I wasn’t bullshitting when I said that I thought it was working.

Turns out though, that all the positive thinking in the world can’t ward off misery… especially when something happens that completely blindsides you. Waking up in the morning and telling myself  ”today is going to be a good day,” isn’t so helpful when a major part of the reason you were planning on having a good day just disapears from your life without a warning.

Only now that I can look back on the last few months, maybe I should have seen it coming. Maybe super-gluing rose colored glasses to my face wasn’t the best idea. Maybe I was so drunk on happiness and rainbows and music (and let’s face it, alcohol) that I didn’t see what was really going on.

It doesn’t really matter at this point.

 I can either continue to sit here with my bag of reeses peices and my glass of cheap pinot grigio with my arms in the air yelling “whhyyyyyy?!?” or I can end this pity party for one right now. I can recognize that I’m still the same independent woman who has never relied on a man for happiness. I can pick back up with where I was a few months ago, when I was growing as a person, on my own. I can recognize the positive that this relatonship has given me…and  that when I’m ready again, I deserve to be with someone who respects me. I can admit that I am attractive and confident and that while I still have a lot of growing to do, I have come so far in the last year.

And that’s exactly what I intend to do.

I know that it’s not going to be easy, but I don’t think it will be that difficult either.  I have so many people in my life who care about me, and I’m ready to embrace their support.

I even woke up this morning with Steve Winwood’s “Back in the High Life” stuck in my brain. I want to write again. More than that- I think I want to wash my hair for the first time since Wednesday. This could be a really good thing for me.

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So yes. It’s a beautiful day outside and I’m ready to go out, put on some Lady Gaga… and live.

Peee essss:

I just recieved a very humorous email from a future version of myself, telling me how much better things are about to get.

And that’s just one more reason that I love my friends.

Happy Labor Day!

It’s so good to hear from you and I truly hope you don’t mind that I’m sharing my response to your email with the world. And by world, of course,  I mean the few people who are still reading after my recent blog- hiatus. You mentioned you enjoyed the blog, and though I know you may have just been being nice, I figured I would use this opportunity to update anyone who wants to hear a summary happening the last 10 years of my life. I really enjoyed your email and I’m  glad to hear you’re doing well. I hope you don’t think it’s rude that I’m not responding much to your own life adventures, but I’ll do that in another correspondence.

TEN YEARS. It’s crazy that it’s been that long, by the way. Let’s see, when we last talked I was deep in the throws of sorority life in college. Although I remained active in my sorority most of my college years, I would definitely say that, for the most part- I wasn’t very “active.” I enjoyed making friends who were very different from myself, and I feel that the people I met in college have allowed me to grow and change in ways that I never imagined.  I was still a dance/theater major back when we last spoke, and that didn’t last very long either-which is one of my major regrets in life thus far. At the time though, it was right to quit. I switched to journalism, then advertising, then Radio/TV/Film, all along picking up a ridiculous amount of English electives, mostly because the professors were the cutest. There was one named Dr. Cox who taught several creative writing classes who I was especially smitten with. I blame my eventual English Composition major on him.

I probably look quite similar to the way I looked in high school, but what you may or may not know is that the majority of the time that we have not spoken I’ve gone through many physical changes. For one, I went through a stage where I was constantly dying my hair. The worst was a Ozzie-Osbourne-esgue bright red tip stage, which I still have an odd affection for. Mostly though, after I quit dancing, I continued on with a diet of primarily cheese, Taco Bueno, Keystone Light and stuffed Tortellini which eventually caused me to gain a few pounds. And by a few pounds, I mean I eventually tipped the scale at 240 lbs. After a few years of being completely content with my status as “the funny girl” and becoming very close to being a contestant on “The Biggest Loser,” I eventually decided it was time to change my ways. I’m not sure I’ll ever be comfortable with my body, but I’m damn sure intent on trying to be as happy with myself as possible.

