Peanut Butter Oatmeal!!!

Try it, it is great. I can't believe I have never discovered it before.

As far as the dating goes, I am done with the juggling. It is exhausting. I don't know what I have told one guy, and what I haven't told the other. I feel like I repeat my stories. Frankly, I am tired of my own stories. I have 1 month before school starts. There is quite a bit of prep work I need to do. I want to read a book on immunology before I jump into the class, and while doing so, I can reference my microbiology book. My goal is to get all A's this semester! For the masters programs of course. I need to get organized and back into shape (considering I am once again able to walk, but the fact that I teach aerobics holds me to a fitness standard) I also need to finish my website class and simplify my living space. I know, impossible to fit in the boys.

Don't worry, there will be stories. Like 2 Italians discussing how to make red sauce at 3am in Albertos with 2 Irish boys. No, you don't blend the meat in a blender. Or hitting the gym and seeing the X coming out of the Club Boxing class that I had asked him to take with me. I asked him to accompany me only after he told me I needed to hit the gym cause my arms were fat. He came of course. Yet he showed up late, handed me a bar of chocolate, and refused to take the class cause it looked too hard.

Friends!? and opposite sex

Here is my hang up. Can you be friends with a guy? In my experience, I have only been able to be friends with guys if there was a 'untouchable' factor. For instance, if either he or I has a significant other, then it works. Or, if he runs in a the same professional circle, the line cant be crossed so soon, so you become friends. Or if they are family friends and you have known them for a while. Or if there is a difference in 'beauty', being that one or the other is out of their league, then it is settled as friends. And what happens when you become such good friends, then one starts to like the other? It is quite a delicate situation.

I just received an opinion from a friend of how dating doesn't work. I am perplexed. The resource exclaimed that there is a preconceived idea about these 'interviews'. The problem is both parties are always 'on form'. And if you think the person is buena gente, then an imidaiate romance tend to follow. There is no room for friendship. Apparenlty guys will always try to hit it. Unless the girl keeps it as friends.

But here is where I am hung up. What happens if the wall is so strong as a friends, that he goes and finds something easier. (logically so) You just cant wait. I think if the communication is strong, you can date romantically and keep a friendship. So what if your 'on form' for a little bit. Isn't everyone at some point in any type of relation 'on form'? PPPPPPPPoker Face.

So now I am sitting here analyzing succesful relationships. Which ones were good friends?

So instead of a serial dater, should I become a serial 'friend' Will I be the inevitable 'guys girl' the 'wing woman' for all my friends? Then I can really see true personalities before I even go romantic. Hmmmmm not too sure about that.

HOw do solve a problem like Maria, How catch a cloud and pin it down? This is such a crazy topic. I just wish it wasn't so complicated.

Weeding

According to Chava, I don't discriminate while dating. But I have officially began to discriminate. Either because they are too ghetto, too forward or both. Ciao to Central America, Mexico and Africa. I just don't get them, they confuse me.

Circus

Shrinivas, Bugra, Otaniel, Kadeon. These are my juggling balls. Countries of origin will not be disclosed, for performers must not expose all of thier tricks at once. Can you smell that? Yes, its fire.

Setting the Butt Bar

My skin has almost cleared up. It has been a 10 year fight. Yet I finally get one thing settled and then I am having trouble buttoning my size 12 "comfortable" pants. Shucks. If its not one thing, its another.

Somehow I came to the realization that there is no 'cup' size for butt size. I think it was when the guy I was seening tried to guess my bust size. I then found out he was really an ass man. So then, how would he measure my butt size? Nice? But that is so vauge. What do the South Americans ask for when they get a butt enlargment? Maybe they just go by country. For instance, my sister has a distinct Puerto Rican butt. Maybe you can ask for an African butt, or the famous Brazilian butt. Or do they just go by actresses: J-Lo, Kim Kardashian, Beyonce. Definitely not Paris Hilton!!! That would be a butt reduction standard.

There is no butt bar. 36 ??? WHAT: 36 Puerto Rican butt, 42 English butt, 38 African butt, 38 J-Lo butt, 34 Paris Hilton butt. REally, it would be so nice if jeans would incorporate that into their sizing. Yes, 30 waist and 36 Brazilian butt. J-Lo is way ahead of the game on setting the Butt Bar

So I have not even blogged a bit on dating. The stories are too much. But I have learned 2 things from my most recent 'experiment' (poor guy, I hope he doesn't read this). These are deal breakers!!! 1) Zit popping is a must. None of this 'let it go naturally'. 2) If he is worried about the sun damaging his hair, ummm, bye.

In the last month, I have had a few 'potty' stories. I think they are worth noting.

