That’s Ms. MS to you…

So I’m not dead, not missing, heck not even living an exciting dating life lol. I’ve been busy being sick, getting tests and on top of it all moving.

I’m also on my stupid phone, (God bless instant access technology on demand). So this post will be kinda short as I’m waiting for Cable One to get off their asses and hook up my internet between the hours of inconvenient and idiotically late on only the second Thursday of every other odd numbered month.

As the title probably suggests, since my last post I’ve been diagnosed. After an ambulance trip, an er visit, multiple MRI’s and a spinal tap; the doctors have found enough to confirm their suspicions. I have lesions in the brain, a few on the spine and the affirmative was a positive cerebral spinal fluid sample.

I found out on Monday and it still has not sunk in. “You have multiple sclerosis” uh huh……. yeah, OK was something of my reply. “Less than half a million people in the US have it” uh huh, yeah great, so am I supposed to feel special or something? “There is no cure, we can only hope to slow down its progression” ohhh ok, so I might have to figure out how to accesorize a cane and still make it in the shark infested dating scene…. great.

He handed me 10 pounds of stuff to read, a script for legal speed and muscle relaxants and told me to study and chose my therapy. Woohoo I get to chose What poison I wish to inject myself with on a daily basis for the rest of my life! I feel like I won the lottery!

So yeah, a bit sarcastic here. Like I said I haven’t even come to terms with it. At times I’m upset, indifferent, relieved or like today just angry and pissed.

So That’s where I am right now. Waiting for internet in my new place and angry at the moment. Trying to figure out when in God’s name I can feel normal enough to go out and have fun, cause Lord knows I need it.

Soundtrack to My Life

Anyone who knows me can tell you that there are 2 things that I associate highly time and time again with recollections.  Food and music.  I recall major and minor life changing events from these two things.

I often joke that I need a movie soundtrack dubbed overhead everywhere I go playing my own personal soundtrack to my life.  The ironic and yes, perhaps somewhat psychotic thing is in my own head there is.  I just always thought music along with other arts has always been able to express the poetic beauty and tragedy of life so much more eloquently then I ever could.

Tonight driving a song popped up on my playlist and took me back.  I’ll get to that in a moment, but suddenly I realized I do have a soundtrack to my life.  Its been built over the years and is numerous gigabytes worth of melodic expressions.  Each one tied to specific moments, feelings and forever will be associated with such.  So tonight, we revisit a few of them.

The reason spurring tonight’s post:

Obadiah Parker- Hey Ya

I heard this song before Mr. Big, but it was never associated with anything.  Now suddenly I am transported back to his house, eating breakfast; bacon and pancakes.  He always made the most amazing pancakes, he has a love affair with breakfast, lol.  It was nearing the end of our relationship, but things weren’t bad, it was one of the few days where we got to spend the entire night and day together.  I woke up on the wrong side of the bed that morning, but at that moment, in the comfortable silence of breakfast while this song played, it didn’t matter.  I was content and full, those were good pancakes.

Nat King Cole- When I Fall in Love

I had been dating Harry or Hairy (whichever you prefer) for 2 years, we were planning a wedding.  That in itself is a long tragic story.  I was sitting on the couch in our place, trying to find what I now realize was MY perfect wedding song.  See this song was not Harry at all, yet I adore this song.  I had listened to it about 15 times on repeat knowing this was my song, wanting it to be “The” song.  Getting lost in the words it was then that I made the first realization:  I could never use it with him, it would not be, nor ever would be “our song”.  Because I was not, nor would I ever be in love with him….. The lyrics rang more true at that moment than any other time I have ever listened to it, yet it always brings me back to that day.

Sir Mix-A-Lot – Baby Got Back

Haha gotta throw in the hilarious for a moment.  This song recalls a few events.  I remember “cruising” with my best friend of almost 10+ years in high school and this song would come on, oh the insanity that followed, hehe…. I was sworn to secrecy on most of it though :p  But because of it this next memory was made.

It was the first time I was working a professional line in the kitchen.  It’s a hard place for a woman, you automatically are on the disadvantage and are subjected to sexual harassment of levels that I can’t even begin to tell you.  Until you prove your worth.  I’ve hit guys, thrown pans at them for grabbing my ass, it’s where I earned my sailors mouth, a lot of my hard-nosed, fast paced, no-nonsense professionalism, had to drink whiskey at 3 am in the morning to start off the day with the head chef and other insanity that eventually in one way or another proved I was a force to be reckoned with. 

