Ooops, Did I Do That?

Maybe it was the winning streak with the Diet Cokes or um, those 4 beers I had at the Nine Inch Nails new album listening party... who knows? Anyways, I officially drunk dialed... I didn't even ask my friend to do it this time, so I could stick to 40 days/40 nights getting off on a technicality. Yes, I called Stupid Boy. And I feel slightly stupid myself. I suppose, however, at some points in our lives we do these silly things... some of us do these silly things more than others... ahem, me... yeah, I do stupid shit... this has already been established... and maybe instead of always beating myself up about it... I should just laugh it off and move on to the next stupid thing... that's life... that's me. I suppose I should take one safety precaution as to not inundate one person (Stupid Boy) with my silly things... When my fingers leave this key board, they'll find their way to my cell phone... and Delete - Delete - Delete... Stupid Boy's number will be gone.
But, I'm still totally RAD... as Lynz M. calls it, I'm APRAD. I'm just a RAD girl doin' stupid stuff, here and there! :)

I Can't Lose

The past four Diet Cokes that I've purchased have all been winners, "You Win 1-Liter, Coke Product." They say 1 in 6 wins, and believe me I've been drinkin'. It hasn't been until this weekend and week that everyone I open is finally a winner. So, Miss Curious, is going to take this winning streak and remind herself that she's a fucking winner... no more of this, "I'm pathetic, no boys like me crap..." C'mon now, I'm RAD... so RAD that I keep winning FREE Diet Cokes... and when I stop winning FREE Diet Cokes, I'm still going to be RAD. I'm so RAD!!! RAD-RAD-RAD!
Thank you very much folks... you can get your cd's at the door... 1 in 6 wins an "i'm rad" t-shirt.

Boo Fucking Hoo!

There's nothing like a good cold to make you feel completely alone in the world. There you are covers to your nose, a pile of kleenex at your side, and the absence of mommy and daddy all too present. Will I be 75 still missing mommy and daddy all red-nosed and coughing, ringing my lil' bell for more soup? Does that feeling ever go away? As soon as we leave the nest, we have to take care of our own lil' sickness. How miserable is that?

So I started calling my sisters, my friends... "oh what, huh, you're at work? oh, um, yeah, I'm fine... you know, just calling to say hi!" And then, I hang up the phone and twiddle my thumbs, cough some more, do my miserable lil' zombie-walk to the bathroom, glance at the pathetic look on my face, sniffle, sniffle. Boo-hoo. It's like in the movie Garden State... Zach Braff addresses our ideas of "home"... like what feels like home anymore? Now that we're older, we hop around from place to place... and we get sick... and nothing's quite the same as it was when we lived with our parents... when we lived in the place where we grew up... do we ever get that feeling of "home" back? He suggests we do... when we start our own family... and you better believe my kids will stay home from school whenever mommy April is sicky... hahaha.... I'll be putting those bratts to work! It'll sure beat alone on Cole Street :(... could I wallow in the quagmire of my own self-pity anymore???

Okay Fine.

So, Stupid Boy's gone... all gone. And fine, I'm accepting it. And yeah, I'm attempting to do this silly 40 days/40 nights thing, but really, I'm looking for a good reason to break it. Where is my good reason to break it already? I'm such a weakling it's unbelievable. So you all now know, I'm weak, I'm a bitch, I'm boy crazy, I'm shallow... I mean Jesus... I was made by the Devil herself. I just like thinking about someone... fantasizing, not in a pornographic way, but more of a Bridget Jones walking down the aisle psychotic way. Wow, hm, so you're all in my head. I mean, okay, so maybe I didn't want to throw Stupid Boy down and have crazy sex, but he was funny... and I miss our emails... now everythings back to business. Why the fuck doesn' t he miss my emails? Why the fuck doesn't he like me? Hahaha! I mean what's not to like, I'm the Devil Incarnate... I mean that's a big deal. This post is pretty jumbled.

