Fat, Fat Tuesday

“I’m fat,” said Big Man on Campus (ex college boyfriend, still very good friend). “I’m loosing my girlish figure.”

“So am I,” I replied. “I’ve been working out like a fiend, cardio, weights, yoga but it does nothing to curb my daily cupcake/cookie craving at 3:00 p.m.”

“I’m lazy. I haven’t been working out, I haven’t been eating well, I’ve been drinking a lot. It’s the tri-fecta of lazy and fat.”

“Wow. Yep – that’d do it. Well, if it helps, I still love you!”

“I feel unattractive with my shirt off. Could you please pass the tater tots?”

"I'm not quite to that point yet. I still feel attractive with my shirt off. Mostly because my boobs are fabulous and I wear sexy lingerie."

(Waitress walks by) “Ya’ll doing ok?”

“I’ll take another Miller Lite draft and he’ll have another rum & coke”

“And an order of the Spinach Dip”

(Waitress walks away)

“I hate men”

“What's the reason this week?”

“Well – I had an AMAZING date with Irish Guy on Friday. At first, I thought ‘oh no! I’m being too much myself – being a little too honest, sarcastic, etc.’ but then he gave me the most amazing kiss ever!! Truth be told, we made out for a good 30 minutes – unbelievable! So I took that as a good sign.”

“Making out with someone for 30 minutes is never a BAD sign”

“I mean, you wouldn’t make out for 30 minutes with someone you weren’t attracted to, right?”

“Depends on how drunk I was”

(Scarlett starts counting the number of drinks ordered in her head…)

“I’m just kidding! I’m sure he was attracted to you. So what’s the problem?”

“Well, I didn’t hear from him all weekend and then I get a little email on Monday saying ‘how was the rest of your weekend? I went to an Oscar party last night but left early because I didn’t want to be a vegetable today’ so I replied, ‘A vegetable? Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?’ (ha. ha. cute, no?) and then I gave him a few sentences about my weekend, commented on the cold weather – asked him what he was up to this week and…NOTHING. No reply email. No “I had a great time and would love to see you again.” NOTHING. WTF?"

“Well, give him one more day to respond and if nothing, fuck him”

“It’s still frustrating.”

“I’m interested in a girl.”

“Really? Do tell.”

“She’s married”

That spawned a whole different conversation. As we walked out BMOC, grabs a few Mardi Gras beads that decorated the bar Tuesday evening and placed them over my head.

"You have to show me your boobs now."

"You've alerady seen my boobs."

"True. Well then consider those beads payment for services rendered."

"So noted."

Frankly,

Sex & The Red Carpet

Instead of regaling you with tales of my date with Irish on Friday (i.e. the BEST SEX of my LIFE) – I've chosen to add a few opinions and commentary on last night's Oscar celebration. After all, what kind of pop-culture obsessed, aspiring bitchy fashionista would I be if I didn’t give you a play by play of the red carpet??

There I was, watching all of the glitz, the glam, the extensions…in tres fabulous homebody mode in boxer shorts, a grey, faded U of M sweatshirt, my favorite pink, fuzzy slippers and the perfect accessory: a freshly popped bottle of champange. What more could a girl want, right? Well, I'll tell you. I WANT TO WEAR A PRETTY DRESS and spend hours having my hair done, my makeup professionally applied, my nails manicured, spray tan applied and my own personal fashion consultant!!!!

Sigh. Pout. 

But even in the far more subdued glamor style of fuzzy slippers I still felt compelled to provide a stream of conscious-type commentary.

The Oscars: The Good

Of course the Oscars bring out the beautiful people of the silver screen - however - watching all of these just incredibly stunning women makes me just want to give up!

Penelope – you looked AMAZING!!! While I prefer you in your signature black dress, you looked equally alluring in your pale shaded ball gown. Equally poised was your acceptance speech. Bravo.

Natalie Portman – I frequently reel over her performance in "Closer", but she is just such a perpetually stunning woman. 