One of those times was with a cocky, womanizing, oogling other chef who thought I was nothing but another stupid female from the sticks.  Somehow a bet was made that I didn’t know that song, let along could sing it.  I quipped back that not only could I, but I could also do it while working 2 sections at once and not skip a beat.  Needless to say, most would pay to be on the line that night to watch me rapping “Baby Got Back” and working the grill and pantry.  Thank God it was a smaller line & for all those late night cruises, for I didn’t miss a beat and cranked out perfect execution on every fire that came in and as stupid as it was, from that moment on out I had the respect of every man in that kitchen.

Joe Cocker- With a Little Help From My Friends

This is one of the very first records aside from Billy Joel’s Glass Houses that I vividly remember listening to over and over again.  So much so that to this day I hear songs off of the record and I visualize the record covers clear as day.  I remember sitting in our Eames style chair in front of the record player, in the classroom that was converted into a kitchen (we lived in a huge 3 story brick school we were renovating) surrounded by chalk boards, tons of pure unfiltered light and the voice of Joe Cocker.  My legs over the side of the chair, my head languidly off the other side, the stereo so loud my father would come up from his workshop downstairs by our gym and yell at me.  Which was hypocritical because he always insisted I have a good upbringing in music and gave me the records to begin with, haha.

Brad Paisley, Dolly Parton- When I Get Where I’m Going

My ipod has a weird way of freaking out at opportune moments.  It had been a really rough few months, my Papa was sick, couldn’t walk, in the hospital for months after being perfectly healthy.  Another family member at the time had just died and I had made the 10 hour trek to Wyoming for the funeral.  A week after my return back to Boise we got the call where I had to tell my Papa how much I loved him but it was ok for him to let go.  After a 13+ hour drive back to Wyoming we were on the return trip home from the funeral.  I was sick and tired and driving a rental mini van full of family back up this way when at the spot where my Papa worked for the state, the spot where he would always stop and call to tell the family he was exactly ___ hours from being home (and was always right within minutes) my ipod freaked out, shuffled songs sporadically, stopped and started playing this song.  The van erupted in silent tears and we all knew that our Papa was there still with us. 

Queen- Bohemian Rhapsody

So I was going through a very dark difficult time and to cheer me up one of my friends and her hubby drug me out.  We ended up at some weird ass dive bar with some of their friends playing darts.  The kind of bar where if you aren’t a regular they look at you funny.  Well we took command of the jukebox and after 5 or 6 shots and quite a few beers later this song came on.  What happened was our entire group then standing up and doing impromptu acting/ karaoke to the entire bar with this song.  Which then turned into the entire bar singing.  It was one of the more hilarious, albeit I’m so glad a video camera wasn’t present moments of my life.  To this day we still joke about reenacting it.

I could go on and on…. but for my last song I’m going to give you my theme song.  Everyone has their own personal theme song.  The one that opens the movie and closes out the credits.  This, this is mine:

Billy Joel- You May Be Right

Spinal Tap & Bird Collections

Its been awhile my lovelies.  My apologies in advance, this is not my usual post of bush whacking, cock sizing, love bashing ramblings.  No, no tonight for my return post we take a small detour to the dark side of myself, the serious realistic side.  I’m going to stray from my commentary on dating and lust and discontentment with said actions.  Tonight, tonight you are going to get a raw, emotional uncensored peek at myself.  Some internal introspection if you will.  See here is the hypocrisy of myself, for as off the cuff and colorful as I am, I am also just as even keeled, level-headed and down to earth.  So if you are here sheerly for the amusement factor, look away now from the mess that is to follow, shield your eyes and come back in a few days after the emotional blood shed has lapsed.  I promise, it will only hurt for a second :p

As my last post alluded to I have been under the weather and I needed some time for recuperation, hence the lack of posting.  However its much, much more than that.  Nothing in my life is ever clear-cut and dry.

I’m sick, I take countless pills a day trying to manage all my symptoms, yet am still constantly ill.  Not just your normal “oh I have a cold” sick.  The kind where I have debilitating headaches that alter my functioning unless controlled by high doses of daily anti-seziure medication.  The kind where there are more days than not where I don’t wake up feeling a rattle in my chest, a sniffle in my nose or butterflies in my stomach.  The kind where I am left sheerly and utterly exhausted, all day every day.  Not just tired or overworked, but to the point where exhaustion and pain overcome me on a daily basis and sometimes I simply can’t go on; even after getting more than enough sleep and taking an easy relaxing day.  The kind where if I do get an actual cold or flu it leaves me unable to function at all.