Be Nice.

Why am I such a bitch? I know it’s, ahem, that time of the month where we’re all a lil’ more irritable, but even aside from this week, I’m a total bitch! I really want to be nice. I really really do. I run entire conversations through my head, where I say something horrific, the person gets his or her feelings hurt, and then I feel bad. So, I’m standing there screaming in my head, “Don’t say it! Don’t say it!” And, oh shit, there it went. I said it. It’s like where the fuck is my control? And why the fuck am I thinking such mean thoughts? I should be chill. I should just let things roll off my back… not sweat shit. But I’m the complete opposite, and I fucking hate it!

So, “God” goes and makes a few people… sets our world up to essentially be interdependent, but what the fuck, we all can’t get along? Throughout our days we’re constantly antagonizing one another, rolling our eyes, talking shit.

We have all these lil’ insecurities, like “why didn’t so and so invite me to her birthday?” or “oh, you hung out with so and so without me, hm, that’s cool.” Is it age? I used to have a lot more patience and confidence (okay, relatively speaking), and I didn’t really care what people thought of me… I was just April, trying to be nice, like me or don’t. Now I’m a high-strung bitch who’s so fucking self-aware she’s being a bitch that it’s not even fun!

G-Rated

Non-animated G movies are highly underrated. Yesterday, “Ice Princess” just happened to be starting the time it takes to walk to the theater after clocking out from work. I mean, all those esoteric / artsy ‘films’ (yes ‘films’, not ‘movies’) I wanted to see were starting at such inopportune times, so I had no choice but to see Disney’s latest release. It was well worth the $8 ticket. I went looking to leave with a particular feeling, you know, that happy feel good feeling… where everything you want to happen does happen. There are a lot of movies that are predictable, but not all of them are hit the right chords. This one does and did. I mean the dorky brainiac girl getting the guy and becoming popular by just being her dorky-self is a classic… it just doesn’t get better than that!

The Sun is Shining the Weather is Sweet... Even Though It's Raining Outside.

Sour gummie-worms and cheddar bacon potato skins paint my palette perfectly after inhaling potent pot. It’s funny how every conversation, every song, every vision reminds me of food when I smoke. Yes, everything brings me back to wanting, needing food.

Train of Thought of Toker:

Listening to Tori Amos’ new album “The Beekeeper”… I think bees, I think honeycomb, I think cereal, I think fruit loops and cocoa puffs and lucky charms and Cap’N’Crunch or even better Cap’N’Crunch w/ Crunch berries.

Or listening to Gwen Stefani’s new album… smoking partner mentions, “I’m going to miss Gwen when I take my trip to New York”… naturally New York evokes pizza evokes pepperoni evokes mushrooms evokes spicy buffalo wings dipped in ranch dressing.

Enough Toke’ Talk…. Update on 40 Days / 40 Nights:

My mind has certainly shifted focus… Stupid Boy hasn’t fully disappeared as we’re doing a lot of business together… and we do email a lot, but not at my initiation. I’m realizing my affections for him are that of kinship, which I’m thoroughly enjoying. I feel serene… content… I have that ‘I’m just waking up from a nap in the middle of summer vacation and I can fall back asleep if I really wanted to’ type feeling. I like it. Don’t fully trust it yet, but I’m hopeful.

Shout Out

I'd like to give a shout out to ambs and linz for a great dinner last night... w/ some amazing girl talk... thanks for making me feel somewhat normal in my boy craziness... I suppose these post-collegiate days we have to worry about something if it's not mid-terms and papers and graduating... it's now law school and boys and marriage and waking up too early every morning.

Right now I'm listening to Bobby Brown's album, "Don't Be Cruel." "Roni" was my "mom and dad do we have to switch schools? i hate you! i hate life".... turn-up the "Roni"!!!!

It Happened Again!!!

