Gypsy Mom Goes Out on the Town

Well happy good Monday to ya!

Dang... I tried.

Crappy Monday.

Grrr...

(shake it off)

Oook, so the weekend went all to fast, as usual. It was jammed packed with drama and pre-St. Pattys Day mayhem.

Wouldn't be me with out it, eh?

Friday night my best friend was taking pity on me by inviting me over for chinese and wine.

Then part 3 of our "core" trio got canned and we were a sad bunch of saps drowing our day in cheap wine and chinese food.

It doesn't sound much different than most of our get-togethers, just with a double helping of boo-hoo's and why-me's.

So Saturday I spent the whole ever-loving day moving what I thought would be the rest of my furniture from Ex-Guy's house.

That. Blew.

My poor Step-dad and his having to move me every-other-month.

I need to buy him something.

For real.

Anyhoo, 5 hours later we smashed ALMOST everything I own into a 10x15 storage locker and called it a day.

First off, let me tell you - if there is an award that exists for super-fantastic-storage-reorganization, then you can all just back out of the running right now.

I would rule.

Second of all, there is something really fantastic or really pathetic about being able to jam your life into that kind of space.

Whichever it is - I'm there.

Oh, and the other really great thing : nothing like looking at boxes full of your crap that someone looked at, took inventory of, then flung into a bunch of copy paper boxes.

Good times, good times.

AND Ex-Guy tried to pawn all the "relationship" stuff on me - you know, the pictures, trip scrapbooks ...blah, blah, blah.

Nuh-uh skipper - that's yer boat.

Sail on.

So with a cloudy head and a gluteous-majorly-maximus full of impending muscle spasms, we got pretty much everything out of that place.

Please-oh-please-jumpin-jebus-I-hope-so.

And, since nothing says "hey you should go drink like a fish", like being expelled from your house and living with your parents at *ahem* 31 - best friend (again) asked me over for dinner (and cooked, yehaw!), and we headed out for our friends bday.

Stop #1 - good times (which may or may not have included gravy fries).

Stop #2 - bad, bad idea.

While walking in the door at Stop #2 I get greeted with "he's here!".

*blank stare*

"HE'S here"

Well ain't that the friggin bees knees.

Shiz.

Well being the sophisticated female that I am, I suck it up, laugh it off and apparently chased off he and all of his cohorts with my presence alone.

Ah, nothing makes a girl feel better than clearing the place.

There might've been a bought of crying in a ladies room.

And there might have been a girl I know.... or resemble..... or am... that might have blabbered on excessively about what an ass-face Ex-Guy is.

Maybe.

Not one of my finer moments, but at least it was to my closest friends who will only bring it up once my emotional scars and the guilty twinges wear off.

*sigh*

With this, I decided to NOT go out and hang with my friends for post-pre-St. Patty's Day- celebratons on Sunday and painted things at the new house instead.

And there might have been a girl I know.... or resemble..... or am... that might have blabbered on excessively about what an ass-face Ex-Guy is.

But at least it was to myself and at least I will forgive me when the paint fumes and guilty twinges wear off.

*sigh*

Side note : To that person that oh-so-kindly pointed me to Ex-Guy's Facebook page which spouted "Ex-Guy is tired of cleaning his house, especially since HE didn't cause the mess", thanks but no thanks.