Sheer Panic

There is a fine line between nervous energy and panic. I thrive on stress - something I discovered the first week of working in my profession. I'm addicted to endorphins, I suppose. Cute boys tend to flip the switch to panic, however. Realizing I might ACTUALLY hangout with this boy - the fact it might ACTUALLY happen - has me freaking out. Take the onset of wedding season, add a two week period I will be out of the country- unable to control anything, toss in a cute boy who is tall and mysterious and BAM. Sweaty palms, tight chest...full on freak out.
Confidence is a funny thing. Wine helps, however.

Saturday Morning Edition

Last night was monumental. Why? We found the best. bar. ever. Okay, maybe not EVER but pretty damn good for a "stumble upon". Fuzzy tvs playing the Zers game, a bonfire in the back, a Foosball table, and PBR on draft - these are a few of my favorite things. I do believe Lucky's was the perfect setting for our Friday night. Yes, my head hurts a bit this morning. And yes, I am exhausted. And yes, I am foggy enough to start two sentences in a row with "And". But I laughed. A lot. Can you think of anything more therapeutic than an accidental great time with good people who not only inspire you to be better than you are, offer wonderful dating tips, agree to call you Rachel when appropriate, and sing whole-heartedly to Madonna in a bar full of angry men sporting unkempt beards? I enjoyed being "unapologetically myself". Something I am learning is easier said than done. Sometimes the stars align and the bitter cold drives you to enter the first door you come to.

Voila. Lucky's on Friday.

Welcome Back, Kotter!

Well, well, well. It has been a longggg ass time. Thanks Kristi. Your fabulous sense of humor and wonderful writing inspired me to "get back in the saddle".

I can't stop smiling. I've been bitten by the eewy, gooey crush bug. Very similar to a 12 year old school girl, I am on cloud nine because a boy paid attention to me. While I am aware this gross feeling goes against everything I stand for, I can't help it. HE TEXTED ME!! "He" - let's call him Fred - is gorgeous. This superficial fact alone has me all atwitter. I'm not sure we have ever really spoken in person. Maybe a passing, "hi"...but that's probably it. I can't bring myself to open my mouth around him, I get too nervous. Yes, this socially capable, self-described people person is at a loss for words because of a pretty boy. Sigh. So, how, you may ask, did we progress to texting? THANK YOU Mr. Zuckerberg. I owe you. Big time. A friend request, a few humiliating drunkbook messages, a desperate attempt to share my digits...and BAM! I am pretty sure he is petrified of my very calculated scheduling of our "hanging out". Being a gal who plans things for a living, I obviously had to have the day and time frame mapped out. In attempts to not come across psychotic, I prefaced my insanity with, "I'm an event planner - I like planning. It's sick, I know. Yes, I also like spread sheets". His response? "Yeah i'm not just FYI :)". The sad thing is the use of the smiley face did, in fact, make me grin. Sheesh, Fal. Get it together! Anyway, we are supposedly going to hangout Wednesday after he gets off work. Let's see how this pans out. I want to get into trouble. Fingers crossed.