My life, as if Hollywood was making a movie on it.

This is me. A girl, no, a woman who has hit her mid-twenties and has no idea what to do with her life. I have a job. It affords me rent and not much else. The job has its perks. Most people I know don’t meet the Dalai Lama through their jobs, or see Broadway shows for free. Yet still, I find myself wanting more. I recently applied for a server position at a local pub. Not for money, but because of boredom. The man who interviewed me also owns the local strip club and at the end of the interview instead of saying, “you sound like a good match,” he said, “I like the look of you.” Most females would be offended, I found it fascinating the way he chose his words and had idle curiosity if he thought of me on a pole during our interview.
I have issues.
If you were to take a peak at my love life you might think I was trying to write my own Hollywood love story through it. I have dated men, boys, whores, daddies, husbands (unknowingly), assholes, bitches, and jerk-offs. I’ve fallen for my best friend, fallen for my best friend’s friend, and slept with my friend’s boyfriend. I’ve been cheated on countless times and I’ve cheated on my boyfriends twice.
Currently, I’m dating a man who on the surface seems like the perfect man, until you realize you are dating his family as well. Yes, I’m dating a man who at almost 26, still lives with his mother and father. Before you judge too harshly, they live on a ten-bedroom, 3 car garage, ½ mile driveway, 4 bathroom, swimming pool, pond, and hot tub property. Fuck, I’d live with my mother for that. Well, maybe not. And this man is currently looking for a house to live in. It makes it ok. For now.
His family immediately disliked me, and until a recent outing involving extreme drunkenness, continued to hate me while hiding it from my boyfriend. Leave it to Catholics to grow closer over 4 drinks at the local pub. Since then, I haven’t had near as many problems, even if they are still a little stiff around me. I’m Presbyterian and it must have been a harsh blow to realize that I could keep up with them at the pub.
I have two alcoholic friends, who are also catholic and my former and current roommates, these are who trained me for that moment with the boyfriend’s family. They are good friends, only giving me a hard time about things that don’t matter in the long run. For instance, they make fun of my over-use of the word, literarily. Literarily, I cannot stop using the word. It’s as if I fear that the world won’t take me seriously or will find my life is actually some kind of fantasy. If I use the word, this somehow negates anyone from thinking I was joking. I can’t fault them for making fun of me for that, it’s a problem, along with my text messaging. I have serious problems with text messaging.
I don’t however, have problems with alcohol. Those two, do. Also, they tend to sleep with each other a lot. While one would happily date the other, the other is crazy in love with my other one of my friends. She, on the other hand, hates my roommate and constantly rejects him. It’s a sad story of unrequited love. I try to stay out of it as much as possible. I know how that kind of love feels and I don’t know what will happen when one of them breaks from it.
My private personal life is different than anyone expects.
This is the life that doesn’t involve boys or girls or love. While most people think I’m outgoing and talkative and I’d need those things, I don’t really appreciate either of them. Outgoing and talkative people rather annoy me, which surprises most. I have independent “me” time, some of this time I disappear completely making me a mystery to some of my not-so-close friends. I enjoy running by myself so I can think, the nights I feel crummy I enjoy steaming apple cider and a good game of euchre, I appreciate letters in the mail from friends, I write in a blog because I enjoy an objective opinion whenever I can get one, I think best in the atmospheres of coffee shops, I love dancing alone in my room to Michael Jackson, I appreciate books that I read curled up while it rains or snows, and even though I dislike people and groups, I do like large parties where people mingle, where I can stand against a wall, watching the people interact… quietly, sipping wine.

Home for the Holidays: Mars Attack.

My family lives on 650 acres.
The driveway is 1/4th mile long.
My room window and my parent's window face out into an open field.
The nearest neighbor on that side is one mile away.
The actual nearest neighbor is 1/2th mile.

My mother goes to bed at 10pm.
My father at 12am.
My brother at 12:15am.
Me at 1:15am.

I laid down in my bed and sighed.
My room was filled with a bright light.
From outside.

