This is off to a great start

I met this guy at a friend's wedding recently and we got along great. He made me laugh. He asked me to dinner the next week. Cool!

We had dinner, he KILLED me with laughter. I seriously had to stop laughing at one point because I was about to pee myself and that just wouldn't be ladylike.

He travels for work a lot and told me he was going on a trip to Lake Tahoe this week. Poor fella was sick with the flu over the weekend, so I sent him a text on my way home from work last night. And so began one of the strangest text conversations I've ever had.

Tabbie: Hope you're feeling better & enjoying your "work", funny man.

Him: Air is thin

(Tahoe is up in the mountains. Okayyy...?)

Tabbie: Yeah. Go to an oxygen bar. It makes a world of difference especially if you're drinking.

Him: My job promotes drinking yeah

Tabbie: Dude then take my advice & go breathe pure oxygen so u don't do a crappy job of drinking for work!

Him: Heart beats harder

(WTF)

Tabbie: That could just be all the excitement

Him: I like it warm

Tabbie: What?

Him: Altitude

Tabbie: U like warm altitude?

Him: I like it warm

Tabbie: Well, this is an odd conversation.

Him: Its the drinking abd altitude

Tabbie: Whoa drunk by 7. Good work!

Him: Good time

(so I thought that was the end, but at 12:54 am...)

Him: Oh

(so strange... right? I sent this one back at 5 this morning)

Tabbie: Random Oh in the night? Hmmm

(then at just past 7am)

Him: Pain

Tabbie: Drink some water take an aspirin and go back to sleep

Him: The best hangover remedy is sex

Tabbie: So have sex. Duh.

Him: Ya there are no soft women here, my profession still has a lot of males

Tabbie: Bummer. Maybe u should try to handle it urself

Him: I know. It is happy right now

Him: Say something dirty

Tabbie: R u still drunk?

Him: Yep

Him: Dirty birdy

Tabbie: Ah. That explains a lot. OMG.

Him: Sex is a good thingy

Tabbie: Ummmm yeah

Him: I think sex with you would be a good thingy, you look soft

Him: It would

Tabbie: Wow. U may want to consider sleeping this one off. Not that I disagree about sex with me being a good thingy.

Him: Sweet, I'm trying to but need to handle myself first

Tabbie: good luck

Him: Nice

(and several minutes later)

Him: Pain

Tabbie: You're repeating yourself, drunky.

Him: No, I was coming full circle

Tabbie: Oh

Him: Ya

He's joining me for a friend's birthday party on Friday night. I wonder if he's crazy or just REALLY REALLY wasted. Miss M, please give me a breakdown of what you think of him? Of course, he may get REALLY REALLY wasted at your party too and then we may never know.

G.D.

I met a 9 year old girl at my friend's birthday party last night. She told me her name was Trinity and I said - wow! You know trinity is 3 and what's 3 times 3? Nine, she told me. That's your age- how cool. This is your year to shine, Trinity. Her face lit up and she clapped her hands together, forgetting the helium-filled balloon she was holding.

Her face dropped. It hit the ceiling and the ribbon was out of reach. I said Trinity, if you were a giraffe, you could just reach up and grab that down. Since you're not, how are you going to get it?

She asked me if I'm a teacher and I said no- but I'm a tutor. While she looked around for resources to make her taller, she told me her friend Haley has a tutor.

And it hit me. I'm good with kids. I love to see them learn and discover and explore and find excitement in the whole process. And that's why I'm incredibly upset. Not that I have this passion, but that my student- the one I've been tutoring for over 2 years now is even more at risk than when I started with her in kindergarden.

I volunteer for an organization that provides tutors for homeless kids. My student's dad is a drug addict. Her mom was living in a womens recovery shelter. Fresh out of jail for drug charges, she wanted to get her life on a better track. Throughout the past couple of years, I've seen my student's mom go from having nothing to working full time, taking college courses, and moving into her own apartment.

Along the way, my student has relaxed. She concentrates on her work and became the top student in her first grade class. Seeing these two thrive was incredible. But then. Then my student's mom stopped returning my calls for tutoring appointments and the ones she did show up for were cut short because she was late. And she lost oh, about 30 pounds in just over a month.

While I recognized these signs as looming disaster, I couldn't say a word about it. Part of my agreement with the tutoring organization is that I don't ask questions about the family's situation. We don't speak about it unless they bring it up. Now it's been 5 weeks since I've seen them. This girl means so much to me. Her future is in such a fragile place. I want to be there for her. To tell her a million times that she can do whatever she puts her mind to. That there is a world out there that is ready to reward her for her hard work and talents.