Along with an ever changing interest in school subjects and a variety body sizes, I gained quite an array of passions and went through many stages over the years. Some have been  fleeting and some have managed to remain (sometimes begrudgingly) as a staple in my life even now. Just to name a few, over the years I’ve been able to describe myself as: A Crossword junkie; an NSYNC fan-gal; A reader of every horror novel ever written; an adderol addict; a raging drunk; a wino; a girl who decopauges every wooden surface in site; a film junkie; a really bad poet; an obsessive journal writer, a scrapbooker; a collector of quotes; a host small comedy radio show; an insomniac; a 6 month obsessionator of writing a tv pilot only to lose the zip drive that it was saved on; a rat owner; a person who will complete any dare;  a person who quickly lost interest in writing a tv pilot once all her hard work was lost; a person who got high and made up ridiculous games; web site developer in the least technical sense possible; a music lover; a person obsessed with watching every comedy show ever made; a dance teacher; a loan officer; an insurance broker; a dreamer; a comedian;  John Cusack’s girlfriend (unbeknownst to him); and of course, a blogger. I could go on forever, but it seems I’ve already accomplished half of that so I’ll stop now.

There are, of course some things that haven’t changed. I still seem to find a way to get myself into the most ridiculous situations, which is an affliction that I have a love/hate relationship with. I’m still loud,yet shy. I still love to be the center of attention yet am extremely private about certain aspects of my life. I still love to meet new people and am a constant student of socialogy. I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, and I’m ok with that.

More than anything, like you- I still have an incredible passion for performance and writing. After I quit dancing and theater, I took up improv comedy, partially because my heroes in life have always been Steve Martin and Robin Williams, and partially because I missed performing and comedy seemed to be the most practical venue for a girl of a bigger size. Although I recently haven’t been overly active in performing, it’s something that I think that I’ll always do in some venue or another. I’m very interested in eventually getting back into theater, giving stand-up a go, and attempting writing for every venue possible. Really I want to try anything once, and you my friend – are a great inspiration in that respect, so thank you for that!

When it comes to romance and all that jazz, I think we’re on the same page, or at least the same chapter. I’ve never really given settling down much of a thought -mostly because I am an incredibly selfish person and want to do so many things in my life, none which (at least at this point of time) remotely involve children, staying in one place for long, or require a ”career” that holds any sort of financial stability. That, and  I hold a tragic combination of romantic ideals. I’ve always been a hopeless romantic, but over the years I’ve gained just enough realism watched enough movies to fear that if I ever find that perfect romance, it will somehow end in tragedy. But I guess that’s the cynic in me talking… Or maybe just my imagination. Either way, I’ve found myself in a long pattern of falling for boys whom I have absolutely no connection with, but who I find are “interesting,” in one way or another. But now though? Who knows.  I guess I’m still hopeful. Maybe they aren’t all douchengoyles afterall.

Which brings me back here to this little neglected place on the interwebs, where for nearly a year now I have been sharing with the world intimate details of my uninteresting life. I’ve recently been taking a much needed blog-break and have been spending a little time living life, catching up with old friends,  and taking chances. I won’t be giving the blog up anytime soon, or ever probably, because more than anything else over the last ten years, this blog has given me a venue to write openly, meet new people, reflect upon my life, and learn more about myself.

I’m really sorry that we lost touch and that my evil roommate never gave me the message about housesitting, but lets (NONE OF YOU) be strangers now!

Thanks for sticking with me through this incredibly long-winded update, and I’ll be talking with all of you soon!

Carissa (slightly less than when I started this blog) Jaded

I have a few “dare” videos in the works, and I  can’t wait to get them up. However, I wasn’t able to get the one I’m working on editing ready  just yet, so instead I’ve decided to give you a video post, for reasons that will become obvious to you. Keep them dares coming though!!! I DARE YOU BYATCH!

