Live from Dallas | Part I | Have You Missed Me?!

Week One

It's official - I'm a Texan.  And by "official" I mean only for the next 5 weeks, still with my Kansas DL, Kansas plates and an apartment sitting in St. Louis.  If you're feeling a little out of the loop - quick update - I'm dong an elective rotation at Children's Medical Center Dallas in the emergency department with my fabulous friend PA Fisher.  Last week was my "vacation week" which constitutes the only week during clinical rotation year that you get off - as in not work, not sexually.  While some of my fellow classmates spent theirs in Mexico and Florida, I spent mine moving down to Hot as Balls Dallas, TX.  My mom, Marley and I made the 7 hour trek last Tuesday in my jam packed TSX and spent the rest of the week running errands for my procrastinator Uncle - whom, bee-tee-dubs I adore...just sayin'.  Apparently men don't like to furniture shop and assume just because women love to shop, we must also love to shop for bedroom furniture...for someone else.  Wrong.  I enjoy shopping for myself and myself only...oh and for all my friends who have babies (that shit makes me teary eyed).   After two days of driving around Dallas/Plano searching for the perfect dresser, night stand and head board, he of course settled on the very first one we showed him (btw, my awesome single uncle is recently divorced from a nut job who took the guest bedroom furniture - hence the unfurnished bedroom).

So, as you probably have caught on to - you smart little cookie, you -  I am staying with my handsome and did I mention? fun and single uncle in North Dallas.  So far, so good.  We've done some grilling out and sipped on a few glasses of wine.  Even better, he let me bring Miss Marie who is adjusting rather well to the Texas heat with her butchered hair cut - no making fun.

Friday I dropped my mom off at the airport and spent the rest of the day lying by the pool working on my tan lines before heading to HH.  There, I met my first true Texan friend.  She's just precious...and I mean PRESH.  Picture Texas chick and you picture her.  Bubbly and blond.  Sarah and I were the first to arrive at the Mexican restaurant we decided to fancy for Skinny Bitch Margs and chips, salsa and guac.  All the sudden bubbly, blond Texan plops down in the booth and says, "Oh my God, y'all! It's so f*cking hot out there!"  I knew from then on we were going to be friends.  I died when I heard her Southern twang and then peed my pants a little when she said the f-word...because if you've ever had a convo with me (unless your an elder to me and I was doing my best to behave) I have quite the potty mouth at times.  We had great conversation the rest of the night - much of which I can't recall.

Then, just like that along came Saturday.  I again, woke up and plopped my ass by the pool for a little sun as I sobered up just in time to go out again.  Saturday night was spent in Uptown with a mutual friend from Kansas City who just made the big move down to Dallas.  I randomly ran in to Nathan in KC before I left and found out he was relocating.  From that moment on, it was decided we would be Kansas Partners in Crime.  And that we were.  We spent a few beers catching up on the last few years of our lives in KC.  I met him through my ex-boyfriend and you know how that goes - once you break up with the loser boyfriend, you break up with his friends too - so I hadn't seen him too much since then.

We hit up a few bars and after a few vodka drinks my sass started to come out.  Weird.  Imagine that.  We met some random guys and hung out with them for the rest of the night - mostly because we couldn't get rid of the little Cub Scout and his friends.  Cub Scout spent the entire night hitting on me.  I repeatedly thanked him for the compliments, but no thanks.  Clearly (hence the nickname), Cub Scout was a few years younger than me and I tried to explain to him that I wasn't interested in dating anyone who I potentially could have babysat as a child.

We finally made a mad dash and ditched him and hit up another bar.  I'm just going to preface this with saying, I was NOT a hot mess.  A few cocktails - yes.  Drunk as a skunk on the forth of July - no.  So as we approached the last bar, I finagled in my Marc Jacobs bag to find my ID.  I'm not sure if the door guy was more pissed that he was 20-something and still just a door guy or if he just hates Kansas.  I flashed my DL and headed in to the bar.  As I was walking in...seriously like FIVE steps, I kind of rolled my ankle - any female who wears heels - especially a short little shit like me who wears at least 3 inch heels at the very least knows how easy it is to slightly stumble SOBER.  Apparently pissed off door guy thought I was wasted out of my mind and proceeded to stop me and tell me I was done and had to leave the bar.  Seriously?  SRSLY?!  I couldn't believe him!  I wasn't even that intoxicated - clearly because I can fully recall the story. I looked at him with disgust, spit in his face and left....KIDDING.  I did nothing of the sort.  I tried to explain that I had tripped over my own feet but he was not having it.  Whatever dude.  Sorry you hate life.

So with that being said - it took me less than one week to get kicked out of a bar.  Reallllll classy.

I think this post has gone on quite a bit - maybe too much.  But considering my uncle doesn't have internet at his house, my posts will probably be few and far between while I'm in Dallas at the local Starbucks.  Keep checking back and I'll let you in on the HOTTIE Southern gents (straight out of a Vineyard Vines or Polo catalog) and a few of my stories of working nights in the Emergency Department...kids do the darndest things!

-Stay Sassy, xo


missing love.

I miss being madly in love.

"I do my thing and you do yours. I am not in this world to live up to your expectations, and you are not in this world to live up to mine. You are you and I am I, and if by chance we find each other, then it is beautiful. If not, it can't be helped." - Fritz Perls

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love." -Neil Gaiman

"In your life, you meet people. Some you never think about again. Some, you wonder what happened to them. There are some that you wonder if they ever think about you. And then there are some you wish you never had to think about again. But you do."

Love me when I least deserve it, because that's when I really need it.” -Swedish Proverb

“You know that when I hate you, it is because I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul.” -Julie de Lespinasse

“If I never met you, I wouldn't like you. If I didn't like you, I wouldn't love you. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't miss you. But I did, I do, and I will.”

