A wedding love connection (with a twist)

Now before you get too excited thinking that there was some magic chemistry between me and Kevin Costner at the wedding... don't. There was no love connection to be had.

(Not even enough to elicit a teensy smooch.)

However, there was a love connection at the wedding this weekend. Actually, there were several. But they were all bromances involving blogdad.

Always a Bridesmaid wedding weekend love matches: 0

Blogdad wedding weekend love matches: 2.5 (the .5 was actually Kevin Costner, who appeared to try to win me over by purchasing several vodka tonics for blogdad... but even blogdad wasn't really all that interested in him)

Oh well. You win some, you lose some.

Regardless, we still all had a great time, despite the fact that the air conditioning in the hotel forgot how to work, leaving us to get ready in 80+-degree rooms.

A few highlights:

• Blogdad dirty dancing with every single one of my friends (Every. Single. One.), including an incident where my friend Shannon lost her footing and fell to the ground, to which the DJ responded "White girl down!" over the microphone.


• Me asking a few of the older wedding guests if they wanted to borrow my gladiator-style BCBG heels to break it down on the dance floor. Turns out, they were all nuns. (Seriously.)


• Our friend Jen announcing her issues with IBS to the table over dinner, then asking me if I would write about it on the blog. (Guess this answers THAT question, huh, Jen?)


• Our other friend explaining to all of us what a "blumpkin" is. Click on that link if you want to vomit.


• Our friend Molly's husband dancing to "Eye of the Tiger," complete with scenes involving an imaginary jump rope and chicken. (Truth be told, our friend Mandi meant for this song to serve as the backdrop for a push-up contest between her and me, but I told her I wouldn't go through with it for fear of my Spanx showing while I was in the plank position.)


• Ending the nite after a nightcap (or three) at the hotel bar, then heading to our room to munch on crackers in bed while sipping Kahlua.

So, sorry to disappoint, readers. I know there has been a real lack of fun dating stories lately. (And if you think that makes for boring reading... imagine having to LIVE this life!)

But, my lunch date (if you can call it that) with The Ram is this week, so maybe that will bring some excitement. And if that doesn't work out... maybe we can check back in later this week on how blogdad's bromances are going.

Back at it

Well, friends. It's official. Wedding season '09 is kicking off this weekend. My very dear friend Michele is gettin' hitched! (Let's hope the townies from her bachelorette party don't try to crash the wedding!)

I'm very much looking forward to being a straight-up wedding guest for the first time in what seems like eons. I mean, I have always been honored to be a bridesmaid and/or maid of honor in my sissies' and friends' weddings. But sometimes, it's actually kinda sorta fun to just be a guest too. Why?

• I got to pick out my own dress. (It's a silk magenta halter dress... with pockets!)


• I don't have to lug that damn wedding day survival kit around all day. (Though I am letting the maid of honor borrow the kit contents for her duties -- that crap is expensive to buy for just one day, and my kit is still pretty well stocked from the last time I used it!)


• I don't have any responsibilities! (Other than doing a reading at the ceremony. And then later getting ridiculously drunk and dominating the dance floor with blogmom and blogdad. OK, so I do sort of have some responsibilities after all. But two out of three ain't bad.)

And, I'm also very interested to see what this whole Kevin Costner look-alike character is all about. I mean, it is Summer of Sin after all.

(Too bad blogdad is probs going to put the kibosh on anything involving boys. I'm effing 33 years old and still feel like a 14-year-old girl around him.)

Anyhow, talk to you after the wedding! And (early) congrats, Michele and Eric! :)

P.S. If you were me... where would you sneak off for a quick smooch with a cute boy (should you encounter one) where your blogparents would not be likely to find you? Ya know... just in case...

A blilestone (blog + milestone)

I don't know which blog milestone is a bigger deal... hitting my 200th post or getting my 69th follower.

(My maturity level rivals that of a seventh-grade boy sometimes. Oh, hell. Who am I kidding? Probably more like a 35-year-old boy.)

Anyhow, thanks for following, reading and commenting, everyone! Wonder what the next 200 posts will bring... anyone care to take a guess?

From pocket-sized to Kevin Costner

Know what I realized a long weekend brings to my dating life?

Just another possible day to meet guys who are soooooo not right for me.

I had fun plans all weekend and thought for sure that I would meet at least one guy who even just kinda sorta piqued my interest.