So I have decided to share, what some of you may view to be highly offensive story about a dating experience that I had. Please understand that I am in no way intentionally dissing anyone. This tale is more about my specific experience with a man, and things just didn’t happen to work out even though I really liked the guy. We just had a few… issues. I am struggling as to whether or not to even post this, but I have decided that each 100th post should now be slightly non-pc. So hate me if you want, but I really mean no harm by this. I hope you enjoy! I had to make a few editing adjustments, just because the subject matter may be reading this blog. That might make the whole ordeal even more offensive, but… oh well…

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Also, since I just remembered this was my 200th post, please go enter my latest giveaway in honor of my 200th post. It’s only open until April 4th so you better get a move on. Seriously. You could win a really awesome rockin cd, or at least get introduced to a really cool dude.

Dearest Ketchup,

Is Ketchup OK? Or do you prefer Catsup? For now we’ll stick with Ketchup…

I’m not trying to come across like a creepy fan here, but I feel like it’s time I came clean with you about a few things.

I heart cuddling.

 I have been a huge, HUGE fan of yours for a  very very VERY long time, and I think it’s time you understood the extent of my love for you.

Just so you know, I’ve only written a few fan letters in my life. One was to Jonathon Taylor Thomas, one was to Keith Coogan (yes this Keith Coogan) (and it may have been like last year on Myspace) (Because I LOVE him and ”the dishes are done, man”) and one was to Seth Green. I was really fucked up watching Robot Chicken when I wrote the Seth Green one, so I’m not even sure it should count. I haven’t EVEN written John Cusack a fan note yet. Oh I’ve sent him a few ambien induced tweets, but still. What I’m trying to say is, Ketchup, is that you are one of the elite.

We could pick out yummy recipes together.

I’ll be honest with you, it started out as an innocent crush. Growing up, I would casually put you on fish sticks and chicken nuggets. Even now, when the idea of fish sticks pretty much makes me want to hurl, I would probably eat them if there was enough of you smothered on them. I would probably eat anything with enough of you smothered on it. Maybe not snails or poop though. I have to draw the line somewhere.

I could teach you how to dance...

I know part of the appeal may come from the fact that my grandparents never really approved. On Thanksgiving, my cousins and I would have to hide you under the dinner table because they thought it was innapropriate to eat you at the table. I still have to do the same whenever I go out to eat steak dinners, apparantly its even rude to ask for you. But I do every time.

NOM NOM NOM

I’m pretty poor, Ketchup, but  no matter how poor I get- I cannot go without you. I always buy the big bottle, though I’ll take you whatever way I can get you. I especially love the Whataburger **fancy ketchup. If it ever came down to it, I might be willing to hold up a Whataburger to get a hold of you.

ODE TO KETCHUP

I put you on chicken, I put you on beans.

I put you on eggs, I put you on greens.

 I put you on potatoes-fried, mashed and baked,

I put you on sandwiches and on  yummy crab cakes.

 I put you on carrots, I put you on rice-

I bet if I put you on cookies it would even taste nice.

Whether it’s Heinz 57,  Hunts or store-brand

I’ll always put you first, ahead of any man.

Or on my man? That might be fun too…

But even if I did, I’d only be thinking of you.

I could probably go on here forever, but there are some things I want to save for the bedroom kitchen.  I kid. Although, you have may heard that on a recent trip to Uncle Julio’s I told my tamale that I would have sex with it if it had ketchup on it, but I want to take this slow. That’s how much I like you.

That being said, I really hope you’ll get back to me so we can “catch up.”

hahaha

I’m sure you get that all the time. I really do hope you know I’m being genuine and  I’m not sort of tomatHOE.

Ok I’ll stop.

I love you,

CarissaJaded (your biggest fan)

P.S.

I know this might be a little weird for you, but I also love cheese and tabasco sauce so I was thinking  that maybe one of these days… nevermind.

