A Rough Week

Liz bemoans:

I met a cowboy in a Boss-Hog white hat on Saturday. He has called every day this week and, although we have yet to go out on a date, I'm ready to break it off. He's spent a lot of time talking about how much money he has and how big is truck is. His business card has red bull horns on it. He told me that he's had two people approach him and try to get him to go to Nashville and cut a CD. He sings karaoke every Tuesday. He also said he was in the rodeo for several years. OH! And my favorite- he goes by his initials... and his initials don't go together. He's not a JB or CJ or a DC. It's two weird initials that shouldn't stand next to each other like a GH or a TW or something screwed up like that.

See? SEE what I attract?

I am an environmentally conciencience animal rights lover that enjoys strolls on the beach and mountain sunsets. OK- that's not totally accurate, but it's close to all being true. What I am NOT is Tammy Wynett. I'm not a woman who will believe you when you tell her that you make $400k a year- 10 minutes into the first conversation. I've never been married. He's had two wives. The people at work are encouraging me to go out with him. I figure for one of two reasons. Either: 1. They want the story that will spring from a night of Liz out with QE or 2. They hate me. I think that I'm too pure and untainted for this wicked game. Plus, isn't it just stupid to get on ship that you know will sink?

It's been a very long week. I came in tonight and left the back door open so that the breeze could dance through the house and I could catch a few afterwork zzzz's. I was almost asleep when I was jolted into sobriety by a tongue in my mouth. The TONGUE of a STRANGE DOG that had wandered off the street and into my den. I got French kissed by a stray.

Killer, I wish as much for you on your vacation.