Ok enough of that. So I met a guy I like. Yeah, it's possible. And met isn't exactly the right word since I've known him somewhere around a couple of years. But only recently in the biblical sense. (The way we met involves Jump, Little Children so I'll spare you the details.) He's not my type at all, being that he's smart (maybe smarter than me GASP), unjockish, about as musical as techno (meaning not at all), not certifiably crazy (although sometimes I wonder...), not going to have to be admitted into Betty Ford anytime soon, and quite the dork but in a way I find kinda endearing. He makes me laugh and it's only in mockery half the time! And he and I both love Stevenpoo! But the big thing is he doesn't annoy me. We stayed on the phone for about two hours the other night and I didn't once try to think of an excuse to get away. I also have reason to believe we'd be very physically compatible. ::cough cough:: But of course, I have the luck of the Irish... he lives 3 hours away. He better be glad too cause if he didn't I'd be cruising the makeup aisle at Wal-Mart and writing "JIE + TLT" in little hearts on my notebooks. hehe. And Steven would be jabbing my eyes out with a paper clip. But it's so rare that I meet people that I want to be friends with, have a romantic interest in, and also enjoy having sex with that his ego should be ballooning. Which is not a good thing since I've already stroked it to the point of ejaculation. Um. Ok I'll leave that there even though it's a bad bad analogy.

By the way Steven is disgusted that two of his mutual friends "hooked up." He said, and I quote, "ah, ugh, ah god, Tia, that's like thinking about my parents fuck." Which I found hilarious. If we actually started to have a "thing" he would be consistently vomiting. hehe... but hey since Steven and I share a digestive system that could be fun. I'd eat a whole lot and then get really cutesie, "I miss my wittle Jussie soooo much, I feel like a piece of me is has been torn asunder!... oh look my Jay-bear is back... Sweetie you were gone to the bathroom an AWFULLY long time... NEVER EVER LEAVE ME AGAIN. I wuv ew sooooo much." Hehe... Wait... No, I'd end up making myself vomit.

I'm a little intrigued by my sudden "like" of him though. (I'm leaving out his name because, while I don't care, there's that whole kiss and tell rule.) I waited awhile to see if it was just that glow of fond feelings you get after you've had good sex. But I've had good sex before and... well as sad as it may seem I haven't always liked the person I was having good sex with. But I realized the other day, while I was riding around in the country enjoying the unseasonably cool weather we've been having, that it was a bit more than that. Because while I was riding around I was thinking of something I could do that would please him. That's not so strange, I enjoy pleasing people and making their day a little bit better. (no one out there choke) But while I was thinking about doing something nice, like maybe a flower or a card (I should own stock in Hallmark), my thinking went on a tangent. I'd like to please him a whole lot more. If he'd prefer I wear my hair down, then that's the way I'd wear it. If he'd like me to wear skirts more often, then I'd do so. If he'd prefer that I never tell a specific joke again, or use a specific word then I wouldn't... at least not around him. And that is fucking weird. I normally don't give a flying crapola if my person, personality, wardrobe, or anything else pleases anybody. I was just kinda sorta talking to this guy (Steven, think Joe Muggs, Chinese dragons, and D&D) and one day out of the blue while I'm lighting up he says, "Baby, please don't... for me." I said nothing but continued to smoke my fucking cigarette. And I made a point of smoking as much as I possibly could around him from then on. I normally become very aggressively angry when guys say crap like that or even try to hint that I should do something differently. In my mind they're trying to "change" me. So this thought of voluntarily changing myself to suit his preference is way out of the norm. Not only that, but I wish I knew his preferences so that I could change myself to suit them without him having to specify. Not only is it out of the norm, it's fucking weird. (However I'm pretty sure if he tried to change some of the things that are intrinsically "Tia" then I'd get pretty pissed... or if he specified his wishes in a way I found a little too pushy...) I just thank god he doesn't live near me, he or I one would be in trouble. hehe. So, what, you ask, am I going to do about this guy? Not a thing. Hopefully if I ignore it long enough it will go away.

And speaking of "like," I have a stupid friend. Now don't get me wrong, I love him even though he's stupid but give me a goddamned break would ya? He can't seem to figure out why this girl he's interested in is not taking the hint. Get your own clue fellah! Jesus H. Christ. Ok, my stupid friend is not only stupid but cheap too. He and the girl he's interested in go out together often and he never offers to pay for a single thing. There's an old saying that goes something like, "If we go dutch, you get no cunt." Well it's not exactly old, I just made it up, but it applies! I can make up more, see; "If you don't pay you get no lay," "Not showing her the money? No blowjob honey!" "Want to see my snatch? Got to buy the ticket AND the snacks!" "If you like touching twat, it's gonna cost alot!" Ok, I'm sorry, I'll stop now.