But I'm bound to shut the fuck up and see if her mom will take the time to meet with me.

I'm a rule-follower, but screw that. I can't sit back and watch failure when I know I can help.

Strangers and Hugs

Last night, I hugged a homeless crack head on the sidewalk in Oakland late at night.

I had been drinking a tiny bit inside the bar with a couple of friends when I needed some fresh air (I lie. I was smoking. Wasted drunk and smoking to be very clear.), so I stepped outside and the bouncer followed me.

This homeless dude came up to me and asked if I could spare any money. I was like- all I have is this iPhone, this cigarette, and this lighter. But then I checked my pocket and had TWO DOLLARS! I passed it over to the man and wished him a good night.

The bouncer who was guarding me shook his head. He asked where I'm from. Obviously not a local, huh? I was being a bit too sweet to the crackhead homeless dudes for his taste.

To make his job of guarding me more difficult, another homeless crackhead came over and asked me for money. (Oakland is kind of ghetto in most areas, by the way) I told this new guy that I had just given ALL of my TWO DOLLARS away to the last guy. But then I said- you know what?

I'll give you a hug instead of money. Every homeless crackhead needs a hug, you know? So I shocked the living hell out of this fellow and hugged and told him I hope he gets better and that he finds a meal tonight. And he asked me if he could finish my cigarette. I handed it to him and went inside with Mr. Bouncer.

He came over to where I sat down with my friends and told me I need to be careful- that these guys have scabies. I didn't notice any scabies on my crackhead friend, but I did appreciate the bouncer's concern, so I asked him if I should go to the hospital. He didn't think I'd need to do that, but recommended that I don't hug any more of these guys.

It's not like I go around hugging ALL of the homeless crackheads in the Bay Area. I mostly just high five them. Duh.

Empty Wishes

I wish to have a filter that would force me to say NO to staying out all night to party until the sun comes up.

I wish to be more organized and remember deadlines and act on them accordingly.

I wish to be able to eat delicious Mexican food and pasta daily and have a slim, athletic figure without exercising.

I wish to dedicate time to doing laundry before I end up with only ridiculous looking outfits to wear.

I wish to have a job that pays well, is geographically desirable, and has incredibly generous benefits.

I wish to have my essays write themselves.

Learning from mistakes: I'm doing it rong.

SOME people make a mistake, feel stupid, and try not to repeat it. Me? I happily do the opposite. I've been reminiscing and telling stories about the stupid things I've done all weekend and it's just so- um- sad yet funny. I live a full life without worrying too much about where I'll end up. Consequences be damned.

I mean- my dating stories alone could fill 600 hilariously painful pages. I love laughing at myself.

I also love feeling the fiery passion and adrenaline that comes with jumping into major life decisions with both feet.

The feeling that I get when I'm on the verge of a possibly very fun but risky adventure... Haaaaaaa. Can't wait.

Fun game

I've been doing this for several days now.

Step 1: lose all of your phone data
Step 2: respond to text messages as if you know who is sending them
Step 3: guess who the person is and make plans to meet them- text only! No phone calls to see if you guessed right.
Step 4: show up at your meeting spot and see if you guessed right

someday, I'll need to re- enter my phone data.

Stoopid week

My week started off badly. Sunday night/Monday morning will go down in the history books of Tabbie for all time as one of the top 10 strangest experiences of my life.

Drinking turns some people into completely psychotic dick noses. I'm not going to go into details here because it's too much to put into writing. Maybe someday when we're sharing our 3rd bottle of champagne (or cap classique) of the night, I'll tell you the story. By then, it will be light-hearted and I'll toss in all of the things that make me giggle about it. I'll leave out the parts where I was afraid for my safety and the part where I thought a friend of mine was for sure about to produce a monstrous amount of puke and/or get arrested in Nevada.

After that night, my week got worse. The drunky drunk friend let some information slip that shouldn't have gotten out. Another friend of mine got her feelings hurt. I hate to see my friends hurting.

HATE it.

But there was really not much I could do about this. So I just sent out a warning signal to the other people involved in the mess that there was, in fact, a mess. And I backed off.

Now, I'm not sure where to turn next. It's like my ability to process friendship information is broken. I love every one of the people involved in this icky mess, but they don't love each other.

People I love are being mean to each other. I HATE this.

Also, there's no goddamned clock on this computer screen. It's some kind of bullshit when I can't even use a computer screen to tell the goddammned time. Fuck you, screen.

Wait. It's not the screen's fault that I'm pissed. Still, I hate this stoopid, worthless screen.