I am 29….29 years old and for some reason my body has betrayed me. It has been slowly been occurring over the last few years with new symptoms creeping up.  It took the doctors over 9 months to get my headaches to a manageable point so I wasn’t laying in bed every day crying in pain.  4 months ago they figured out that my immune system has been compromised and is not functioning properly; something has altered its normal functioning.  All this time I encounter countless battles in which I feel beyond miserable, yet must find the strength to go on, convince myself I’m not dying and resign myself to the fact that hopefully soon we’ll have an answer.

Then 3 weeks ago I started to intermittently lose my vision.  At first I would just have blurry episodes which I know are not prescription related as I’ve been to the optometrist.  Then it changed into periods of time/entire days where I’ve lost the ability to see out of an eye. 

As stupid as this sounds, I didn’t think too much of it then. It was simply annoying as all hell.  I’ve also been battling 2 colds during this time and more focused on those.  That was until I started to have an episode with my right hand.  I’ve lost over 50% of my strength in it, lost the majority of my finer motor skills and essentially lost most of its nerve function, coupled with crippling pain.  Which if you know me & what I do, it sucks big time…. my hands are the essence of my livelihood.

I went in thinking it was carpal tunnel and I think they did too, until they essentially stabbed my hand and I couldn’t feel it.  After a few more repeated stabbings and what not the barrage began.  Had my vision had been ok lately? “Ummm no” What about your speech? “Actually come to think of it, I’ve been slurring words a bit and that’s not like me…..”  Feet?  “Cold and numb and tingly like always” How is your balance lately? ”Well….” and that’s when the tests started.

7 vials of blood, 25 x rays later and being scheduled for an EMG, MRI & Spinal tap…..

“Possible multiple sclerosis”

And now I play the testing waiting game.

My body is betraying me, I’m not even 30 and here is the very realistic, unsexy side of me: I dropped so many things at work today I almost wound up in tears.  What I was able to do I was still in such miserable deep internal pain that I broke down and called the doctor for a script, only to find out she is out until Monday.  I ended up slicing my hand open yet didn’t realize it until I was dripping blood on the table.  Around 3:00 I was so frustrated, so exhausted, so done with it all (this is how it gets everyday) that I had to stop, go sit down and try to stop myself from breaking down.

As awful as it sounds, a concrete diagnosis of MS at this point would be a small relief.  There is no cure, it is debilitating and in the long run a very scary, “unsexy” disease.  But my body is already betraying me on a daily basis and continuing with a rapid pace.  The last 3 months of Mr. Big’s & my relationship I went from sick to beyond sick and I was miserable.  He accounted my misery to him, when it was to my deteriorating condition, but then again he also couldn’t handle it and left me while I was literally on my sick-bed.  I am sick and tired and in pain constantly and above all scared…..

Because since then it has progressed, I have a good week thrown in every once in a while, compounded by worse upon worse weeks.  So at this point I need a diagnosis, any correct diagnosis- so we can start a correct treatment plan. So I can have a few more good weeks thrown in amidst the bad, so I can not feel like a train has run over my body and that I have full control over it again.  So I can feel like a normal almost 30-year-old hot sexy singleite (whatever the hell that feels like, lol).

So bring on the MRI & spinal tap, I can’t say that I am exactly looking forward to them, but I am embracing them the best I can.

In an ending thought to the unsexy side of myself, I recall a statement my younger cousin once made to me upon learning that I collect bird ornaments: (stop laughing, or when I do feel better, I will kick your ass ) “It’s a good thing you have someone (which I did at the time), because no one would ever want to date you once they find your collection of these.”

My dear, dear cousin….. I think my love of birds is probably the last thing that should concern me about scaring off anyone wanting to get involved with me anymore, lol.  That is just a small needle in the haystack at this point.