While money doesn't always show that you care, it does guide the way for romance, at least in the beginning. While gender roles do tend to piss me off from time to time I normally fall right into them. I even understand them. Guys pay to show that they're interested. Now after you've been dating a guy for a while it's not his sole responsibility to pay for everything. It's just in the beginning when you're both testing ground. As a chick, kinda, I understand where this comes from completely. If I'm out with friends we all pay for our own crap. The thing that lets me know that a guy is interested in me (or getting ass) is if he offers to pay for my crap. Not only does my stupid friend let his wannabe girlfriend pay for her own crap, he does none of the sweet stuff that people interested in each other do. No flowers, no candy, no stuffed bear out of the blue... now granted all that is clichéd but it'd still be something. If I got flowers it'd make me smile, I betcha it'd even make me predisposed to like whoever sent them a little more. I bet if someone turned up at my job or house with a little gift, just to brighten my day, be it a VIP backstage pass to see Matchbox Twenty (see I'm a good fan, if they change it to XX I'll use that too) or a popsicle, I'd start feeling a little more amorous towards them. Granted though the VIP pass would be like guaranteed ass. hehe. But does he do any of this crap? Noooooooooo...No siree Bob! He treats her like she's me! And he's not going to be getting any ass from me for the next couple of millennia. So that said, I'd just like to tell all the guys out there who may be reading this; YES, you still have to pay. And no, it does not mean you automatically get ass. It means you have to pay. It does not mean that you now have a girlfriend, you just have to pay. It does not guarantee so much as a second date or a goodnight kiss, BUT YOU STILL HAVE TO PAY! Whew. Got a little excited there for a moment. My stupid friend also never ever touches the chick... no hand on the back while they're walking or he’s ushering her through a door, which I love by the way, no intertwined fingers, no teasing of the hair. None of it. BUOERUSLDKJF. And he has the audacity to whine about not getting anywhere with her. pfft. I give and give and give advise and who listens? WHO? He should watch getting me so worked up. I almost turned into my mom there for a minute. "I'm sick and tired...." Me too Mom, me too.

While we're talking about gender roles I'd just like to say that most of my last post was bullshit meant to piss people off. And it did, and it was fuuuuuuuuuun. I don't like most chicks, and a lot of times it's because they're too preoccupied with men and/or fashion to have any other thoughts. But I do not apply that to women in general. And I don't decide not to like someone based on their sex. I actually have some really girly friends who are VERY concerned with guys and/or fashion (Skye, Sharon, Shanna, Shannon.... well to make a long list short almost every straight girl I've ever known.) but they're able to think of other things as well. And as much as this may shock some of the people who didn't know me before college, I was actually pretty girly myself. And to further shock you I have a little antidote from my grade school years. I was in the GATE Way program until ninth grade when I decided it wasn't actually cool to be smart. (GATE Way is Dillon's version of gifted classes; it stands for Gifted And Talented Education Way, what fucking sense does that make. And they separated us from the rest of the student body like we were contagious. Too bad we weren't. I guess the rest of the classes were SAD Way: Stupid And Degenerate... Way.) In the fifth or sixth grade our class was assigned an, um, assignment. We were to decide what we wanted to be when we grow up (... I'm still confused), interview someone in that profession, and give a class presentation about it. I decided that I wanted to be a Stay-At-Home-Wife-And-Mother. This was a valid profession to me and something that I had always wanted to be. Up until I was about 17 or 18 I wanted nothing more from life than a husband and six children to take care of, yes I said six (6) and if you're still having trouble here's the roman numeral: VI. My teacher (female), however, who did not see this as an actual career, laughed at me and told me to pick something else. I choose veterinarian... I'm severely allergic to cats, semi-allergic to dogs, and not really fond of birds. I guess I was sardonic back then too.

I’ve got to get out of Dillon. I was at work the other night and there was a big drug bust at the convenience store across the street. I found it amusing (although the poor young guy who was being arrested probably found it very incommodious hehe I slay me). Then I remembered all the times when I was younger and I’d see a drug bust happening on the side of the road and I’d drive around it a few times trying to figure out if I knew the person who was getting arrested. Then a day later I was at a stop light behind some obvious white trash. Some people coming the opposite way slowed down, rolled down their window, yelled some obscenities at the car in front of me and speed away. The yellee jerked their car into motion made a U-turn and followed their verbal attackers. I thought it was funny and smiled with fond remembrance of the similar chases I had had with similar white trash. Ah the good old days. But then I came to my senses and remembered that I had quit being white trash for a reason… not enough pay! Oh how I long for the days of fights at the Old Racetrack, in a fast food parking lots, or even the grocery store… and oh meeting guys who bathe infrequently in the “cruise line”… of drunken nights spent talking with “Indian” drug dealers and dirty cops who would sell you beer. Oh and we mustn’t forget the white guys in fake little gangs that carried cheap knifes and told us not to “playah hate.” Cause they are SOOO sexy. “Thug bitches know what I mean.” Calgon take me away!

And furthermore I just want to say: Lick it now lick it good, lick that shit just like you should. My neck, my back, my [radio edit] uh jus like dat.