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.

batshit crazy for two

I met a man while traveling last month.

He owns a hotel in the Costa Rica Caribbean and after one night at his hotel, he practically begged me to stay another night so that he could take me out and have me with him for a few more hours. He was the one who checked my Aussie friend and I into a great room with an ocean view when we arrived.

Immediately, I could tell that he liked me. It wasn't very well hidden in his eyes or his frequent offers to bring things up to my room personally- extra towels, a bottle of wine, my shopping bags which were light enough to be held with one hand. There is a hotel manager and a maid- surely they could have been as helpful? But no. He was over the top.

It's why, when I was checking out after only a one night stay, he asked me to sit with him and shared his coke light with me. And begged. Pleaded for me not to leave that night. Asked what was more important than spending time with him?

We stayed. He took me out and introduced me to every single local we came in contact with. Some were rude to him and he brushed it off as jealousy- he had money and they didn't. I wasn't buying it, so I cornered one of the guys who was only just civil to my host. I asked him what was up and he confirmed that my guy was regarded as an outsider by many of the locals even though they have all known each other since childhood.

Hmmm.

Then, on the dance floor later that night, I guess I got too friendly with another man. We weren't even dancing close, but my host whooshed me out of there and to the next bar with a few harsh words for the other man on the way out. Jealousy already? Really? We only just met. At the next place, he was much more attentive to me-meaning he was never more than 3 feet away and kept asking me to adjust my top. I was wearing a lowcut shirt that highlighted a couple of my greatest assets and he saw other men looking my direction quite a lot.

The next morning, my Aussie friend and I left town, in a rush to the big airport in the city. I didn't expect to hear from my host again, but after a couple days back home, he called. Wanted to know how soon I could manage to come back. Spoke with me about being able to collect me from the city if I could spare just a couple days for him. I was noncommital.

Two days ago, he called again. This time, speaking about how he can't wait for his children to fall in love with the beach and with music as he did as a child. As of yet, he only has a dog. He spoke of his future children. Then, he offered a bold proposal.

He asked if I would go to the Phillipines with him to meet his adoptive family there. He admires and respects his parents and thinks I would adore them and they would love to have me.

Ummmmm... After knowing me for two days? Really?

But who am I to turn the other cheek just because an idea seems crazy?

Who's crazy now?

I am actively preparing for an apocalypse.

I believe that aliens have already invaded our planet and are planning a takeover. I would like them to know that I will work with them and will make peace with them if it means my life is spared. They're obviously going to be way smarter than us and win, so I'll switch teams ASAP. Sorry, humans.

I am also a firm believer that zombies will, at some point, become a reality. I am always aware of the nearest exit and the nearest zombie-defense weapon. Zombies can totally suckit.

There could be a major disaster- like a tsunami. Since I live practically ON the ocean, my roomies and I are planning to put a small watercraft on the roof and stock it with essential survival supplies. That way if we get even 90 seconds of notice, we can run upstairs to the roof, hop in the boat, and float on with the tsunami wave. Done and done.

I was just looking into getting an extra cabinet for non-perishable food supplies, as there could be some kind of breakdown in systems and we'll have to live on what is already in our houses. Right now, we only have enough canned goods for a couple of weeks. Definitely need that cabinet and more supplies. We have enough water for us AND our dogs already, which is essential.

And when one of these horrible events takes place, I'll be the one calling you crazy for not planning ahead.