<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487385537857381616</id><updated>2011-06-06T16:48:07.570-07:00</updated><category term='Tissa&apos;s booty'/><category term='virtual men'/><category term='pick up lines'/><category term='pathetic'/><title type='text'>Divatinis... A Way of Life</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Chrissytina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09262668831197973731</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487385537857381616.post-4367783217131087368</id><published>2008-07-08T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T11:23:31.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A new limb off the Divatinis blog</title><content type='html'>Hey girls!  I know I've been MIA as of late, buttttt, Im happy to report that Im still alive! yay!!  haha   I wanna thank everyone for coming out to my birthday a few weekends ago...I was so thrilled to see everyone, it was like a piece of my heart had come back haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just started my new blog today, so free to check it often...I hope to write in it often :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://latissachanelle.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://latissachanelle.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And...to whoever is the all-mighty webmaster...can you take that 18+ age thing off?  I cant link to the Diva blog because of it :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487385537857381616-4367783217131087368?l=divatinis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/feeds/4367783217131087368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487385537857381616&amp;postID=4367783217131087368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default/4367783217131087368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default/4367783217131087368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/2008/07/new-limb-off-divatinis-blog.html' title='A new limb off the Divatinis blog'/><author><name>Viva LaDiva</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00669850056271749555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Pmk0zzZrK_I/SHONx9mLwWI/AAAAAAAAAAk/-28BYlfp6E0/S220/CMCapture1-20.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487385537857381616.post-6269873019750561240</id><published>2008-02-27T10:07:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T10:09:52.782-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Medicated Dreams</title><content type='html'>I had this dream last night that I was dating Tyler...except he didn't really look like Tyler- he looked like Tyler crossed with Zach Morris and he snuck in my house to see me and tell me he had dumped his cheerleading girlfriend because he had a crush on me and his dad thought I was great having just seen me in the stands... also something about he loved a girl who had a brain and did pilates.  Anywho, the dream is so real and detailed (and I'm so feverish and medicated) that when I woke up in the middle of the night, I really thought it was Tyler/Zach in bed with me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487385537857381616-6269873019750561240?l=divatinis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/feeds/6269873019750561240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487385537857381616&amp;postID=6269873019750561240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default/6269873019750561240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default/6269873019750561240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/2008/02/crazy-medicated-dreams.html' title='Crazy Medicated Dreams'/><author><name>Chrissytina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09262668831197973731</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487385537857381616.post-5256650308022494548</id><published>2008-02-21T06:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T16:07:26.511-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's True Friendship Week!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SOqd4iTZkvM/R72JD5XErZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/JhSEQ2wxMBs/s1600-h/True+Friendship.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169438647321406866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SOqd4iTZkvM/R72JD5XErZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/JhSEQ2wxMBs/s400/True+Friendship.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SOqd4iTZkvM/R72IqJXErYI/AAAAAAAAAAM/HO_Sw0MW8J8/s1600-h/True+Friendship.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #c0c0c0"&gt;To All My Divas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #c0c0c0"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #c0c0c0"&gt;Just a reminder of how truly blessed we are to have such a wonderfully supportive, dynamic, and fabulous group of sisters/friends/family!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #c0c0c0"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #c0c0c0"&gt;Though this week is "True Friendship" week, I celebrate and value my friendships every day of the year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #c0c0c0"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #c0c0c0"&gt;Much love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #c0c0c0"&gt;CandiBee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487385537857381616-5256650308022494548?l=divatinis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/feeds/5256650308022494548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487385537857381616&amp;postID=5256650308022494548' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default/5256650308022494548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default/5256650308022494548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/2008/02/its-true-friendship-week.html' title='It&apos;s True Friendship Week!'