i’ll kill him.

I finally decided to just bite the bullet and get my car fixed so I dropped it off on Monday. They gave me a loaner car while my car is being worked on which probably isn’t the best idea on their part. Not complaining though.

After I dropped my car off I invited myself to Brady’s. I was so excited to see him and to see how his trip was. Brady opened the door (when is he just going to give me a key?) and pulled me into a hug.

“I missed you,” I said, hugging him.

“Me too,” he replied. He kissed me hard and then led me into the house. We went to the kitchen and got water then he sat down in front of his laptop in the dining room. Ugh.

“So how was your trip?” I asked, trying to hide my annoyance. We hadn’t seen each other in like three days, but he was completely engrossed in his stupid computer.

“I had a very good time. I haven’t visited Hunter in a while so I enjoyed seeing where he lives and meeting all his friends,” Brady said.

“Who did you meet?” My eyes lit up. I thought of the girl Hunter said he would be marrying, Dumb or whoever.

Brady looked up from the laptop at me. “I can’t remember. A bunch of guys.”

Oh. He totally thought I was being a jealous, psycho girlfriend and I wasn’t (this time.) I made him elaborate on the trip and he told me about the game and how they bar hopped and smoked hookah and etc. Typical shit.

I excitedly let him know that I “ran into” Jessica on Saturday night and he said, “I heard.”

Are you fucking kidding me? It’s one thing for her to brag about them talking, but now he was too? Cool. I decided to let this slide and dragged him to his room. We got undressed and I proceeded to fuck his brains out then fall asleep.

On Tuesday I was pretty busy working on projects at work, but I took a break midday to eat. Whitney and a gay guy from the ad team named Danny were standing at the sink talking, but stopped when I walked in.

“Hey Reese! I love your shoes! You always have the best shoes,” Whitney said, all syrupy sweet.

I smiled and said, “Thanks!”

Lately, Whitney and I have been getting along fine. She kind of does her own thing and I do mine and when we talk it’s pure business. She’s definitely more into the digital side of branding so it actually works out.

Whitney walked out and I said, “I don’t know why she’s being so nice lately.”

Danny shrugged and said, matter-of-factly, “Probably because she feels guilty about talking so much shit about you.”

My eyes narrowed. I knew I shouldn’t care or ask what she said, but I had to know. “What did she say?”

“A lot of stuff. She wants your job. She said you’re lazy and you’re going to get fired because you never do anything.”

Excuse me?

“And the only reason you didn’t get fired for supposedly hooking up with that BJ kid is because your mom is friends with Diana.”

That actually really pissed me off. First of all, I am not lazy. Of course I have my lazy days (we all do), but I’ve done so much for my company. I think I deserve a lazy day every once in a while. Secondly, I thought the whole BJ thing was behind us. Why is she bringing that up? I’ve moved on. Whatever.

I rolled my eyes and told Danny that I didn’t care even though I wanted to go immediately confront Whitney. I knew that wasn’t the smartest idea so I avoided her for the rest of the day.

After work, I went home and showered to get ready to go to a bar and grill with Brady and Chris because apparently there was some sort of game on. I told Brady about Whitney and her comments and of course, he took her side and said that being in a position of power, I shouldn’t ever let anyone see me being lazy. He doesn’t understand. Even when I’m being lazy, I’m doing work like replying to emails or getting on Pinterest for inspiration.

Whatever. I was sick of this conversation so I grabbed Brady’s hand under the table and pulled it into my lap. He looked at me kind of confused at first and then smiled when I slid his hand under my dress. He started rubbing my pussy and I bit my lip trying not to make any noise.

Our server came back and Brady quickly removed his hand and ordered us another beer. Ugh. He’s so not daring sometimes. We barely made it through another inning before we wanted to go back to his place to have sex.

On Wednesday I had some meetings outside of the office so luckily I didn’t really have to be around Whitney. I stayed in the office until 6:30 and I was supposed to meet Kendra for happy hour at 7:00. As I was packing up and getting ready to leave, she called me.

“I’m leaving right now. It’s only 6:30 you psycho,” I answered, thinking she was calling to see where I was.

“Can you come over here right now?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“Are you okay? Where are you?” I asked, concerned.

“I’m at home. Just please come over here,” she sniffled. She was clearly upset and crying.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” I promised and hung up. Naturally, I thought the worst like she had poked her eyeball out with her mascara or accidentally burned all her hair off with her straightener so I sped over.

Kendra answered the door still wearing her work suit, but her face was wet and streaky with tears.

“Ken, what’s wrong?” I asked automatically pulling her into a hug. I’ve only ever seen Kendra cry a handful of times and most recently it was because her grandfather died.

She hugged me back and then led me to the small living room without a word. Kendra sank into the couch and started bawling.

“Kendra, what’s wrong?” I asked, my concern growing. This was not like her at all.

She waited a few moments before sobbing, “John cheated on me in San Francisco.”

Wait, what?

“What? How do you know?” I gasped.

“I found a receipt. He bought condoms at a CVS on Saturday night. I confronted him and he admitted to having a one night stand. He fucked some random girl!”

Oh my God.

“Apparently they met at a bar and she invited him back to her place. He said he was really drunk, but that is hardly an excuse.”

You guys, John is the nerdiest guy ever. I find it very hard to believe that he could even flirt with a random girl enough for her to invite him home. And how dare John cheat on gorgeous, successful lawyer Kendra? She has always been too good for him. She made him everything he is today. Kendra literally gave him a chance (when she shouldn’t have) when he was obsessed and in love with her. After she let him move into her beautiful apartment and he ruined it with his bike and smelly belongings, he had the nerve to fucking cheat on her?

“I’ll kill him,” I said and I meant it.

Kendra started crying again and I hugged her hard. As much as we butt heads, Kendra is my best friend in the entire world and I will do anything to protect her.

“I can’t believe this. I didn’t think John was capable of doing anything like this,” I thought out loud.

“I didn’t either. I trusted him so much, Reese. I never thought I would have to worry about him cheating.”

John cheating on Kendra just shows that you can’t trust a guy just because he’s fucking lame. Like do all guys cheat?

“So where is he now?”

“He had to go back to work, but I told him he can’t come back here. I’m going to throw all his stuff in trash bags and leaving it outside.”

I couldn’t help kind of smirking at the thought of a bunch of trash bags sitting outside her gorgeous apartment.

“Kendra, I can’t fucking believe him. Did Brady and Chris know what happened?” I said.

“They did. They met the girl and everything.”

Wait so Brady knew John had sex with some random girl and failed to tell me that when I asked about his trip? Why wouldn’t he tell me? Does he have a secret about the trip too?

I let Kendra cry on my shoulder for the next few hours. I told her what an asshat I think John is and eventually she asked me to stop. And then she asked me to leave because she needed to be alone to bag up his shit. I told her that I thought I should stay and she insisted I leave. Which was rude, but I’ll overlook it. I needed to confront Brady anyway.

