What Kind of Excuse is You "Have to Help Your Friend Move"?

Last week in "How Do I Know If We Have "Chemistry"? I blogged about going out with Andy from Eharmony twice, but not yet knowing whether or not we had chemistry. I wanted to have one more date to see if anything developed one way or another between us. Date number two ended with me asking him if he would like to go to Oktoberfest on Saturday with me and him agreeing.

Friday when I called him up to see if he was still up for going out on Saturday, but to Grapefest instead (we both are self-proclaimed winos), he said "I have to help my friend with something on Saturday, but if we get done early enough I might be able to go." Later that afternoon, I received a text from him stating that he could not go to Grapefest because he was helping a friend move.

Moving? MOVING?? Even Princess Tartini is smart enough to know that if a guy chooses to help a buddy move over going out with a girl, that this is not a good sign. Nobody likes moving. In fact, people make up all kinds of excuses why they can't help a friend move. They don't readily volunteer for moving duty unless they have another obligation that is even worse than sweating up three flights of stairs while balancing a sleeper sofa on your head. So I got it. Really I did. Andy was giving me the passive aggressive "I'm just not that into you" kind of excuse. Fine . . . moving on.

Until . . . .Monday at 12:18 via text message: From Andy: How was ur weekend?

Umm, how do you think my weekend was? Fun except for the fact that I thought we had plans and then you blew me off to help a friend move, which I interpreted to mean that you were not interested. Am I wrong? Has my female intuition failed me?

Seriously, how do I respond to this? I am not his friend. I am only two dates in the hole. Is this a friendly, "I kind of feel bad for giving you a bad excuse why I could not see you and now I am trying to make myself feel better by asking you how your weekend was"? If so, then, how about we not play this game. However, if this is a "I really did have to help my friend move despite the fact that I had already told you last weekend that I would like to get together on Saturday," then the answer is still no. I want to be prioritized higher than "I have to help my friend move."

AAAHHHH!! So frustrating! Should I respond to this text message or file it under "not worth my time?"

P.S. For us elders in the community over 16 years of age, "your" is spelled Y-O-U-R, not U-R!

Time Flies

In a couple of weeks a milestone event will occur. My 10-year High School reunion. I have such mixed emotions about this event. I really haven’t stayed friends with most of my high school friends, so I wonder if this is going to present a certain amount of awkwardness. It’s not that we had a falling out and no longer speak, it’s just that over time we have lost touch. Which makes me wonder, am I crappy friend? I could blame this on Facebook by saying they make it too easy to know what is happening in someone else’s life without even talking to them, but I know that is not the real problem. I feel like so many people have that close group of high school friends that they plan to will be friends with forever. Whereas with me, I make a close friend and then me or the other person moves to another state and we grow apart over time then I make new friends and the cycle starts all over. Plus, the location of the event was recently revealed and I have to say it was a bit of a let down. Shame on me for basing my expectations on what I've seen in movies, but a "cafe" is not what I was expecting for our reunion. Despite this, I am looking forward to going. You get to see what people have made of themselves over the past ten years. Did the popular kids peak in high school? Are the jocks now fat and bald? Are the nerds now rich and married to models? Luckily for me, I am actually proud of what I have done over the past ten years. I am definitely more motivated, more confident, and more successful. Perhaps if I wasn’t then I wouldn’t be going to the reunion.

In preparation of the big event, Princess Tartini and I are going shopping for the perfect outfit. We have dubbed this event “Tartini Saturday” as we will partake in a tasty Tartini (or two) prior to shopping. We also hope to take some pictures, so we can spice up our blog page!

How Do I Know If We Have "Chemistry"?

Last Saturday I went on date #2 with Andy,** a guy I met through Eharmony. Our first date had gone very well. We met for drinks and later, a shared dinner of fish tacos and desert, at a micro-brewery in Plano. He was everything his profile portrayed, which is a rare find in the online dating world. We had plenty to chat about and both agreed that we would like to see each other again. Needless to say, date #1, aka, the "scary oh shit I hope he really looks like his picture" date, was a success.