I sat up, half of me wondering if I had passed out and dreamt it, the other half scared that I hadn't.
I looked outside, in between the Venetian blinds, one story up, I couldn't' see anything but open field and darkness.
I decided to make my way downstairs and see if my parents were up from it.
I walked quietly into my parents room, feeling like I was six again and scared of a thunderstorm.
Quietly, I shook my mom awake.
"What is it honey?" she said, hoping I wasn't still afraid of thunderstorms.
"My room just flooded with light and then it disappeared," I said, hoping she had an answer.
"You must have dreamed it," she said, "we live in the middle of a field, there is no one around us."

At that moment her room flooded with light.

Being on the ground floor, it was ten times worse. It was as if someone was standing in our yard and had turned on and off a spot light at the window.
My father woke up for this one and was mildly in shock seeing his daughter standing in his room and everyone awake other than him.
"Turn off the light," he said before rolling over.

The light chose to go off at the moment almost like my father was in control of it.

"Jim, it's coming from outside," my mother said patiently.

This made my father bolt from the bed and stagger over to the window to peer out.
"I don't see anything," he said.
"Neither did I, when I looked outside," I explained.

My father let out some kind of explicative and left the room.
I could hear him on the phone in the other room. Moments later he returned and laid back down without a word.

After the Conservation's Officer came to our house and caught the spot light people we found out about the mysterious Buck in the area of our house. Apparently, the Buck is a prized kill to any hunter and those people really wanted to shoot it.
They wanted it so badly that they were willing to trespass on someone else's land, shine a spot light at their house, and shoot the animal while it was blinded by the light.
Even if their guns were pointed at our house.

They are all arrested now.
Fun times in the country.

In other news...

... ID told me this weekend that NG cheated on me.

Which explains:
Why he became distant.
Why he stopped having sex with me.
Why he kept introducing me to family but not spending one on one time with me.

It was some girl he picked up at a bar, took her home, his roommate drove them both, and then didn't talk to again after that. I just laughed when ID told me that, which I don't think he thought I'd do.

It just makes me that much happier to be with Mr. Lust instead of NG.

Battle of the mother in law

This being almost my 25th year on this earth, and being that my mom was married at her 25th year, the references to my future happiness with a significant other has started. They are small things that I can tolerate, so I'm fine with it.


One of the most recent ones is her and my discussion of Mr. Lust's mom, whom she refers as "your possible future mother-in-law." I know she does this because she fears me getting stuck with her the rest of my life, and she wants to point that out, but now we just refer to her as, "the mother-in-law," which is a little creepy.

So let's discuss the mother-in-law. I cannot use her name on here since she's really good at Googling things. My Y! messenger has my e-mail as quietlysippingwine@yahoo.com and I'm always scared she'll see Mr. Lust's computer one day, and google "Quietly Sipping Wine" to see what happens. I'm number 3 on that list, and my first blog is number one.

I digress.

Let's start out with, she hates me. I've mentioned before that Mr. Lust's family thinks I'm a gold digger. About the only person I like in the family is his older sister because she and I have made efforts towards each other, and I think we both have a healthy respect for the other. His mom, however, has not warmed up towards me.
You know the usual questions like: "So, QSW, where are you from? What do you do for a living? Where did you go to school? Where do your parents live? How is your hometown?"
She has asked none of them.
In fact, the most I've heard her say in my direction is "Hi QSW" before she runs over and hugs and kisses Mr. Lust.
I guess, at least, she acknowledges me.

