Okay, so I don’t normally speak about serious personal stuff on here, and I don’t usually kiss and tell, but by God, I had to get it out somewhere.  It would not do.

I thought I had been doing an excellent job at getting over the last guy.  Really.  But this weekend, while kissing a guy who I’ve been friends with all through high school and college (but until then had never been involved with), I couldn’t help but realize the fact that one name kept running over and over again through my head, practically screaming at me, and it was not the name of the guy I was kissing.  Once I realized that if things continued, that name would most definitely slip out, I decided to end things for the night.  Because even if I ignored my feelings and continued, and even though they have the same vowel in their names, I’m pretty sure he would have noticed.

I’m actually really mad about this.  I was doing fine!  Why on earth did he have to sneak in there?  That’s not his territory any longer.

Anyway, in less distressing news, I went out this weekend Friday and Saturday to see bands galore play.  Friday night started out at Donnie’s in Pendleton, where I saw a few friends play.  They were fantastic, even though they hadn’t all played together before.  Really great.  I also got to see my friend Kristie, whom I haven’t seen in years.  We vowed to hang out before she moves half-way across the country.  It was also there that I heard the most distasteful pick-up line EVER:

Guy: Did you know that there are over 10,000 battered women in Indiana?
Me:  I can believe that.
Guy: And to think this whole time, I’ve been eating them plain…
Me:  *nervous laughter*
Guy:  That was inappropriate, wasn’t it?
Me: Yeah.

After a while, the place became way too crowded and smoky, so I headed on to another place to see an ex and old friend play at some little dive bar.  There were probably 10 people, tops, in the bar, and I’m sorry to say, but the guys played really poorly.  Not like him at all.  Luckily though, there were some women I knew from a local AmVets, so we had a good time dancing anyway.  There was a creepy guy there named John who stuck his nose in my hair and, taking a big whiff, proclaimed, "You smell pretty."  Ugh.  I shuddered and shrank away.  After that, one of the ladies said she was my mom, so he didn’t mess with me anymore.

Saturday night was more of the same, seeing a different band at Shout’s, this time being the one my ex used to play in.  They are actually good.  I really missed seeing everybody, and they were all happy to see me.  Also, I got to see my friend Roxie, whom I hadn’t seen since November.  That’s also where I met up with the friend mentioned in the beginning of this entry.  And you pretty much know where it goes from there…

I really think I need to move to Tahiti, or some country where I don’t speak the language AT ALL…  That would do me a world of good.