I called him and told him I was coming over. Brady answered the door and we hugged and kissed and he tried to walk back to the dining room, but I grabbed his hand. I pushed him onto the couch and straddled him. Brady smirked up at me, clearly into my little domineering act. I put my arms around his neck and kissed him making my way down to his throat. I could feel between my legs that he was getting excited and I can’t lie, I was to. But I was here on a mission.

I grabbed the top of his hair where it’s grown out a bit and yanked hard so that he was looking directly up at me. “Why didn’t you tell me John cheated on Kendra in San Francisco?”

Brady’s body kind of deflated and he looked down guiltily. He didn’t say anything for several seconds so I said, “Huh?”

“He asked me not to tell you. He wanted to tell Kendra on his own accord and I didn’t want to strip him of that opportunity. He knew you would tell her,” Brady said.

“Of course I would tell her! She’s my best fucking friend. Why would you choose John over me?”

Brady started to say, “He asked me-”

But I shouted, “Your loyalty is to me, not John! You wouldn’t even know him if it wasn’t for me.”

“I know. I just didn’t want you or me to get involved in their relationship. He deserved the right to tell her himself.”

“Do you know she found out because she found a condom receipt? That asshole wasn’t going to tell her!”

Brady didn’t say anything and I couldn’t help asking, “Did you hook up with someone too?”

He looked up at me, stunned. “Of course not. I can’t believe you would even ask me that.”

“You never know. Kendra didn’t think John would ever be capable of hooking up with someone else either.” I climbed off Brady’s lap and grabbed my bag to head to his room.

He continued sitting on the couch, looking at me. I shrugged and headed to his room to get ready for bed. Brady didn’t join me right away so I sent a really sweet text to Kendra letting her know that she’s beautiful and amazing and John sucks and etc. and that I was here for absolutely anything.

Brady finally came in his room and turned off the light and got in bed next to me. I grabbed his neck and started kissing him and he kissed me back for a few minutes before pulling away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about John,” he started.

I rolled my eyes.

“I understand that you think it was your right to know, but things aren’t always all about you.”

I started to say that it was my right to know, but Brady put a hand on the side of my face/in my hair and I knew he was about to say something life changing/important.

“I…love you,” he said.

My heart jumped up to my throat and I actually thought I was going to vomit. But not because I was grossed out or anything. Brady saying he loved me – completely sober and looking at me in the eye – was almost too much. But I felt it. I closed my eyes because I couldn’t handle all the love and eye contact.

“I love you too,” I said not looking at him.

We kissed and fell asleep without having sex or anything. Just so you guys know, the only other guy I thought I was in love with was my college ex. And I found out that that wasn’t love at all, it was totally lust. So I’m not even sure what love feels like. (I haven’t even told Kendra that I don’t know if I’ve ever been in love because she would just lecture me.)

dick sucking culprit.

I planned on staying in for the entire weekend so on Friday night I had Kendra over for movies and wine. A chill night was definitely needed and we just reminisced about the debauchery that was college.

On Saturday, I went shopping with Preston and Dillon in the afternoon. I didn’t really need anything, but I told them I would tag along for moral support. I ended up getting a multipurpose bag and a skirt.

That night Carly wanted to go out. I dragged my feet until 10:00 and then decided that fine, I would go out, but only for two hours.

We ended up at a bar not far from my apartment. The whole gang was there – Kendra, Carly, Preston, and me and Carly bought us a round of tequila shots. It was actually kind of nice to be out without the boys like old times. I feel like lately, Brady, Chris and John are omnipresent.

Carly and I ended up getting drunk before we even left the first bar because some things never change. We left the bar and went outside to find the next place to go. Directly across the street was a club/lounge and next door was another bar. I remember Jessica posting something on Facebook about going to the club/lounge for her friend’s birthday and since I was drunk, I thought it would be a good idea to go there. We weren’t really dressed to go to a club, but I had never talked to Jessica without Brady around and I wanted to. What were the chances of us being in the same vicinity at the same time? Like I said, I don’t believe in coincidences. It was meant to be.

I suggested we go across the street without telling any of them why and Kendra scrunched her nose. “No. Let’s just go to the bar.”

I grabbed Carly’s hand and ran into the street (in front of a cab who honked at us) and Kendra and Preston had no choice but follow. The place was huge and kind of empty and there were two floors, three separate bars and couches everywhere. The last time I was there, one of my friends had to be carried out by security because she blacked out. Good times.

We ran to one of the bars and ordered drinks. It was a whiskey bar which was annoying, but I got a whiskey sour. We took our drinks to the dance floor and danced to old ass 90’s music. I was on the lookout for Jessie and couldn’t wait to confront her. The place was really dark so I couldn’t really see anything so I decided to just drink and have fun instead.

Carly and I went to another bar and got some kind of delicious cucumber lime cocktail. We took our drinks to a couch and sat down to check our phones. Brady was keeping me in the loop about everything he was doing and I appreciated that. I made one of the guys sitting on the couch across from us take a picture of me and Carly to send to Brady. After that, we started talking to four kind of cute finance guys for a while. I made sure to talk about my boyfriend a lot since Carly thinks I’m a flirt.

We met back up with Kendra and Preston and decided to make our way to the next place since this place was dead. I had kind of forgotten about Jessica as we made our way outside. I almost squealed with delight when I saw her standing with the two door men and one of her bland friends. She was wearing a really tight dress and all I could think about was the fact that I have naked pictures of her saved in my phone.

“Oh my gosh, hi Jessica!” I said loudly because she hadn’t seen me yet. I also wanted to subtly let my friends know that this was the dick sucking culprit who had a thing for my boyfriend. None of them had met her or knew what she looked like except Kendra because I obviously showed Jessica’s nudes to her.

Jessica looked really taken aback to see me and took a look at my plaid shirt, jeans, and riding boots (told you we weren’t dressed for a club) before breaking into a huge smile.

“Hey Reese! How are you?” She pulled me into a really fake hug which I found offensive. I patted her back lightly in lieu of a hug. “You’re not in San Francisco with Brady?”

How did that bitch know where my boyfriend was?

“Uh, no, I don’t give a fuck about a baseball game. These are my friends, Carly, Kendra and Preston.”

Carly and Kendra shook Jessica’s hand and then Preston said, “How do you two know each other?”

“She works with Brady,” I informed him even though he obviously already knew.

“Oh. Ohhh. Nice to meet you, Jessica,” Preston said, shaking her hand.

“Wow so I can’t believe you didn’t want to go to the World Series,” Jessica said, smiling like a psychopath.

I guess I technically wasn’t invited and maybe she knew that and was throwing shade in my direction. I ignored her comment. I wanted to stay and interrogate her, but I also wanted her to know that I didn’t have time to waste talking to her so I said, “Well, we’re going to go inside to have fun somewhere. Bye!”

