Come Monday...

And I'm still alive...thank goodness.

This weekend was full of great events! Friday night was three close friend's birthday parties. I started my night at a house party followed by Barcadia followed by the Black Friar and ended at Social House. You'll be really proud of me; I didn't drink Friday night!!! I was all in all well behaved and composed. Not to mention I looked super cute.


Saturday night: So, one of my closest childhood girlfriends, "Pam" was in town from Washington, D.C. We decided to do a girls night out, which included dinner at Villa-O, pre partying at a friend's place downtown, and then getting a table at one of the clubs at Main. It ended up not being a just a girls night and we met up with all of our other friends (from the pre party) and some extras.


The funny thing is, there's a guy we'll call Chicago (he went to school up there) who came to hang out with me and my friends (by himself)! I'm not sure if I should be wary of this or excited, considering he had no other reason besides the fact that one of his close friends is a bartender at this venue and... me. Ahhhhh! Well, he's super cute, and we met in August at PM Lounge and since then there's been mild flirtation, but we've never really hung out outside of the Dallas club scene. I wasn't out of control Saturday night, so I didn't embarrass myself! He texted me on Sunday...hopefully we will meet again soon.


I'm one step closer to either getting over Sam or falling completely back in love with the guy...

Roly Doodle

As I sit here the morning after a hectic day and night, I can honestly say I think I have problems. I'm not a bad person by any means; most would categorize me to just be zealous or simply enthusiastic, but those that don't know me think I'm just wild and crazy (which is partly true). I'm not implying that this is necessarily a bad thing; however, in this case when drugs are involved...things always get ummm...a little shady.


So, I decided to go to Club (insert random number here) last night where a world famous DJ was spinning, and in a drunken mess, I decide it would be a good idea to take a tab of ecstasy (for the first time in my life). The music was intense and the people were well...crazy. I loved it. Contrary to popular belief, I did not enjoy being touched. Anytime anyone came near me, I shrugged them off. Who knows what my deal was? Nevertheless, it was nuts. The music just kept going and I didn't sleep at all last night, but I figure it's a one time experience and I had to live it up. I woke up this morning with techno still buzzing in my ears. It was a strange experience.


I always told my ex fiance (Sam) that I wanted the first time I tried it to be with him. So it comes to no surprise that I DIDN'T tell him about what I did last night and instead, wrote him a long text message in my emotional, drug-induced state about how I know I messed up. I really did and I genuinely miss the kid. I wish we could go back to the way we were when we were both poor college students. We were so appreciative of the smaller things and now it's just become all about "what have you done for me, lately?" A relationship shouldn't be like that. I truly believe that the Sam I fell in love with is still in there somewhere. He's my rock and I don't want to lose him. I can't. =(


So back to last night, Halloween guy was there...with another girl who was NOT his ex wife, by the way. JACKASS; he totally lied to me about "wanting to work it out with his ex wife." I said hello and was cordial to him, but that's it. I strategically avoided him unless I was dancing; because I consider myself a good dancer and I wanted to show him what he was missing. Anyway, the girl was some lady from New Orleans that had crows feet (yes I notice EVERYTHING) and she probably had one too many vodka/hatorades that night, because she did not like me. At all. And it's understood why...because I'm way better than her. No contest. Not to mention, I looked super cute and classy and she was wearing this trashy pair of overflared denim and a black long sleeved top that showed her midriff. Circa 1991. Go back where you came from, lady...the Salvation Army.


At the end of the night, my girlfriend (Andy) drove me to her place while I continued to internally freak out with what was going on with my body. I'm quite lucky to have friends that take care of me when I'm so careless myself. I really need to start paying attention to my surroundings because it can get scary sometimes especially at a sketch place like One where the jeans are tight on both the men and women. Yikes. Everything was spinning and tingling thought and I started to feel sick. Luckily, I didn't puke, but I did need to get somewhere peaceful where I could sit and just relax. I probably drank like 10 gallons of water last night and as a result, had to pee every 10 minutes. That was my night. I only got an hour of sleep because Andy and I stayed up talking until 5:30 in the morning. What a fantastic, crazy, substance abusive weekend it was! (ahem)




Ciao loves!


