Case of the Mondays

3 Mar

1. The weather man is calling for another five to eight inches of snow. I am not excited about it. Mother Nature has been flirting with us lately: 50 degrees on Saturday and close to 80 degrees yesterday and then this morning? Rain and 36 degrees. Not cool, Mother Nature, not cool. Would it help if we started wooing you to give us nice weather? A box of chocolates? Or perhaps lots of fertilizer for your lawn. Tell us what you need and we’ll get to work on it. I think I speak for all of StL when I say we are tired of this weather.

2. Friday night I went back to McGurks, which is one of my favorite bars, after a hiatus which was induced by the NJ fiasco. Two of the bartenders recognized me as “NJ’s girl,” and asked if were still dating. I couldn’t help but laugh and explain that he needed to get a few things together so no, we were no longer seeing each other. They informed he’s no longer working there: you don’t get fired from McGurks, but you don’t get scheduled anymore either. They also suggested it was odd that a man with a drinking problem would be a bartender. I agreed. Free drinks resulted all night long, and that was that. Glad to know I can go there and not feel awkward, though.

3. You know how in Sex & the City (and I’m sure other shows and books) the main character warns you to NEVER stop thinking about an ex, not even for a second? Well, I agree. I think that should apply to anyone you have dated, most especially those who disappeared without so much as a break-up post-it, text or other mode of ending things. On Thursday I saw a guy named Bruno (yes, that’s right) during my lunch hour. Of all the lunch places for him to walk into in all of StL, he walked into my mine. With a blond bombshell. Me: hair up, good make-up, but fairly blah clothes (black pants, sweater, heels). There was no confrontation or discussion, but I just thought it odd that after two years I would see him. And then, Friday night, at McGurks, WOJO was there. The other one who disappeared. Luckily for me I was with a new guy (a very handsome, buff, 32 year- old) and looking hot (according to the 32 year- old) so that if he had seen me it wouldn’t have mattered. (More on the 32 year-old after I get more of a sense of what is going on there, if anything.)

4. Everything mentioned in #3 had me thinking: why do girls care? Why does it matter what we are wearing or who we are with when we see someone who hurt us, who we know isn’t worth another moment of our time? Clearly revenge is not healthy so this notion of wanting to look great and be with great people can’t be right… can it? Or is it more that we want to show them that hey, life goes on, I’m here, I’m strong and movin’ on? I am not sure.

5. Male strippers = not attractive. Not even in the least bit. I attended a bachelorette party on Saturday night for a good friend who is getting married in less than two weeks and her bridesmaids got a fireman stripper. While it was quite entertaining and lots of laughs resulted, there is definitely no way I could have been there without the two Brazilian Daquiris and two glasses of Vodka & Cranberry I had. NO. WAY.


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