You're The Only Guy Going. Hope That's OK.

One of the really tricky parts of starting a new relationship is knowing whether you are far enough into the relationship where it is acceptable to make future plans beyond the next date. Tricky part two of that is how far in the future you can make those plans without the other person freaking out. About two weeks after I started seeing cowboy, concert tickets went on sale for Toby Keith. I wanted to see Toby so I bought my eight tickets with four of them for me and two sets for two of my friends. I decided one of my tickets would be for cowboy and if it hadn't worked out for us I would just invite someone else. At the point I bought the tickets, the concert was six or seven weeks away - three times as long as we had been seeing each other. Then I had to contend with an inner struggle of whether I tell him I bought concert tickets for us and for when. I finally decided that I would play it casual, "I bought concert tickets to Toby Keith and I have one for you if you want to go." Whew, he didn't freak out. All is well.

The plan all along only included a possible two guys out of the group of eight. One friend had a change of plans which meant I needed to resell her two tickets. No problem except for M's sister K. (who is 17) offered one of them to her friend (who is also 17). Then K.'s mom took the other one. The potential issue for cowboy is that not only will he for sure be the only guy going, and meeting M., but now we are taking two 17 year olds and he will meet M's sister and her sister's mom. I imagine it is intimidating enough to meet someone's kids but add to that my ex-husband's other kid and my ex-husband's first ex-wife? That's probably a little much.

I gave him the option and cowboy opted out on Toby. He was really sweet about it. He wanted to make sure I wasn't going to be mad and then says he doesn't really like Toby that much and he was just going to be with me. This is another concept very foreign to me. The actual concert was last night and the big dog daddy Toby Keith is an absolute stud. GRRR!

The fabulous efforts of all the wannabe cowgirls in the area continue to amaze me. Turns out two 17 year-olds enjoy spotting fashion disasters a mile away as much as I do so last night I had help in watching for unique efforts. As soon as we walked in, we were confronted with the walking sausage and she was in front of us every way we turned in her olive green short overalls. Nobody over 250 should be allowed to wear overalls, let alone short overalls. The next atrocity occured in the general admission area (here is where I wish I had a camera phone) just a little ways down the hill from where we were. The dark brown wannabe cowgirl hat was bad enough, but it just doesn't flow well on top of a skin tight brown halter top. The skin tight was what really did in the shirt since it allowed her huge gut to hang down over the top of her skin tight knee length jean shorts. The giant silver jewelry around her neck did nothing to distract the eye from the tacky hat, the overhanging gut, or the fact her ass was so flat it was almost caved in. In fact, her ass was the smallest part of her body I think. And nothing adds height like a continuous line for the eye to follow. She obviously missed this page in last months Glamour because she had on brown knee high boots with her jean shorts. Unfortunately, the eyes couldn't be averted since she was also on her way to becoming THAT GIRL and doing the arms above the head dance.

After the concert, M went home with her sister so I met up with cowboy at Bushwhacker's. Last night was the moo brigade. Black is a slimming color; however, if you are fat before you get dressed then you will still be fat even if you're wearing black. The fat under your clothes is still there no matter what color you're wearing so a black shirt does not make it OK to expose your gut. There was a bachelorette party in attendance last night too. The bride to be had a lighted sash presumably to indicate she was the one getting married but it more closely resembled one of those flashing "wide load" signs you see on the big trucks. I think she was the token skinny girl too because her one friend looked she had two butts, one in the back and one in the front.

A few postings ago I mentioned the "hanger on girl" who literally draped herself over every unattached guy at the bar...she was back last night in some very unattractive baggy jean shorts. As I was standing with cowboy, his arm is around me, my arm is wrapped around his waist, she walks up behind us. I don't know if she didn't see me or what but she grabs his arms and says "Hi" so I turn around, look her in the eye and say "Hi" right back with a just a little bit of attitude. Her expression was of complete shock. After a bit of a stare down and I'm just about ready to get in her face, she says to cowboy "sorry, I thought you were someone else who's wearing the same shirt" and practically ran to the other side of the bar. I really don't like to fight but I have had to make this lady back off my man twice now - well, once was before he was technically my man but still - I think I may need to adjust my message a little bit if it happens again cuz she just doesn't seem to get it.

Looks That Kill

Before I split with M's dad I thought about every aspect of life I could think of and how life would change. Like would I have enough money, would I have enough time, would I meet someone else, did I owe it to M's dad to stay because of what I've been through, and on and on and on. The one thing I missed that may seem like a trivial thing, however, was I have always had somebody around to kill spiders for me. My parents, my roommates, neighbors, and M's dad. I have to kill my own spiders now!
I've had to toughen up quite a bit with owning a house by myself. My house was built on a lot that up until last summer was somebody's garden so I have LOTS of spiders. Not just daddy long legs and little itty bitty spiders but big, fat, nasty, hairy spiders that are like the size of a small car. OK, the size of a half dollar but still...
The other night I saw one of those big, fat, nasty, hairy spiders in my bedroom up in that space where the wall meets the ceiling that is really too high for me to reach anyway. I went away and came back to see that the big, fat, nasty, hairy spider had moved to over the bed. As I sat downstairs contemplating what to do, cowboy called. I'm talking to cowboy and mention that I saw one of these big, fat, nasty, hairy spiders in my bedroom. He apparently knows me fairly well already because he said "You're thinking about sleeping downstairs aren't you?"
Um, yeah...seemed like a decent idea. He says just go kill it. You won't know unless you try. Just get it over with. But I have to wait for it to move because if I miss and it drops, it will drop onto the bed. So not cool.
But fair enough. I go back upstairs, gather the paper towels, get the step stool, and go back to my room. The big, fat, nasty, hairy spider has moved to another wall and is now on a flat surface where with the step stool I can reach and get him. So I stand there, and I stand there, and I move the laundry basket so in case the big, fat, nasty, hairy spider drops it won't drop into my clean clothes. I stand there, and I stand there and decide I should really brush my teeth and take my make up off. When I'm done the big, fat, nasty, hairy spider is still there. I stand there, and I stand there, and I stand there a little bit longer. If cowboy lived closer I would consider calling him to come kill it for me. That's not an option, so I stand there and I stand there and I stand there for just a little bit longer and then I go for it. I got it in the six layers of paper towels and just to make sure I really got it, I squished the paper towels flat against the bathroom counter with my entire body weight.
DEAD SPIDER!!!