For date #2, the one I call, "ok buddy, who are you really?" at his suggestion, we went to a wonderful sushi restaurant for dinner. Again, we had a good time talking, but were at a loss for what to do after dinner. It was still early, and we had already ruled out seeing a movie. (Have you seen the crap that is playing in the theatres these days???) So, being a rainy evening, I suggested going to a coffee shop and chatting some more. He suggested that if I was comfortable we could go over to his apartment for coffee. I agreed because a) I am a skeptical person by nature and didn't sense any Ted Bundy inclinations, and that b) if anything went wrong, I would have the whole apartment complex as a witness to my glass-cracking high-pitched screams. (Mom, if you are reading this, please don't be mad!).

Now, for you dating girls out there, you KNOW how important the first apartment visit can be because it can tell you a lot about a person that cannot easily be hidden or faked. Well, I am proud to say that Andy passed with flying colors. His apartment was clean and neat. His furniture was a mix of Ikea and other nicer pieces of furniture. He also had A LOT of electronics, which makes sense since he is a self-described geek. (He works for a cell phone carrier based in Dallas). He made coffee, for which we both added plenty of milk and splenda, and we chatted about a range of different subjects, including his fondness for the band Kings of Leon. About an hour later I made my exit-in my hand, a burned copy of a few Kings of Leon songs.

I guess all in all, I would rate the date a B, and here is why: How do I know if we have chemistry? I mean, we got along fine. He seems to have many of the qualities that I consider hard to find in men, but there was no POW! No AHA! No sound of whooshing as my head went into the clouds. Worse, what if I am just sooo boring, that I won't ever be able to find POW! or AHA! or WHOOSH! with anyone? How many dates do I need to go on before I know whether the elusive "chemistry" that people talk about so much is present?

At the end of the date, I suggested meeting up for Oktoberfest in Addison ( http://www.addisontexas.net/events/Oktoberfest/default.asp) next Saturday. I think this will be a good active date to go on. I think after date #3 I will know whether the relationship is going to take off, or be merely another "dating experience" compliments of Eharmony.

**Name changed to protect the poor, innocent guy I am writing about

Please Don't Call Me

A few months ago, rocker Pink released a single called Please Don't Leave Me. Now I am kind of wishing she would return to her bad gal roots and write a song called Please Don't Call Me. You see, back in March or so of this year, my boyfriend did leave me. It was one of those, "yeah, um, this really isn't working out for me" type of situations. No reasons, no warning, just see ya. Really, I think he wanted some drama and for me to beg him to stay, and to tell him how much I needed him blah blah blah, which is totally not my style. Instead, in typical Princess Tartini fashion, I moved on and decided to proceed with my plan to buy a house.

I guess the only perplexing thing about the "break up" is that I am still fielding calls and text messages from this guy many months later. And the most pathetic thing is that he does this even if he is dating another girl!! A few weeks ago, I just knew he must have broken up with his girlfriend because the frequency and desperateness of his communications increased. I received two phone calls and three texts from him IN ONE WEEK! These communications consists of drunk messages, declarations of how good of a chef he is, requests for dinner and to come see my house, and one text and follow-up phone call to let me know how much this comedian on E! Channel reminds him of me (Chelsea Handler, if you must know).

At first I was a little flattered that he still called. It was my silent victory of haha-YOU are calling ME. Then, it was a source of humor as I forwarded his ridiculous text messages to my friends, who also knew him. Now, it is just plain stupid. Please don't call me and make up dumb excuses why you need to talk to me. IE. "Oh, my phone must have just dialed you, but now that we are talking, how are you? We should do dinner sometime." Ok buddy, whatever. What part of breaking up do you not understand?

Even though I know that us parting ways was the right thing to do, it just kills me that he thinks he can worm his way back into my life with his "accidental" phone calls and "oh, I was so drunk and therefore had no control over my actions" text messages. Here's a thought: Do I call you? No. Do I text you? No. Sooooo, please don't call me.