Ummm... not so much. (Though I did have a great time with my girlfriends, so at least it wasn't a total waste.)

A quick overview of the boys who entered my life this weekend:

• Friday: The pocket-sized Indian guy who sent over two bottles of champagne to my friends and me when we were at Lola, then ended up joining us for about 20 minutes and picking up our entire $200+ desserts and drinks tab (hey, it's not so bad being out with a bunch of cute girls sometimes!!)


• Saturday: The pocket-sized guy from Miami (Florida, not the university) who thought he was hot shit because he owned a couple of businesses and was only 26 (though I never would have guessed he was as successful as he claimed based on his polyester shirt)


• Sunday: The pocket-sized too-tan guys from Medina who each had donkeys hanging out of their back pockets from their winnings at the rib cook-off (in other words... the donkeys should have been a tip-off to the two asses)

So, there were no potential Mr. May-bes in that bunch, ladies and gentlemen. (And a bunch of pocket-sized guys to boot.)

And, I realized when looking at my calendar for the week that my lunch with The Ram (the only guy I've even considered as a potential suitor in recent history) isn't until next week. Geez.

In happier news, I'm only working three days this week, then heading to Toledo for my very good friend Michele's wedding. Believe it or not, I'm not a bridesmaid this time around (though I am doing a reading at the ceremony).

And, apparently, the soon-to-be groom is conspiring to fix me up with his friend (who lives down in one of the Carolinas BTW... not a ton of potential there). But, I'm told he looks like Kevin Costner... which could be a good thing (think Field of Dreams) or a bad thing (think Waterworld).

If nothing else, at least I've got an open bar and lots of blackout & tonics heading my way this weekend... and, hopefully, a blog story or two.

Any of you have better luck meeting boys this weekend?

Men-morial Day typo

I just started to write a post about how I feel like I've been having writer's block lately, and I accidentally typed "writer's cock" instead. Ummm... yeah.

I will leave you with that little tidbit in anticipation of the upcoming long holiday weekend. Talk to you in a few days!

(And seriously... have fun this weekend. Be safe! Eat a lot! And get crackin' on that finders' fee while you're out celebrating and enjoying this gorge weather!)

Fancy seeing you here...

Have you ever had a weird feeling that the universe was trying to send you a message?

I've been randomly seeing The Ram (who I met through mutual friends a couple of years ago and have subsequently seen a few times since then) for the past couple of weeks. Hadn't seen him since last summer, and then, in the span of just a few days, I ran into him about four or five times. (Hence the name The Ram... because I keep running into him.)

It all started when I saw him out during lunch about two weeks ago. We exchanged friendly hellos, but I honestly didn't think much of it... especially because I was pretty sure he didn't even remember my name.

Then we crossed paths during lunchtime a few days later. We waved and yelled "hi!" to each other across the street, but didn't stop to chat.

Early last week, I was walking to an Indians game with a bunch of guys from work and saw The Ram sitting in his car waiting to pull out (TWSS) as the guys and I were crossing the street. He started waving to me from inside his car and, after wondering who the hell was waving to me for a second, I realized who it was and popped over to say hi.

And, in the spirit of Mr. May-be (this month's proactive manhunt adventures), I told The Ram that we should just grab lunch already for as much as we'd been running into each other. He agreed.

So I took his card, emailed him a few times last week and booked a lunch date for next week. (Our calendars didn't work out until then -- boo!)

After all of the weird run-ins, I finally told my friends about all of the random sightings to see if they thought it was as bizarre as I did. Being a great wingwoman (and a loyal blog reader who knows the sorry state of my dating life right now), my friend (the one who knows both me and The Ram) texted him to come meet us, and 15 minutes later he showed up for a couple of drinks. (He had to leave shortly thereafter because he had other plans for the nite, but in the short time he was there we confirmed that he is not dating anyone right now.)

After all of this randomness, I really felt like the universe was trying to tell me something. I mean, I don't run into people I work with as much as I was running into this guy.

So I almost couldn't believe it yesterday when I ran into The Ram again. This time, at the gym. (Yes, you read that correctly. The gym. Not jazzercise.)