**If you do not know about Whataburger fancy ketchup please send me your address and I will send you one. I’m serious. In fact I’ll do a giveaway. Yeah…. comment here and one of you will get a fancy ketchup in the mail.

**I’m serious about the ketchup, but there will be an ACTUAL giveaway later this week. It’s supercool and I’m really excited about it so stay tuned.

I used to be the kind of girl that watched all sorts of shows. In high school, I had a daily line up of TV that I would “just die” if I missed. Daily, I would leave giant notes on the kitchen table, reminding my father to push record on the VCR at precisely 7:00pm so that I would get to watch “Beverly Hills 90210,” “Party of 5,” (I would have done ANYTHING to be a Salinger) “Friends,” or “Felicity.” I would rush home from dance class to catch up on “Dawson’s Creek” and “Louis and Clark Superman.” Every Tuesday night I was glued to the TV to catch the latest episode  of “Buffy.” I even managed to schedule my classes so that I could be home to watch the daily disaster of a soap that was “Passions.”

It was only recently that I realized that most of my friends still have their TV rituals… and I do not. Oh there are a few shows that I still watch and enjoy when I manage to catch them (usually on TIVO,) but there aren’t any that I would change my schedule around to watch.

Yesterday as I was eating dinner, I sat down to watch the second episode of “Parenthood.” I had managed to catch the first episode (on TIVO) and had really enjoyed it. About five minutes or so into the episode I got up to check my email, and never came back. I thought about it a few times, but finally decided that I would rather watch “Star Trek” for the 14th time than get involved in a TV show. Even as I was clear in my decision, it bugged me. Why wouldn’t I give this perfectly adequate show a chance?

And then it dawned on me. I have developed a relationship pattern with television that is nearly identical to the relationship pattern that I have with men.

When I was young and care free, I fell in love easily. I would watch any old show that came along, and I would watch it with passion. The shows that I watched didn’t have much depth, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they entertained me. Most of the shows that I watched in high school, ironically ended about the same time that I graduated. Either that, or I lost interest when I moved away and didn’t have cable. It was the first time I realized that shows ended. That made sad. I grew up with those programs. I learned from them, both literally and figuratively. Then they were just gone, some without warning, leaving a big empty gap in my life.

Some of the shows that I watched in high school ended up in syndication, which kept my interest for a while until they became redundant. Eventually I quit watching them all together as my taste in television began to change.

I had to try out a few different genres before I really figured out what interested me. There was a time when I was all about the drama. I liked the shows that would leave me with a cliff-hanger, having to wait a full week to see what would happen next. There was a very short amount of time when I really liked the trashy shallowness that reality shows had to offer. For a while,  I was even really taken with educational programming, and stayed glued to TLC and The Animal Planet, for no other reason but because sometimes it feels good to spend time with someone who watching a show that can teach you a little something. Eventually they all bored me.

Then I found myself in a long pattern of falling for the more “quirky” types of shows like “Mr Show” and “Greg the Bunny.” I became obsessed with “Arrested Development,” and  “Freaks and Geeks.” They were the unconventional types of shows that didn’t interest everyone, but I saw that they had something from the beginning. It took me a while, (probably right around the time that Pushing Daisies got canceled) before I realized the fundamental problem with these types of shows. For whatever reason, lack of self-promotion or maybe self confidence -these shows never last. They almost always leave me are canceled within 2 or 3 seasons, leaving me without any sort of closure.

I have finally gotten to the point where I am afraid of falling for a show and investing my time in it. I’m scared that as soon as I do, it will go off the air, leaving me wandering what would have happened next.  Even the shows that that I love that I have been more been more faithful to like “Scrubs” eventually become finicky. I  hear one week that they have been canceled, only to be renewed at the last minute, and eventually they will completely jump the shark. (God Bless you “Scrubs.”)

