This morning, JMo asked:So are you gonna go for this Jared guy, and stake your claim on the hottest guy in New Orleans?
And the answer is: I will continue to pursue Jared for as long as it is complicated.
See, I have this sickness. I'm strangely drawn to guys who are completely unattainable, and Jared, between his being so incredibly attractive and still not calling me after all this time, fits that profile perfectly. Once he's attainable, I will probably lose interest, just like I have time and time again with all of the other guys who actually call when they say they are going to.
I've said that I have trouble getting guys to stick around once I've initially gotten their attention. This is something of a lie, because plenty of guys have attempted to stick around, and I have promptly run away from them. I just don't understand boys like that, for some reason. Where's the fun?
Why do you think I've been enamored with Aaron for over two and a half years now? Because he makes it difficult for me to maintain anything for a significant period of time, and that just makes me want it even more. I'd like to think that if Aaron ever does come to his senses and realize how compatible we are, I would be perfectly content with the fact that I'd finally have everything I've been wanting for so long. But the truth is, I would probably end up freaking out and running away. It's just in my nature, I suppose.
We're in the 9th inning of the College World Series elimination game, and LSU is losing to South Carolina 14-4. I am oh so disappointed with this fact right now.
There are all kinds of stories to tell, but I have things to do at the moment, which I amputting off until the end of this tragic baseball game, so I'm going to make this short for now.
Saturday night at my regular ladies' night bar, Jared pulled me aside saying "we need to talk," which I think is a bit dramatic for a guy I just recently met, who subsequently blew me off. But I let him pull me into a corner and he starts going on and on about how he hopes I'm not angry at him for not calling but that he feels guilty about hitting on me when I'm constantly around a group of 6 or 7 guys. Now I thought that being friends with mostly guys was an advantage in that they would introduce me to friends of theirs such as Jared, but apparently he has made the assumption that all of my friends have some sort of claim to me. What?
But it gets even more bizarre when he tells me, "In all honesty, you make me really nervous." What?? I have a good bit of self-confidence, but I'm no Jennifer Aniston. And okay, I might expect another guy to be apprehensive about coming on to me, but I think I've made it pretty clear that Jared is gorgeous and could probably get any girl in New Orleans. So I told him that I don't buy that story; he insists that I am, in fact, intimidating. Whatever. We ended up having a decent conversation for a few minutes about LSU and roommates and generic topics such as those, but then Travis cut it short by announcing that Ashley's car had been broken into and they had to leave.
So I spent the rest of the night stressing out about the most recent Aaron drama that has been going on, but now is not the time for that.
And Carolina just scored again. If this isn't depressing, I don't know what is.
Most of my regular crowd stayed in Baton Rouge for the summer, with the exceptions of Courtney and Aaron, so I've been finding myself spending more and more time these days with a group of people that lived on the first floor of my dorm last year. Most of them are friends of NickH; they're the same people who brought me to Grand Isle to cool off from finals week.
So anyway, every Tuesday night we go out to TJs for 25-cent night. I won't be going along tonight because I am practically broke, but that is an entirely different story altogether. Last Tuesday, though, Travis invited his friend Jared to meet us there. I'd met him a few times before, and I am not exaggerating at all when I tell you that he belongs on a magazine cover next to Colin Farrell. So Travis and Brandon has been encouraging me to try and make something happen between Jared and myself, and I certainly wasn't going to argue with that.
At first everyone was pretty impressed with the way I was handling things. After I'd had a few beers I was making all kinds of conceited remarks to Travis about how quickly I could get Jared to ask for my number, because to be completely honest I sort of pride myself on my ability to get a guy's attention. Keeping them around for something long-term is an entirely different story (read: Aaron), but I have a sparkling track record when it comes to picking up on guys I've just met. I am a sick, sick girl for being so into this fact, I know.
But anyway, have you ever seen the episode of Sex and the City where Carrie gets mugged? A guy steals her purse and her Manolo Blahniks ("Somebody stop him, he stole my strappy sandals!"), and the cop that shows up to help her out turns out to be all kinds of gorgeous, and subsequently asks Miranda out. I am going somewhere with this, I promise. So they go to dinner and she's having a good time until she realizes that every girl in the restaurant is gawking at her beautiful date, and she starts ordering martinis in an attempt to boost her self-esteem. But the more she thinks about how out of her league he is, them ore she drinks, and pretty soon he's sneaking out in the middle of the night and leaving the number for Alcoholics Anonymous on her bedside table.
