But I digress. The guy overheard this and apparently began the following exchange with Mr. CP:
"Have you seen Underworld?"
"The movie about vampires?"
"Yeah. I used to do that."
"Yeah. But I quit 'cause I wanted to start a family."
Apparently, Mr. Lonely is a retired vampire slayer (I thought they were always 16 year old girls - but that just proves I am a huge geek and anyone who knows exactly what I'm saying is, also) and is apparently looking for love in all the wrong places. Like at the B-Bar when I'm working. I have some standards, buddy. No shirt, no shoes, no service for drinks and no college degree, no motivation, no dates for relationships.
And speaking of politicians. I didn't see any today, but I did stop by Senator B's Juneau office today to chat with some of the staff. It was a nice little chat, talking about what I'm doing (I'm kind of like a lobbyist, but the poor grassroots kind) and what they are all doing. Tomorrow is an open house, which I'll be attending. I wonder if Senator B will be there as well... that would be pretty sweet.
And in other news, I survived being on the verge of death for the whole weekend plus some time and am now feeling much better. I was feeling terrible enough to want to kill people and so terrible even that I couldn't kill someone despite the desire. Tonight Mr. CP and I are going to have a fancy dinner, probably our last big night out before he ditches me to go back and finish law school and continue his life. You know how I mentioned getting soft? Well, I'll be stocking up on chocolate, pints of decadent ice cream, wine - maybe vodka - or whiskey - sobby romantic movies, whatever it is that girls use to cope with this crap. I'm not one to get heartbroken, but I am not going to leave things to chance. If I'm going to be a big ol' mess over a dude, I'm going to be prepared so I don't have to go to the market in sweats wearing giant sunglasses because my eyes are puffy and red. Especially since I ran out of contact lenses a year ago and if I wear my big sunglasses I'll be pretty much completely blind. Pair that with 'blind with grief' and I won't make it through the day. The headlines will read - Woman, 24, Blind with Grief, Actual Blindness, Struck by Tour Bus Full of Octogenarians.
Weird. I'm not 24 yet. I just called myself 24. I've got less than a month to go, but apparently I've adopted my new age prematurely because it's so juvenile to say that I'm 23 and 11/12ths. Hey, mid-twenties, nice to meet ya.