Sometimes you feel like a nut. Sometimes you're kicked there...

I had an interesting weekend.  What's that?  You want me to TELL you about my interesting weekend?  OK, let's see how I can tip toe around this one...

Regardless of what you may believe, I don't enjoy a lot of unnecessary drama.  I have zero time for bullshit mind-games or pettiness.  Now, I have plenty of time for online games and heavy petting, but that's another blog...

There's a relationship in my life that seems to be a constant victim of poor timing.  Our signals get crossed, he's interested and I'm not, I'm interested and he's not, blah, blah, blah.  For whatever reason, we can't seem to get it together. Sadly, I think the ship finally sailed this weekend. 

I'm going to leave it at that (I said I was going to tip toe...you just got a lot of toe and no tip...insert inappropriate joke...).  I will say this - I'm sorry about the series of unfortunate events that lead you to "unfriend" me on Facebook and push me away (again).  Everything happens for a reason, so this time I'm accepting it and moving on.

I'm just going to lay this out there because I can't seem to form a proper sentence without erasing and starting over.  I'm having a bad month.  Actually, the past few months have been pretty shitty.  I've been working hard on holding it all together, but I'll be honest; the threads are kind of thin.  I am feeling stretched and pulled and beaten down.  All of which would be fine if I were pizza dough or a penis, but I'm neither.  OK, that's all I'm going to say about that, too.  I'm trying not to be a Debbie Downer, so I'll just put this out there into the universe and hope the universe sends me a message back, "I'm ready for the next chapter of my life to begin!"

On a lighter note, I'm going to end this blog with "Spiffy's Crazy Act of the Week."  I've mentioned before that I'm coo coo for Hot Dad who lives in the building across the way from me.  Hot Dad is your typical bald, buff, construction working, beer drinking, tattoo'd, Harley-riding bad ass.  He makes me fumble over my words and think nasty thoughts...(meeeeowww). Now I do realize it's highly unlikely we could have a conversation about politics, the last book he read or his thoughts on new Alternative music, but I'm pretty sure I could make him forget his name for a few minutes and vice versa. >:)

Moving on. Last week while I was outside picking up dog poop in the sweltering heat, he pulled up in his car.  I thought about hanging out for a minute to talk to him, when all of a sudden, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a skinny biker bimbo with big, fake boobs and a small derriere...DAMNIT! 

I immediatly decided that staying outside was a bad idea.  It was a much better idea to run to my window and spy on them (insert psycho music).  In case you were wondering, they left on his bike, returned about an hour later, he threw her the keys so she could go inside before she sweated off her multiple layers of ho-makeup and he talked to the fellow-Harley-riding-neighbors. 

Like I said...some things are just not meant to be, but I haven't let that fantasy go quite yet. (Universe...are you listening??) :)