Saturday, December 30, 2006

Pre Birthday Extravagaza!

What a great night... so much to tell if only I could remember it all...

Saturday, December 23, 2006

December 23rd... and Only One present Purchased...

And it's not even for family. My purchasing situation for December sits at the following:
  • Root canal and crown for Lacey
  • Plane ticket to England for Lacey
  • Fun new luggage for Lacey
  • Car insurance renewal for Lacey
  • Bottle of scotch for Reid.

This does not bode well for me. I am currently sitting at work and will have no time to shop before heading toward Lampasas, home of nothing to buy unless you like WalMart and western wear. I do have a gift that was purchased for someone else. I could likely part with that since said person isn't on the current gift radar... oh the holidays...

When People Read Things out of Context

When someone reads something that was not meant for them, it causes little issues. Often times when I write it is based on a conversation I had with someone or an event that occured that day...

The problem is that if I haven't talked to someone in ages, then the information that becomes blog fodder is outdated and not meant for interpretation from people who are in the current realm of Lacey. For instance... when I talk about having relations with myself... that is just a spinoff of some conversation with my former boss who lives in Iowa and is gaining weight faster that you can say cheese fries with sour cream. When I talk about someone who didn't mention me to his folks, it can be attributed to a conversation I had with Pearl about a road trip we took nearly three years ago. When I talk about Jesus liking hockey... well, that doesn't need explaining... that's just a little slice of heaven falling from the sky and creating a nice smooth sheet of ice.

I guess all said, I shouldn't have to explain myself here. If someone reads something here and feels some sort of negative energy from it... like a bad movie, an unattractive naked person, or a lime greem leisure suit... stop looking at it.

Monday, December 18, 2006

Too Messy for Desk Sex

How sad a day it is when I realized that my desk is far too messy for desk sex. The movies lead us astray with the notion that someone might actually knock everything off their desk with the intention of some passionate, primal action... but alas... it is but a lie. You see... the items on my desk are too important for me to just knock them around. Even if we are talking about some gorgeous man who is well groomed and relatively hair free... with excellent hygeine and great teeth... with a steady job and a 401k... and who loves dogs and Christmas...

And then it hits me... my work has taken some sort of strange precedence over... ummm... well... that other stuff.... or has it?

Earlier today, one of the other employees of this fine establishment asked me what I wanted for Christmas. For one fleeting moment I considered clearing my desk of papers... then I just chuckled to myself... realizing that he meant, "I am going shopping at the conservative kid store and I feel obligated to get you something... would you like lotion, a dvd or a candle?" Again though, a chuckle rose from within me... as I thought of the lotion and the candle and the cleaned off desk top... NO LACEY! Conservative kid stores don't sell that kind of lotion... they sell Oil of Olay and Ponds...

Sadly at this point I was just distracted... Off and on for the remainder of the day I weighed my options and sorted out the possible implications of each...

Throw caution to the wind, use a jersey as a pillow and get fired for sexual harrasment, but never make it to trial due to an untimely death caused by the embarassment of a coworker seeing me in all my glory...

Ask for the candle... light the candle... listen to a little jazz... be depressed thinking about how much better the desk thing would have been... put my head down to cry a little and catch my hair on fire...

Wait until my desk is cleaner to throw caution to the wind... and ask for the candle so that the smell of passion can be masked by the over the top smell of ocean breeze, though the ocean in Daytona smelled of salt and dead fish... catch my hair on fire still and then get fired...

I guess we will all have to wait for another day to sort this out. For now I am off to the gym... Can't go five days without a workout... besides I need to get in shape for the love fest or the stop drop and roll... whichever route I decide looks better...

Thursday, December 14, 2006

I'm Just a Love Machine

And I don't work for nobody but... myself...

That's right. I am alone. I would like to have someone to "work for" but alas I am bossless... at least in the love machine sense of things... Although some could say I am self-employed... but that's just inappropriate to talk about on the web.

So, yes... back to being bossless... or single... or celibate... whatever the kids are calling it these days...

