Amanda's Blog

Amanda's Bio | Amanda's Gallery

THE WAITING GAME
November 20, 2009

Okay, kids, Momma's got an itch that needs scratching, and only one daddy out there can do it. That said, Matt Hartley is taking his sweet-ass time with his scratching stick. Now I consider myself a patient person. If you're using the Xerox for something "work-related" when I need to photocopy my boobs 'cause I'm bored, I'll give you five seconds before I completely flip out on you. Heck, on a good day, ten. That said, waiting for Matt to ask me out is taking FOR-EVER. What is his issue? I am sending all the signs -- smiling, casual touching, the occasional nip slip -- and he still doesn't get it. One time, I was winking so much at Matt, he asked if I was having a seizure. Now granted, I was (note to self: keep tabs on blood sugar), but I like to think I "seize hot" -- it should have forced his hand. Anyway, my obsess-orizing was driving me nuts and made me realize: I needed to find a hobby, something to take my mind off Matt. So that's what I did.

First, I turned to the refuge of the lonely-pathetic-teenage-girl: poetry. Even though it didn't work, I wrote some amazing stuff. My fave is this nifty haiku:

Most clothes I won't wear, (5)
unless made from the nose hair (7)
of my billi'naire. (5)

Huh. In retro, maybe that's not so good. Also, it's creepier than I remember. Gross, too. Moving on... since poetry wasn't getting it done, I realized I was going about this whole taking-my-mind-off-pouncing-Matt thing wrong. Instead of doing brainy stuff like writing, I needed to work off my physical friskiness with physical exercise.

So I tried yoga, but that didn't go so well. Why? Oh, I don't know... maybe 'cause I was groaning, sweating, writhing and twisting my body into super-hot positions on top of this thing called a "yoga mat." How could I do poses like "downward facing dog" on my mat and not wish my other Matt was doing a downward facing dog on me? So not helpful. After that, I took a tango class, where I was partnered with a guy named "Pat" (again, not helpful) and got kicked out 'cause Pat said I was "too aggressive." From there, I tried a strip aerobics class. The less said about that, the better.

Finally, I tried working out my sexual frustration with arts and crafts -- namely, origami. I turned my reception desk into an origami wildlife preserve. After all, what's less sexual than cute paper animals? Well, that's what I thought, until I noticed something about my cute paper animals: yeah, they were all anatomically correct. How does that even happen?! Everywhere I looked, cranes with tiny pointy hoo-hoos were hollering at unicorns with tiny folded ha-has. I was horrified. Then Betty accidentally knocked a bunch into my lap; they all piled on top of each other, bumping uglies -- my origami had become orgy-gami. (Or porn-igami?) It was so intense I passed out.

As horrifying as it was, all my failures made one thing clear to me: I cannot stop thinking about Matt. At the same time, I just can't wait for him to take the initiative anymore. I hate to do it, but I've got to break my word about not going after Matt for Betty's sake -- I'm going to have to ask him out. It's the only way. At least then maybe I'll get Matt off my mind -- and on me.