Superstar, where you from? How's it goin'? I know you got a clue what you doin'.

And we're back for part 2 of the story. After a day of reading "The Secret Diary of a Call Girl" (pretty good. Not Pulitzer-worthy, but I don't regret the amount of time I have an will continue to put into it), watching Iron Chef America, napping and talking to MK, I'm feeling good. Usually, when I spend a day doing nothing productive, I feel guilty about it, but not today. Today, the only negative is that my back kind of hurts from sitting in bed as long as I have. But hey, at least I got dressed!

OK, so back to last night. After the Convict said he felt like we were talking about him (We were.) and NewJeff said we weren't (He lied.) we got our complimentary (kind of gross) champagne, and went back out to the main area of the place to wait for midnight. While waiting for midnight to strike, I see, out of the corner of my eye, Convict just WATCHING me. Creepy. Severely creepy. Midnight strikes, there is general merriment (I didn't mention before, and it should be noted, that watching middle-aged people dance drunkenly and grope each other on the dance floor is. . .kind of fun. It would have been better if I'd had someone to watch them with me, but being someone who likes to people watch, I thoroughly enjoyed that part of the evening. But seriously? These people were basically getting it on on the dance floor.) I was toasted by Katia (which made me think maybe her disliking me was all in my head) and toasted from across the room by this woman who later came over and hit on me.

Everyone made the rounds, toasting everyone, saying happy new year, rocking out to the music, etc. The woman came over and hit on me, one of the guys in the band who remembered me from when I dropped NewJeff off at rehearsal once came over and said hi. . .I was a lot less awkward at that point, but I also know that I was about ready to go. I stayed for a couple songs, and then headed out, as I was picking Carrie up from a church function.

I head out the door, say goodnight to the guy at the door I'd talked to when I came in, and started to head to my car. I heard the door close behind me, and, as I was walking down the stairs, I heard the door open again and footsteps behind me. I keep walking, but not toward my own car. I had a feeling I knew who was behind me, and I didn't want him knowing which car was mine. So I stopped at this random car and pulled on my gloves (this is quasi-important later) as Convict walks up to me. "You leaving?" he asks. "Yep," I said, pulling my keys out of my purse and putting them in my pocket. At the same time I put the keys in my pocket, I pull my cell phone out and transfer it to my other, empty pocket. I flipped the phone open inside my coat pocket and, through the amazing power of texting all the time, managed to text "911" (I am, upon further consideration, really glad I knew how many presses of the "1" button it took to actually get a number one, rather than punctuation [13, if you're interested] because there was a distinct possibility that the message could have read "9]]" and I probably would have had people thinking I was just drunk texting.) to the last person I'd sent a message to. (So really, any of you that I was texting last night could have received that message, and I wonder if everything would have turned out the same way.)

He started asking me if he could have my phone number so he could take me out, and I told him, no, no, I'm actually married. (He wouldn't have been able to confirm whether or not I was wearing a ring when I talked to him the first time because I was holding a plate in my left hand and it obstructed the view of my fingers. This time, since I'd put on my gloves, he couldn't tell then, either.) I said my husband wouldn't appreciate it, but he seemed nice, etc. He started to say something else, stepping closer to me, making me painfully aware that there was absolutely no one outside, and the music was so loud inside that if I screamed, no one would even hear me, when my phone rang. My text message, it seems, served its purpose. I said, "Oh, there he is now," and answered with a chipper, "Hey, sweetie, I was just talking about you." Never mind that I've never in my life called someone I was involved with "sweetie," but it seemed like something you'd call a husband. I don't know. I've never had one. My savior on the other end asked me if I was OK, and I said, "Yeah, yeah, I'm leaving right now. I'm just having a conversation with a gentleman in the parking lot." She said, "Are you OK? Is everything alright?" and I said, "Yes. I was actually hoping you'd call, because I wanted to ask you if you wanted me to pick anything up on the way home." (Never mind it was like 1 a.m. and nowhere would be open.)

The conversation went on like that for another couple of minutes, and Convict was still standing there. I was beginning to wonder how long I was going to have to stand there in the cold, talking to my "husband," leaning against some random person's car, before he'd leave. Lucky for me, people started coming out of the bar, and Convict lost interest and wandered back inside. I hung up from my call, promising I'd tell her what happened later, and kind of sprinted to my car, locking the doors behind me and tearing out of the parking lot ASAP.

So that? Is how my evening ended.

And I have to make a note here: If you are someone who knows the story of what happened last night, and when you see me, you give me an uncomfortably firm handshake and an uncomfortable hug, imitating what Convict did, even though I don't realize it until after you do it, that? Is a dick move. And so incredibly immature and rude, I can't even really explain it. Period.

