You have two chances…

… slim and none.

Dinner and cocktails at my Friday night spot started a weekend that I could hardly wait to embrace. I had high hopes of just escaping everything. I looked forward to taking time to breath before returning home to Oregon. Ptown will be utterly awesome… seeing those that I have truly missed, cramming as much as I possibly can into a limited time, and festivities of four days bleeding into one another. But I just felt the need to breath prior to the fun.

I had a weird feeling Friday night as we waited to be seated, like maybe I was going to see The Man. His best friend informed last week that he had returned home after nearly a month out of the country, and I know that he spends his weekends in my town (okay, maybe not my town, but the town I live in). Of course as I was feeling great and looked attention worthy (love that booby shirt), Murphy’s Law was bound to prevail, and I didn’t run into him.

Saturday morning brunch and mimosas were an amazing (and, lets face it, typical) way to begin the weekend. I cried out to LaLo, “This is the last Saturday of my twenties!” excited to celebrate an end of yet another era of my life. We read the paper, I chatted on the phone and looked forward to the Ducks game later that afternoon against USC. One of the announcers said during the College Pre-Game show, “Oregon has two chances against USC… slim and none.” Ouch.

Planning on getting afternoon pedi’s and then settling down to watch our team get raped, we went home, each leaving to get ready in our respective apartments. Stepping out of the shower I saw LJ looking at her internet dating perspectives with two of her girlfriends, who were staying at our house for the weekend. I joined them and as we leaned over the computer LJ’s friend, A, looked at me and said, “Oh, did we tell you we saw The Man on a date last night?”

Now, I try to act cool at all times, like nothing ruffles my feathers. This becomes a bit more difficult with morning mimosas consumed…

“Really...”

“Oh, yeah. She was in her forties, and it completely looked like an internet date. They hardly seemed to talk and they looked awkward the entire time. LJ went over and talked to him a couple of times.”

To be honest I can’t fully remember what was said next… I do know that I ducked out and slipped into my bedroom. I am over The Man. I truly am. I have no desire to go out with him or to hang with him anymore. This I absolutely assure you. Having said that, I wanted to be the one to go out on a date first. I wanted to be seen out and about having a great time. I wanted to be the one appearing desirable by others.

I am sure that running into my roommate and her friends was not the easiest way to be on any date. But this town is small. We will run into one another. I just hate the fact that when it does occur, it will be some day that I have been running errands, have no make-up on and my hair pulled into ponytail. I actually just described how I look today. Great, I’ll look forward to running into him on my way home.

So instead of the celebratory manner I had planned to spend the last Saturday of my twenties, I changed the agenda and consumed a few more libations. I shed a tear at the fact that an unknown woman seemed more compelling to go out with than me, someone known and at one time was told loved. I had a mini pity party at the woes of my life, and dialed a friend for support… for a friend in need…

I, however, accidentally called a friend of my parents by unknowingly hitting send on the wrong name in my phone. I proceeded to talk with this woman for five minutes (okay maybe it was just a minute or two, but it seemed like an hour), thinking it was someone else. I shudder at the thought of everything I said prior to her saying, “Um OCG, do you know who you’re talking to?” Fuck. She reminded me that she’ll see me this upcoming weekend for my birthday. Great, of course she will… of course she will.

The evening arrived, LJ’s party began, and I decided nothing sounded more satisfying than a warm bath. Knowing that I couldn’t take one at my house in the middle of a party I decided I just needed a hotel room for the evening. Feeling like friggin’ Mary mother of God, I found that no rooms were available in town. Returning home and heading to LaLo’s we finally found one room for $750 for the evening. Seriously? For a warm bath? Thanks, no.

I laid low for the remainder of the weekend, enjoying an empty house and thus the ability to watch alternately Sunday Football and the Real World Austin marathon to the complaint of no one. The evening ended fabulously last night with the season premier of Desperate Housewives, and even better... Grey’s Anatomy.

Life isn’t bad. This last weekend of my twenties reminded me that humility can sometimes be a good thing. And more importantly when feeling slightly emo or buzzed to double check the number I am frantically hitting “send” to, lest I have to embarrassingly apologize to a woman I hadn’t (until this weekend) spoken to in years at my own birthday party.