I was taking a dance class that my friend teaches at the Rocky River Fitworks (which was super fun, BTW) and happened to catch a glimpse of The Ram standing right outside the room we were in. For realz? I nearly fainted. (Then again, that could have been attributed to all of the dancing to Michael Jackson.) When class was over, he happened to be standing about 20 feet outside the group fitness room, so we briefly chatted (as I was dripping with sweat, mind you... like I had just re-enacted that scene from Flashdance) before I headed to my car.

So is it possible that all of these were just weird coincidences? (Minus the planned drinks pop-in at the Greenhouse Tavern.) Or is the universe trying to tell me something? Guess we'll find out at my lunch soiree with The Ram next week. Unless, of course, I run into him before then...

Important P.S.: I have always thought that The Ram is pretty much one of the funniest people I ever met in my life. Which, as you know, is trait #1 on the AAB boy wish list. Hmmm...

***** UPDATE *****

My friend just reminded me that she and I ran into The Ram at D'vine in between the biz card exchange and The Greenhouse Tavern run-in. I ran into him so much, I forgot one of the run-ins!!!

A new blog there, fewer comments here

Since I was outed to The Greek after our date back in March, he has been known to comment (as MG) a time or two (or 75) on posts here at 27 Dresses in Cleveland.

And I can honestly say that no one person has elicited such strong reactions from you guys. Especially lately. I'm not quite sure what happened, but in the past couple of weeks it seems that many of you have been a tad irritated by the length (and possibly the frequency?) of MG's comments on my blog.

In fact, in the past week there were even a couple of you suggesting that MG should just start his own blog if he has so many opinions about dating.

Well, it appears that he listened. (Amazing, ladies. Boys do listen to what we have to say sometimes! But maybe that's only when sports or the Victoria's Secret fashion show aren't on TV.)

Anyhow, it seems that MG decided to start his own dating blog called Cure to Your Sickness.

From what I can gather, he's going to use his new blog to provide the male perspective on many of the stories that are published here on this little ol' blog. (And, I'm guessing, other stories of his own too. Because let's be honest. My pathetic dating life can't possibly give him enough fodder.)

So, if you've liked what MG has had to say over the past couple of months, check out his new blog to get his take on many of the things that happen here at 27 Dresses.

And if you've been one of the "Calgon, take him away!" readers... well, be glad that he's taking his opinions to a new forum and you don't have to read them here anymore.

We now return to your regularly-scheduled blogging. And the last week before the official kick-off to Summer of Sin (which I deem Memorial Day).

Sidenote: for all my reader friends who want to kick off Summer of Sin in style with me, shoot me an email and let's get something on the calendar for a Saturday (May 23) girls' nite out. Fun!

S.O.S.: Take 4... coming to a blog near you

First, let me define S.O.S. for you: Summer of Sin.

S.O.S. started several summers ago when I was single and finally ready to start dating. I had mentally moved on from The Murse and was ready to start rocking the dating scene again. About three weeks after I announced the kick off to S.O.S., I met The Divorcee and we immediately started dating.

S.O.S. (the inaugural) was a FAIL.

(Not that I meant S.O.S. to be a huge whorefest. I just wanted to date a lot of different people after being with the same person for longer than most Hollywood marriages last.)

Since that summer, I've dubbed every subsequent hot weather season Summer of Sin. And I just realized today when looking at my calendar that I'm quickly approaching Summer of Sin: Take 4.

(As background for you, S.O.S.: Take 1 was spent with The Divorcee. S.O.S.: Take 2 was spent with The Mouse. S.O.S.: Take 3 was spent with... well, a bunch of losers. And it was actually the reason I started this blog!!)

So, I've gotta tell ya. The idea behind S.O.S. was very fun in theory. But now that I've lived through "spoiled" S.O.S.s (where I ended up dating/hanging out with one person for the entire summer) and a "legit" S.O.S. (where I ended up being single and attempting to date), I really prefer the "spoiled" version of S.O.S. (Like, a lot more.)

There's just something about summer that makes it more fun to have a BF. Someone to know you're going to hang out with on the warm-weather weekends. Someone to grab a weeknite beer on a patio with. Someone to chow a hot dog (and a hot pretzel!) at the ballpark with. Someone to do anything fun with.

But... since summer is upon us and I have virtually no prospects on the dating horizon, I guess I'll say what I always say at this time of year: "Summer of Sin... let it begin!"

Who's with me?

I like you a latte

One of my fave parts about having this blog is getting emails from you guys about things you've tried in the dating world or ideas you have to jump charge my love life.

