<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:45:19.957-07:00</updated><category term='New Year New Experiences'/><category term='Beginnings'/><category term='Competition'/><category term='Fuck This'/><category term='Roommates'/><category term='Cunnilingus is for Super Stars'/><category term='Professor'/><category term='My friends will someday be famous'/><category term='Don&apos;t call me baby'/><category term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><category term='Feelings Are So Overrated'/><category term='Save the generation'/><category term='Co-worker'/><category term='Getting It On'/><category term='Attached'/><category term='Drunky'/><category term='Untouchable Face'/><category term='Boys'/><category term='Comic'/><category term='Texting'/><category term='Don&apos;t try rehab have a drink'/><title type='text'>Famously Single</title><subtitle type='html'>While everyone else is getting committed, getting married, having babies...I remain Famously Single</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>34</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-2191339584984317977</id><published>2009-01-27T19:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T19:27:56.151-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Save the generation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year New Experiences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><title type='text'>Why you should get a tattoo</title><content type='html'>I have two tattoos...both you wouldn't be able to see if I had my bathing suit bottoms on.  He Who Shall Not Be Named had a tattoo sleeve, and other tattoos.  Comic...tattoos.  I can only recall one person I've had sex with who didn't have any tattoos AND was good in bed.  There's something about having tattoos and being uninhibited and willing to try things and not caring so much what people think about them that make tattoo men amazing in bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now when I meet people one of the first things I ask is do you have a tattoo?  This is just my experience.  It is not a scientific study, although I could probably say 8 out of 10 who have tattoos are good in bed.  What do you think about this?  Do you have any tattoos?  If so, what do you have?  If not, why don't you have any?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-2191339584984317977?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2191339584984317977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=2191339584984317977' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/2191339584984317977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/2191339584984317977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/why-you-should-get-tattoo.html' title='Why you should get a tattoo'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-1020977866227831664</id><published>2009-01-25T19:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T19:45:02.631-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>No more pondering</title><content type='html'>Exactly the next day after wondering why my friend Comic didn't tell me what was going on with him and his ex, he opened up about the situation.  He told me he was really pissed off by everything that was going on and that's why he didn't care to share.  Basically, the ex is being an idiot and only wants to be with Comic when it's convenient for her.  And she went from calling him all the time, to not really putting in any effort.  Of course I didn't bring up the picture or the phone call with his sister. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so weird with him.  Girls like to analyze EVERYTHING, but with him, just when I start to analyze, everything is cool.  I think I'm going to visit him sometime this week too.  I have fun with him.  And I'm trying to figure out if I have a thing for him or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slopmaster, I have no idea how to make it so word verification is turned off.  I think it's super annoying too, but I don't know how to change it!  Stay tuned for tomorrow where we discuss tattoos and why people who have them are better in bed...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-1020977866227831664?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1020977866227831664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=1020977866227831664' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/1020977866227831664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/1020977866227831664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/no-more-pondering.html' title='No more pondering'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-8630823932786118031</id><published>2009-01-22T15:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T16:01:13.421-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comic'/><title type='text'>Something to ponder</title><content type='html'>My Google Reader is giving me a headache.  There is over 300 things and I can not just click all as read.  I need to get on this soon.  There's a reason I have so much to read, because I was visiting my friend Comic and something strange happened.  Comic if you remember is my ex-friends, ex-boyfriend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first got to his house, he wasn't home yet.  I let myself into his house and looked for his new Mac Book.  When I went into his room, I saw a picture by his bed of him and my old friend, his now ex-girlfriend.  I know they have been talking and seeing one another, and I don't care, except for the fact that I don't think she's a very good girlfriend to him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it came time to go to bed, the picture was gone.  I wanted to say something, but decided against it because I didn't want to seem nosy.  Then, the next day, she kept calling and he didn't pick up.  His sister called and he was talking to her and she asked about the ex and he lowered the volume down on the phone so I couldn't hear what she was asking.  And then he answered very vaguely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to my friend who says I should say something, because even though we had sex, this doesn't complicate things on my end.  If he gets back together with her, I just hope we can stay friends.  He should have been able to just pick up the phone when she called or leave the picture up.  What do you think?  Should I say something and let him know that I am ok with this?  We talk about us being with other people.  I mean this guy is like my best friend.  I want to be a part of his entire life and I care about what happens with him and the ex no matter what way it turns out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-8630823932786118031?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/8630823932786118031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=8630823932786118031' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/8630823932786118031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/8630823932786118031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/something-to-ponder.html' title='Something to ponder'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-7973558268938869359</id><published>2009-01-18T14:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T14:41:04.560-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Don&apos;t try rehab have a drink'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Getting It On'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year New Experiences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Competition'/><title type='text'>First Sex of the New Year</title><content type='html'>Alright it happened.  I have finally been de-virginized in 2009...I just wish I could remember.  It started with my co-worker/bff cooking dinner and watching American Idol.  We also killed a large bottle of wine.  I was not planning on going out.  After the wine, I realized I would need to stay at her house for awhile until I could drive home.  I wasn't drunk, but maybe the wine hadn't caught up to me yet, because all of a sudden I was drunk and we were heading to a bar.  Low and behold...Competition is there.  Apparently I sucked him off in the bathroom of the bar, but I don't remember that.  We also had sex and right before we did, he asked me, "Are you going to remember this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said yes...hah!  Fooled him.  I've only had drunk sex with him twice so I don't even know if sober sex is worth it with him.  I am moving out in 2 weeks to a new home and this new roommate has some cute friends aka potential hook ups.  Please, let's hope the love life can improve! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it horrible that I can not stop thinking about He Who Shall Not Be Named when I'm masterbating?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-7973558268938869359?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7973558268938869359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=7973558268938869359' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/7973558268938869359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/7973558268938869359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-sex-of-new-year.html' title='First Sex of the New Year'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-8077489642007837238</id><published>2009-01-12T12:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T12:16:11.009-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year New Experiences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>This one might offend you</title><content type='html'>Online dating, that's the topic today.  Dr. Zibbs of That Blue Yak asked me if I've ever tried online dating.  I realize I have no proof to back up what I'm about to say, but it is my belief and I'm sorry if it offends anyone who has done online dating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe online daters are mediocre looking.  The really ugly people tend to find one another eventually and so do the good looking people.  I would say in terms of looks I'm in the top 20%, classifying me as a good looking person who will eventually just meet someone the old-fashioned way.  My friend M met her boyfriend online.  She was only 22 when she was online looking for someone.  Are was as woman too ready to get married?  Just let it happen on it's own.  I know I talk about being single on this blog, but the truth is, I hate more being single in this town because there isn't much to do.  We don't have nice restaurants, a sports team, shows, seriously there isn't a whole lot to do.  But I honestly don't mind being single.  Eventually I hope to find a great guy, and I have NO problem holding out until he comes along. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that my friends is why I don't do online dating.  Plus I want that great how we met story, and leaving some things up to chance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-8077489642007837238?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/8077489642007837238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=8077489642007837238' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/8077489642007837238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/8077489642007837238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/this-one-might-offend-you.html' title='This one might offend you'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-5764162058299644772</id><published>2009-01-11T14:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T17:32:11.392-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>If you think it, he will come</title><content type='html'>Recently a friend of mine said the only way to truly get what you want is to envison and know exactly what you want specifically. She asked me what I wanted in a man, and was surprised to find I know exactly what I want. She said me knowing this means that eventually I will find him. Let's hope she's right! So here's what I told her I wanted:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Must be attractive, like other people wish they were dating him&lt;br /&gt;*My mom should adore him&lt;br /&gt;*Romantic: random notes, flowers, surprises me&lt;br /&gt;*Wakes up every morning wanting to make me happy (Don't worry, I'll do the same!)&lt;br /&gt;*When he gets home from work he'll want to compete in Wii or that kareoke game that is super fun&lt;br /&gt;*Likes to travel&lt;br /&gt;*Spontaneous&lt;br /&gt;*Open-minded&lt;br /&gt;*MUST be accepting of gay marriage&lt;br /&gt;*Talks to my brother on a regular basis because he wants to&lt;br /&gt;*Ambitious&lt;br /&gt;*Successful (this does not mean has a lot of money)&lt;br /&gt;*Has a lot of money...I kid, I kid&lt;br /&gt;*Can fulfill my sexual fantasies, meaning he's good in bed&lt;br /&gt;*Communicates well&lt;br /&gt;*Is ok that we will never spend Christmas morning at his parent's house, always mine&lt;br /&gt;*Be good at Catch Phrase with me as his partner&lt;br /&gt;*Likes to do physical activities&lt;br /&gt;*Affectionate&lt;br /&gt;*Social...we should be the couple people want to invite over&lt;br /&gt;*Funny&lt;br /&gt;*Will sing along crazy to the song on the radio, dance crazy with me like no one is watching...I guess he should just be crazy!&lt;br /&gt;*Will surprise me with Disney on Ice or concert tickets, because I love having tickets to ANYTHING&lt;br /&gt;*Loves me unconditionally&lt;br /&gt;*Can put me in my place when I get out of hand, or doesn't let me walk all over them (I need a man who can wear the pants, but let me think I'm wearing them :) )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure the list is far from over, but the thing is, we get our ideals from movies, other people's relationships, our own previous relationships, and what we feel we deserve.  