Ana

Homecoming on the Boulevard...No, really.

SMU's homecoming tailgate should have is it's very own fashion week, or day, in this case. It's where the boys put on their very best seersuckers and the girls put on their homecoming dresses. No, really. I'm talking the works: gold sequins, liquid leggings, heels, boots, fancy head pieces, whoa. It was definitely a colorful day on the boulevard.

I never thought I'd see the day where a woman can actually walk in the grass wearing a Christian Lacroix stilleto heeled shoe. It happens at SMU folks and I like it. Elite Dallasites go to SMU's homecoming events to see and be seen in their best, of course.

My weekend was the most "low key but not" weekend ever. I haven't been able to control my liquor intake like this in a while. Friday night was Elise's birthday party we went to dinner and then to McKinney Avenue Tavern for karaoke which was a lot of fun. Then, we ended the night at PM Lounge which was the same crowd.


I did, however, run into an old make out buddy of mine, who is also a family friend (which is totally weird, I know). We made out...again and again...and he actually tried taking me home. Too bad, buddy, I'm just about done with men. I don't think I can handle them any longer. During the day on Saturday was obviously SMU's homecoming and afterwards I went over to my friends very trendy downtown apartment (we will call this man the Britisher) and had a few drinks followed by a long night out. The Britisher and I are good friends and JUST friends (thank God for that) and we decided to meet up another friend, the Mexican and his girlfriend. The Mexican is best friends with Halloween guy and was telling me how he knew he was still in love with his ex wife. Is it bad that I wish she didn't exist? I don't know why I'm still so caught up about this- maybe it's because this is the first time I've ever been rejected. He was such a smooth talker and I should have seen the red flags all over that shit. Ok, enough about him...


It's Friday again and I'm ready for this weekend. I went out last night with my boss and his girlfriend, who is also my close girlfriends and got smashed. Needless to say, I woke up in his bed with his dog gnawing away at my ankle. Stupid weiner dog. I hate that thing...


Yay for Kaskade tomorrow! I'll be there!