It's really not so bad... okay... get real... I'm lying. If there were no repercussions, I would find a boss... I even have a great boss in mind, but there is nothing good that comes from having a boss in the long run. When you are self employed, you want the security of a boss. But when you have a boss, you want the independence of being self-employed. So what then? Perhaps it is best to be in middle management.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

He Didn't Event Tell His Parents About Me

And back then that hurt my feelings... Now, frankly I look back and I really don't even know what I saw in the guy. Pearl says I've gotten cold, but I think I've just grown up... added a few layers of skin... seen parts of the real world I could have lived without... At this point I am not even sure what causes a woman in a relationship to lose herself so completely... I'm just not there anymore... No point in losing myself again...

Saturday, December 09, 2006


The Stars lose everytime I go... Tonight I tried drinking more to make them look better.... kinda like what you do with men at the bar... no luck... they still sucked... but some guy offered to walk me to the ladies room... so the night wasn't a total loss...

I have the hots for someone that I shouldn't but I figure this isn't the worst thing that could happen... I could have the hots for a Sweedish lesbian with a mustache... that would be worse... in a way...

Saturday, December 02, 2006

Sprinkle Me with Love

Because this time I don't even have a potato.

When I was living in San Marcos when I was 22, I had one of those moments that while seemingly insignificant seemed to leave a clear mark on my memory. I was hungry and broke as many college kids are at that age. But not broke in that "I might have to turn to prostitution" way... more like the "I could have bought groceries this week, but I bought beer last week and now I'm out of luck" way... I was rummaging through my cabinet and all I had were various cookie sprinkles and a potato. This became a sad yet infamous event as I posted a blog describing using my finger to get the sprinkles out of the container lid like a lick-em-stick... Because while I was hungry, I wasn't about to take the time to cook a potato...

I have found myself in a similar situation today... I am no longer 22... I am making almost twice what I made then... I have learned to budget my money... and yet I have virtually no food... I have couscous, wine, and beer... Couscous takes like 20 minutes to cook or some ridiculous crap like that... So beer it is... I feel so grown up, making my own dinner and all... Bottoms up.

Monday, November 20, 2006


Last year around Thanksgiving I found myself wallowing in some sort of self-pity bath rolling about so I made sure I covered myself completly in this funk of self-absorbed negativity. I thought the feeling was stemming from my sad exhistence in Daytona Beach once Rich had left... the pathetic feeling of spending Thanksgiving with a married couple at dinner then Harry Potter (which reminds me... itsn't it time for a new HP movie?). So I ran. I ran away from Dirtona. I ran away from the beach, the biker bars, the race track, the people I had met... I ran.

I realize as I sit here tonight that my problem wasn't Daytona... just like it wasn't San Marcos... or Lampasas... or Oklahoma City... or Orlando... or Stillwater... or now Frisco... my problem is holidays.

I don't remember having bad holiday experiences as a child... Just like I don't remember what made me so stressed out at 13 that I had ulcers.

We all put on a mask. Everyday we get up and decide which mask we are going to put on to avoid letting people see the mess that we truely are underneathe it all. Tonight, I tried to take off my mask, and there was another one placed softly beneath it... and another beyond that. Have I really run so many times from so many places and so many people that I can't find who I was before I started running? Has it really been so long that I can't even place when I put on the first mask?

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Jesus likes hockey

If Jesus likes hockey... which clearly he does.. then why is attendance so low at the the Deja Blue? I mean honestly, we are in the midst of a Christian community with ample entertainment dollars remaining after the tray has been passed through the congregation. Perhaps if more people were exposed to this charming figurine of Jesus playing hockey with the trinity kid and the kid representing man (3# and #6 respectively for those of you not up on your biblical numerology), then more people would find themselves with a desire to see hockey. This figurine could be the answer to all my marketing issues. I mean... Jesus could be the answer to all my marketing issues.

I wonder if there is a Jesus the marketer figurine...

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Why Did I Feel So Alone in That

So when you break up with somebody, you half expect them to say no... to ask you to stay... to at least look a little sad...

But when they don't even look like they feel bad about the argument... Well that sucks. 8 months and I'm done. I don't want to come so far down in someone's priorities that I am below the ex wife, the part time job, the roommate, the parties, and the other girls that he thinks it's okay to let stay over. I may have crap self-esteem... but it's not quite that low yet.

Saturday, June 17, 2006

Thursday, May 11, 2006

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Sunday, May 07, 2006

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

A Few Thursdays Back

He looks good on paper. Met him a few days before. Dropped a quick email the next morning saying hey... which does wonders for a girl's self esteem. He's quick witted. Able to dish out as much (if not slightly more) as I am giving him. Impressive. He can keep up mentally. Put a check mark in his plus column. Back and forth with the email. Perhaps we'll see each other Thursday, maybe we should car pool, let's meet after work. Pause.