I think I finally know what I’m looking for. I want the whole package… something that is,  for the most part- thought-provoking, funny, and with just enough drama to keep me interested. The problem is that you actually have to invest a little time into something to know for sure if that’s what you have, and that is down right frightening to me. I know that I will never find a show that I love if I never turn on the TV. I also know that no show is perfect, but there is bound to be a television show out there that would appeal to me long term.

Maybe it’s time that I end this ridiculously long metaphorical post and go watch that second episode of “Parenthood.” Although please believe me when I  tell you that you should read no further into the title of that show. I was talking about boys here, not babies.

I’m not a fan of ending a post with a question, but have you ever felt this way? and how do you people get over this (for lack of better word) jaded-ness?

I hope the year has been good to you. At least most of you. There are a few of you that I hope got audited or something similarly non-life threatening but still a pain in the ass.

I had such an exciting year in 2009, I’m sure I’m not going to be able to fit it all in this newsletter, but since you’re all so curious as to what’s been going on in my ever so eventful life, I’m going to try.

Let’s see. Where to begin.

I started the New Year out last year in Galveston. It was a great time although I closely escaped head injury when I face-planted in the middle of a very nice hotel lobby in front of a wedding reception. Luckily, I came out of it with only a loss of pride and a black eye. We also shot each other with BB guns, which was quite a lot of fun, though not the smartest thing I’ve ever done.

I continued working my low paying job, but  got to spend a lot of time reading about movies and preparing for the 2009 Oscars, at which I was successful at seeing every nominated film. I bet none of you completed such a task.

Near the beginning of the year I had a serious scabies scare. I thought for a few weeks that there were tiny little organisms crawling around in my skin, and I spent many an hour trying to dig and burn them out. Turns out it was all in my brain… but still scary. Scabies (even just the mental kind) are a bitch to get rid of.

Around February I leaned against a door at the top of a flight of stairs, and once again narrowly escaped a massive head injury. I may not have escaped it, but I tell myself I’m fine.

Somewhere around March I decided I was tired of being single and I joined Match.com. While I was asked on several dates, I only met a bunch of losers who had such hobbies as “teaching their cats to use the toilet,” and “learning kling-on,” (which I actually thought was going to be kind of cool, notsomuch. )The most memorable date was when I took a guy to the comedy club that I perform at and ran into some people I hadn’t seen in a while. They proceeded to tell me in front of my date how I looked like I “had lost a whole person,” which I suppose was true, but was also embarrassing.

I quit that shit after a month.

Then I met this  guy at a karaoke bar who turned out to be a swinger.

I quit that shit after an hour.

I met a guy when put up a fake ad on Craigslist saying that I would build professional living room tents and treehouses for hire.

Never even called him back.

Probably my favorite spring night was the night LA and I went to see Joshua Radin and ended up taking the  band out after the show for a good time. The drummer was an excellent kisser,but I’m pretty sure he was on drugs.

There was some other shit too, but I don’t want to excite you too much.

So as you can see I’ve kept a really busy social life.

Hmmm… what else…

Around April I decided to watch the entire Godfather series in one weekend. I thought that was quite an accomplishment. And then the next weekend I watched Lonesome Dove, but I only made it about 2/3rds a way through the movie before I got bored.

Some time last spring my dad and sister let my pet rat out at my family farm because they got tired of taking care of it and thought it deserved to live in the wild… that kinda sucked hairy balls.

The summer is where things really got interesting. I spent most weekend days sitting out at my pool drinking beer and working on my tan. My roommates and I hosted a kick-ass Fourth of July Party which ended with me getting tasered (for fun, not by a cop.)

Hmmm..

In July I started a blog where I got the opportunity to update my friends daily with the exciting details of my life…

hmmmm…

ummm

ok! I know…

For Halloween my friend and I dressed up as “Ghouls Gone Wild” and I narrowly escaped another head injury when a stair skiing incident went awry.

annndddd…

I finally caught up on Dexter season 3 so now I can finally watch season 4… even though LA already told me the twist ending.

hmmmm…

Well, I guess that brings us up to date!

