Excitement Is A 10-Letter Word

Everyone gets lucky sometimes, even me. I recently met a sweetheart of a girl with a darling country accent who hails from the great state of Georgia. I won't embarass her by giving her name here, but she knows who she is. And she is awesome.

It came as a surprise, really. I put out some feelers and actually managed to get a hit. We've been getting to know each other over the past few weeks and every day the excitement grows. I can't wait to get home to find an email from her, or sit and chat on Messenger. I find myself thinking of her at work, at home, in the shower... Well, c'mon, I'm a guy.

She is a rare gem, shining brighter in every facet as it turns in the sun... Sure, I'm a little sappy, but gimme a break, I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever find such a treasure. And yet, there she was. Timid, but brave enough to take a chance on me. She thinks my girls are adorable, which, of course, they are. :) She's adventurous, sweet, responsible, kind, and just a touch of naughty - it's amazing she was even available to grab up.

Granted, she's not mine yet, but things are progressing well. Every day feels like another step toward a beautiful romance. And those of you who think I'm being a wimp for feeling romantic can eat a giant dick. If I feel the desire to buy flowers and write poetry, it's a good thing. Besides, when you're this awesome, you can't really do much of anything to tarnish your image. :) Okay, that was a little egotistic...

At any rate, I can't wait to see where this rose-colored road leads. I've been lucky so far, perhaps soon I shall add blessed to the list. In any case, the worst that can happen is making a new, awesome friend. Naturally, I'm hoping for more. But it's nice to be in a win-win situation.

Just Like Old Times, But With A Bigger Headache

Okay, so the first step toward Funville has been taken, which is good, but I think I sprained my ankle in the process. (Metaphorically speaking, of course.) It takes a bigger toll on the old body to be out late drinking than it used to. I had a good time, though. I went out with some friends from work - we drank, shot some pool (I totally owned everyone), drank some more, and polished off the evening with that most wonderful of post-binge traditions, Waffle House.

Steak and Eggs, Baby. Steak and Eggs.

Anyway, I woke up today with a beaver chewing on my skull and napalm in my throat. Turns out that getting older makes it more difficult to bounce back from a night of frivolity. And, of course, my darling daughters decided to play "let's jump up and down on Daddy" this morning. Bonus.

But, the important thing is I had a good time. I spent too much money and nearly slept with someone who I have since learned is a bit of a psycho, but all is well. It's always better to find out someone is bat-shit crazy before nailing them in a moment of drunken inhibition-less-ness. I know. I've tried doing it the other way around, and it never works out.

And ladies (guys too, I suppose), why is it that you can't let the crazy hang out right from the beginning? Why do you always have to wait until we (I) develop an attachment or at least some small feelings for you before you wave the nutjob banner? Honestly, just be yourself. Even if yourself sucks, there is someone out there who is perfect for you. Someone who digs drama, trivial fights, jealousy, being controlled and watched like a hawk. It just ain't me, lady.

I'm kind of ranting now, so it's time to finish up.

In summation: Had fun last night. Dodged sleeping-with-crazy-people bullet. Check your drama at the door. Pass the aspirin. Steak and eggs, baby. Steak and eggs.