I feel like a complete ASS!!!! I thought 40 days/40 nights would eliminate such encounters, but of course not!!!!! Everyone here in the office knows everything about everyone, so when Goofy, I mean Stupid Boy's co-worker comes in today, my co-workers and bosses (yes, bosses) all find it their personal responsibility to talk to him about me and Goofy Boy.... but of course Goofy, again, I mean Stupid Boy's co-worker already knew... so what, Stupid Boy's talking about me too? What that I have some big crush on his Stupid ASS??!?!?! This post is clearly fueled by frustration and girly ridiculousness. Moral of the story -- there is no way to escape feeling like a complete DUMBASS!!! Like they say in American Beauty, "everything that's supposed to happen does... eventually," and in this case, Miss Curious is apparently supposed to feel like a dumbass... why postpone the inevitable.

Hmm.

"All I Want Is Everything!"
but will that even be enough?

Slight Revision...

5. No Initiating Phone Calls or Emails.
6. And, NO DRUNK DIALING.

** Failure to comply with ALL 6 rules for 40 days and 40 nights, results in... hmm, self-inflicted punishment is yet to be decided, suggestions?

40 Days and 40 Nights

There comes a time in a woman’s life when she realizes that being “boy crazy” is for kids. I’d like to think I’m finally reaching this realization at the over-ripe age of 26. After a Monday of emailing back and forth with Stupid Boy (aka Goofy Boy, thank you Lindsey Hulse), and thinking why would SB email me over 20 times (literally) today if he weren’t interested, I had high hopes. These high hopes came crashing down over an awkward phone call at the end of the work-day. That’s all it took, one weird phone call to make me feel like a complete ass again…. To make me feel like some desperate “boy crazy” silly ridiculous girl. Well, I’m tired of feeling like such an idiot, and so, I have a proposition for myself; a challenge for my mind and my heart… a self-induced lent (similar to that of the beloved Josh Hartnett w/ a few alterations)

Here Are the Rules:

1. For the next 40 days, NO PHYSICAL CONTACT with any single heterosexual men.
2. No asking for telephone numbers, email addresses, dates, drinks, etc.
(he can ask me, and I can choose to go or give, but I must remain true to rule #1)
3. No “do you fucking like me or what?” questions.
4. No ALL DAY emailing sessions, don't give any boy a thing to go on... nip shit in the bud.

Strategy:

- See an attractive male, simply look the other way.
- The mind is a powerful thing: deter thoughts from the male realm.
- Focus on friends and family.
- Set self-improvement goals to enrich the woman that I am.
- Meditate.
- Suggestions??????

So ladies and gentlemen, I have until April 23… place your bets!

Buffalo '66

I could’ve been born in the Midwest with parents who were the same size and had the same length hair so that you couldn’t tell them apart from behind, parents who wore matching buffalo football jackets and spoke as though the t.v. were always on with the volume turned up. I could have gone to church every Sunday and truly believed that everyone was going to hell. I could have been in and out of jail trying to shake the temper I inherited from my father. I could have only wished that an immediate family member wouldn’t die for the sole reason of not wanting to visit home and not because I cared. I could’ve married the one person who asked me because I feared that no one would ever ask again and because even though he hits me, he doesn’t mean it. I could have been barren when I only wanted a child to have one friend in the world. I could have died on my way to a job where no one would even notice I wasn’t there.
But this isn’t my life.
Instead, I sit here and voice my grievances over stupid boys. That’s pretty fucking lucky.

Quick Note:

All the conversations posted, thus far, are the actual cut and pasted emails... verbatim.

Might As Well Face It You're Addicted To...

