03.24.08
Confessional From The Bathroom Floor
The past few days has been hell, torture, and all things in-between. I’ll get my posts all caught up one of these days. The other evening, Bill called me. He wanted to go talk over drinks at some sports bar. At first, I kept saying no because I had made a salad and cooked this really good little flatbread pizza. He eventually wore me down enough and dinner was wrapped up and put in the fridge. I put on some jeans, a UGA t-shirt, my Nikes, and a cute cotton jacket from Old Navy; I was trying to tone down the glam-girl look he had seen at the wedding, hoping/praying that he would go back to being the genius best friend. I even shoved some bobby pins in my hair and was able to get it into a skinny rubberband. I was rockin’ the “just left the leash and pedometer by the door” look if I do say so myself.
Extremely long story short, Bill ended up drunk as a effin’ skunk, calling me from the mens’ bathroom. I went in to drag him out, which turned into him confessing his love for me and his idiocy for never telling me. Needless to say, I got the bartender todrag his ass into a cab and left him. It’s one thing to get drunk off your face, I’ll help you get home and maybe even stay to make sure you go to sleep on your side with a trashcan, aspirin, and water nearby, but when you tell me how much you love me, beg me to be with you, and cry about how you wished you were with me rather than “Andre The Giant,” (which I had, and will continue to have, a good laugh about this) I go from nursemaid to cold, hard bitch who leaves your dumb ass on the nasty tiled floor of the mens’ bathroom.
When I got home, Scott was sleeping in my recliner with Georgia on his feet, one of my blankets across his body, his glasses sliding down his face, and his laptop on the verge of becoming buddies with the floor. I just stood, stared at this picture of peacefulness and love, and may have even cried a bit. He awoke once he heard me moving around in the bedroom as I changed and got ready to go to sleep. “How was your evening out?” He asked in that sexy groggy way as he scratched the growing shadow on his chin and cheeks.
I turned to him with a smile and hugged him tightly. I figured I’d tell him when I wasn’t so emotional. And, I did! Ta-dah! I told him last night when he spotted me checking my phone for the millionth time because Bill has been calling and texting all the damn time. He’s apologized, asked for forgiveness, blamed it on the alcohol, asked to be my friend, you name it. I’m just reading and deleting baby, that is until Scott asked. I had to tell him the whole story over a glass of wine with our dinner. He got pissed, whoo! did he get pissed, but I calmed him down (and even made him laugh) with his new nickname and the fact that I left the guy lying on the bathroom floor. I have a nagging feeling that Scott suspects that I’m involved with Bill, which is never, hear me NEVER, going to happen. Scott’s too sweet, smart, kind, tough, protective, caring, funny, and all that wrapped in a hot package (plus I love him to no end) for me to betray loyalty like that. No way, jose!
All this added onto the week I had in Savannah makes me a very stressed out person. I hope everybody’s Easter was nice; I spent Easter working from bed, eating some of the chocolate that Scott and I bought. My covers have officially dominated my will and hold it hostage at the most opportune moments for me! 
03.19.08
Can’t Do Anything Right
Well, my new motto has become “Damned if I do, Damned if I don’t.” Tuesday evening my mother put my father in the hospital down in Savannah. I was paying bills and working in Quick-Books when she called to tell me.
About a year ago, my father was hospitalized with a heart attack. He spent a few weeks in the hospital, had some surgery, and went home with a lot of meds and strict instructions to make himself healthier
So, for the past year, he’s been taking all these different medicines, and he gets messed up at times because of a reason nobody has been able to figure out.
Well, he had another heart attack… a bad one. Once they had him in the hospital, he was basically catatonic. He was breathing and everything on hs own, but he wasn’t responding to noise or touch for a day and a half. I drove down to Savannah with Scott on Wednesday; we spent the whole day at the hospital with my mom and my sister. Thursday, I parked in the waiting room and worked on the laptop. Scott had to leave that morning, but it didn’t bother me because I had slept in his arms at my parents’ home. Without him, I would have probably broken down when I left the hospital. He promised to get his work To-Go and come back the next day. I kissed him and told him not to worry because I was coming back the next day.
