right Brain: (and potato chips.)

Left Brain: AND POTATO CHIPS. Okay. Then we work.

Right Brain: Noooo, then we daydream!

Left Brain: We don’t have time to daydream. We have to write! Write, write, write.

Right Brain: Hey! Lefty! Check out that hot guy over there!!! WOW!

Left Brain: WHERE?!?

Right Brain: Made you look! You know what? Sometimes I wish I were Queen of the World. Then they would bring me all hot male actors on big platters. I could have a buffet of glistening man-entrees! Why doesn’t anyone ever bring me a man on a plate? I’ve been good!

Left Brain: I…what in the world are you talking about?

Right Brain: Do you think Santa could bring me men on plates?

Left Brain: No. I don’t. And we have to blog now. We should blog about…

Right Brain: Men on plates! And Santa.

Left Brain: NO. Let’s write about how much work we’ve been doing while being a live-in nanny this---

Right Brain: Oh, snore. We are NOT going to piss and moan about our workload. That's so boring, plus you do that all the time.

Left Brain: Well, all you’ve come up with is “Men on Plates” and "cookie dough with potato chips for lunch".

Right Brain: And Santa!

Left Brain: Yes. Exactly. Let us not forget Santa. You are making my point for me, thank you.

Right Brain: Hey, Captain Boring! Wanna know what I really like? That song from Friends.

Left Brain: No, you don’t.

Right Brain: Oh, indeed I DO. And I shall start singing it right now, until you agree to not blog about how busy you are.

Left Brain: Oh, please…please, don’t do that.

Right Brain: So no one told you life was gonna be this way CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!

Left Brain: La, la, la, la! I can't hear you!!!!!

Right Brain: Your job's a joke, you're broke, your love life's D.O.AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Left Brain: JESUS, MARY AND JOSPEH! Will you PLEASE SHUT UP?!?

Right Brain: (humming).

Left Brain: Great, thank you.Now I’m singing it. I wonder if it is possible to plan a stroke. To plan a stroke that only affects the RIGHT SIDE OF ONE’S BRAIN.

Right Brain: Oh, let’s not fight. Let’s cuddle.

Left Brain: I don’t WANT to cuddle. I WANT to update the blog, find a full-time job, find a place to live, baby-sit the kids and then do some laundry.... OF MY OWN!

Right Brain: Oooo! Oooo! Maybe if we go to SMF's apartment he'll do our laundry...dressed only in his boxers! That could be fun!

Left Brain: Ugh. NO! I have things to do.....but I DO need to do laundry. Plus, we'd get to cross something off the To-Do List. You know how much I like doing that...

Right Brain: Exactly!!! Then after the shower we can have him get on a big platter and....

Left Brain: STOP IT!!!! I'm not going to his place. We have WAAAAAAAAAAAY too much to do. We certainly do not have time to daydream about SMF on a platter....

Right Brain: Fine, be that way. How 'bout we just go over there and canoodle with SMF?

Left Brain: …well, he does need some canoodling.

Right Brain: And he’s just sitting there all snuggly, wuggly looking....

Left Brain: I HATE YOU.

Right Brain: Do not. I sparkle!

Left Brain: (sob.)

Right Brain: Oh, come on now! Come on, what do you want to do? Do you want to update the blog? Will that make you happy?

Left Brain: No.

Right Brain: Do you want to daydream about men on platters?

Left Brain: NO!

Right Brain: Okay, okay. Do you want to play solitaire?

Left Brain: I…sort of.

Right Brain: Well, okay! THERE WE GO, LITTLE CAMPER. You go play some solitaire, with all that logical, deductive reasoning of yours.

Left Brain: (sniff). Okay. What are you going to do?

Right Brain: Think about Josh Hartnett on a really big platter......doing my laundry in his boxers.

Left Brain: Is that all?

Right Brain: Well, how 'bout I update the blog too?

Left Brain: But…you? Nobody will ever come back! If you write it, they’ll see the innermost workings of Cassie’s brain, and they’ll all run away, screaming.

Right Brain: Oh, hush. It’s better than blank, right?

Left Brain: I mean…yeah. Okay, you’re right. Just…

Right Brain: Yeah?

Left Brain: Promise not to mention the men on platters.

Due to the last entry, SMF believes that he and I use the word “Babe” too much. However I pointed out that although the word may be spelled the same and pronounced the same, it is a TOTALLY different word almost every time we us it.