Next we have the battle over Mr. Lust. This is a battle. Mr. Lust's house is huge. Five stories, 10 bedroom, lake, pool, hot tub, 4 dogs, and gorgeously out in the middle of nowhere (20 - 25 minutes to get to my house from his).
He lives with his parents.
Yes.
That's right.
He does (but he is looking for a house of his own).
This is where the battle comes in. While Mr. Lust is still at home, his mom is going to try to control him.
Mr. Lust has been spending the night with me a lot lately.
One, we are at that point.
Two, my apartment/house is closer to his office.
Three, he's having a hard time dealing with his family.
This situation only happened after I won the battle. Before, the mother-in-law would call him before he left work and say "Oh, on your way home will you pick up milk? We are getting low"
She has a husband coming home as well, but she'd always ask him.
Or, she'd call him and ask him to pick up his 15 year old brother from driver's ed.
Or, she'd call him and ask him to run an errand.
Or. Or. Or.
At first, Mr. Lust didn't catch on.
I caught on, but this was a battle of wits, and I'd be a dumb ass to tell Mr. Lust. He'd only get defensive of his mother and she'd be winning.
Basically, I'd have to call him earlier, and make plans with him.
Sometimes he'd push plans back if she called, but he'd always see me the evening he promised. Even if it meant taking the milk all the way home, dropping it off, and turning around and driving 20 minutes back to me.
My suspicions were confirmed that this was directed to keep me away from him when one evening she got tipsy and told him that he'd have to drive her home. He said, "I can't I'm going to see QSW after this, and she said, "Well go ahead and call her, cancelling your plans with her." To which he looked over at his sober father said, "You can take her right?" He said, "Of course" and Mr. Lust got up and walked to his car to come see me.
Making me the winner.

Then the phone calls started.
The first time Mr. Lust spent the night at my apartment she called 3 times in the middle of sex because she was worried and didn't know where he was. Thankfully he didn't pick up any of those times, nor did he run to the phone after. He got up only after the phone ran for the 5th time because I said, "Oh, hun, you should get it, something could have happened!" I said this because it showed discreetly how insane it was for his mom calling that many times and because it made me the hero for telling him he should answer it.
I knew it wasn't an emergency, if it was, more people would have been calling.
This made me the winner.

It wasn't until this past week that she claimed defeat though.
Mr. Lust told me about a conversation she had with him, and I knew she had realized during the conversation that I had won.
Her: So when do you look for a house?
Him: Saturday.
Her: You are missing the game?
Him: Yes, I don't feel like babysitting my father at the game.
Her: Well I'm not going to it either, would you like some help looking for a house, it can always help to have a woman's point of view?
Him: One step ahead of you Mom, QSW is coming with me to help look. She's got to work later on that evening, but I have her for the day and she says that she'd love to help me look.
Her: Oh. Well that'll be nice for you two.
(pause, because she left the room for a moment)
Her: (re-entering) You should really invite QSW over more, I've barely gotten a chance to know her.

He tells me this story because he wanted to show that his mom did like me, just hadn't had a chance to show it to me.
I immediately agreed with him.
But it was such Bullshit, she's had MANY chances.

I called my mom.
I told her the conversation. I could almost hear her rolling her eyes at Mr. Lust's mom. Followed with, "He needs to find a house quickly!"
She's so right..."

**********************************************

Last night. Mr. Lust calls. "Wanna go to Chumley's and grab a beer with my sister and myself?"
I jumped at the chance, because I always enjoy nights with her.
He did not tell me that his mother and father were there.
His father left soon after and it was Dave (co-worker), his mom, his sister, and him.
Mr. Lust bought everyone a Long Island.
Soon... we were all tipsy.
The mother-in-law and I started talking.
We have a new respect for one another.
She also made some comments like, "Oh, you've been to London?" and "Oh, I didn't know that you lived on so many arces of land!" Which were just so satisfactory.

And any man who is smart enough to know that booze fixes any uncomfortable, back-stabbing, immature behavior between his girlfriend and his mom, is a man that I can really be with.

Things I learned this weekend...

Mr. Lust's ex use to refer to herself as "his fiancee" whenever he wasn't around. Even to close friend's of his who knew better.

By the time I get everyone convinced that I'm not dating Mr. Lust for money, babies, or marriage, I'll probably want the latter of the three. Seriously, I don't know if anyone will ever believe me otherwise. His ex has ruined it for me.

When helping your significant other look for a house be prepared to be referred as "Mrs. Lust."

If you listen to football and you are a girl, you will automatically be hit on by guys who find you remotely attractive.

Sometimes when you feel the most unattractive, random guys will still come up and hit on you at Blockbuster. Sometimes twice.

Even if you've known someone for 7 years and believe them to be a brother, if they have just gotten out of a serious relationship, they will get you drunk and they will try to go home with you.

Jazz players are air heads.

Waterfront homes are prettier and cost more.

No matter what time of day it is, if you really have to go to the bathroom, your roommate will be in the shower for at least 45 minutes.