All the guys I meet, I know instantly they are Right Now's, not Just Right.  A teacher of mine in high school once said you need to pick three qualities and use that to determine your husband, because it's hard to find someone who is everything.  Sure this list is very precise, but overall I don't think it's horrible.  The guy who fulfills all of this is out there right?  What's your list?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-5764162058299644772?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/5764162058299644772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=5764162058299644772' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/5764162058299644772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/5764162058299644772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/if-you-think-it-he-will-come.html' title='If you think it, he will come'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-43715160422352111</id><published>2009-01-09T16:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T16:31:21.993-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Don&apos;t call me baby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Save the generation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year New Experiences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beginnings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Competition'/><title type='text'>Let's talk about sex baby, let's talk about you and me</title><content type='html'>Competition and I did not rendevzouz last night, even though he knew where I was going to be and it was a mutual friend's birthday party.  Fine then!  He isn't putting in any effort, so I deleted his number.  Wait, let me be real honest, because if you can't be honest with yourself, who can you be honest with?  I deleted his number because in my drinking state, I didn't want to send a message I would come to regret.  And yes, I wasn't going to drink the whole month of January, but it was my friend's birthday ok?  This now brings my total to 7 drinks, 0 cock.  Way to go Famously Single.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what I really want to talk about is something that I have tried to understand my whole life.  Growing up I was never the pretty girl.  I wasn't the girl who made your head turn, but I was popular in high school because I was nice to everyone.  I mean hello, I was like Junior prom queen ok? (hair flip)  And I was a cheerleader.  Totally obvious how cool I was.  Did I mention I got voted best personality too?  Yeah, that's in the yearbook.  I digress...when people find me on Facebook, a lot of people say "You look so different.  I barely recognized you!"  Not quite sure how I should take this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back when I was 19 and dating the man I was sure I was going to marry, this guy my co-workers affectionatly called the Hot Fireman, asked me out.  Never had I been the girl to date the guy everyone wanted.  I told him I had a boyfriend, and we got coffee.  My boyfriend ended up finding out, dumped me, but that's not really the point of the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, I was better looking.  I had grown into my body.  I started taking pride in my personal appearance.  I started college and attended a party with male soccer players.  That got me caring about how I looked let me tell you.  I wouldn't say I had low self-esteem before, but I knew I wanted to be pretty and to have guys like me, but they didn't.  And then all of a sudden, they did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom raised me with the saying "Pretty is as pretty does."  I believed that if I was pretty on the inside, I would project pretty on the outside.  Mom failed to mention that pretty people have an easier life.  Being thought of as pretty meant a lot, because I was perceived a certain way, and ended up meaning I almost always GOT my way.  I have sometimes treated men like shit, and have thought in the back of my head, if I wasn't pretty, this guy would not still be talking to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But being pretty doesn't change your relationship with men.  I see some people with boyfriends and think why isn't that me?  I'm definitly pretty than her.  I sometimes forget what's on the inside that matters.  Being pretty may get you into the bar without having to wait, but it's not everything.  We think being better looking will solve many of our problems, but it doesn't.  And some may say it makes us unapproachable.  Now that I wrote this, I'm not 100% sure of my point and I think that's the thing.  How looks influence relationships is so weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To go back to me not being the pretty girl in high school...I was out at a bar one night and the Homecoming King from when I was a freshman so that makes him like 4 years older than me, was at the same bar.  This guy wouldn't have had anything to do with me back when I was in high school.  I remembered in high school that while he was extremly good looking, he was sometimes to rude to people he thought were less than.  He asked me out.  I asked if he was still the same person that he was in high school.  He said yes.  I said no thanks.  I got to turn him down and it felt good.  Also, my high school crush, who also wanted nothing to do with me in high school, now calls me wifey.  He thinks I am his future wife.  He has put on some weight and is no longer the crush I once envisioned.  Sorry for the long post.  What are your comments about looks, attraction and relationships?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-43715160422352111?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/43715160422352111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=43715160422352111' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/43715160422352111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/43715160422352111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/lets-talk-about-sex-baby-lets-talk.html' title='Let&apos;s talk about sex baby, let&apos;s talk about you and me'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-5227589931299778831</id><published>2009-01-08T14:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T15:03:17.265-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Don&apos;t try rehab have a drink'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Don&apos;t call me baby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Texting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Getting It On'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Competition'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday is in order</title><content type='html'>You know in Google Reader when you see one of your favorite bloggers doesn't have a new post and you feel a little sad, that's how I feel when &lt;a href="http://thatblueyak.blogspot.com/"&gt;That Blue Yak&lt;/a&gt; doesn't have anything new!  Lucky for me, that barely ever happens.  It's his birthday and even though we have never met, which we never will unless he come's to the west coast, because he lives in PA and I don't know how to use an ice pick, I want to wish him HAPPY BIRTHDAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Competition text messaged me last night.  I hadn't heard from him in like a week, since our last conversation about him being hard to get... I almost text him the other day but then I figured why bother?  If he wants me, he'll make the move.  And he did, but not quite what I was expecting:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Competition: what are you doing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: about to get off work.  i've been running around all day.  are you at work?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C: no just drinking thinking about you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: drinks will do that to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C: oh i know want to hook up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Sure  i'm going out tomorrow night (Ed: I want to make it clear that he can't just call me and I'll come running.  He can't be friends with benefits because the benefits are only when he has time.  I do not want that)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***an hour later***&lt;br /&gt;C: come over&lt;br /&gt;***an hour later***&lt;br /&gt;C: baby come over&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hearing that song right now.  It goes something like "Don't call me baby.  You've got to learn boy that will never do!  You know I don't belong to you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If he thinks adding baby is going to make me come running, he better think again!  But now, I don't know what to do.  I want to hang out with him because he's fun, but I would prefer if he made plans instead of just thinking I would come over!  Do all men need to be trained?  It's not like I think this guy is Mr. Right by any means, but he's fun.  What's a girl to do?  I don't know if I'll see him tonight, mainly because I'm practically a virgin at this point.  Do I really want to give it up to him (even though I did once before)?  Is he going to be the guy to break the drought?  I'm not so sure... 8 days sober with no cock in me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-5227589931299778831?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/5227589931299778831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=5227589931299778831' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/5227589931299778831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/5227589931299778831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-birthday-is-in-order.html' title='Happy Birthday is in order'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-2259122439706728489</id><published>2009-01-07T15:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T15:33:17.849-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attached'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Save the generation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year New Experiences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><title type='text'>I'm feeling evil</title><content type='html'>Is it weird that sometimes I think about what I'm going to write on the blog while I am masterbating?  I mean usually I can get myself off quick, but last night it was taking so long.  Actually, I couldn't sleep so I just kept masterbating and then I started thinking about what I wanted to write in the blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This little number didn't cum to me last night (sorry!  I couldn't resist).  Today I was talking to Attached and we were discussing std's.  Both of us have never had one, not like having one is a club we want to be in anyway.  I was telling him there's this website where you can send anonymous letters to people letting them know you have an std and that they should probably get tested.  How horrible is it that I sometimes think about sending one to He Who Shall Not Be Named, just to be evil?  I know horrible, which is why I never did it. but what a great revenge tool.  Seriously men, women are crazy.  I'll be the first to admit it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow we'll be talking about looks...what I think about looks and personality and how nothing regarding looks will ever make sense to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And back to women being crazy.  I want to know the craziest thing you've ever done to an ex.  Men, you're included in this one too.  I have a few crazies, but probably the best one was having a friend of mine, M, myspace my ex-boyfriend and try to hook up with him.  Later on, he saw us together and the plan was foiled, but it was a good attempt at crazy I think.  I also like to say I am the #1 stalker.  I have good tricks at finding people! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For this new horrible year:  I have had 0 kisses, 0 hook ups, and 0 cocktails.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-2259122439706728489?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2259122439706728489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=2259122439706728489' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/2259122439706728489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/2259122439706728489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-feeling-evil.html' title='I&apos;m feeling evil'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-6531081696049766566</id><published>2009-01-06T13:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T13:32:53.034-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year New Experiences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fuck This'/><title type='text'>I see the light</title><content type='html'>Does something you do everyday remind you of your ex?  Oh, you say I'm the only one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After He Who Shall Not Be Named and I started dating and he spent the night at my house, he asked me if the light from my alarm clock bothered me.  I had never even seen it before, but he insisted on using a pillow to cover the light.  Now, every night before I go to bed, I put a pillow over that light, because even though it never used to bother me, it does now!  See how he randomly creeps back in?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-6531081696049766566?