I totally did that Tuesday night. Allow me to elaborate.
After the drink special ended at TJs, we wanted to keep drinking, but who really wants to transition from paying a quarter for a Bud Light to paying $2.50? Not us. So we hear that there's another special going on at another bar a few blocks away, and we decide to head in that direction. Jared has recognized some girls that he knew, and they were adorable as all hell, so he says taht he'll meet us there in a few minutes. I guess it was at that point that it hit me that I was picking up on the most gorgeous male I have ever seen in person.
We get to Tucks a few minutes later, and it turns out that the drink special there is $6 pitchers of mixed drinks, which amazes us because at this particular bar it's usually upwards of six dollars to buy even one drink. I'm already kind of tipsy after spending about five dollars worth of quarters on beer, so I decide that it would be a fantastic idea to get a pitcher of rum and coke and a straw. Seriously. Alcoholic? Yeah, that's me. By the time Jared showed up, I was completely falling-over drunk.
This apparently was not good for my flirting skills, because Travis has told me that I made a complete fool of myself. Case and point: I was smoking a cigarette with Ashley and Mary, and Jared came over and told me that it was a really disgusting habit, and I pretty much promised him that I would quit just for him. Shit.
As a random side note here: I no longer smoke during the day, and this is really a huge accomplishment for me. During that terrible finals week, I was constantly walking out to the patio to smoke, and now I only smoke as a supplement to alcohol. I figure that's enough quitting for now. Everyone in New Orleans smokes anyway, so I'm inhaling the shit just by walking into a bar. I might as well indulge myself when I go out at night. Honest, that's only about 6 cigarettes a week. So it actually kind of upset me that Jared had to catch me smoking and make the assumption that I'm all kinds of addicted when I'm really not anymore.
I would like to point out that he still asked for my phone number, so I technically proved my point to Travis that I always succeed in that area, even though he didn't call. Ouch. Guys always call me the next day. Always.
Meanwhile, Brittany is begging me to score her some points with Brandon, who she is somehow enamored with all of a sudden. So I'm actually bouncing back and forth between hanging all over Jared in an all-too-obivous drunken stupor and pulling Brandon aside to ramble on about all of Brit's positive qualities. Brandon cracks me up like no one else, and I adore hanging out with him, so it's probably a good thing that he witnessed the majority of my ridiculous drunk behavior that night. Lord only knows how the night would have turned out had I focused all of my attention on Jared.
Saturday night, though, we went back to Tucks for Ladies Night, and I ran into Jared again. I pretty much acted like he didn't exists, mostly because I was all kinds of humiliated, but by the end of the night he was trying to get my attention every few minutes. My favorite part about it was that Travis, who flat out told me to give up all hope after my horrific Tuesday night performance, got to see just how wrong he was.
Then again, he still hasn't called me, damn it.
Speaking of phone calls, though, Aaron has taken it upon himself to call me every night that he goes somewhere to ask me over and over why I'm not there too. "Why aren't you at TJs, Why aren't you at this party in Algiers, Why are you still out when I already went home???" I don't know what I'm going to do about him... I'm trying to pretend I don't care. We all know that I do, but I figure if I lie to myself for long enough, maybe it will eventually be true.
When I'm starting a conversation with a friend of mine, I rarely say hello. I just start talking and hope they have caller ID. I don't usually say goodbye either, which apparently bothers some people. Especially Elise, but just about everything bothers her these days, so we won't even go there.
I've been rearranging all of the things in my room lately to accomodate everything I had to unpack after I moved out of the dorm, and I came across my old CDs from 10th and 11th grade, during the obligatory teenage girl boy band phase, so all day I've been listening to songs like Quit Playing Games With My Heart and Tearing Up My Heart. It's sickening, really. What's even more sickening is that I still remember all of the words. It's a good thing I'm home alone.
The bad thing about being home all day with nothing to do and no money to spend is that I start making wishlists on shopping web sites. If I actually buy everything I claim I'm going to, I'll be able to wear 3 different outfits every day with no overlap. But I won't have time to show them off, because I will have bought so many books that it will take me the rest of my life to read them all.