My Weekend: A time table.

Friday:
4:00pm - Drive to Indy Airport.
5:30pm - Drive back to Lafayette.
6:40pm - Drop off passengers at Hotel.
7:00pm - Eat Dinner
8:30pm - Go back to Indy Airport.
10:30pm - Drive back to Lafayette.
11:40pm - Drop off people at Hotel again.
12:00pm - Either take shots to catch up with friends, or go to bed... Probably sleep.

Saturday:
8:00am - Running with Amanda
9:00am - Shower
10:00am - Get picked up by Mr. Lust.
10:30am - Meet with Realtor
12:30pm - Eat lunch with Mr. Lust.
3:00pm - Say goodbye to Mr. Lust.
4:00pm - Start picking up same people from Hotel and taking them to Playhouse.
5:00pm - People should all be in place.
6:00pm - Change and get ready
7:00pm - Greet people coming in for performance.
7:30pm - Performance starts.
10:30pm - Performance ends.
11:00pm - Go home, thankfully someone else is taking them.
11:10pm - Probably sleep again.

Sunday:
4:30am - Pick up people from Hotel.
4:55am - Drop them off at a different Hotel.
5:15am - Sleep some more.
10:00am - Wake up and wonder where weekend has gone.

God speaks to me...

... through Blogger.


From this website.
I got here because of lovely Technorati

In other news...

The real post is below... this is just a question.

Should I be scared (as in, slamming the button on my biological clock) that Mr. Lust asked me to come help him look for a house this weekend?
He's looking for a house nearer to his job, friends, and me. He has about 30,000 to put down as a down payment, which is a lot in this area, considering you can actually buy a nice house (4 bedroom and two bath) for about 41,000. He's looking at 6 bedroom houses along the river.

I'm really not scared.
He asked in such a flattering way and there was no feeling of "I'm asking you to help me because I'm so committed to you I want you to move in with me."
He just wants my opinion because he respects me and values it.

Since my friends have all fallen off the deep end of craziness, I feel like I should ask this question to the objective people of the blogging world.

A Flake?

FN decided last night that he was upset with me.

It was almost out of the blue.

I hadn't seen him in a long time, but I thought that it was because of the following:
- My car doesn't work.
- His car doesn't work.
- I live on one side of the river.
- He lives on the other.
- I work 8 to 5
- He works 4 to 12
- I just got in a new relationship.
- He just got into a new relationship.

I assumed he was happy and in love and that I'd see him eventually.
He assumed that since I was dating Mr. Lust that I was a flake.

I have this weird mixture of hatred and depressed-ness running through me.

Finally at 4:30AM he responded to my text messages, IMs, phone calls, etc. with an IM.
Now it's 7AM and I just got it.

His justification?

"Well everyone says you are being a flake since dating Mr. Lust. Well, not everyone but your closest friends ID and RHM. So if they think that then you must be."

Talk about being stabbed in the back.

I live with ID and see him all the fucking time.
I have seen RHM 4 nights out of the 7 last week.
When I was miserable in my last two relationships, I'd see RHM 6 out of the 7 nights in a week and I'd drink with ID all the time.
Now I'm happy, I have less time for either of them.
AKA, I'm a flake.
I hope I can work things out with FN, but I'm having a hard time liking anyone right now.

And the freak out... (somewhat graphic post)

This all preambles this weekend:
To be put on "birth control" in any form (other than condoms) you have to first do a yearly pap smear.

If you don't know what that is, I'm sorry, but you must have gone to Catholic school.

I think almost every girl goes through finding Dr. Right. Not many girls find "love at first sight" or simply don't care, and believe me, Dr. Right for some girls does not mean he/she will be Dr. Right for you.

My Dr. Right has been booked solid for months.
I had an appointment about a month ago (finally) and I had to cancel it on the account of Aunt Flo visiting 1.5 weeks too early.
Drat.

My next appointment couldn't be scheduled until this week, after Aunt Flo had already visited (they didn't want a repeat mistake).

