Oodles of Noodles

Never mind about ending this blog, I’m not going to let a minor speed bump in my life destroy my ability to express myself here. So let me tell you about my blog: Some of this stuff isn’t reality, so don’t go running around telling people that I’m sleeping with my boss because it’s NOT TRUE! Also, I don’t always write from my own point of view, so don’t go running around telling people that I had a sex change and that I am actually a man because it’s NOT TRUE. Finally, a lot of the stuff I write about here is brain vomit, it’s random stuff that I think about and I don’t care if you don’t care what I think about. If you don’t care what I think, then quit reading my blog and don’t come back!

I spoiled it and so now it must end. Perhaps you will find another of my blogs and be able to enjoy my writing there. Catch you on the flip side.

FIN

It started with dishonesty and truth is where it ends. I’ll skip the story because now everyone knows it and I’ll cut right to the chase: I’m proud of myself because I told the truth and now I can move on with my life. I encourage everyone else to do the same.

*I deleted the original post because we all need to move passed it. If you can’t do that, then I’m sure you can get one of the printed copies that are now in circulation. Enjoy it!

Cuz It’s Late and Your Momma Don’t Know…

It’s a big game, life. You play for fun at first, then you get too far in and you act way too serious. Toward the end of it, you finally realize that you’ve been too serious and you lighten up again. What happens if you don’t go through that serious phase, though? Are you better off? Do you just keep living the dream and never lose touch with who you are? OR are you worse off? Do you miss that whole growing up phase where you learn how to distingush between times when you need to be totally serious and times when you need to let go a little more? Do you need to know the difference though? Does it really matter? Because one day, no one is going to remember you or your personality. You might be talked about and people will tell stories about you, but the ones telling the stories won’t remember exactly how it happened or be able to do it justice and people will form their own opinions about you without really understanding who you are and where you’re coming from. It’s sad to thnk about it, but they won’t ever know you. So while you’re here, pretend like it won’t matter and just be you because in all actuality, it won’t. So don’t forget who you are and let people exerience your true personality while they can. One Love -M

He doesn’t want to know the truth. She dangles it in front of his face. He ignores it. She flaunts it. He waits for her to change. She keeps cheating. They don’t get along, they bring each other down. For some reason, they stay together. I don’t agree with it and sometimes my mouth runs wild, but for the most part I just keep quiet. It’s the most disfunctional relationship I’ve ever seen. I’ll never understand or agree with it, but sometimes it’s better to keep your opinions to yourself.

Oodles of Noodles

I’m making my way over to my favorite place. I gotta get my body movin’, shake the stress away.

It’s a typical Saturday night: I’m usually an hour late to meet the girls…We park the car in the lower garage and walk a block to my favorite place, Last Supper Club…We have a little too much fun for a few hours, then make our way across the street to the hot dog guy…There are usually some interesting characters hanging out by the hot dog stand and they keep us entertained while we enjoy our food and a bottle of water. After all is said and done, we climb into our car and head to grab some food or roll out to an after-party.

I may have left a few things out…Did I mention that the guy that works at the door, Luke, it a great kisser. No matter how much of a player I know he is, I still have a little weak spot in my spine for him. Then, there are the unfortunate guys that dance with me. And by dance, I mean fully clothed, body grinding, simulated sex that is called dance because there’s a full room of people and music so loud that it changes the rhythm of your heart beat. They try to ask for my phone number, but I always find a way to sneak off without a digit dropping. Aside from the guys, the girls are hot too. By hot, I mean bitchy and by girls, I mean whores. Some random girl threatens to kick my ass at least once during the night. By once, I mean repeatedly until I have to leave the club for fear that I will be beat like a pinata. I’m not a fighter, I’m a lover. The funny thing is, I go back every Saturday for more…

Last night at the hot dog stand we met some interesting guys…like Decker soft coat, he was wearing a cashmere coat at a club. Hmmm…lame. He preferred to be called Decker soft rod…I said “He must use a lot of lotion.” OUCH. Then, there was his loser friend who’s name I didn’t even catch, not that i wanted to know it at all. The only way to describe him is with the phrase douche bag. Then, along come some nice Air Force men. By nice, I mean idiotic and by men, I mean assholes. Well, there was one guy, Blair - the only sober one, that was very nice. His friends should have been taking notes. I guess some people are just born with class and others are not.

Another day, another dollar. Another wish left ungranted. I just hope he realizes that I’m not the kind of person who will sit around and wait for someone. I’m starting to get over the whole thing and I think he’s just starting to get into it. We’ll see if I’m still interested when the weekend rolls around.

I thought he just bailed on us. Turns out he was told not to socialize with the other employees. Don’t they wonder why no one stays long term? Maybe it’s because they treat everyone like they’re disposable and don’t appreciate the work that gets done.

One day our office manager asked for ideas for an incentive program. I have an idea: Maybe someone should verbally express their appreciation for all of the hard work that gets done. Instead they bitch and moan about all of the work that doesn’t get completed. Mabye if we weren’t under staffed and over worked, more work would get done. Just a thought.

I can picture him standing on the corner of Pine and Broadway. He checks his watch, it’s 12:10. He kicks at a loose piece of cement on the sidewalk, then a woman walks by and asks for the time. “It’s 12:15.” She thanks him and he watches her walk away. He looks up and down the street. Maybe she’s just running late, maybe she’s lost. He calls, but she doesn’t answer. “Melissa, it’s Peter. I was just calling to see what’s going on. 12 o’clock, the corner of Pine and Broadway like we agreed. I guess I’ll see you in a few minutes.” I played the message and my stomach twisted. I’m a terrible person and I did an inexcusable thing. I feel bad, but I don’t have the balls to call and apologize. I should have called in advance and just cancelled. I should have done a lot of things, but I didn’t and now I don’t have the decency to apologize for causing another’s pain. Now it’s too late and I’m officially a jerk.