Sunday nights always get me in trouble

It wasn’t my fault...there were smiling couples embracing, great restaurants, fun stories of love. A lot of good looking guys everywhere and I was specifically told that they were all there just waiting for me! What is a single girl to do?  Why, fall pry to the Match.com commercials, again.

I know the routine, give them $119.00 and start shopping for men like it is your job. Then move on to the computer hot picks. They select 7 guys with similar interests for you. At first I was very hopeful because there seemed to be a science to it until the 3rd profile then I realized it was the same science that Larry, Curly and Moe practice...yuk yuk yuk yuk... let's try that one.

The 1st pick was a pet lover... at first I was confused as to whose profile it was. Ten pictures of the dog wearing a rain coat, a football jersey, ear muffs, etc. posing all around town. Then one picture of the guy sitting on his porch. He is looking for someone loyal..his best friend.  What's up with the dog? ...just sayin. 

The forth guy blinded me..there he was in his bathroom taking a picture of himself in the mirror. White tank shirt..eyes aiming into the camera...trying his best to look like the Calvin Kline underwear model. I panned down....then….SHIT SHIT pan up..pan up.  Give me a break, I just had my dinner...WTF, there he was in his boxers holding his junk. It was like he had long black weeds growing around his stubby legs and I could clearly see red pimples popping thru the weeds.  It's like they were reaching for air so they could dry up but that was never going to fucking happen...trapped pimples..it was like somebody please call the Agency for Toxic Substances.  My stomach is turning..the new diet has arrived…the black weed of death. 

Anyway, I mustered up some strength..not in the mood to shop and I was really seeing the same stuff as last time.  Guys posting pictures of themselves in groups so you have no idea which one he is because the only other picture of him is with a disposable Kodak, taken 500 yards away at sundown.  I get screwed every time on that one.

I had no energy for #7, my stomach was still doing contractions and threatening to make me eat my dinner twice. He was looking for a girl to wear his jacket when it was windy and to hold his hand while he was driving.  I just want to ask – “Why the fuck wouldn’t I wear my own jacket when it’s windy” and then let him know that the hand positions are at the 9 and 3.

367 viewed my profile..lots of traffic..lots of traffic.but no one stopped at the light.

10 Miles Before I Cry

Well, it’s that time again….the Broad Street Run.  Honestly, all I can think about it my last debut back in 2011 (1:50:46).  The experience was like one big wet and wild ride but where they run out of water on the last slide and you have to push yourself down the hot plastic, burning your ass all the way.….I seriously not kidding when I say I now have the runs thinking of it and I could not make it out of the office today to pick up my packet.  Opps, hope you finished your lunch;-).

It started out cool in the beginning...I got an official email YOU ARE IN!  yay, I won the lottery I’m in….  Today, I ask myself – did I really win?  Can I give the winning spot back and ask for a consolation prize…oh, like maybe a black eye and a missing tooth?

I haven’t done any running at all this year, which is adding to the anxiety, so when I was home dying Thursday and Friday I decided to take other preparations to help with my upcoming journey thru hell.  I went to EBay for the first time ever…first stop was to get an iPod.  I was bidding on two purple ones, they each came with instructions and all the accessories.  I would bid, then I’d lose, I’d bid, then I’d lose…the same person (sk***) kept outbidding me by $1.00.  Why wouldn’t he stop-just let me have the damn thing-was he playing with me?   Exhausted and tired of all of the You’re A Loser Emails from EBay (which they already go thru the trouble of alerting you with a flashing red sign after its over so I’m not sure why they want to follow thru with another loser message).

Anyway, I went back in on Friday….this time prepared.  I had a large coffee, some food, relaxing music in the background, and I was prepared to give sk*** and all his iPod stealing buddies a spanking.  Friday is the day I became an EBAY Rock star and then due to unforeseen circumstances I had to demote myself to an EBAY violinist.  There it was a little red iPod…looked a chipped and didn’t have accessories but who cares.  Starts at 57, me 58, 59, me 60, then 61.50…ha, I’m thinking it’s mine..I could do .50 all day long…I’ve got nowhere to go.  Coffee is right here, I’ve got my sandwich…bring it. I see it says next bid is 62. I’m there, 62.50, I’m there…strategically I’m watching the remaining time and I’m increasing steadily but not too quickly..I wait until there is 2 seconds left…I’ll show Mr. Mystery Man whose boss…I slap down $66….holding my finger on the submit button..bang, yeah…whose my bitch now…  A message on the top flashes You Won! Yes, I won, I won…did a  little dance..made a little noise.  Within a minute, I get an email saying it was $62 for the red engraved iPod.  $62? I went back to the bidding history starting at the $62 mark and noticed that I was the only one bidding on it...  I was strategically outbidding myself the whole time…what a jackass.  Does that make me my own bitch?  Too confusing.

