Closer to Crazy, Farther from Happy...or is it the Reverse?

Update: I know better than to not leave the cliffhanger...so here's the story. Self torture was at its best on Friday night with Insecure Boy. Five cranberry vodkas and two drinking games later, Insecure Boy and I started....


...talking about sex. For two hours. But we never had any. Which means if you live on the West Coast, watch out. I'm still driving around town, horny as ever. And apparently not Clumsy enough to fall on top of his penis at the right angle or moment.

And to top it all off, I talked to HC today, for the first time in six months. He's moving back to my hometown and we're going to hang out before he moves home. And now I am starting to think, maybe I went about this the wrong way....or with the wrong guy!

Here's Chardonnay's birthday story:

I'm sitting at home. Moping. Just got off the phone with my dad and he was pissed. Could I have really told him it was my out-of-play vuh-j-j that caused the accident?

I need to be at Chardonnay's in 20 minutes if I am going to make it to her party. A cab all the way there is out of the question and it would take forever for a cab to go to Chard's. Feeugh.

I really want to go. I'm all dressed up. Screw it. I put on my coat. Take off my shoes. Put on some flip-flops. Grab my Hallmark card and walk out the door.

Yep. I mapquested that sum bitch and I walked to Chardonnay's apartment. I walked a mile and a half in 30 degree weather in flip-flops carrying my cute shoes.

I swear.

Chardonnay calls.

Chardonnay: Where are you?

Clumsy: (huffing, puffing) Um, I'll be there in five minutes.

Chardonnay: You in a cab?

Clumsy: (I am so embarrassed) What? Uh....I'll see you in five!

I get to Chardonnay's apartment and I am kind of tired. I just briskly walked a mile and a half after a car accident and had no dinner. I switch into my high heels and walk inside to the start of the party .

Chardonnay, Elle, and two others are already at the apartment. We make quick introductions. They pour me an adult beverage and ask what in the world I have protuding from my purse. I start laughing. It's my flip-flops. HAHAHA.

Chardonnay: You didn't?! You walked here? hahaha Hilarious! Were you trying to hide your shoes? hahaha.

Then they notice my bruised and scabbed knee. Shit. I forgot about that. I explain. I was at work and we don't have heat (nope, no heat), and I tripped over the space heater cord and skinned my knee. Then, later that night, I went to the gym. I was getting on the leg press, trying to be suave, when BANG! I freaking knocked my knee so hard I wanted to cry. But I was at the gym. There's no crying at the gym! A guy across from my machine asked if I was okay. Three weeks later, the bruise went away. Months later, I still don't use the leg press. It hurt!

We hop into a cab and head to a bar.

When we arrive, I'm already pretty buzzed, just from the excitement of the whole day. I start talking to a bunch of different people. So@24...remember meeting me? :)

I also meet So@24's friend Jack. More on this later when I describe the most awkward Clumsy dates ever!

I entertain everyone with my story about how I got into a car accident earlier in the evening because of the upcoming celebration of Baby Jesus's birth (aka I lied and only blamed the Christmas music even though it was the "I'm horny!" shout).

I bump into someone I went to high school with and hadn't seen in years! It's a small world.

I move out of the way for the waitress (the only person who did move out of the way) when she's trying to get through with a tray of drinks. She then spills a beer on me. I apologize and she starts screaming at me. Bouncers are summoned. This is what I get for being too nice and too accommodating! It ends up being fine. People shake hands.

Jack asks for my number and writes it in a match book.

Chardonnay, Elle, a dude, and I pile into a cab to go to an after party. We get dropped off in a residential area and there are no parties to be found. Not one. Empty streets with plenty of parking. Quiet as a mouse. It's 30 degrees. We can see our breaths in the air, I'm wearing a short dress, and my feet hurt (probably from the walk).

Finally, we find more people we know. Elle had called a cab as a back-up and I take it home to my safe and warm bed.

As I put my head on the pillow, I laugh.

I might be four grand in the hole (yes, four grand), but life is good. And so are the memories from the day I got in a horny accident.

Happy Belated Birthday, Chardonnay!