My dad is conscious, and I’m not worrying too bad because he asked me why I wasn’t at work. He’s got a lot of problems going on, and they’re still trying to get him stable before they tackle the reason behind him getting this bad in the first place.
I have been offering to stay with him so my mom can go back to work, but she doesn’t want to leave him (even though he’s awake and nothing has changed for 2 days), but my sisters got pissed at me for driving back up to Atlanta instead of staying in Savannah the entire time. Nobody in my family really understands what it takes to run a business and keep things running smoothly by yourself. Communication in my family has never been perfect (we’re a family of evaders), but it’s gotten worse since I moved away for college. I grew into a different person because of all the things I experienced, and they are still the same.
Everybody deals with things differently. Most of my family can handle going to the hospital Everyday and sitting with him, but I’m the black sheep somehow. I can’t sit there and just watch and listen to him. One: I go stir crazy and have to be doing something. Two: It tears me up to sit there and listen to his ragged breathing.
My family has been researching heart surgeries and transplants and junk. I’ve been killing my bank account driving down there when I can, but my job is more demanding than my father. I talked to him on speakerphone. He told me to go to work, take care of my dogs, and be careful. That’s all I need; never needed anybody else’s approval but his.
I don’t have time right now, but I will fill you in on who called me while I was eating dinner this evening.
03.16.08
W-W-What?! (Wedding Weekend: Part Two)
The little church where Halley and Edward’s wedding was held was absolutely beautiful. Simple, elegant, and reeking of class and cash. I stood and stared in awe. Seeing the inside of the church for the first time was a shock, making me feel bad for not making time to perform my wedding party duties. Karma has officially made me its trash can. I got my bouquet after Jesse and Bella sighed with relief when Jesse hooked her arm in Bill’s and stood by the door, ready and waiting.
Bella came over to me. “Your man is looking for you. I looked through the crack in the door, and he looks like a little lost puppy dog in a sexy suit. What did you do to get that man like that?”
I grinned. “If I told you, you’d have to go to church. Do you know the best man?”
“Honey, we’re in a church. And, only briefly, why? He’s handsome, too, but in an intelligent and sexy professor way.”
I blushed a little, telling her about the huge crush I had on him in high school. Plus, he seemed to show interest in me for a time and then just flirted but never followed through, which pissed me off. I still don’t know why he acted that way.
We stopped talking soon after that because the music had begun and Halley was glaring at us as if to say, “If you ruin this, I’ll bust your kneecaps!”
Alas, we didn’t ruin it and the ceremony was perfect. I almost started crying, but I saw Scott out of the corner of my eye giving me the “Find a closet” look. He does the most romantic things sometimes.
After a million more pictures by the altar, my stomach was telling me, “I hate you!” and so was everybody else’s. A limo took us all to the reception in some gorgeous banquet hall. That’s where Scott caught up with me. He lifted me off my feet and into a breathtaking kiss. “You look gorgeous, Picante. Plus, you were one of the tallest ones up there.”
I laughed and dragged him to the side of the room where the enormous buffet was set up.
Later, after I had thoroughly pigged out on fruit, chicken salad, and cut vegetables (there were tons of different kinds of foods but I’m not adventerous when it comes to things that I haven’t seen prepared before)I joined Halley and Bella at the head table. “Thank you both so much!” cried Halley, who was at risk for killing her liver and messing up her makeup.
I took the glass from her hand and motioned to Edward to not let her drink anymore. “No thanks required. You’re not going to remember much anyway. Who let her get so drunk?” I added to Bella, who was sipping her punch and nibbling on crackers and dip. She shrugged and then pointed to Jesse who was dancing with Ray across the room.
Just then I lost what thought had been in my head when Bill caught my eye from the end of the table and jerked his head to one side to get me to come sit with him. I tried to send Bella or Halley, or anybody for that matter, a mental distress call, but my telepathy seems to be broken these days.
“I’m glad I get a chance to talk to you,” he said as I sat down. “You know, when I saw you standing there today, I got this flood of old memories that won’t go away.” He leaned closer. “Besides, you remember how crowds make me feel.”
