Today I read an article about quantum entanglement. There is a theory that because we all come from the same beginning (Big Bang) that we are connected to each other on a quantum level. This may explain why you might think of someone you haven't heard from in a long while and then suddenly they contact you. I have a theory to throw into the mix- the- I got a boyfriend and previous men from my life can sense it- theory. In the past week, I've had five guys contact me from out of the blue when I haven't heard from them in forever. Where were these dopes when I was lonely?
The first was Herps. He sends random texts inviting me to see his band. I always decline. The other night, I get one around 2 a.m. saying "Come sit on my face." I'm not even kidding. Now, let me establish that we have never had that kind of dialogue with each other at all. This is akin to a penis pic- totally unwarranted and offensive. I sincerely hope it was meant for someone else and he accidentally sent it to me. The best response seemed to be no response.
Then, I hear from two guys that I had one date with each. They were alright dates. The one guy was closer to my age, and attractive. We had drinks and watched The Shooter starring Mark Wahlberg. The other guy took me to dinner and we later had drinks at an amazing champagne bar. But, no second dates were made. Each of them tried, but I was always busy. Maybe on purpose.
Then, two guys I never even made first dates with contacted me. The one guy, I was supposed to see the Dark Knight Rises with, so that tells you how long ago that was. The doofus just texts me, wanting to get together. Really? Missed your chance, chump. Same for this other guy. We tried to make dates repeatedly. He was always a bit squirelly about it. He claimed he didn't text and we only communicated via email. I eventually told him I thought he was "catfishing" me and that he must be 300lbs. Who knows? Its' kind of infuriating. I went soooo long without anyone. So many lonely nights. Now, I'm bombarded by former connections. The universe is a cruel mistress. I just don't get it. It's as if they can sense that I've found a good man. And, shit, these guys don't even come close. It would be like comparing Tobey Maguire with Chris Hemsworth. My guy is super hot and the man of my dreams. He may screw up birthday planning, but he's awesome. I think Ryan Gosling could proposition me and I'd turn him down. Wait, I'm not sure about that one. Ryan Gosling is on another level from the rest of men. How about Michael Pitt? Yeah, that works. He's damn good-looking." Sorry, Mr. Pitt, I have a man." Seriously, saying "Sorry, Mr. Gosling, I have a man" just isn't a statement anyone would ever say. But, I am head-over-heels for this guy. The world must be able to sense it.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Travels with Bob
A co-worker of mine is going to Ireland in a few weeks. It brought back great memories for me of when I went there in 2003. Bob and I had been married for a little while and we had always wanted to go there. My grandfather's family was Irish. The Flemings are Scottish and the Griffith clan is Welsh. But, I think many people have a longing to visit what might be the most beautiful of the British Isles, as did we.
This trip was anything but boring from the start. With my crazy luck and the believed curse of the Flemings, there was never a dull moment. It started in Pittsburgh with our plane tickets. The very first clerk we saw didn't process Bob's ticket correctly. From that point on, every plane stop we had to make, they declared Bob wasn't on the previous flight. It got really interesting when we were coming back from Ireland and they tried to tell me I'd have to fly back alone until they got his ticket cleared up. That wasn't happening. I've learned that airlines are really good at making mistakes and making you suffer for them. Luckily, we got home together. The funny part was, Bob was very angry about this and wearing a green military coat. This promptly got him pulled out of line and searched by security guard. I was having my own troubles understanding the man taking my ticket. Having never flown before, I was baffled by him asking if I packed my own bag. Not having a criminal mind, I didn't realize he was asking for the prevention of terrorism. As I contemplated this question, the stoic Irishman got less and less patient with me. Blondie finally figured it out and we somehow got out of Ireland.
While we were there, we had the best time ever. We didn't have an itinerary, so we just drove wherever we pleased. I had a bit of trouble with the accents in Dublin and Bob had some with the accents in the countryside. At a bed and breakfast, the owner asked if we'd like salmon and scrambled eggs. I was surprised when Bob said "yes". As we're eating, he wondered why the eggs tasted different. I told him because of the salmon. "Salmon? There's no salmon". He didn't understand what the man asked. I laughed like crazy.
