I have issues with the weather.
I know I’ve said that it’s cold here in pretty much every comment I’ve made in the past few days. Because it is. And actually, I think Dr. Evil stated it best when he said “It’s frickin’ freezing in here, Mr. Bigglesworth.” Because it is. We’re in the negative numbers as far as temperatures (not even factoring in wind chill), plus it snowed. Yes, I realize that it’s Colorado and that it snows here. But when it snows, generally the next day it’s in the 40s and the snow melts and we’re done with crappy roads. This sub-zero temperature thing hardly ever happens and so that’s why I feel like I must complain at every possible turn. So there. Complaint: noted. You realize that I'm old, and therefore I am now required to talk about the weather at great length. Expect a manifesto detailing my physical ailments and the subsequent dealings with the insurance companies in the near future. Just kidding. You young whippersnappers have no sense of humor.
To be filed under the heading “dirty old men."
I would like to add to said list the name of one of the university presidents here. You see, we had a board meeting the other day, (which means I wore something other than jeans to work) and so I was dressed nicely and had on makeup and my hair was done. I was wearing a black turtleneck sweater, a black and white skirt, and black knee high boots. I introduced myself to the president, and he shook my hand, at which point, he took a totally obvious gander at my, um, chest. I was like “ew”, but that’s not the FIRST time that’s happened, so whatever. I walked him to the board room, at which point he shook my hand again, this time looking me up and down, eyes finally resting at my chest – AGAIN – at which point I usually would have ducked my head and been like “Uh, hi. My eyes? ARE UP HERE.” However, since he is much higher up on the food chain than I am, I restrained myself. Hey, if you’re hot and you’re checking me out, fine. But lecherous old dudes need not apply.
The last word -- in real life. Insert evil laugh here.
I was minding my own business at home last night when my cell phone rang. It was a number I didn’t recognize, but I answered it anyway. I should really learn not to do that. It was History Boy(who, as you might remember, apparently has a horrible allergy to phones). WTF? Here is what he said, with my imagined smart ass comments included:
“I know we haven’t talked in a long time and that’s my fault.” Really? You’re so smart. It’s no wonder you’re a lawyer.
“I don’t really have an excuse.” That is very true, because to dust off a phrase from high school ‘there’s no excuse for you.’ Ass.
Now, this went on for a couple of minutes – him nervously babbling and making jokes, me sitting there in total silence, secretly REALLY ENJOYING his discomfort. Finally he’s like “I’m going down in flames here, aren’t I.” And I said “Yep.” He then said “well, I wanted to call you before too much time had passed.” To which I replied “You’re a little late then – because too much time has passed.” I went on to tell him that I really had nothing to say to him. Which of course meant that I had plenty to say to him, it just wasn't altogether nice and I was going to thoroughly enjoy saying it. I said that the last time we talked I had told him that if we were going to have any sort of relationship at all, it would require, oh, I don’t know, us actually TALKING. He agreed wholeheartedly and that was the last time I heard from him. He then gave me the tired excuse of “well, I had a lot of things I was still dealing with – the divorce and the psycho girl I dated after” and I’m like “I know all that and would have been totally fine with us not talking or seeing each other if you had just let me know instead of just suddenly disappearing.” Of course, he agreed, but really, what could he have said. I then told him that I tolerate a lot in people, but rudeness is not one of those things. And that the way he behaved was rude. Again, nothing to rebut that. Because I was ON FIRE. So finally he’s like “I don’t mean to be obtuse here, but does this mean we’re not talking?” And I said “It pretty much does. For me to talk to you again would require a hell of a lot of effort on your part, so you just need to decide if that’s what you want to do. Because I already made my effort with you, so I’m done with that.” I’m certain I’ll never hear from him again, but boy did that feel good. It reminds me of that scene in “Friends” when Ross and Rachel are fighting and she tells him she doesn’t want to see him anymore and he pretends to cry for a second and then goes “FINE BY ME.” So yeah. Not talking to History Boy ever again? BoohoohooFINE BY ME.
Anyway, that's the news for now. I'm sure I'll think up some more equally fascinating material again real soon...