A Post in Photos

So Yes, there has been a lack of posts for a few days.  So let me explain myself in photos:

See the last few days I’ve been feeling like this:

and

If you remember I wasn’t feeling all that great about a week and a half ago.  Sadly it never got better and due to having:

Only not as extreme, but along the same lines.  So in theory with all the colds going around I probably should have been wearing one of these:

Then I might have perhaps not gotten cold on top of cold that takes me weeks to fend off All the while in the meantime I’m faced with this road map:

 So when I’m not swinging to the left, I can be found dutifully trying to lean to the right to hopefully aid in a speedier recovery.  Coupled with plenty of:

and

and

(Wait, no, no…I think that is supposed to be after I get myself better.  Not during.)

and tissues and water and the usual cold/flu remedy whatnot.  So in the meantime, while I am trying to get my ravaged immune system back into check and under control,  I apologize but you will only find me in one place (other than hanging out in the left lane to pay the bills and whatnot).  And that is here:

P.S. Isn’t that the most awesome amazing bed you have ever seen?  I would literally kill for it, since I don’t have 15 grand to shell out on it.  But my God, I am in love.  Sheer and utter adoring love….

Love is Complicated

Barney, one of my exes loves me.  He always has and probably always will.  Every day, every single day he reminds me of this.  He greets me each day with my own cheerful heartfelt moniker for me and every night he tells me he loves me before I fall asleep.  He has complete unwavering, 100% devotional love for me that I can’t return to him. 

Insert guilty pleasure music to write by:

See Love…. love is, well I’m going to steal the words that Mr. Big once told me when I asked him what he thought love was: “Love is Complicated”.  At the time, I was a bit upset with his answer.  I thought it was a cop-out to dodge bigger issues and perhaps it was.  However, now I understand the reality in this statement because any more I’m not even sure what that dreaded little 4 letter word means.

Just defining the word itself present problems, you look up the word in the dictionary and it directs you to feelings of adoration, attachment, affection, devotion.  You look up those words and they direct you back to the same synonyms used to define love.  It seems like one huge vicious circle to me.  So the word itself seems to be open to interpretation based on the user.  I love seafood, doesn’t mean I’d want to eat it everyday.  He loved me but not enough to fight.  My dog loves his kong but it doesn’t love him back.

When you try to delve into the nuts and bolts of the emotion itself…. well you know books have been written on the subject.  We have biblical love, philosophical love, the difference between what men think love is and what women want it to be, the tv and movie versions of unattainable love.  Any more I really don’t think anyone knows what it is supposed to be. We just go through life half assing it, glazing across the surface of it in an attempt to get by without seriously considering what it is.

I know at one time I thought I knew what it was.  I thought that loving someone was an unconditional process in which you accepted their greatest strengths and their greatest weaknesses all the same.  You oversaw the small and large-ish plights that in essence make us all human and you as a team; as a couple worked together towards finding and striking that inner harmonious balance with each other.  All the while strengthening your individuality as well as your partners and encouraging growth as a couple. 

I’d give that to my partners the best I could and perhaps this is where my downfall always occurred, because I expected my definition of love back in return.  But instead they would give me whatever their definition of love was and it never could match what I thought love was supposed to be.  I’ve actually become so accustomed to this that I actually now accept that as a fact and built it into my definition of love.  Accepting that their love would not be the same as mine, but taking whatever half assed version they gave to me because in my mind as long as I kept working on it; as long as I kept trying to progress towards my definition of love than it wouldn’t matter….

So I learned from Ross & Wookie & Harry & Barney & Mr. Big, & all the others over time that my definition of love seems to be a crock of shit that has disappointed me time and time again. As a result,  I’m not sure what love is anymore, perhaps other than a complicated and a time-consuming process that eats up the very essence of my heart and soul and leaves me with less and less each time.  So Love I salute you…

I’m not sure if you could call me jaded or not.   I’m sure love is something that exists and a few lucky people out there experience it and find it.  What it is to me though is something that needs to be seriously re-evaluated and re-examined to figure out what I think it is, because my definitions just aren’t working for me anymore. 

So my question is: What is it to you?

Tags: Boise, Idaho, jaded, Love, relationships, romance, singlegirlboise, Treasure Valley

Sunday Mail Bag & an Anniversary!

Hello again my Lovelies, after an eventful week it is once again time for the Sunday Weekly Mail Bag.  As always you are welcomed and encouraged to direct your burning questions, statements, griefs or whatnot to either my email: singlegirlboise@gmail.com, or feel free to leave them on my Facebook page or in a comment. 

This week I was inundated with 2 questions inparticular.  So as a result I’ll tackle these two accordingly.

The first was the ever so pointed: Who are you?

Ohhh shoot, you got me with that one my friends!  How did you ever guess that just by simply asking I would give up my identity completely for everyone to know?  Man, I really didn’t know it was so obvious!