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6531081696049766566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=6531081696049766566' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/6531081696049766566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/6531081696049766566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-see-light.html' title='I see the light'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-7175784269576837492</id><published>2009-01-05T23:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T00:03:40.079-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attached'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My friends will someday be famous'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Don&apos;t try rehab have a drink'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Save the generation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year New Experiences'/><title type='text'>Great Friends</title><content type='html'>I have great friends!  Today, I was a little upset over this incident with my grandma and my girl J totally had my back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend M dealt with e-mails like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  I love us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: I love us too.  Stop thinking about He Who Shall Not Be Named.  There are so many better people out there for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  I just can't stop thinking about how our great our [edited for work] was, which he is now doing with his new girlfriend I like to call Cindy, and which I often think about while I am [edited for work] except Cindy is so not in what I am picturing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl just gets me.  Those edits for work are sex and masterbating, since I can tell you all now because I'm not on my work e-mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though Attached has a girlfriend, he is still very much there for me and I appreciate it so much! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comic called me today and said, "I woke up so upset today."  Of course I ask why?  He says, "I just can not believe that this girl I went to high school with is on that new show on MTV, The City.  I mean, can you believe it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he seriously says stuff like this all the time.  It makes me smile and I just feel genuinely lucky to have him as my friend.  See why I call him Comic? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a total sad and terrible note, how depressing is it that I have not been kissed all of 2009?  I like to have sex every day in January, because as long as you do it, you can say you have had sex all year long.  Now, I can say I haven't had sex this whole entire year.  What the hell?  I mean I know we're being anonymous, but I don't think I'm an ugly chick.  Look, I'm not God's gift either by any means, but I don't think I should have already gone 6 days with no sex.  Doesn't that seem like an eternity?  I also haven't had any liquor in 6 days.  Maybe I should just become a nun.  It seems I'm well on my way!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-7175784269576837492?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7175784269576837492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=7175784269576837492' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/7175784269576837492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/7175784269576837492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/great-friends.html' title='Great Friends'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-9157744074871259036</id><published>2009-01-05T12:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T12:28:47.172-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year New Experiences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beginnings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fuck This'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Competition'/><title type='text'>Jealousy</title><content type='html'>Of all the emotions I have ever felt, probably jealousy is the worst. And what better way to try and get over it, then by blogging about it? First of all, a girl I went to school with is on the show The City.  She is living in New York as a model, so obvioulsy jealousy there, but she is also on this show that I think is pretty cool (Judge me all you want)  Her name is Allie.  Thankfully, her boyfriend in the show ends up being a pretty bad guy (see cheating whore), which makes me feel a little better.  I mean she may be beautiful and living in the coolest place, but her love life is more messed up than mine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there is another girl I went to school with who has the exact job I want, except she is doing it in our lovely city, without ever having to move to some small town to get experience yada, yada, yada.  I can't help but be jealous.  I try to think eventually I'll make more money than her or it won't last for her, but that doesn't stop the jealousy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention the people who have those relationships that make you jealous.  I am trying to come to terms with my jealousy, but it is so hard!  I feel like the more I try and get over it, the more I think about it.  I try to be honest with my emotions, because you aren't getting anywhere if you lie to other people and yourself, but jealousy is the one emotion you can't just get over.  Because it makes you look at yourself and what's important and why do some people seem to have it all, while others are working their butts off to get there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm over my jealousy rant.  Deep breaths, deep breaths!  Competition and I had a cute text message conversation about him not getting my message on New Year's Eve so we could hook up.  He said his phone died, and I told him that he is only available on his terms and I don't like that.  He said that he is hard to catch, but when you do get him he's 100 %.  I said I would cut off all the guys from 2008, but there is something about him.  He really is charming.  He claims he is a triple threat: charming, good looking and funny.  But he hasn't called me since last Thursday.  What gives?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-9157744074871259036?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/9157744074871259036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=9157744074871259036' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/9157744074871259036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/9157744074871259036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/jealousy.html' title='Jealousy'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-1790861493011662375</id><published>2009-01-01T10:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T10:55:16.701-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drunky'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Co-worker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Getting It On'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings Are So Overrated'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year New Experiences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fuck This'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Competition'/><title type='text'>2009 here I come or cum...hopefully both!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://missfabulousherself.blogspot.com/"&gt;Miss Fabulous&lt;/a&gt; did a great post about her men from 2008 and saying goodbye to them, and I want to do the same thing.  Miss Fabulous if you're reading, I love your blog but everytime I try to comment on it, it won't let me!  The same is true for Spencer Wildwood's blog, but please know I am reading and appreciating!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to the following men from 2008, I am going to try not to ever think about you, move on from you, realize I deserve better and say my piece right here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He Who Shall Not Be Named: Everything reminds me of you.  I wish it didn't.  You broke my heart, but I will never tell you that.  I try and think you have issues, but maybe I am the one with issues.  I didn't e-mail you for your birthday because I want you to be the one who last made contact.  If you really wanted to keep in touch, you could easily find me online.  And I also hate that you never had the balls to try and have anal sex with me even though I know you wanted to.  Good-bye.  I have wasted too much of my life thinking about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mac:  You are such an asshole.  I'm glad I fucked your friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Model:  You are smoking hot and I plan on staying in contact with you while you're deployed, but only as friends.  I hope one day you stop being a man whore so we can have beautiful babies, because we would.  We're both tall, thin, blonde hair, and blue eyes.  Hitler would be so proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Co-worker: I'm not sorry that I told you're girlfriend we were fucking.  You are a snake.  I can't believe you thought your game was so good that I would fuck you before work, while your girlfriend was on her way to visit you.  You are such a manipulator and everyone sees that except your girlfriend.  You are not the man you try to pretend you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Competition: I don't know how, but I think I like you more than you like me.  Which is weird, because I know I am way cuter than you.  I'm deleting your number so you won't get any crazy text messages from me ever again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there are a few other honorable mentions, but these are the only ones that stick out at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the Co-worker story as brief as possible.  Co-worker called during the holidays saying he missed me, let's have phone sex, all the things he wants to do to me.  He's driving home on Monday and wants me to come over before he goes to work.  I don't intend on having sex with him at all, but I like to tease him.  I ask if we can do it after the show.  He says no because he has work things he needs to do and will be out late.  He never says this.  No matter how late it is he always wants me to come over.  I get the feeling girlfriend is coming to town.  So after the show, I send him a text message about 45 minutes after work is over saying I'm on my way over.  He calls me about 5 minutes later saying his girlfriend SURPRISED him for New Years  blah blah blah.  He swears he isn't a liar, but I point out that his girlfriend has no idea he's talking to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next night we all go out.  I see her.  I say we need to talk.  I pull her outside.  Co-worker is looking nervous, but he's a manipulator so he probably thinks he can get his way out of it.  I tell her I know we haven't been the best of friends and she starts going off on me about flirting with Co-worker!  I'm thinking choose your battles girl, because I didn't just flirt.  So I told her everything I could before she walked away from me to find him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last I heard she was still in town with him.  Why do girls do that?  He's not a good man.  He cheated on her.  He has plans to get back with his ex-girlfriend.  She deserves so much better.  I never want to be like that.  And who knows what he told her about me!  So there's the drama.  Hopefully less drama next year.  A psychic came to work yesterday and predicted I will be in a relationship in 4 months.  She also said I may never have kids and won't get married until I'm 30.  Oh, and I have 2 long term relationships before I get married.  But who knows if you can believe that stuff!  Happy New Year.  Thank you for reading :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-1790861493011662375?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1790861493011662375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=1790861493011662375' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/1790861493011662375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/1790861493011662375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/2009-here-i-come-or-cumhopefully-both.html' title='2009 here I come or cum...hopefully both!'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-183918453780889956</id><published>2008-12-28T16:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T17:12:31.192-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attached'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Co-worker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Getting It On'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings Are So Overrated'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year New Experiences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Untouchable Face'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fuck This'/><title type='text'>Famously Single did NOT get laid last night...what am I a chuch girl?</title><content type='html'>Last night Competition was a no show. Shouldn't men be all over a girl who wants to have sex all the time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a lot of guy friends, mainly because they can talk to me about anything and because I like sex just as often as they do. I had no idea other girls did not feel this way. A marriage with no sex will never exist for me. It's too important, among other reasons I was committed to not being a virgin when I get married. Anyway, I was talking with one of my best guy friends and I was telling him my crazy stories and he said, "How are you single?