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Thursday, September 26, 2013

What are the chances I end up in a love triangle in Scottsdale?

The answer is 100%, because my life is ridiculous.

I mean, its not exactly a love triangle but it is a series of odd coincidences where the stars have aligned to once again make me look like a hot ass mess. I'm shocked.

So, I cut all of my low hanging fruit of men from my tree a couple weeks ago because I was tired of all of them and needed a fresh start. This fresh start was to be celebrated with a raucous weekend out in Old Town Scottsdale for no particular reason, but wait...let's back up a little.

Part 1

I became immediately bored of having no male attention in my life on last week Tuesday. I download Tinder, which is a "Hot or Not" type dating app that is very popular in Phoenix and has location based matching. No one can talk to you unless its a mutual match. I loved it immediately. I started chatting with a dude named Blondey, who is smart and cute and busy, just like me. We realize we can't figure out a time to get together until this week. We keep in touch but not like super actively.

Part 2

Friday night, I had drinks with Tiffany and our new best friend, Halle, who is Andrea's friend who just moved to Phoenix. After two drinks, I try to con Tiffany into going to Sand Bar, but she knows better (per last Friday night's 5am adventures). I go home and start Tindering because I'm 2 drinks in and exhausted from a long week-- aka recipes for flirtation disaster. I strike up a convo with this dude who's photos show him as a country music super star. I'm immediately interested in dating a Dierks Bentley looking cowboy fella. He invited me to watch him perform at a bar on Sunday after the Bears game. I consider this option because I like to feel famous and say "I'm with the Band".

Part 3

Tiffany and I decided to go out in Old Town on Saturday night and get extremely drunk because we had $50 in free Lyft credit to get home. The best. We start out at Whiskey Row where there are 2 for 1 Fireball shots. Rookie mistake. A few Fireballs later, I spy a very tall man in the bar. We all know men over 6'5 are like candy to me. I march over and announce we are genetically meant to be together because our children would be frickin' professional linebackers. I am so charming. 

So, I manage to exchange phone numbers with my fellow giant/life partner. Then we hop over to Martini Ranch and Tiffany tells the bouncer we're with the band, and he let's us skip the line and not pay cover. SEE IT WORKS. FAMOUS4LYFE.

Part 4

It is now Sunday and I am viciously hung over. Fireballs are a bad idea. Life is made better because I am texting with the Tall Guy while simultaneously eating hash browns and wanting to die. I am also getting Tinder messages from Country Singer, asking me and friend to come hang out. CLEARLY NO. I look like a dead hooker. I am never leaving bed....until 5pm when I was tempted with tacos at a Bears bar in Old Town. El Hefe is packed but they had food and $8 40 oz. Beergaritas so I immediately get over my hangover and switch the party mode flip. I become best friends with everyone except the Packers fans.

Tall Guy is across the street another bar in Old Town. He promises to come visit, my phone dies and I am drunk. Eventually he shows up and I hug him with such fury that I crush his $130 Raybans with my tits. Once again, so charming.

Tall Guy mentions that he was just across the street hanging out with his friend who performs there on Sunday nights after the football game. Ummm....uh oh.....

Why yes, Tall Guy and Country Singer are good buddies from college.

Part 5

I wander over to where Country Singer is on the bar, playing guitar and singing despite this excellent revelation I've just made at El Hefe. I act mega casual when he finally finishes his set and comes over to grab a hug from me. I immediately question him about Tall Guy. I am drunk. He is probably really confused. Whatever. Friends haul me out of the bar at 10pm before I make a really bad decision.

Part 6

Tall Guy and I hang out Monday night. I like him a lot. I inform Country Singer we should be bro's only. He's fine with this because he says Tall Guy is one of the most gentlemanly and great dudes on earth. I agree.

Part 7

Its Wednesday night and I finally made plans with that guy from part 1, Blondey, to grab a drink in between work/working out/tindering. We have some drinks, chat about college, etc. He mentions he was in a fraternity at ASU. Then he tells me its the same one Tall Guy is in, but they're a couple years apart in age...it can't be..what are the chances. Alarms are going off in my head.

When he adds me on Facebook, I notice Tall Guy is a mutual friend of ours. I ask him how he knows him. Tall Guy is Blondey's big brother in their fraternity. He also knows Tall Guy's friends, Country Singer. 

GOD DAMMIT.

Conclusion

I'm fucked.

So, in college there was this guy who dated my Grand Big Sister in the sorority when she was a freshman and I believe, he was a senior. When my Big Sister was a freshman, a year later, she dated the same guy, still a senior. And then I dated him, 6 years from the start of it all, when I was a junior in college, and he was still a senior. He tried to get to my Little Sister too, the next year, but we warned her to stay away.

He is a legend in our sorority for these actions. Now I am this man, except not a man, not in college and certainly in Scottsdale. These things only happen to me.

WHAT ARE THE CHANCES? 

I think someone is trying to teach me a lesson. Perhaps I will go back to the suggestion of dating one gentleman at a time is a swell idea. I can't even on my life anymore. 

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

A Tale of Eight Brandons

Summer Vacation is Over.