We all know the standard addictions; drugs, alcohol, sex, diet coke… however, it’s the addictions that aren’t as obvious that truly hold us back. If we could recognize them, we’ve taken the first step to recovery. A few months ago, I encountered a young man who suggested that I might be addicted to rejection. I hadn’t ever considered the possibility of that even being an addiction. I hadn’t fully understood what he meant, but today, I think I finally understand. And, today, I think I agree with that young man. As many of you know or are beginning to notice, I have a tendency to preemptively strike a prospective love interest with the question of, “do you fucking like me or what?” I never even gave the sucker a chance to like me. Eddie, the owner of the deli next door, tells me a guy has to have nothing “here”, and he points to his temple, to not like me (maybe he’s right or maybe he likes that I keep him in business with my diet coke consumption). Well, since I typically wouldn’t be attracted to a man who has nothing up “there,” there must be another explanation. It could be / can be a combination of things. I’m not attractive enough, thin enough, interesting enough, quiet enough… and now a new one, didn’t give him enough time… gave the ultimatum right off the bat. And I can see why it’s addictive. When you start to like someone, you have this immediate rush of emotion. When you lay it on the line for the guy, “hey like me or not,” and you get a “no,” although it’s not what you want to hear, it’s still an immediate rush of counter-feelings. It’s that immediate passion and pain. Give me the passion and give me the pain. I seem to love it, live for it. But as I’ve experienced an abundance of “pain” (pain is of course relative… this pain is rather small in the whole scheme of things) I realize that pain accrued overtime, doesn’t feel so hot. It just isn’t a funny story anymore. Granted I’ve dished out my bit of pain to a boy here and a boy there, but those emotions don’t stick with you… you want to nip those feelings in the bud. You always remember getting dumped or rejected. Moral of the story… someone please shoot me, when I act too fast. Remind me that I need to give the brotha’ a chance to like miss curious / miss april / miss goofy girl.

Goofy Girl's Impatience Gets Her The Answer

Goofy Girl to Goofy Boy:
i'm trying to relive my high school days and gossip about who has a crush on who.
your prowess on the dance floor really won me over, so now i have a crush on you.
again, i have no shame.

Goofy Boy to Goofy Girl:
Well how about I let you chase me around the school yard, and then you can tell people that you don’t just like me but you like like me.

GG to GB:
what i'd really love is to chase you around the school yard... while you go and pull kathy's pigtails... that'll make me run faster... but eventually i'd realize you're never gonna' pull my pigtails because they're just not as cute as the other girls... my pigtails are of the goofy kind.

GB to GG:
Nice extended metaphore.

GG to GB:
Metaphor.

GB to GG:
Metafor.

GG to GB:
Metagofuckyourself.

GB to GG:
Metadick.

GG to GB:
and his name is [goofy boy].

GB to GG:
you win!

Ultimately, Goofy Boy talks Goofy Girl in circles... if he were interested, he would have taken the opportunity with her crush comments to turn in his favor. But, being impatient and not wanting to waste her precious crush thoughts, Goofy Girl is simply glad she knows the answer... even if it wasn't an answer she wanted to hear. And so, the single Goofy Girl lookin' for ridiculous love crosses Goofy Boy off the list... and is eager to meet the next victim... until one day, they're both victims to each other.