Location: Viggilucis single stall restroom (up-scale restaurant)

I walk into the bathroom, like I have done millions of times. As the door is swinging shut, the next woman catches it and walks in. (Like what has happened a million times before). I walk into the stall, lock the door. I am on one mission, to pee. The lady that is waiting does something that has never happened before. As soon as I lock the door, she starts talking to me (mind you, I never even caught glance of the lady, I had been on a mission.) She tells me not to hurry. Excuse me.

"Don't hurry, I am just doing my makeup. You can relax," she says with such consideration of my possible pee anxiety. Thanks lady, I was so worried. Now I can pee without that burden. Really, who says that? But she didn't stop.

"At least you don't have to go number 2. That is what Target is for. I hate when that happens at places like this." What does she know? I almost wished I had to go number 2.

"Ya" I respond. Now I am really starting to get pee anxiety. I am so shocked that my systems start shutting down.

"Here, I'll help you", insists the crazy mystery lady. At this point I am thankful that I remembered to lock the door. How the hell is this lady going to help me pee?

She turns on the water. "This might help you relax." NO, shutting up will help me relax, I think. Does she think this is my first time using a public restroom?

So I finally pee, like I have done a million times before. As I leave the stall, I realize that she is still there. I start visualizing what this crazy lady will look like. I am imagining a cougar. A 50 year old woman, with tons of make-up, botox and fake boobs in a mini skirt and tanning booth bronzed legs, who apparently confuses strangers in the bathroom with her daughter.

But she doesn't look crazy. She looks like an average 40 year old mom. As she finishes her make-up and I wash up, we talk about the local street fair. She had just came from there and I was planning on going the next day. She walks me out the bathroom and wishes me a good day at the street fair.

REALLY who does that?

Location: Airplane back from London

The plane is full of good looking men. SCORE. Not to mention some hot accents. Who sits next to me? All women. There is a lesbian couple to my Left. The girl has some horrid perfume that keeps making me sneeze. On the Right, the black Caribbean?? woman stares at the blank screen in front of her because she cant figure out the remote (for 5 hours). She barely speaks English (which is good because I frankly want to watch my 10 hours of movies in peace). At the tail end of the flight, they bring us sandwiches. I refuse mine. I cant eat on airplanes, the altitude messes with my stomach. The lady asks me to retreat my sandwich decline because she wants mine. But the stewardess moves to the next row. I tell her I have a hard time eating on airplanes. She understands.

"I have pooped 3 times." She declares very clearly and proudly. Then she continues on in broken English which I don't understand (and I am the queen of understanding broken English, look at my dating passport). Something about what she ate yesterday and what she didn't eat and it was really confusing. Oh yea, did I say she smelt the opposite of perfume?

REALLY Who says that?

Location: Gym locker room

After blow drying my hair, I walk over to my locker and there is a lady sitting on the bench next to my stuff. But it wasn't like she was sitting down, taking off her shoes, or getting a towel out, or brushing her hair. It was like she was sitting waiting for me. She smiled like she knew me as I approached my stuff. I said hi, she said hi. She started talking to me (or should I say at me). As I packed up my stuff, I found out everything about her minus her dogs name. Her summer vacation schedule, her childhood, her poor exercise habits, her two daughters, their ages and interests, their boyfriend status, her daughters friend who was trying to 'get attention' aka suicide, her daughters friends parents and their family dynamics...

REALLY, why me? My mom says its because I smile when I talk. But I don't think she understands that many cases I am not even talking, and in the case of bathroom incident, o-crazy-one didn't even see me. Only once can I say that attracting weirdos worked to my advantage.

The day I made 20 bucks in the SPA.

No, there was nothing perverse here. I was in the spa with a friend. There were two old men sitting on the other corner engrossed in a conversation in an other language (some middle eastern tongue). My friend and I were interrupted by one of the men.

"My friend here will pay me 20 if I come talk to you two." Says fat old man. And let me tell you, so smooth. Never heard anything smoother. Ha

Awkward silence. What did I care if he made 20 bucks?

"Ok, well, you're talking to us." I replied rudely. What did he want? To suddenly talk about the weather?

"Well, since you're talking, I will give you the 20 bucks."

"OK, I could use 20 bucks" I said without hesitation. That was much smoother. Now I am looking at the men differently. Like they are even fatter and stupider than I thought!!!

Then we talked about the weather for 5 minutes (not really, but the conversation was so boring we might as well been).

The arrangement was that we would meet the old fat greedy men in front of the gym to pay up. They payed and then asked us to lunch the next day. I said no, I had to work. How bout another day? No. How bout your number? No. How bout your friend? No, she has a boyfriend. Who cares? She does. Thanks for the 20 bucks. Bye.

Yuk...the nerve.

So that is how I made 20 bucks in the SPA.