Such as:


“Babe.” = “Look, I’ll explain this only one more time…” Mainly used by SMF and usually happens afer….

“Ummm…babe?” = “Ummmm…I’m about to ask you something and I might end up looking like Jessica Simpson and her Chicken of the Sea moment, please don’t laugh so hard that you cause injury.” (I use this one more often than I care to admit)

“Babe!” = “If you don’t knock that off right now, I’m going to deck you.” (used by me when SMF decides to work on his NFL tackling skills or used by SMF when I decide to ‘clean out his clogged pores’.)

“Hey Babe.” = Our typical phone greeting

“BABE!” = “No, you don’t look fat. Yes, those shoes match. Yes, yer hair looks great. Yes, I love that dress. Now can we PLEASE, for the love of all things holy, walk out the door so I don’t start eating my own arm?!?” (Look, it’s not MY problem that I want to look good for him! Yeesh.)

“Babe…” = “You exasperate me. You and yer annoying habits irritate the pants off of me. (“No! Not like that! Get off of me!”) Remind me again why we’re dating?” (Used by both of us)

“Baby?????” = “Please, oh please, oh please buy me this!!!!” (Used only by me. Although when SMF hears the ‘Y’ at the end, he suddenly is unable to understand the English language. Jerk.)

“Hey, Babe?” = “Hey, yer closer to whatever it is I’m about to ask you for and I’m too lazy to get up and get it myself.” (Used by both of us, usually when we’re in the throes of a TV induced, comatose state.)

“Awww, babe…” = “Well, shit. I didn’t mean to make you cry! I was just being a testosterone poisoned ass because it’s a day that ends in ‘Y’! I can’t help it!! It just happens. PLEASE DON’T STOP HAVING SEX WITH ME!” (Take a wild guess on who uses this one…)


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
UPDATED TO INCLUDE THIS PSA FROM A CERTAIN SPECIAL MAN FRIEND!!

Alright, folks??? Want to know the SITUATIONS that happen to surround the “Baby?????” usage?

Read these two PRIME examples....then tell me I'm a jerk. (Keep in mind that this is the girl that wants a total of 14 people in our wedding party!!! I'm trying to save money here.)

1) We were at the mall and I got distracted by the Sharper Image displays. I let her out of my sight for ONE SECOND!! (I know! I know! Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.) Next thing I know she's in a jewelry store with a TEN THOUSAND DOLLAR DIAMOND on her finger. She's standing there looking all cute, showin' off her clevage and battin' her eyelashes sayin, “Baby?????” Um, yeah. In that case, NO HABLO INGLES!

2) We're leaving the movie theater and heading towards my car. Suddenly she darts out of my reach and she's standing next to a little red Miata doing the “Baby?????” routine. My only response was to start chattin up the blonde who getting into her car and wouldn't you know it??? Suddenly Cass materializes next to my arm and is murderously quiet while I finish my conversation with the blonde regarding her windshield wipers.


Okay....let it rip. I'm a big jerk.

The One with the Text Messages

Okay, so remember way back when....I mentioned something about SMF and I working on something hilarious. And then it never came? Remember?

Well here it is. Special Man Friend and I spent countless hours reconstructing ACTUAL text message/IM conversations we have had in the last month.

So, as usual, please remember that these conversations ACTUALLY happened. You know what's even better??? These are TEXT MESSAGES people!!! Texting. Over phones. From different locations. (You'll quickly see why we need "Unlimited Text Messages" on every cellular plan.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ME: HI BABY! HI! HI! IT’S MORNING AND I’M TOTALLY STOKED TO SEE YOU!!! HOW WAS THE BACHELOR PARTY??? DID YOU SEE LOTS OF TITTIES?!?!?!?
SMF: why? why? please stop. with the caps. and the exclamation points. why? why so much screaming? i’m so hungover.
ME: Sucks to be you…on so many levels.
SMF: i heard that. (and thanks for not screaming.)




SMF: Wakey wakey baby.
SMF: C’mon sweetie, you need to get up now.
SMF: Babe. Answer me. At least let me know you’re alive.
SMF: Okay, I have now called your cell AND your landline! What’s going on?! Why aren’t you answering me???
SMF: BABE!!! I’M NOT KIDDING! YOU BETTER CALL ME OR I WILL SERIOUSLY CALL 911.
ME: Oh, sorry babe. I was out to breakfast with Mom and I had my phone off. Sorry. Tee hee?!
SMF: babe, yer slowly killing me.