(I could, however, do without feeling like a complete techie a-hole when I can't get a video to upload or figure out line spacing.)

Anyhow, today's entry is actually an email I got from a reader about a totally ballsy move she recently tried. (Don't worry -- she said I could publish it.)

So, without further ado, take a gander at how the move Piper made was as smooth as Colombian coffee...

*****

Okay, so here was the set up...

I was at a Starbucks with a friend, and we were both studying. This cute guy walked in, and I made eye contact with him a couple times from way across the Starbucks. He ended up sitting at a table close to my friend and I. The next two hours were pretty boring. We did our work, he had his nose in his computer. I actually left to meet someone else and go do something, and kicked myself for not saying anything.

An hour later I was finished with friend 2 and went back the coffee shop where Friend 1 was still sitting, and so was this guy. At that point he was on the phone and speaking in German of all things.

I pretended to do work for another half hour, while really G-chatting with Friend 1 about how I could go about making an intro. (AAB sidenote: ha ha ha! I love this! Girls totally do this all the time, whether they admit it or not.) Other people online advised me to just say "hi" and introduce myself, and see what happened.

I was really close to chickening out, and then he was packing up to go. We made eye contact a few times as he was packing up, and so I went over and said, "Hi, my name is Piper. I just wanted to come over and introduce myself." He said his name was P and did I want to sit down. So I did.

And we talked about what we each do, and I asked where he's from (Germany), and after a couple minutes felt like everyone in the Starbucks (or at least the immediate vicinity) was staring at me slack-jawed so I wrapped it up.

Now. He did not actually ASK for my phone number. But I offered it, and he took it. I said to call me sometime, if he was interested in grabbing a drink or something. And I went to sit back down, sweating profusely (thank goodness it was chilly and a sweater was appropriate), and he left.

He hasn't called, not that I'm *really* expecting him to. :)

It was intense. I would not recommend doing this without having some semblance of a plan. Because there's that awkward pause for a second where you don't know what to say beyond "Hi, my name is..."

But, on the upside, several people in the vicinity who witnessed the whole throw down afterwards were like "That was awesome. I always want to do that, but never do! Way to go!"

I think it was definitely cool to show myself that I CAN do it. And maybe some day it'll even work :) Although I love Craigslist "Missed Connections" I hope to never be the subject of one, b/c I'll have the cajones to DO something about it, instead of pining in silence.

You should totally try it!

*****

And, I'm happy to report... I got a follow-up email from Piper a couple of days later saying that the German called her! And they are going out this coming weekend! FUN!

I have to admit... I'm not sure I'd have the balls to try this. I mean, I am FAR from shy, but I just figure with my luck... the guy's wife or GF would come strolling out of the bathroom as I was standing there hitting on him.

What ideas do you have for how/where to meet guys?

Man Monday

It's baaaaa-aaaaack.

(Man Monday, that is. Not that hangover you got this weekend from doing too many LeBomb James shots.)

Anyhow, this week's guest Man Monday post comes from The Pirate.

(Why The Pirate? Because he wears a lot of aaaarrrgh-gyle. Ha ha ha.)

In this episode of Man Monday, The Pirate shares a story about how he snagged an outing with a girl. (And how I helped.)

See? I'm really not as dating backwards as my recent dating adventures would suggest. (I just obviously can't help myself as well as I help others.)

*****

If you’ll forgive the reference to a Shaquille O’Neal rap song for a second, I wanted to tell you a story about AAB’s “skillz to make mills.”

Recently, I was out at a bar with a bunch of people (stop me if you’ve heard this one before) having a good time and blowing off some steam. The night started off as a conversation among many, but as the night wore on I realized I was spending most of my time talking to one girl in particular. The conversation ran the gamut, and I really wasn’t trying to push the envelope in one way or another. I was trying to play it cool which, if you know me, is really difficult because I’m anything but cool.

At the end of the night I gave her my business card (a well-known AAB move) with no real expectations that anything would come of it. Then, just the other day I heard from her saying, “thank you for the other night," and that she had a good time. I replied and said, “cool, what’s new?” She mentioned to me that she was kind of bored and was looking for things to do.

This is where AAB came in to play...