Oh yeah, and last night I backed out of the date with the hot Turkish dude last minute. I know, I know… I still may go out with him next week… He was just way too cheesy, and I think I need to save my dates for people with whom I have more in common with than a love of incense. Instead I stayed home in my pjs with the roomies and watched “All About Steve.”

So yes!! That concludes a year in the life of me. I am so blessed to have so many good friends to share this information with. I hope you have a Merry Christmas and a Wonderful New Year!

Love Always,

Carissa Jaded

And for those of you curious about the tree necklace, you can purchase one here.

My past weekend was absolutely insane,  I was even more of a hurricane than usual. I spent the weekend back in my college town with some of my college friends, which always fares for a great time, but usually leads to my getting balls to the walls drunk and doing at least a few things that would probably cause me to be the subject of a few people’s own blog, and not in a post that make me look good in any way, shape, or form.

After a late Friday night, my friends and I made the mistake of going to eat brunch at a bar, where  one  bloody Mary to “make ourselves feel better” quickly lead to yet another day full of drinking. The whole day was fun, but I have to say my favorite discovery was that of the iphone app where you can Darth-Vador-ize your voice. I spent a good amount of time singing songs from The Little Mermaid and entertaining myself while I’m sure causing more than a few eyes to roll.

I woke up around 5am on Saturday morning to run a marathon.

BAHAHAHAHA!!! That would never happen.

I did go to the White Rock marathon to support my friends who were running the relay and half-marathon portions. I was really excited to get up at five in the morning after 2 days of drinking to go and ride around them around to the exchange areas. That’s how much I love my friends.

BAHAHAHAHAHA!!!  My car was at a shop and I knew the only way I would ever get back to it would be to ride along and have them drop me off on the way back home. Either that or be stranded in Denton for the rest of my life.

It actually ended up being a little fun. I had no idea there would be  people in costumes and live music, and honestly it was fun to see everyone so pumped up. I also found it extremely impressive that people would be willing to actually pay money to put their bodies through such pain. I remember hearing one lady run by and announce “Only 16 more miles to go!!” and I just about passed out from  the thought…

I will use any excuse possible to post a pic of my boyfriend

But I honestly think I’ll give the next one (relay or 5K) a shot even though I’ll be breaking my rule of running only if I have to because I’m being chased, or if I see John Cusack in the distance.

I ended up staying home from work yesterday, and though my sickness may have been inadvertently self-inflicted, there is no way that you could argue that I wasn’t sick. I spent the day watching Lifetime Christmas movies and moaning loudly. I didn’t get much face time with my computer, so I’m yet again a little behind on the reader!

And now for the post its, hosted by the fabulous Supah Mommy. Head over there for loads of other great pot-its!

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Remember when I told you that little fairy tale about my… uh… friend…uh…” Cari,” and the time that she thought a peen was a piece of feces??

Well luckily for you, I have several more stories about Cari and her misfortunes up my sleeve.

I am not sure if I should actually be sharing this story, as the second leading character is a casual reader of this blog and is still a friend of Cari’s… and she has yet to confess this to him. If you are reading this (you know who you are) then I am going to go ahead and apologize on Cari’s behalf… and I really hope you’re not completely disgusted.

______________________________

Once upon a time there was a girl named Cari, who at one point in time was kinda-sorta-long-distance dating a friend of her’s named… let’s call him Sam.

Cari and Sam were still friends, and this particular weekend Cari was going down to H-town to visit her friends for a fun-times reunion.

The first night when Cari got in town began as every night with Sam began- with a vow not to get so drunk that they would be miserable for the rest of the weekend. A vow that was immediately sealed with a “cheers” and a shot of whiskey. And in their usual fashion, that shot was followed by a MANY more beers, several more shots, some conversation about politics, and a few rounds of shooting each other with a BB gun.