Ok here is the deal, for those who know me through stumbling across this blog, its pretty easy to put 2 and 2 together.  I give away enough of myself in the details that it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure it out if you know me.  To those who don’t know me though or are now just joining us, sure here’s a bit more about me:

I’m actually a pretty laid back gal, who as has been alluded at, is the ex of a  boy who loved the fuzzie wuzzies more than her thus breaking her (now mending) heart and wow…. I just realized its our monthly break up anniversary today; Awwwww…….. our monthiversary! what exactly do you do on these occasions?  I mean aren’t anniversaries supposed to be occasions for celebration?

Anyways and being thrown into that singledom is how the blog all started.

I love music, I love the smell of rain, I hate soggy bread and have a very, very sarcastic dry wit to me.  I love sports, beer, and heels.  I work too much, do too much introspection and never get enough sleep.  I find no patience in ignorance, yet am incredibly tolerant despite the circumstances.  I am stubborn, strong-willed, yet have been called incredibly sweet and yes…I wear my heart on my sleeve.  I’m not ENTIRELY the bitch I present myself to be at times, I just expect a great deal of people as was done with myself, and if that is so wrong, well than honestly I really don’t give a hoot. 

I also love chocolate and fall, but really, what else do you need to know?  Placing a face and name behind all this random crap does nothing more than, well nothing more than what I just did unless you know me.  Curiosity kills the cat my dears.  And nobody likes a dead, cold pussy.

Second question: Wanna fuck? Have sex? etc……..

Hmmmmm, how can I tell you this in the most tactful way possible in which that you have approached me?  Actually I’m not sure words would do it justice or exactly get the point across…. so here, here is my reply:

Ok I’ll admit it, I’ve had a long, long, hard day.  But honestly, I could’ve used a bit more substance to this weeks barrage of questions.  I’m not always catty, promise.

Cinderella in the Black Boots

Chapter 2 from last nights post.  Once again I have to get myself in the mood, the right frame of mind; so for one last time we will be revisiting the sultry grooves of JJ Grey & Mofro. This is off his latest album “Georgia Warhorse”; an amazing album as is an all around amazing artist.  I swear I’m not getting paid to plug him, just infatuated

So this chapter is about ruggedly handsome guy, aka rancher boy. See all during the nights escapades that were chronicled in the previous post, rancher boy and I had been playing a ferocious game of cat and mouse.

It all started when at one point he sat at the table in front of me. Now realizing that there were no female companions on his arm that night, I crossed my legs, let my gaze linger on him a tad bit too long. He turned and caught my gaze. Have you ever had one of those moments where there is a penetrating electricity between you and another person and the rest of the world disappears for that split second? This was one of mine; he locked eyes with mine and slowly flashed a sly smile, all the while continuing to carry on his conversation with his friend. In that second I melted.  I flashed my come hither smile, dropped my gaze and went back to my beer.

It was a series of moments like that all night. He and I moving around the venue, locking glances, flirtatious smiles, but never connecting. Both of us teasing the other. That coy little game of connecting and disappearing, who would be the one to break down in their game and make a move?

I hadn’t seen him in while and had started to give up hope when out of the corner of my eye I saw him walking past me, I smiled and locked eyes with him. As he passed he gently ran his hand across my arm.  Electricity, tingles, butterflies. I waited a few minutes before I got up and followed him outside.

“Fancy meeting you out here” I said. “Imagine that” he replied. We did the occasional small talk, names, what do you do, where you from. “Well its a good thing I found you” I said reaching in my pocket “because I’ve been waiting to give this to you all night” as I slipped him my phone number, allowing my hand to linger just slightly too long. “I’m glad you did too” he replied and I turned around and walked back inside.

10 minutes later he found me again. They always do. Mmmm there is something about him, something so delicious, the blue plaid shirt, the cute scruff on his face, the messed up, I just rolled out of bed yet I know he worked on it hair, the shoes…… wait WTF?

Here I digress…. Some one please, please for the life of me explain to me what in the world these damn things are. Seriously? Ok, I love my shoes. I know guys don’t have to love their shoes as much, but these things…..

I mean, yes I understand what they are and what they do.  But to a concert?  Really?  Ok well one major guffaw isn’t that bad right?

 So we talk and before I know it I we are dancing, My arms around his neck, his hands on my hips.  That boy had some damn fine moves too.  His hands moving my hips to the beat of the music, moving in time with mine, teasingly tracing under my shirt along my lower back.  His lips lock with mine….

