Hell Comes in Threes and Who In Hell are You (conclusion)

My god. I've been neglecting the conclusion of date #1 and there's already been a date #2. That, and more chaos of life has been visited upon me.

(conclusion) Hmm...just how much detail do I want to go into here? There isn't much left to tell of date #1. I really like Van's sheets. They have spirals all over them - just like my tatoo! However disappointing the foreplay may have been, the sex wasn't bad for first-time-sex. He "went down" which may have been the first time for me that a man has ever "gone there" on the first date. I, however, did not "go there". Out of respect, I won't go into any dimensions of any body parts. That's just wrong. I'd be really pissed and embarassed if I found out that some guy posted my chest size online. Let it be known that in my world, posting Neko's chest size online fully warrants a smashed windshield.

The next morning, I had to get up early for my weekly yoga class. So, that means Van had to get out of bed and drive me home. Well, he wasn't too happy about that one. I tried to hint that maybe I should stick around a little while or that we should do breakfast. He wasn't having it. On the way home, he turned up his radio and didn't say a word to me! Gasp! Can you imagine the anxiety I felt?

Morning After: 1 strike

I was about to chalk the whole date up in the "failure" column, but at the last minute, everything was saved; my pride, my ego, my vanity, my anxiety. I told him he had my number if he was interested in seeing me again and right away he asked, "How about next weekend?" Yes! That's got to be record response time.

End date 1. Look for date 2 coming soon.

Hell Comes In Threes:

Last week, my father got a new job. Now this doesn't seem like it should throw a big wrench in my flow, but my transportation situation was immediately all jacked up. For quite a while now, I've had "daddy's car", which is a fairly sweet Nissan Pathfinder. Daddy was driving a company provided vehicle. Naturally, with his new employer there came no new vehicle. And so, my sweet ride was suddenly yanked and I was left by the roadside, staring at my own vehicle - unregistered, uninsured and expired tags.

When the ex and I split, he had the truck to himself for about a week. When we were married, I hardly ever drove and he and his no-job-havin' ass ran that poor truck into the ground. Oh, yeah and then there were the 3 "emergency" cross-country trips. During one of which, several of the accesories went missing. Never lend your car to a junkie. For that matter, you sure as hell should never marry one!! Panels were missing, parts were punched out, and a whole lot of "what the fuck happened here?"

Well, what I was getting at with that last paragraph is that my truck held a whole lot of evil spirits and bad mojo for me. That's why I'd been procrastinating for so long before getting it on the road. Besides, I'd become accustomed to piloting a jet-black, automatic, cushy ship with a decent sound system and a CD player.

All at once, I had to pony up the cash and make the junkie truck legal. So, I took 5 hours off from work, drove half way across town to buy insurance, drive back, go for an emissions test, go to get my title changed (I was awarded the truck in the divorce), get it registered and finally, get new stickers. Whew. As if that wasn't enough, I got lost and was 2 hours late picking up my dad from his office. Then, I missed my therapist appointment. Trust me, I need it.

With all that out of the way, I thought I might be able to chill this week. Not so...

On Friday, I went and bought myself a new cell phone (did you get my text Shen?). Well, like an ass, I left my I.D. at the cell phone kiosk in the mall. I remember reminding myself over and over not to forget my I.D. Over the weekend, I was going crazy trying to locate it (more details on this later). Yesterday, I went to pick up my spankin' new phone and I asked the guys if they'd seen it around. Good news: they had. Bad news: they put it in the mail! Having my I.D. mailed back to me wouldn't be so bad, except that I have lived in about 4 different places since the address that's listed on my Texas I.D. Well, good-bye to that. I knew sooner or later I'd have to replace it anyway. At least I'm not still pulling my hair out over where it could be.

So this week's running-around-like-a-chicken-with-no-head task is to get my birth certificate from the county, go to the DMV and try to get a license issued. If all goes well, I can take care of this before the weekend. Do you know how humiliating it is asking Daddy to buy cigarettes for me?