Stupidity is not optional

Thanks to M's sister, I had a second Saturday night in a row free. Well not "free" because I made plans with cowboy, but kid free. We ventured out of the Bushwhacker's comfort zone and went to Duke's last night. I have not been back to Duke's since the fateful mechanical bull night when I met mr.redbull, but time heals all wounds and sore shoulders so off we went. Cowboy had told me how does not particularly care for Duke's, but I had only been there twice and that was where KG wanted to go Saturday night.
Even though Duke's and Bushwhacker's are both country bars, they are 180 degrees apart. No mechanical bull last night but the entertainment was beyond belief. I have discovered the reason for the world's peroxide shortage; I don't think there was a natural blonde in the entire bar and I saw at least three completely bleached Gwen Stefani style. If last night was any indication, the world is headed for a self tanner shortage also. A word of warning, small polka dots do not make you look thinner. Nor does the number of polka dot pieces help, thus skip the polka dot shoes. Mini skirts are in, mini dresses are just dangerous if you're going to do anything but just stand there. It was barely within my willpower to not walk up and yank this girls dress over her head.
Usually my fashion observations center on the girls at the bar. However, last night was a first. The biggest fashion faux pas of the night belongs to a guy. Yes, you read that correctly and not just any guy, "THAT" guy. THAT guy is the one at any party or bar who gets so inebriated he cannot function, loses all sight of the fine line between socially acceptable and ridiculous, and usually brings some stellar, out of this world moves to the dance floor. Last night THAT guy provided endless entertainment for all of us. First, THAT guy was obviously out to impress the ladies with his fashion sense in his Tire Factory t-shirt and skin tight faded jeans. Another move guaranteed to get the ladies to look is some air guitar to AC/DC while you shake your ass like a girl missing a stripper pole. As the night continued on, THAT guy's skin tight jeans just couldn't hold up to all the dippin', bumpin' and grindin' he was doing because his inseam split from his crotch to his knee (he was a boxer wearer thank god). But not even split pants could stop THAT guy last night. He just kept dancin' and air guitarin' with his shorts hanging out all over the place.
Maybe if I ran a matchmaking service I could hook THAT guy up with the bedazzled troll from Bushwhackers.

In Brief

Between my work, cowboy's work, my time with M., cowboy's time commitments with his kids, and my school, we are lucky if we get to see each other once a week. The benefits to this is it forces us to communicate well early on, and he understands where I'm coming from when things get messed up with visitation times, when I have to devote time and attention to M, and when I just have to deal with stupid shit from my ex. And the ex has done his share of stupid shit lately. Every time I think I am finally dealing with a grown up, WRONG!
Friday M's dad called and said he had to bring her home at noon on Sunday. Well, so much for spending all day in bed with cowboy but I said that was fine. Today at noon M's dad calls and says "where are you? how soon will you be here?" He had completely forgotten he told me he would drop her off. Thursday M's dad called and said he couldn't watch M on this coming Tuesday night. Hello, she's your kid - you don't watch her like you're her babysitter, she's half yours.

Last night the planets aligned and both cowboy and I had a kid free night so we planned on going out. I was also invited to a graduation BBQ for a friend I had gone through most of my undergrad degree with. I have spent the last 11 years with M's dad attending any and all events by myself. If the event did not include his circle of friends, he would tell me he couldn't possibly have anything in common with anyone there and he didn't like meeting new people or he had to go kill furry animals in the woods. Hell, sometimes it would be something with his friends and I would still end up going on my own. Imagine my utter amazement and complete shock when I mentioned this graduation BBQ to cowboy, said that I would like to make an appearance before we went out to the bar, and he willingly went with me! and had a good time!

The trolls weren't at Bushwhacker's last night, but still an entertaining evening all the same.
Fashion 101: the rolls of fat spilling over a strapless tube top are not attractive, nor does dousing the fat rolls in glimmer lotion make them any more appealing.
Fashion 102: multi-color highlights on the top layers of your hair are in, bleaching only your bangs and the sides is just f'ugly.
Fashion 103: cowboy hats go nicely with cowboys and cowgirls at a cowboy bar... they do not go so nicely with a wanna-be troll whose cowboy hat has strings to hold it on her head. And should any of you out there reading this decide to wear a cowboy hat, the front goes right above your eyebrows - not even with the top of your forehead.
Fashion 104: cowboy boots go under your jeans and if your fringed cowboy boots don't fit under your jeans, that's a big fat clue you shouldn't be wearing fringed cowboy boots. I would hope all boots made since 1995 are fringe free.

And after Bushwhackers, yes I brought my cowboy home. The official word... colored briefs.