Back to Barney

I thought I left Barney in the Midwest.  Well, I DID leave Barney in the Midwest... I just thought I left my feelings for him there, too. 

Ok, ok, I know.  I denied those feelings up until the very end- THAT is why I thought I left them there.

Until last weekend. 

I went back for a weekend getaway and was in for the surprise of my life: He's sexier than I remember.  He's matured more since I left.  And the sex...the sex is ten times better than I remember. 

Oh, and he totally is in love with me.  He TOLD me! I didn't even have to beat it out of him!  It was quite possibly THE BEST moment of my life: I OFFICIALLY tamed the one and only Barney Stinson.  Unfortunately, there's not much we can do about it now... short of me moving back to the midwest.  Could I do that?

Can I give up this:

For great sex? AND A BABY?! 

Perhaps the fact that I'm even CONSIDERING this is the scary part. 

More Messages!

Seriously, hilarious messages come in on the daily.

 

 I asked this guy how many times he copied and pasted this message.

He claims I'm the first.

 

 I'm not sure why being hot makes this guy sad.

So sad, in fact that it brings his emojis to tears.

I also never tried to find out.

 

 

A gem from Marina:

He's definitely a smart cookie.

Speaking of smart cookies:

I replied with "my sexy what?" which, was a lot nicer than the first two answers I came up with.

Match Me Up, Matchmaker!

So, I think the hardest part of this whole online dating thing is reading through and responding to some of the most ridiculous emails I have ever received in my entire life.  Take a gander:

I realize this one isn't that bad.  However, "How are you" is normally a question, not a statement. 

And obviously this person is an idiot because I'm no where near a nice person.  

Firstly, DO NOT call me babygirl.  And what the fuck is a stank face? I would almost be offended, but that would require me caring.  (And I don't do that.)

And ladies and gentleman, my favorite:

Skin patches?  Really?  That's what you decided to go with?

At least he used the correct form of "you're" that earns him a point.  

But that point is not enough to warrant a response.  

And for the record, they're freckles, not skin patches.  

Hey, Girlfriend!

I realized this past weekend that I am no longer one of the guys.

I have a solid, amazing group of girlfriends.  Each one of them brings so many things to the table and I would not love every moment of my life if it weren't for them.  I have, for the first time in my life, gone two and a half full months of not even talking to a guy.  You know, the kind you just keep around for entertainment and attention, but you actually would never date... I haven't even had one of THOSE in two and a half months.

Instead I fill my time hanging out with the girls.  Going dancing.  Riding bikes around PB while barhopping.  Who knew having girlfriends could be so much fun?

That being said, there are still some things I have to get used to.  When you hang out with guys you don't really have to talk about feelings... or answer difficult questions like, "which of our friends do you like the best?" or "what did you guys talk about? Did they say anything about me?" This is all chartered territory for me, duders.

Anyway, two of these bitches somehow inadvertently talked me into joining a dating website.  They are both serial online daters (seriously, everyone is doing it.  I had NO idea!) and always have different stories to tell about the newest date.  So, I figured, why not? I want stories to tell!  I LOVE girl time! #thingsIneverthoughIwouldsay  And my dumbass goes and signs up for the one you have to pay for.  FUCK.  But at least we know I'm committed.

Stories to follow.

One Weekend at a Time

Editor's note: this is an email to an old co-worker giving her an idea of what my life has been like since I've moved to San Diego.  It seems fitting to share...in its entirety because I'm too lazy to edit it.)

I’m hoping not ALL of my weekends continue to go like this, but here’s an average look at a Thursday-Saturday for Karsen:

I met two of my ball kickin' friends at their house Thursday afternoon.  We made our drinks and reapplied make up.  Yes.  We wear make up to kick ball.  

Our drinks are adult Arnold Palmers… which basically means we mix sweet tea and lemonade vodka with a splash of soda water.  On ice.  We usually get to the park about 20-30 minutes before the game starts…and within 10 minutes the 40 or so jell-o shots we bring are gone.  And usually between the three of us because no one else gets there that early.  Needless to say, by the time the game starts we’re feeling pretty good.  After the game (during which we kept drinking) we all head to the bar to share a couple of pitchers. And then we go to another bar to get more pitchers. And the best part is, we’re home by 11 and I still get a solid nights’ rest. 

Friday I wasn’t going to do anything.  That was my plan.  And then I got bored. 

So, Sofia and I went to Tall Seth Rogan's house to do a “tour of OB” with him. Which basically just is a fancy way of saying we’re going bar hopping. 

We get to their house and Jimbo makes us his Jimbo lattes.  (Coffee, creamer, vodka, Kahlua.) Mine had a splash of coffee in it.  I was buzzing hard after the first one.  And then we made a second one to go.  (Jimbo didn’t go to the bar with us.  Tall Seth Rogan's friend Adam came instead) By the time we got to the first bar… I was drinking water.  And seeing double.  Luckily we were only at that bar for about 20 minutes…and by the time we got to the second bar, I was ready to go again.  So I bought my first drink… and every drink after that Seth bought… J heh.