“Okay. See you around,” Jessica said in an almost sneaky kind of way.

“She’s definitely not as cute as you. She probably just gives really great head,” Preston said as we crossed the street.

I whacked his arm. “Preston!”

I know it wasn’t really the time since everyone was around, but I think Jessica should apologize to me. She knows that I don’t want her talking to Brady yet she continues being thirsty and throwing herself all over him.

After we hit up two or three more places, we headed back to Kendra’s to crash. As I was getting ready to fall asleep, I got a text from Brady that said, “We are going to another bar. I love you.”

I fell asleep before I could respond, but I was so excited when I read the message on Sunday morning. I’m sure he only said it because he was drunk, but I love that I have him saying he loves me in writing.

Spoiler alert: I didn’t see Brady last night so I didn’t make him dinner or anything, but maybe tonight or tomorrow night. Besides dinner, what other cute, not super sappy things can I do? I’ve cooked for him already and I’m not the Pioneer Woman anyway so I want to do something else.

would that be too thirsty?

I was still sick on Monday, but instead of staying home like a baby, I went to work and complained about how sick I felt all day. I was tired of feeling like shit so I took three Benadryl when I got off and then I passed out until 9:30 AM Tuesday morning. I woke up feeling like a new person so maybe I just needed sleep.

I felt bad about how I’ve been treating Brady lately so I made him pumpkin cupcakes after work on Tuesday. I know that baking treats doesn’t really mean anything, but I’m the least romantic person I know. Kendra says it makes me seem like a lesbian because I hate anything overly romantic or sappy and I definitely hate pet names. I have no idea what that has to do with lesbians though.

The recipe said it would take a little less than an hour, but it took me two tries and close to three hours. I swear, I know how to follow a recipe. I’m just lazy and try to take shortcuts. Brady obviously loved the cupcakes and thinks I’m some sort of baking wizard (lol).

I met up with Preston and Dillon after work on Wednesday and we got salads and martinis. Ever since Mr. Murphy got himself and Preston matching beach cruisers, Preston’s been keeping his distance. Apparently he hasn’t proposed his three way relationship idea to Murph yet so he’s keeping he and Dillion’s relationship on the down low for now.

“So you’re basically cheating on Mr. Murphy?” I asked.

Preston gasped, offended. “Of course not. What kind of person do you think I am?”

How could Mr. Murphy possibly believe that Preston and Dillon are “just friends” which is the story they’ve been telling him? They’re two young, hot gays, like of course they’re hooking up.

I went to Brady’s after that and we watched a baseball game with Chris in the basement. Well they watched while I looked up Halloween costumes. Preston and Dillon are doing coordinating Rocky Horror Picture Show costumes which kind of made me want to do a coordinating costume with Brady. But I can’t think of one that isn’t completely cheesy and makes me like some silly whipped girl who has to do everything with her boyfriend. Like Kendra. I bet they’re going to be Adam and Eve or something.

Thursday was a really dramatic day at work. One of the guys on the ad team got fired/arrested for stealing. A company was auditing our records from the past year and found out that he had been doing cash payouts for advertising materials, software and customer satisfaction. He admitted to taking the money for himself (which added up to be over $2,200). I felt kind of bad because I had absolutely no idea it was going on and I probably should’ve been paying more attention.

Tracey and Diana told him he was fired and let him go, but the police were waiting outside of the office to arrest him. What an idiot.

After work, I went to Brady’s. We hung out for a bit then I wanted a snack, but when I went to the kitchen there was literally no food in there. Well, nothing I wanted to eat so I demanded we go get groceries.

You really learn a lot about a person while grocery shopping with them. First of all, Brady is a picky eater which is just such a childish trait. He didn’t like anything I picked up, but couldn’t pick out anything for himself either. After thirty minutes, we only had a loaf of Italian bread in the shopping cart so I took control of the situation and just started getting things I wanted. We only spent $100 and I told him I would make dinner when we got back to his place. I didn’t, so we ended up eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and tortilla chips. It was disgusting.

So I probably won’t do anything this weekend except stay home and drink wine since my boyfriend is away. Maybe I can surprise him with something when he gets back?! Or would I look too thirsty if I did that?

i don’t believe in that kind of coincidence.

On Monday morning, Mark sent me a listing for an apartment I was actually really excited about. 700+ square feet, granite, stainless steel, balcony, one parking spot included. And best of all, it was within the budget Allison and I talked about. I immediately emailed him back and told him that I wanted to see it after work.

It turned out to be even better than the pictures and I wanted to move in immediately. Obviously I couldn’t and I would have to put an offer in and the seller would have to accept and then jump through a ton of other hoops before I would actually be able to move in. Buying a home is annoying.

After meeting with Mark, I went to the car dealership to get a quote on my car. I didn’t like the price they told me so I went to an actual BMW dealer on Tuesday and they gave me an even higher quote. Dumb.

On Wednesday, Brady texted me in the morning and told me that he was feeling under the weather and stayed home from work. My first thought was: Ebola. I know that sounds ignorant, but you just never know. Especially after those nurses had contracted it. I mean, he does work in a hospital. He said he thought it was just a cold and he wanted a day to let it run it’s course. Great. That meant he would be fine and I wouldn’t have to risk getting sick (contracting Ebola) by going to see him.

But then right after lunch, Jessica updated her status, “Can’t afford to be sick right now!” And then after reading the comments, I saw that she stayed home from work too. I don’t believe in that kind of coincidence. How close of contact did they have to both get sick? Brady and I spend the night together every single night and I was fine. Granted, I have a bomb ass immune system, but still. Then I started thinking, maybe they weren’t really sick and they both took the day off so they could spend it together.

So after I got off at 4:30, I stopped and got soup, Oreos and ice cream and headed over to Brady’s place. Brady answered the door looking perfectly fine wearing sweats.

“You don’t look sick,” I said accusingly and pushed passed him inside. Since he wasn’t expecting me, Jessica would not have had time to hide. I dropped my bag of goodies on a table and scurried to his bedroom.

There was no sign of Jess, but his comforter was pulled back like he had just gotten out of bed.

“Is everything okay?” Brady asked, following me into the bedroom.

I turned back to him and saw that his nose and eyes did look a little red. “I brought you some stuff to make you feel better.”

I went and heated up the soup and made myself a bowl of ice cream and Oreos. Then I brought everything back to Brady’s room. We talked about his symptoms for a few minutes and then I pulled out my phone and pretended to see Jessica’s Facebook status for the first time.

“Wow, Jessica said she’s sick too. How weird!” I said with faux surprise.

“Yeah, something is going around. A lot of people at work have been getting sick.”

“What, are you guys a bunch of pussies and have to stay home from work because you have a little cold?” I asked snidely.

“I don’t want to get anyone else sick. I’m probably still contagious…”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” I asked.

“Of course not. You can stay as long as you want.”