Love,


Ana

There's always relationship drama

Well, I guess I should start by explaining my entire situation here. I was engaged last year for just a few months and we broke it off mutually at the beginning of this year. My confession: I was secretly seeing this guy from work a little before we officially broke it off. The version I told my friends and family is totally untrue and makes my ex fiance look like the bad guy and in all honesty; I think I screwed it up for myself and I'm starting to realize it now. We dated for almost four years and things just got so complicated that I couldn't imagine myself marrying anybody at that moment because I wanted to be single and free. Because of family ideals and tradition, my parents were pressing the issue of a "commitment" and I knew I wasn't ready. So I started forcing the issue of marriage with him for an opposite reaction. It's like training a two year old kid or even a puppy dog. You tell them you want one thing and then just expect the opposite to actually occur. I kept pushing Sam about getting me my ring and setting a date so he chickened out. Thank goodness. When I broke it off with him, I was like, "Listen Sam, you're not ready for marriage and I am." Lies. I know I'm a horrible person. I began semi openly dating this guy from work (obviously it remained confidential from those at work that I had come to be good friends with) and things are really great...especially the sex. For a white boy, I was pretty impressed by his ability to work it out in the sheets. In any event, that relationship goes awry because he was so obviously a rebound from my fiance because the sex with the ex had been nearly nonexistent for the past year of our long distance relationship. Long story short, I get bored of the guy from work because of his clingyness and craziness (in the meantime my ex has gone semi crazy as well and continues to blow up my phone weekly) and decide to call it all quits. Not to mention, the guy from work admits that he's bipolar and that explains all of his extreme behaviors. I've finally given up. Where do I find these nut jobs from and why are they attracted to me? Do I give off the I'm looking for crazy vibe? Eh, probably so. Again, I admit fault for everything. Until recently, meaning this past halloween weekend, I have been single and made it a point to stay away from guys- minus the random make out sessions I had with guys in bars and clubs. Yup, that's me. I'm that girl that can be caught red-handed making out with some rando in the corner of Suite, Aura, PM Lounge, or The Bank. Oops sorry ladies, especially if one of those guys is your boyfriend. I didn't mean to and probably don't even remember his name. You can have him back. This past weekend, I obviously put on my sluttiest gear ever and went out with some friends and met this perfect guy at a pre-loft party before we went out on Main Street. The only imperfect part about him was that he just got divorced about a year ago. He was attractive, successful, and everything else that I thought I wanted besides that one little glitch in his past. I've always been the kind to not focus on the past though, because I would hate if someone held mine against me. I stayed over at his place that night and we just made out and DIDN'T have sex (still trying to figure out if this was because I was on my period or because I genuinely liked the guy and wanted to wait it out for a while). We talked until 5 in the morning and the next day we went to brunch with some friends and spent the entire day together. The entire time we spent together, he was telling me how perfect, amazing, pretty, sweet, and intelligent I am, and asks me out the following week on a date. He even went to the extent of writing out a fake marriage certificate and making me sign it. I was wasted and at the time and it seemed like a good enough idea. I'm in a mid-20's single gal, and this guy was putting it on strong. We make plans for a Thursday night dinner and a movie, and I am surprisingly really starting to like the guy. I clearly fall in love way too fast. Again, on Saturday evening I go back to my place and put on some new slutty gear and we ventured out to some of the bars and ultralounges on Main st. After that, ten of us decided to pack into a van cab and go to some of the bars on McKinney Avenue, where his ex wife was as well (oops). I didn't say anything because I don't care to make a fuss about something that isn't in my control and he ends up disappearing half of the night with the lady. Somehow though, I'm not sure how- I end up in his bed at the end of the night. I leave his place around eleven after a hardcore makeout and dry hump session and get a text message five hours later on how he is planning on getting back together with his ex wife. He apologizes and "doesn't know how to say this." So instead, he texts me and I'm back to square one and I have to see the guy all the time because we have the same friends. AND he blocked me on Facebook, which is completely immature and uncalled for since he's the one that f*ed up. I understand, I get it; that's his wife and I'm cool with it...I would probably do the same thing in his situation, but grow a pair and get over yourself douchebag. You probably know who you are. The End.


Ciao,

Ana

Looney #1

My best friend and I were reflecting on another old friend of ours today and came to the immediate conclusion that she very well fell under the Looney category. We grew up with the girl and always knew she was a bit off, but never realized until recently that she actually belonged in a crazy house somewhere in North Korea, where she would be as far away from civilized people as possible. Natalie, as we'll call her, grew up in Highland Park and her father is a well known Cardiologist. Since dance lessons when we were about ten years old, Natalie was open about her father's extramarital affairs and had come to accept that her family just functioned a little different than every other girl's. In this case, I guess a little went a long way because as Natalie got older, my best friend, Elise and I began to notice how her behavior became more and more bizarre. Nat had a series of boyfriends from nerds that picked their boogers and ate them as a hobby, super church going yuppies, to bad boys that stabbed people for a wallet containing nothing more than a five dollar bill. Nonetheless, Nat blamed her relationship choices on her father's emotional and sometimes physical abuse. Yeah, yeah, I know; some of you actually feel sorry for the girl. We did too, until we tried being there for her in a positive way and she ended up breaking into her ex boyfriends mailbox and car while it was parked outside of church during a Sunday morning service. If you think that's crossing the line just wait...I'm getting there. A few months after this occurrence, she explains to us how her ex boyfriend, who just lost his parents in a car accident, would not return her calls or emails. Elise and I advise her to give him his space and leave the poor guy alone. Nat does the opposite and sends him naked pictures of herself. Why, you ask? We don't know either, but those pictures have ended up in more inboxes than trojan virus. The caketopper: Nat, Elise, and I graduate the same year from the same college and begin our professional careers. Nat breaks it to us that she's going to law school the very next semester and it's since been exactly four years and she still hasn't graduated. While Nat is in "law school," we continue to hang out and one day, Nat approaches Elise and I and asks us for a favor that ultimately brings us to a stifling revelation. Nat apparently had been hanging out with a girl named Sabrina who one day confronted her about her alleged law student status. Sabrina explained how her father was an assistant dean at the law school Nat attended, and had never heard of her before, which was nothing short of odd. As Nat attempted to defend her position, Sabrina comes across something that resembles a fake diploma on Nat's coffee table. In this instant, Sabrina storms out of the apartment threatening to report her to the school for fraud, which I'm not even sure is possible. As Nat was telling us the story, she told us that the fake diploma was for a friend of her's that was trying to get a job and Sabrina had no right coming into her apartment and accusing her of such nonsense. Nat wanted Elise and I to come up with a plan to sabotage Sabrina. Long story short, Nat has been faking the whole law school gig for the past four years and people are slowly starting to catch onto this girl's ridiculous, nonsensical games. Since we have discovered this for the past two years, Nat has been cut out of our lives completely. She hangs out with a girl that's literally slept with 65% of single men in Dallas and still runs around claiming she's in law school. The Law School Looney.




