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Leggo My Eggo

Comfort. It’s all about self-comfort. And comfort for me equates to food. Comfort food.

I’m sitting here eating Eggo waffles. Yes, I had dinner–salmon to be precise. But that was just for the protein. That was just the preliminary step before breaking into the Eggo waffles in the freezer. Yummy blueberry Eggos. Designer brand. I can’t believe I considered opting for the generic waffles at Albertson’s to save $0.75. By the way, what’s up with the name change from Albertson’s back to Lucky’s? So aggravating. Why didn’t they just stick with Lucky’s to begin with.

This morning I headed to the Hard Knox Cafe on Third Street. Soul food at its finest. I’m talking catfish, grits, cornbread, oxtail. I had two over-easy eggs, three chubby pork loin sausages, two slices of wheat toast, half a plate of grits, two cornbread muffins, and a diet coke. Yeah, I love diet coke. I drink tea throughout the day at work, but diet coke is my weekend drink of choice.

I was stunned once when I went out for breakfast with Marc, I ordered a diet coke, and he screamed, “Catchy that’s so disgusting. Diet coke for breakfast!” The waitress looked away embarrassed. I looked at Marc and squinted my eyes with a look that screamed back, “Oh no you didn’t just say that!!!”

I have been in a bit of a funk lately. Maybe it’s the lack of therapy, but I’ve got to be able to do this on my own. Needless to say, I have spent the past couple weeks hanging out, drinking, and partying with every person who’ll come out and clink wine glasses with me. Cheers! Cheers to being middle-aged and single. I think I went through a mid-life crisis. Could that happen over the course of two weeks because I believe I’m A-OK now. At least I hope so. With all the social coordination, I haven’t had a chance to sit down and type out how depressed I was.

I’m dating a handful of guys. I don’t know why I signed up for eHarmony because I didn’t meet any of them through the site. What a waste. Plus, when I have gone out of my way to meet a few guys from eHarmony, it simply leads to disapointment. I don’t know why guys try to con you with pictures of themselves from a long time ago. I don’t want to be disappointed, alright? Try to be truthful not just with what you say, but how you look. What a drag. To meet for the first time and think…omigosh, he doesn’t look at all like his pictures. One of these days, I’m going to call them on it. I’m growing suspect of the whole online dating thing now. I have to give myself a pep talk prior to meeting someone. Also, there are a bunch of stalkers out there. Yes, I’ve been stalked. STALKED! Why is this a constant in my life?

One of my guy friends reprimanded, “You can’t figure out why guys stalk you? Look at yourself.” He pointed at me from neck to toe. “You dress like this. You dress half naked!”

I blinked my eyeliner-laden lids. “Uhhh, thanks dad. I’m wearing a strapless top and jeans. What the fuck are you talking about?”

Honestly, even if I wear a bikini to a bar, stalking is uncalled for. I so want to relay the stalking stories, but some of those loony-toons are avid blog readers. Damn google and that unique name of mine. The stalking seems to be a compounding problem. I went out last night and there was a guy who stared at me the whole fucking night. The whole night! Wouldn’t take his eyes off me. What a creep. What a turn-off. There’s a whole population of guys out there who are in dire need of REMEDIAL dating etiquette.

I need to start that business up. Dating 101. Put a curriculum together and start sessions.

Lesson #1: Do not stalk women in any way shape or form. Do not stare. Do not constantly send communications. No more than two communications ever. Period. Maximum of two, understand? If you don’t hear back, resist the urge. Silence is action! It shows that you have a life. It shows that you’re busy, you’re passionate about other things. It gives the impression that you’re not desperate. I personally can stand a guy calling twice. Three times and he’s cut off.

I can’t believe this is my life. Off to drink now.

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08.04.07

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Comments

  1. Gordon

    August 5, 2007 at 5:17 pm

    Hmm, the blueberry eggos are pretty good but I think I would have to say leggo my eggo if a cinnamon eggo were in dispute. 🙂

    Reply

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Welcome to my site, derived from an advice column I wrote while getting my MBA. I live in the San Francisco Bay Area. I give helpful, opinionated advice based on my own experience and from the expertise of my extensive network. For more, click here.

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