Goofy Girl Seeks Advice

5 months ago... Goofy Girl and Goofy Boy start emailing. The emails begin as business and quickly progress to personal. Goofy Boy invites himself out with Goofy Girl and Goofy Girl's friends. They have some good laughs, but the night ends early, so Goofy Girl writes him off. Goofy boy does the same. A few weeks later, Goofy Girl and Goofy Boy see each other at a company function. Naturally, GG loves the lack of attention from GB, so after a few more glasses of champagne, GG is in Hot Pursuit. Next morning, GG has to learn from her co-workers that she briefly made-out with GB and proceeded to grab Goofy Boy's ass when he walked by. The apologetic email from GG to GB ensues, "Sorry I violated you in so many different ways last night... by the way, did I really grab your ass?" He says he liked it, but GG's embarassed and disappears.
The email relationship between GG and GB goes back to strictly business.
Skip to present... Goofy Girl's in the middle of a few tricky transactions w/ Goofy Boy at work, so after the time has passed, they decide to get together for some drinks. Goofy Girl brings a friend and Goofy Boy does the same. GG and GB sit close at the bar. He buys her a drink after she reveals heightened horniness levels with the increased consumption of alcohol. He does the traditional touch her leg and shoulder squeeze when talking to her. The conversation all around is very successful; however, the guessing game begins. Who likes who? Goofy Girl likes Goofy Boy, but it seems that GB likes GG's friend, and GB's friend seems to like GG. GG's friend doesn't like anyone because they're "just too young." Everyone goes back to GB's house, drink more, talk more, lie on the couch... foot-rubs are offered up... head-rubs too... GB rests his head in GG's lap, but he doesn't stay long enough. GG wants more. Goofy Girl and Goofy Boy do Goofy dances. But Goofy Boy seems to be talking A LOT to Goofy Girl's friend. Sometimes he can't even look at Goofy Girl. Goofy Girl's so uncertain. GG and GB smoke out on the back porch, but GB seems eager to get back inside. What started with some certainties ended with too many uncertainties. Hugs good-night.
This morning... Goofy Boy emails Goofy Girl about business, first thing. GG says thanks for the good times... the day continues with emails back and forth. GB's casual, hard to read, but so much fun... so vulgar... remembers everything GG ever tells him. She likes it. She gets giddy when she sees his name in her in-box.
Here's the advice Goofy Girl needs: do nothing? do something? we work together on occasion... he knows everyone in my office... everyone would know if I did something... and was rejected. He's sooo hard to read. GG's friend thinks GB likes GG, but still no definitives. he seems like the type that doesn't make the first move. It's known that GG is the type. What oh what does she do????????
---- Goofy Girl

Annals of the Anti-Sex

Last night, staring back at myself in the mirror, I had a moment of clarity. I suddenly realized that I have become the Anti-Sex. When you’re not in a relationship nor have any interest in anyone, you begin to see the world through different eyes, and the world begins trying not to see you through their eyes at all. I closely examined the shape my appearance was now assuming, starting at the socks. They were pink and pink striped, pulled half way up the calves, and speaking of calves, can I say they’re kept warm by the “extension of my bikini line,” yeah gross. Then there are the boxers, floral and speckled with black hair dye and god knows what else complemented by an oversized white champion t-shirt with cut-off sleeves that I took from my mom’s closet, not because it was cute, but because she’d never notice it was gone nor care. We won’t even delve into the quagmire of my “looks like I just got back from running on a humid day on the east coast” hair and face. Ultimately, with no prospects in sight and no real care to find any, becoming the Anti-Sex was and is very natural. And spare me the…. Here’s the admission… Yup, going to admit something here to myself and to all those that I’ve lied to… I don’t remove the bikini line leggings just for me. I mean c’mon, I’m not going to endure the pain and suffering of lying face down with my hands spreading my butt cheeks, so Ms. Ho Chi Mihn from “YooYa Nows (Union Nails)” can pour hot wax down my ass-crack while she tells her friend on the phone in Vietnamese how she hates her job and can cover the heads of a hundred bald men and stuff a thousand pillows, extra-firm, with the hair I have in my crack alone. No, I’m not suffering that shit when I KNOW someone other than me and Thuy Nguyen will NOT being seeing the results. And there I was, the Anti-Sex, lying in bed with my childhood androgynous amputated bear still sporting pink pin-stripped cabbage patch overalls decorated with dinosaurs (no joke) and right leg just as furry as my own, and said to him-her, “Rainbow (actual name; hence the androgyny) it’s just you and me kid.”

Door Closed.

He called. DV, that is. I knew he would, and in the back of my mind, I knew what he was going to say. As I held my breath, he said everything I needed to hear, but didn't want to hear. And it stung... and I found myself clawing at his words... searching for something that might covince him otherwise, something, anything... but in the end, his words prevailed... and I was left alone. But was I really alone? Do I think DV was my long lost soul-mate? Do I think he was as Carrie Bradshaw puts it, "Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love?" The answer is No.