So in the meantime, I send my EDS spies in search of solid information. A fact finding mission if you will. Luckily for both of us, they were impressed. This is good as many of my clients often treat me like I am their 30-something unwed child and we are sitting together in temple when a single Jewish doctor comes stolling in to peruse the Torrah and just happens to be dashing and incredibly witty... calm down folks.

So we are set to meet after work at Fox, just a short jaunt down the road. He tells me he is heading to Starbucks before I get off and asks me if I want anything. A red flag goes up. Many upper middle class caucasian Americans need Starbucks like a comedian needs jokes about minorities. I sense a possible addiction. Could this be a problem? Possibly. I will however forgive this little "slave to the corporate monster and its marketing beast" indiscretion because he is getting me passion tea (though I am fairly certain he thought I was suffering from some inuendo dropping when really I just like passion tea).

I meet up with him and consider his vehicle briefly. Some sort of SUV, black (I say this as I pretend to not be so concerned with what he drives as to have noticed make, model and vin...). We decide that I should follow him to his place where we will leave my car and ride together downtown. I call my mother. That's what I do in the car. I call my mother to tell her how great work is, how fat I looked in my pants that day, how nervous I am about the carpool thing, blah blah blah... Thus my mother is the first person to learn of my new insecurities as I pull up to his house... That's right... house... not condo, apartment, duplex, fourplex, cardboard box... actual grown-up house. Nice lawn. Put another check in his plus column...

So in the house. I make mental notes as I get the official tour. Furniture matches, although obviously man furniture. Hardwood floors. Nice patio. Very clean. Organized. Duke MBA (like I wouldn't notice that). Great artwork. Cross above the bed (Catholic?). And then my mind wanders... He seems to add up to such a nice piece of man... so what is wrong? Could it be that he intimidate women with his nice clean home or his education or any number of things that I am finding intimidating... Could it be that when he talks in person and not via email he is socially inept... possible. Could it be that he has six toes on his left foot... who knows. Focus Lacey.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

The End of MySpace

Myspace for me was one of those fun little time fillers while I was waiting on the shared drive to locate a file, making copies, or any number of mundane office tasks. But alas... MySpace is dead. I may never post during the work week again. I may never feel the joy of reading blog comments and denying new friend requests during the work day. What will I do with all my spare moments? I will tuck my tail and run back to blogspot, the original home for all my exploits and still the home for those thing I don't want myspacers to read. I will embrace the joy that is my blog without all the other fun things attached. I will go back to being incredibly sad that noone will read my blogs... so sad.

Enough crying. This should be a moment for rejoicing. A moment for realizing that I have outsmarted my management by finding another outlet within moments of the terrifying:

Your organization's Internet use policy restricts access to this web page at this time.
The Websense category "Blocked" is filtered.


That's right. I am the power in this office... and the proverbial man will not be keeping me down.

Friday, April 07, 2006

Dirty Minded Meeting

Have you ever found yourself with a sudden need to have a "pleasurable moment" at a really inappropriate time? So I am sitting in meetings today thinking... huh... I could go for a sexy man right about now... perhaps in a towel... freshly showered... laying on the conference table. He would lay on his side with his head propped up by his sexy man arms. He could look into my eyes and rattle off marketing jargon. He could slide his hands across my reports and lick his fingers while turning the pages for me. I know he thinks I'm hot. Who (in my imagination) wouldn't? I think he's going to take off his towel and wipe the moisture from his body. Reach for it... And then...
"Lacey, what are your thoughts on that?"
Crap... so I give them my thoughts on what I was thinking about.
"I think that sounds super! We should make that happen today."
So here I sit waiting patiently for the copy machine to finish the copies that apparently I volunteered to make during the meeting... I really ought to pay more attention.

Invisible Children

Important Current mood: calm
Hey all- I'll be there... I would love to see more of my friends there. Invite everyone you know. It will be memorable. Without enough support, this event will mean nothing. With enough backing from some of the larger groups in the area, we can get news coverage... If you feel like you have to get something more than the possibility to impact change, bring out your group and wear your group's logo... Be the change. Make the difference. No one can do it alone.