Which was sweet and obviously I did. I told him about my car situation and tried to explain why I didn’t want to go through insurance without fully telling him about my awful driving record. I swear only half of the accidents I’ve ever been in were my fault.

I forced Brady to have sex with me because everyone knows sex cures anything. I left after that so he could get some rest.

It must have worked because by Friday, Brady was feeling better so we got dinner and drinks with Carly, Chris, Kendra and John plus Kendra’s coworker, Lori, and Lori’s fiancé, Steven. The night was super chill and I limited myself to two and a half drinks. We were all kind of just talking and stuff and I found out randomly in passing that Brady, Chris and John are going to San Francisco next weekend for the World Series. What the hell?

“When were you going to tell me about San Francisco?” I asked Brady once the conversation shifted elsewhere.

“Didn’t I tell you? I thought we talked about it.”

That seems to be his favorite line these days.

“Uh, no. You didn’t tell me that,” I said.

Brady started to apologize and I said, “Why are you even going? You don’t like either one of those teams.”

He gave me a weird look. “Because it’s the World Series and Hunter invited me.”

Whatever. Later on during a girls trip to the bathroom, I asked Kendra if John told her about the trip.

“Yeah, he asked for permission this morning,” she said.

Ugh. So it’s not like they’ve been planning this trip forever. Brady totally knows we didn’t talk about it. Sketch, sketch, sketch.

I explained to Kendra what happened and she said, “I’m sure he wasn’t trying to be sneaky, Reese. Why would he hide going to a baseball game?”

“Because he plans on meeting up with a girl or something. You’re the one who said he’s probably hooking up with ten other people!”

Kendra rolled her eyes. “I said he could be. He’s going with John and Chris, I’m sure he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try to pull anything.”

She’s right. Plus Hunter will probably help keep an eye on him too. I still think him not telling me is weird.

The night was lowkey and Brady and I went home at around midnight. On Saturday morning I woke up with a runny nose and headache so I guess I finally caught Brady and Jessica’s cold. Gross.

note to readers.

Hey y’all. Before my next post, I just wanted to say a few things. First, thanks everyone for reading my blog! I appreciate every one of you.

I started this blog because I thought it could teach me things about myself that I wouldn’t otherwise realize. My friends definitely call me out and tell me like it is, but I knew an unbiased perspective would be different. I expected hate – I expected people to call me immature or tell me I was making everything up. I did not expect anyone to think I was racist. My friends know I’m not racist and would have never told me that my jokes were offensive. I’m glad y’all told me. I don’t think all Hispanic people are drug dealers or anything like that and I wasn’t aware that that was a stereotype. I’m sorry to anyone I offended with that comment, that was not my intention at all. I lived in Texas and Arizona where the Hispanic population is huge. I could never be racist.

One thing I’m working on is empathy. I don’t know what it’s like to be a minority so I am probably insensitive in that regard. My ex-boyfriend from college was actually half black (the one who will remain nameless) and sometimes people would make fun. I know that isn’t the same, but I do kind of get it.

I get annoyed when people think my blog is fake and think to myself, “They must not have fun lives or ever go out,” which could certainly be true. Not everyone’s life is exactly like mine and I need to be more open and less defensive if they don’t understand me.

When people call me out for ridiculous things I do like blowing up on people or drunk driving, I automatically assume that you’re looking down on me for things they also do. But everyone doesn’t drive after a night of drinking and people probably handle their emotions better than I do. I’m realizing that not everyone makes stupid decisions like me.

I have a very thick skin and even though I prepared myself for and expected everything y’all are telling me, I didn’t expect that my feelings would ever genuinely be hurt. I’ve opened myself up completely for y’all in this blog so I know that I’m asking for the judgment and etc. But when y’all say mean things about the people in my life, it hurts. Especially considering everything you know about them is what I’ve told you and you dislike them because of they way I’ve portrayed them. That makes me feel awful. I never expected to meet someone I really, really cared about and I hope that by including him in this blog, it doesn’t change the way I feel about him or our relationship. That’s the scary part. I want to continue to be open about my life, but not if it’s going to actually affect my relationships.

I appreciate every comment including the mean ones and especially the people who are always defending me. Y’all don’t have to defend me, I know I’m fucking ridiculous lol. I really thank you for letting me know that you can relate to me. I appreciate it so much!

Once again, thanks for reading. I’ll try to get a new post up tomorrow or Monday.

– Reese

we’re going to get engaged soon.

On Saturday, Brady and I stayed in bed literally all morning. We were talking and fooling around and I decided to ask about the George situation.

“So why were you so mad on Wednesday night?” I asked him.

“Are you kidding?” he asked, almost laughing.

I narrowed my eyes at him, preparing to explain to him that no, I was not kidding and his whole tantrum was unwarranted. But then his phone rang and he said, “Sorry. I’m going to take this.”

Brady got out of bed and answered his phone with, “Hola.”

And then he proceeded to have an entire five minute long conversation in Spanish. Even though I took two years of Spanish in high school not a single thing stuck with me so I sat there on the bed looking dumbstruck.

When Brady hung up the phone I said, “What the fuck?”

His eyebrows furrowed together. “Hmm?”

“You speak Spanish?” I asked.

“Sí. I thought I was going to live in South America for a while. Didn’t we talk about this?”

“Uh, no.” If he can keep the fact that he is fluent in another language, what other secrets does he have? “So who were you talking to?”

“Just one of my buddies,” he answered.

“One of your ‘buddies?’ Are you a part of a drug cartel?” I was kind of joking, but mostly serious. It would explain quite a few things.

Brady laughed way too hard at my “joke.” It wasn’t that damn funny. When he saw that I wasn’t laughing with him, Brady said, “Of course not, Reese. That’s ridiculous. I was talking to my friend, Raul. He’s flying in today for the marathon. I’m picking him up from the airport later.”

Is it just me or does “Raul” sound like the name of a Mexican drug lord? I told him I wanted to meet Raul then changed the subject back to Wednesday night.

“So why were you embarrassed? Honestly, I think George is the one who should’ve been embarrassed,” I said.

“Reese, you were all over him. It’s one thing to be friendly, but you were practically sitting in his lap the entire night,” Brady explained, sounding really frustrated with me.

“Okay, well next time I will just be a rude bitch to your coworkers,” I said.

“I’m not telling you to do that. You just took it too far. You should’ve seen the disgusted look Deb had on her face.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you how to be an adult,” Brady said.

I blinked.

“And then you and your friends were acting like complete idiots. I thought you would have more [he used a word I’ve never heard before here]. I have a professional image to uphold.”

I really wanted to point out that he wasn’t concerned about his “professional image” when he was getting his dick sucked in a room in the hospital, but I knew that would just start a fight.

“Okay. Next time I’ll try to act less like myself and more like a professional adult,” I said, hoping he caught on to my sarcasm.

“That would be great. I apologize for kind of blowing up on you. I was extremely frustrated.”