This weekend:
Mr. Lust came over Saturday morning. He was excited. He started coaching Varsity wrestling again and he had had an early morning practice. Oddly enough, after wrestling all morning, he was ready to go.
We spent the day together, just us, we left once to go eat, came back watched movies, spent time with each other... you know... the normal relationship stuff that I have been somewhat deprived of for the last 3 years.
Mr. Lust is thoroughly convinced that I've dated some of the biggest assholes known to man. When I ask things like, "Will you get upset if I just wear a sweatshirt to go out to eat instead of getting dressed up?" is evidence to the fact that I have been emotionally abused because any man should be OK with his girlfriend going to a local pub to eat lunch in a sweatshirt on a Saturday.
I inherited the fear of how good I look in comparison from NG, who shaved his arm and leg hair for fear of people thinking badly of him, aka, his girlfriend needed same standards.

We came home from eating.
We had the apartment to ourselves.
Round two.
After a long time, I was starting to get tired. Having already achieved satisfaction and wanting to give the same in return I whispered in his ear, "Baby, get off."
A few moments later, he went deep inside made a noise and then sat there panting, his arms positioned on either side of my head. Then he rolled over and curled up next to me.

This was not usual.

Usually, he pulls out a good minute before he gets off and he gets off on my stomach.

I laid there, thinking, and I tried not to freak out.

"The last time someone had gotten off inside of me was 5 years ago. I didn't remember what it felt like, but I was sure that this wasn't completely the way it was. Surely Mr. Lust wouldn't have done this. We had talked so much about it, before even doing it, he wouldn't just throw all that away would he?
Mr. Lust constantly has women throwing themselves at him in hopes that he'll get them pregnant. He constantly avoids it. So he wouldn't do this to me...

"I love you, QSW" he whispered into my ear.

Being neurotic, a woman, and naturally crazy, I spun around and said, "I love you too, but not enough to have your children, DO you understand?!"
Somehow I sounded like my mom when she use to say, "You have to apologize to your brother for hitting him, DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?"
Mr. Lust looked stunned for a moment, gained control, and said, "Well, thats always nice to hear. I'm glad to know that you aren't secretly poking holes in my condoms."
"You aren't wearing a condom!" I said, kind of loudly, but still feeling crazy, womanly, and neurotic so it didn't matter.
"Baby, what is the matter?" he asked, so calmly.
Like a faucet that had just been turned on after years of non-use, I started very cautiously, gained steam, and told him exactly how horrible it was that he got off inside me.

It turns out, he didn't.
He didn't get off at all.
Apparently when you wrestle from 8am till 10am then have sex until noon, and then eat, and then go to have sex again, you are tired, and you cannot get off, even if you wanted too.

You learn something new everyday.

Stripper-gram: Morning coffee talk

QSW: Did you hear that 16 year old kid got a stripper-gram sent to him by his parents because they thought they were sending a singing-gram? Imagine a 16 year old having a stripper dancing on him in the middle of class.

Mr. Lust: Wow, lucky kid.

QSW: Aw... you want me to send one of those to your office for your 26th birthday?

Mr. Lust: Not send, but you can come to my office and do a stripper-gram.

QSW: Haha, no.

Mr. Lust: How about pigtails and a school girl outfit?

QSW: At your office? Or just for your birthday?

Mr. Lust: Just for my birthday.

QSW: Kinky. Are you into pigtails?

Mr. Lust: You have no idea.

Welcome to Stat Counter!

In case some of you were wondering how I so easily pryed into your IP addresses here is how.

http://www.statcounter.com

An example of how the hits look is above if you click on the picture to expand it.

It tells where they are coming from (nationally, globally, etc.)

It tells if they came from another person's blog or link.

It tells me if they found me via search engine.

And it tells me if my ex-boyfriends have visited, which is my main concern. ;)

Top 30..

... most interesting places that people come from, to my blog, that I don't already know who they are.

