Taming of the Zoo

Day 12 I’m Out

I tried my best and failed at my own test. It's back to the starting line for me, next time I'll keep away from that red, red wine.

Taming of the Zoo

Dating Sober: 30 Days of Milk, Bubbly Water and Diet Coke

A promise has been made but it will only take one drop of Old Milwaukee to break.

Taming of the Zoo

Stalking in This Economy

So I stalked a guy.

It wasn’t for very long, just a few blocks starting from the Barnes and Nobles on Reserve. I spotted him just as I was leaving, he was a few feet in front of me. The first thing I noticed was his hat, one of those old, brown bird hunting caps. As I followed his tall line down to the brown leather shoes I became more and more intrigued by this man. He had great man style (as in not metro) and he was at a book store.

Blog: taming of the zoo

Seeing the Sober Side of Missoula

“You want to go to Al’s and Vick’s?”
“Eh, I don’t know . . . ”
“My friends are having a party up the Rattlesnake, you want to go to that?”
“Well, I, I don’t think so.”
“Ok, well, do you want to go see a documentary at the film festival?”
“Yeah, sure, that sounds great.”

This past weekend I was refreshingly challenged by someone sober. A person I had known from the past, we first met up for coffee to rehash old times and catch up with new developments. He was cute, really cute. He had just moved back from Thailand, I’d just been there last spring. Our old buddy Artie had married that neurotic chick with a mini-spoon collection and Danny had not two, but three kids now.

Blog: taming of the zoo

Unattached at the Hip

I am unattached at the hip and that’s the way I like it.

Hips stay skinnier when unattached, they dance more and hit the gym regularly. Once the boyfriend is connected, signals of comfort are dispatched, snacks proliferate and Sunday mornings are spent in bed instead of on the usual long, slow run. The heft you burned off last summer starts to fluff up the love handles and suddenly, boom goes the dynamite, you’re back to the stretchy jeans.

I went on a First Night Friday date this weekend and it was enjoyable, you can’t really go wrong with entertainment gratis. Free beer. Free chocolate bark. Free art. Free tiny Irish dancers. It all combined into something very worthwhile.

Except for the guy, is he worth my while? More importantly, is he worth my waist?

Taming of the Zoo

Crush Collection: Keeping My Options Open

I've been back in Missoula for a few months now and my crush collection has grown to quite a number, most are innocent, a few only involve flirtatious texting, one is an old flame and depending upon which state you live in there is a certain hottie I may or may not be stalking.

There's my Scotty's Table Slave, Blue-Eyed Ski Bum, Mr. Funny Pants, Surprisingly Profound Handyman, Ex-Griz Football Player Boy and He Might Be Gay DJ. These are guys I see around Missoula, I know most of their names, but some I ogle from afar. Obviously, none are boyfriend material . . . yet.

Un caveat, Mr. Funny Pants isn't exactly a crush, he and I have a long-ish history together, but we are just not meant to be, yet we can't seem to let it go. I like to meet new people; he's intensely loyal to his old friends. I'm bossy, he's a pushover. Yes, we tell perverted jokes, find fancy cheese sticks with Perrier delicious and both give a sweltering lap dance. But is this enough to hold a relationship together?

Old flames die hard and I've been suffering through some cold nights lately so for now he's currently on my roster.