ME: What does ‘Fo Shizzle my Nizzle’ mean?
SMF: HAHAHAHAHA!!!! ‘For Sure my N*gger’
ME: WHAT?!?!?!?!? Why haven’t you ever told me this?!?!?!?
SMF: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! Yer kidding, right?
ME: NO!!! I have been going around spewing racial slurs?!?!?!?! Are you kidding me??? Please tell me yer kidding.
SMF: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!
ME: Oh dear god…I COULD HAVE BEEN SHOT!!!
SMF: When were you ANYWHERE that you were in danger of being shot?
ME: I’m just saying!!! You knew and you didn’t tell me?!? Ugh…how long have people been laughing at me???
SMF: For that?? No idea. Laughing at you on general principle??? Probably your entire life I would guess.
ME: i hate you.




ME: You better have Oreos with you when you get here or I may just have to kill you.
SMF: No “Please”? A "Thank You" maybe? Shoot, I’d settle for that sentence in the form of a question at this point.
ME: Babe…would you please bring your PMS-y girlfriend Oreos so she doesn’t eat your face off in a psychotic hormonal rage?
SMF: In that case…Double Stuff or Regular? How bout one of each?




ME: Where are you?!?!? I’ve been waiting at your place for 15 minutes!
SMF: Sorry. I needed TP for my bunghole. ;-)
ME: Oh SICK!!!! Jesus can HEAR you, ya know!!!
SMF: Yeah, He heard it the moment I thought it. So???
ME: Well, you already made Jesus cry! Why subject ME to your sick and twisted mind too?!?!?!
SMF: Just making sure you still want to get married someday.




SMF: Babe, if we were married and I went to a whore house to get a striptease and a sensual massage, would that be cheating?
ME: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ (That was me until you apparently went F-ING RETARDED!)
SMF: Seriously, is that cheating? (Holy crap! She’s massaging him with her bare boobs!!!)
ME: babe, it’s 3AM…are you serious?
SMF: Yeah! Is THAT part of marriage?? Cuz if yes, get yer ass up! We’re going to Vegas!
ME: No. That’s cheating. What the hell are you doing over there anyway?
SMF: Watching a documentary.
ME: Babe, for the LAST TIME…pornography = NOT documentary!!!
SMF: It’s HBO! Of COURSE it’s a documentary!
ME: Phone = Off! Bye!




ME: It’s possible that I could be sitting here listening to Britney Spears’ “(You Drive Me) Crazy”….willingly….and liking it.
SMF: And it’s possible that I could be sitting here getting a lap dance from a big tittied blonde….willingly….and liking it.
ME: HEY! Only ONE of those activities would result in you being single!
SMF: You sure about that????




SMF: How’s the paper coming? You still awake?
ME: please kill me.
SMF: You CLOSE to being done?
ME: I think I’m closer to my 30th birthday.
SMF: Okay, well I’m going to support you in my sleep. Try and finish soon, okay?
ME: wimp.




ME: Hey babe, what does ‘tig ol’ bitties’ mean?
SMF: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
ME: What?!?!?! Just tell me.
SMF: It’s rappers switching letters around so they can say ‘big ol’ titties’ on the radio.
ME: SHUT UP!!! Really???
SMF: HAHAHAHAHA!!! Why do you think I got so upset when that guy at the bar told you you had nice TIGS?
ME: I don’t know!!! I thought he said ‘eyes’. It was loud in there and I thought you were being your testosterone poisoned self!
SMF: HAHAHAHA!!!! What rock do you LIVE under anyway?
ME: The ‘White Suburbanite’ one apparently!
SMF: You are no longer allowed to listen to rap unsupervised.




ME: Yer butt looks hot when you do that. ;-)
SMF: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! You wouldn’t be saying that if you were actually here.
ME: ??????
SMF: I’m taking a dump.
ME: EWWWWWWWWWWW!!!! My mental eyeballs are scarred for life!!!! Sick.




SMF: Whatcha up to Dingle?
ME: Shoppin’ with Da Gurls!
SMF: My apologies to the mall employees!
ME: Hush yer face! We’re having some lunch to recharge our batteries for bra shopping.
SMF: HOLD UP! How come when you and I go shopping you only ever need to buy tampons or Q-tips?
ME: I don’t know. You’ve never mentioned wanting to go underwear shopping.
SMF: Babe. You have boobs. Boobs need bras. I like boobs. I particularly like YOUR boobs…in bras. I’m not seeing how you don’t get this.