A Little Off The Top

The past week has been hectic to say the least for both me and PT. I’m not sure what has been keeping PT so busy, but I do know that she went on a date last Friday night. I hope we hear more about that soon :)

As for me, my week was filled with house/pet sitting for my parents (and by “pet” I mean, 2 dogs, 3 cats, and 4 horses), a crazy work week, and the usual chores/errands that never seem to stop. One of my errands was to get a haircut. I hate getting my haircut. Mainly because it seems to take F-O-R-E-V-E-R. I know some people find it relaxing, but I would rather be doing so many other things. Like getting a massage :) Plus, why are they so expensive? Even crappy stylists are charging more because they think can get away with it. Not with this girl. So what’s my answer? Wait as long as possible to get my hair cut (you know, the point where you must get it cut TODAY) and then go to any place I can find a coupon for. I do this every time and it always turns out to be a nerve-racking experience. My main concern is that the person is available immediately. From what I’ve observed, good hairstylists are not available at the drop of a hat. You generally have to make an appointment in advance.

True to form, I called and made an appointment with the lady that answered the phone. She was available immediately. Strike one. Once I was in the chair, she wanted to cut seven inches of my hair off. No way lady, I made that mistake last time. So I asked her to take off just an inch and then give me layers. She takes off the inch and then grabs a handful of hair from the top of my head and literally cut it in half. I closed my eyes from that point on and then, like a fool, I asked her to thin my hair. Like even more of a fool, I started counting how many times she “razored” my hair to thin it. Forty-two times. I’m here to tell you, that’s a lot of hair. I told myself to stop counting but I couldn’t. I also told myself to speak up and say something, but I couldn’t spit the words out. Plus once she did the left side of my head, it’s not like she could do less on the right side.

Overall, my hair looks better than I thought it would although shorter than I would have liked. But it is just hair and it will grow out. Especially since I probably won’t get another haircut for six months. The cherry though was when she handed me her card, took it back, and in front of “Designer” she penned in “Master “. And just like that, she became a “Master Designer”. Was that really necessary?

Act Now!

Have you ever bought something and later (or even immediately after) asked yourself, "What was I thinking?" I made one of those purchases about a month ago. It's bad. Real bad. I saw an ad in the newspaper for a once in a lifetime opportunity and it just so happened that this "deal" was that day only. Plus there were limited quantities, so I had to act fast in order to be one of the lucky owners of this item. I first wanted to see if I was too late for the purchase or if they had any left. I mean if I was too late then I could have said it wasn't meant to be. So I called the number and sure enough while they were "going fast", there were still some left. Well now that I had the salesperson on the phone, I couldn't just say "Oh I just wanted to see if you had any left. Bye." That would be rude. So I bought it and ever since I hung up the phone I have regretted it. I didn't tell my husband because he was out mowing the lawn. To my credit, I tried knocking on the window while he was outside, but he couldn't hear me. And even though is the beauty of having separate bank accounts, we still we try not to make stupid or rash purchases and are usually quite successful. Unfortunately, this purchase qualified as both. So I called my mom because I thought if I confessed to someone it would make the purchase seem more reasonable. That was not the case. Even she asked me what I was thinking.

I decided to put off telling my husband and pushed the mistake to the back of my mind. Then one day there was a giant package by the front door. At first I thought it was a surprise present, but I soon realized what it was and my stomach dropped. I had forgotten about the deal of the century. I didn't even open the box. I hid it in the guest room closet hoping that my husband wouldn't go in there for anything. I knew I had 90 days to return it, so I held off my confession. I thought about writing a blog post while he was out of town, so that way he would find out while he was miles away in a hotel room. Then I decided to put it off longer and he came back in town. My time was running out. I played the conversation in my head and the more I played the more comfortable I became. Maybe he would be excited about the purchase and my eclectic taste. I would tell him how I worried and we would laugh about it over a glass of wine. Then he would take me to a nice dinner because this item would SURELY increase in value and make us rich someday. So finally this past Friday I let him in on my secret. We opened the box together and he just shook his head restraining himself from the 1500 jokes he had, all at my expense.