The strangest feeling I have ever experienced is possibly the second break up with Nathan... I should feel alone, sad, broken. But I don't. I feel calm and slightly introspective about the whole thing. I don't feel like I need a girl's night out, a man bashing event, or a bottle of wine. I do need Nathan's friendship. I need him as a friend far more than I ever needed him for anything.

Nathan doesn't know that to me he has become a best friend. Beyond those friends that I have had for years, he is it. I trusted him enough to let him in and now I don't know what I would do if he were gone. I will bend in the friendship if need be to maintain. I will go out of my way to make him happy as I would for any of my friends. I will do this because he didn't make me feel broken.

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

What a load of crap...

Monday, February 20, 2006

Standing Water and Electricity

No need to worry about the standing water that I discovered in my kitchen this morning becuase I also had no electricity ridding myself of any fire hazard.
So the strange part of the water issue... The water was not there last night... the water was not only on the floors, but also on the counter... the ceiling and walls were both dry... so where (you may be asking yourself) did the water come from?
Who the hell knows? The apartment complex didn't answer the phone this morning when I called, so I left a message with the answering service. The apartment never called me back so I tried calling again around 11:30am... no answer. Seriously... why is my rent so high? They apparently don't have any staff to pay...
So now two messages later and the knowledge that I have no power and some sort of mystery water on my floor and counter... I am actually on the edge of severe frustration trying to keep the whole thing in persepective...

Sunday, February 19, 2006

Blog About Nothing

You Are From Saturn
You're steady, organizes, and determined to achieve your dreams.You tend to play it conservative, going by the rules (at least the practical ones).You'll likely reach the top. And when you do, you'll be honorable and responsible.Focus on happiness. Don't let your goals distract you from fun!Don't be too set in your ways, and you'll be more of a success than you ever dreamed of." a >What<>Planet Are You From?

So for starters, apparently I am from Saturn. You've read what that means. Exactly as we all suspected, I'm organized and no fun. However, this raises an interesting question since men are from Mars and women are from Venus... which rhymes with penis, so what were women thinking anyway. What does that make me. Not a woman in the stereotypical way, putting fashion and relationships on the front burner. Sadly, I seem to do quite the opposite. While I do care about how I look, I really ought to care more. I need to put on make-up, walk with my shoulders back and my chin up, get a more up to date haircut, and wear clothes that might actually make men look twice instead of politely commenting on the various pieces of my wardrobe before moving on to something hotter, sexier, and better dressed. And relationships... perhaps I need to read a book or something. Dr. Phil wants to help me... the all smiles fellow from eHarmony has offered his support... so why don't I take them up on this great advice they are so generously peddling? Because I like to build walls. Walls that people can't see. I make people laugh so that they will see me as open when I'm not. Walls are safe. Walls are comforting. Walls are lonely. I knocked a few bricks out of my wall and put my hand through... I touched someone else on the outside. I whispered a secret through the wall and felt more alone than I had before. So slowly I will pull my hand back in, replace the bricks, and carry on pretending I never ventured beyond my walls... and I will make people laugh... I will be the fun girl... I will sing off key and dance in my ever so white way...

Friday, February 10, 2006

Could use a steroid boost...

No, I'm not dying or pumping up for the next swim match up with the German women, but I could use some bolstering. Last night I woke up twice because I couldn't breathe. Had there been an attractive man sitting on me... great... glad for the wake-up call... As it was, I was alone the room temperature had just caused my chest to tighten up. Oof. So this morning, armed with my four hours of decent sleep, I have set out to conquer this little issue and cough up whatever unpleasantness is causing my troubles.

On a side note... my coworkers are (I am certain) enjoying my disgusting hacking... How do I know that they are enjoying it you may ask... Because there has not only been no talk of my going home early, but rather the reminder that they need me to stay late.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

This One Isn't Funny

Most of the time I venture into my blog to tell a story that is amusing on some level. I pride myself in having the ability to make nearly every story in life seem like it was a great time, even if it wasn't entirely... Tonight I am too tired for that. I've worked more in the last two weeks than the average person works in a month. I have moved things in such an intense direction because I feel as though I have to squeeze meaningful conversation into a five minute time slot and a relationship into a one-inch binder that I can pull off the shelf at my convenience. The only problem is that I get the feeling that those around me are doing the same thing. As more people condense me into a few funny stories, flashes of memory and the occassional pulling off the shelf, I realize that I need people in my life that have dimension and people who want that out of me. I need people who will sit with me and play cards, talk about faith, discuss the problems with mass marketing, enjoy the beauty of science, laugh so hard they cry, and cry so hard they laugh. I need people who will call me to go to the zoo, drink a beer in my name when I have to work late, understand that sometimes I'm not feeling all that clever, play original Nintendo, and eat takeout. I need people who know me. Not just the silly girl who works more than she does anything else... but the me that used to feel smart and attractive and wanted.

