Now THAT'S a weekend

I ventured into the world of matchmaking. Now, if any of you have ever tried this, you might realize that it can have some disastrous consequences. Including the friend you set up never letting you live down the fact her date wouldn't use a port-o-potty because a midget might pop out of it rather than simply saying "the line was too long." I don't know about you, but I think that is a fine selling point. You know, one of those things that makes you want to get hit by a bus.

So a couple weeks ago I was hanging out at my friend Bryan's place doing some drinking and playing some Grand Theft Auto 4, the combination of which is the only acceptable form of drinking and driving. Eventually the subject of relationships and his lack thereof arose and me being the person who is always up for creating the most awkward situations imaginable, decided to call up my friend Michelle and let them chat. Numbers were exchanged, but no phone calls were made for about a week. All hope seemed lost and again I was a matchmaking failure, though this time minus the toilet midget, which does speak of improvement.

But then something happened! Phone calls were made. Two hour phone calls, in fact. Soon, Bryan was on his way to Houston for the weekend in order to meet Michelle. What could go wrong, right?

Wait, nothing really did go wrong. After a few drinks, a good sports bar, and fun adventures around Clear Lake, we all ended up on Michelle's back porch where they eventually decided they were dating. They also decided that I was WAY too proud of myself for actually making a successful match. But really, can you blame me? When the best you've ever produced before involves a failed joke about a port-o-potty, you can be damn sure that I was going to be a little proud of myself.

But don't worry. I'm sure this was just my one. From now on I'm probably back to giving some of my best friends some of the most uncomfortable nights of their lives. At least we can laugh about it later, right?

What?

Yes, I am well aware my last post is 6 days shy of being exactly 11 months ago. I digress.

I'm currently sitting upstairs in the game room of my family's house in Houston begging the digital cable to produce something that I actually want to watch. I am fairly certain that sports center will start being a rerun for the rest of the night in a few minutes and there are only so many times I can watch the same sports highlights. Had you known me when I was ten, you would not believe this, as I was the girl watching the Weather Channel on loop constantly. For two years. It's amazing that the local temperature manages to stay constant over the course of ten minutes when the next local forecast comes on. And it's amazing it took me two years to figure this out. When they changed the formatting of the Local Forecast, I was devastated. It was like the Weather Channel dumped me for some fancy formatting with which I was unfamiliar. And I was left wondering where the barometric pressure had gone...

Here I am fourteen years later watching my second helping of Spurs highlights. And no, the outcome of the game will not magically change. But as I said, I am in Houston. While it is a huge city, it helps a lot to have the income to go out and have fun. And this is an income that I just don't have at the moment. SO, here I am, with sports center as my constant companion. There goes Tim Duncan. Again. In fact, I would probably be better off in bed. I'll do that...