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brought me to an amazing realization. I am way more ready to get in the sheets, than get in a relationship. For some reason, this does not seem healthy. But I want amazing, and when it comes to a relationship, I want it all. Probably the main thing I miss is doing those little thoughtful things for your significant other. My mom always had cards under our pillows or would put little notes in the pocket of our pants. She is an incredibly thoughtful woman and I hope to be a wife like her when I grow up. Her and my step-dad have also been to a masterbating party in San Francisco so you can see where I get my sexual drive. I'll never forget being 13 and my mom telling me that sometimes sex gets boring, so if your husband asks you to do something, be a yes girl. Say yes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the only reason I started thinking about this is because He Who Shall Not Be Named's birthday is tomorrow. When he left to check out the place he wanted to move to, I put a note in his luggage, so while he was there, he would know I cared about him. I wish I had more of an opportunity to do things like that for him, but we all know that wasn't the case. It doesn't matter anyway because he never got to experience the real uninhibited me and we only had sex in our beds. I'm sure that's reason enough not to miss him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sending an e-mail tomorrow for his birthday. That is it. My heart says it's the right thing to do. There are several times a month I want to just be with him, move to be with him, give up my career. And then I realize how ridiculous this is. And then I wish I was never on that story, that I would have never met him, and my heart would still be in one piece. Because once your heart is broken, I think you're terrified it could happen again.  How I feel right now, I hope to not ever feel again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now New Year's Eve is fast approaching and I want 2009 to be amazing!  And I'm also wondering will Competition or Co-worker be my NYE kiss?  Or maybe someone new?  Ahh...the excitement!  Plus, Attached and his girlfriend are planning on spending NYE with me and my friends too.  Seriously I say excitement, but maybe drama?  3 more days to find out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-183918453780889956?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/183918453780889956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=183918453780889956' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/183918453780889956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/183918453780889956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/famously-single-did-not-get-laid-last.html' title='Famously Single did NOT get laid last night...what am I a chuch girl?'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-8280327787671324608</id><published>2008-12-26T21:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T22:00:37.626-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attached'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drunky'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Getting It On'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beginnings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Competition'/><title type='text'>Attraction</title><content type='html'>What causes us to be attracted to certain people?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Competition and I allegedly had sex last night.  I only know because he told me this morning, but otherwise I have no recollection of that!  I also allegedly called him by a different name.  Score one for Famously Single!  Can I at least keep my men straight?  I don't know what it is about Competition, but he's super funny and I'm almost drawn to him.  He is charismatic.  He calls it his "charm" and that makes him cute to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I have a thing for people's boyfriends.  I have always been the girl that my friends feel uncomfortable hanging out with their boyfriends alone.  I don't know why.  I see men who are attached as safe and I can just be myself, expecially when I'm friends with their girlfriends.  The other day, a co-workers boyfriend who we'll call Attached and I were going to go out for drinks.  The co-worker is out of town so Attached is lonely.  When he first e-mailed me about it, I swear I thought he had other friends here who he was intending on seeing and staying at their house.  But when I realized it would be just me and him, I started thinking about him staying at my house and then I really badly wanted to fuck him.  Some drunk text messages later, he pretty much knew what was up and declined. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know right?  Stand up guy because he didn't want to do that to his girlfriend.  Even though, I knew it would be our little secret.  Why am I attracted to him?  I don't know.  He's cute, but I know he's attached.  But we've become pretty good friends over the whole ordeal and to avoid the rejection, I'm just going to tell myself that he knows he can't sleep with me because he'll want it BAD. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever had anyone you are attracted to, but don't know why?  And why is one person cute to someone, but ugly to another?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-8280327787671324608?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/8280327787671324608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=8280327787671324608' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/8280327787671324608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/8280327787671324608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/attraction.html' title='Attraction'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-5588200311025948351</id><published>2008-12-24T16:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T16:30:09.537-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drunky'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Don&apos;t try rehab have a drink'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Roommates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cunnilingus is for Super Stars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Getting It On'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Competition'/><title type='text'>Making out involves blow jobs and other rules you need to know</title><content type='html'>Funniest conversation last night with my male roommates about how everybody knows making out involves a blow jobs.  The two guys said hand jobs and making out go hand in hand, but my rule is, guys can rub one out but they can't suck their own dick.  Enter me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which goes along with my last post because me and Competition made out.  You get what I'm saying right?  I feel the only thing I need to say is we made out and you should just know that I sucked him off.  Last night at the bar, my friend said that Competition told her boyfriend about us "making out"  I never denied that I gave him a blow job, but I didn't confirm it either.  I text him saying way to kiss and tell but he assumed I was going to tell my friend everything, which I obviously did because I said we made out.  Shouldn't she just know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This resulted in many more text messages about how horny I was and wanted to get together with him.  I think I need to turn my phone off when I get drunk!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-5588200311025948351?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/5588200311025948351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=5588200311025948351' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/5588200311025948351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/5588200311025948351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/making-out-involves-blow-jobs-and-other.html' title='Making out involves blow jobs and other rules you need to know'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-3114890845396371321</id><published>2008-12-21T18:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T19:01:34.092-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Texting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Getting It On'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings Are So Overrated'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beginnings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Competition'/><title type='text'>The Pink Bathrobe</title><content type='html'>I have come to the realization that almost every man who sleeps in my room at one point wears my pink bathrobe.  It's from Victoria's Secret and fits most very tight.  You know, they have to get up to use the restroom, so rather than put their clothes on, they put on the robe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trying so hard to remember the name of this book I read, a compilation of short stories, where the author talks about how guys she dated brought her my little ponies based on something she always says.  I guess my pink bathrobe is sort of like that.  Do you have something like that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I brought home the Competition last night.  On Friday night I went out and met up with some co-workers, along with a guy who works for a competing place.  He got wasted and as they were dropping me off at my car, he said, "Let's go have sex."  I, of course, said no and asked if that line really works?  But ever since he said that, I sort of thought about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, randomly last night, I was out with a friend, who apparently knows Competition, and we hung out.  And when I went to go to my car, he came too.  There's something about him.  He is cute, but his personality makes him cuter, and I guess we have sexual tension from times we have hung out before.  I didn't have sex with him, as much as he begged me too.  We just made out and this morning I dropped him off at his house.  I called my friend to tell her, before her boyfriend could tell her how I was making out with him in the back of the car and she seemed almost disgusted.  This can not be a good sign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I just got a text message from a guy who used to be a model with a seriously beautiful body, but typical model with not much upstairs.  He's being deployed and he wants my e-mail address so we can stay in contact.  Or because he wants me to send him dirty e-mails.  Probably the latter :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there's my weekend.  Planning on seeing 7 Pounds tomorrow...can't wait.  Happy Hanukahh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-3114890845396371321?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/3114890845396371321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=3114890845396371321' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/3114890845396371321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/3114890845396371321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/pink-bathrobe.html' title='The Pink Bathrobe'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-8586055229132671503</id><published>2008-12-20T15:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T15:41:34.668-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Texting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Save the generation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>Are we letting men off easy with text messaging?</title><content type='html'>Last night, I went out with a female co-worker after work.  I swore I wasn't going to drink until New Year's Eve, but you know what, I don't care.  You're only young once, and besides, I wasn't planning on getting drunk.  While we were out at the bar, I got a text message from down syndrome council member about going to breakfast.  We must have text messaged back and forth about 20 times before firming up plans for lunch instead of breakfast.  I happened to be out at a bar and couldn't really talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, that's a lie.  I could have gone outside to talk to him, but I had just met this nice guy who is a US Marshall, so I was chatting with him a little bit.  I like text messaging, don't get me wrong.  It's just talking on the phone is so much easier.  I like getting that random text message that brightens my day, makes me smile, feel cared about.  But if we are trying to discuss plans or someone really wants to get to know me, I appreciate the phone call.  Better yet, I like the phone call that says I was just thinking about you, I want to see you.  I'd much rather be talking in person if I have the opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has technology made us socially awkward?  Is it that much easier to use Facebook, Myspace, text messaging to communicate?  Are we relying on being able to review what we say before we say it, because that is impossible to do when communicating on the phone or in person?  We can script what we want to say, because that calms our nerves a little.  I worry for the generations after us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The US Marshall said something about having a hard time meeting people.  I completly disagree.  If I see people I think look interesting (ahem...hot guys) I have no problem going up to them and talking to them.  I have the ability to still use the technology to communicate, yet I don't rely on it.  