The evening didn't end here.

With lipstick and cigarettes in tow, I headed out the door for a DATE.
If April's date were on Friendster, his profile would be like this...
Age: 35
Features: Brown Eyes - Brown Hair - Medium Height
Interests: Music, Art, Strangers with Candy, Reno 911
Hobbies: Pussy-Licking
Friends in Common: Elizebeth Randall

Sounds perfect. And on paper is perfect. Good conversationalist, funny, adorable... but missing what? What is it? What is that "thing"? That "thing" that is just there or it isn't. In this case, unfortunately that "thing" just wasn't.

My evening began with a desperate attempt to convince DV to be me with... and ended with a desperate attempt of someone to convince me to be with him. Funny how things go... I suppose all is fair in love and war. So here I am on a Friday morning, and I feel good. I feel very good.

Clinically Insane?

It began with...

Miss Curious' Email to DV:
busy this sunday? even if you have some lil' girlfriend these days, you still better hang out w/ me one night... just to say what's up after some time now.if you're busy sunday... free another day perhaps? or think it's not a good idea? hahaha, i think it's a great idea!april :)

DV to Miss Curious:
I know I know I know I know we need to hang out. Just not this weekend. So busy... Work is kicking my ass and band stuff is finally kicking in. No comment on the 'lil girlfriend comment... dork. Soon? Bye Miss G. d

Miss Curious to DV: (the classic insecure response... acting like you're okay)
hahaha... putting me off?well, are you dating someone... just curious.you don't need to be careful with me... i have the usual list of freaky-ass stalkers.... some good - some bad.anywaysssss... all i ever ask is for you to be completely straight with me about anything... you can always say no.

DV to Miss Curious:
Not putting you off... I'm not doing anything but work this weekend. No girlfriends. I don't think...

Miss Curious to DV: (Psychotic Stalker-self Becoming More Apparent)
you mean i'm not your girlfriend?
we spend every night together.... granted, i'm usually outside your house in a tent or on my bike... so maybe not together, but perhaps "near"... anywayssss dude, i'd actually really like to see you... for a quick bite to eat... so if indeed you aren't against one dinner, then work it out buddy.... then you're off the hook!
i'm not goin' easy on you here, hahaha... when are you free next week then?

Miss Curious Waits for Response... No Response... Still No Response...

Miss Curious to DV: (Psychotic Stalker EXPOSED!!)
okay... i suppose i'll just come right out with it... if it wasn't already obvious enough, i have completely no power around you... STILL!? i think i secretly hoped (or not so secretly anymore) that we'd miraculously make things work / get back together (can't believe i'm putting this in print)... that we just needed to get further from some of our bumps... and i meet these guys and go on dates... and i'm so bored with them.... i still can't stop thinking about you. not at all. and i know i'm being some silly crazy girl who's just not letting go... but i know i need to... and i'm trying to... and i suppose this wild desperation to see you is to let you go... when i'm hanging out with some other guy, all i find myself saying is, "he's not dennis"... and i don't know if it's because i've never been dumped and you hold the title... but in my mind you're perfect... and i completely understand that i think way tooo much - this has been established w/ us over and over again - and i completely know i'm being "that girl" that you can tell stories about to your friends... but i'm asking you to just tell me that it will never happen... and that i need to move on... that you could never see yourself with me ever again.

DV to Miss Curious: (Oh, You Were at a Meeting, Ooopps!)
Whoa. I get back from a meeting and find this!!! I'm way too crazy right now to address this properly. Let's get together soon. I honestly don't know what I think. I've been hiding in my busy-ness to even think about it.

Door Left Slightly Ajar... Just Enough for Miss Curious to Hold On.
She's a FOOL... Again!