“It’s fine. I almost got kidnapped by a homeless man on my way to the bus stop because I was crying and couldn’t see where I was going. But it’s fine!”

We got dressed and got Portillo’s then went to pick up Raul from the airport. I definitely thought Raul was going to be huge and bald with a teardrop tattoo on his face. He was the exact opposite.

Brady introduced us in Spanish and I said, “Does he like, not know any English?”

Brady turned and gave me a discreet “shut the fuck up” look so I said, “Mucho gusto,” in an American white girl accent.

I let Raul have the front seat when we rode back to Brady’s. They spoke Spanish the entire way so I guess Raul really doesn’t speak English. I wanted to test my theory by saying, “Brady, I want you to cum on my tits later,” but decided against it. Like I said, I’m trying to be more mature.

I hung out with them for approximately ten minutes at Brady’s house, but it was hard because of the language barrier. Since they were running the marathon in the morning, Brady didn’t want to go out or anything so Carly and I decided to go to a party in the suburbs.

She came over to get ready then I drove us to the party. Carly is really bad with directions and after we got lost about four times, we finally made it. It was at some hockey player named Nico’s house and apparently he has parties all the time. Carly introduced us and we hung out and drank with Nico and one of his friends.

I was tipsy and talking to Nico about hockey and life. Carly pulled me aside and said, “Reese, you’re flirting with him.”

“I am not!” I exclaimed. I would totally admit if I was flirting and out of line, but I legitimately was not. Nico was hot, but I wasn’t even attracted to him like that.

“How would you feel if Brady was acting like that with a girl? Did you even tell Nico that you have a boyfriend?” Carly asked.

Good point. I actually hadn’t told Nico about Brady, but then again it hadn’t come up. Is that something you’re supposed to tell someone of the opposite sex right away?

I turned back to Nico and he offered me a shot. After we took it, I told him that I have a boyfriend and we’re probably going to get engaged soon. Nico didn’t seem very interested in me after that, but it was okay because I had fun anyway.

We left at around one and I honestly should not have been driving. Carly insisted she knew her way back, but we ended up in some dark ass neighborhood in the middle of nowhere. I finally got out my phone to put my address into GPS since obviously Carly had no idea where we were.

While we were pulled over and I was pulling up directions, a fucking Buick or some ugly ass car came barreling down the street and side swiped the shit out of us. They physically moved my car and the impact knocked my phone out of my hand.

It took Carly and I a few moments to realize what happened, but by the time we did, the other car was long gone. Those assholes didn’t even stop.

“Reese, are you okay? Should we call 911?” Carly screamed.

I tried to jump out to assess the damage, but my drivers side door would barely open. After I used my body to push the door open, I saw that the entire drivers side of my car was dented and white from their paint.

“What the fuck!” I yelled. “My car is all fucked up. And I can’t even call the police because I’m fucking drunk!”

Carly got out and we mulled over our options then finally decided we should just get home.

This morning was the Chicago Marathon and Brady, Chris, and John were running in it so Carly, Kendra and I woke up super early, bundled up and got lattes to go watch them. This got really boring because there were so many people and we couldn’t even see anything so we got wine and walked back to my apartment.

Later in the day I went to Brady’s and showed him my car.

“Holy shit,” he said. “What happened?”

I explained the story, blaming Carly for the whole thing since it’s her fault we got lost and ended up in that sketch neighborhood.

Brady told me that I could file a police report and then file a claim with my insurance to fix the damages. Ugh. I don’t want to have to file a claim – my insurance is already high enough. Why do I have such bad luck with cars? Maybe I just shouldn’t have one.

jersey chasing slore.

On Friday I decided to reach out to Brady. A little part of me wanted to go completely missing from the face of the earth so he would think I got kidnapped or killed on Wednesday night when he let me go home alone drunk. But that seemed a bit dramatic and I’m trying to be more mature now.

So I texted Brady when I got off and said, “Hi.”

He replied, “Hey.”

I said, “Don’t you miss me?”

And he said, “Yes.”

Ugh. If he missed me then why was he ignoring me? I took a moment to myself so I didn’t start texting him things I would regret. A few minutes later, Brady called me.

“Hey you!” I answered cheerfully. I was actually really happy to hear from him even though I was mad that he ignored me.

“Hi,” Brady said. “How are you?”

“I’m great! Our weekly staff meeting was today and Dave nixed Whitney’s flea market idea because it’s going to cost too much money. And then during lunch, I found a gluten free bakery and I bought an entire chocolate cake since it’s healthy. So life is good,” I said.

Brady laughed. “Just because it’s gluten free doesn’t necessarily mean it’s healthy.”

“Why are you shitting on my parade?”

“I’m sorry. I’m on my way home from work, do you want me to pick you up?”

I told him I did then hung up so I could shower and get ready. I changed into ankle skinnies, a sheer top and my new booties then met Brady downstairs. He said the game was on and asked if I wanted to go to the bar to watch it. I didn’t know what game or even what sport he was referring to, but I’ll use any excuse to drink so I told him yes.

We went to some random place that wasn’t too crowded and got seats at the bar. I got a tequila sunrise and Brady got a beer and we watched a baseball game. Well, for a while we did. Then I got bored and ordered us shots. I asked him to tell me about work and he started to then someone scored a goal. Ugh.

After a while, the game went on commercial and Brady got up to use the bathroom. I ordered us another shot for when he got back then got out my phone. I had a new text message from Preston who said that Mr. Murphy told him he had a surprise waiting in his garage. I was texting him back “OMG SOUNDS LIKE A CAR!” when I heard someone say my name.

I looked up and saw “Eric” the baseball player standing at the bar next to me. Wow. I literally hadn’t seen him since the last time we had sex. He leaned down to give me a hug and I hugged him back with one arm.

“How have you been?” he asked when we pulled apart.

I was kind of surprised because I completely forgot he even existed. He still looked just as scruffy and sexy as I remember in his baseball cap and fitted jeans.

“So, you guys didn’t make it to the World Series?” I asked sweetly.

Eric laughed. Brady appeared on the other side of him, but Eric was blocking his stool to sit down. Brady looked so tiny compared to Eric’s huge frame, but my boyfriend is just so much hotter.

Before I could introduce the two, Eric introduced himself and they shook hands. Suddenly, I felt really protective of Brady. Eric was sizing him up which was really unnecessary because even Stevie Wonder could see that he’s double Brady’s size.

“It was good seeing you, Reese,” Eric said and took his drink from the bartender and walked away.

“How do you know Eric?” Brady asked taking a drink from his cup of beer. He said it in kind of an amused way like he knows we hooked up. Have y’all seen that meme with Kermit the Frog drinking a cup of tea from the Lipton commercial? That’s what Brady looked like.

I obviously couldn’t tell him the truth because I don’t want him to think I’m some jersey chasing slore. “Just from around town. I ordered us more tequila shots!”