I'm concerned for the people who feel the need to rely on it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-8586055229132671503?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/8586055229132671503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=8586055229132671503' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/8586055229132671503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/8586055229132671503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/are-we-letting-men-off-easy-with-text.html' title='Are we letting men off easy with text messaging?'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-1109569534920082215</id><published>2008-12-19T19:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T20:12:36.286-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drunky'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Don&apos;t try rehab have a drink'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Getting It On'/><title type='text'>My friend wants to go to rehab and other things that happen when you drink with me</title><content type='html'>Ok, so after work on Sunday I drove to Comic's house in beautiful San Diego, or so I thought, because I got snowed in on Wednesday and ended up staying another night.  Anyway, Sunday night there was no drinking because I got there at like midnight.  But there was sex, the kind of sex that has you looking up the wall thinking what in the world is going on?  I don't have a lot of sex like this.  First of all, we're friends and we met because I worked with his now ex-girlfriend, so you can see where the awkwardness is.  So getting it going was strange.  We always talk about how we use protection when we have sex, and it was surprising that we didn't use protection.  Maybe that's because we are really good friends and I think it would be weird if we did use a condom.  Actually now that I type that, it doesn't make sense, but I do know that I thought about it before hand and I did think it would be weird if he put on a condom.  Judge me all you want, he's like my best friend and I also associate him as the male version of me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the condom thing was not why the sex was strange.  He was on top.  He slides in...wait, is it in?  Oh, it is, but why can't I feel him?  He was on top for about 2 minutes, he cums, he lays there, on top of me.  During that two minutes, I looked at the ceiling thinking if him and my ex-friend ever get back together, I will always know she has to deal with that.  This made me smile.  Not cumming did not make me smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed up until 3 in the morning.  He felt bad that he didn't get me off and we had sex with me on top.  Ahh...there's that penis.  And I finished.  Monday he worked and I drank.  He came home and we drank.  We went in the hot tub and then had sex...at night and Tuesday morning.  Then we did the same thing Tuesday, and then Wednesday.  Wednesday his friend came over and we both got SUPER wasted and fell down some stairs.  My beautiful legs look I got into a fight.  We're talking bruises, cuts, gashes.  It's not looking pretty.  On Thursday, his boss sent him home from work because he reeked of alcohol.  Now he thinks he needs rehab.  This is what happens when you party with me for 3 days straight.  I feel a little responsible, but he's a big boy.  He can make his own decisions right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He called his mom.  She's there with him now.  Normally, we would talk everyday.  We are barely talking.  I hope he's not mad at me, like I made him drink.  I mean we were planning on going to a live sex show and getting down.  We can still do that right?  Right?  Oh no....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-1109569534920082215?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1109569534920082215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=1109569534920082215' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/1109569534920082215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/1109569534920082215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-friend-wants-to-go-to-rehab-and.html' title='My friend wants to go to rehab and other things that happen when you drink with me'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-6461949073870546955</id><published>2008-12-18T14:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T14:38:34.460-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings Are So Overrated'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fuck This'/><title type='text'>Crazy Dating Story</title><content type='html'>I submitted this story as my crazy dating story and I'm really not feeling like putting the past 3 days out on the internet yet, so I' m using what I sent.  I have another story that involves my phone getting stolen by a guy but for now, crazy dating story #1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After having my heart broken and five months of no sex, I decided it was really time to get into the game.  Enter Mac.  We met while out for a mutual friend's birthday party.  He was cute, in the military and I was slightly needy.  He seemed like such a nice guy and maybe after 5 months, I wasn't being as selective.  In my drunk state, I even text messaged my dad saying I met the man I want to marry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward a few weeks.  I wake up next to him.  This is like the 2nd time we have ever slept together.  He is getting up to go golfing.  I am lying in his bed.  He's about to leave.  He says, "Just so you know that gun right there is fully loaded.  So if you try to mess around with it, it's loaded and it will go off."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say, "Wait...I slept with a loaded gun by me the whole night."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says, "Yeah.  Alright I'm leaving."  He is almost to the door.  I'm already thinking he is a psycho, until...wait for it....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He turns around and says, "Your pussy's mine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've slept with this man twice and already he is staking claim on my pussy!  Seriously, who says that and for once in my life I was literally speechless.  What are you supposed to say to that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I would have said your dick is mine, but I found out that really his dick wasn't mine, and maybe that "your pussy's mine" line really works because while he was screwing everything with 2 legs, these girls were not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, I found out that he shot some guy in the leg who tried to get into his girl's apartment.  Guess there is one benefit to sleeping by a loaded gun :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-6461949073870546955?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6461949073870546955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=6461949073870546955' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/6461949073870546955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/6461949073870546955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/crazy-dating-story.html' title='Crazy Dating Story'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-5000561294389750727</id><published>2008-12-13T18:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T18:52:13.534-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Co-worker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Getting It On'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings Are So Overrated'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>Friends With Benefits</title><content type='html'>I have seen numerous people post about this and I'm having a realization of my own and thought I would contribute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone wants friends with benefits to work out.  The thing I like about having a friend you fool around with is it's comfortable.  And I guess in the case of Co-worker, it's sort of scandalous.  But I think I might be developing feelings for Co-worker.  Not feelings like I wish he were my boyfriend, because trust me when I say this, he annoys me to no end on numerous occasions.  I just like to feel like I'm number one, and when you're friends with benefits, you are always looking for something else out there.  Now, my ex-friends boyfriend, I need a name for him...how about Comic, because he is super funny.  Comic and I live almost 3 hours away from one another and I know he would not be the kind of boyfriend I would want, but I have fun with him and I feel really happy with him.  So what if we have chemistry and fool around?  I know it isn't going anywhere and so does he.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But why does friends with benefits leave me a little sad, wanting more?  I think with Comic I am fine with it because we openly talk about his ex-girlfriend and I know where his head is at.  Plus we are like best friends.  We talk every day.  I know he cares about me for more than just sex.  Co-worker on the other hand tries to hide everything, with his ex-girlfriends or maybe current girlfriends who knows?  And I think that is where the friends with benefits is getting messed up.  Everyday I feel conflicted about Co-worker, but at the end of the day, I find it hard to quit.  It's safe, it's fun, and it's consistant.  Why use my hand when I can use Co-worker?  I don't think friends with benefits will ever be solved, at least not by me.  With one person it works, with another, it doesn't.  And maybe I'm too deep into it with Co-worker to step back and see if it's working or not.  I just know the sex is great, but I hate that sometimes he is shady about where he's going for the weekend or what the real situation is with the other women in his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Totally unrelated...one of my &lt;a href="http://27dressesincleveland.blogspot.com/"&gt;favorite blogs&lt;/a&gt; has the best idea and I can't wait to participate.   She is asking for bloggers to submit stories, and since I'm single, it will be about one of my craziest dating stories ever.  Er...dating/sexual experience :)  I can't wait to share because it's actually crazy dating stories that made me want to do this blog.  You'll have to check it out over there to see other people's horror stories.  It will hopefully make us all feel a little better about our stories!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-5000561294389750727?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/5000561294389750727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=5000561294389750727' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/5000561294389750727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/5000561294389750727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/friends-with-benefits.html' title='Friends With Benefits'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-3339212203758178531</id><published>2008-12-11T21:02:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T21:04:02.983-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fuck This'/><title type='text'>Cyber Stalking</title><content type='html'>How horrible is it that I look up He Who Shall Not Be Named on Myspace to see if maybe it won't be private for some odd reason, or if maybe his status update will say something different?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The internet makes it to soo easy to cyber stalk and I both love and hate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-3339212203758178531?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/3339212203758178531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=3339212203758178531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/3339212203758178531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/3339212203758178531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/cyber-stalking.html' title='Cyber Stalking'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-9034254639257122314</id><published>2008-12-10T20:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T20:22:45.975-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cunnilingus is for Super Stars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Co-worker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>I just did something amazing</title><content type='html'>I had sex in a place you shouldn't...it's a place you spend let's say about 40 hours a week at.  That's all I'm saying about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to the topic at hand: going down on a girl, licking here pussy, head, cunnilingus, whatever you want to call it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first boyfriend wasn't that into it.  I believe he even made a comment about fish.  My second boyfriend was fine with it, but first boyfriend made me feel so uncomfortable that we rarely did it.  He Who Shall Not Be Named wanted me to ride his face.  He was into it.  He wanted to do it all the time.  Co-worker has never done it, maybe once.  He actually said to me that he only likes to go down on a girl after she has just showered or is in the shower.  What the hell is that about?  When I'm giving head, I like to do it like I need the dick to breathe.  Is that too much to ask, I mean seriously! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok now listen, I know pussys have a smell.  I masterbate like 3 times a day.  I know what I taste like, what I smell like.  Is it really that bad?  Help me out here!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-9034254639257122314?