/><author><name>CandiBee (Iron Duke Diva)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389625779274416920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_SOqd4iTZkvM/R72SoJXErbI/AAAAAAAAAAg/2-dkRFaSvBQ/S220/tonya_11.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SOqd4iTZkvM/R72JD5XErZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/JhSEQ2wxMBs/s72-c/True+Friendship.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487385537857381616.post-8375185143118208826</id><published>2008-02-20T10:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T16:07:26.645-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Product Made Just for Divas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xRvZqicKOSc/R7x2gLko0JI/AAAAAAAAAAM/9ubvcL-Zx3k/s1600-h/c2_mph_top.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169136767548838034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xRvZqicKOSc/R7x2gLko0JI/AAAAAAAAAAM/9ubvcL-Zx3k/s320/c2_mph_top.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bad dates? Worry no more!! The stylish new mp3 player/taser! Available in a variety of colors so you can really accessorize&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487385537857381616-8375185143118208826?l=divatinis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/feeds/8375185143118208826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487385537857381616&amp;postID=8375185143118208826' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default/8375185143118208826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default/8375185143118208826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/2008/02/product-made-just-for-divas.html' title='A Product Made Just for Divas'/><author><name>Chrissytina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09262668831197973731</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xRvZqicKOSc/R7x2gLko0JI/AAAAAAAAAAM/9ubvcL-Zx3k/s72-c/c2_mph_top.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487385537857381616.post-6320163849677705947</id><published>2008-02-20T09:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T10:03:18.673-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tissa&apos;s booty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pick up lines'/><title type='text'>"They Dont Grow'em Like That 'Round Herre!"</title><content type='html'>We've read about the insanely ridiculous dates and the virtual boyfriends (Chris...I am NOT letting you live that one down), but I have to add another genre to this: pick-up lines.  Yes, pick-up lines.  You have your classic "did it hurt? when? when you fell from heaven?" and "Are your legs tired" lines.  I never really go on dates, but I swear, I get the most....&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;creative&lt;/span&gt; pick-up lines/"lemmie holla atcha" scenarios ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case in point....when I was 19, I wanted to go out with my cool 21-yr-old cousin Tiffany in Va Beach a talk to college boys and be all grown and whatnot, so we went to some party that night, which was pretty uneventful....until we hit up the 24hr. IHOP afterwards.  We're leaving IHOP, paying at the counter, and there's a gaggle of people waiting to be seated.  I look up, and there's this one  group of, like 15 people, 4 of them being kids....AT 4AM, MIND YOU.  I happen to see one particularly dirrty man in the group...mid-30s...bald head...STRONG Southern accent, dirty ripped up jeans...an 'assortment' of teeth...and a ratty white undershirt with pit stains and holes galore.  Completely classy, ladies.  He grins at me....eww...and I knew....I KNEW he was gonna say something to me.  So I warn my cousin with the "protect me from this crazy ass fool" look as he walked over to me...and this is what happens:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;IHOP Man&lt;/span&gt; (in southern accent): "hey, gal"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt; (rolling my eyes): "hey"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;IHOP Man&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;looking me up and down &lt;/span&gt;"what's your name?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;: "tonya"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;IHOP Man&lt;/span&gt;: "damn, girl...where you from?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;: "not here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;IHOP Man&lt;/span&gt;: "You muss be from Dekayyytah (translation: Decatur, GA)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;puzzled&lt;/span&gt; "no..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;IHOP Man&lt;/span&gt;: "Down Souf, like, New Owlins or sumthin?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;getting irritated&lt;/span&gt; "no...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;IHOP Man&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;staring at my ass&lt;/span&gt; "you sho?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;full-blown attitude&lt;/span&gt; "YES, why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;IHOP Man&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yelling loudly while blatantly staring at my ass&lt;/span&gt; "cuz DAM gurl they dont grow'em like that 'round herre!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Laughter from all the people in earshot in the waiting area&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;::Quick exit, stage right::&lt;/blockquote&gt;.....my cousin Tiffany still calls me to this day to tell me "they dont grow'em like that 'round herre".