Tangents & The Times

As my avid readers may have… well, read… yesterday was my birthday and it was a grand birthday indeed.
There were a couple interesting things.
First, I haven’t received that many “happy birthdays” since I stopped having bounce houses at my parties. It was really nice and thanks to everyone that shouted my way about getting old. I appreciate it and even though I do have the time to thank you all individually, I’m not going to. But just know I’m sending you a <3 or two.
Secondly, for alllll the birthday wishes, none of them were from any of the dudes in my life.

One may assume this upset me but on the contrary, it is very invigorating.
Because there is only one thing to do in this situation.
YOU CUT THEM !
CUT THEM ALL !

The pseudo-ex you were basically just getting drunk & fooling around with for eight grueling months of relationship limbo that now, months after you finally decided it was all an epic waste of time and that he wasn’t nearly as intriguing as he was when you met him and he was talking about astrology at a bar, suddenly wants to spend quality time with you and is genuinely interested in your life and it’s kind of weird and humorous although you have no desire to ever travel back down that road… well, now you don’t even have to even entertain the thought of him showing up at your house at two am ever again ! The guy that’s been trying to get at you since he thought you were trying to get at him but really you were trying to get at this other dude and then you realize you guys have enough in common and he’s fun enough and you guys hang out and it’s cool but you’re not like singing on mountain tops because you’re just kinda ‘meh’ about all dudes right now but he’s cool… apparently, he’s not that cool ! Yes ! The guy that’s always hitting you up on Facebook… delete him ! The guy you were dating for a short period of time but that short period of time was fields of glittering baby daisies and sunshine beaming out of your vagina and ended with the weird I’m-technically-not-breaking-up-with-you-but-I-am-but-it’s-not-you-it’s-me(-but-it-probably-is-you-because-I’m-not-that-into-you-to-be-with-you)-and-I-still-care-and-we-are-going-be-kind-of-friends-sort-of-….who knows ? You can… well, yeah, that is kind of a bummer. But the guy who got your number in traffic that you TOLD it was your birthday the next day… well, he can write a missed connection now because that shit is saved under “do not pick up calls from unthoughtful dudes”. And every other dude that has been actively pursuing you, well their previous efforts are now futile and will prove fruitless. MUAHAHAHAHAAA !!!

I don’t make out with dudes who have cold sores and I don’t make out with dudes who don’t wish me happy birthday.
I also don’t make out with dudes who don’t eat the crusts of their pizzas (but would like to befriend them so I could eat their crustssesss yum) but that’s a tangent for another time…

The point being…
No prospects !
No back-burners !
My stove is cleared & my oven is empty !
& my kitchen is stocked for some major cooking muahahaha.
Which means I am ready for some serious man eating.

Or some Risotto.
That sounds delicious right now.

Although, I did get the best message ever yesterday (get ready for some serious ego-boosting to make up for all the ego-busting of fore mentioned ):
“Your wit, charm and dashing good looks eradicate disease. I don’t know anyone else with THAT on their resume.”
(SUCCESS !)

Unfortunately, that yin was yanged by the horror of my crazy ex-boyfriend @replying to me on Twitter when I didn’t even know I had yet another social networking website to block him on.
(FAIL.)

But… there may still be hope.
Tonight I am celebrating my birthday at Thief’s Apocalyptic Love event though so I guess there is a little room to make up for your unthoughtfulness in regards to my feelings/your prospective make out sesh with me. That would mean you coming to Proof Bar in Santa Ana and buying me a whiskey sour/soda/ginger (not all mixed that would be disgusting but whatever you choose to mix it with because that, as well as what whiskey you choose [I actually prefer a little bourbon called Maker's Mark, maybe you've heard of it] tell a lot about a person so you better choose wisely. And this ain’t ‘choose your own adventure’. This is ‘Marissa chooses your adventure’… BITCH… ahem…).

Alright. So, obviously, I’m going to see you tonight. Sweet. TTYL.