My jaw dropped as he laid his hand on my leg; his body heat seared through the fabric of my dress and hose. I felt that if I had lifted the hem of my dress to look at my leg, I would have seen a perfect red handprint, as if he had been burned into my skin. I moved my leg away, shaken and aroused for reasons I don’t know. “I’m with somebody, Bill. If you had really ever felt anything, you should’ve done something a LONG TIME AGO.”
I got up and stormed off to the ladies room to compose myself. Scott knocked on the door after a few minutes to see if I was all right. I let him in and just leaned against his strong, broad chest. When he asked again, I just said that I had eaten something that didn’t agree and wanted to go home. I was, and still am, confused and frustrated, and all those other feelings that I thought I had left back in high school and college. We sat and waited for the cutting of the cake and watched the bouquet and the garter toss, neither of us participating because Scott and I don’t think of ourselves as single anymore.
When I first told him that Halley was getting married, he took my hand and refused to try to catch the garter because we’re taking our time and don’t need some old tradition to tell us if, or when, we’re getting married. “We’re committed to each other, and that’s all that matters to me, babe,” he told me. He’s so sweet that he should come with a warning label for diabetics.
We spent the weekend walking around town together or relaxing on the couch, watching the world run circles around us while we enjoyed the little downtime we had. I didn’t tell him about Bill, and don’t plan to at the moment, because I don’t feel like having to bail out my boyfriend after he beats the shit out of my high school crush for touching on his girlfriend. It’s not that high on my To Do list right now.
Next up: Why I spent the week in Savannah with my family… at the hospital.
03.14.08
It’s A Small World After All (Wedding Weekend: Part 1)
So many things have happened in the past week that it is going to take two posts to get it all out. I’ve been at the hospital with my family, but that’s another post for later.
I woke up at the crack of dawn on Friday morning to Halley practically beating a hole in Scott’s door. I stumbled around, cussing at Scott for keeping me up and mad at nobody in particular because I couldn’t find my robe. Instead, I pulled on one of Scott’s t-shirts and somehow found the door. “Bitch, it better be damn important,” I muttered under my breath as I swung the door open and walked away.
“Lina, turn around so I don’t have to talk to your bare ass.” I found my robe in the bathroom of all places (who would’ve guessed? lol) and sat down at the kitchen table with her. She made coffee, rubbed her hands together, and began to outline the things we had to do before the wedding.
I, of course, held up one beautifully French manicured finger, it could have been the one you’re thinking about, and told her to slow her roll. “This is the reason the Maid of Honor is usually a family member,” I growled, “because a friend wouldn’t be able to put up with the bride’s shit like a flesh and blood relative can. Go bang on Jesse’s door or go back to sleep. Hell, sleep on the couch. Anything so I can get those precious few hours of bitch-prevention sleep with my naked boyfriend.”
Her eyebrows shot up and her eyes got that scary glint to them. I smacked her arm. No way was she going to see my best kept secret naked. He looks good in clothes, but out of them? Whew!!! HoT!!!
After a few more withering glares, she left with a loud reminder that I’d better not be late for pictures. I crawled back into my warm spot and went back to sleep.
I was awakened by the smell of coffee, eggs, and sausage, so I brushed my hair, put on my glasses, and slid into the kitchen like I was Tom Cruise in Risky Business. Can you tell the difference a few more hours sleep makes?
Anyway, after breakfast, it was time to start the glam routine. Shower, mousterizer, bronzing lotion, and then I sat on the couch for a few hours with Scott to watch the shows we’ve DVRed all week. He got in the shower while I went to my apartment to put on my underoos and hose. I think that the other people on my floor have gotten used to me walking the halls in my different stages of readiness. We ate a light lunch of pasta salad before I went to fix my hair and put on my makeup. I had just slipped the straps of my dress over my shoulders when Scott walked in, dressed to the nines and looking like a perfect 10. I threatened to take away his PDA and hide it for a week if he wore the red stud in his ear, so it didn’t make an appearance. He wore a sexy, tailored black suit that made him look like he belonged in the social section of the New York Times or something. A red, black, and silver tie completed the ensemble of Mr. GQ.
I threw my arms around his neck. “I’m gonna have to keep my eye on you. All the single girls are gonna go gold digging at this place. They might mistake you for some millionaire.”
