Gardeners, racing a Postman, and the original Spelling. Enjoy the chronicles of April 19th, 2017.
Gardeners, racing a Postman, and the original Spelling. Enjoy the chronicles of April 19th, 2017.
Cyclic Love Syndrome. Yes, I made it up, but hear me out. You may have heard of cyclic vomiting syndrome and the symptoms are about the same.
It starts like this…
Two people meet. They proceed to:
Fall in lust
Fall in like
Fall in love
Live blissfully for 8.3 seconds
Love and annoy each other for 8.3 months, not always liking each other, but keeping those redeeming moments of lust
Still love each other
Kind of like each other
Question their own sanity
Fall back in love
Fight…over the same thing
Fall back in like
Question their partner’s sanity
Disagree….50 more times
Laugh, lust, like, love…repeat
If you answered no, go back to watching afternoon talk shows, playing scrabble, or eating your 21 grain toast.
For the rest of us, what in the actual fuck? I mean, seriously. This cycle is true for 90% of the couples I know and love and is definitely true for me.
We tend to do this with the same person again and again and again. Why not just call it a day and start annoying somebody new?
I think it’s got something to do with some kind of weird chemistry that connects you to another person. Sure, over time you build a life and memories together which bonds you even more, but it’s more than that. There’s something that draws you back to someone and makes you want to drive them completely insane again and again. If that’s not love, I don’t know anything! (Which is quite possible)
Is there a down side? Absolutely. Sometimes, situations get toxic and unhealthy. If the bad outweighs the good by a lot, it might be time to go ruin someone else’s life. However, most of these relationships have enough redeeming qualities (great sex and inside jokes) to carry on and find some middle ground.
It goes something like this. “Look, you are annoying the ever living fuck outta me and I wanna rock your jaw a solid two times a week, but …
You make me laugh like no one else
You’re quite weird, but so am I
You dance like a fool
I like seeing you naked
We take care of each other
There’s nobody else I’d rather steal the covers from..
and, today, you picked your boxers up off the bathroom floor and put them in the hamper. Yay you! See, progress.”
I have zero doubts that he will do something in the next 5 days to make me want to end his Earthly journey, but until then. Amor.
Now, enjoy some of my favorite TV couples because we’ve got to keep a sense of humor and they’ve helped.
And the most relatable for us personally…
I caught a glimpse of a Kardashian wearing one in a photo the other day, but I’d taken a benadryl and figured I was hallucinating.
Then, today, I saw a few more posts and realized that THIS IS HAPPENING…
Even celebrities are doing it..
(I’d like to believe he’s shielding his son from his clearly heinous choice)
(I sincerely hope Mickey elbowed her right in the side after this photo.)
Isn’t this country going through enough?! Do we really need to bring back the fanny pack?
I get it, ladies. Purses can be annoying, but how can we (children of the 90’s) support this?
Biggie, Tupac, ABC’s TGIF lineup…absolutely! Bring it back! I’ll even look the other way if someone is sporting some overalls, but this is too much.
What do we do?
Should we pray it away? Fast? Protest?
I would call upon the elders for advice, but let’s be honest, they probably never got rid of theirs in the first place.
God help us all.
Somebody named “Sugar Tits” started following me on Twitter today so I’d say things are definitely moving in the right direction. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m making the right decisions in life and little signs like this confirm that I absolutely am.
Keeping a sense of humor these days is crucial. I work for the government, “The Man”. To make matters worse, my particular field is kind of in politics – as in , I don’t give a shit about it, but we’re surrounded by politicians, regulations, and legal jargon. I know it sounds awful, but I actually love my job…most of the time.
However, I’m realizing more and more that we are surrounded by COMPLETE MORONS. They have zero logical thinking capabilities. If I can’t reason with someone, I just make fun of them because I’m mature.
Laughing keeps me on the right side of sanity most days. If it’s funny, inappropriate, and slightly offensive, I’m all about it.