 

Kate Winslet – Congrats to you, Kate with your Academy Award and thank you for giving us girls with curves something to aspire to (i.e. not size negative 4). Also, hands down my favorite dress of the night (with Reese Witherspoon coming in at a close second). Apparently the one shoulder statement was tres en vogue this year. I’ll have to remember that for my next black tie event….of course by the time that comes around – who knows!?

Angelina: YES YES for the green jewelry with the black dress. Understated. Classic. Bravo.

Jen: GOOD FOR YOU! Way to walk on stage looking stunning directly in front of your ex and the women that he left you for. I know I personally could not do it with your grace and poise no matter now many millions of people were watching. Then again they were on a 7 second delay and who knows WHAT went on in the theatre while they were rolling the animation clips. What do you think Brad was thinking as he watched her? Hm.

Incidentally – did you see the RED!? Yea for the comeback of the red dress, Amy Adams, Heidi Klum and several others!!!

The Frightful

Woopi – ware you going on safari??? I’m all for leopard print honey but seriously, if Joy doesn’t berate you on the View tomorrow for your fashion…choice of dress…that is blatant censorship. 

SJP – Maybe I’m just not ‘in the know’ or fashion forward enough to appreciate this “mint” colored froufrou dress. Carrie – you know I love ya, but ….I wasn’t a fan. 

Beyoncee – May I just say, “no”. NO NO NO. She looked like a piece of Greek pottery! This dress violated every rule of curvy girl fashion, mainly #1 - NO MERMAID DRESSES! Those dresses are for women who have figures a la 10-year old boys and need at accentuate any curves they have. 

Jessica Biel – was I the only one who thought her dress looked like the towel that I wrap around myself when I come out of the shower? Seriously – it looks like she wrapped some fabric around herself and then tucked it in in front. 

Thus conculdes my not so deep Oscar Night thoughts.

Now back to the sex. 

To make a long story short (and I will share the long story at another time) – when I said “the BEST sex EVER” – I wasn’t referring to literal physical intimacy. I was referring to the absolute INSANE fantasies that plagued me all weekend following the hands down, most amazingly sexy kiss, I’ve EVER received. 

Definitely an Oscar worthy leading man.

Frankly,

Just Like a Circus

Apparently I miss football season so much that I'm now using sports metaphors to describe, what is quickly becoming, a very, if not complicated, definitely busy love life (see below). However, upon further consideration, circus terminology such as juggling, clowns and three rings would be much more appre-peaux. Anyone know where I can get a fire breathing midget?

In Play

No word from Lawyer Man (i.e. Sex Fiend) – neither surprised or disappointed. 

With much pushing and prodding from many circles, I FINALLY asked Boss Man (my former boss) out for drinks. Perhaps “asked out” implies a little stronger and more direct verbiage than what was actually used. Let me attempt a more accurate description.

I casually suggested that we meet for happy hour so that I could catch him up on everything happening here and I wanted to hear how his job search was going, etc. etc. Very passive aggressive – not overtly romantic. A strategic approach in my opinion. It lends plausible deniability should he indeed think of me as a co-worker and nothing more however, it gives me the opportunity to get him into a dimly lit, alcohol laced setting where I happen to show up looking effortlessly stunning thus giving him the perfect opportunity to commence with confessions of love and adoration. 

I may be living in a fantasy world – but at least I own beach front property!

He accepted my invitation and we’re trying for next week. He’s not swift with the email replies and so I’m estimating his next response suggesting time and place (I predict my calendar to be absolutely filled until Friday (wink, nudge) most likely on Tuesday or Wednesday. 

Next Half

I’ve got some potential dates lined up for next week. One with a tall, blonde, blue eyed (but I’ll try not to hold that against him) Texan, and the other with a guy for whom I have yet to come up with a clever Blog name. Hmmmmm. I seem to gravitate towards uncreative names describing the man’s nationality, heritage or profession (Canadian, Russian, Texan, Lawyer Man, Football Player….). Keeping with that somewhat mundane but effective trend, I’ll dub him “Irish” for now. And in true to both our respective heritages, we’re planning a pub-type date. 