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no horrible date stories, but believe me....I have SO much to share :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487385537857381616-6320163849677705947?l=divatinis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/feeds/6320163849677705947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487385537857381616&amp;postID=6320163849677705947' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default/6320163849677705947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default/6320163849677705947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/2008/02/they-dont-growem-like-that-round-herre.html' title='&quot;They Dont Grow&apos;em Like That &apos;Round Herre!&quot;'/><author><name>Viva LaDiva</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00669850056271749555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Pmk0zzZrK_I/SHONx9mLwWI/AAAAAAAAAAk/-28BYlfp6E0/S220/CMCapture1-20.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487385537857381616.post-1742244015095703730</id><published>2008-02-20T08:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T09:08:50.213-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='virtual men'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pathetic'/><title type='text'>A Non-Date Life</title><content type='html'>Bad dates suck... but still sometimes they're better than no dates at all.  Back when I first came to Carolina, I was just a TAD shy especially around boys.  They ask to borrow a pencil, I blush and start sweating and can't form words.  So at that time the only men in my life were the members of NSync.  Yes, you heard me correctly.  All my energies, my crushes, and WAY too much of my spare time was focused on Justin's favorite dinner or JC's favority hobbies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, also around that time I had no friends in the state... except for my friend Meredith, who I had met virtually through a "dirty" Nsync Fan-Fiction website (which I used to write... it gets better and better doesn't it).   Time when I wasn't in class was spent usually writing my nsync stories, IMing friends, or reading romance novels.  Boys?  Ha!  I still couldn't even get up the nerve to talk to one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say I was a little lonely, and my friend Meredith, who was much like me in the social situation, felt the same way.  So one night, in a fit of boredom, I create a new screen name... and IM Meredith pretending to be "Justin".  Yes, THAT Justin, Mr. JT.  Next thing I know, "JC" is IMing me... and so it began.  For about a year I had a "virtual" boyfriend, who was actually my best friend pretending to be JC from NSync.  The conversations would last HOURS and would turn into these complex stories about our life together and getting married and the baby we had (oh yes, it was an unplanned pregnancy, JC was totally unprepared, almost broke us up).  And remember, the whole time I was pretending to be "Justin"... thus sometimes there would be four conversations going on at once... Justin talking to JC, Justin talking to Meredith, Chris talking to Meredith, and JC talking to Chris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the sad part- I have one of the conversations saved.  Maybe, just maybe, I'll post it for a good laugh or two. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, bad dates suck, but.... it could be worse :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487385537857381616-1742244015095703730?l=divatinis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/feeds/1742244015095703730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487385537857381616&amp;postID=1742244015095703730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default/1742244015095703730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default/1742244015095703730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/2008/02/non-date-life.html' title='A Non-Date Life'/><author><name>Chrissytina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09262668831197973731</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487385537857381616.post-9110562004517139557</id><published>2008-02-20T08:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T16:07:26.785-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Divatini Logo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5qZIbzzZ-hg/R7xTOrfO3cI/AAAAAAAAAAM/-GlhpEVhOLA/s1600-h/divatini+logo.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169097983971483074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5qZIbzzZ-hg/R7xTOrfO3cI/AAAAAAAAAAM/-GlhpEVhOLA/s320/divatini+logo.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487385537857381616-9110562004517139557?l=divatinis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/feeds/9110562004517139557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487385537857381616&amp;postID=9110562004517139557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default/9110562004517139557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default/9110562004517139557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/2008/02/divatini-logo.html' title='Divatini Logo'/><author><name>MacDaddy Diva</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18229721444574595228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5qZIbzzZ-hg/R7xTOrfO3cI/AAAAAAAAAAM/-GlhpEVhOLA/s72-c/divatini+logo.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487385537857381616.post-1081898973121180257</id><published>2008-02-20T07:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T10:15:54.311-08:00</updated><title type='text'>VALuptuous Diva’s Worst Date Ever</title><content type='html'>Saturday night will definitely go down as my worst date ever. Several divas have already heard the story and found it quite amusing… so I’m posting it for everyone’s enjoyment (or dismay.