The Over-Educated Nympho

If you somehow managed to miss in this clear and well-written post that I met a couple guys on Saturday night, here’s the sober translation. Which has to be brief because I’m on my lunch hour.

The Saturday of Halloween my girl posse and I got all dressed up in our highly inappropriate outfits and went to a party that Blondie’s friend was throwing. Blondie’s friend had many many many guy friends there. Many of whom were looking a little too guido for my taste, but there were still some yummy ones to choose from.

Although I was introduced to everyone, I spent most of the party chatting up a cute short guy. Who later gave me his phone number (I did not ask, but I didn’t mind either) and then a few minutes later said he wasn’t dating because he had a fiance. Er, ex-fiance. It was never clear. He kept changing his stance on the situation. Needless to say, he crossed himself off the list.

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I was not doing well over the weekend. I could feel the Depression Beast fighting its way out. Yesterday wasn’t so good either. I was quiet at work (normally I’m a smartass chatterbox, as you could imagine) and I barely ate all day.

So when Dad called to tell me he would be in town and need to stay with me for three nights instead of one like he originally said, I wasn’t exactly jumping for joy. When I’m pissy I want to be alone. My father is a happy smiley type so he has never really understood that whole side of me (and frankly, good for him).

He arrived last night with a truck full of furniture for me. We unloaded it and managed to get the bed and bookcases up three flights of stairs and then promptly rewarded ourselves with beer and some licks of the pasta sauce I was making.

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