I guess I am saying I need friends... not myspace "friends" or club aquaintences... but the friends that will dislike someone just because you do and love someone for the same reason...

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Back from Whataburger...

Again bulleted for the ease of the viewership… and due to my already fading memory of the evening… and again… it was like French soaps, so I was confused… often…

-At this point the body guard, sequin top, 2-fister, wig, the media man, Paul, Paco, Hilda, and the ref are all in or around the condo… I am possibly forgetting someone, but the major players at this point are Paul, Paco, Hilda, and the ref.

-I assume that Hilda is gone since I don’t see her, but alas she has shut herself up in Paul’s room… How many times do I need to tell her to back off…

-The ref offers to get her out of Paul’s room. Great strides were made in ridding her of his room, but not the condo, as she bolted into the bathroom.

-Paco has disappeared somewhere to eat his burger… presumably he was naked eating in the hot tub… at least that is where I would have gone.

-I can only assume that this is the point in the night when the alcohol in my system caught up with me because I remember bits and pieces of conversation... “I’ve been assaulted…” “I’m calling the cops.” “Give me $300 dollars and you’ll never see me again.” “She said she wouldn’t get in a cab.” “Did she say $3 million?” And then suddenly she was outside, the door was locked… and then she was gone.

At this juncture the only progress towards a remedy to the situation had been made by the ref... sadly, this came nowhere close to a solution. I thought about taking Hilda home myself, but didn't trust her not to accuse me of doing something to her. I thought about going to bed, but 2-fister was asleep in a rolling desk chair... because we all know how comfortable that had to have been... and to e honest, I didn't want to leave Paul open and available for the other girls around...

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Monday, February 06, 2006

Saturday night continued...

Okay... so I head back into the bar with a renewed sense of purpose and the will to conquer the other girl and break her spirit... umm... so not really all that dramatic, but I did assure myself that she wouldn't be touching him anywhere below the belt again.

So a brief synopsis of Paul at the bar and and how amazing he is... bulleted for your ease...

-So much fun to dance with... not a dry humper which is actually a common problem among dancing men... but sexual enough that you consider the possibility of taking him home...

-Doesn't ignore his friends and makes everyone feel important while still making me feel like I might just be slightly more important in the whole scheme of things...

- Not sloppy drunk (AKA Candied)...

- Danced with me outside for some smoke free time... seems minor, but it made my night... incredibly sweet on so many levels... greatly increased his score in the Lacey Date-With-Ease Point System...

- (Now here's where things go a little more than slightly amuck) Maintained a polite demeanor with other girl despite her continued decline on the drunk scale and her blantant attempts to thwart my plans...

-Did I mention that this Paul fellow is totally hot with the most amazing smile? Not to mention that he has great fashion sense without crossing the line to metro... it's a fine line that we should all stay on the right side of...

- Lastly, those little things that guys say sometimes and they don't think much of having said it, but it so makes you giddy... "I'm glad you came tonight..." Hehe... I'm a simple girl, so that's really all it takes.

Okay, so onto crazy time...

Other girl, who will hence forth be known as Hilda (because I don't know any Hildas, thus decreasing my chances of offending anyone with choice of names... selected as always to protect the innocent... or those who end up in jail... whatever, I'm equal opportunity protection), comes out of nowhere crying. I think she is asking Paul to take her to the bathroom... Umm... Hell no. I think we all know why someone asks a person of the opposite sex to go to the bathroom with them at the bar... unless it's my friend Seth and I and then it's only because 6th street has its moments of creepy late at night.

So, thwarting her plan to thwart my plan... I offer to take her to the restroom... and besides girls do sorta have that unwritten restroom rule and who am I to break years of tradition? So there she sits on the toilet, rambling on about her past heartbreaks and traumas with no pants on while I try to remember what her name so I can offer a simple, "it's okay, Hilda... guys are always lame like that..." Don't stress guys, that's another unwritten rule.. you have to agree that guys always suck even though they don't...