At some point in the night one of them got the bright idea to take half an ambien, stay up, and see what might happen.

The next few hours, as you can imagine, were a blur. Cari remembered watching some online comedy videos and…well, that’s about it.

____________________________

Oh yeah, so I guess I should probably tell you that, literally, the exact same thing that I wrote about in another TMI story happened to Cari on this particular trip down to Houston.

The short version: On the trip down to Houston, “Cari” remembered mid-drive that she had left the same tampon in for way over 12 hours. Fearing toxic shock, she then proceeded on taking it out whilst driving, putting it in a paper bag she found in her car, and promptly forgot about the said tampon, and completely forgetting it ever happened until several weeks later.

___________________________

The following morning Cari and Sam woke up feeling a little foggy headed, but all in all, they felt a lot better than they expected. They decided to continue with their weekend as planned, and head to Galveston for a relaxing day at the beach.  Somewhere along the drive Sam had to stop to fill up on gas and beer, and Cari took the opportunity to go to the restroom. She hadn’t thought about her period since the drive down, and was surprised to see that she had started back up a little. Luckily she had a tampon in her purse, so she quickly fixed the problem, no biggie.

It was a perfect day at the beach and everything went smoothly. After the beach, Sam and Cari checked into a hotel room and got ready to go have a nice dinner. Cari put on a dress and Sam put on a pair of khakis… the same khakis that he had been wearing the night before.

It wasn’t until they were in the car, well on their way to dinner that Cari noticed a peculiar stain above the knee on Sam’s pants.

Cari: Dude, you look really nice… but what’s all over your pants?

Sam: What? Ewww I have no idea!!! What is that??

Cari: I dunno, but it looks disgusting!

And it did. It basically looked like a few smears of  nastiness up down his thigh. Imagine eating cheetos, then wiping your fingers down your legs… only instead of orange, this shiz was brown.

Sam: Did I get into a wrestling match with someone in the front yard or somethin? It kinda looks like blood.

Cari: I have no idea… I don’t remember a single thing after taking the ambien! Maybe you spilled dip on it or something…

At that moment Cari had a random brief flash from the night before… in his bed.. kissing…  maybe?

That really wasn’t the type of relationship that they had…  Cari didn’t want to ask what happened as to create an awkward situation, so she decided to brush those thoughts away and change the subject.

Neither the oogey stain or anything that may have happened the night before was brought up again… until they got back to his house the following day and started to unload their  stuff in his room.

As they were unloading their things, Cari noticed Sam stooped over the bed examining the sheet.

Sam: Look! There it is! The same shit that is all over my pants!

Cari went to see what he was looking at, and sure enough… there were a few brownish splotches on the sheet around the foot of his bed.

It was at that point that Cari had a second flashback from her first night in town.

Yes… there was definitely kissing… And maybe a tiny bit more.

A feeling of dread washed over Cari’s body for the million and tenth time in her life.

For that’s when she knew exactly what those spots on his bed and on his pants were.

And she wasn’t about to admit that to Sam.

Cari: Oh yeah… I’m sure that’s dip. Or you know what? I think we may have spilled a cup that had cigarette butts in it!

Cari then changed the subject, and didn’t bring up the stains for the rest of the trip… or ever.

And they all lived happily ever after.

Until now.

Anyway, it really got me to start thinking once again about my own blog, and whether or not I really feel comfortable sharing my thoughts with everyone that I know in “real life.”

Although there are some days that I really wish I had a private blog that I could spill all of my secrets to, I think that I am pretty happy being able to share my most of my secrets to anyone who cares to read.  In fact, it does feel pretty damn good to just put most of that shit out there. I’ve said it before, but sometimes it sucks that I have no idea who knows what about me, but for the most part… you’re eventually gonna find these things out, so I might as well tell you off the bat, right? I have a constant case of word-vom anyway, and within five minutes of being in my company I’m likely to share everything I write here anyways. I can sometimes be a freak, and if you’re gonna judge me- you might as well do it soon.