I insisted we take the shots and then Brady got back into the game. I ended up having way too much tequila and we had to leave. I woke up this morning in my underwear and booties.

I can’t believe we ran into Eric last night. And I can’t believe he like hugged me and stuff. And by the way, Brady and I never talked about what happened on Wednesday or why he was embarrassed, but I have that on my to-do list today.

shake it off.

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday I was swamped at work since I was in charge of the entire office while Dave and Diana were gone. Nothing crazy really happened, but it seemed like everyone suddenly had all these random ass questions that I didn’t have the answers to. I winged it though and nothing blew up so I think we’re good.

On Wednesday evening, I wanted to let loose from my serious week so I met Kendra, Preston and Dillon for dinner and drinks. I got a baby caeser and a huge pitcher of sangria for the table and immediately chugged an entire glass. Kendra was groaning about how stressful her job has become and now she’s questioning being a lawyer all together and Preston, being Preston, calmed her down in his soothing Kris Jenner voice. Then he ordered us all shots.

Brady texted me at around 7:30 when he got off and I invited him. Dillon started telling us about how he recently met a modeling scout who wants him to do a nude test shoot this weekend. I told him that it sounds sketchy, but he assured me that it is completely legit. I let him know that I want to see the photos when he’s finished though.

By the time Brady arrived, I was tipsy, but not quite drunk.

“Oh my God, hiiiiiii!” I squealed, jumping up to hug him.

We sat down and I poured him a glass of sangria while I filled him in on what we were talking about.

“So does posing nude seem normal for a first time test shoot?” I asked.

“I’m not familiar with that industry so I’m not sure,” Brady answered. I rolled my eyes at his politically correct answer. Just agree with me.

For the next half an hour we drank and talked about random stuff. I excitedly asked everyone if they heard about how the US Ebola patient had died and the extreme precautionary measures they were taking to dispose of his body. Kendra asked me to stop because it was making her lose her appetite. Rude.

I was complaining to Brady about my week when the host led a group of three older people to the table next to us. One of the men called Brady’s name.

“Hello!” Brady stood up to greet him. They all shook hands and then Brady introduced me to one of the lead surgeons from the hospital and his wife who is a nurse at the hospital.

“Wow Brady, you’ve really done well for yourself, huh?” the surgeon, George, said and he nudged Brady and winked at me.

Brady shrugged all sheepishly and I stood there like a trophy wife while they talked for a little bit. George kept trying to bring me into the conversation which was nice, but sometimes I’m better seen than heard (I’m sure we can all agree).

We sat back down and ordered more drinks and food. Kendra, Preston, Dillon and I were talking and laughing really loudly and George kept leaning over to our table to comment and laugh with us. I was sitting closest to him so I was getting most of his attention and I could smell on his breath that he had enjoyed some adult beverages himself. George kept saying my name and commenting on how I was eating my zucchini fries. If our significant others weren’t sitting on either side of us, I would think he was actually flirting with me. Definite creepy old man vibe.

At one point after I was drunk, I was taking a selfie with Brady on my phone. I started reviewing the picture and George said, “You don’t want to take a picture with me, Reese?”

I giggled and turned the camera back on to take a picture with him. As soon as I snapped the picture, he turned his head to kiss me on the cheek. Ew. Too far.

That “Shake It Off” song by Taylor Swift came on and Dillon screamed, “This is my fucking jam!”

He stood up and grabbed Preston and me and we ran to the little dance floor in the restaurant. On weekend nights, the place turns into a bar/club, but this was Wednesday so no one was dancing. Except us. Yolo.

I don’t know how, but I knew every word to that ridiculous ass song. I can’t even remember hearing it more than one time prior to this incident. Brady had his back to me and was talking to George, who was watching us. As the song was ending I skipped back to our table and shook it off a little bit in front of George before sitting back down between him and Brady.

About half an hour later, Kendra decided she had to go so we started wrapping our evening up.

“I took the el here, can I go home with you?” I purred in Brady’s ear.

“Sure,” he said, not looking at me.

George insisted on hugging me before we left since we are besties now and his wife gave me a tight smile. She probably needs to keep him on a tighter leash.

The ride to Brady’s was silent, but I didn’t notice/care because I was too busy SnapChatting and Facebooking.

When we got inside and to his room, Brady said, “Are you even going to apologize for what you just did?”

“Whaaattt?” I whined, looking at him in utter confusion. What I did?

“You embarrassed me,” he said.

“I was just having fun!” I said innocently.

“Of course you were. Do you care about anything or anyone besides yourself?”

I opened my mouth to say something, but I actually didn’t have an answer to that.

“I don’t even know what the fuck goes on in your head sometimes.”

“Umm, ooookay,” I said slowly. I don’t like being on the receiving end of a confrontation. Especially when drunk. The tears were already threatening to form. “I guess I’m going to leave.”

“Yeah, maybe you should,” Brady said hastily.

I spun on my heel and marched out, but it wasn’t until I got outside that I realized I didn’t have my car. I thought about going back inside and apologizing so I could pass out in Brady’s warm bed, but that’s just not me. I trekked to the bus stop and went home to cry.

And no, we haven’t talked since.

weekend with brunter (brady + hunter).

Did everyone else assume Brady’s brother was going to be gangly and awkward with huge glasses and weird hair? I sure did.

On Friday evening, Brady was going to dinner with his brother, Hunter, but afterward we were all going out. I went to Kendra’s to hang out for a few hours, but also search her closet because I lost a pair of boots and I knew she stole them. I actually haven’t been to Kendra’s much since John moved in because all of his shit has taken over her little apartment. When Kendra first moved in, I helped her decorate and pick out furniture so she had the most adorable, Victorian inspired Old Town apartment. Now John’s freaking bike is in the living room and the place smells like oatmeal. I grabbed my boots (knew it) and got the hell out of there.

I packed an overnight bag and headed to Brady’s to get ready and to pregame. Imagine my surprise when Brady led me to the kitchen to meet his brother and a giant was standing there drinking a beer.

“Reese, this is Hunter,” Brady said introducing us.

His brother stuck out his paw for me to shake and said, “Nice to finally meet you, Reese. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

He just looked like his name was Hunter. Y’all are going to crucify me for saying this, but he is very, very good looking. He was at least 6’3 (probably taller) with a coarse, but maintained beard and his hair in a low man-bun type thing. He reminds me of Thor, but much more granola, like he wears Birkenstocks and lives in a camper. I shook his hand, which was easily three times larger than mine, and he gave me a knowing kind of smirk. Probably because he’s fully aware that I lied about being pregnant and made a fool of myself in front of their parents. Suddenly I felt really self-conscious.

“Hi,” I squeaked.

“Do you like whiskey?” Hunter asked.

“Um, it’s okay,” I replied. I like all alcohol (obvi), but whiskey definitely isn’t my go-to.

