Go Bulldogs

When I was a freshman in high school, I was dating the sweetest guy. He always told me I was pretty even when I wasn't, he came over and hung out with me and my family, and he even wanted to kiss me when I had/he gave me mono. He gave me flowers for my birthday and I broke up with him two days later. 


I felt liberated. That Saturday morning, I woke up feeling on top of the freaking world. I called in a breakfast taco to Storm's and when I drove up to the window to pay for it, the guy told me it was on the house. When I returned home and was stuffing face with said taco, a senior football player called our house to talk to me. Not my hot older sister. Me. I was elated. I was free. 


For some reason today I remembered all this and felt that exact same way. Only it was my own dumbass which I was freeing myself of. It takes a jolt sometimes but then you wake up and realize you're a geek, just like your high school boyfriend who ogled you during band practice and pulled out your chair for you and sat at your table during lunch even though it was filled with fourteen year old girls who talked about fly-away cheer skirts and hair options for prom. 


Why is it that people run away from those who desire them? My mother used to joke: "Don't buy any of my daughters roses! She will break your heart." (Incidentally, my sister was dating a lovely young man who got her flowers for her birthday that same year and she broke up with him shortly thereafter, also. And then a few weeks down the road, punched him in the face for dating someone else. Who raised these kids?)


Of course, I wanted to date the big muscly guy who was on the weight-lifting team and was a running back and treated me like doo-doo. He was nice enough sometimes but mostly just called other girls at night and hooked up with my friends behind my back. That was fuuuun. Remember high school?


I eventually got back together with Nice Guy. He continued to worship me and I continued to allow it. We went to Europe on a school trip that summer and he was so far up my butt I would not speak to him for a solid three days. He had all these romantic notions for us in Europe and I could not look him in the face without choking on disgust. And he was my bus partner. I slipped to the back of the bus and hung out with the weird kid for the rest of the trip.


I dated the Weird Kid for four years after high school. 

The Weird Kid. Complete with head injuries and facial discolorations.

Well... Nice Guy was weird too.

My dear friend, Jake.

Kaley and me (lanky one) really working our Doc Martens. And Weight Lifter makes an appearance! (left)

Bryan Parker, top left. Jake, the afro next to him. Weight Lifter, front row second from right.

Many stories here. 

(Photos stolen from Kyle's Facebook. Kyle, front right. Thanks, Kyle.)

Me (lanky, weird, bad hair) and sister (blonde, hot, little mermaid) and dates at prom.

Oh. There she is again. Just so you really get the idea.

Both mine and sister's first car. Jake drove a white '66.

And both of my beautiful sisters. Just being us.

These dudes, man...

Last night I ran over from work to the convenience store to buy some wine really quickly before midnight. It was 11:59 and there were about four people milling around the counter, but I held my wine up to the clerk with a hopeful/sad look and he invited that the other patrons might let me cut, which they did. I only had one glass of it at home last night and today it exploded all over my kitchen counters, cabinets and drawers, sitting there for a good bit while I was napping and the roommates were away so that it had time to really sink into the porous wood countertops. It occurs to me now this must be karma. Although I can't really say that I did anything wrong concerning the wine, although it was called "Santa Cristina" which can't be good. 


Today, it rained really hard in Austin for a good while and it happens that I work in a low-lying area right by the creek and the water came up hard and fast. While I have said in the past that I am not afraid of anything much, I realize now that was a big fat lie. I am extremely fearful of high rising waters. I have had many a dream that I drive my old blue Mustang straight into the Leon River. I always am able to get out but in real life, that shit is not okay with me. I think this hails back to childhood when we lived in a veritable hole in Hamilton County, by a creek, and when it would rain, it would flood almost certainly. Not only would our house flood, but we would be trapped in by the creek with no where to go. This is what happened tonight at The Shoal Creek Saloon. The creek came out of it's bed and came at the restaurant, but La Policia were blocking the road from all sides, making it impossible the leave. I tried to remain calm but I plumb freaked out. I thought I was going to have an anxiety attack.


Get home to a new bottle of wine. And then a text. What's this? A text from a strange number? Who is it? A DUDE. At one AM? What is with these bros? Who the fuck does this guy think he is? Its some chump from like eight months ago who I danced with casually, friendly-like in a bar and thought he was cute, gave him my number and I am repaid with a one AM text? He's all "whatchu up to tonight?" What the shit. 


Its these dudes, man. These dudes in this town. They won't call you up on the phone. They don't take you on dates. They don't know how to properly communicate at all. I dated a guy last year who when I would bring up important questions he didn't want to answer (over text, of course, he wouldn't answer my phone calls) he would send me a cute photo of his dog, or a hilarious internet meme or some such shit. 


Me: Do you want to go with me to Hamilton to meet my family? 
Exstupidboyfriend: (picture of dog)


And so it continues. I have since encountered a male who when he does not want to hang out with me anymore, instead of saying this, tells me he likes men. 


Me: What are you doing tonight?
Stupid Guy: I think I like penis. 
Me: Okay, cool. 


Of course, we all know this fellow does not like men, he just does not want to talk to me, a smart, funny, pretty, tall, tan woman who likes him.

Amirite?

Anywho, I wanna know who these Dude Bros think they are. Texting me at one o'clock in the morning is so distasteful. And especially when I don't even know who you are. Geez Louise, you guys. Let's have some couth, mk? 

Okay, I'm off my high horse. 

You know what? No, I'm not. This is going to continue. I have a hell of a lot of good stories about how dumb men are and I think I'm gonna keep it up. 

Coming soon: Boyfriend takes Brynnan to strip club with seven of his Bros! Boyfriend talks to Old Friend the duration of the night! Old Friend is a stripper!