Not enough hours in the day

I am still recovering from Queenie's birthday. We went out for a couple of cocktails on Thursday with another co-worker. Then I had to hurry off to get ready to meet Sports Guy for dinner. I could post photos of my food but I had the same thing I had back in August. Highly impressive is that when I arrived, on time, Sports Guy was already waiting for me. He's always quite punctual. My aunt says it has something to do with being a Virgo.

Friday it was off to continue celebrating Queenie's birthday. This time with a group of coworkers. And Sports Guy. And one of Queenie's guys. Oh, and the boyfriend of a coworker. There were many Persephone's Bees consumed. And then it was time to head to Nation's. Because we needed food. (Hmmm. I see a pattern. Somehow Persephone's Bees always seem to be followed by Nation's.)

I spent a good deal of Saturday sleeping. Because I actually had work I needed to finish on Sunday. And Sports Guy says that we will no longer be going out on school nights because it makes me too tired on the weekends. So instead he calls every night. When we end one conversation, he tells me what time he will call the next evening. He always calls within ten minutes of whatever time he has told me. I have never experienced anything like this in my life.

And now I am contemplating a nap before I continue on this week's cooking -- things that simmer. Last night was the pot of limas with ham. Tonight it's Beef Bourguignon. Later in the week will be potato leek soup.

Geeks unite

Here I was thinking that I wouldn't have a quiz for this weekend but then Tami came through.

Thanks Daniel

So apparently while I was out of town, I was tagged by Daniel. Here goes...

4 Jobs I’ve had
. Accounts receivable for a machine shop
. Bartender at an amusement park
. Project coordinator
.

4 movies I could watch over and over
. Rebecca
. Just about anything with Clint Eastwood
. The Godfather
. Roman Holiday

4 places I’ve lived in
. San Diego
. Williamsburg
. San Francisco
. Virginia Beach

4 places I’ve vacationed
. Barbados
. London
. Mazatlan
. Driving across the U.S.

4 websites I visit daily
. Kapgar
. CAP
. Cookiecrumb
. BWB

4 of my favourite dishes
. Almost anything with cheese
. Almost anything with crab
. Potato leek soup (with cheddar cheese in it of course)
. Curry chicken salad from Andronico's

4 places I would rather be
. London
. Barbados
. Curled up on the couch with a comforter and a pot of tea
. Anywhere warmer than here

4 people I am tagging
. Jill
. Fluffycat
. Silly
. Rachel

I'll be spending the rest of the weekend continuing to celebrate Queenie's birthday. Have fun y'all.

Oh, and for further entertainent, I have been hooked on this video since it first aired on SNL before Christmas. Immediately after the show I went online to look for it because I knew it was there. I just have one question. Why is the box shaking when they mention Kwanzaa? And I found the clip to be cool enough to pass onto my dad -- who I speak to daily. He is also the man who told the following joke in my presence -- "Why did Jill get off the elephant first? Answer: To help Jack off." I was 16 at the time. When I started laughing five minutes later, my dad took offense. Yep. Gotta love the Southerners.

Trials of dating

So Saturday I took The Skirt out and met some guys. Well, one of them I had met on previous occasions, back during the wildness that was known as summer I believe. Apparently he has been carrying a torch since then. With Queenie's encouragement, we ended up exchanging phone numbers. And here's the shock. He called on Sunday morning. To see if I actually had plans for Sunday. Until that phone call, I had planned on heading over to the usual spot wearing the leather pants. Why? Because Drummer Boy's band was playing there that night and I was going to torment him with what he was missing. Suddenly I didn't really feel like going out. Actually I rarely do on NYE because let's face it. It's amateur night. So I told Sports Guy (because that's his name for now) that it would be OK if he stopped by with a bottle of wine.

We sat around watching the Law and Order marathon, drinking wine, and talking. I now know his life story. And now we hit the "problems." He's 48. Yes, I know I am 40 but I do have a tendency to date guys who are younger than I. Then again, maybe that's what the problem has been. In his favor, he doesn't seem like a stick in the mud. Probably comes from his childhood of moving around quite a bit due to his dad's involvement in sports. But the real problem? He's nice. And seems to worship the ground upon which I walk. In the past guys like that have not lasted. Sure there's that initial joy at being adored but then that drowning feeling starts to come back. And somehow it's even worse if the guy is nice. Yeah, I know. I'm warped.

So if I was the type to make resolutions and all, mine would be to not trash this relationship. And don't look at me, saying that it is entirely too early to use that word. He's the one who said that he doesn't believe in becoming involved with someone unless he feels that he can make a commitment. Ewww. That's another ugly word.

Oh, and more fuel for the fire. When I was talking to him last night -- because hello, he calls daily -- he mentioned that he had talked to his parents. And told his mom about me. Gotta love that unique relationship between Southern men and their mamas. I know this because until her death, my dad talked to his mom daily. Good news? She apparently thinks that I sound wonderful, especially since I'm a teacher and because she was one before she got married. Bad news? Yep. Feeling that drowning sensation starting already.

Well, wish me luck and of course I will keep you posted.

Inner Holly

What is the perfect follow-up for embracing one's inner monologue? Embracing one's inner Holly.

By Thursday I was rested and itching to go. When Queenie called, I quickly jumped up and set about making myself presentable for public. We headed to my usual spot and I ended up taking one for the team. Per usual Queenie found a cute guy and I ended up talking to his obnoxious friend. Let me just say there was much spanking involved. In fact Queenie asked on Friday morning if my hand was sore.

Of course this being New Year's Day, I must contemplate my actions today carefully. Yep, time for that Southern superstition to raise its head once more. I vaguely remember mentioning last year the belief that whatever you do on New Year's will set the tone for the rest of your year. Last year I drove around SF and took photos of some of my fave spots. I ended the day at my old home away from home in North Beach. Now I argued that I was in there for the restroom and a drink. I believe I left several drinks later. Hmmm. That does sound like the rest of 2006. But then I ended up getting my dream job at the same time. Common denominator? I know how to charm folks when it's important to me. In the case of the bar, I had decided before entering how much I was willing to spend. Anything above that would mean that I needed to charm folks (men) into paying for the rest of my drinks.

So I thought about heading out on Friday but couldn't quite pull it together. I was determined to head out by Saturday. It's just as well I delayed a day. That one day gave me time to realize that I was feeling a little down. I mean it has been three months since I last had a date. (Oops. That was a mistake. I went out with Underwear Guy in November but that was just coffee. Doesn't really count.) Winter is notoriously a slow time for me as well. Oh yeah. And then there's that slight depression that hits every year during the holidays. By Saturday afternoon, I realized that I was going to have to pull out the big guns -- The Skirt.





Now The Skirt used to make an appearance at least once a month. Nowadays it's lucky if it sees the light of day once a year. The Skirt also requires a certain level of confidence in the wearer. It's not really an "I am woman. Hear me roar!" kind of feeling. It's more like "I am the dominatrix. Watch as I crush you under my heel." But that may be because I always wear The Skirt with The Boots. Oops. Was that too much info?

So I got all spiffed up and headed out. First thing was to order a drink. I'm usually a Cuba Libre kind of girl but The Skirt demanded a French martini instead. Then Queenie called to see if I was planning to head out. Everything flowed from there. Met a number of guys. One actually called on Sunday. He might just end up being around for a bit so I'll have to come up with a name for him. Maybe he shall be Sports Guy since that's all he watches on TV.

And now I need to start acting like a person who has to return to work tomorrow. *sigh*