ringfingertanline:

An article by Jessica Redfield, victim of today’s fatal Dark Knight shooting in Colorado, about narrowly avoiding another fatal shooting. The last three paragraphs are chilling, but at the same time, it’s a little comforting to know she really cherished each of her final moments.

Originally posted on A Run On of Thoughts:

I can’t get this odd feeling out of my chest. This empty, almost sickening feeling won’t go away. I noticed this feeling when I was in the Eaton Center in Toronto just seconds before someone opened fire in the food court. An odd feeling which led me to go outside and unknowingly out of harm‘s way. It’s hard for me to wrap my mind around how a weird feeling saved me from being in the middle of a deadly shooting.

What started off as a trip to the mall to get sushi and shop, ended up as a day that has forever changed my life. I was on a mission to eat sushi that day, and when I’m on a mission, nothing will deter me. When I arrived at the Eaton Center mall, I walked down to the food court and spotted a sushi restaurant. Instead of walking in, sitting…

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Damn You, WordPress.Org

Read this or you may not receive your RFTL updates anymore!

Okay, kiddos. Here’s the deal. I made the switch to wordpress.org and used the “5 minute” (read: 5 hour) installation.

Now, I don’t know if I can transfer all of you lovely followers to the new and improved wordpress.org site (still http://ringfingertanline.com). In fact, from the angry forums I’m seeing, I’m fairly certain that I can’t.

So now, you have to visit the new site and re-follow if you like me. And I hope that you do, because I like you a lot.

Please don’t leave me. I already feel lonely over at wordpress.org. Promise you’ll follow? Promise? Don’t make me cry.

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Sneak Peek: Pasta with Spicy & Creamy Marinara Sauce for Two

Another night, another round of “what the hell can I make with the meager rations in my pantry.”

I present to you tonight’s delicious results. The sauce is healthier than most since I used cream cheese and mascarpone (leftover from these) rather than heavy cream. Tastes equally incredible to me. And now I feel like a cream cheese commercial.

You may be wondering who I am sharing this with, as it’s labeled “for two.” Don’t get too excited – my +1 is simply my future self who will undoubtedly be scarfing down these leftovers tomorrow and justifying it with 45 minutes of pretending her gear is higher than it is in spin class. Classy lady, that one. I like her already.

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Sunday Sunshine

Oh, Sunday morning. You sneaky little bastard. Always coming far too soon and reminding me that my only weekend accomplishments were two inappropriate hookups and one load of laundry. Damn it.

Last night, as is becoming the Saturday night norm, I ran into three former flings. This town has got to get a better variety of men, because if this pace keeps up, I’ll be on round two by July.

First, I went to a friend’s housewarming at his sweet new downtown apartment. The co-worker I hooked up with on Friday was there, which was nice and cozy since half of my office was also there. Fun times.

Interestingly enough, the building my friend moved into also houses a certain Back Alley Way Lover. Approximately 10 seconds after I posted a picture of the view, he texted me asking if I was in his building. I stopped by to “say hi” on the way out. And I mean saying hi in the sense of making out in the hallway.

Later, I ran into poor Mr. Tomato Seeds. It was good to see him because he is such a sweet guy, but it was also a little strange. Primarily because he wouldn’t stop telling me how beautiful I looked and actually stroked my face longingly at one point. He will likely feel embarrassed about this when he remembers it today.

On a note that has nothing to do with this weekend’s shenanigans, here are five bits of sunshine making my Sunday less of an asshole:

[new favorite soup from whole foods - tomato zucchini. yum.]

[my super cool austin subway style prints from etsy, dressing up my red accent wall]

[refreshing raspberry gelato, looking extra appealing in a mini martini glass]

[festive spring flowers - one of my many impulse purchases from whole foods]

[new shoes for spring. damn you, temptress that is shoedazzle.]

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Welcome to the Office Slut Club

With the exception of my steadfast determination to hook up with San Fran Crush (one of my personal favorite tales of singlehood), I have made it a general rule not to hook up with co-workers.

As of last night, so much for that.

On a side note – it has come to my attention that some of my co-workers are also closet RFTL fans. (Hi guys! Yes, I know you’re reading.) As such, I am going to have to omit a certain level of detail for the sake of professionalism. And not having a line form for the office slut now that the rule has been broken.

Keep your inquiries to yourselves, gentlemen. This is not a circus ride.

So last night, I ran into a co-worker at a bar. We have known each other for a while, but never been single at the same time. Until now. He joined my group of friends, and we all had a great time hanging out. We flirted harmlessly, but I never found myself thinking “Gee, I hope I wake up with you tomorrow! That sounds swell.”

At the end of the night, one of my girlfriends got a little too tipsy. And by tipsy, I mean physically tipping while trying to walk. To prevent her from getting date raped, mugged, or carried off by a large bird, I decided to take her back to my place and put her to bed.

As I wrapped my arm around her and limped out of the bar, it was obvious that I needed some help. Enter: co-worker. He helped me get her the two blocks back to my place, and played with my dogs as I moved the trash can next to the bed for her.

Now, let’s be clear: we were both inebriated. Had this not been the case, I doubt he would have made a move. But when I went to sit near him, things escalated quickly. What can I say, I’m a sucker for a man who strokes my arm sweetly. Such behavior deserves reward.

To be clear for the inevitable office rumors I have just inflicted upon myself, we did not have sex. We did, however, go back to his place for some surprisingly great post-bar action. So good that I would be up for it again if the situation presented itself. Which is saying a lot because that’s the highest level of commitment I give.

It was actually really nice to wake up next to someone I knew was not a serial killer or rapist for once. We’re stepping in a positive direction, people. Be proud of me.

I have absolutely no delusions that this will turn into anything more than hooking up. I very much enjoyed it, but I think we are both on the same page with just wanting some action.

I really am every douchebag’s dream right now, aren’t I?

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