So many of the details of the bathroom confab will be omitted simply due to the unknown readership and the possibility of striking far too many nerves... but here's the kicker...

Hilda: "So you and Paul..."

Me: "So... me and Paul?"

Hilda: "Are you here with him?"

Me: "No, I'm here with you... he's out there dancing.."
(It's easy to be a smart ass when the other person is candied.)

Hilda: "I'm in love with Paul."

Me: ......... (Smart ass or no... what was I supposed to say to that?)

Brief break in the story... I frickin' love Jason Mraz... Makes me want to do a little dance in my cube.

I feel the need to fast forward to time to leave as there are moments of shots and drinks and dancing and random guys (including some cute fellow who said he liked girls in glasses... little did he know my self esteem is high enough that such a blatant reference to something not entirely thought attractive by society was quickly deflected as pure fodder.)

So we head out... as we stand outside, Hilda states that she has forgotten her jacket and asks Paul to come with her to get it... again, seriously, Hilda... So I offer to go at which point she decides that her jacket "only cost $13" so she could leave it. Well, I take her to find it amid more tears though it appears that her $13 jacket (if it ever truly existed) is gone. So back outside we go. As we split into vehicles, everyone seems to avoid the basic problem, who will take Hilda.

Well, I figure I've seen her sans pants, so surely I could stand her being in my car, besides her IQ is almost genious level (she told the engineer and the former women in engineering scholar) so it was bound to be a fabulous ride full of intelligent conversation and mind stretching introspection with the refelction of other well toned intellectuals...

Does intelligent conversation usually include another slurred candied... "Paulll, you know I think you are cute and... well... I should just leave it at that..." "Great," I think... "she should have left it at the bar in the bottle and maintained some sort of composure..." Even the 2 fistin', pass out in a computer chair, 0.02 at noon the next day guy maintained an adult level of behavior...

Now, not knowing Hilda from Eve... I have no warning for what comes next... In fact the whole scenario seemed to play out in slow motion as I realized she was misplacing her affection on Paul, when it is (according to Hilda)...


... Paco who is the father of her baby to be... (insert 1950's horror flick screams and you will approach the level of drama we were falling into)
Yes, at sequin top's acceptance of Paco's invitation to crash at Paul and Paco's place, Hilda shreeked, "YOU ARE SUCH AN ASS HOLE!" She followed this little gem with the idea that she (who had drowned her newly created baby in a pool of poorly selected adult beverages... I mean can they swim 6 days after conception?) was in fact pregnant with Paco's love child from the weekend before...

A quick message from Diana Ross:

You think that I don't feel love
What I feel for you is real love
In other's eyes I see reflected
A hurt, scorned, rejected
Love child
Never meant to be
Love ChildBorn in poverty
Love Child
Never meant to be
Love Child
Take a look at me

Thanks Diana... now back to the story... Drama escalates and the only logical solution for Paco is Whataburger. I can't argue with this logic... even as a vegetarian, Whataburger seems to offer refuge and hope for a brighter tomorrow... so into the SUV I go and it's off to Whataburger.
Now there are two flaws in the Whataburger refuge plan...

1. The two people who actually live at the condo (Paco and Paul) were in the SUV on the way to Whataurger leaving crazy pants Hilda back at their place with some other folks.

2. We were missing great material for my blog by skipping out when Hilda decided to call her dad who apparently hung up on her... Crap.

Upon arrival back from Whataburger things just all crammed together... things were happening at such a rate that it became hard to keep up with all the drama. I can only assume it would be like watching Days of Our Lives and General Hospital at the same time using picture in picture... in French.

Paul and Paco: A Night in Review

We begin with an internal dialogue circa Saturday afternoon...

"Hmmm... I really like him... there is no way that he actually likes me... seriously, that would be far too good for the sub par week that I am having. He did ask me to go out tonight... with like a million other people so that doesn't mean anything. I should just text him and let him know I am busy... he won't care... okay... text."

I couldn't bring myself to send the text. Let's get real. I like someone and I had two choices... sit at home and sulk in safety without the possibility of rejection, or throw it out there and cross my fingers. Well, I do like to entertain all those who find my romantic interludes and the failures thereof humorous, so...