AND – in the seemingly ever present quest to make my life even MORE complicated – Because, honestly, we all know how boring my blog is when my life is uncomplicated and happy….

Off the Bench

The Canadian is moving back to DC in August.

Army is back state side in about 6 weeks.

(Queue ominous soap opera-esque kettle drums) Bum…. Ba Bum...Bum Buuuummmmmmm!

Frankly, 

'Cuz That's Just Who I am This Week

So, after being canceled on last Thursday for date #2 with Lawyer Man, I was almost ready to toss him onto the discard pile – however, after feeling somewhat generous I decided to take him up on his offer of Thai food and a movie at his place last night. 

Not necessarily a mistake…but not exactly the most brilliant of ideas. Let me break it down for you this way: He’s insanely attractive. Tall, dark, handsome, beefy but in a crazy strong, muscley, rugby player kind of way (just the kind of guy you want to snuggle up with and, incidentally just my type). Yummy. Definite chemistry. However, that’s where the pros end. Purely superficial. 

He’s sweet, but in an “I’m too sexy for my shirt” kind of way. He’s all with the calling me “baby”, which, after a week long acquaintance is annoying in itself. But then, when this grown man started pouting – literally pouting – after I drew the "no sex" line …I was definitely turned off. Especially when he pulled out the, “but I’m so crazy about you, baby”. To which I replied, “calm down, pout boy, you don’t even KNOW me!!? Furthermore, if you think this is some kind of litigation to be argued and negotiated upon, consider me judge and jury of the Supreme Court 'o Love. Your verdict: Guilty.” 

And so, in his rather lawyerish way, he started a lengthy appeal process, touting the merits of his case. He wants to date me exclusively. He’s hardly ever felt this way. That I'm amazing. That he NEEDED to express his feelings. Puh-lease! 

That schpeal might work on a girl desperate for male attention, affection or a relationship, unfortunately for him, that’s NOT me - this week anyway. 

Poor boy, his plan backfired and the relationship talk was a turn OFF. I just got back on the market! I don't care how cute he is - the only way i'm jumping off the highway at the first rest stop is if Russell Crowe is holding the exit sign! And the begging - just pathetic. I thought I had left these sorry tactics back in the frat house where they so definitely belong.

Amateur seduction hour aside - while physically speaking chemistry exists, mental stimulation is next to nil. There was not a bookshelf to be found in his apartment (strike one); he doesn’t make me laugh and half my witty, sarcastic one-liners soar over his head(strike two); he’s waaaaay too quick with the cute nicknames which either cinches the 'most transparent motives in DC award' and is just trying to get laid or b) that, much like Fuckhead, he’s an emotional whore (strikes three and/or four!). 

I'm no expert but doesn't that qualify as a definitive "out" in most sporting circles?

While yes, a little lovin’ is always fun and very much needed, this is NOT someone with whom I envision a future. 

So frankly, what's the point??

Goin' on a Man Hunt

Well, thank you to DC Blogs for drawing extra special attention to my extra special lack ....of attention.

 

But moving on.

 

The date with Lawyer Man went well - considering that it was my first "first" date in roughly a year and a half - getting an email the next morning saying,:

 

Scarlett,

 

Can I just tell you that you're simply amazing and I want to spend more time with you.

What are you doing tonight?

 

Lawyer Man

 

A flattering start, no?

 

Well he's absolutely georgous by any definition. Kinda tall (5'10), dark and handsome - just my type. Definitely a romantic - very touchy feely, very complimentary, very no games. Which is good - in theory, right? Right.

 

The problem is (because there's always a problem, or complication or...drama...because if there weren't, it wouldn't be my life) is that #1, I'm afraid, not of jumping, of being unwillingly catipulted into another relationship; #2. After THREE YEARS of overlapping relationship after relationship, I would like to Date - actually DATE a bit.

