This is a test. It is only a test.

I am not religious and I'm not going to get into a debate over religion.  But...if I were...I would definitely say that God is testing me right now.  I would also occasionally say that Jesus probably drinks himself to sleep when he hears me talk the way I do, but that's a whole other story, isn't it?

So, I was given a test today.  After I just wrote a blog about holding out in order to find the right guy (namely a single one), I received a friend request from married guy on Facebook.  I accepted it.  I accepted a friend request from a guy that said some extremely colorful things to me during our first meeting, one of which involved snorting certain illegal substances off my inner thigh.  Stupid.  I got a private message this morning...very casual at first...along the lines of "How you doin' girl?".  I was surprised that he had even requested me, because he is overly paranoid about his wife finding out about his extra-marital activities.  I told him that in my response.  He wrote back that basically he was over it and had "been thinking about kicking it and has been craving a good time".  I'm sorry, did I miss something?  Am I an escort?  A hooker?  Of course, he offered no money during this transaction, so I guess that just makes me a whore, then??  I say that now, because I have some clarity.  At the time, when I was looking at the email trying to think of a response and he IM'd me...I went along.  We conversed.  We talked about sex...a lot of sex.  I won't lie and say it didn't turn me on.  It totally did - like biting my lip, squirming in my chair, thinking of sneaking off to the other room and taking care of myself turned on.  The heat from my loins was clouding my rational thinking.  He wanted to meet up...soon.  I didn't say no, but I am going to.  I am going to be the "tease" and change my mind.  The worst that will happen is that he will delete me as a friend on Facebook and will completely avoid me if we are ever in the same room again.  I can handle that.  I'm not willing, however, to find out what bad things will happen if we do get involved.  I will be the one who ends up getting hurt in the end, not him.  Like I said in my last blog, I am worth more than to be kept a secret.  I need a man I can do things with...that I can go in public with. A regular, normal boyfriend-type person.  Ok, maybe not normal.  I like things a little away from the norm (psst: I have someone in mind!), but come on!  Please, God or PBR drinking Jesus or Universe or Whoever...send me a real relationship and I promise I'll be good.  I promise I'll say no and pass this test.  There is no threat to my success other than my inner-slut emerging, and I can damn well control that little bitch.  I think.  I can at least subdue her until I find said boyfriend and unleash that minx on him...becoming the best girlfriend on Earth...ok?
Thank you, Amen, Namaste, Blessed Be and all that.

I wrote this story...it's about a girl who lost her reputation and never missed it.

I probably should wear a sign that says this.  Just get it out of the way, then we can move on without any pretenses.  I should possibly even wear a sign that states, "If you have a girlfriend or wife and can read this sign, you are too close.  Please back away and do not even speak to me."  After all, I am "that girl".  I have been "that girl" for a very long time.  Since high school, even.  I am the chronic flirt.  I am single, for lots of reasons, including the fact that I am loyal to very few except myself.  I don't pay attention to things like whether or not a man is in a relationship already.  I sleep around.  I wear my sexuality with ease, not like other women who wear it like an awkward purse - never knowing how to hold it, where to hang it, or when to just put it down.  I am dangerous, or so some women might think.  In actuality, I'm not.

I can say no to men, even if most of the time I don't.  Women want to think the best of me, because after all, I really am a sweet and lovable human being; but they can't help having that little voice in the back of their head that tells them not to trust me around their men.  It's ok.  I get it.  I keep myself in check, even though I am a strong believer in the fact that it is NOT my job to do that with your man.  I get put in awkward situations and people assume things right off the bat.  It is true what they say about what it means to assume.  If you've never heard that ditty, then look it up using the link I provided.  I try not to assume things about others as well.  It's difficult sometimes.  There are many facets to my being and just because I talk about the most lively, wild parts does not mean that it is who I am in my entirety.  I deal with it and most times just laugh it off.  So, in the words of Forrest Gump, "that's all I have to say about that".

Speaking of assuming:  I said that I try not to do it very often.  It still happens.  Today for instance - I got a phone call from Mini Me's teacher.  Apparently, she is becoming somewhat of a social butterfly this year and is not focusing on her work.  I had been assuming everything was fine, when in fact, Mini Me has been hiding notes sent home by the teacher for me to sign.  She has also not been turning in her homework, which we have been completing every night.  This part, I will blame on the teacher.  I was extremely confused by her inadequacy at explaining her homework procedures at the beginning of the year.  She was not specific at all on the turn-in procedures and couldn't even answer a simple question that I asked, about which folder Mini Me's things are supposed to be brought back in.  Mini Me also says she is really strict and mean.  I don't know about that, but some organization is in order.  I'm honestly not looking forward to constant phone calls from the teacher.  Now that she has spoken with me once, I just gave her the go-ahead for other phone calls - I bet they come on a weekly basis.  Mini Me is very smart.  Did the teacher ever think that maybe Mini Me is not being challenged enough?  Little Man had that problem up until 5th grade.  He's in all accelerated classes and still thinks school is easy.  I would be looked at as the total bitch mom if I brought that up, though. So, I told her that I would look into it and that if she was having any more issues, please give me a call.  "Good Mom" points for me today.