Ok it wasn’t bad.  But it wasn’t great either.  At that moment though the dancing skills made up for it.  But kissing, kissing is important, I love to kiss.  Love to lightly bite my partners lower lip, you have to be able kiss…. it is the stepping-stones for so many other delicious things.  It is the way I love to wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night (not that I’m looking for a happily forever after at a bar, I’m not that stupid) but kissing, kissing is essential to me.

So the song stops and he looks at me.  “Whats that look for?” I ask him “What look?” He says.  “That one right now, just like the look you gave me when you were sitting at that table earlier, you are awfully good at that look”  He laughs, “like I’m a professional or something huh?” I nod in agreement.  “Well your look” he said his hand lightly, nervously resting on my lower back “your look, your eyes can tell a whole story”. ‘And what story is that?” I ask, because honestly I’m not sure…. what? Do I look horny? Tired? Do you see visions of a Stephen King novel flashing in my pupils? What?  “You know exactly what”  he says… I’m still not sure what story my eyes are telling, but apparently it tells a lot of them because outside of my ass and smile, my eyes are the #1 thing guys mention when they aren’t douche bags looking for just sex. 

The conversation continues, just basic stuff not worth mentioning until he says, yeah I’m currently working on my bachelors.  WHOA buddy, lets back the cart up a second.  I am now mentally kicking myself in the ass. “Ohhhh…. and how old are you?” I say….

CRASH, BANG, POW! Son of a bitch… I forgot a very important vital question that I should have asked right off the bat.  I knew he was of age, he had on the yellow drinking age wrist band.  DAMNIT GIRL! DAMNIT….. turned out he was 4 years younger than me.  Some of you are probably saying, what?  No big deal.  But right then at that moment, I felt like a cougar and oh so very very old.  Its perfectly fine for men to date younger girls, its what they do.  But the other way around, it just feels weird….

We finish our conversation with some more small talk and me telling him (10 minutes before midnight mind you) that Cinderella has to leave the ball now.  But if he found my glass slipper to use that paper in his pocket.

I got in the car and banged my head against the steering wheel.  Ok, is age that big of a difference?  I mean the guy loves Tom Waits and for him to bring that up earned major points with me.  On top of owning and adoring actual records, more points.  He seemed intelligent, charming, and very very adorable.  So 4 years younger, whats the big deal right? Sigh….

Needless to say he texted me an hour later telling me he was glad Cinderella gave him her number and he found her slipper.  I was sleeping at the time so I didn’t respond right away.  4 years younger…… still weighing heavily on my mind. I need my own JJ Grey, *swoon*, cause my coach just turned into a pumpkin.

Tags: Boise, Cinderella, Cougar, Dating, Idaho, JJ Grey, kissing, Love, Treasure Valley

Incest and the Uprising of the Back Alley Church

As promised last night, I am going to recount last nights *ahem* adventures at the JJ Grey & Mofro concert last night at the Knitting Factory .

So with all great stories lets start at the beginning. There I was, flying solo, so I show up a bit early, take my seat at the end of the bar, get myself a Fat Tire and wait for the music to start.

Flash forward a bit because nothing interesting really happens but a humorous inner monologue in my head as I people watch; taking mental note of how many damn couples that were there and how much better the place looks in the dark. So the opening act starts and the place slowly starts to fill up and an older woman and a mid 30′s guy come and stand next to me, which I really don’t think much of considering that now all the seating is gone.

Ohh my, I should have reconsidered the situation right then and there, but you see at that point and time I had spotted this ruggedly cute guy with his friend and I was visually scoping him out to see if he was headed back to a table which therein would lie his murderous girlfriend ready to stab my eyes out with an ice pick for merely giving her man the once over. Ok… it was more like 5 times over in that first glance, what can I say?

This is when I lost track of ruggedly hot guy because older woman next to me starts talking to me. She introduces her son, they start talking about how they drove up here just for this concert and have been pounding it all day; as if I couldn’t tell….

Wow, I’m not even sure what exactly to tell you about in that next fateful hour where Mom and Pup latched themselves on to myself and wanted a taste of my succulent, succulent self. Lets just say, it is not very often when I am taken off guard, last night, I was knocked off my fucking bar stool and kicked in the teeth taken off guard. Which is almost fitting since I’m almost sure the mom was missing some of her teeth.

Needless to say they bought me a beer, ok I’m broke and not a total bitch, I’ll talk to you for a few. I can’t even remember how things went from “Oh hey so you like JJ?” to “So whats the biggest cock you’ve had inside of you?” Wow… Ok here, I am going to give you the highlights but I am going to forewarn you, this is very graphic.