Engraved? oh, yes, it came engraved…inspirational quotes.  All I need to do is read it at the 7 mile mark. I’ll muster whatever little strength I have left in my wilting body and chuck that “you can do it, be competitive, enjoy the ride” inspirational iPod at the closest hard service I see.  Whose iPod did I get?  When do they read it?  I don’t know about you but 15 minutes into exercising I’m seeing double..the last thing I want to do is whip out the smallest iPod in the world and try to read a quote from Buddha.  Even if I could read, which I can’t, at what point do I say to myself..shit…where can I dig up that extra push..oh, yeah, my iPod.  I want desperately to meet the owner.

Well, I won’t bore you with the rest of the purchases but I did obtain a pair of red compression socks, which will be around my ankles mile 2 – too big, a roller so I can stretch…it’s about 5 inches long so I’m not sure what I’m throwing on there to stretch, pinky maybe, and a coffee maker with some open coffee packets.

I am set.... Good luck to all my friends running it.  And, remember if you see me crying it's okay - I'm only in pain and want to go home.

The Masseuse

I woke up with a stiff neck and a sore back.  I"m sure you've all been there and you probably had the same thought as me....I'll go to the Masseuse at lunch and take care of it.  My place is very local, costs $1.00 per minute and the second you walk in they call someone up from the basement to take care of you...lol, I'm not even kidding. I'm the only one who speaks English so I usually ask for 61 minutes and I am always the only one laughing....hahah I still think it's funny.  It's like a box of chocolates in that place....you never know what you'll get.  Take today for instance,
As per the norm I go behind the Wizard Of Oz's great curtain, get naked, climb under a large blanket and wait.  Anxious to find out if it will be a good massage or a bad massage. It was bad.  Today, I got a female Chuck Norris. 

It started out with elbows, she just kept digging her elbow into my back...I'm laying there thinking this isn't a massage it's a trip on a Septa bus...use your hands, use your hands.  At some point her elbows must have gotten tired because she tucked her fingers into two tight fists, and with all her weight she started grinding them into my back...I''m laying there thinking - WTF are you kidding me???  I was praying she would stay away from my neck.  No luck, she just started pinching my neck as hard as she could...as lay there I remember saying "ouch, ouch, ouch, stop, stop"  Next thing I know chop, chop, chop all over my body...even my friggen hand.  Who chops hands?? Seriously, why?

Seriously, I knew there would be chopping, there always is, but I wasn't prepared for her to hop up on my back and start massaging me with her thumbs.  I swear she really hopped up on my back and I had a thumb massage.  One minute she was on the ground next minute she was on my back...I don't know how it happened because she was 4'1.  I never heard the dismount either. 

Most of you ladies know what comes next.  The hot stones...and the wet towel wipe down.

I'm laying there more than likely bruised-but it's my back so I can't see it-and she comes after me with hot stones.  It's like she was mentally tormenting me now.  She's clapping them together for about 3-4 minutes - I just want to yell, okay, okay, burn me already and get it over with....and, for a second there I was pretty sure I heard her throw a drop of water on them...just waiting for the steam sizzle off.  Guess when she burns someone she wants to get it right.

Little did I know it wasn't about the stones. And what happened to me for the last 40 minutes was just foreplay to Chuck.  She rips the blanket off of me like there's some sort of emerg ency then she just takes the stones and violently goes from my neck to the bottom of my ass.  For 5 minutes my body was propelling all over the place.  Did she not notice?  I was seriously doing a naked military crawl to get back on the table with each time. I'm not kidding when I say every 30 seconds I had to throw my right arm up to grab some of the sheet up top in front of me while at the same time bending my left knee up to the side to push off the table.  Then the wet cloth.  I guess she missed the whole point.  That would be to wipe the oil off that she threw all over me.  Instead, she sees some dirt on the bottom of my foot (Schuylkill river-thanks) and start scrubbing it.  After 1 minute of scrubbing the same spot she stopped...guess she got it.

It was like a nightmare/   She put the blanket back on me (not sure why - my naked ass was in the air for the last 10 minutes).  Patted me down gently and left the room.  I took a second to compose myself because I'm pretty sure at some point I was unconscious.  I dressed and went out front where she handed me a small cup of water.  I just wanted to say - Really, I'm going to need a large glass of vodka go get over what happened in there - that or, write to my friends and share. 

My first blog, so happy to be able to share my day with you.

donna