1. Global Crossing
2. Corp Society For The Advancement Of Women's
3. Acs Buisness Systems Inc
4. Tyco Healthcare
5. Masergy Communications
6. Sports Authority
7. Webtrend Inc
8. Nexxia Hse (toronto)
9. Fidalgo Networking Inc
10. Ford Motor Company
11. Oven Fresh Baking
12. The Bank Of New York
13. American Psychological Assoc
14. School Of Oriental And African Studies
15. Singapore Management University
16. Shaw Communications Inc
17. Electric Lightwave Inc
18. Equity Trust Companies
19. Boston University
20. Rochelle Hutcheson & Mccullough Llp
21. Herring National Bank
22. University Of Connecticut
23. Performance Systems International Inc
24. North Carolina Research And Education Network
25. Wanadoo Adsl Customers With Static Addresses
26. Oakland Schools
27. Afrinic (south African hit)
28. Sita-societe Internationale De Telecommunications Aeronautiques
29. University Of California At Berkeley
30. Northrop Grumman Corp

My favorites are in bold. Especially Oven Fresh Bakery, I wonder if its just a man/woman who gets their coffee there, or a bored baker. I've never been to one.
I'm sure some people arriving at my blog will recognize their mark on my blog.
Some I'm sure I'll never know who they are because they don't comment.

Others.. If you want me to take you down, please let me know via e-mail

Tag your it

A). Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog... Heather! I'll get you my pretty... And your little dog too!
B). Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself...(see below)
C). If your name is QSW make up your own rules after that.

**You get it?? --- You got it?? --- [GOOD] --- So here goes:**

1. My first word was dog. That's right, "Mom and Dad," screw that, I loved the dog. Right after I learned that word I pointed to a waitress at a local restaurant and said, "DOG" in the loudest voice imagined. My mom was mortified, my dad chuckled for awhile.

2. I was potty trained in a little under a day. My mom put me in a dress, I didn't want pee running down my leg, and I'd tell her I wanted to go. Couple times, and I was good forever on the subject. My brother on the other hand it didn't work that way. Male anatomy is very different, but my mom tried the t-shirt and no pants way, anyway. She was outside watching my brother, and I came out to tell her something (I was four, my brother was two)I stood at the bottom of the the steps and was talking when my brother ran over to see me. He was waiting patiently at the top step for me to stop talking when he decided he had to go. He peed in a perfect arch onto my head.
Instead of moving, I blamed my brother and started screaming, "MOM MAKE HIM STOP!" and then crying. My brother had no idea what he was doing and finally decided to look around causing the stream to move from my head to the wall. My mom was in tears laughing so hard.
I don't have a single ex-boyfriend who hasn't heard that story from my mom.

3. When I was a 7th grader, I wore blue eye shadow and silver eye liner every day to class. This was the year 1997, mind you. My mom got flack from everyone about it, but allowed me to do it anyway saying, "She'll figure it out for herself that she looks like an idiot." No worries, I did.

4. I babysat a kid when I was in the 9th grade who actually taught ME to ski. We were suppose to stay on the bunny hill, and she just went RIGHT ON DOWN THE BLACK DIAMOND. I had no choice but to follow her. Hence, learning how to ski. I later became a ski instructor teaching all the 7 year olds how to ski.

5. Officially my senior year of high school I got breasts and hips. Men (boys) who hadn't talked to me at all suddenly came up and talked to me, giving me the unique perspective on how men respond to women. I've used these wicked ways to my advantage more than once and I'm pretty proud of it.

6. A play a lot of euchre in my spare time. Usually, if I want a quiet night in, I'll get a bottle of wine, make myself dinner, and play euchre until midnight.

7. Most of my friends (except the closest) think that I'm the sort of woman who doesn't want anything to do with children, who never wants to get married, who is high-maintenance and expects to be taken out a lot, and who would never bend over backwards for a man. This apparently is my "outside shell of a Rockstar" which I portray. In reality it's the opposite.

There you have it, seven facts of QSW.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse

Saturday was girl's night out.
I wanted to see Mr. Lust, but 3 of my girlfriends are very low in their love life right now.
I felt like I should cheer them up and give moral support.
I have not seen Mr. Lust all week and even though I saw him at 11pm on Friday for an hour before we both went to sleep (then he had to work at 8am on Saturday!) it didn't seem to count.
Oh well, I think he was a little hurt when I said I was going out with them. I did tell him I was leaving the bar regardless at 10pm and that we could spend the rest of the evening together.

This seemed to be the perfect compromise, making neither my girlfriends or Mr. Lust upset with my plans.