-Stay Sassy, xo


Dear Bloggers - Present and Future

So this week I learned you can't post pictures of Gaga and her wardrobe malfunction or you will get reported.  Thank you to whoever reported me...but seriously...get a life.  I'm assuming it's someone who accidentally stumbled upon my blog googling pictures of "Colin Egglesfield" -  I know this because there's a little setting I can look at to see how people arrive at my website.  And aside from me posting a link on my fb page, that's how I get a majority of my other hits.  But seriously...come on...those pictures are plastered all over the flipping internet.  All you have to put in to google is "Gaga" and her nips pop up.  No one under the age of 18 should be reading my blog anyway.

The entire nation is talking about the Weiner scandal for obvious reasons yet I get slammed for talking about Gaga and her barely there attire (note to self - don't marry anyone with the last name of Weiner and go in to politics or urology - you're just asking for it).  So dumb.  Anyway - if you're thinking about being a blogger - don't post readily available almost nude pics or you will get flagged.  So, I'm sorry to my readers if you've had to click on the button that you "accept my blog may or may not be offensive" each time you come to my page.  Believe me, it's just as annoying to me as it is to you. Double woof.

Oh...and another thing you shouldn't blog about - weight.  It pisses the skinny people off when you call them skinny.  It pisses the chunky people off when you say they need to lose weight.  So I advise you not to do it - although there's an 85% chance I'll probably do it again at some point.  I have also learned it's okay if you do it about yourself.  But, you won't find me blogging or reading about skinny girls bitching about how life sucks being skinny.  I'll stick a burger in their face and tell them to shove it.  For the record, I'm not one of "those" girls - I'm just average plain Jane with a little junk in the trunk, but apparently need an inch or two more...according to my trainer.  He's smoking something funky.  I guess I should probably listen considering he's the one on magazine covers...not me.

Ok, that's enough.  My apartment is 88 degrees and I must get out before I melt like a butterball turkey....I bet you just read this and thought to yourself - that blog had no point.  I know I just did.  That's just how my mind is working today....900 miles an hour.

Happy FRIDAY!!!!

-Stay Sassy, xo


Dear KC Part II

Dear KC -

I know I left you hanging with my last post, but I had some things to finish up.  I've loved, loved, LOVED being back in Kansas City.  Being back with friends has been more than amazing and so much fun, to say the very least.  With many of you, it was like I was never gone.  We immediately picked right back up where we left off and I feel like I was never gone.  Thanks to the many welcome back drinks and shots, I think I may have gained a small percentage of my tolerance back that I seemed to have lost over the past two years in PA School.  I wish I could individually thank each and every one of you, but I know I'd inadvertently miss someone and then, boom...I'm the bad guy.  Many of you I didn't get to hang out with nearly enough and some of you I didn't even get to see.  I wish I had more time.

Now on to the lessons in love/lust I've been taught and/or reminded of.

KC, over the past 6 weeks you taught me what it means to "hang out."  Last time I checked, when you asked someone if they wanted to hang out, that meant you wanted to spend time with them, get to know them better...and maybe stay sober.  Apparently, not anymore.  I felt like I was singing another verse in that stupid Tim McGraw song, Back When.  NEWS FLASH..."Hang out" is now code for, "Hey do you want to come over so I can have sex with you?"  Total letdown.  I actually kind of liked this guy - which is actually huge for me considering I've been anti-boys for the past year - until I realized he only wanted to "hang out" the second way and not the first.  Woof.  

You also reminded me meeting love interests happens when you least expect it.  Except, even when you least expect it, timing is still everything.  I met plaid shirt guy one random Thursday night at Kona Grill.  We had been eyeing each other all night and he was yet to approach me.  A few glasses of wine later and after a pep talk from a friend, I decided to make the first move and approach him.  We had wonderful conversation and plaid shirt was really impressing me.  Until I found out he was moving to Chicago.  Bummer.  

We went out on a date anyway and it was amazing.  Complete gentleman.  Smart. Successful.  Really seemed like he had his shit together.  So we hung out a second time before he left - and by that I mean the first definition of hanging out - what I thought hanging out was...sober.  He kept saying all these sweet things to me and acted like he was totally in to me asking about my life, my career, etc.  He even shared with me how he told his boss and his boss's wife all about me (I mean I am kind of a big deal).  Plans of a trip to Chicago were spoken of leading me to believe he wanted to continue talking after he left to see what could happen.  After all, STL is closer to Chicago than KC - which he actually pointed out.  Yea, right...I almost believed it.  Since, the only time I've heard from him was when I texted him to make sure he made it to Chicago okay.  Just as I expected.  Double woof.

So KC, I guess it comes down to this.  We have a love-hate relationship with one another.  I love you for my friends and being close to my family.  I love you for the Plaza and the Falloon.  I love you for First Fridays and Sol Cantina.  I love you for Prairie Village, Mission Hills and the Zinn's.  I love you for reminding me how far I've come over the past two years. But I hate you for my love life - or lack there of.  So that leaves me with this... 

...Bring it on Dallas.  Show me the sweet southern gentleman I deserve.  I'm ready.

-Stay Sassy, xo

Dear KC Part I

Dear KC -

Thank you for ALMOST restoring my faith in relationships, men...and I dare I say it...l-l-l-l...nope can't do it.  For about 10 days I almost thought I'd met a few decent chaps...turns out their crap like the rest of them.  Sorry boys.

Proof and stories still to come.  I'm overwhelmed this week working on my massive project I'll be presenting Friday as part of my requirements for the PA Program at SLU in front of the entire faculty and PA Program - both 2011s (me) and the 2012s.  WOOF.

Love to you all...well most of you.

-Stay Sassy, xo
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