 

I want to walk down the sidewalk, trying to anticipate whether or not the man next to me will hold my hand. I want to go to a movie and nervously analyze his arm/leg movements and decern whether or not he's trying to get closer to me or touch me. I want to agonize over my outfit and feel extra sexy when I walk out the door, hoping to make him get all hot and bothered over dinner.  I want to have anticipation as  he walks me home as to whether or not he'll kiss me goodnight. I want to WONDER - to hope.

 

I want someone that I WANT - not a damn fan club!!!

 

Does that make sense? The thrill of the chase - isn't just for boys ya know. I want to put the effort into all out killer seduction, not just have the man roll over and play dead.

 

My father would roll his eyes and say, "heaven forbid you date a man who actually LIKES YOU!?!?!"

 

Now despite popular opinion, I'm NOT a maschochist. But I want ....to adore someone...not just be adored. I want to want someone because of what I see in them - not just because of what they see in me. I want to have the opportunity to feel that 'wanting', that yearning, that lust instead of just reacting to someone else's desire. I want the mirror to reflect both ways.

 

I'm not saying that I'm not going to see Lawyer Man again (truth be told, date #2 is scheduled for tonight), but I'm definitely not ready to take the first man i find and leave it at that.

 

Frankly,

 

Meet Scarlett - The Hot Mess

I’m a mess – I admit it. I’m a creatively scatterbrained, disorganized mess! To illustrate my point, this is how I left my apartment on Saturday. 

Yes, my friends – I walked all around Dupont Circle, Adams Morgan, Woodley Park and the gym enjoying the gorgeous weekend weather – WITH TWO DIFFERENT SHOES ON MY FEET!!! And no – it was NOT on purpose.

You can’t help but laugh. 

Disturbingly enough, this kind of crazy brained behavior has spread into my love life, which I am trying to jump start. So a friend offered to set me up and I decided to dust off the jumper cables. 

Friday afternoon, Mr. Lawyer and I traded several emails and we decided to meet today (Monday) for HH in Dupont. The plan was that he would call me on Sunday evening to confirm. Well, no call came on Sunday and so I shot off an email last night, very casually asking if we were still on for today. As of this morning I hadn’t heard back – and so was cursing the name of men everywhere trying to discern during what drug/alcohol induced haze I had the bright idea that dating would be a good plan.

As usual, I got myself entirely more wound up than I needed to be. 

Until I received a confirmation of our drink plans about 30 minutes ago. Any logical person would think - "good - all fears abated - dating STILL a good plan." However, we're taking about Scarlett - the hot mess.
NOW I’m dreading the whole thing – just knowing that I’m not going to like this guy. That he’ll be boring; or quiet or arrogant or unattractive or WORSE: that I’ll like him, which bring with it a whole DIFFERENT set of worries. What if I like him and he doesn’t like me; what if I picked the wrong shade of red to wear today; what if…..

UGH – see! Even my brain mirrors my mismatched footwear!!!!

Nevertheless, I will meet him this evening, jumper cables in hand and attempt to discover there is, if not a spark, at least a faint whisp of smoke.


Frankly,

Smile Like You Mean It

Obviously I’m more inspired to write when things are going bad than when life is moving along swimmingly. So here is a happy-healthy-non-neurotic-anti-obsessive post, just for fun.

After a looong day, I took the bus home, yadda, yadda, yadda – had a lovely and nutritious dinner consisting of whole wheat pita, hummus, and the salad I had prepared for lunch the day before. I then braved the freezing cold and dropping temperatures and met a friend out at the Russia House for cocktails. We had a LOVELY time, great conversation, etc. etc. I ordered one (and ONLY one) very strong cocktail, which was enough. A string of colossally debilitating hangovers have made happy hour a little less “happy” – and so one was enough. 

So I came home, checked my email (waiting for an email from Boss Man confessing his undying love…pathetic? Perhaps. More on those developments later) and when that materialized in nothing but a disappointed ‘sigh’, I turned on the TV to watch ‘American Idol: Hollywood Week’ – hot off the DVR.

