I don't know when it happened, if there was a specific moment or of it's just years of frustration building up, but I've become kind of a sourpuss.
I spent most of my life being described as a "happy" person, someone who smiled a lot, giggled a ton, and overall had a great zest for life. I am not saying those aspects of my personality no longer exist (you should have seen me at the Deborah Gibson show on Saturday...I was like maybe 13 and thrilled beyond belief), but I no longer think it's the majority of my personality. I still love to laugh, but usually it's a bit maniacal, inappropriate, or self-deprecating. Or it's at people, and not necessarily with them. Or it ends it tears (kidding...maybe).
Tonight my Facebook was abuzz with status updates from college and high school friends who were all watching The Bachelorette, and what do I do? I basically start slandering the one contestant who I've personally met a couple times. He was a nice enough guy the first time I met him (I think it was at a networking event) but one time when I saw him out he lied to a friend of mine after she said "Hey, is your name ***?" (starred to protect the "celebrity") and he was all "No, you are mistaken...". Douche. Later in that night I was like "Hey ***!" and when he saw me, and then saw the girl he had just lied to minutes earlier, he was like "Haha, hilarious...I was just kidding around!" and tried to be all Joe Cool, as if he hadn't just been caught acting like a trader (pseudonym for "douchebag" in Chicago). Whatev.
I clearly have a problem with forgiving people, don't I?
In other news, Saturday night one of my (almost) equally awkward friends and I went out determined to step outside our comfort zone and at least TRY to talk to guys. Midway through the night we stopped at a totally dead bar to just chill for a drink, and this teeny guy with hockey hair (aka - a mullet, albeit a short one, and teeny meaning probably not taller than me - hard to say because we were sitting down when he came over to us - and maybe weighs less) came up to us to start chatting. He said he was new to the neighborhood, and being nice Midwestern girls, we decided we'd be good neighbors and talk to him. We didn't mean for it to be for a long time, but apparently he did, as he plopped down and made himself comfortable.
Through our conversation, we discovered the barometer he used to use to measure a person's intelligence was whether or not they could name at least two Italian Renaissance artists (I can, but I didn't, since he said he "used to" use it.) I told him it was a pretty unfair barometer, as not everyone has had the chance to enjoy art in their lifetime. For the record,I was going to say "Da Vinci, Bellini, Caravaggio, and Botticelli."**
Well, blah blah blah, my friend and I chatted with him for a little while, as we both tried to send each other nonverbal messages that we wanted to get the f*** out of there (we discussed this as we left the bar). We finally got our act together to leave, to which he replied "Well, can I like get your email address or something? Are you girls on Facebook?" My friend looked at him blankly, but I, of course, was all "Yeah, of course we are on Facebook!". That's when he asked me for my email address. Now, as mentioned in an earlier post, Karma can be a bitch, so I never give out inaccurate information. So guess what happened? Today I got an email. Of course, right?!
The one thing that is good about getting an email is that we could now look him up on FB. So I promptly called my friend from Sat night and we looked him up on Facebook. My friend started hysterically laughing and said "Look at his status updates from yesterday!". So I did, and this is what we found:
J**** L**** is thinking about Italian Renaissance art.
Yesterday at 12:29
For the record, his relationship status states "It's complicated", and in his pictures he looks a little bit like a leprechaun.
In his email he stated "It was a pleasure to meet you and (friends name) on Saturday. I really needed to be rescued from the bachelorette party craziness down the street at John Barleycorn's. Our sophisticated chit-chat did the trick. Are you up for more drinks and chit-chat? Thursday night?"
So, what do I do in order to not have karma hot on my heels?
**About three months ago, the same friend and I were asked "What are the six countries that end in the letter L?" What the heck is up with trivia questions at the bar? We were able to name Brazil, Portugal, Senegal, Israel, and Nepal, but couldn't come up with the sixth. That was mainly because the guy was counting Istanbul as a country, but alas, it is not. "Istanbul was Constantinople!"