SMF: WHAT THE HELL IS THIS AND WHY IS IT IN MY MEDICINE CABINET?!?!?!?!?
ME: Okay, babe, one more time…typically you text message because you and I are not in the same location and you want to communicate with me. In other words…I CAN’T SEE WHAT YER LOOKING AT!!!!
SMF: This thing…it’s brown, with a metal end…in a Vshape….it’s just plain scary. What is it??
ME: Just send me a pic.
SMF:



SMF: If it goes anywhere near any of my favorite Girl Parts please don’t tell me. I’ll put it in the drawer and pretend I never found it!
ME: HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! That’s a cuticle trimmer. Totally harmless. Except it’s sharp…be careful.
SMF: I’ve established that. OW!
ME: *sigh* Before we have kids I’m having yer swimmers IQ tested.
SMF: Hey now, little Miss "What Does Fo Shizzle My Nizzle Mean"!!!!


Do ya'll see why we're going to need SERIOUS pre-marital counseling?!?!?!? And flexible phone plans??? And alcohol??? Lots of alcohol.


(I know I sort of opened a can of worms with my last post. I'm still working through all the worms. When I get somewhere, I'll update you. *sigh* This is why my therapist's 9 kids will ALL go to Ivy League schools....)

The One with SMF and Cassie Talking to Each Other

Since you heartless bloggers have no emotions and could care less about hearfelt entries (except you Polli!) I'll give you what you came here to get. Pointless Toilet Humor!!!! Woo hoo!

LEGAL NOTICE: These are actual conversations. Any intent to take quotes out of context or misquote certain speakers due to lack of electronic recording devices is entirely purposeful. The author does not consider this libel and therefore sex cannot be witheld as some sort of punishment (that means YOU Special!). In all fairness to the speakers, these conversations have been recorded since March 1, 2007 and oftentimes speakers were unaware notes were being taken. In other words, these are authentic twenty-somethings in their natural habitats.

It is now time for another edition of:

WHAT ROMANCE SOUNDS LIKE

Special Man Friend: I need a rub-down.
ME (The Stunningly Gorgeous, Cassie Blaine) : Oh yeah?
SMF: With oils….
ME: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!! Sorry. I just got this image of you sliding around the room like a greased pig!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
SMF: And you call ME the unromantic one.



ME: Look! My hair is almost long enough to censor explicit materials!
SMF: So many ways to go...so little brain power to figure out which one to choose!
ME: That could be due to the fact that all the blood has drained out of your head because you won't quit staring at my explicit materials.



ME: I wonder if our parents and the church would let us live together because it’s cheaper.
SMF: Probably not.
ME: What if we told them it was a TWO bedroom apartment.
SMF: Try it. See what happens.
ME: So basically the only way we could live together is if we had cool parents and we were heathen.
SMF: Basically.



ME: What should I call your apartment in my blog?
SMF: “The Apartment”?
ME: That's poetic! [pause] Well, what do you call my dorm in your blog?
SMF: The All-Girls Dorm Where the Panties-Only Tickle Fights Start Promptly at 9.
ME: That sounds like a porn title!
SMF: Not really, it’s too long. If it were a porno it would be Nasty Christian Co-eds in Panties or something.
ME: At least that’s more ACCURATE!
SMF: Now there’s some images for the Spank Bank!



SMF: Know why non-Christian guys attend Christian schools?
ME: Why?
SMF: Cuz good Christian girls drop their panties faster than bad secular girls do.



ME: I wonder if anyone has ever used Glamour Shots for their passport photo.
SMF: Is that REALLY what you think about?!?



SMF: How were the Kindergartners today?
ME: Well, we worked on the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.
SMF: Oh, yeah? How’d that go?
ME: Well we got as far as identifying the main characters…Sha-shack, Mee-mack and Abiggo.
SMF: That’s pretty good!
ME: You’ll know I’ve completely lost my mind if I EVER say I want to be a teacher. Don’t ask any questions, just put me in a home and get remarried.



ME: Now really, what do you want your apartment to be called?
SMF: It’s your blog, you make something up.
SMF’S ROOMATE: How about ‘The LoveShack’
SMF: Yeah! Or ‘The Rumba Room’
SMFR: Or ‘The Lair of the Horizontal-Mambo Masters”.
SMF: ‘The Virginity Depository’!!
ME: Alright! So...'Romper Room' it is.



