Today I found out the hot guy at work was born in 1986…do you know how incredibly wrong and messed up it is that he is that good looking and was basically born whilst I was rocking fluorescent colors and those polyester parachute track suits…it just ain’t right. 

In other news, I have me an admirer.  While this is causing my eyebrows to rise just thinking about it—I have spent some seriously contemplative time on this.  Current Admirer is Work Water Guy (WWG).  WWG is a very nice guy who seems to think I am dreamy.  Needless to say, this is confusing the crap out of me.  The more you try to convince someone that you are not actually as nice as you appear the more they don’t believe you.  The more you try to convince someone who has a crush on you that you are kind of freaky, a bit broken, incredibly needy, and while strong and great in an emergency—I tend to stress a lot during calm and steady times – the less they believe you and the greater they think you are.  Yes, this sounds like a great strategy IF I were in any way capable of strategery in regard to ‘gettin’ a maaan’.   I have successfully scared off a number of perfectly available and hot guys by asking them if we could pretty please have sex.  The blunt approach is no-one’s friend and if you have the ability to play coy I recommend highly you do so (I tried it once for about an hour and it was way harder than I thought).  Anywhoodle, I have not scared off WWG (yet) and was actually scared off myself (because hello! People don’t chase me; *I* chase them! Duh.) until I saw his calves the other day.  Holy shizballs…he has some very nice legs.  So now we shall continue the dance of texting and chatting.  Except later, guess what I heard?  Hmmm? Yeah.  I heard he is a bum looking for a woman to take care of him.  Well, holy crap.  I’m good.  Had that; looking for something different.

And thus I remain happily single.  🙂