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/9034254639257122314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=9034254639257122314' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/9034254639257122314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/9034254639257122314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-just-did-something-amazing.html' title='I just did something amazing'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-2712360941887666022</id><published>2008-12-07T14:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T14:24:17.722-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drunky'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Co-worker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Texting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Getting It On'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fuck This'/><title type='text'>I can't think of a title</title><content type='html'>Well, well, well.  If you read through the entire last post, thank you.  If not, I understand.  That was a long one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel as though there are a lot of updates to get to...let's start things off with Co-worker.  When we last left off, Co-worker had his girlfriend in town, even though in his mind they are not together.  I told other co-workers that Co-worker and I were sleeping together and in my drunken state, wanted to tell his girlfriend we were sleeping together.  Not a smart move...thank goodness I didn't.  Co-worker called on Wednesday to see if I wanted to come over.  I politely declined.  On Thursday, Co-worker sent a text about The Office being on that night.  I text him back saying don't try and lure me to your house with tv shows.  I already told you if you sleep with girlfriend, we can not sleep together.  He text back get over yourself.  He won an award at the Christmas party.  I text him to let him know last night.  We continued to text back and forth and I have a feeling I will sleep with him again, which is of course, a horrible idea!  But hey, sometimes a girl needs some loving right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He Who Shall Not Be Named has cooled it with the text messaging.  His birthday is in 3 weeks.  I want to e-mail, but don't know if I should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I met a new guy.  Let me preface this by saying that in the town I live in there's about 20 to 1 ratio of guys to girls.  You would think this would be amazing which it can be in the free drink department, but there are really a lot of scum bags too.  I started talking to a guy who I thought his name was Justin, but apparently it's Travis.  Oops!  Well he knows and I think works with 2 other scum bags I dated/slept with.  This could be bad, but we'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hung out with my ex-friend's ex-boyfriend for a few days...following that?  There is something about being a we instead of me that is so much better and I want that and I guess I feel a little lonely.  I also watched Grey's Anatomy this morning and it made me cry.  Something about Alex confessing his love made me feel lonely.  I guess I just have to assume that the perfect guy is out there for me.  In other news, I did rock the hottest dress to the holiday party!  You know you can't get a picture but maybe if you e-mail me, we can be like facebook friends or something :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-2712360941887666022?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2712360941887666022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=2712360941887666022' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/2712360941887666022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/2712360941887666022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-cant-think-of-title.html' title='I can&apos;t think of a title'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-7571157032442113760</id><published>2008-12-06T20:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T20:12:40.864-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beginnings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Untouchable Face'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fuck This'/><title type='text'>The Hard One</title><content type='html'>This is the post I've been dreading...the story of He Who Shall Not Be Named, but I feel like to not tell it is to undo this entire blog, because he's kinda the whole thing that brought it on. If I ever write some chick lit, I'm dedicating it to him, the man who made me think my stories were deserving of a book :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met on a story. I was the new reporter. He was the hot photographer. We talked about how boring it is in our town. He pulled out a pen and paper, gave me his number and said we should hang out. I freaked out in the car and called my friend to ask why she never told me he was single. Apparently she didn't know which meant it was a new break-up. But why should I care about this...this man was hot, I was in a new town and so it began. I texted him the next day about his photos. He said he was going out of town for Christmas but we should get together when he got back. And we did. We met up at a bar with some other people I was with. It was awkward, it was fun, and I couldn't wait to do it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we did and then one weekend, my friend came to visit me. And I hadn't slept with him yet, but I wanted to, and she approved of him and so he went home with me. I was drunk but it was awkward, it was fun, and I couldn't wait to do it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we did, the next night and we started hanging out and there was something about him that just got me, even though I couldn't 100 % be myself around him. I wanted to be the girl he wanted, instead of just the girl I am, because I was so amazed that this guy was with me. It took about a month before the ex-girlfriend was brought up, when I found out that she went with him to Christmas at his family's house and they were together for 4 years. He moved for her, they lived together in "our" town. And then he got a photography job somewhere else and he moved. On the day he left, I looked at his phone while he was in the shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I did it, but I think that when you have to look, you know you are going to find something. And find something I did...text sent to his ex: Every day I wake up with an emptiness and a loneliness that only you can fulfill and I both love and hate you for it. And no, I don't feel embaressed that I know exactly what it says word for word. The text was sent the night before. I couldn't believe it. I had no idea he had such emptiness and loneliness. I had no idea he had so much emotions because he certainly didn't show that to me. I had finally, after years of dating, had my heart broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He left, and I thought I would never hear from him again. But he called that night and then proceeded to keep calling, e-mailing, texting. It felt nice, like he really cared, even if it was very sporadic. I was confused why he was doing this. Why keep me around when you still aren't over your ex and we are seperated by thousands of miles? I sent him an e-mail confessing that I looked at his text messages while he was in the shower the day he left. I tried to end it funny by saying that the Professor said if our relationship was so great, wouldn't I have been in the shower with him? He could have called. He could have e-mailed back. Instead, he text messaged me like 5 days later: Just checked my e-mail. Don't know what to say. I guess that comes with the 4-year relationship territory. Hope you're well. I didn't respond. There was no need and I thought that was it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward 2 weeks later. I'm visiting a friend in L.A. I have just finished talking about how everytime I order a vodka 7 I think of him because he was the one who thought I would like that drink. I get a text message: So are we no longer friends? :( I don't know what to do. Do I respond? Do I leave it alone? Do I keep reading it, wondering if this is real? Or do I do none of the above because he calls me and we proceed to talk for 2 hours even though it is like 2 in the morning his time and I'm pretty sure he is wasted? Ding, ding, ding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continue our sporadic conversations for a few more weeks, but then I have called twice and told him about my promotion, and he hasn't called me. We don't talk for many, many months, possibly 6 maybe more. Last month, he myspace messages my boss and says he is coming in to town, driving through town because he quit his job and is moving somewhere else. Asks for her to give me his number and see about drinks. Drinks lead to me in his hotel, which leads to him not calling me for another month, which leads to the random texts. This leads me to delete his number from my phone. It's too hard. His birthday is this month. I want to send an e-mail that only says Happy Birthday. Am I crazy? Seriously, we dated for 2 months. It's not like this was a long drawn-out love affair? And do you ever wish you had never met someone...like maybe if I wasn't on that story, I never would have met him and my heart would not be broken, or is this healthy?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-7571157032442113760?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7571157032442113760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=7571157032442113760' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/7571157032442113760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/7571157032442113760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/hard-one.html' title='The Hard One'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-9109652786697460113</id><published>2008-12-03T16:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T16:49:13.498-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An "Oh No" Moment</title><content type='html'>Last night I got together for drinks with many co-workers, including the Co-worker and his girlfriend.  It is here that I found out I wanted to tell girlfriend about me sleeping with Co-worker.  Wow!  How drunk was I?  I also sent many text messages and calls randomly.  I feel a little embarassed :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But seeing Co-worker with his girlfriend wasn't awkward even though maybe it should have been.  Is it ok to fuck someone with no feelings involved, because I am seeing a little bit of a pattern of this?  I'm even a little embarassed that people know we slept together, which is not a good feeling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, a city council member asked for my phone number last night.  Now listen, I might be interested in someone in city council, say if they looked like &lt;a href="http://images.google.com/images?hl=en&amp;amp;rlz=1T4GPEA_enUS289US290&amp;amp;resnum=0&amp;amp;q=gavin%20newsom&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;ie=UTF-8&amp;amp;sa=N&amp;amp;tab=wi"&gt;Gavin Newsom&lt;/a&gt;!  But I'm the kind of girl that would be with a city council member who picked up prostitutes on the side, is caught going to a masterbation party, and cheats on his wife.  I would not be with a council member who is on the straight and narrow, trying to make a name for himself in politics, beside the fact that his picture on the city website makes him look like he has down syndrome.  So there's where my love life is at the moment...the down syndrome looking city council member is hitting on me, Co-worker and I are so over, and my heart still beats for He Who Shall Not Be Named.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although on a random note, I had to call to get the website fixed for work, and I always talk to the same tech guy so I told him we should be Facebook friends.  He said we shouldn't be talking about that at the moment, but he would e-mail me later.  Just got the e-mail.  I'll keep you posted on if he's cute or not :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while you're waiting for the He Who Shall Not Be Named post that has been in draft for a week now, check out this &lt;a href="http://dearoldlove.com/"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-9109652786697460113?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/9109652786697460113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=9109652786697460113' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/9109652786697460113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/9109652786697460113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/oh-no-moment.html' title='An &quot;Oh No&quot; Moment'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-6785206677444730393</id><published>2008-12-02T19:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T20:09:27.543-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drunky'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Co-worker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings Are So Overrated'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Professor'/><title type='text'>What did I do?</title><content type='html'>All day today I have been crazy sick and it's all my fault because I got wasted last night.  The long islands were on sale for $3 and my bill was $50...enough said.  