Love,

Ana

Googler Doodler?

Ahhhh, don't do it Ana; just don't. Ok what the hell- I'm doing it anyway. So, I caved today and Google stalked the hell out of that guy from this past weekend (halloween guy that got back wants to "work it out" with his ex wife). Because I feel as if I've been pushed over the edge this time with men, I wanted to know why I was so heartbroken over this one, dorky, overzealous guy. What made him different from all the rest of the guys I just walked out on without flinching? Google, my ladies, is brilliant. If you ever have your doubts about ANYBODY in this world, just google him and chances are you will find stuff that will either A)break your heart even more (i.e. if the guy has been an integral part of numerous charities around town, he plays in a blues band, or is the youngest M.D. on the board of a hospital) or B) turn you off, which is exactly what happened for me, thank goodness. I should start by saying that I was raised in Dallas, but I was born in Chicago, spent many of my adolescent years in San Diego and Los Angeles, and have family all over Europe and Africa. I'm a big city girl that constantly craves bright lights, dreams, and changes. For the past year, I have been having nightmares about tornadoes and tsunamis destroying my world. I would be standing on my balcony and a giant supercell would cave in over my head as if a twister would be born in my living room. Or, I would be standing on the beach outside of my brother's house, and a giant wave would try and engulf me. Some would argue and say it's just a symbol for my life swirling out of control, but I don't really care, they scare the shit out of me regardless of the reason. As a result, when I found out halloween guy used to be a storm chaser and used to be highly involved in his small town's chili cookoffs, I was immediately put off. No thank you, I'm a vegan and I obviously hate storms. So, is being a serial googler a good thing or a bad thing? Should we just naturally try to cross these small bumps in the road, or should we risk falling even harder? In this case, I was lucky. Now I have to go out and see him either tonight or tomorrow night. I'll probably be seeing him both. I'll let you know how it goes.


Love,

Ana

The Dallas Doodle: Beginnings

I'm a hybrid of sorts that hasn't quite grasped the importance of my own identity, but the little bits and pieces I have come to understand is revolved around those around me. Ironic, I know. Being a 20 something minority in one of the nation's most undermined pretentious cities has forced me to become a raging socialite that wakes up one too many times in unidentified beds. I come from a conservative and strict family that lives in the suburbs of Dallas not too far from my uptown apartment, and went to college at a private university in the heart of the city. I now live in downtown, work in the burbs, and waste my weekends away in a pointless, drunken binge. I'm the kind of girl that should probably be on the Dirty but has slipped through the cracks somehow, and should probably be dating an extremely wealthy socialite but hasn't quite reached that level of shallowness. You've probably seen my friends and I gallivanting through the streets of Dallas numerous times, bouncing around in our tight dresses and high heels. While I sound like I don't have any problems landing a dude and could very well be dating a wealthy socialite that hangs out at ZaZa, I really do want a fairy tale ending like every other girl. People have labeled my friends and I as gold diggers, but have failed to realize that each and every one of us is successful at our very own right. Each night that I go out and repeat the same process as the night before just seems to validate the theory that this city is growing and shrinking at the same damn time. In the spirit of moving forward, I'm going to share my experiences in this city in hopes that I can give those around me a laugh with my day to day shenanigans. For the sake of my lovely friends, I'll keep identities of those involved confidential.


Love,

Ana