So Saturday, I call them and try to find out the plans.
One by one, phone call by phone call, all of them seemed to be flaking out.
One won't answer, One said, "Oh, I'm so tired" and one said, "I don't know."
Frustrated and the time nearing 7pm, I gave up and told Mr. Lust that apparently there are no plans.
This was over IM.
No answer.
I tried calling him.
No answer.
From 7pm till 8:30pm I got no phone calls, and since at 3pm everyone wanted to see me and I had to make compromises between them... I was a little put out.
It went from that... to 9pm all of us girls being out at the bar.*
I called Mr. Lust one more time at 9pm before walking in the bar... no answer.
10pm I happened to look down at my phone and see 3 missed calls from Mr. Lust.
I went outside to call him and he let me know he was on his way into town to get me.

Compromise time again.

Since no one got their act together in time, I said to him, "Look, I want to spend a little more time with these girls, come have a drink with us (regardless of girls night) and then I'll leave with you. RHM said she wanted to get to know you better anyway and the other two have been dying to meet you."

He agreed and the girls said that they liked the idea.

He arrived and charmed them all so much that RHM decided to buy a round of "The Four Horseman" shots, after Mr. Lust's first drink, and said it was to convince him to stay out longer. **
We got the shots, clinked and sniffed the shot.
It was some strong booze. Mr. Lust winked at me, and threw the shot back.
RHM did the same.
I threw mine back....
... before I could actually swallow, one of the other girls said something incredibly witty and funny that made me laugh...
... half went down my throat and the other went in my lungs.

Needless to say, it was painful.
There was coughing so hard I was crying.

As soon as I could breathe again I said, "I want to go home."
Mr. Lust was already closing out the bill, and it was too embarrassing to wait indoors coughing so I went outside.
RHM followed me because strange things always happen to me outside of this bar.***
While I'm sitting on the ground coughing my lungs out (every time I coughed I got a new burning sensation like I had just taken a shot) she was giving me the run down of what was happening inside and how she thought Mr. Lust was so sweet.
I didn't care.
Mr. Lust came out, took me by the arm, lifted me up like I was a paper weight and marched me towards his car. I waved to RHM.
I got in his car and he started driving and he was very quiet.
I managed to get out a "Where are you taking me?"
"I'm trying to decide on whether or not to march you into the ER or to take you home." he said, staring straight ahead.
I realized he was scared.
And I started crying all over again.
Coughing and crying.
Like I was 12.
"Home" I croaked.
He clenched his jaw and grabbed my hand.

It was another hour before I finally could breathe 2 or 3 breaths in a row before coughing. I didn't sleep at all until another 3 hours had passed and even then my sleep was broken by coughing. It was morning before I was talking in full sentences and breathing regularly.
I think he was awake most of the night.

The morning light was creeping in and I lay there exhausted next to him. He was staring at me stroking my head.
"How do you feel?"
"Better, exhausted, glad you are here."
"Me too."
(pause)
"I love you QSW"
"I love you too"

Thank goodness it was daylight savings today and he and I slept for another two hours before crawling out at 10am.


*Harry's
** Jack, Jim, Jose, and John
*** I've written about a couple of them: Passing out cold in front of it after a half of drink and being followed to Matt's house by strange men or being chased by Oompa Loompas outside of it. some others are: Having some guy yell at me saying "Melissa why don't you call me" (Melissa is not my name) and being very drunk and running around the corner into someone and knocking him down, only to find out later that he was on the Purdue football team.

To my Fellow Bloggers: I need your help deciding.

ID's "friend" who told me to seek out my "own kind" use to be a "friend" of mine.
Mutual of course.

When she was a "friend" I was feeling nice and I gave her tickets to a lot of children shows that my company hosts. They were free and they were nice seats.

Should I :

A.) Let her keep them, because I've made up with ID and I now know the whole story, and I realize that even though it was her making a big deal out of an over dramatic drunk ID, and not hearing my side, she's still ID's friend and I should respect that.

Or.

B.) Reprint the tickets (making her's invalid) and send her a text message saying, "Hey, you should throw those tickets out, they are invalid now, you should probably get some tickets from your own kind." And then give the tickets to MM and MW.

Tell me what should I do?