But I don't have the money for countless outfits just yet, so it's 2:30 and I'm already stressing out about what to wear to TJ's tonight. If I have to wear my white miniskirt one more time I think I'm going to throw it away. Not really, I love that skirt, but there are only so many times I can wear the same 4 skirts in my closet that I can still tolerate. It's looking like I'm going to be raiding Diana's closet tonight.
A few nights ago, I switched the comments over to Blogger's new system, but I'm about to switch back to e-netation, even though it took me hours to get the new ones working. Hmph.
There isn't a whole lot for me to talk about these days. I doubt anyone wants to read about the minute details of my nights at TJs, Tucks, 360, and Twiropa, and the sad thing is that's about all I've been doing these days: bar-hopping.
Oh my goodness, before I forget... every girl reading this must immediately go out and buy Jessica Simpson's edible perfume. It is incredible. Courtney brought it ot the last party in Baton Rouge, and she and Amanda and I spent the whole night spraying it on ourselves and then sucking on our own wrists. This was after we'd had a few monsoons, of course. But seriously.
Speaking of Amanda, she is SeanM's adorable new girlfriend, and that is them in the picture.
I don't know whether or not I've mentioned this before, but I recently signed a lease to live in an apartment a few minutes away from the LSU campus. I'm living with Elise again and two other girls, and countless other friends of mine live in this apartment complex and the one next door. I'm more excited than you can possibly imagine, and also a little worried about just how much studying I'm going to get done next semester. I move in August 18th, and it cannot come soon enough.
Speaking of moving away not coming soon enough...
My mother has been driving me crazy lately. Now, you would think that I'm referring to the usual mom stuff - "clean your room, be home before 3, don't drink so much..." But no, not my mother. My mom goes out more often than me. Most often, she goes to The Dock, and whenever she meets a guy that she finds halfway-interesting, she brings him home.
My 48-year-old mother is having way more sex than me. With guys who are in their 20s.
Well, most of them are in their early 30s, I think, but she has told me that Joey is 25 and Troy is 28. This kind of disturbs me. What disturbs me even more is the fact that she goes places that friends of mine have been known to frequent. I am just waiting for the day that she brings home Brad or CJ or someone.
But it doesn't end there - in the past few years, I've learned to live with the fact that my mom is, uh... open with her sexuality. It didn't start to bother me until one night last week.
My mom was in Metairie watching some band play at some daiquiri shop, and I was home by myself, taking a break from bars for the night. Around 1 am, I started to hear noises coming from the stairs down the hall from my room. I told myself that it was the cat, but because I am paranoid, I locked my bedroom door. I heard vague creaking noises a few more times, but my house is kind of old and tends to make noises from time to time. So I go about my business downloading mp3s and gossipping with Courtney when I start to hear the noises again, and this time they are much clearer: there is definitely a person walking up the stairs.
So at this point I am freaking out, because I distinctly remember locking the front door and my mom's car is not outside. I am convinced I am about to get raped or murdered, or at least my laptop is about to get stolen. So I grab my cigarettes and open my window as quietly as possible, perch myself on the windowsill and start smokng like crazy in an attempt to calm my nerves. I am seriously considering climbing out of the house. I grab my cell phone and decide to call the police when I hear my front door open. I am terrified at this point, because my window looks out over the front yard, and whoever is about to walk out is sure to see me. I am convinced that I am about to die.
I see a guy whom I don't recognize, walk out of my house and toward a van parked a little ways down the street from my house, and sure enough, he looks up and sees me. I say something stupid like "who the hell are you?" and he looks up and says "I'm Troy... I got bored, so I came and used the spare key so that I could come in and look for Kathy."
Honestly, it's one thing for my mom to have an active sex life. It's quite another for it to scare me half to death in the middle of the night.
nicole: 19-year-old LSU sophomore. biochemistry, pre-med. native new orleanian. starbucks barista. borderline alcoholic. addicted to facebook, red bull and vodka, and college football. a little neurotic, extremely indecisive, and often irresponsible.
There isn't a whole lot for me to talk about these days. I doubt anyone wants to read about the minute details of my nights at TJs, Tucks, 360, and Twiropa, and the sad thing is that's about all I've been doing these days: bar-hopping.