Normally I’d consider that just an idle comment, but given our lengthy conversation I wasn’t so sure. So I consulted with AAB about what my next move should be. She thought I should suggest an informal get together with a bunch of people and, if she ignored it, I would know I was reading too much into it. (AAB sidenote: there is a bit more detail about this story that isn't shared here by The Pirate, but I knew the best approach with this particular lady interest was the group outing suggestion.)

Well………….. she replied to me later in the evening saying she would love to get together. SWEET!!! AAB comes through yet again!

I knew she had skills, but who knew she had the “skillz to make mills?!?!”

P.S. how ridiculous is that video? For that matter, how ridiculous is it watching Shaquille O’Neal rapping?

P.P.S. By the way, is anyone else pissed at the saboteur for inviting all these damn comments from The Greek? You’d think it’s his blog for as much as he comments, no?

*****

So, now the ball is in The Pirate's ship... er... court. (Whatevs.) Regardless, I was happy to serve as the virtual wingwoman on this one, and hope this turns into something fab! Good luck! (And keep us all posted. We can't wait to hear how it goes!)

P.S. the reference to The Pirate reminded me of one of my cousin's favorite jokes: a pirate walks into a bar with a steering wheel hanging out of his pants. The bartender asks what it's there for. The pirate responds, "AAARRGGGH, I don't know, but it's driving me nuts."

Did you ever stop to think...

... that the phrase "son of a bitch" is really a dig at someone's mom?

Just sayin'.

Anyhow, I'm fairly certain no one has ever said that about blogmom. (In fact, most of the derogatory things I've heard about blogmom involved my guy friends making perverted comments about wanting to "get wit" her.)

If you don't regularly read her comments on posts, you should. Blogmom never fails to entertain.

So, on this day devoted to celebrating maternal fertility, I say HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, BLOGMOM! Love you!

(And happy "almost" Mother's Day to my pregs sissy!)

Thinking of me on your birthday*

*props to someecards for that phrase - hilarious!

I've written here before about how the only real contact The Murse and I have anymore is our obligatory birthday emails to each other.

This year's birthday email from him was especially bizarre to me. But when I received that pouring-out-his-heart letter from him a few months later, I realized why.

So, today is The Murse's birthday. And prior to getting that letter from him, I really had planned to just ignore it and let things naturally move on from there.

But since I never responded to the letter, I figured I would kill two birds with one stone today. So I wrote him a very nice, funny birthday email.

Told him how my one sissy's hubs is obsessed with finding "letters to the editor" in the newspaper written by his dad. (Seriously. The man has a letter in the Plain Dealer at least once a month.)

How my other sissy and her hubs are expecting a baby.

How I've got another summer of wedding fun lined up, and I'm very much looking forward to celebrating with our friends Michele/Eric and Jenn/Brian. (I got the friends in the break-up.)

And then, I acknowledged the letter.

I thanked him for what he said in it, then basically told him that I was sorry that I didn't really have a deep or profound response to it. Mostly because I had promised myself a long time ago that I couldn’t invest any more time into thinking about “what could have been” with us.

I thought that was the nicest way to let him know that I appreciated the gesture, but that it was still too little, too late.

I have a feeling I may not be getting that obligatory birthday email from him next year.

It's not you, it's me (actually, it's my roots)

OMG, I broke up with someone today.

My hairdresser.

It's actually been a long time coming. I have not been happy with my color for some time now. (You know. Because a lot of Italians are "naturally" blond.)

But yet, I probably stuck with my hairdresser for the same reasons I've stuck with ex-boyfriends for too long:

• I'm loyal to a fault. (But don't ever eff me over. Ever. I'll never forgive you.) I've been going to my hairdresser since I was in high school (minus a few years in college). She's seen me through all of my major relationships (and break-ups!), and I've seen her through hers. She even saved me from myself that one summer that I decided to use Sun-In. We go waaaaaaaay back.


• I'm always hopeful that bad habits will somehow go away. Picking a drunk nite with his friends over a date nite with me? Oh, he's just getting it out of his system and will be ready to settle down soon. Being oddly reserved with his emotions? Oh, it's just because he got hurt in his last relationship and needs time to build up trust with me. Having to part my hair in juuuuuust the right spot to avoid showing that weird white chunk of hair? Oh, it'll just be this way for the next 6-8 weeks and will probably be better next time.


• It generally takes a hell of a lot to make me end a relationship. Like not committing to me after six-plus years of dating. Or playing with my emotions because you're selfishly dealing with your own issues. Or leaving me with roots just two weeks after I saw you.