He twirled me around, making the fabric of my dress swish and rustle. “I’m a millionaire in life, but I don’t have the funds to back up the charisma and the prescence.”
I shoved him, calling him a retard as I went in search of my shoes and jewelry. I had been wearing my new shoes, that I had taken reserves out of my savings to splurge on, in the store with my jeans rolled up to prevent tripping, so there was no pain in my broken-in lovelies 
(This splurging trip isn’t the same as my profile pic. Hey! What can I say I have a weak will when it comes to HOT shoes, good books, and big purses.)
Let me just tell you, I filled out this dress WAY better than this skinny girl did. I have hips, shoulders, and muscles. Plus, Halley didn’t compensate for my height, so the dress was shorter than it was intended to be. However, it made it look better with my shoes, turning somebody else’s mistake into my advantage. I love these shoes! I’m going to start wearing them more often (and it’s not just to get my money’s woth out of them.
As I was sliding my license into the bust of my dress, Scott grabbed it and shoved it into his pocket. “You are not digging in your bra in front of everybody.”
I mocked him and sighed dramatically. “Well, you better make me change my bra then because this thing is making me itch.” And bounced away in my sexy lady shoes.
We took pictures forever, and as we were lining up for the procession into the church, a stranger came up to me, grinning ear to ear. “Caroline! Wow, you look s-great!”
I tilted my head to one side. “Are you in the wedding party?”
An elbow jabbed into my side. It was Edward, looking nervous and pale in a tuxedo, but he was smiling and restraining laughter. “Lina, this is my best man, William Oliver.”
I looked around for the hidden cameras. There were none. “Bill? From high school?”
“It’s a small world after all.”
I mentally swooned but caught myself. No swooning for old high school crushes. “It sure damn is! Guess I missed a lot when I didn’t come to the rehearsal.”
“And the dinner, and the engagement party. Come to think of it, you’re a pretty lousy bridesmaid,” retorted Halley as she walked by. Or rather, she strutted like the belle of the ball.
Next time, Lina will find out how Bill REALLY felt for her in high school and what happened at the wedding party’s table. Tune in to find out!
01.27.08
Three Strikes Too Many
I kicked Jake out of my apartment yesterday. Go proactive me! He wasn’t paying rent, more of a squatter that one, and he has turned my apartment into a land of many smells. *gag*
As I was throwing his shit into the hallway, I was ranting and raving. “You weren’t this much of a slob when we were dating,” and “What the hell is wrong with you,” were some of the nicer, cleaner phrases I used. He can be sexy and tempting all he wants, but as I said in the previous post, people think I’m OCD, so my urge for a clean abode overrides any steamy daydreams.
I’m pretty sure I weirded Scott out when he came home late from work. He went to his apartment to drop off his bag and came over to see where I was, since I’m usually laying on his enormous leather couch when he gets off work. Anyways, he opened my door to see me scrubbing the kitchen floor in a pair of cut up sweat pants, a tank top, and my hair was pulled back with a million bobby pins (my hair has so many layers to it that even my hair brush gets confused)
“Okay…” he began with a grin on his face as he pulled off his tie. He wears the best looking ties, none of those weird ones my English professor in college wore with cars and/or women or something else on them. “If I wasn’t totally getting turned on by the short shorts and damp tank top, I would be freaked out by your insanely clean kitchen.” He sniffed. “Are you using bleach?”
“Jake isn’t living here anymore,” I responded leaning back into a crouch to wipe my forehead. “I was supposed to close the shop tonight, but I’m paying Jesse overtime to do it for me while I clean the entire apartment.”
Scott then grabbed my arm and helped me stand up. “Just chill out. Go take a shower in my apartment, put on some comfortable PJ’s and go to bed. I know you didn’t sleep any last night because I felt you get up a million times.”
He was right btw, darn him always being right. I’ve been worrying about what I was going to say to Jake because that’s the kind of person I am. My kindness always comes back to bite me in the ass, and I just grin and bear it while it happens. I didn’t want to give Jake the boot because he was once one of my closest friends, but it was time for him to get back on his feet.