You may have noticed I have been on "summer vacation" since I ended my Quarter Life Crisis two months ago to the date. Many things have happened, including but not limited to:

1.) Making it through Weddingpocalypse 2013 without having a bridesmaid nervous breakdown.
2.) Sustaining a fairly serious foot injury that can only be contributed to too much twerking.
3.) Being in a 5 day Facebook relationship.
4.) Completing the convention I've been working on for a year.
5.) Meeting someone smart and awesome and cute and pretty special (just last night actually #smokeshow).

While I do plan to dedicate a week of blogs to all of the Wedding goodness I participated in during the past months, I needed to get back in the swing of things and update everyone with a very important service announcement:

Do not date Brandons. Don't do it. It never works out.

Perhaps my long time readers will remember where it all started with the Tale of Two Brandons blog post. Literally, to the date, I started my epic year of Brandons and I'm here to put an end to it. 

If you aren't familiar with the start of this story, I recommend you catch up right here.

And so it went. Two Brandons turned into three..and four..and here we are a year later...Brandon #8. Check out my phone contact list these days...my affinity for Brandons has turned into an insurmountable challenge now. Are they all bad Brandon apples? Is there a shining star out there still named Brandon?


Perhaps you are wondering why I do not run the other way when I meet a Brandon-- the truth is, I just can't accept than Brandon's are all ridiculous douchebags. So I jump right in, test the waters and yep, they're still douchey as ever. I really struggle to believe this name is cursed, but let's review this year's track record.

Brandon #1
Brandon #1 was the first guy I was really into after my Phoenix Ex. Unfortunately we could never get on the same page because he was flakey as hell. For three quarters of a year, he played games, asking me out, cancelling dates, see me here and there. I just couldn't quit him, until he quit me and met someone else "unexpectedly". I almost cared, but not really, because he really knew how to push my buttons. Read the original conflict here.

Brandon #2
I liked him. I really did. Until this. He did pop up with a new phone number several months ago, telling me how he tried to pursue a business idea I had shared with him while dating, and failed. Once again, asking for a third chance. Just no. NO NO NO NO.

Brandon #3
Ain't much to say about Brandon #3 besides he was a real dud. Read the story of how we met here

Brandon #4
Brandon #4 isn't actually my story. He belongs to my friend who met him on a popular online dating site that we both had profiles on. We had both thought he was a very cute dude (we often compared local men who appeared on the site for funsies). Lacie got into his good graces and they went out to lunch a few times. Because she's a creep, like me, she found his Instagram account, unknowingly to him, which was stocked with heaps of engagement photos, photos of his newly obtained MARRIAGE LICENSE, cutsie couple photos, etc. Just wow. Two weeks before he's getting married, he's dating chick online. STELLAR. 

He did get married. We saw it happen on Instagram. I tried to convince her we should wedding crash, but she's not nearly as much of a trouble maker as I am. Instead, she got wine drunk one night and message his new wife about his shenanigans--since he actively used his profile even days after his marriage. She read it. No reply. My friend also taunted him with knowing his secret. No reply. People are so not fun these days.

Brandon #5
Brandon #5 was the subject of my mad catfishing skillz. While Tiffany and I were enjoying a fabulous evening at Blue Martini, I met him and we had a photo with his friend. I recall none of this. Until I found the cute dude in my photo the next day and decidedly made him Brandon #5. The search was on.








AND HE WAS FOUND nearly 2.5 months later thanks to a whole lot of Facebook snooping. Man, I am a real creep sometimes. Nothing much came of it. #DudCity

Brandon #6
And then there was Brandon #6. This was the one who changed it all. We met on a Thuesday night while my Little, Rachel, was in town visiting and we were having an absolutely out of control evening (he's a bouncer at SandBar, my new favorite bar since Naked Selfie Guy became a bouncer at Blue Martini--- Side note: I clearly need to re-evaluate why I think dating bouncers at bars I frequent is a wise idea.) Anyways, things were hot and heavy within days. We were inseparable for a couple weeks, even lifting together in the gym (THAT'S A BIG DEAL, GUISE). Even a 5 day Facebook relationship. It was serious, guys, really. Until it wasn't, as he was needy and broke and probably a little too young for my taste. Then we broke up and all hell has broken loose since then. I still prance around SandBar flirting with all the men, twerking every chance I get, and him glaring distinctively in my direction. My bad. (I actually feel bad for getting in so deep and bailing suddenly with someone who is very sensitive and a little unstable anyways due to PTSD, but he was pretty mean after we broke up therefore I DO WHAT I WANT). 

Brandon #7
Met Brandon #7 just weeks after Brandon #6. I explained kindly why I no longer date Brandon's. He wanted the challenge to be the final Brando, but I knew he would just be Brandon #7. We went out once, had a good time, then his grandfather died and the Jewish holidays happened and he disappeared slowly but surely, closing yet another dating chapter and sealing his fate as just another Brandon. 

Brandon #8
And then there was Brandon #8. He isn't a douchebag. He's smart and funny and a person trainer. All thing I like. However, he is a Packers fan and that is a deal breaker. Brandon #8, re-assess your NFL alliances and we can talk.

The Bottom Line

Brandons are a bunch of bad apples. I'm done. Really. 

NO MORE BRANDONS. EVER.

Maybe like 3 more? Okay, but no. It must end.

I need help.