Charming, but single

A journal in dates and drinks


A totally lame Saturday night

So, after working a few hours at the store where I used to work (they needed help and I didn't want to pass up easy, on-the-spot, off-the-books money), I phoned a friend to see what her evening plans were. It was a bit after 7 p.m. and I was dusty and dirty feeling from the store. She was planning to go get a drink and then maybe head to a party (that, annoyingly, I hadn't been informed of until just then), so I told her I'd call her after dinner and a shower. So I dined and washed up and she told me she'd call me back with firm plans about the night. This was 9 p.m., so I figured I had plenty of time to get ready. I played with my hair, straightening the front and velcro-rolling the back for volume. I fiddled with my clothes, putting together a cutish casual outfit that gave me an excuse to wear this adorable lavender tank under a denim blazer. I took my time with my make-up, plucked my eyebrows, played with different accessories and shoes. (I never allow myself enough time to get ready, so the fact that I had time to play with make-up and shoes was a big deal.) I packed my going-out clutch, and as I walked out of my room I noticed the time -- 10:30 p.m. Ten-thirty! I took an hour and a half to get ready! So, I freaked out ... I figured my friends, who normally depart for social events around 10 p.m. had tried to call me and let me know where I was (late) to meet them. I checked my cell -- no calls. I checked my voicemail -- no messages. No texts. Nothing. Confused, I called my friend, who was asleep. At 10:40 p.m. She apologized for not calling me, said she had decided to stay in and gave me some vague directions to the party. I tried to guilt her into going with me, but she was having none of it. I got off of the phone and made a round of phone calls with no avail. B's roommate has a new girlfriend, so they were leaving a restaurant to go home and have sex. And B, I was told, was having a boy's night once he got off of work. My closest girlfriend had gone home for the weekend, another girlfriend of mine is taking about two semesters worth of school in one to try to graduate, so she was hitting the books. All of my other girlfriends have moved out of town or gotten married. The guys who would have more specific information about the party have been giving me the cold shoulder for any number of reasons, so I couldn't call them. There I was, dressed to kill, with meticulously applied make-up, shaped brows, a well-styled outfit, bouncy, voluminous hair and no plans of which to speak. All that prep for no payoff. I was pissed, but I managed to put my cell phone down and avoid calling either of the boys who are currently ignoring me (either consciously or not). I ended up watching Saturday Night Live while eating cheesecake and moisturizing my face. Next week, I'm making plans in advance.



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Charming, but single is 25 26 27(!), lives in the Southern part of the U.S.A. and likes both her drinks and her boys tall. E-mail (listed below) her and she may respond. You can also IM her in AIM/AOL. (If she ever remembers to sign on.)
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Former taglines of this blog: "A Journal in Dates and Drinks" and "A Dateless Journal of Drinking."




Those Particulars
Some Backstory
Memories of the Way We Were
Updates and Towel Snapping
One Year Wrap-Up
Just As She Is
An Open Letter to Myself
After 26 years, she HAS learned something
An Open Letter to the Men Who Message Me Through Match
Sharing a smoke



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