Fantastically dramatic complete with the Flaming, yet cute boy CRYING, no SOBBING Hysterically over something that happened with his group. Quite amusing. But the event that truly warmed my heart to see, was ‘Bikini Girl’s’ unceremonious departure from the show. I was praying for Judge Kara to smack her back to season 1! Also, was she wearing yellow tights or was that self-tanner gone awry? Anyone?? 

Either way...ew. But seeing her miserable made me all sorts of warm and fuzzy inside.

So then, I climbed into bed and watched an episode of ‘HOUSE’. My new favorite drama. Despite the fact that the plot line revolved around a child dying of leukemia, I found myself truly Laughing Out Loud! The writing was so dry and hysterical - just up my alley. So I laughed and laughed out loud. Its something that hasn’t happened for awhile – it felt GREAT. 

And the best surprise of all, my little black cat – (who is tres fabulous and struts her feline aloofness around the apartment) – not only came up to snuggle with me in bed (an event in itself, but burrowed UNDER the covers with me and curled up in the crook of my arm, quietly purring. 

And as I reached that state right before sleep, with my cat purring by my side, that final awareness of your body before you drift off, I realized....I was smiling. Not, some huge, cheesy grin, but an involuntary, natural curve of my mouth. And I went to sleep comfortable…and happy.

Go figure.

Frankly,

The Road to Hell is Paved with My Day

I'm sorry for not writing - or more sorry for leaving up my last, rather depressing post.  So this is just a quick update so that I'll have posted SOMETHING this week and I'm tempted to leave it at that. 

Today has been a day filled with annoyances. In an effort to stick with me 'super crazy, my body is going to look amazing this summer if its the last thing I do' diet, this morning not only found me hitting the snooze button a total of 2 times (as opposed to the usual 10) but in the gym not soon after. After making the elliptical trainer my bitch, I ran back to The Shoebox, took a shower, was running ahead of schedule...all was good. Prepared my super nutritious, high-on-fiber-low-on-taste lunch (which involved chopping and cutting and genuine preparation as opposed to the usual tossing of a frozen entree into my bag). Hell! I even COUNTED out an exact serving size of 16 fat-free crackers into a zip-lock baggie. All sounds a promising start to the day, no? Well....wait for it.

So, I feed the cats, leave the Shoebox, walk down the stairs and leave my building with Natasha Beddingfield's 'Freckles' streaming through my ipod. The snow's falling, air is crisp and I think "this is going to be a great day" as I walk to the bus stop. So I'm standing there in the cold, waiting for the bus for about 10 minutes and all of a sudden it hits me: I left my fabulously and meticulously prepared lunch on the kitchen table!!!! Oy!

By this time, the bus is already running late so I think there's no WAY I have time to run back and get it. I'm disappointed that I won't have my calorie perfect lunch, but I shake it off. And then I just started shaking in general - because I was FREEZING! It took 30 minutes - 30 MINUTES before not one but THREE BUSSES pulled up caravan style to the corner. The inefficiency of the Washington Metro System never ceases to astound me.

So I get on the bus, sit down in an empty row and attempt to de-thaw my frozen limbs. No sooner do I settle in (10 minute lateness to work now an inevitability) then someone tries to sit down beside me.
NOTE TO ALLLLL MASS TRANSIT TRAVELERS: If your ass is large enough to blanket THREE Seats, DO NOT ATTEMPT to squeeze into a seat next to someone else!!!!

Arrived at work - where I promptly spilled coffee on my freshly dry cleaned and pressed suit and if ONE MORE PERSON tells me "You look tired". I am going to SCREAM!

Do I have dark circles? I don't think so - but I may have to nip over to Sephora for some heavy duty treatment of some kind because this is driving me nuts. I got a good night sleep last night, have been working out, eating right, drinking more water than I ever thought was humanly possible and I look  TIRED?? 

I started out with good intentions but DAMN. Frankly I'm just glad this day is almost over!


Frankly,