Resolution, Schmesolution

It's so typical. The moment I boldly declare that I am swearing off men for my new year's resolution, I meet one.

Literally. I made the decision, and met one the NEXT DAY.

How is that even possible? Sigh. It's like the universe was waiting for me to give up entirely before dumping a cute guy who shares my love of karaoke into my lap.

I won't bother with details, since everyone who reads this blog has likely already heard all about the hows and whats surrounding the first couple dates, but here we have come to the dreaded third date.

The third date for me, is generally when things go to crap. Basically, I tend to get myself completely worked up when I start seeing someone. This overanalytic excited insanity is no doubt due to my overall lack of dating experience. I've got plenty of experience hooking guys in bars, but highly limited amounts of dating them for reals like. So I tend to lose it.

Ever seen Tommy Boy? I'll modify one of my favorite quotes from that film to explain:

"Let me tell you why I suck at dating. Let's say I meet a guy, let's say he's even remotely interested in dating me. Well then I get all excited! I'm like Jojo the Idiot Circus Girl with a pretty new pet! Now the pet is my possible relationship. Hello there 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 little naughty pet! You're naughty! And then I take my naughty pet and I go GRAAAGHGHGHGGHGHG! (bash bash) Oooooaaaauuugh! I killed it! I KILLED MY PET! And that's when I blow it."

(For hearty laughs and a better understanding for those who haven't seen the film--and really, what's wrong with you that you haven't? It's in my top five!--click here.)

So.

I meet up with him tonight for dreaded date #3. I'll fill you in on my next post with the details of how I'm going to blow it.

Good times!

Son of a Bee Sting, She's Back! And She Voted for WHO?

Good lord people. Fine. FINE. I have been under an unrelenting barrage of whiny bitching ever since I stopped blogging regularly, and I am proving once again why I should never procreate: whiny bitching always works on me.

Fuuuuuuuuuuu, damnit! Update your damn blog!

Me: Oooh, okaaaay.

Mooooom, damnit! Buy me some beers!

Me: But you're only 8!

MOOOOOOm!!!!

Me: Okay fine. But get me some too. And some ciggies.

Anyway.

You'll be pleased to know I've been up to absolutely fuck all since my last update. Exciting! I think Britney's release of her last marble into the Hollywood night air might be the most thilling thing to happen to me lately. But I don't even have that much to report about that, because my last four Us Weeklies are sitting untouched on my kitchen counter. It's weird, I am busy, but probably not too busy to read Hollywood gossip. I just kind of don't give a shit anymore. Weird, huh?

That's not all.

Part One: Politics and Shit

After registering as an Independent, I voted (gag) Democrat in the New Hampshire Primary. I'm not going to say who, though I can imagine you all can figure it out pretty easily just based on which Democrat takes the most shit for not being Demmy enough. And not having enough cock and balls.

Oh, be nice, Kucinich MUST have a cock, you've seen his wife, yes?

So yeah. I did. Sue me. I kind of (gag) like her. And it's not because I felt sorry for her, though I do find the news media in general and Chris Matthews (gag) in particular rather odious, particularly watching him almost give himself a stroke over Hillary's NH victory and then say on TV this morning that the only reason she's even in the Senate is because her husband cheated on her.

Oh, obviously. Clearly. Ass.

Matthews is living proof that it's not just Republicans who are crazy-assed misogynists banging their "balls equal goooood, titties equal baaaaad" drums all over TV.

(I wonder what the misogynists think of Ted Kennedy? He's got balls and titties.)

The biggest problem is that I am crazy about Obama too. I just know that I voted (gag) for Bush twice in part because I found (emphasis on the past tense) him to be such a charming personality. Obama is MR. Personality. He wakes up in the morning and takes a big Personality Dump before railing his hot Personality Wife and having a Personality Hash Browns covered in Eloquent Ketchup for breakfast for chrissake. He jacks off and his sperm sit in the Kleenex in the trash on the damn campaign bus all "What? Even we have more personality than Romney."

But...what else? I don't know. I just think I despise pretty much all the Republicans except Rudy, and I'm starting to despise him too. (Wait...you witness 9/11? Get out!)

Part Two: Where I've Also Given Up Boys

I hate New Year's resolutions. Probably because I usually resolve to finally be a little better about keeping healthy and working out and getting skinny and shit and it never. ever. happens. So fuck it. But this year I made a couple, the biggest being I am giving up boys for at least three months. The Canadian and I decided to just be friends. I hooked up with a male acquaintance of mine a few times over the holidays but that was underwhelming, generally speaking. I'm tired of being "on the prowl," so I am sort of just saying "eff it."

No boys, no sex, no making out drunkenly in the corner of the bar, no going back to guys I've already hooked up with because they won't add to my "list." Nothing. For three months. It's been 9 days.....(shakes). What? No, my hand's not shaking. That's just because I need a cigarette.

What?

TV!!! Noooooooo!

Pretty much, TV is done. I just watched the last episode of Gossip Girl, which every one of you should be watching, damnit, because it's probably the best thing I've ever seen on TV. I want a Blair Waldorf of my very own. Sniffle.

Now sure, we've got American Idol. But I don't watch American Idol during the auditions rounds, because I'm the person who has to turn the volume down or change the channel whenever anyone is making an ass of themselves. It's why I can't watch Tyra Banks' talk show. So I can't watch the auditions which means I have nothing at all to watch until this damn strike is over. "Lost" hardly counts because that's only one show, and eight episodes will fly by like nothing. Sigh.

What am I supposed to do? Read a book?

Other Obligatory Updates:

The holidays--meh. Kind of the usual. I drank a ton, ate my weight in sugar and lard, gained approximately ten pounds to go along with the 15 I gained before that (sigh).

BUT--I did get a Wii. My love for the Wii is insane. I've played every single day. I humiliate the computer in straight sets every time I play tennis and I boxed against Jesus and totally owned his ass. My right elbow always kind of throbs, I wonder if I get carpal tunnel from too much Wii if I could still stay home from work? Hmmm...

I also wonder if I can tell my doctor the next time they inevitably bitch at me about my weight that my Wii fitness age is 27! That's a year younger than I am now. Hmph. In your face Dr. "Your Cholesterol is approaching the high side."

What else?

Work is good...I was contemplating moving to Boston but now probably will be sticking round Manch Vegas for a while longer. And getting a roommate. Partially to save money and partially so I'll have someone for my second Wii controller, because the cats aren't really getting into it. Or growing thumbs at the rate which I'd like.

That's about it y'all. I'm sure I'll have another update before spring, but god knows this small taste will have you all pissing and moaning at me like you've all got your damn collective periods, so it will likely be sooner than later.

Peace.