I left after work and headed to Suede. Walking in I questioned the top I had chosen while standing in the bathroom at the office half and hour earlier. I worried that I wouldn't be able to find anyone I knew. I thought about the fact that most of the group had been together and presumably drinking four hours prior to my arrival. Big deep breath Lacey... there he is... dancing with another girl. I am fairly certain she is touching his crotch when I spot them... and yes, there is the latest in my sub par week.

Was I deterred? No. Being slightly more than competitive, my new mission was to make other girl a complete nonissue. Plan... not sure... time to create a plan... no...

Alas, a positive break. I met Paco. Sitting outside with Paco, he assured me that other girl was not a threat. Paco said great things about Paul. Paco, being a great friend, reiterated the things I already found attractive about Paul and said new things that made me smile inside. While I may never know whether Paco was telling the truth, he deserves the friend of the night award either way. I headed back into the bar.

To be continued...

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Have you ever...

... met someone who just felt right? You know... your hands fit together and they seem to see you beyond the person you generally pretend to be...

Saturday, February 04, 2006

My Life...

... reads like a poorly written romance novel.

Friday, February 03, 2006

Friday morning...

Current mood: uncomfortable

Let's talk about the awkward conversation i had this morning at the Chamber... but first a little background story.

I went out for a drink with a guy who lives with his parents. So at the end of the evening... where to do we go? His parents house. Okay, now the awkward part.

This morning I am standing talking to a nice fellow. He is asking if he can call me sometime. I am thinking... "you're alright... perhaps." I flip my hair, smile, and say, "sure." At this point I realize that someone is standing at my side, presumably waiting to talk to me. As I turn, I see the aforementioned guy's dad. Great. Now I feel a wee bit trashy.
So I am thinking about the fact that said guy has not even called me since Tuesday, so his loss if someone else wants to call. I am thinking, what a waste of energy he was. Running through my mind are the little pangs of yet another failed stab at having a social life... and then... the conversation gets worse.

"Did you guys have fun the other night?"

"Sure! It was great!"

"Just making sure my son didn't do anything to embarass himself."

"No, things were pretty low key... I'm too old for that much fun."

"When he got home my wife heard him come in and she was going to get up and see if he enjoyed the networking and going out with you, but then she heard another voice. We realized you were with him so I made her stay in the bedroom. She decided to just ask him about it the next morning."

"Haha... (uncomfortable pause)... hahummm... yep, I stopped by."

Well, I am sure you can see how I was bothered... it was like high school... the parent said all that but meant... "we know you came into our home and kissed our son... you dirty dirty hooker."

I am shamed. Shame. Shame. Shame.

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Guys, the Opera, and Other Randomness

The thoughts that travel through ones head given extra time in the car, a long night at the opera, and the ingestion of Chinese food from the fridge that probably should have gone in the trash over a week ago... bullet pointed for your reading ease...

-Went to the opera without a watch. Used the guy's next to me. He didn't know.

-Figured it was okay that I was staring at his watch since he was touching me... you know... accidentally on purpose. Guys, girls know when you are doing that.

-Character from opera had low self-esteem. Some guy overthrew her brother as king, tried to marry her sister-in-law when he was engaged to her first, tried to kill her brother, then told her he loved her at the end and magically... they were in love.

-Character from opera clearly illustrates a woman's need to feel loved.

-Character from opera made me feel frustrated for thinking about someone most of the day... waste of a day I suspect.

-Although not entirely a waste, as thinking about a great kiss helps pass the time.

-I need to start wearing a watch.

-I had forgotten how great live orchestra sounded. I've always loved going.

-In recent years, it's a great way for a guy to ensure a second night and later evening with me... symphony... or even a nice cd.

-We have games Thursday and Saturday.

-Weeknight games wear me out.

-I am a little freaked aout going to business interchange on Friday because of one person I will have to see... and I am not proud of my high school moment in their house.

-I am too old to be having high school moments.

-I need to wash my sheets on Saturday... or perhaps Sunday since I'll be working on Saturday.

-I might as well throw in the rest of my laundry then too.

-Must remember to give the excited "woo" on Friday... he'll like it more than he knows...

-Need to work the chamber more to my advantage. Sometimes people suck all the time and energy from everyone else. If I command my time a bit better... well, attention equals money.

-This started as a mess about the opera and the boy that has clouded my better judgement and has somehow morphed into a work and networking task list.