I am now going to venture out and go to Asheville right now. Because I'm craving IHOP, and it's going to be my last hurrah before I make good on my decision (not resolution. Decision.) to cook more.

Oh, but before I go. . .I am completely and utterly obsessed with this song right now:

Say what you will about Britney Spears, but not only is she hot, she performs a damn catchy song. It doesn't hurt that this has become the theme song for the very sexy Chuck Bass (On Gossip Girl) and that YouTube has several videos with clips from the show between him and Blair Waldorf (another hot one) that are awesome.

Yes, I'm lusting after characters on a TV show. What of it?

Incidentally, Nick sent me this video because he wanted me to see how attractive the main man is, but I spent the entire video watching Britney. Something about a girl who changes identities by changing her hair. It's hot.

But yes. Ever since I ripped this CD from Ashley, I've been playing this song pretty much non-stop on my iPod (for which I now have awesome, AWESOME headphones I'll have to talk about later.)

Pancake time!

And thunder so loud from a black thundercloud. A natural disaster I know nothing about; tell me why (why) haven't I heard from you?

Happy 2009, everyone.  Hope everyone had a great evening and that there are no raging hangovers.

I ended up having an OK time last night.  It wasn't the best New Year's Eve I've ever had, but it was better, honestly, than I expected.  For most of it, it was, I'm not going to lie, incredibly uncomfortable.  Mainly because I don't do well in crowds, and I especially don't do well in crowds where I don't know anyone (or, in this case, I know few people.  The only people I knew were NewJeff and his wife, Katia.)

I got there at about quarter 'til 10 and called Ashley to talk to her until I wasn't early.  (NewJeff had told me to be there at 10.)  I went in and sat at the table where NewJeff was sitting until the band started and where his wife was sitting.  I feel a little bit of. . .something from his wife.  I kind of get the impression she doesn't like me, but since I've never actually done anything to her, I just have to assume that either she's just not a person that is genial to people she doesn't know well, or I'm just paranoid.  Maybe it's a combination of the two.

Anyway, they started playing around 10:15, and over the next hour and a half, I listened to the music (awkwardly, I might add) and texted Ashley and MK.  Truly, I was so far out of my element, I was wondering if the entire evening was just going to be incredibly awkward for me.  At about 20 'til 12, the band stopped playing and there was a random buffet.  Score.  NewJeff came down and was talking to me, so I felt exponentially more comfortable (not that NewJeff makes me feel more comfortable in general, but the fact that I had someone to talk to that didn't involve small talk was good.)  He was fighting about something with his wife, so that was awkward, but I was so relieved to have someone to talk to, and that particular level of awkward was so much less than the level of awkward I was feeling prior, it was a welcome change.

So I'm standing there and this guy comes up to me.  He was looking rough.  Very, very rough.  He holds out his hand and says, "We haven't met.  I'm _______."  I don't remember his name.  He didn't look like he was mentally all there.  But he had an uncomfortably firm handshake. . .it was like, I was well aware of the fact that if he wanted to, this man could probably break my hand without thinking twice about it.  Then he kissed my hand, during which time I literally had to hold back a shiver of revulsion.  Like. . .it was SO UNCOMFORTABLE.  He finally lets go, and I take a step back.  It occurs to me now that I probably should have given him a fake name, but I am in situations like this so infrequently, it didn't even occur to me.  However, Sarah is a common enough name that I don't think it was a big deal.

He starts talking to me about how he's never seen me there before, and he hopes that 2009 is better than 2008 was.  I said something like, "Yeah, it was a rough year for me, too," you know, trying to make small talk with this man who made me so uncomfortable, I wanted to run away screaming and take a scalding shower to get the fact that he kissed my hand off of me.  But I also got the impression that if I were rude, or if I made it obvious he was making me uncomfortable, I would probably regret it somehow.

Then he says to me, "Yeah, well, I was in prison this year."

Yikes.

I said, "Oh.  Well, that WOULD make for a bad year."  This is a prime example of both me talking too much when I get uncomfortable and me saying probably the wrong thing at the wrong time.

He continues with, "It was a little thing.  I didn't kill nobody.  Didn't rape nobody."  And as he's saying this, he's stepping closer to me and I'm fighting the urge to run away.

During this time, I'd forgotten NewJeff was standing behind me.  But he was, watching the entire exchange.  The Convict gestured toward NewJeff and said, "Is this your boyfriend?"

Now, if I were smart, and if I were used to creepy guys hitting on me, I would have said yes.  However, I'm so used to denying involvement with NewJeff (I can't remember if I mentioned in here how everyone at work thinks he and I have something going on, but they do.  I have said, "No.  There is NOTHING GOING ON," so many times, it's really just become second nature.) that I immediately said, "No!  No, he's not my boyfriend."