So what was the item you ask? Only all 50 State Quarters and 6 Territory coins. Uncirculated. I will say I was smart enough not to buy a set from each of the U.S. Mints. Which sadly, I considered. All of this begs one question... Well, two really. "How old am I?" and "What are the 6 territories?". I didn't go blow my paycheck on a new pair of Jimmy Choo's or a designer dress. I bought COINS. COINS. FYI- my 88-year-old Grandpa buys coins. That and an Amish heater that he swears is the greatest thing on earth. My husband asked me how much they were and I asked him to guess. His reply was "I hope not more than 56 X $0.25". Spoiler alert: They were $88 plus s+h. Technically the coins were free. I just had to buy the crappy frame that doesn't even have glass. Did I seriously think I was going to display these in the gargantuan "antique" wall frame they came in? Everyone else buys home decor from Pottery Barn. Not me, I've got coins on the wall. Correction, ALMOST had coins on the wall. Saturday I woke up bright and early and sent the coins back to the "World Reserve" where they belong. They will soon be someone else's treasure (or mistake). Hopefully all this lesson cost me was the shipping and handling. Well that and the embarrassment it has caused. But FYI, the Tennessee state quarter has already increased in value 1100%. This may have been my ticket to early retirement.

Come On Big Money!

I am not a huge gambler by any means. If I actually make it to Louisiana, where gambling is legal, I take my set amount of $$ and try to make it last as long as possible. Yes, I am BORING, in all caps. Someone like my brother, however, would go in, and put it all on red. Of course, he has really good luck and would come out ahead. But, when I go into these casinos, I always feel a little sad for some of the people there. I mean, they are chain smoking their last ciggie and throwing their electricity money away in the quarter slots. I mean, seriously, it gets HOT in Texas and Louisiana, so you definitely don't want to be without A/C! So where am I going with this? Well, I totally cannot see the urge to gamble so much that you are risking your life savings and friendships over the tiny chance that you may beat the House.

Ok, but to be honest, that was YESTERDAY's thinking. That was before my friend Mike mentioned to me that the Texas Mega Millions Jackpot had reach astronomical proportions (around $333M!!!!!!). All of a sudden I JUST HAD to buy a ticket. The only problem was, I needed a dollar. So Mike gave me a dollar and with specific instructions told me to purchase a ticket with the "cash value option." See, he is all about finance and understands that the lump sum is better than the payout over several years. Whatever. I was like a little kid skipping to the 7-Eleven with my sole dollar held high above my head. I am going to be RICH baby!

People-not gonna lie- I spent all day yesterday thinking about what I would do on my first day as nouveau riche. Stream-of-thought: I quickly decided that I needed to keep my job, because otherwise I would be bored. Then I would pay off my house and my car, but then I thought, well maybe because I was so rich that I would need the tax break for my house, so maybe I should buy another one, then I thought, screw it, I will just have to put in a call to Suze Orman and have her help me figure out what to do with my new found wealth.

Everyone-I haven't won the lotto (Although, I haven't technically lost either because they don't pull the numbers until tonight!!!) And although a piece of me thinks that maybe I could win, the truth is that tomorrow I will be the same person I am today and still a "working middle class" American (which really sucks). But now I kind of see what all the gambling fuss is about and how people get addicted. For a whole day, all I could think about was "what if?" Just FYI, I would so be the "nice" rich girl, dashing all over town in my designer originals leaving little $100 bill presents in random places for people to find. I would be known for my kindness and generosity, as well as for my killer bod that my new personal trainer would help me sculpt. So, after all that thinking, I have decided that it is ok to dream about this, because hey, you never really know how things will turn out, but you just have to make sure that at the end of the day, you have money in the bank to make the mortgage payment.