He gives me the one up and down…. “Damn you have an amazing, amazing body. I can imagine the things I want to do to that body” he slurred this as he slid one arm around my waist and his hand up my back. Right about at this point he also said ouch, because the 4 inch heel of my boot landed squarely in the middle of his foot.

“Ohhh, I’m sorry, I simply can’t walk in these….”

“That’s ok, so do you spit or swallow?” Wow…. I say, ummm to which he immediately responds with ” Favorite position? Take it in the ass? Biggest cock you’ve ever had? Can you show me with your hands?” HOLY CRAP… I am now looking for my jacket to run, mind you this literally happened in 5 seconds, 5 seconds.  That is when mom interjected with “hey baby girl, why don’t you come over after the concert, smoke a bowl and we have wild and crazy sex”? To which Junior is now grabbing me by the shoulders because I am trying to make my way through the sea of people says “You know that saying? Incest is the best? They weren’t lying….”

At this point, at this point he coughs, and burps and you guess it… pukes at my feet, which luckily I at last got enough room to step out-of-the-way from. I mean I cannot even begin to tell you the nightmare that was this scenario for an entire hour. I at one point went to the restroom and was standing there trying to figure out how to watch the concert without being killed by these psychos.

Well now, here is how I got rid of them, because when he was puking I just so happened to turn right into the arms of super drunk trashed girl. One look at her and I knew she was gone, she threw her arms around me, blubbering about how she needed to talk. Ohhh good yes, “Hey, I’m really really sorry, but my friend really needs me now….”

Ok lost mom and son, now I’m with drunk girl. Who in a matter of minutes I find out has a cheating hubby, who is hitting on other girls (I wanted to shake her and tell her, well honey don’t wear sweat pants and a baggy t-shirt out and maybe he wouldn’t, but my bleeding heart syndrome kicked in), they were buying a house they couldn’t afford, she works too much, makes too little, blah blah blah…. Ok, lost the people who would probably skin me alive to play counseler, alrighty I can deal with this, she probably won’t kill me.

So I try to calm her down, because she is literally, physically crying on my shoulder, I know her entire life story now, she won’t listen to any of my sound logic or advice. I lovingly tell her she needs to do what is best for her…. nope. Tell her to talk to him work it out….nope. Tell her that its going to be ok, everything will be fine….nope. At this point I am genuinely concerned for this stranger because she is beyond just drunk, she is dangerously trashed and damnit…. damnit heart, I can’t leave her until I make sure she is ok and on her way home safe, because she is talking about driving and can’t even sit straight.

Ok…. I have tried every thing in the book to calm her down and she just isn’t. Ohhh wait, no… its my last card, the one that I save for those special moments. Now let me preface this with I’m not a religious person, I don’t attend church, have a very varied religious upbringing, but nothing formal and my beliefs on God are somewhat to be debated.

So I lifted her head from my shoulder and grasping her cheeks, I looked her in the eye “Do you believe in God?” (Holy crap I can’t believe I’m doing this…) she blinked her eyes a few times and the tears stopped. She choked out a yes and her head stopped weaving. I took her hands and her sobs quieted…. and there, there on the Knitting Factory smoking patio I gave the first sermon of what I shall dub “The Back Alley Church of the When You Need It”….
“Then you know honey, you know, the Lord, the Lord will only give you as much as you can handle”. “He has an ultimate plan for you, and you, you need to have faith in the Lord and what his ultimate goal is for you and your family and above all believe in him and his ultimate love.” I went on and on until I realized she was actually listening as were the other people around me. Listening to a skinny girl in knee-high black boots and skin-tight jeans talk about God.

“I do believe and its going to be ok”. “Amen” arose from the bystanders and I said, “Good, let’s get you inside and get you cleaned up and a taxi’ I said as I took her hand and got her back inside.

And this is how my crazy life goes, because I haven’t even gotten to the good part. The part about the ruggedly handsome stranger and I realize this post, this post is insanely long. So that my dears, that shall be tomorrows part 2.

Tags: Boise, cheating, Church, cock, Concert, drunk, God, Idaho, incest, JJ Grey, Knitting Factory, Mofro, Sex, single girl in boise, singlegirl, Treasure Valley

I’m a Tease & JJ Grey

So I’m a tease…. I’ll admit it and I’m about to do it right now.  See I just got back from the most amazing concert at the Knitting Factory with the most bizarre circumstances ever. 