“I was telling Brady, I have this whiskey from the 19th century. It’s insane. It’s not even legal to own anymore,” he explained and a fifth of dark, dark whiskey materialized in his hand.

“How did you even get it on the plane?” I asked.

He glanced at me and smiled slyly before pouring three glasses.

“To a good night?” Hunter cheersed looking from Brady to me.

We were drinking the whiskey straight with no ice or anything and it burned. It had a licoricey flavor and it was really strong. I felt dizzy after only one sip. Whoa. Had to go easy on that stuff.

I took my drink to Brady’s room to get ready. I decided to wear jeans, a Derek Lam tank and booties with my hair down. After one glass of that old ass whiskey, I was already pretty turnt and dancing around the duplex.

We took a cab to the bar and met Carly and Chris there. Apparently I was the only one who was affected by Hunter’s tainted alcohol and I skipped to the bar to order us shots (jaeger bombs obviously). Even though I was being a little crazy, Brady didn’t ask me to calm down. Probably should have though.

The night started to get kinda blurry, but I remember talking a lot. I was standing at the bar with Brady telling him about the time I was so scared in a haunted house that I asked them to just kill me, when my mother called me. It’s like she has some sort of radar that lets her know when I’m belligerently drunk. I declined her call and she immediately called back.

“My mom’s blowing up my phone, she’s so fucking weird,” I told Brady.

“Perhaps it’s something important,” he said.

Just when he said that my mom texted me, “Call me babe. It’s important.”

Naturally I thought the worst like my dad was in a car accident or one of my grandparents was dead. I told Brady I was going to call her back and pushed my way outside to the fresh air. To my surprise, Hunter was standing at the curb next to a food cart.

“What’s up?” he greeted me.

I waved and dialed my mom back.

“Hey love,” she answered. “I have your Tory Burch wedges here. Do you mind if I borrow them tonight? I’m going to Flying Saucer with the girls.”

“Seriously, Mom? That’s what was so important?” I practically yelled. “I don’t even wear Tory Burch anymore!”

“So you don’t mind?”

I was so irritated at her for making me panic and think something was wrong at home. Plus she borrows my things without asking all the time so I don’t know why she was suddenly acting like she needs permission.

“Bye Mom! Love you,” I said and hung up.

“My mom is nuts,” I said to Hunter, just in case he was wondering. “What are you doing out here?”

“Aren’t I allowed to enjoy this beautiful weather?”

This was sarcasm because it was really chilly and windy as hell. We started talking about how he lives in San Francisco which has nice weather, but not nearly as nice as like SoCal. We somehow got to talking about Brady and me and I bravely asked what Brady has told him about me. I was preparing for the worst (I caused drama, I was an alcoholic, I corrupted him), but to my surprise Hunter said, “He told me that he’s in love with you.”

I was not expecting him to say that at all and I probably looked like I swallowed a goldfish.

“I know, I was surprised too,” Hunter said. “He’s so private about that kind of stuff. I only knew about the last girl he dated because my parents told me.”

The last girl he dated. Anna or whoever?

“I think he was just a little bit freaked out,” he continued.

Hunter’s confession actually freaked me out. I know Brady and I have said that when we’re high, but I didn’t think he really felt that way. Even though I was drunk, I got embarrassed and felt weird that Hunter told me that. If Brady wanted me to know, he would express it – sober.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” I asked Hunter to take the attention off me.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one.

“There’s a girl. Dom – Dominique. She’s the love of my life,” Hunter said. “I haven’t told anyone about her though.”

“Why haven’t you told anyone?” I wanted to know.

“I don’t want to give my family the chance to disapprove of her. We’re going to elope.” Hunter offered the cigarette to me and I took it.

“Why would anyone disapprove?” I asked.

“Why wouldn’t they? Generally speaking, my parents just…suck.”

I nodded, taking a drag. I don’t know them well, but I could see how his parents would disapprove of his whole San Francisco life. But from what Brady told me, I assumed he and their mom were close. “When are you getting married?”

“Soon. Don’t tell Brady.”

I told him that his secret is safe with me. We passed the cig back and forth a few times until it was gone. I knew Brady was probably looking for me so I left Hunter out there and went back inside. I found Brady exactly where I’d left him by the bar. I threw my arms around and kissed him because 1. I was drunk and 2. We are in love!

“Is everything okay with your mom?” he asked.

“Yeah, she’s just annoying,” I said dismissively.

Brady said that I smelled like smoke and I quickly (probably too quickly) told him that a guy next to me outside was smoking. Which isn’t a lie. We hung out and drank for a little while longer before getting food from a food truck (barf) and cabbing home.

I woke up on Saturday morning and made everyone hot chocolate with Baileys because it was freezing. Brady and Hunter were sitting at the dining room table talking and at first I just sat there browsing Instagram until I heard them say something about Ebola being in the United States.

“Wait, what’s Ebola?” I asked. I’d heard people talking about it in passing, but I thought it only affected people in Africa or whatever.

“It’s a deadly virus that is spread through bodily fluids. Your kidneys and liver shut down and you bleed from every orifice in your body,” Brady said. “A man recently traveled to Liberia and contracted it.”

“He lied about being in contact with anyone with Ebola and brought it back with him. Now he’s being quarantined, but they didn’t diagnose him at first. They gave him antibiotics and sent him home,” Hunter added.

“Imagine how many hundreds of people he could’ve infected within that time. They’re also trying to hunt down everyone who was on the plane with him and contain them.”

“They decontaminated his apartment and sent his family to a confidential location, but he could have spread it to them already.”

“It could be all over the country by now.”

I was horrified. They laughed and said they were kidding and the media is probably making it sound much worse than it actually is, but I spent the next few hours cleaning Brady’s condo
and staying holed up in his room because you just never fucking know. Eventually they said they were going to go eat at one of my favorite restaurants so I couldn’t say no.

I used almost all of my purse sized bottle of Purell. Then I started thinking that the cooks or our waiter could have contacted someone with Ebola and they could have it and could’ve contaminated our food. I told Brady and Hunter and they laughed and kept eating, but my appetite was gone. It was really unfortunate too because my bacon cheeseburger was bomb AF.

When we got home, Chris was home and they all went downstairs to smoke. After my tiring day of trying not to catch Ebola, I needed to take the edge off so I joined them. I only choked once and when we were done, we sat on the couch for a really long time. They were talking about football or sports or something while I sat there mesmerized by the fact that my nude painted nails matched the wall almost perfectly. What are the chances?

We decided to go to the bar and all got up to get ready. While Brady and I were getting dressed, Hunter showered in the attached bathroom. We were basically done getting ready so while we waited for Hunter to shower we started making out and fooling around. Naturally, we ended up having sex, but without taking any of our clothes off. Every time I would moan or make any noise Brady would shush me so Hunter wouldn’t hear even though the shower was on. I doubt he would’ve heard anything.

The four of us walked to a nearby bar and started with shots and beer. I felt like one of the guys.