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wayne and I had been chatting for a couple of weeks when I finally decided to take him up on one of his offers to go out. We decided that we would meet in Brier Creek for dinner and a movie at 6:00 on Saturday night. About 4:30, I got a call from Wayne asking if we could change our location to Northgate Mall in Durham. He said that he wanted to see the newly renovated theatre… plus they serve beer there. So I’m like ok, that’ll work. I had never been to Northgate before, so he gave me directions. We decided to meet a little later (7:30) and do dinner (Ruby Tuesday) and a late movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wayne beat me to Ruby Tuesday and called to tell me he would be waiting inside. I walked in and started looking for him at a table or a booth. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone waving… it was Wayne. At the bar. So, I joined him. I ordered a beer after the bartender let me sit there for a good five minutes while she did nothing. She sucked. She also cut her hand while we were there… total moron. After ordering my drink, Wayne told me he wasn’t very hungry, but I could order something if I wanted to. I realized we were not going to eat dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Strike 1, Wayne!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Wayne and I started chatting. As we talked he kept looking me up and down and talked to “the girls” several times. Talk about uncomfortable. I was making small talk, and this is how our first discussion went:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wayne: “Did you have trouble finding the mall?&lt;br /&gt;Valrie: “Not really. Once I got to the exit, I saw the mall and parked in the deck. Where did you park?”&lt;br /&gt;Wayne: “My sister dropped me off.”&lt;br /&gt;Valrie: “So, did you think you would be drinking so much that you wouldn’t be able to drive yourself home?”&lt;br /&gt;Wayne: “No, I just don’t drink and drive.”&lt;br /&gt;Valrie: “Wait, do you have your license?”&lt;br /&gt;Wayne: (long pause)&lt;br /&gt;Valrie: “You don’t, do you? What is it? A DWI?&lt;br /&gt;Wayne: “Two.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Strike 2, Wayne!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we continued talking, I noticed that Wayne went to the restroom frequently. I started paying more attention to his eyes and whaddya know, his pupils were dilated. So, as Wayne went to the restroom for the fourth time, I struck up a conversation with the manager, the lousy bartender, and a random server. I was trying to get the scoop on Wayne. According to them, he is in there, at the bar, almost every Saturday night. He never comes in with anyone; apparently, I was the first. Oh, lucky me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he returned, he asked for the bill. He paid with cash and yes… went to the restroom again. I looked at the bill to make sure he was tipping appropriately and realized he had only two beers at the restaurant. So, to get pupils like that, Wayne had to have started drinking well before his sister dropped him off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our next discussion went like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wayne: “Let’s get out of here. We have about an hour until the movie. I want to take you to this bar called Charlie’s. It’s on the Franklin Street of Durham.”&lt;br /&gt;Valrie: “What? Can we walk there?”&lt;br /&gt;Wayne: “No, you can drive or we can take a cab.”&lt;br /&gt;Valrie: “Ummm, NO. We can walk around the mall for awhile.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we walked around the mall. During our walk, he constantly tried to get closer to me… (Ya’ll all know how I am about physical contact, especially in public.) He complained, “So I can’t even hold your hand or get a kiss?” I reminded Wayne that we had just met and that he wouldn’t be touching or kissing me that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had about 40 minutes to kill before the movie started, so I suggested that we go ahead to the theatre (the mall was closing) and get our tickets, seats, etc. When we got to the theatre, Wayne started to whine about not wanting to sit around for 40 minutes. He wanted us to walk over to Tripp’s across the street. I got a little pissy because it was cold outside, and quite frankly, I was irritated by the entire situation. I finally conceded to walk to Tripp’s with him, but I made him buy the tickets before we went. The last thing I wanted was to get stuck at the bar at Tripp’s with this drunkard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While at Tripp’s, I sipped on a Diet Coke while he drank another beer (the tall one–of course).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Discussion three:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wayne: “So, I have a question for you.”&lt;br /&gt;Valrie: “Okay…”&lt;br /&gt;Wayne: “Are you on birth control?”&lt;br /&gt;Valrie: (I think my jaw hit the bar at this point.) “Excuse me? That is none of your business! Is that something you normally ask on a first date?”&lt;br /&gt;Wayne: (silence)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Strike three, Wayne!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stood up, started putting on my scarf and coat and said, “The movie starts in ten minutes. Finish your beer if you are coming.