Tall, Dark and Handsome

Saturday morning I woke up in the rigamortus position, fully clothed as I mentioned before, new lip-gloss smeared across my face. I looked at the clock and before I could take it in, my head screamed. I swear, I’ve never had a headache like the headache I woke up with. I quickly replayed Friday nights details over in my mind and realized that not only had I drunk way more than was necessary/humanly possible, I hadn’t eaten dinner. Huge mistake. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and glanced through my window/wall into Nate’s room. Good to see that he too, was passed out, clothes on, rigamortus having set in around 3am. I needed coffee and I needed it now. I had a lot to do if I was going to make it to this wedding in one piece. I removed last nights camouflage, jewelry, outfit, etc, threw on some yoga pants and a tank top and started to chew on a piece of bread. I walked/staggered to Starbucks (I have a gift card) where I grumbled my order and then cut across the street to the tanning salon. ‘That’s exactly what I need, a tan to go with my dress and to put me in a good mood’ I told myself. Without a doubt I always come out of the tanning bed dancing and smiling. God bless Vitamin A.
A quick nod to the hottie McHot-Hot behind the counter and I was in the stand-up bed smiling into the lamps. I came out in an instantly better mood, although the headache pounded harder. I said thanks, Mr. Hot Pants said ‘aww sweetie it sounds like you’re getting a cold’. I looked at him, smirked and replied ‘Actually I’m getting a hangover’ to which everyone laughed and my head pounded harder.
I returned home to find Nate up and bouncing around. Obviously the evening’s effects were being felt more severely by the lady of the house rather than the queen. Asshole.
I quickly showered and raced around the corner for my hair appointment. Uneventful. But I did come away quite fabulous if I do say so myself. I walked home and quickly put on the new dress, new accessories, and of course the new shoes (after wiping last nights spilt drinks off of them of course).
Jumped in the car and was ready to roll. Following the BGFF’s directions I figured I’d have no problems. Where this assumption came from I have no idea. Since, every time he gives me directions, they’re always ‘really easy’ and always end up ‘really wrong’. So I missed the wedding. I snuck into the back of the church as they were signing the license. When the wedding ended two minutes later, I met up with the BGFF outside and we laughed about his directions. I said hello to his sister who is 8 months pregnant (hello shotgun) and we quickly piled into our cars and headed for a beer. A few drinks later and we were laughing and joking and happy to have been reunited (he’s been away on his training for a month now) until suddenly the BGFF realized he was supposed to have reported for pictures. I swear, the boy can remember everything that Mariah Carey has ever written, worn or said but doesn’t remember that he’s supposed to be in his sisters wedding pictures!?
So we raced to the reception where I promptly ditched him in favour of his cousin and the open bar.
That’s when things got interesting. Three boys from my past.
Basically to recap my history with these boys; over a year ago I attended a house party in the country somewhere for BGFF’s sister. Beginning of the night I’m crushing big time on tall dark handsome shy boy A fending off advances and flirtation from somewhat attractive boy B who lives with his parents (kiss of death) and boy C who is Boy A’s younger (still in school) brother. As the night progresses the BGFF keeps medaling. He says at one point to Boy A, ‘just get wasted if you’re too shy to talk to her’ and at another to Boy B ‘She thinks Boy A is super hot, she’s not interested’. As the night goes on and Boy A has yet to speak to me and Boy B is starting to become offended I finally approach Boy A. He’s completely drunk and tries to make out with me. Then pukes. I end up putting him to bed and his brother Boy C tries to once again pick me up while we clean up the puke. Yuck. Boy B unbeknown to be has witnessed the drunken attempted kiss with Boy A and retreats to his corner. Party ends with me talking all night to Boy C about his college ambitions.
Ok, so back to the wedding. All three boys are there. Boy B walks straight up to and says ‘I remember you’. The evening comes flooding back to me so fast that I say nothing and he walks away. Later I walk out to use the ladies and run into all three standing together. I play it cool, again totally thrown by Boy A’s good, good looks. And is it just me or is he somehow more confident and less shy. The way he’s looking at me… mmmm… Boy A says ‘So do you remember us all now’. I say ‘how could I forget, I cleaned up puke that night. It’s a night to remember’. Everyone laughs. Boy A goes red. We all file in to eat. As I pretend to listen to the speech’s I catch winks from Boy B twice (he’s in the wedding party and so the BGFF tells me – still living with his parents) and nervous glances from Boy A. Yummy. The speech’s end and the dances start. Boring. I slip out a few times for cigarette’s and bathroom breaks hoping that Boy A will take the cue and follow me. But alas he is too shy.
The BGFF finds me, crying, it’s 9pm already and little miss Cinderella must race out to catch a flight back to flight attendant training and apparently I’m the fairy godmother that has to get him there. Son of a… I run to get the car as the BGFF races out with his bag, bawling. He gets in and tells me of his run in with Boy A who grabbed him inside to stop him from running and asked ‘where are you guys going?’ clearly disappointed that he’d missed his opportunity to talk to me again.
The BGFF has arranged an email swap… yummy… I knew I loved the new dress…
After a swing and drop at the airport, I was back at my apartment, cozy in my chaise, sipping wine and daydreaming of a boy with Boy A’s good looks and Boy B’s racy personality.
No one dreams like JASG…