The Dawn of a New Era

I'm not going to say I'm back, because only time will show if that's really the case or not. But I have promised to update more regularly. Since I'm currently updating approximately once a year, I don't see that being a tough goal to accomplish. I'm 5 days into a very lovely case of the Shingles, which have started to appear in visible places. I'm not leaving the house while I look like a monster/plague victim/freak show, so I can't use the excuse that I'm too busy.

I'm marathoning Parks and Recreation (which is hilarious, how I missed out on this show for so long I don't know) while Lolo is sitting on my bed growling out the window at the breeze. Or maybe she's growling because it sounds like one of the neighbors is reenacting a war zone down the street. Is it an airsoft gun battle? Is one of the neighbors gunning down everyone in sight? Are they using some sort of garage tool that I'm completely unfamiliar with? The world may never know.

I've been talked into writing about my trainwreck of a dating life, which we shall refer to as Kay's Blind Gayting (mis)Adventures. Unfamiliar with the term? A blind date is someone you meet for the first time when you have a date with them. Gayting is either used to define "When 2 people of the opposite sex (one of which is gay) are best friends and/or hang out on a regular basis" or "When two men go on a date." I don't see why gay boys get to have all the fun with this word, so I am commandeering it for my own use.

I would like to be clear that I am perfectly content on my own, that I do not need a relationship or anyone else to make me happy. I rock all by myself. But sometimes I get a little curious about what's out there, what the dating world has to offer. I moved back to Cali a few months ago and my best friends are all 2+ states away, so sometimes I do get a little lonely and want someone to go out with. Mostly I've been looking for new friends, but being a girl who likes other girls, the door is always open for it to be more than a friend date. Which can get confusing. It becomes a game where what is not said matters just as much as what is said. Subtext is infinitely important. Or maybe it's just me. I freely admit that I question everything. I often have to ask for clarification, not because I don't understand a person's meaning, but because I can see several different meanings and I want to be clear which one they intended to express.

I have not been in a relationship, serious or otherwise, for 3 years. I'm ok with that. I'm no slore, I don't sleep around and I have standards.


So before I jump into this let's have a disclaimer: These stories are all true. The people involved are real people with real feelings. I always try to keep that in mind and treat others as I would like to be treated: with fairness and respect. All views are my own and I acknowledge that this is only my side of the story. I could easily be the star of someone else's trainwreck blind gayting adventures. And finally, all names and some identifying details have been changed to protect the innocence of those involved.

I've come to realize

That I'm not such a great blogger when I'm happily paired up with someone. I'm a much better blogger when I'm doing miserable things like getting dumped (because someone not me got pregnant---remember that one? Oh snap!), or having cancer, having knee surgery, getting food poisoning (remind me to fill you in on that one), having ports put in or taken out (thus causing all sorts of bad port jokes to ensue), or other depressing, not so much living a normal life things.

And I'm ok with that.

So in efforts to become a better source of entertainment to all of you, I shall recap my week:

-Monday: normal monotony at work, Teriyaki from the best place ever for dinner

-Tuesday: Dr's appt 2 hours away, more love from my special Janitor Stalker, went do dog park where some undesirable dog tried to make sweet love to Lolo, Teriyaki from second-best place ever for dinner.

-Wednesday: Work goes crazy as everyone pretends we have a normal job while some VIP tours the building, Teriyaki from best place ever for dinner.

-Thursday: Work more monotonous, Teriyaki from best place ever for dinner (it is the best place ever because it is the best Teriyaki on earth. And because everyone who works there is cute). As soon as I finished eating the Teriyaki of Awesomeness (always eaten at home, always shared with Lolo), I felt immediate pain in my Tummy of Not-Quite-Steel. Lolo appeared to be ok. Pain didn't go away. I found my chlorox disinfectant wipes and cleaned the Porcelain Throne, because I knew what was coming. I worshipped that throne. The Tummy of Not-Quite-Steel didn't feel better. There was nothing left in it, but it still was not ok. All night it felt like a sucker punch had been sneaked in when I wasn't looking, mixed with nausea and odd hurty-hurtness.

Friday: I called my Dr first thing in the morning, got in at 9 (hello, 9??? I'm having a tummy emergency damnit!), and he was kinda a douche and said it was textbook Food Poisoning, and it'd go away. No magic pills of wonder, no excuse from work, nothing. Said call back if it didn't go away, never mind that it was Friday, and they're not open weekends. Dr Douche... I go to work, where my supervisor's supervisor sends me home (yea, he's not as big of a douche as we tell everyone he is).

I slept a lot.

I craved more teriyaki. I got uber hungry, and went to the so-not-in-the-same-league-as-to-practically-be-a-different-type-of-food-altogether Teriyaki House. It did not hit the spot, but I did not get violently ill...

On my way home to eat my unpleasant Teriyaki, some douche rear-ended me. I throw up my hands in the universal symbol of What-The-Fuck? and pull into the nearest parking lot when the light turns green. Dumb-shit-rear-ender-man pulls his Volvo in behind me. I make sure my Lolo love is ok (it was a little tap, more annoying than anything), and climb out to check my beastly lil truck.

A dirty looking hippie climbs out of the Volvo to check the damage he inflicted upon his own "car." My lil truck, I am pleased to report, has barely a scratch upon the plastic of it's step-up part of the bumper. Dirty hippie's Volvo has a busted headlight and some unpretty scratches on it's stupid bumper. Score one for Ford!

Dirty hippie claims he "dozed off for a second." I suspect he's more than a little bit high, and just want to get away before I get some sort of dirty contact high from his clothes.

Saturday: I decide that Lolo needs some Dog Park time, since she is driving me crazy with her energy, and she already had a bath Friday, AND joined in my shower that morning... (I swear she's half lab or something. I can't keep this monster out of water). I load everything up in the truck of awesomeness from the passenger side, then cross around the front to jump in, and we're off. ...For 10 feet. ...When I realize something is very wrong. The left rear tire is flatter than your mom's pancake booty.

I put the truck back and proceeded to freak out. I do not have AAA. I do not know how to change a tire, though I do have a spare tire. This is of no help to me, because I do not even have the strength required to open my own bottle of orange juice. At work I alternate who I have open it so the same person does not laugh at me every day.In the midst of my freak-out it was brought up that my insurance might call a tow truck for me. And they did. Apparently a tire change is covered under my towing package. Nice. For future safety, I got myself some AAA as well.

The dudes came and changed my tire, then I took the tire of holeyness and the Lolo of squirmyness to the tire patching place. 2 hours later!!!!! Lolo was actually a very good girl, sat in my lap the whole time. I decided to reward her by going to the Dog Park an hour away. We're there maybe 20 minutes when the Animal Control douche shows up and kicks out every dog who's not wearing their tags. 3 dogs remained... Lolo hates her collar, hates her tags, hates her harness too, but I make her wear that one.

So we went to the second-best Teriyaki house ever and got some din din to go. She's still my good lil angel, and my 3 things of shittiness are done, so my week's now lookin up.

Much love kids.