In fact, sometimes I wish that everyone I knew kept a blog.

It got me thinking about all the people that I have met, that I wished that I could have instantly known everything about them…

For example.

Nearly a year ago,  a friend and I were out for a night of karaoke when I spotted an attractive gentlemen at a booth across the way.

I sat talking to my friend about nonsense, all the while, making crazy eye contact and “bedroom eyes” with said gentleman as he held his own conversation with his own friends (a boy and a girl) at his own booth, that just happened to be in perfect view from my own.

After a while, the “gentleman” (lets call him Corey, because that was his name) came over to my booth and asked if he could sit down.

“Of course,” I said.

We got to talking, and I immediately started really liking this fellow. He was extremely personable and we had a lot in common. (meaning that he too, knew all the words to Meatloaf’s Paradise by the Dashboard Light.)

Eventually, the girl from his booth came over and introduced herself as Jenny. Corey explained that they had been best friends since high school. She seemed nice enough, though a little on the edge- and said that they were about to leave but that my friend and I should accompany them to another karaoke bar nearby. My friend and I didn’t really have anything better to do, (and I practically got on my knees and begged her) so we agreed to go.

We do, and the night starts to turn into a damn romantic comedy. Corey and I sing several songs together, and share  a few kisses at our table not caring that his friends are watching. Eventually, the bar is closing and we reluctantly said our goodbyes.

After we left, Corey and I continue a heated text conversation, and I was down right smitten.

The next morning I woke my friend up and made her listen to all of the details of my late night conversation with Corey, prompting my questions…

“Do you think he’ll call??” “What do you think he meant when he said he doesn’t always know when his free time will come about.” “Did you think that girl was a bit creepy?”

I swear, if I had known his last name, I would have googled that shit.

Corey did call. We talked for a few days, and I thought he seemed like a genuinely nice guy.

Eventually, the conversation came around to my living situation…

Me: “Yeah, I basically live with a bunch of people. Some of them are gay… It’s like a constant party…”

Corey: “Well… my living situation is way more unique than yours…”

Really? Ohholyshitthisisfuckingsarcasticallyawesome.

I prepared myself for him to tell me that he lived with his parents, both sets of grandparents and his 12 cats.

Nope.

Corey: “Yeah… I live with my wife and our child…”

OPEN MOUTH GUFFAW

Corey: “Soooo… I probably should have told you earlier… you actually met my wife. She was the girl…. at the bar with me… I guess we’re in what you would call…  an open relationship .. BUT I reallllly like you. And she did to… and I wanna hang out!!!”

Me:  “You’re wife… being the girl who pulled you away from me as we were leaving the bar???”

Fucking swingers.

If that’s you’re style, more power to you…  I’m not one to judge. But I quickly came to the conclusion that I don’t want to date a guy whose wife witnessed our first kiss.

I never saw him again, but I totally talked to the dude a few more times. Not because I still wanted something to happen, but because I had a million questions about their life style and how it worked. I’m curious! What can I say? (I eventually told this story on the radio while he was listening which swiftly ended our interview-like relationship.)

If he would have had an open blog, I’m sure I could have found out all the answers by myself without wasting several weeks of his (and my own) time, and could have simply read about all the details on my own.

And this is why I have come to the conclusion that keeping an open blog is a good thing, and everyone else should too.

So if you have a freak-flag, wear it proudly… some people may be into that shiz.

And also, if you are a swinger/have more than 1 spouse/have 18 children/are a midget/have decided to change you skin color (I’m talking to you Sammy Sosa)/have appeared on the reality show “Obsessed” or in one of the more interesting episodes of “Intervention”/are in a cult/ have 2 sets of genitals/have an addiction to something outlandish… you should definitely start a blog and send me the link, pronto. I want to read all about your sordid lives.