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Posted on Jan 07, 2013 at 04:49 AM

"He looks Italian..."

Tara was the first to spot him when we left body pump tonight, with all due respect to her boyfriend whom she loves very much and never stops talking about. This guy was just made to be looked at and I had missed him entirely. That is the down side to being a dreamer. I sometimes walk into walls and pee myself.

I suppose I should elaborate…


It was a food porn kind of day, one that started with chicken and ended with Italian. Tara and I had gone for a short run before cooking lunch and making a "healthy eating" video. The run was just shy of two miles to “condition” ourselves for The White Elephant Race tomorrow. There hasn’t been a lot of running with the holidays and such, so both of us are a little worried about making it the full five miles. If I do recall, five miles is nothing, but the air was still warm the last time that memory was fresh. It was like a honeysuckle steam bath.


The two of us set out to run on new years day and the cold was cutting. I remember thinking, “Come on Amber, you can’t let the chick with cancer beat you.” Tara runs like a boxer, head slightly down like she’s about to dodge a punch mid stride. On this particular day she was just shy of my flank and pushing me to keep pace. My lungs were screaming and I could still hear her laughing at me. She started in the car, “Really Amber!! You packed condoms in your purse, but no asthma inhaler.” She thrust my mangled “Little Miss Naughty” bag back at me in mock disgust.


“Safety first, and sex before air??” I said the last part like a question because I was certain that I would need air long before I got to have sex again. I imagined myself turning purple in dual frustration. The condoms had been there for awhile. I bought them six months back after my friend Kim Ames grounded me from dating for two full months after I failed to insist on protection with The Italian Stallion. I tried to explain to her that the whole thing with him didn’t go down in a way that would allow that sort of thing, but she was adamant that I need to be more assertive and grounded me for bad behavior. I actually complied and didn’t see any one for two months, The Italian included, but that was mostly on the account that my entire body was covered in poison ivy blisters. I did have ONE last date after, which I don’t count because it was a disaster, with no part being sexual. I flew to Ohio to go on a date with a doctor that I met on millionaire match only to return with boils. He left me unattended and I decided to weed the grounds of his estate. Never mind the fact that he has a gardener. The doctor returned from his practice to find two giant wheel barrels full, and four sky high piles, of nearly four hours of my manual labor. If it looked like a weed I pulled it and I had no idea what I was yanking.


“WOW AMBER…,” he said with his hands on his hips, tipping his head slightly, “That looks great, but you do know that whole area is infested with poison ivy? My groundskeeper sprayed it a few weeks back. We were hoping to kill it before we tried to have it removed.”


I put the garden glove I was wearing to my mouth and yanked with my teeth, “I cooked you dinner…,” I said sheepishly as I tried to pretend like I wasn’t thinking about how f*cked I was, “Garlic roasted chicken basted in a basil butter with stuffing, corn on the cob, and fresh strawberry shortcake for dessert….”


The rash appeared nearly two weeks later spreading like crabs in a whore house. Around that same time I peed into a cup for my STD tests (which were clean) while inquiring on a remedy for poison ivy. Taking a break from dating seemed more than reasonable and I accepted my friend Kim’s grounding.

Fast Forward to TODAY…


Heidi Klein and Tara Rene Jones were egging me on. The three of stood just outside the door of the women’s locker room, door ajar, staring. He had his back to us and was bent in his workout. At first I didn’t think he was “that cute”, tipping my head much like the doctor had in Ohio. The lines of his body were cut lean, winding in happy trails along skin that was tight. The only thing missing were beads of sweat, but I wasn’t close enough to see the detail of that fantasy. I wanted to run over and spray him with mist.


“He looks Italian,” Tara said with one last glance as she moved on and into the women’s room.


“I like Italian,” I said as my eyes devoured him like meal. I nudged Heidi, “I want him. How do I get him?”


“Go over there and start working out on a machine next to him..” she nodded in his direction. He lifted his head and started to turn our way.


“I can’t,’ I said, suddenly spooked, slowly backing up as I continued, “Heidi Klein I wouldn’t even know what to do with him…. I could hurt myself seriously.’ I retreated into the locker room as she waived her arms at me in exasperation. “Seriously Amber that guy would totally go out with you!”


I brushed her off temporarily entering the sauna to escape. He was so attractive that it was unnerving and I found myself suddenly frantic, “Let me just ask his girlfriend if she minds if I borrow him for a few hours,” I said as I perched myself on the highest tier.


Heidi laughed easily, “I know right, more like girlfriend..ZZ”


“F*ck.. that could get tiring fast,” I said as I imagined the constant barrage of women. He is the kind of guy who will always be tempted, “I think that borrowing him would be the best course of action. Go out there and wrap him up for me will you.”


We were all laughing when we left the sauna, or at least I was, until Heidi decided that she would. My eyes turned to saucers when I realized that she was going to talk to him, my stomach dropped out from under me. “I can’t talk to him,” was the last thing I muttered as I ran out the door, leaving my protein shake I'd ordered without paying. Minutes later Heidi came out to the parking lot informing me of the good news, “He’s 39. He isn’t married, and he is hot!! I am giving him your number.” She ran past adding a slight roadblock, “He did say he is "mostly" single…..”


"Mostly single." And there it was..the c*ck block.


I always run into a wall right before I pee my pants. Heidi ran past me like there was still hope, my number in hand, “Are you coming?” She asked turning slightly.


“I can’t” I said as I crouched, “I am going to pee my pants. I am so freaking nervous that I just might pee myself…”


Heidi rolled her eyes at me, “Whatever Spaz, I’m giving him your number.”


I stood there, immobile, letting it soak in……

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The Life You Live is a CHOICE- I choose HAPPY :)
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Posted on Jan 10, 2013 at 07:56 PM

Quoting Dakota35:

You'll have to excuse me for being a little slow, but all I want to know, is that a before and after photo. 

You and Me both Dakota!

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Posted on Jan 08, 2013 at 11:10 AM

Hilarious Amber, I haven't laughed so hard in ages... So nice to read a blog that tells it straight from the hip! Go girl I love it!!!

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