My friends Steve and Oz came and met us out…and I don’t remember much after that.  I do remember playing pool at the last bar with Seth… and at one point in time he said to Sofia “What do I have to do to get her to come home with me?”  And I know this happened because not only was Seth SUPER loud when he asked her… but she was standing right next to me.  He was maybe four feet away from me.  Screaming this question at her.  I just started laughing and walked away.  (Oh, and she told him that I was going home with her because she wasn’t staying with Jimbo.  Heh)

We got back to Sofia’s at about 4am.  The last time I remember looking at the clock it was 4:30.  I woke up at 7:30 to go home, got there by 8, and was asleep by 8:10.  And up by 9:15 and at the casino by 10.  (This is my life every Saturday, btw) Luckily, grams wasn’t feeling well, so we left the casino by 2 and I got to lounge around for a few hours before going out again.

Charlii and I met Sofia at her house at 8.  Before hopping in a taxi an hour later I had:

1 – vodka tonic

2 – adult Arnold palmers

1 – shot of Jameson

We get to the bar that we’re going dancing at and head down to the basement where the dj is.  There’s a raised platform near the back and the security guard that’s standing up there pulls us up there with him.  Naturally, we took it over.  I gave Sofia money and she got both of us drinks… that was all I paid for all night long.  There were these Navy boys next to us and they LOVED us.  They kept buying us rounds and shots… Things I vaguely remember:

1.       Being a “pole” and having all the guys dance on me.

2.       Getting a lap dance from said boys.

3.       Standing on the speakers and dancing

4.       Drawing on the bathroom stalls (they were chalkboards! Best idea ever!)

There are so many pictures that I DON’T remember taking. …and the sad thing is they were all taken early in the night because my hair was still down, and I never last more than a couple of hours with it down. 

I spent all day yesterday recovering.  And I feel like I’m still in recovery mode today.  BLEH.

But hopefully it kept you entertained! 

Kickin' Balls

I joined a motha fuckin kickball team, bitches!! (I said that like a drag queen in my head.)
These people have pretty much consumed my life since we've been thrown together... and soon I'll throw together some of the stories.

But first:
I went to a wet underwear contest at a gay bar last night.  (Hence the queen voice in the first place.)

I watched a fellow ball kicker hook up with a legit butter face...in the women's bathroom of the gay bar.  (We also applauded them as they walked back up to the table.)

• Funny side story: after receiving their praise, she said, "whatever we were thinking was a bad idea.  That was a bad idea." She then looked at him and said, "I'm sorry." He put his arm over her shoulder and said, "it's ok."  WHAT could have happened to warrant a "sorry" on her end?!

Bathroom Boner was supposed to do the contest as well, but ultimately chickened out and then ducked out when we were getting food.  (Dick head.) Sofia and I stayed.  And boy am I happy we did.


Not only did I get to see an extremely intoxicated gay grandfather get into the shower and dance around all hot and bothered while eye fucking his boyfriend across the room... I got to watch an angry MMA fighter cup and gyrate his dripping balls (luckily still covered...the grandpa almost let his shit out) and a dorky country boy do the splits.  THRICE.

And then, I got to watch the sexiest STRAIGHT man I have ever seen in my life get up there and shake his wet, mostly naked thang on the stage.

HOLY.  HELL.

I also got asked the most terrifying would you rather question of my entire life:
Would you rather watch your parents have sex everyday for a year
or
Join in on them just once to make it stop.

Don't Hate... Medicate!

Deliman is married.  I mean, we're not COMPLETELY sure that he's married... but it's the only logical thing that makes sense (up to and including her coming home from deployment, moving in with him to the point where he had her FULL HEAD O' HAIR hanging inside his closet.) I haven't heard from him since I told him I wouldn't have sex with him... so then I had to start getting creative...and stop smoking so many sandwiches. 

Duff was stop one.  (I moved him to the absolute bottom of the go-to list after that time.)

I revisited Brazil for the second pick up, and luckily, Broham McGee was down here the third time and we picked up together from a guy he and Brosef sold to when I first moved to Sandy Eggo.

Then I met the Giant Seth Rogan.  (Skinny Seth... but with the jew fro and facial hair of fat Seth.)
I thought I had stumbled across something good here... Sofia has a long running night time relationship with his roommate and we all could go out together.  And then he asked me to hang out with him once alone, and he hasn't returned my texts since.  I fell asleep on his bed, and the only (semi) logical explanation I can come up with was that I was farting or talking in my sleep.  Though, I guess it's possible I did both. 

So in a moment of complete and utter frustration, when I was so tired of having my hook ups disappear (and they're dying off like fruit flies lately) I decided to start doing research about getting legal.  You know what I found out? I'm fucking retarded for not doing it earlier. 

I went Tuesday after work.  I spent 30 minutes trying to find the place (Siri was so confused!), filled out paperwork for three minutes, sat around for seven minutes, talked to a doctor for five minutes, and left completely legal.  It took me less time to get legal than it took for me to find the place...and it was all done within the first hour of getting off work. 

And as a little reminder that some things will never change: the first time I went to the dispensary...I got hit on.