Well in my drunken stupor I decide to text Co-worker because I haven't heard from him and I have a feeling his girlfriend is in town, but I want him to tell me that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I text him about us hooking up, which looking back on it really puts all the power in his hands, so great job in not being an independent woman.  He calls me.  I call him back.  He asks me if I listened to my voicemail.  I say no and he tells me to listen to that and then call him back, which why couldn't he just tell me.  And the answer is: yes girlfriend ex-coworker is in town, and today she sent me a text message inviting everyone to go out.  And even though I am feeling sick I think I'm going to go!  So wish me luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and the what did I do?  I told two co-workers I'm fucking Co-worker.  I'm scared about what could happen at work now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I took the advice and did not e-mail Professor!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-6785206677444730393?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6785206677444730393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=6785206677444730393' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/6785206677444730393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/6785206677444730393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-did-i-do.html' title='What did I do?'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-6960903340417096218</id><published>2008-11-28T19:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T19:51:06.653-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Co-worker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Texting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Professor'/><title type='text'>Catching Up</title><content type='html'>So basically Monday was a test for Co-worker because he knew I was going to see the Professor and I was supposed to stay the night there so he could have had his girlfriend or ex-girlfriend (whatever!) over.  But I was pleasantly surprised.  And then Tuesday I got wasted during the day which was a lot of fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving was fine.  I had to work.  I was surprised that He Who Shall Not Be Named didn't at least text-message me.  But oh well right?  It feels like it's time to move on from that.  It's just hard.  I have a post in draft about him.  Maybe I'll finish it tomorrow.  It's sort of therapeutic to write in a way.  That's all for today.  I enjoyed reading everyone's elses blogs throught the week!  That darn Google Reader is killing me!  I swear reading blogs is now like my second hobby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-6960903340417096218?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6960903340417096218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=6960903340417096218' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/6960903340417096218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/6960903340417096218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/catching-up.html' title='Catching Up'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-8713326579192655083</id><published>2008-11-26T12:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T13:08:54.149-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drunky'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Co-worker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Texting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Professor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fuck This'/><title type='text'>Rain And Weekend Update</title><content type='html'>It's raining here...something that typically doesn't happen in the desert. I don't know why this morning I thought about He Who Shall Not Be Named. Maybe because the thought of staying in with him while it was raining seemed so ideal. I was thinking about the last time I saw him. He was putting on his brown pants and a white collar button-up and I just remembered looking at him wanting him to want me as much as I wanted him. So there's this morning, but the weekend and my days off (Monday/Tuesday) were super eventful. If there isn't a reason to read my blog, this post will surely bring some viewers :) Without further adu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday: I need another name for the personality that comes out when I start drinking. It is pretty scary to think that I almost always black out, but this night I was safe. I went over to Co-worker's house with a large bottle of wine, not the kind that only gives you 3/4 glasses. I drank half of this. I proceeded to tell Co-worker I want to be his personal stripper, give him a lap dance, have him cum on my face. I'm sure there was more and him telling me this was embarrassing, but what can I do? I don't even remember talking about this. Apparently we had sex on his couch and I got him off really quick with all my dirty talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday: The next morning (hello Saturday!) I had to work early, so I left. He wanted me to come back to the house after I went to work. It was nice, but also a little much. And on my 45 minute drive to my assignment, he called me and we talked almost the whole time, until I made some excuse that I was having trouble hearing him so I had to go. And then I went back and crawled in bed with him. I realized something coming back to his house Saturday night...actually I realized a lot of things.&lt;br /&gt;#1 Is it so bad that I think he takes too long to get off and I have learned exactly what sends him over the edge? And so I do this, just so it can be over because it's been over for me awhile ago.&lt;br /&gt;#2 I don't like the way he smells. His morning breath, the way his body smells when I wake up next to him.&lt;br /&gt;#3 He always walks me to the door the next morning and one time, I told him just to stay in bed. He said he would never do this because he thinks it is rude, and He Who Shall Not Be Named never walked me to the door and this made me feel like Co-worker was calling HWSNBN rude. To which I became defensive, like just stay in bed and leave me to walk out by myself without having to kiss you goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;#4 He's too nice and considerate. You don't really have to be that nice to your fuck buddy do you? I mean come on...the other night he couldn't sleep and asked if I would be upset if he went out and watched tv. Why would he even ask me that? Do what you f-ing want!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I even doing this? I need to end it seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings me to Sunday which was boring, but I need to preface my Monday post because this is the one that is going to make your hair stand on end. I even have an e-mail to accompany it with. A real one, that someone sent me, that I got this Wednesday morning when I showed up to work. In college, I sort of saw my professor. I had him for 2 classes, he was 49 at the time, now 51. I'm sure I have daddy issues but whatever. I thought he was cute and smart and something about the thought of having him bend me over the desk was exciting, even though nothing physical ever happened. One night I got really drunk and sent him a text message saying something about making my fantasy a reality. He was going to a town near me for Thanksgiving and invited me to come out there on my days off. Now I figured that if I decided I wanted to make something happen, I could. But remember, I have hung out with him only as friends so I couldn't imagine it being as awkward as it ended up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday: I leave Co-workers house, slightly wondering if our ex-coworker will be coming over to his house in my absence since he knows I'm going to hang out with The Professor. I drive to where Professor is. I hang out with him a little. We're telling stories. All of a sudden, out of the blue, he mentions the text message I sent him. I tell him I was drunk. He proceeds to try and hold my hand, touch my leg, even tries to kiss me. I am not liking this. I feel uncomfortable and all I can think about is how to get myself out of this situation. I tell him I want to take a nap, which I do, because I am now planning on driving back home and I don't want to fall asleep at the wheel. I wake up. I tell him that I wanted this on my terms, that I have to be in control, and he is making me feel uncomfortable. I tell him I am leaving, I am not attracted to him. He tells me good luck with my life and my career. (Side note: about 2 weeks ago he sent me flowers at work saying he was excited to see me). So that's where it ends or so I thought. This morning I get this e-mail, subject is good luck with everything:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to say a last goodbye here in this email. I didn't want to make an issue out of anything while you were here. You obviously were uncomfortable, and I think it was easier for you to get out of here as quickly and painlessly as possible.You made a comment out on the deck earlier about how you never made a reference to anything sexual because you were worrying that expressing an interest in someone can mess up a friendship. I suppose it can, but I think those sorts of things are manageable most of the time. What's not manageable is inconsistency. Being unreliable. Not being able to count on someone. We all owe it to the people we respect in our lives to let them know where we coming from. This is not about sleeping together, it's about being at least a little bit predictable. I not disappointed over losing a couple of fun days that have been planned since god-knows-when and have been the subject of weekly conversation for quite awhile now. I'm disappointed because what I thought was a very nice friendship gets vaporized because of . . . well, I don't exactly know how to say it. But if you don't owe it to yourself to know where you are with the people in your life, what you want and how you feel, you owe it to the people around you. I have more good friends than anyone I know. Several your age and even younger. None of them would allow a scene like the one you created today to be created. Sorry, if this makes you feel awful. If you do, it won't last. But you need to know why I have sort of a one-strike-and-you're-out policy over crap like this. I'm momentarily disappointed in losing a lover. I am much more disappointed in losing a friend.I do hope your career and everything else goes well for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow..ok first of all we have not been talking about this for weeks buddy. You have mentioned it. I was excited to see him because he helped me with my career, not because I wanted to sleep with him. I realized that a drunken text gave him the wrong idea, but never again did I mention that and I even asked if the place he was staying had a seperate bed for me. He should not be blaming me for any kind of scene. I felt uncomfortable. I left. I got myself out of a bad scene. He should be thanking me that I didn't let his little hard-on continue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what I plan to write back:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why you are talking about counting on someone. You shouldn't have been counting on me to sleep with you. The friendship didn't have to get vaporized. It only did because my unattraction to you made you angry, and me uncomfortable. I'm confused as to what scene you are referencing? None of this makes me feel awful at all. If anything, it is dissapointing that even as men age, they still stay just as stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now before I hit send, your comments...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And more on Co-worker hooking up with ex-coworker and Tuesdays events later. This is already a lot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-8713326579192655083?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/8713326579192655083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=8713326579192655083' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/8713326579192655083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/8713326579192655083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/rain-and-weekend-update.html' title='Rain And Weekend Update'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-2217376583363859832</id><published>2008-11-21T13:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T13:57:48.601-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drunky'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Co-worker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Getting It On'/><title type='text'>Drunkenness</title><content type='html'>Ever wake up in the morning with that feeling like what the hell happened last night, and whose bed am I in?  Turned out I was in Co-worker's bed (thank goodness) and got really drunk last night.  Good times!  I don't remember that much, except driving to Co-worker's house after the bar, although technically I don't remember the drive just getting there.  I remember showing up at his house and he was watching The Office and I might have said marry me because I love that show.  My clothes came off in the living room and this morning when I woke up I felt like the sex was really good last night.  We've only slept together a handful of times, but it was starting to get a little boring, like the same thing every night.  It did not feel like that last night at all!  I'm a total black-out drunk, regardless of if I've had 2 drinks or 9 so the fact that I remember anything last night deserves a pat on the back.  Hope the weekend is as fun as I remembered last night to be :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Co-worker always walks me to the door when I am leaving.  