kissing frogs

My Romcom-in-Real-Life Romance was short lived, as Hank* was unable to follow through on his romantic gestures. I was disappointed to say the least, but at least I found out quickly.

Next came Tony*. He was a tall, successful, ruggedly handsome business owner who seemed to think I hung the moon. I was really warming up to him as well, and considering our future options. We had been out a dozen or so times, when Hallow's Eve's Eve gave me a fright! We were hanging out at a bar talking with some people we just met. The election was quickly approaching and out it comes that Tony had already voted absentee/mail in ballot for HitlerVoldemortTrump, a man who scares the bejeezus out of me. A man who has a life-long reputation of being a sexual predator and a scam artist of a businessman. A man who regularly makes racist comments, and (at the time) had two pending trials in the next couple of months for fraud and for the rape of a 13 year old girl.

I told Tony that we needed to just not talk politics (so I could consider what to do with a guy I like who is obviously morally at odds with me). We talked about other things. We left the bar and were headed back home when we passed by a Hollywood iconic hotel and he asked if we could hop out for a drink in the hotel bar. Sure. More drinks sounds like a swell addition to this evening. At the bar, we started talking with the other people bellied up, and lo and behold Tony brings up Trump again! I am pretty drunk, so things get pretty heated. Long story short, I got so mad I got up and left him there! uhmNOthx buh-bye you can keep your selfish reasons for voting for evil.

Next was Johnny*. His online profile pix were dapper and handsome. When we met, his IRL self was moderatly attractive, but I felt no spark at all. On the plus side, we had a blast hanging out! He was hilarious. After 2 beers, I was ready to leave, but he doesn't ask and orders us another round. ...ok... well, I won't be rude, he is sweet, I'll hang out. After beer 3, I say I really must leave, and he very sweetly walks me to my car. I go in to give a polite hug, and he shoves his tongue down my throat. Dude. Johnny. I gave you no indication that I was open to that! Ugh. Next.

Finally I met Tyrone*, a gorgeous tatted up former musician turned real-job-holder. He was funny, smart, not voting for Trump, and seemed to be really my type. We had a first date that turned into practically three dates. Charming, sweet, and seemingly into me. Until he reaveals on date two that he is moving to Phoenix at the end of the month, but if things go well, we can fly back and forth on the weekends to "romp" and if things go really well, maybe more. Well call me flattered, you want to be FWB with me? Ugh. #ByeFelicia

I feel like I'm on an episode of MTV's Next.

But you gotta kiss a bunch of frogs to find your prince, right? Pucker up and kiss it...

*names changed to protect the frogs

Only in LA

Since I got a raise at work, I decided to treat myself to ... a diamond ring new car massage housekeeper. I'm still frugal, so I scoured Groupon for a deal, and found Handy. I scheduled a time for someone to come clean my house. Now I usually keep a fairly clean house, but between me, my female roommate and the three cats between us, I get tired of vacuuming. So it was either say fuckitall, or hire a specialist.

I chose the latter.

Well, right on the dot my cleaning lady Maureen rang the buzzer. First strange thing I noticed, she speaks perfect English. Then she arrives at my door, and the second surprise. She is GORGEOUS. No, I didn't accidentally order a stripper-maid, she was a regular maid. She wore shapeless baggy sweats, her hair was in an un-brushed ponytail, but she was just beautiful.

I showed her around and she got to work. Every so often she would ask me a question about something, and toward the end we were both in the same room and started chatting a bit. Lo and behold, my beautiful articulate housekeeper is also ... wait for it ... an actress and screenwriter. She went to school for screenwriting and journalism and has aspirations of acting.

In any other town in America your maid would be an undocumented worker from Mexico or the Philippines or Czech Republic, but not LA. In LA you get yet another wanna-be actress.

"I'm an actress." "Oh really? What restaurant?"

I suppose as far as flexible jobs go, would you rather sling food at assholes or clean up after one? More power to her. And next time I can't deal with vacuuming or get writers block, I know who to call.

Junk in the Trunk

I went out shopping today for shoes and came home with a little black dress. And no shoes. Whoops. I swear, I wasn't even going to go in the fitting room. And yet, there I was, with this cute little black thing draped over my arm that had leapt from the rack to my grabby little mitts. Everything happened so quickly that I didn't even look at the size. I only saw that it was Kenneth Cole and marked down to $40 from $128. And that it was so cute!

