Wipeout

Oh holy shitballs! Wipeout!
Last night was one of those weird I-don't-know-how-I-didn't-see-this-one-coming kind of nights.  I started the afternoon with a couple of beers at lunch... and next thing I know I'm looking up at the night sky from the pavement. 
If you know me at all, you know that at any given moment something is troubling me.  Last night, there were at least three things troubling me, all of them male.  Not that it is an excuse for bad biking, but my brain likes to trick me into ordering another drink when I get overwhelmed.  And seeing the guy I'm trying to get over walk in as soon as I'm about to leave the club, well that's overwhelming.
I want to be friends with this person, but unfortunately I also shared a toothbrush with him not that long ago.  Incredibly enough, the mopey female side of me only kicks in when I want someone I can't have... The rest of the time, you know I'm a total dude. 
So I tried to play it cool, but as I'm was biking away, I just had to take a hand off the bike and wave goodbye to Eugene. Mind you, I turned my body fully around to do this wave, and as I was yelling his name, I felt a tilt like no other. I'd only heard about these kinds of crashes, but the feeling is really something to be savored.  A wiggle, a wobble, a wave of confusion, and a sudden patter of footfall.  As I'm being lifted up, I find myself fully hysterical with laughter.  It was one of the more ridiculous displays of drunken behavior I've ever executed, and I can only imagine how 3-stooges I must have looked.  As Eugene put it, I "definitely lost a few cool points." 
I'm lucky because Taylor is a medic and he was right there to remind me that I had, unfortunately, survived the crash.  Just a couple of scrapes and bruises.
The real damage is to my ego because I'm pretty sure that guy I can't get over was driving away as it happened, and well, I have a pretty strong feeling that was the icing on that cake. 

I'm determined not to have another crush until I'm out of high school.

Well... it's my birthday.  And I'm really into that. 
Here's what I'm not into: people saying they will do something and not doing it. 
I don't care what the hell it is, but I get especially frustrated when I'm lied to.
Listen people, I'm a 12 year old with a learning disability OK? If you tell me you'll give me a cookie, I'm going to be waiting all day for the goddamn cookie.  And like a poor kid with OCD, I'm going to be so focused on you and your stupid cookie that I forget all about how much fun I was having before you came around with your false claims.  And the thing I don't get is... if you can't/won't/don't want to give me a cookie, why did you offer in the first place?  When I was little, my dad would say, "want to go get some ice cream?" Me: "ahduh yesssss" Dad: "that's nice, I was just wondering."  Thanks a lot, Dad.  That game wasn't fun when I was 6 and it still sucks at 28.
I believe I so badly tarnished my dating karma when I went out with Bryan, that now everything is one big cosmic joke.  I have been asked FOUR times since Jan. 1, 2010 to be in a threesome with four different established couples.  REALLY YOU ASK?  Fucking really.  I guess it's a compliment, but it has a way of ruining the moment, if you get my drift.  The point is... I have feelings too people!!  When did I become the girl you bring home to your girlfriend/boyfriend for an anniversary present?  Maybe I could get propositioned by someone single?  Does that seem fair? 
Instead, when I call someone I really like to confirm plans, I not only don't see the guy, but I sit out front of a club gushing tears and being comforted by a homeless dude!  (part of this gushing was due to the sake bombs, part of it due to my own lameness, part of it because that was a really nice homeless dude). 

So... apologies to my roommate for being a lame-o on her birthday, which is also st. patrick's day, which is also the eve of my birthday.  I wanted to grow a sac and enjoy the band, but when I realized that I once dated the bartender (john) who was working last night, I felt that I positively do not have the luck of the irish.  So, I ran away from my friends and cried in the privacy of a doorstep on Polk street.  But not being really hidden, a lot of spectators were mystified by my sadness and tried to help.  One guy even circled the block 3 or 4 times in his creepy white van asking me repeatedly if I needed a ride!  I was tempted but thought... WHY?  even creepo will find a way to get inside of my head and then spring it on me that he's only interested in having me over to please his bi-curious lady. 

All I wanted was to wake up next to someone special on my birthday. 

But so much for that romantic bullshit... let's go find your girlfriend!!