SMF: I really wish you’d change my character name on your blog. It sounds like I’m Special because I have Special Needs or something.
ME: You mean you don’t?!?



ME: Know why good Christian girls attend Christian schools??
SMF: Why?
ME: Because NO ONE drops their panties faster than a good Christian boy!
SMF: I suppose that makes ME exhibit A.



SMF: I’ve decided I don’t like wearing boxers with my scrubs.
ME: Oh yeah?
SMF: Yeah. Things bounce around too much.
ME: Sounds painful.
SMF: It’s not too bad until about the tenth time in a week, you’re standing behind a chair, you turn to do something and it ‘bounces’ into the back of the chair.
ME: [looking up from book] It took you ten times to figure this out?!?



ME: So was that our first real fight?
SMF: No. We’ve had worse ones than that.
ME: Nuh uh! When?!?
SMF: How bout when you were in Maine?
ME: That doesn’t count!! I was too drunk to know we were fighting.
SMF: AH-HA!!! I win! I win! I win! I win!!!!
ME: Win what?!?
SMF: We were fighting about whether or not you were drunk and right now you just admitted you were! I WIN!!!
ME: You lead a sad, sad life.



ME: Help me review for Research Methods.
SMF: Sure. [taking notebook] Name two benefits of conducting survey research.
ME: It’s cheap and easy!
SMF: There’s a ‘Yo Mama’ joke in there somewhere.



ME: [sobbing so hard over the phone I can’t talk]
SMF: Are you PMS-ing?
ME: [screaming into phone] NO!!!!! YOU ASS!!!!
SMF: Are you hormonal?
ME: [laughing hysterically] HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! No!!! I feel fine.
SMF: Are you emotional because I have somehow managed to ruin your day even though I have been asleep and haven’t actually spoken to you for six hours?
ME: [back to sobbing] YES!!!
SMF: Okay. I’m just trying to figure out which part of the script I should skip to.....here we go, “I love you so much. I’m so sorry that I haven’t been able to be there for you. How can I make you feel better?”
ME: Yer lucky yer cute. It’s the only thing that keeps me from suffocating you in your sleep.



SMF: UNROMANTIC?!?!? Fine! Next time I’ll just write you a note about how much I wanna stick it in you!!!
ME: That’s all I’m asking for!!!! My kinda romance...
SMF: [silence] Who ARE you?!?



SMF: The ‘Romper Room’ huh? Wanna go for a little romp right now?? [wink]
ME: Nope, but your right hand looks a little lonely.
SMF: That greedy bastard! We already romped this morning in the shower! [walking into kitchen]
ME: Babe, while you’re in there, would you put “shower shoes” on my shopping list.



ME: By the way, HOW THE HELL DO YOU BANG IT INTO CHAIRS?!?
SMF: It just happens!!!
ME: And you’re worried that your blog name makes you look like you have Special Needs!

Someone Take the 'Creepy Guy Magnet' Off My Back!

A Creepy Guy is someone who…

• Stares, leers, undresses me with his eyes or just generally fixes his on my person for long amounts of time without blinking
  
  Example: I’m not oblivious to guys checking me out, in fact I quite enjoy it. It’s the blatant staring I have a problem with! There is this guy in my Ed Psych class that stares at me. Every class period he deliberately turns his desk around so his profile is towards the front of the room and his ugly mug is pointed full on in my direction. Then he just STARES…sometimes open-mouthed….making a weird breathing sound with the back of his tongue. CREEPY!!!

• Doesn’t speak when spoken to
  
  Example: I had a lab partner that wouldn’t talk to me. I started off with the simple, “How did your weekend go?” but had to move on quickly to the tough stuff like, “Would you please hand me that beaker?” He would talk to every other girl in class except ME! HIS LAB PARTNER!! He eventually dropped the class.

• Smells like feet, B.O., dirty jock straps, urine, or illegal substances
  
  Example: There is this guy that used to be in choir with me that smelled so strongly of BO that I literally got nauseous sitting next to him. It was so bad that I spent a semester and a half doing everything in my power to avoid sitting next to him. Wouldn’t you know?? On spring tour, guess who had to stand next to Mr. Odiferous? Go on, guess. That’s right! Yours truly. And we performed every night…sometimes twice….under hot stage lights….and we sweated like pigs. Yeah, Mom? That’s why I looked green in most of our promotional pictures.