Stupid, stupid Sarah.

He said something I don't remember, and said it was nice to meet me.  And then he hugged me.  I could feel my gag reflex acting up, but he was surprisingly strong for someone so short.  Again, I felt like if I legitimately tried to struggle to get away, I wouldn't be able to.  He tried to kiss my face but I twisted my head so he couldn't get to me, and he finally let go.  I (again, talking too much and talking nervously) said something to the effect of, "Oh, wow.  I'm not really a hugging person."  He walked away.

NewJeff (who, if you'll remember, was standing right behind me the entire time) comes up and says something like, "You know, if, in a situation like that, you need me to be your boyfriend, that's fine."

I didn't think about this until later, but when I did think about it, I. . .got mad.  Jeff just stood there and watched this entire exchange.  I mean, when the guy who we suspect may have been slightly stalking Carrie was in her office, I went into her office and stood there while he talked to her, because I could tell she was a little freaked out.  Jeff just stood there.  (When I told Carrie about this later, she said, "Well. . .he's Jeff."  Legit.  But that doesn't mean that I wasn't still angry about it.)

Anyway, Jeff then proceeds to tell me that the guy had gotten out of prison three months ago for "involuntary manslaughter."  He'd been in for like 6 years, apparently.  Now, I don't know a whole lot about the justice system, but I so know that sometimes, you can plead down.  So it's entirely possible that he killed someone on purpose but was sentenced to a lesser sentence or something.  I don't know how he got there, but the point was, he was there.  

The guy kept looking at me, and as Jeff is saying something to the effect of, yeah, you should stay away from that guy, the guy walks by again and says something to the effect of, "Seems like everyone's talking about me."  And Jeff says, no, man, we're not talking about you.  And he kept WATCHING me.

I am actually going to go take a nap right now (because sitting in bed all day and watching Iron Chef America is truly exhausting) and I'll finish the story later.  

One last thing I'll throw in that has nothing to do with anything:  I randomly found out today that the Reba McEntire song "She Thinks His Name Was John," is about a woman that got AIDS from a one-night stand.  I. . .had no idea.  I've been listening to that song, literally, since I was about 9, and I always thought it was just a song about a woman who slept with a guy the one time, and fell in love with him but never saw him again.  I could never figure out why she was making such a big deal out of it, and why she couldn't have a marriage or kids after that one night.  I really thought that it was because she became so attached to him after that one night, she became obsessed and went crazy.  I didn't realize how off-the-mark I was.  Wow.  It's weird when you find things out like that, that completely change your perception of something that you didn't realize you had a perception of in the first place.  Crazy.

Interjections! Show excitement! And emotion!

The last post of 2008, you guys. I'll try to avoid being overly "OMG, it's the end of the year! I'm going to get sentimental!"

I haven't written in a while, and a lot of stuff has been going on, but I'm not going to try to recount everything. I've been ludicrously happy here recently, and it's been nice.

It's New Year's Eve and I'll be going to Bryson City tonight to hear NewJeff's band. I'm not. . .honestly, I'm not thrilled about it, but I'm not going to sit at home by myself on New Year's Eve, a night when I tend to be a little overly emotional anyway (because it's usually a "Oh my GOD, it's been another year, and I'm STILL alone!" I'm not actually alone, but physically, I would be alone this evening.) I had New Year's plans, which I'd made. . .a month and a half/two months ago, but they were canceled last week. Now, I'm not going to lie. . .I'm still pissed about that. I've been good, especially recently, about not holding onto things that don't really matter, that I KNOW don't really matter, but this? I continue to be beyond pissed about this. Because this'll be the first New Year's in. . .well, since freshman year of high school, that I don't have someone to hang out with (or a group of people to hang out with.)

When I called NewJeff to get directions to the place, he mentioned how sad it is that I'm going by myself. Thank you, Jeff. I wasn't already aware of how pathetic it is. I really needed you to remind me. Much obliged.

However, the alternative is sitting at home alone, feeling really sorry for myself, and I refuse to do that. So I will look cute, I will go to Bryson City, and I will be sociable.

I honestly can't believe it's the end of the year. More has happened in the past year than I think has happened to me in the entirety of my life. I won't list it all, but just believe me when I say that this year was. . .eventful, to say the least. I don't profess to know what 2009 is going to bring, but I hope it's. . .you know, I don't want to say "better," because this past year wasn't bad, per se. A lot of crappy things happened, but it wasn't, in its entirety, a bad year.

Now that I've started this entry, I feel like I don't have as much to say as I thought I did. Maybe I felt guilty for not updating for a long period of time. I don't know. It seems like I start out having tons to say and then I lose steam.

Anyway, everyone have a happy New Year's Eve, be safe, and I'll catch everyone in 2009.