Frogs

I am without frogs. I told the creepy 41 year old not to call me anymore. Yes, it turns out he has issues. I'm not particularly surprised. In fact, I sort of called it. What, with him proposing to me damn near every day. This Saturday it will be one week since Island boy has called me. I have not called him ( be cool, Ice Cold) and even though I want to, I won't (c) Gwen Stefani, she sang it so well in Suspension without Suspense. I know what the outcome will be if I call him...and what it should be. Hopefully, I'm getting closer to finding a prince. But it's still looking bleak. The other day at the tire shop, two of the tire guys hit on me. Both appeared to be pretty wack. Prior to that, I discovered that I have a very cute Latin neighbor living across the street from me. He saw me outside trying to figure out how to change my flat tire and replace it with a dummy spare, and he ran over (like a prince would) and asked if he could please do it for me :). Of course, I let him. Since telling the 41 year old to kick rocks, he's begged me twice via text message for another chance, and called me 6 times since lunch today. For some people, kindness is not enough. He is one such person. He needs a therapist and i told him so. I hope this weekend is so much fun and so productive that these frogs become distant memories. I have an action packed plan that includes a Fruits de Mer (fruits of the sea) party, sample sales, dancing and mingling, and an outdoor reggae music fest.
I won't hold my breath, though. And I won't call.