architecture binge

ok, ok, i know that i promised myself that i'd stop slandering lame-o on the blog, but i really need to talk about this... more than i already have.

actually, it's really not about slander (or libel- i can't ever remember which is which). it's about me. i continue to believe that confessing bad thoughts or deeds gets you half way to absolution.

the result of the unfiltered blurting out of "hey, you don't get to ask me out and then take it back!" was the making of actual plans to meet lame-o face to face. mind you, they're casualcupofcoffeebutdefinitelynotadate plans, but progress has been made- we've even talked on the phone now. but get this: i have NO CLUE who this guy is. it seems that the person with whom i remember shamelessly flirting all those years ago was someone TOTALLY DIFFERENT. and you know that it wasn't on discovery of this most interesting plot twist that i decided to suppress my filterlessness. no, no. maniacal laughter of "ha! i have no idea who you are!"

what worries me about this whole fiasco is that it sounds like i was throwing myself at not one but two people, and my ability to recall the whole thing has been clouded by 1) the effects of excessive alcohol intake, and 2) the fact the memory filter that allows me suppress unsavory events is working just fine. is it possible that i've really managed to merge these two guys into one collective groomsman?

in any case, the upcoming non-date was as good an excuse as any to find myself having a meltdown about mascara in the makeup isle at target with my blogmate (who was totally useless to me in the picking one of the zillion kinds of mascara that there are). how am i supposed to know if i want lengthening, waterproof, fattening, volumizing, curved brush, straight brush, black, jet black, near black, panoramic (panoramic?)? talk about too many adjectives- i just want not to have clumpy eyelashes (or to wear anything on my face that has to be removed with abrasive chemicals)! fortunately, while our non-drinking friend doesn't know anything about booze, she knows plenty about makeup and hair clips and stuff- so we were able to put in a frantic cell phone call and have her bail us out of our mascara debacle.

with non-clumpy eyelashes and my best lookhotwithouttryingdon'tyouwishthiswereadate outfit, i'm ready for my close-up mr. deville.