The concert was fantastic, the opening band was awesome, from SLC, very Indie with a blues rock vibe that got so into their music.  The Bass and guitar and drums all harmonized beautifully and it was just perfectly executed.  That was until JJ Grey & Mofro took the stage.  Swoon!  I want to marry this man.   I was lucky enough to meet the drummer from Mofro- really bad ass guy, all around I cannot say enough about this concert and this band.  Amazing.  So while I tease with you the highlight for tomorrow nights post sit back and enjoy one of the great songs from this dynamic group.  It is well worth the listen:

Mmmmhmmmm this so happens to be the song that Rancher Boy and I got down to tonight after a long game of cat and mouse across the venue.  But that… that entire story is for tomorrow.  The penetrating glances, the coy smiles thrown across the dance floor, his touch on my arm as he walked past me, the paper in my pocket all night…. hehe

As well as the stories behind the mother and son team who cornered me and started hitting on me, but were buying me beer.  Which they seemed nice at first, until I realized they were leeches, until the topic of a bowl and sex and cock came up….

Oh and the puking and how I resorted to really really trashed drunk girl fighting with her husband then I had bleeding heart syndrome.  Yes, yes, then there was douche bag guy who I think was trying to be a fatter version of the lead singer of Staind and how he grabbed my ass and then tried to help me with my purse.

Oh and lets not forget my rant about how people, people, YOU NEED TO TREAT BARTENDERS WITH RESPECT! They are swamped, they will get to you when they can, there was 5 people ahead of you, don’t holler at them, they will just make you wait longer, and for God’s Sake TIP! And tip decently! 

But all that, all that is for tomorrow night, hehe because I currently am exhausted, have to work in the morning and have much, MUCH to reflect on.

Sex on the Dance Floor

I was talking to my Fiona today.  Fiona, my lovely dear Fiona, she is my partner in crime, my sister from another mister, my confidant and a lil pissed that she hasn’t made an appearance on the blog yet.  (Sorry love) She is part of my family, she is my best friend and when we get together we cause entirely too much trouble

Ohh my Fiona, this post is for you, because I’ve had a bug bite me.  You know this bug well…  Fiona, my dear I know you are out there reading right now, so let me get you in the mood while you read this post, because in 3 weeks we are going to rip up the town….

For everyone else out there, let me fill you in.  Fiona is a belly dancer, takes pole dancing classes, classes in tease, she can move her hips in ways that God never intended her to move her hips.  She is to dance what gasoline is to a car- they were meant to be together.  Now…. get the 2 of us together on a dance floor and men have literally had jaws drop, heads spin and trip over themselves.  We have been told on more than one occasion that it looks like we  are having sex on the dance floor. We are the girls that literally get out there when no one else is and get the party started and show everyone else up. 

Now we know this, we know that we are oozing and dripping the essence of sex.  They see two hot women, seductively close to each other, hands on each other, dancing in ways with moves that sometimes are generally reserved for the bedroom.  We know the power behind this, we fully know what we are doing as soon as we step out on to the dance floor.  We are unleashing that inner sexual beast in each of us and letting every single person in the place know it. 

However this is where it gets interesting…. because we know the exact response it gets. One of two things always happens, the first is that we are assumed that we are a couple, which depending on our mood and who is asking, sometimes we play off.  The other is if the man is brave enough to hit on us after he finds out we are not; but they never get anywhere, because we are simply there to dance and the sad thing is in that kinda setting the only thing that anyone has on their mind is sex.  Which is why we either pretend we have boyfriends at the clubs or go dance at the local gay bar.  Now I suppose if someone came up and actually tried to make a genuine attempt to not be a douche bag, that might be a different story…but that has yet to happen when all we push is our sexiness, lol.

So, yes my love- since you have left I haven’t been out to pound the dance floors without you, it has been months, MONTHS….  I adore the group, I adore the movies, the concerts, the sports, the dinners, etc.  The appeal of China Blue or the Balcony or Roddies just isn’t quite the same, without you.  But my hips need their partner in crime to drive the men into a frenzy. 

So in 3 weeks…. 3 weeks guess what is on the agenda.  Because my kitchen just isn’t cutting it any more.  And I tell you what.  If my adorable doorman tells me that there are “tons of people’ inside and there once again isn’t…. well crappy ass free champagne or not, well…. ahhh you got me… I’ll just go back out and let him flirt with me some more.