After multiple requests for an updated blog-post (for which I felt flattered: thank you ladies), I've finally decided to buckle down and tackle it. I've been waiting for inspiration to strike these past few weeks. I have not experienced a paucity of experiences, but rather, I realized, seemed to be lacking my general good humor about the whole thing. With this as my disclaimer, I seek to update and to inform, and am not quite sure if I'm ready to laugh...As usual however, I enjoy the general unease, discomfort, and awkwardness these recent events have offered me (in a plentiful bounty). Bullet points have been employed for easy distinction and toggling between men. Definitions have been provided where memory and former entries do not suffice to inform.
Blade: Done-zo. At least, *deep exhale*, my life is not yet relegated to any sort of normality. For this I am grateful. Also for honesty and bluntness (the latter not so much on my part I can assure you). [Previous comments have been deleted and the author takes full responsibility and apologizes for the misrepresentation of said Blade's text message and has been alerted to the miscommunication. She rescinds her criticism.]
Diesel: So, apparently, this facebook girlfriend that appeared was a joke he was playing on another friend and had not told me because he thought it would be "obviously fake". If you mean her hair color and boobs, yes, clearly, but this is also precisely the type of girl Diesel likes. *Cue: "I like my girls a little on the trashy side" lyrics.* Now, if I am not mistaken, this does not make me ill-humored, but rather makes him kind of weird. Why would one take the time to make a fake Facebook relationship I ask you? Mmm. Best not to get inside this one's head. Sadly, last night we met up for what was meant to be 2 beers, and ended at 2 more beers, an atrocious "Gummy Bear" shooter, and G&T...oh yea, and in his bedroom. Ugh. My only solace is that this ended up so awkwardly I will probably never have to see him again. For real. Please remind me about this the next time I say we're just meeting up for a few drinks. Also, remind me not to wear the noisiest damn welter-weight championship looking belt I own when I may have to make a sneaky exit at 7 am. Fail.
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