1. Poor Bastard sent me flowers yesterday. A big, beautiful, hand-delivered bouquet. I honestly don’t know how many more ways I can tell him we're never getting back together. I’m thinking about faking my death and starting a new life in Dubai. I’m not a fan of Middle Eastern food, but if this blog starts to show up in Arabic, you’ll know why. Asalamalakum, bitches.
2. Today I’m going on another perfect date, only this time it’s with my father. The only good thing about going on dates with your parents is that they’ll always pick up the check. And they won’t try to sleep with you afterwards. Make that two good things.
3. I’m going out tonight. Yep, here we go again. My first celibate weekend I did battle with Hot Dude and won. My second celibate weekend I surrendered to New Guy like the French surrender to…well, everyone. So that puts the score at Allie: 1 Temptation: 1. With my alcohol-impaired commitment to this project hanging in the balance, I really need a win. That means I can either:
A. Not drink.
B. Drink, but not talk to any boys.
C. Drink, talk to boys, but leave the bar with RK no matter how much fun I’m having.
D. Drink, talk to boys, and tell them all I’m a pregnant lesbian with herpes.
Ah, decisions, decisions. But I think I can do this. Fuck that I know I can do this.
Bring it, Temptation. You’re about to get served...if I don’t get overserved first.
xo
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