Jake living in my place wasn’t all bad. On nights Scott was stuck at the office trying to meet a deadline, we caught up on old times. He even came by the store a few times to gush over what a success I’ve become. However, he’s as bad as Hauser (see Long Time No Harass) when it comes to awkward flirting, so it’s just as well that he is gone because if Scott ever knew that, the skinny boy/man would be just another stain on the pavement.
Speaking of stains, I have to suppress a shudder when I think about the state my carpets were in. Ingrained dirt, food, and other substances that I’d have to get the carpet tested to know what they were. A tire brush and some Resolve, along with tons of muscle, the carpets looked good again. Now, I remember why I haven’t had a roommate since college. Well, my head is still hurting from the cleaner fumes, so I’ll post again later.
As a last thought, I must wear those cut off sweatpants more often. 
I seem to have turned into a redneck pin-up girl in Scott’s eyes. hahahahahahaha……
12.23.07
Couple Mode and Spazzy Jazz
Scott and I are officially in couple mode, and it hasn’t even been 3 months!! I haven’t gone out with the girls since that night before we started the blog. wow…. I’ve had so much more energy now that I’m not staying out until 3 getting drunk anymore. Gasp! Am I maturing? Don’t tell anybody, ok?
I was walking Wednesday yesterday when my good friend Jake came jogging up. Jake was my boyfriend in college, and now we have a brother/sister friendship. Oh who am I kidding??!! Jake looks like Matthew McConaughey, and I was lucky enough to have an English class with him. He’s a lean, not-so-mean, hot machine. I had to mentally slap myself and picture my chunk of muscle who was baking cookies.
Anyways, I stopped, hugged Jake hard while trying not to ogle or grab him, and listened to him as he asked me questions about my life at the speed of light. He paused when I told him that I had a boyfriend, and yes, things were kind of serious. We were sharing a slightly awkward silence when he suddenly asks if he can move into my apartment!!!
I think I stopped breathing for a second as he explained that the publishing company he wrote and was editor for went through the motions of a cut back and fired him. Now, he’s losing his apartment and needed a place to stay. “I was going to call my college roommate, but since I bumped into you. Please take pity on one of your best friends!!!!”
Sighing, I nodded slowly, knowing my over-developed sense of charity and niceness would come to snap me in the ass one day.
He moved his stuff into my home office today, making it into a cramped bedroom. I came home late from the store, ready to change into some ratty jammies and lay on the couch with Scott. Did that happen? No. We had just put in Stardust, and snuggled in to not watch the movie when this loud, annoying, and just plain weird music came blasting out of Jake’s new bedroom.
“What the hell was that?” Scott shouted as he sprang off of the couch. I sat in awe. How could a man that tall and such move so quickly and… well… nimbly?
“That’s my new roommate, Jake.” At his enraged look, I quickly explained the whole shibang to him. He banged on Jake’s door. When it opened, Scott stuck out one large, callused hand. “Hi, I’m the boyfriend. What are you listening to? It sounds like an epilectic playing multiple instruments during a seizure”
I smacked my forehead and ran over to them before they began growling at each other.
“It’s new-age, alternative jazz. Some friends of mine started a jazz band; they play in New York. They sent me a copy of their demo.”
I looked back and forth between Scott and Jake. Damn! My tastes have changed!! Jake is lean, wiry and handsome, but looks very scholarly at times. Scott is tall, ginormous, hot, and looks like an ad for Wrangler Jeans or Ford Trucks. There is a major difference between them that has nothing to do with physical appearance. I had to chase Jake. Scott was there like a brick wall I ran into. (there is a compliment towards scott in there somewhere
I used the remote in Jake’s hand to shut off his stereo. “No new-age in my apartment, bub.”
He nodded, a mischievious glint coming into his eyes. “No bringing home dates then.”
I looked at Scott, grinned, and nodded. “Fine.”
Slipping into my houseshoes, I grabbed Scott’s hand, the Stardust DVD, and the container of Christmas cookies. “See you tomorrow, roomie.” And I was down the hall to Scott’s apartment. Aren’t I just the meanest ex- girlfriend on Earth. Muahahahaha
I have to go to Alabama with Scott tomorrow. He’s dragging me out of bed at 5 in the morning to spend Christmas Eve with his family. Somebody! Shoot! Me! Now!