Well, as I'm ripping off my clothes in the fitting room wishing I wasn't wearing a sports bra, I happen to glance at the size. It is a 2.

Just so we're clear, these are the types of women that wear a size 2:

I usually wear a size 6, maybe a size 8 if it runs "smaller" in the booty. (What? I have junk in my trunk carried by my child-bearer hips) If it has more "generous" sizing, I might be able to squeeze myself into a 4. But a TWO???

I haven't worn a two since... since... well, since never! I went straight from kiddie sizes to sprouted hips in one fell swoop. I remember being in middle school and wishing I had the ruler shaped bodies of my schoolmates, thinking I was fat because my body curved out from my waist.  (Lord don't get me started on my 12 year old self's body image!)

Well, I had already stripped off my clothes so I figure, what the heck? It will be too small. I won't be able to get it over my now-loved hourglass shape (read: hip bones and booty and junk). I'll just try to get it on to see if I should even hunt and search for a bigger size. --there was only one on the rack, hence my quick snatch and run to the fitting room. I prepare to suck in the guts as far as they will go, think thin thoughts, step in and -- WHAT THE WHAT??? Praise stretchy fabric and it's smooth ride over my hide!

Always! Gawd, Marilyn, you're so smart. 

Ok, so it fits over my rump, surely the long sleeves are going to be way to short on my gangly arms. I pull the dress all the way up, zip up the back and... do mine eyes deceive me? Does this LBD actually fit?? I have to look at my reflection no less than four mirrors just to verify that I don't look like sausage being squeezed out of its casing.

BTW, don't google "sausage casing" unless you want to be grossed out.
I don't think I will be eating that again. ever. Berf.

Well, even if the four mirrors at the store lied, I came home and tried it on for the roomie, and she agreed that it fit! Wahoooooo!!!! (does happy dance)

Mama's got a new LBD! ...now if only I had somewhere to wear it...

nothing tastes as good as thin feels. except maybe chocolate. and cheese. and ice cream. and pizza...

Fat and happy.
Just an expression, right? well guess what? I'm miserable and (getting) thin! yeah!  Let's hear it for the breakup diet!

(or, what really happened) I realized I've put on a substantial amount of weight in the past year and a half, so I decided to do a 30 day challenge with Beach Body. What this means is instead of my beloved cereal for breakfast, I have a protein and superfood shake. And instead of sitting on my lardass on the sofa, I work out. To Tony Horton. *shudders*

Actually, everyone hates you. 

Seriously, I think he is the MOST annoying person on the planet!  I don't even think the other people in his videos like him. They just like the idea of being on a P90X video, and getting paid for it. You'll see them on the break or after the workout hugging each other, giving each other high-5's, and then Tony comes around and they all act like "oh yeah, Tony, right. yeah, man, here's your hug-5. please hire us again for more of your videos." Even though I'm still not really familiar with all the routines, I have to put the video on mute. I just cannot hear his lame ass jokes, his narcissism, and his trying to be cool.  Dude, you were never cool growing up, and you're not cool now.  You just have something everyone wants. If you didn't have that, no one would talk to you.

On the plus side, (or minus?) I've lost over 8 pounds in two weeks!

Today I ran (ok, ok, jogged/walked) a 5K. I fucking hate running. But I also have learned about myself that I don't like to follow rules. But how can I commit to the results if I don't commit to the rules?

So, off I went. I didn't want to have to drive a path first to mark out 3.1 miles, so I downloaded this app called Map My Run.  I don't like running on busy streets, so I found a quiet little neighborhood and, well, see if you can see my route...

What!?!? So I was running in circles. Ain't no shame.  It's not like it is my life! Oh wait...

3 little pigs

so... this little hussy went to market and got herself three dates this week.

this little piggy #1: sweet, funny, *tall*, bomb kisser.  maybe slightly boring.

this little piggy #2: funny, *super cute*, not-so-tall, thoughtful, easy convo

this little piggy #3: so funny I snorted. *twice.*, not-so-tall, successful, super cute, great conversation, terrible kisser!


So who won't get their house blown down by the big bad wolf?

They are all seemingly interested in pursuing things further (I mean, could you blame them? They went out with me after all.) and they all have different merits... gah! What have I gotten myself into??? Do I have to give a "breakup speech" to two of these dudes eventually? I hate the breakup speech. Someone always gets hurt! Can't I just be indecisive and have them all?

mmmm bacon