Our main misadventures were on our night in Galway. The whole trip, we kept from drinking the water. We were smart enough to know that bacteria can plague you in foreign water, so we refrained. However, we quickly grew tired of Ireland's tiny Cokes. They're half the size of American ones. At our dinner in Galway, our waiter placed a pitcher of water on our table. Foolishly, we drank. Back at the bed & breakfast, Bob was beset by horrendous diarrhea. Being a jackass, I teased him for it. Karma was an awful mistress because, then I was hit by violent vomiting. We fought all night for time in the bathroom. I declared my situation worse since he left a lingering smell from his part of the illness, which made me puke more. The claim to fame of this bed and breakfast was that Chelsea Clinton once stayed there. After that, I'm sure it was the smell and sounds the two Americans projected from their room. To make matters worse, we had a forty-five minute ferry ride the next morning. Thankfully, we were much better by then.
Overall, we had a great time. We saw some astounding sights like Newgrange and the Cliffs of Moher. These are forever in my mind. But, as Martha Gellhorn once stated about travels, no one wants to hear about your trips. They only want to hear the disaster stories. I'm glad we made the trip and I someday hope to return, this time with Viggo. I'll remember to not drink the water and to answer quickly that I've packed my own bags.
This trip was anything but boring from the start. With my crazy luck and the believed curse of the Flemings, there was never a dull moment. It started in Pittsburgh with our plane tickets. The very first clerk we saw didn't process Bob's ticket correctly. From that point on, every plane stop we had to make, they declared Bob wasn't on the previous flight. It got really interesting when we were coming back from Ireland and they tried to tell me I'd have to fly back alone until they got his ticket cleared up. That wasn't happening. I've learned that airlines are really good at making mistakes and making you suffer for them. Luckily, we got home together. The funny part was, Bob was very angry about this and wearing a green military coat. This promptly got him pulled out of line and searched by security guard. I was having my own troubles understanding the man taking my ticket. Having never flown before, I was baffled by him asking if I packed my own bag. Not having a criminal mind, I didn't realize he was asking for the prevention of terrorism. As I contemplated this question, the stoic Irishman got less and less patient with me. Blondie finally figured it out and we somehow got out of Ireland.
While we were there, we had the best time ever. We didn't have an itinerary, so we just drove wherever we pleased. I had a bit of trouble with the accents in Dublin and Bob had some with the accents in the countryside. At a bed and breakfast, the owner asked if we'd like salmon and scrambled eggs. I was surprised when Bob said "yes". As we're eating, he wondered why the eggs tasted different. I told him because of the salmon. "Salmon? There's no salmon". He didn't understand what the man asked. I laughed like crazy.
Our main misadventures were on our night in Galway. The whole trip, we kept from drinking the water. We were smart enough to know that bacteria can plague you in foreign water, so we refrained. However, we quickly grew tired of Ireland's tiny Cokes. They're half the size of American ones. At our dinner in Galway, our waiter placed a pitcher of water on our table. Foolishly, we drank. Back at the bed & breakfast, Bob was beset by horrendous diarrhea. Being a jackass, I teased him for it. Karma was an awful mistress because, then I was hit by violent vomiting. We fought all night for time in the bathroom. I declared my situation worse since he left a lingering smell from his part of the illness, which made me puke more. The claim to fame of this bed and breakfast was that Chelsea Clinton once stayed there. After that, I'm sure it was the smell and sounds the two Americans projected from their room. To make matters worse, we had a forty-five minute ferry ride the next morning. Thankfully, we were much better by then.
Overall, we had a great time. We saw some astounding sights like Newgrange and the Cliffs of Moher. These are forever in my mind. But, as Martha Gellhorn once stated about travels, no one wants to hear about your trips. They only want to hear the disaster stories. I'm glad we made the trip and I someday hope to return, this time with Viggo. I'll remember to not drink the water and to answer quickly that I've packed my own bags.
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