Stupidheads and Mistaken Identities :)

K--so yesterday I told you I had a date, yes?

I was, in general, panicked--full on freaked OUT and I can't quite explain why. I just was, okay? LOL

Anyway, sometimes life really does surprise you and it isn't in the way of divorce papers, a new girlfriend and a bank account you have to close because it costs more to have it, than you have to put into it. LMAO

So, my date.

I mistook him for a stupidhead and I really thought he might have entry THREE in the stupidhead category. However, he goes into the "wow, who knew teachers were such hotties" category.

Ahem...

Soooo, like I said, I was a nervous wreck. I had ten or fifteen mother hens over on our group in babe-ville spend an entire day listening to this author whine, or whinge as Jaynie calls it, freak OUT. obssess, cry, piss and yes, MOAN. I think I do it well, thank you.

I couldn't peg it--cuz I'm never nervous over meeting a man. I'm almost always comfortable in ANY situation and I can usually illicit a good time in a morgue. It's just my way.

I'm never worried if a guy will find me attractive because in my mind it's no big deal. I'm cool with whatever. I also never think about how they may be feeling either.

However, last night was a whole diff ball of wax and my good friend AJ reminded me that this just might be how the dates I've tossed felt about me.

God, it SUCKS--and I mean like big, roasting weenies. Tee hee.

I'm not prone to jitters, but I had 'em. I'm never in the mirror for more than a half an hour--done--finito. Yet last night, I was in there for TWO FRICKEN' HOURS!

TWO. Jesus.

I primped, I primped some more and then, I primped again because a girl can never primp too much. UGH. I want to look cute, enticing, FAN-FREAKIN'-TASTIC, dammit and I don't care how I do it. I don't know why it's so important that I do--I just do. So there.

I want this guy to like me--even if he did piss me off and even if he's not my likely suspect. I don't care. I want him to want me and I want him to want me BAD--so I can say well, good on you, but I don't want ya back and discard him like I have my other dates.

Shoo-shoo and all.

Yeah, right.

So, feeling not so pretty--I head out for my date and I do it with shaky legs and a plethora of supportive e-mails from my babies in babe-ville. I have a bazillion offerings in my head from them. Be yourself, have fun--you're funny, gorgeous, how could he NOT like you.

Well, because I sorta like him and it's called KARMA. LMAO

So--shaky but in possession of all of my faculties--I meet my date.

Um, wow. This one time stupidhead has me all atwitter from like, "hello".

He smells so good too. I love cologne on a man--I don't like it if it chokes me, but I love the scent of a man. Gulp--gulp--gulp.

Off we go to dinner, where we spend many hours hanging out and talking--then we go have coffee--where we spend a couple of more and the more time we spend the more I like him.

This potential stupidhead, who I didn't think I would like is making places on me sing. Yeah, I said SING.

Whatever.

So as the night wore on, I find myself smiling--giggling like a stupid girl--twirling my HAIR.

Sigh...I've not felt that way in a LONG time--over anyone.

So this guy, who is totally not my type and in the begininng I'd pegged for a stupidhead, is now the object of much admiration from this girl, among other things that I refuse to reveal because I don't want written proof. LMAO

Ya just never know about a stupidhead who isn't really a supidhead, now do ya?

LOL

Dakota :)