-Wow... my life must really suck.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

I am totally in love...

... with the new shoes I am wearing. I should hope you didn't think it was person... we all know better than that.

While I am on the subject of love... I mean shoes... I think that life is bordering on unfair so far as work vs evening fashion trends for women. Tonight I will be going to the opera. I have to change clothes so as not to look like a shlub even though I am wearing slacks and a button-up dress shirt. See, that is not appropriate evening out wear for a woman. But men on the other hand, well, they can just go in their work clothes. Crap. So... I will be heading home at lunch, grabbing a skirt, a slightly higher heal, and something for the top that says "professional, feminine, classy, and available." No small task. Love the shoes I'll be wearing later too though!

Saturday, January 21, 2006

Can't Sleep

So I changed up my page a bit and my picture too. I decided that I needed something a bit more feminine. Never realized how quickly people make crappy judgements about others. So there I am sitting at some place called Cosmic Veagan Hindu Land or something thinking... "great company, great food choices... that kid with his mom looks like Hansen." So sadly, I can't even peg him as a particular Hansen brother... besides that would mean I knew far too much about Hansen. So... he has the long hair and the lips... you know, the Hansen lips that while somewhat affeminate scream, "kiss me now." It is at this point that I should state that the boy was probably young enough to warrent my going to hell for saying any of this... or maybe he was 18... oh well. So anyway, I am eyeballing the people in the restaurant, trying desperately to pay attention to the conversation about crab poop that is occuring around me when I notice the people eating off each other plates. I have to say... I hate that. So, Hansen... that song from a few summers ago wasn't so bad. I guess their come back didn't stick though. What was it... Penny something something. Oddly... I find Anderson Cooper sexy. Not sure why, but grrrrrowl. So Wednesday I am headed to the opera. Sadly, I have two tickets, but I will be going alone. That's okay. World, hear me now... I am single and that is okay. So I have a bit of extra cash and I am wondering... do I fly somewhere for a mini alone time vacation or do I buy myself some bling and flash it around town like a crazy spinster. Perhaps I will just put it in savings. Yep.. savings. Hmm... John Stewart, also kinda sexy, but no Anderson Cooper for sure. I think the creases in my face are weird when I smile.

People Don't Really Want to Know What I Think

People often ask me, "so what do you think?" "Do you think I've changed?" "Does this outfit look okay?" "Do you think so and so likes me?"

Let's be honest. You don't want to know what I think. If you are unsure as to whether something you did was wrong... it was. If you can't decide whether of not to wear something... you shouldn't. If you aren't sure if so and so likes you... they most likely don't. People know the answers to their own questions. Many are just looking for some sort of verbal boost telling them what they want to hear. I will no longer be that person. Find someone else to lie to you. Next time you ask me if you look fat in a particular outfit, I'm just going to let you know that the only way to really look fat in an outfit is to actuallly be fat.

Monday, January 16, 2006

Binary Code

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Monday, January 09, 2006

Considering a major friend overhaul on myspace...

As I scroll through my friends on myspace, I wonder exactly why I added them and why they added me. Some people ended up on my list because once many years we had something in common, be it Camp Fire Girls or Mrs. Kelley. Strange. But what really surprises me is the how much I just want to delete some other people. There are people who knew me for a brief moment in time in Stillwater... who in truth don't know me at all... that really wasn't me. There are people who bumped into me in Belton, while I was busy hiding who I really was in order to maintain some semblance of good grace with the Baptist university that doesn't realize the level of oppression they have attained. There are those who think I am someone that I am not and some who know far more than they should. But here are the facts... I am ridding my little corner of the internet of all the people whose last name I don't know. I am deleting people who only knew me in 1998-2000, because that isn't who I really am. I am deleting bands that I don't honestly enjoy. I will wipe clean the list of people who though they live near me only want to drop a line every few weeks and never actually see me in real life. I mean seriously... I'm fun in person! Don't misunderstand, this is not a disgruntled myspace rant, only a reflection. By shrinking the crowd, I will be ale to actually focus on the people who know me... or at least want to know me.

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Nothing Exciting, Don't Bother Reading

Part of me is simply curious as to how many people might read this despite the title stating that it is in fact nothing exciting. But I may never know. The only way to be for sure is if you post a comment admiting that you have looked.

I wish I could offer you something for your trouble, but there is nothing to talk about... really.