He could just stay in bed, but he gets up, kisses me good-bye and generally asks me if he'll be seeing me later.  This morning he did not ask that, which could be because we work together tonight so of course he is going to see me, or because he is going to visit his girlfriend or whatever she is (the girl he used to date who worked with us, but moved).  Update on this situation later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-2217376583363859832?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2217376583363859832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=2217376583363859832' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/2217376583363859832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/2217376583363859832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/drunkenness.html' title='Drunkenness'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-1725030881641422239</id><published>2008-11-20T13:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T13:29:58.006-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drunky'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Roommates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Co-worker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Untouchable Face'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fuck This'/><title type='text'>Co-worker drama and other shit I don't need right now</title><content type='html'>So last night I'm driving home from work and Co-worker calls. He says he misses me in his bed (tell me something I don't know) and while that would make me swoon with any other guy, with him I envision the Wedding Crashers and Stage-5 Clinger.  I am still anticipating that we are going out tonight with his friend and I want to bring my roommate along.  Apparently, I wasn't really invited because he acts all confused.  He asked me what I was doing that night, he says he's getting drinks, I don't really remember him saying come with me, but that's the feeling I got ok?  So I told him to fuck off because he was acting really rude about it and I had him on speaker phone while my roommate and I were getting drunk on our porch.  She of course was not amused by his antics and neither was I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 bottles of wine later, I'm very tired and have had a drama filled evening, but not because of Co-worker, friend drama.  About 2 months ago, a friend I used to work with broke up with her boyfriend of 7 years.  She cheated on him, but he didn't know that until I told him and they both went their seperate ways.  I met the two of them together so I was friends with both of them.  Nicole stopped calling me and in my opinion, started being a really bad friend.  Dave kept calling me and our friendship continued while Nicole's and I did not, even though I had met her first but always knew her as a couple with Dave.  She just changed and started saying things like, "I think it's horrible if someone takes you on a date to a chain restaurant."  I guess I didn't realize how too cool for school she was.  Anyway, after her e-mailing me, texting me, and calling me at work repeatedly, I finally sent her an e-mail.  I also called her out on everything she lied about to me, because I really think the girl has a problem with lying.  She proceeded to text Dave while I was on the phone with him, accusing him of telling all her secrets, even though that's not how I found out she was lying.  It just turned in to a lot of drama that I really don't need, but put myself in the middle of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And being 3 bottles of wine deep between my roommate and I made me come up with the great idea to look at pictures of me and He Who Shall Not Be Named.  Seriously, my friends have said it but I agree with them: he is by far the hottest guy I have ever dated.  Ever heard that Ani DiFranco song Untouchable Face "He'll look like a photograph of himself taken from far, far away and you won't know what to do and you won't know what to say, except Fuck You!"  That's exactly how I feel with him...who was I to him?  And I am hoping that writing this will make me feel better and eventually get over this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to top that night off, this morning my roommate says, "I reset the tv."  I'm brushing my teeth, getting ready for work, I could care a less what he is doing with the tv.  But apparently his show did not record last night and this has left him very upset.  Seriously?  That is the reason for resetting the tv because your precious show did not record?  Unbelievable...how about you get upset about things that deserve it, like the fact that your house payment is way over due and you owe like 3 times it's worth.  Want to talk about that while I'm brushing my teeth I might listen!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-1725030881641422239?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1725030881641422239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=1725030881641422239' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/1725030881641422239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/1725030881641422239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/co-worker-drama-and-other-shit-i-dont.html' title='Co-worker drama and other shit I don&apos;t need right now'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-7358520850659043026</id><published>2008-11-19T17:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T18:07:05.721-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Co-worker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Texting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings Are So Overrated'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fuck This'/><title type='text'>Once Again</title><content type='html'>He Who Shall Not Be Named text messaged me AGAIN.  Why does he do this to me?  I'm not strong enough to be his occasional friend.  He did this last time he moved somewhere too.  Maybe he has few friends and thinks of me.  Maybe he hangs on to me for the same reason I hang on to him.  Maybe he doesn't give two shits about me and is bored.  I really don't know and I am so tired of guessing.  His birthday is next month.  I really really really want to ask what he's doing and suggest we do something,besides the fact I live 600 miles away, but I can't.  You know why I can't...besides the fact that in the past month we have only exchanged bodily fluids once (yeah, I went there) and 3 text messages, every girl he stops seeing longs for him.  I don't want to be that girl.  I want to be the one who moves on, says sayonara jackass, for so many reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was thinking about how one time at his house he tried to light these candles above the bed, which I almost called our bed (woah), and he was having trouble and he said, "Damn romance candles."  I don't know why I thought about that, but for some reason, small things like that make me miss him.  But he wasn't crazy about me, and I found out he was still talking to his ex, and I felt like I couldn't always be myself around him...I mean there's a laundry lists of reasons why I shouldn't still be thinking about him.  You know, initially today I wanted to talk about cyber-stalking, but I think I'll save that for tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Co-worker wants to go out tonight.  This guy he knows wants to take him out for drinks because he is leaving soon and he invited me to go with him.  This should be fun, expecially since co-worker gets jealous and this other guy is single.  Nothing wrong with flirting, especially so co-worker understands this is sex only and nothing more.  Leave the feelings at the door buddy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-7358520850659043026?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7358520850659043026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=7358520850659043026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/7358520850659043026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/7358520850659043026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/once-again.html' title='Once Again'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-11912135187977154</id><published>2008-11-18T21:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T21:39:58.189-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Texting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings Are So Overrated'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>Unexpected Text Message</title><content type='html'>I deleted his number.  Of course, I still know his area code, just in case he creeps back in.  Tonight, he did.  I got a text message from He Who Shall Not Be Named asking me how goes it?  Hmmm...how goes it?  Last month, you came into town and I slept with you.  I don't know why I thought anything would be different because it's been a month since I've heard from you.  And before we slept together last month, several months since you called me.  I tried to cut him off, but he's that guy for me...the one you can't get away from, still think about, wonder what if?  Does everyone have a person like this in their lives?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have come to learn via text with He Who Shall Not Be Named that he is now living in a city I would love to be living in.  I finally said outloud today something I think about all the time.  I hope that in several years we will run into one another again and will be together.  Maybe it's wishful thinking, but there is just something about him.  For some reason I can't get away from him, no matter how much I want to or tell myself I want to.  Whatever the outcome, the text was nice to at least know he thinks about me randomly on this Tuesday, like how he creeps into my life everyday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-11912135187977154?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/11912135187977154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=11912135187977154' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/11912135187977154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/11912135187977154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/unexpected-text-message.html' title='Unexpected Text Message'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-503042299664339911.post-286286154241620682</id><published>2008-11-17T23:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T23:22:13.809-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Co-worker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Getting It On'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beginnings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He Who Shall Not Be Named'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>Getting Started</title><content type='html'>So my girlfriend and I originally started this blog as a way to talk with one another, and whoever else on the internet found themselves interested.  It didn't work too well and so I am starting over with the same name because I need a way to express myself and know I'm not the only one who has ever felt this way.  I'll eventually get to why I didn't save the older posts, but that has to do with He Who Shall Not Be Named and I'm not even ready to start with that.  More on the back story of everything later, but first, here's the current situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I work in media in a position where if anyone knew I wrote this, could get me in a little bit of trouble.  On top of this, I am sleeping with someone I work with.  He used to date someone else at work, but she moved away although things with them aren't completly over.  I really just view it as friends with benefits, but he has only slept with 3 people and I think he doesn't fully understand how things work.  The other day he got really drunk and let me know that he really, really likes me which freaked me out a little, but not enough to stop sleeping with him.  Sorry...the sex is way too good.  Last night, we're going at it and he tells me he wants to be the best lay I've ever had.  Instantly I think of the best lay I've had, which isn't him, but He Who Shall Not Be Named.  Now, I have my co-worker's dick inside me, which already probably isn't the best idea, and I'm thinking about the one guy I haven't been able to get over (despite us only dating for 2 months and having not been together for almost a year).  My head just wasn't mentally there so I told the co-worker that, minus the part about He Who Shall Not Be Named.  I felt a little bad, but at the same time, shouldn't I not have sex with someone when I'm thinking about someone else?  I'm thinking I made the right decision.  So co-worker leaves soon for another job and I'm hoping all this ends up working out ok.  But I guess I'll just have to wait and see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/503042299664339911-286286154241620682?l=famouslysingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/feeds/286286154241620682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=503042299664339911&amp;postID=286286154241620682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/286286154241620682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/503042299664339911/posts/default/286286154241620682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://famouslysingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/getting-started.html' title='Getting Started'/><author><name>Famously Single</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07676241898515413600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