Once when Brady went to get more drinks, Hunter leaned over to me and said, “You’re not what I expected at all. You’re super chill.”

“What were you expecting?” I asked.

He looked over his shoulder like he was making sure Brady wasn’t coming back yet. “A snob. No offense.”

I’ve actually been called a snob (so 90’s right?) plenty of times in my life so it felt nice to hear that someone didn’t think I was one.

When we got home, Brady and I got in bed. I wasn’t really drunk and the weed seemed to have worn off, but I was still feeling bold.

“Do you love me?” I asked.

“Mmmhm,” he murmured, pulling me close.

I pushed him away so I could look at his face. “Seriously?”

His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “What?”

“Have you ever been in love? Do you even know what it feels like?”

“Why are you asking me this?”

“I just want to know!”

“Yes, I know what love feels like,” Brady sighed like he was so annoyed with me.

“How?” I demanded.

“What do you mean how?” he asked.

“Who have you ever been in love with?”

“A girl a few years ago-”

I didn’t even let him finish before saying, “How do you know you loved her?”

“Because I knew. She did a lot for me.”

I hated hearing about other girls Brady’s been with so even though I was dying to know who this girl was (Anna? Someone else?) I decided not to pry anymore.

We fell asleep and then something really weird happened in the middle of the night. I legitimately can’t tell if this was a dream or if this really happened, but I’ll tell it like it really happened.

I woke up in the middle of the night because I heard someone in the bathroom. I assumed it was Brady at first, but then I felt him sleeping next to me. I heard the toilet flush and watched the door open. Hunter was standing there, completely naked with his hair down and his dick just swinging. He saw me and smirked then turned off the bathroom light and walked out. So fucking weird/realistic.

But on Sunday morning we all had breakfast and Hunter didn’t blush or act weird (I personally felt really embarrassed) so now I’m thinking I must have dreamed the whole thing. Plus, why would Hunter be walking around Brady and Chris’s place naked like he owns the place? It can’t have really happened. Which begs the question of ew, why would I have that kind of dream?

what a fail.

On Tuesday I decided that I was going to make dinner for Brady. I don’t ever cook, but I thought it would be a nice gesture. I found a recipe for homemade ravioli on Pinterest that didn’t seem too complicated and made a grocery list for after work.

$170 later, I headed home with all the ingredients I needed (including a pastry wheel, a rolling pin, and a bottle of wine). I started with the pasta dough which seemed fairly easy – pour the flour on a flat surface, make a “well” for the egg yolks, oil and milk, mix.

Well, it didn’t work out like that. I didn’t want to touch the raw eggs with my bare hands so I tried to use a spoon. That obviously didn’t work. My dough came out super runny. I added more flour but it ended up crumbling into pieces. I tried again and decided that I would follow the recipe exactly by using my hands. I sucked it up and mixed the dough with my hands, but again it came out runny (later found out that I read the recipe wrong and should’ve added more flour, of course).

At this point, I was annoyed and decided I would start on the filling then come back to the dough. I was making a spinach and mozzarella filling and the first step was to wilt the spinach down with olive oil and garlic. Easy enough. I added the garlic and olive oil and then dumped the entire bag of spinach in the pan. My mom called and I excitedly told her about the meal I was making. I knew she would be proud.

She started telling me about how one of my favorite teachers from high school is under investigation for having sex with one of his students. I was shocked and realized that could have so easily been me. I flirted with him endlessly my junior and senior years because he was hot plus math was really hard. He never really budged or showed any interest (except buying a ton of cookie dough from me during our fundraiser for new uniforms). Maybe I just wasn’t hot enough for him to hook up with.

I was so engrossed in the conversation with my mom that I forgot all about the spinach on the stove until I smelled burning garlic. The pan was smoking so I told my mom I had to call her back. The majority of the spinach was black and burned with the garlic. How does that even happen?

By then, Brady was due in thirty minutes and my ravioli was nowhere near being done. What a fail. I knew that I had to cook something so I decided to stick with what a know how to make: grilled cheese. Plus that was all I really had time for. I had fresh mozzarella left from my ravioli disaster so I used it to make two sandwiches. I plated them with vintage Hermès plates with a basil leaf garnish. Chicest grilled cheese ever.

I buzzed Brady in and the first thing he said was, “Did you burn something?”

Ugh. Definitely should’ve opened a window.

“Are you ready to eat?” I asked, ignoring his question.

“Mmm, yes. What did you make?” Brady said.

I led him to my tiny table and chairs. “Gourmet grilled cheese!” I squealed.

“Looks great.” Brady went to sit down, but I yelled for him to stop.

“I need to take a picture for Instagram,” I explained.

He waited patiently while I uploaded the photo of our food and wine (and my fabulously decorated table) with the caption “Made dinner for bae.” I immediately got several likes.

After we ate, we were still hungry so we made pizza rolls. I poured us more wine and we took it along with our pizza rolls and Oreos to the couch. We started watching some baseball game and stayed up talking until 1:00 AM.

On Wednesday, I hung out with Preston and Dillon. We went to this natural tea place Preston has been dying to try and all their drinks are named stuff like “Happiness” and “Purity.” I got “Tranquility” because obviously that’s what I need in my life.

We sat outside and I told them about my latest bout of craziness with Brady. Preston obviously laughed for several minutes then gave Dillon a brief overview of my relationship with Brady.

“Poor guy. He has no idea what he’s gotten himself into,” Preston said, wiping his laughter tears away.

“I’ve decided that I’m going to let myself be vulnerable though. I think I’ve been so crazy with him because I have a guard up,” I said.

“Good for you,” Preston said and his face turned serious. “I don’t think he has any intention to hurt you, love bug. And if he does, just know that you have amazing friends who will help you slash his tires and hack into his Facebook.”

I laughed because that was true. You don’t even want to know what kind of trouble my friends and I got into in college.

Dillon spent the rest of the evening telling me his life story which would have been really annoying if it wasn’t completely entertaining. He said he’s 19 and moved here from San Diego. His house burned down two years ago and apparently his family’s insurance didn’t cover all the losses so they had to dip into his college fund and now he has no money to go to school. So tragic. He’s hoping to break into acting and dance and has been an extra in those awful Step Up movies. He moved to Chicago because of the theater opportunities and was homeless for his first few months here. Luckily he met a kind person who not only helped him pay for school, but also gave him a place to live. What a wonderful story.

I texted Brady while I was out and asked if he wanted to come over. He said he was working late so I invited Preston and Dillon over. I couldn’t help checking Jessica’s Facebook to see if she checked in anywhere or tagged Brady in anything. She didn’t. Is it unhealthy that I do that? I’ve been checking her page obsessively the last few days and all I see are pictures of her and her friends. I thought about deleting her, but then I won’t catch it if she does tag Brady in something.

hot mess in high heels.

Monthly Archives: October 2014