I am still trying to work on "Good Friend" points.  I find those are harder to come by.

I used to think my life was like a soap opera...

Maybe it's more like a romantic comedy of errors.  Or maybe like one of those Lifetime movies that you can't stop watching, no matter how bad the acting is.  Either way, there were some interesting developments in my happenings over the past week or so.

First of all, I had a really crappy week last week.  Not for any reason in particular, I was just in a mood.  I was in this state of melancholy that I just could not escape from.  I really think that had I not had my tattoo appointment Saturday night, I might not have left my home at all over the weekend.  Or gotten out of my pajamas, for that matter.  But anyway, I sent C2 a note last week (I don't remember what day).  It had been a while since I had talked to him and I wanted to see how he was doing.  He was evidently in a mood as well.  He told me that he was not coming out this weekend and that he was just not happy...but that it wasn't my fault.  At first, I was just assuming that he believed that this chicken was the kind that thought everything was her fault.  I wasn't worried at the time, but now, I'm not so sure.  I thought he just wanted to be left alone (some people are like that after all).  I gave him a couple of days, then sent him another message on Friday night...I vented a little...I was feeling low and was wishing that he was in town...I was missing him.  I got no response.  At all.  All weekend.  In fact, he has been online so little the past week (almost two), that I had to make sure he hadn't deleted me.  Of course now, I am that girly chicken..."Is he not interested anymore?", "Did I really actually piss him off and he is not ready to talk about it?", "Is he mad that I made a comment in my blog about not feeling like I have anything in common with ANYONE?", "Or is he mad that I talked about sleeping with E?".  Fuck.  Fuck, fuck, fuck.  I didn't think we were at that point in all of this...we haven't even really had a conversation about "us".  I guess I just have to feel this one out.  I'll have to bring it up.  It makes me nervous.  So, basically in the span of two weeks, I went from all kinds of men to no men. 
To top things off, work has become a mess of childish, woman drama.  This is why I don't hang out with girls.  Caddy talk-behind-each-other's-back shit is ridiculous.  Really.  A manager got let go.  Now everyone is kissing the boss' ass and throwing other people under the bus to save their jobs.  A little birdie told me that I was next.  There are too many little birdies flying around this place.  Yes, I still associate with that manager who you say fucked you over (or whatever).  I don't give a crap.  This job is a paycheck.  End of story.  I don't like to get involved with inter-office drama and I certainly don't like to kiss ass.  I suppose I'll have to, though.  Appease the Queen.  Everyone else does.  I need to go back to school and work for myself.

After spending half of last week thinking that I was going to get canned, worrying about whether I had unintentionally hurt C2, and paying bills and all the other crap I need to deal with...I went to my appointment at the shop.  I am so happy I did.  I hung out with the guys, had some beers, got my tattoo, and all was well. Getting the tattoo was interesting.  He had me lay down flat, then said, "Ok, this is not going to work.  You're too busty.  Can you hold your boobs down?" We then spent about 10-15 minutes figuring out a way I could sit so my boobs wouldn't be in my chin.  He MacGyvered the chair, then everyone came in to get a peek at my busty-ness (ahem...I mean the tattoo in progress).  I stayed after for a bit and had a great time.  I really do need to make the effort to kick it with them more often...they're good people and I keep saying I need to make different friends.

I also had to put in a distress call to C3 this weekend.  We don't see each other, but I care about him, so I check in on him.  He also makes a good listener and voice of reason sometimes.  I was freaked out and he was the only person that could help me.  In all these happenings, I had once again been hit on by a married man.  What is it with me??!!  He blatantly hit on me when we were alone, asking if I wanted to "get together" sometime...that he really wanted to spend time with me.  I was seriously starting to believe that something was wrong with me for attracting men like this.  C3 thinks it's hilarious (he's one of the perpetrators).  He says that I project a very "open" personality and that men can tell I like the danger and excitement of the whole situation.  Hmmm. Ok. Obviously, these guys are thinking they can get something from me that their wives aren't giving them...otherwise they wouldn't feel the need to stray.  Obviously, I'm so much of a ho-bag that I don't even recognize my ho-baggy behaviors!  I have yet to get a good answer from C3.  His wife must have been around (lmao).  Maybe I just have no morals.  I am cursed when it comes to men.  They are never just normal...I guess nobody is, though.  Normal doesn't really exist.  I am just going to say married guy was a little drunk and I was the only person with a vagina around.  We'll see what the awkwardness level is like next time I see him.  Yes, our paths will cross again.

To top my weekend off, I got the random call from the ex, crying, saying "I love you so much and I always will."  Sheesh, he's got issues!  He didn't even ask to speak to his kids.

That was my bit of interesting nothingness.  We'll see how interesting my life is without a steady man in it.  Somehow, I think I'll find some kind of trouble to get into.  I always do.