• Has not apparently showered in more than 96 hours
  
  C’mon guys! We’re not homeless. These are white-bred upper middle class guys I’m talking about here. Take a freaking shower.

• Asks weird/probing/personal questions about you before he has even introduced himself
  
  Example: This scene takes place in church just last Sunday with a guy I had never seen in my life.
  
  Creepy Asian Guy: (walking right up with no introduction) You look Asian. Are you Korean?
  ME: Ummm, well…uhh, no. I’m not. **Insert Big Sappy, Welcome to Our Church Smile*
  CAG: You’re not Korean?
  ME: No. **Still keep BSWTOCS plastered to your face!**
  CAG: Oh. (thinks for moment) Are you Chinese?
  ME: (smile falters for a brief second) Um, no. I’m Latina.
  CAG: Oh. So you’re not Asian?
  ME: No. I’m Peruvian and Nicaraguan. 100% Latina. **Re-apply BSWTOCS**
  CAG: Really? I thought you looked Korean.
  ME: I gathered that. **BSWTOCS**

• Sends off vibes that instinctively set you into ‘Fight or Flight’ mentality
  
  Example: I went to a bar a few weeks ago (*gasp* Naughty!) and while I was there I procured a stalker. This guy would not stop following my group of friends around and after we did a few laps around the place just to make sure he was indeed stalking, we paid our tab and hauled our cute butts out of there! I think Jenny actually left smoke trails. (All of us had on clothes that cost us WAAAY too much and therefore did not lend themselves nicely to fighting, otherwise we would have totally stayed and kicked some Creepy butt.)(Hah.)

• Asks me out on dates when I have made it explicitly clear I don’t want to have anything to do with you
  
  Example: This guy Frank at church. (PS: Moms don’t name your kids Frank. That name alone gives me the creeps!)(PPS: If you already have, so sorry. Please ignore that comment.) He met me a handful of times before I left for the summer to go to Maine and be a camp counselor. It would also needs to be noted that before I left I had been dating my boyfriend [a leader in my church] since February and we were together (still are in fact) while this email conversation happened. Here is the literally untouched email. (I’ve erased dates, times and names to protect the Innocent…and the Creepy.)
  
  Cassie:
  
  Question 1: What is your favorite kind of sandwich?
  Question 2: What are all the toppings you will not eat on Pizza, Sanwich's, Hot Dogs, or any other food you can think of?
  Question 3: Would you consider talking to/going out with someone you don't know that well? (Like me for example...)
  
  Frank
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Frank:
  
  
  1. A Rueben sandwich w/o the sauerkraut.
  2. Umm....I don't eat hotdogs and nothing goes on them if I do As for the other foods, I’m not really picky.
  3. I don’t know if you realized this, but I’m dating [Insert Special Male Friend’s Name Here]. We’ve been quietly seeing each other since February. I’m flattered that you asked, but I’m happy with the relationship I’m in currently.
  
  Cassie
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Aww! The Sauerkraut is the Best Part! Otherwise, you're just eating a fatty-meat sandwich!... As for the other thing, do you want to get to know me, or not 'cause you're dating someone else? I also have to get to know people first, but a lot of times people don't think they want to get to know me, and I don't understand why... People who know me tell me all the time that I'm approachable. I even see new people come up to me and ask me questions, or for help, So I see that I am approachable. I guess the one exception is when people are talking about Love, then maybe they don't see me as approachable, even though I am. I don't make fools out of people for asking me things that are of a romantic nature, 'cause I know how that feels. So, just be assured that I am approachable if you want to wait 'til after your sebaticle to even think about getting to know me. Ok? That's all I really wanted, was to let people know that I'm available and that I won't laugh at them for asking if I'm single or whatever. Have I said more than a passing aquaintance should have? I don't know. TTYL.
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  
  Uh huh. Right. Sure. Okay…**slowly backing away** I’m just going to go over here, show my boyfriend the emails and let HIM handle things. CREEPY!!!!
  
  

So as you can see, I seem to have a ‘Creepy Guy Magnet’ stuck to my back. (Please note that my boyfriend a.k.a. Special Man Friend is very normal and would never be confused for creepy! He’s also much bigger and scarier than I am which is why I punked out and let HIM talk to Frank.)