All kidding aside, this was not an easy break-up. (And who's to say we might not get back together again some day?)

But I also think (and hope!) she saw it coming and that it wasn't out of the blue. Because, as both my exes and my hairdresser alike know, it's not a huge secret when I'm not happy.

So, I guess it's over. A 15+ year relationship down the (hair-clogged) drain.

But, unlike my real dating life, I already have a rebound in the wings. Our first "date" is May 21. "Hair's" hoping for a better match this time around so I don't have to become a hairdresser whore.

(Don't worry, blogmom and blogdad. I'm not a whore in real life.)

Apparently, I'm not good at making the first move

So I am in a bit of a conundrum. As you know from yesterday's post, The Hugger pulled the Always a Bridesmaid signature move by giving me his business card on Saturday nite, leaving the next "move" in my court.

(I'm still sort of pissed about it. That is my move, damnit!)

Anyhow, I didn't call tonite because I went to "cardio class" after work, got home around 8:15, ate some grub, then briefly entertained my sissy and her hubs, who left my condo around 9:30.

(Sorry for boring you with the details. I promise it was for a reason.)

Soooo... I wasn't free until 9:30ish. And I felt like that was a tad too late to call someone for a first call, no?

(Humor me if you think I'm being lame-o. Let's remember that I haven't had a lot of boy interactions lately and am a bit rusty.)

Anywhooo... so, I didn't call The Hugger tonite. And I won't be able to call him tomorrow because I'm going out for Cinco de Drinko dinner and drinks.

So, here are my options:

• Wait to call him until Wednesday nite


• Send him a short little email tomorrow (Tuesday) -- possibly even asking what he is doing for Cinco de Mayo?!?!


• Shoot him a message through Facebook (we had joked about Facebook during our little convo on Saturday nite)

Now, I know I should just wait and call him because I am the one who is constantly bitching (to you!) about boys and dating in the digital age, and how they rely on texting and email instead of picking up the g.d. phone.

But I also don't want my lack of calling until Wednesday to be interpreted as me doing that stupid obligatory "wait 2 or 3 days" (or, in this case, four) to call rule. Or even worse: to be interpreted that I'm just not that into him.

See? I told you it was a conundrum. What would you guys do?

Bizarro World pick-up move

Anyone who knows me in real life knows that it's sort of my "thing" to pass my business card out (sometimes, like a poker dealer) to any cute boys I happen to be flirting with/interested in.

(It's much less awkward than standing there while a guy programs your number into his phone. Especially if he forgets your name.)

Anyhow, I was out on Saturday nite and ended up running into a friend I haven't seen since the '60s at Bier Markt.

(For those of you good at math... yes, I was not born until 1976. But go with me on this one. I hadn't seen him in a long, long time.)

Turns out, my friend's half-brother/step-brother (I don't remember which) was at the bar too, and we ended up chatting for much of the nite.

And then... it happened.

The cutie brother (aka The Hugger) realized he'd left his friends inside for most of the nite, so he asked if we'd be sticking around for a while (since he was going to run inside to quickly find his friends). When I told him we were leaving soon, he grabbed his wallet, pulled out a business card, handed it to me and told me to call him.

WHAT?!?!? That is MY move, mister.

(However, after being on the receiving end of this transaction, I admit that it was a very effective maneuver. As such, it will continue being my signature move. Ladies, you should try it too.)

So, I now have the card for a guy who is super cute, funny, chivalrous (as in, some uber-drunk douchebag called me a bitch at one point -- though I think he was calling everyone a bitch -- and The Hugger called him out and told him to never call me that again).

And, he gave me what could quite possibly be the best hug I have ever gotten. Like, an honest-to-goodness pick-me-off-the-ground bear hug.

(Thank God I hadn't eaten a heavy dinner.)

So now the ball is in my court. Wonder if The Hugger might be Mr. May-be.

P.S. Thanks to everyone who voted in the poll to name this month's dating adventures! And a heartfelt "hi" to all my new followers -- including you, Maura! ;)

Are all men pigs...

... or is it just this silly swine flu going around?

Or were men the root of the flu in the first place?

Hmmm... so much to ponder.

Have a great weekend, everyone! I plan to go hog wild! ;)

P.S. if you're worried you may have contracted swine flu, go here to find out for sure: http://doihaveswineflu.org/