The plot thickens.
Gay Pride is sort of like Mardi Gras – you can run around half-naked or rock really obnoxious fashion and it’s somehow socially acceptable. My contribution to the hot messitude of Pride weekend is my douche bag haircut. Behold:
“A guy walked up to me last night randomly and said the following: “I don’t think I’d know what to do if I were a black guy in this city. I mean no one really wants to date you guys from what I’ve seen. I don’t even date black guys and I think of myself as a pretty liberal person. That’s gotta be tough cause you’re a pretty cute guy” *sigh. seriously? FML”
That is hilarious because it is true.
So it is officially hotter in Minneapolis than it is in Miami. Summer is here, the neighborhood looks lush, and my freshness is compromised.
I don’t know what my poor hairstylist was thinking when I came in with a picture of “The Situation” from Jersey Shore and said, “I WANT MY HAIR TO LOOK LIKE THAT!”
I might have been on four hours of sleep and chugging coffee, but I finished my coursework for the semester.
Law school is DONE. Hallelu!
I leave the tax law clinic and walk the dogs. The dogs and I into Mel on the walk. She is high again and has trouble with her apartment building door. She grunts and kicks the door before seeing me.
Mel: “You didn’t see that.”
Me: “Of course not.”
Mel : “I tripped. Stubbed my toe.”
Me: “I’m sure.”
Mel: “Can I pet your dogs?”
Me: “Uh sure.”
Mel : “They don’t bite do they? Cus if they do then I’m gonna sue you!”
Me: “Heh. Then no. Bad idea. Bye.”
Mel: “WHAT? Then why the FUCK do you have them around people? If they gon’ bite?!”
Me (walking off): “I didn’t say that they bite. But let’s not take any chances.”
Mel : “Fuck you! You have some nerve you know that?”
I keep walking down the street and she follows.
Mel: “LOOK AT ME! I’m sorry. Fuck.”
Me: “That’s okay. We’ll be on our way, mam.”
Mel keeps cursing at me. I then receive a phone call from prospective tenants who want to see an open apartment. I meet them at the building and realize that I don’t have my keys.
We walk around to the back of the building and I see that someone tried to break into the building lockbox last night. It was is so badly damaged that it will not open.
I am horrified. I am standing in front of the building, holding two peeing dogs in front of two prospective tenants that think I’m a moron.
I eventually get a neighbor to let me into the building and we walk upstairs to the apartment.
The apartment is vacant but contractors are still doing repairs. The contractors that work for my landlord are notoriously messy, so I had the pleasure of trying to explain why there is a smashed light bulb in the middle of the apartment’s dining room.
I am embarrassed, but slightly too exhausted to care.
My keys were in the laundry room door. Sigh. I need to go to bed.
My first post-law school night consisted of laundry, taco bell, and Celebrity Apprentice. This is the life.
This week? Work, snow, some epically bad dates, dog walks, drag shows and a lot of dancing:
Halvers and I went to the townhouse for classafrass earlier in the week:
And the snow quickly gave way to real spring temperatures. The lake was packed today.
Gateway no longer supports my FX laptop (or even acknowledges that the model exists). I can’t find any new drivers for it and it’s slowly dying. So I went to Mall of America on Saturday to hunt for a new computer. The mall usually has some random event on the weekends, and this week it was all about fancy cars:
Big Box had mostly low-end laptops ($300-$400) and the uber expensive Macs. The 17-inch Mac started at $2,500 – which wasn’t happening.
I then went to the Apple store to see if they had anything better but I was immediately turned off by the lack of customer service. The greeter was preoccupied with his watch and no one came to help me in the five minutes I was in the store. I quickly balked at the prices and fled across the hallway to the Microsoft store.
The salespeople at the Microsoft store were super patient with my 3o-minutes worth of questions. I eventually bought a HP Envy Beats edition, which is 17-inch beast with 3D capabilities and a professional sound card. It’s fancy, and I named it Herman.
My laptop only got used for homework this weekend because Ableton has to manually approve my license for the new laptop. It’s a German company, so you know they aren’t open for Easter.
Being productive isn’t the worst way to spend a Sunday. Maybe this can be a regular thing.
Minneapolis is consistently ranked as one of the gayest cities in the U.S. and yet I am perpetually single.
These types of guys are why:
This guy is over-enthusiastic to the brink of stalkerdom, “Hi! Nice to meet you. I love your eyes! We should totally get married. What’s your name again?”
He fills up your Facebook inbox but acts completely bored when you hang out.
Am I talking to your assistant online?
He’s in love, as long as you are in front of him.
This guy is completely enamored in-person but takes a week to respond to a Facebook or text message.
He might need to borrow the E-Baller’s secretary.
Your jealous boyfriend…who isn’t your boyfriend.
This is the guy who claims he wants friendship but what he really wants is Ken – the boyfriend without the sex.
The faux-friend wants to take you to the movies, the gym and the bar.
He might even text you and call to ask how your day was. But beware, the second you look at another guy, sirens turn on and he rings the alarm.
The faux-friend will not actually date you, but he is perfectly happy to cause unnecessary drama as he glares down his perceived competition at the bar like a hyena in heat.
Avoid at all costs.
The Poltergeist is similar to the Fair-Weather, but way more irritating.
This is the guy who disappears after an amazing date and then reincarnates as a ghost rapping at your online-door.
The poltergeist will “like” a Facebook update, or shoot a text once every few weeks along the lines of “Hey we should hang out!” only to disappear again… these guys are like reoccurring outbreaks of H1N1, and it’s time to be vaccinated.
Toast is the perfectly nice but utterly boring guy who always forces you to exchange pleasantries online. You have a brief conversation about your day (or the weather) that fizzles quickly. But don’t worry, you’ll have the same exact conversation a few days later.
Toast is way too shy to ask you out , and way too boring to be asked out…so you are stuck repeating these pointless conversations because there’s no polite way to say “Yo Toast, I don’t give a shit how you are doing today.”
This guy is like catching poison ivy. He will stalk you and message you on every dating site and app.
The Rash won’t go away until you go to Walgreen’s and buy some anti-itch creme.
Ignoring him is best tactic. Responding will only encourage him to make a fake profile just to keep bothering you. (Yes, this happens.)
And don’t worry about running into the Rash at the bar. Like the E-Baller, these guys have social anxiety problems and scurry like roaches when you glare at them in a social setting.
This is the sluttacious guy who is just waiting to share his love bumps. “Hi, how are you? My name is John. Want to be the guest star of my septic tank of desire?”
Um, no.
And don’t for the Vamp no matter how drunk and lonely you are.
This is the type of guy who sleeps his way through entire groups of friends and makes things awkward for everyone in the future.
He’s cute! You chatted him up on a dating site or at a bar, became Facebook friends, and promptly stopped talking to each other.
So of course you run into him all the time now.
He is at the grocery store, club, and the lake. You smile politely, wave, and continue ignoring each other.
And the weird thing about The Extra is that you would probably get along with him enough to become real-friends, and yet nothing ever happens.
It’s the almost-missed connection that keeps repeating itself.
As you can see, this is a very busy circus. Tickets available at Ticketmaster or at your local Pump’N’Munch gas station.
Apparently Gertrude can stay still for photos!
I fear for her life sometimes. She thinks that my new Aldo shoes are chew toys, and it’s not technically animal cruelty if you’re defending your manlettos.
We had happy hour at the Minneapolis Eagle and then went to an authentic Chinese buffet on Lake Street.
It was authentic because of the English fail on the sign.