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wayne finished his beer, and we headed back to the theatre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh… the story is far from over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we walked back across the street, we heard a couple arguing on the side of the movie theatre—arguing to the point where I was concerned for the safety and well-being of the woman. I told Wayne he should go over there and help. (If he would’ve gone over there, he would’ve gotten his ass kicked… or shot.) He said, “Hell, no. I’m not getting involved. They’re &lt;em&gt;just&lt;/em&gt; arguing.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we approached the front of the theatre, I let him know I was going to go talk to the four police officers (sitting around with nothing to do) about the situation on the side of the building. Wayne rolled his eyes at me as I walked away from him. As I came up to the group of officers, a Mexican man was already there telling them about the situation on the side of the building. The officers were not really taking him seriously, so I interrupted and said, “One of y’all needs to go over there and deal with the couple on the side of the theatre.” No sooner had the words left my mouth, they had the sirens on and were gone. I was glad that the cops responded, but it made me really mad that they were not listening to the man there before me. It took me, a nicely dressed white girl, for them to move their asses!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I rejoined Wayne, he was still rolling his eyes. I explained that I would rather the cops check on the couple and not be needed than for the cops to do nothing and something worse happen. ”You did the right thing,” he said unconvincingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We FINALLY got to sit down and watch the movie. I thought, “How bad can this be, anyway? We’ll just be sitting there…We won’t have to talk….”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we walked into the theatre to find seats, Wayne reached behind me like he was going to put his arm around my waist. Then I felt is hand going up the back of my shirt. I whipped around, and he’s lucky my hands were full because otherwise, he would’ve lost his right arm. The previews were on, and I sternly said, “No, that is not okay. That is unacceptable. No, SIR!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I continued in, and Wayne wanted to sit on the front row. I didn’t. Even though I hate sitting in the front, we compromised and sat in the third row. I sat on his left side, but of course he wanted to sit on the left, so we switched seats. Now, remember, Wayne can’t go for 20 minutes without going to the restroom, so now he has to pass in front of me each time he has to go to get to the door. The first time he got up to go was during the previews. At this point, I was praying… “Please, God, don’t let him come back. I am perfectly happy watching this movie all by myself.” No such luck… Frankly, I was concerned he was going to beg me to take him home, and that would cause a scene when I put his ass in a cab. Halfway through the movie, he came back from his fourth restroom trip and announced that his sister called and was outside to pick him up. I have no doubt in my mind that this was a lie, but I said, “I totally understand that you have to go with your ride. Don’t worry about it. You aren’t enjoying the movie anyway. I’ll see you later.” He wanted me to tell him that I’d take him home! Ha! So he left, and I sat there for the remainder of the movie… relieved!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I left the theatre, I called Iron Duke Diva and told her my story. We laughed as I drove home, and I promised to add this to our collection of “You won’t believe what happened to me this weekend” stories!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, fast-forward to Sunday afternoon – Wayne and I had a text exchange that went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wayne: How did the movie end?&lt;br /&gt;Valrie: I guess you’ll never know.&lt;br /&gt;Wayne: Do you want to go out again?&lt;br /&gt;Valrie: I don’t think that’s a good idea.&lt;br /&gt;Wayne: Can I have one more chance?&lt;br /&gt;Valrie: I don’t think that’s a good idea.&lt;br /&gt;Wayne: I always give my worst impression first to see if a girl will stick around.&lt;br /&gt;Valrie: (I pulled a Dr. Phil response!) And, how’s that workin’ for you?&lt;br /&gt;Wayne: I feel that it weeds them out.&lt;br /&gt;Valrie: Well, good luck with that.&lt;br /&gt;Wayne: Fine, then. Be that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And Wayne is OUT!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned for my next story…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do Valentine’s Day, Jamie, and Will Ferrell have in common? Stay tuned to find out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487385537857381616-1081898973121180257?l=divatinis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/feeds/1081898973121180257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487385537857381616&amp;postID=1081898973121180257' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default/1081898973121180257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487385537857381616/posts/default/1081898973121180257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://divatinis.blogspot.com/2008/02/voluptuous-divas-worst-date-ever.html' title='VALuptuous Diva’s Worst Date Ever'/><author><name>Valrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17172716298951614497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_22WsE3Lio6A/TE-fzNmUGGI/AAAAAAAAAAU/dcdZsZKlNEM/S220/100_March+2006.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