To the New Yorker who came into our office this week wearing a fanny pack and loudly told us that she was “Absahloootlee Disscaahssstid” that she had to come down there because of what had been going on in the “Rahpublicaan Paahtee” and she just “has to vote fah Mr. Truuump”,
Ma’am, I assure you, we are equally disgusted that you had to come in to see us as well.
Some thoughts on the Republican party from Frankie on Twitter:
As I was shopping at Target for the second(third) time in a week, I realized that I do this on a regular basis…
Humans are so weird, myself included. What the hell? We’re touching a gross cart and pushing it around, but yes I’m sure the piece of paper inside of it is what’s contaminated. Dumb.
For those of you who aren’t weird and don’t do that..
Way to go, you sound boring.
I don’t want you to leave here without something substantial. A little nugget of wisdom, if you will. Clearly, I have none of that for you, but Mr. Feeny on the other hand..
Be weird, be funny, just don’t be a wiener…no fanny packs and don’t vote for Trump.
And now, I’m going to go drink on my Parent’s patio like a real adult.
“The woman who does not require validation from anyone is the most feared individual on the planet” she whispered, posting another selfie.
Can we stop with the empowering quotes accompanying your third selfie that week. We get it, being single is your choice. No one can handle you. You look the same as you did two days ago. Thanks for reminding us.
Now, if you know me at all, you know I LOVE a good selfie…but at least I know I’m being a little vain. Embrace it, girls. Hair and make-up are fun. Feeling pretty should be celebrated, but c’mon, people don’t need daily reminders that you’re alive and your camera…err, phone still works. Simmer down a pinch.
Tuesday was International Women’s Day and I love to celebrate all that we are. I love women! I love them so much that I briefly(45 seconds) considered being a lesbian once. Then, I imagined what it would be like to live with another me. No thank you! Also, I prefer to be the pretty one in the relationship. See, vain.
All of the love for my gender aside, I have a couple of things maybe worth mentioning. Probably not, but I’m going to anyway because I never learn.
What’s with women in their 20’s and 30s getting Botox and fillers?! By the time you’re 40, you’ll have lost the ability to show emotions through any type of facial expressions. Are you mad? Happy? Sad? I can’t tell! I have a hard enough time figuring out who’s eyebrows are real these days. Also, men can hardly read us when all of our facial muscles are working. Simmer down a pinch.
As for me, I’ll stick with resting bitch face. It has served me well and saved me from many possible new friendships.
Let’s talk fashion for a second. Did floral leggings make a comeback? Wait, were they ever a thing? I don’t know, but for some reason I have seen numerous, ahem, ladies sporting these as of late. These skin tight pants/leggings come in a pattern that I can only imagine was ripped off their Nana’s 1992 sofa from her “Formal Living Room” and sewn into two hideous leg prisons. Simmer down a pinch.
The last thing I ever want to be is a woman who shops for a “sensible pant suit”. I’m mostly a jeans and cute top kinda girl, but I think we’ll all be better off if this trend makes it’s way to small town, USA with a quickness. I’d rather see Culottes make a comeback than have to endure these walking rose gardens all Spring. From my lips to God’s ears, please banish them. Amen.
These few annoyances are minor. I think women are amazing. We’re strong, smart, creative, crazy, loving, talented, crazy, beautiful, and some of us even smell good. Keep on keeping on, ladies! You do you. Even if it means having an immobile face, legs covered in chrysanthemums, and posting daily selfies. I will still love you….from a distance.
A parting note: If you’re a woman and are planning on voting for Donald Trump, kindly hand over your ovaries and form a line to the right because that shit’s ridiculous.
Someone wrote yesterday, “You just know Donald Trump is an unsolicited dick pic kinda guy.”
And I thought….yep, that about sums it up.
Last week, I almost fell over while putting on my jeans. Needless to say, I’m not the smoothest of characters. I feel like I’m going to need quite a bit more time on this Earth to become my best self.
I made a step in the right direction today at lunch when I purchased and devoured this bowl of deliciousness..
Then, the Earth shook…like, 4.8 magnitude shook. I hate to break it to my 3rd grade teacher, but there was no ducking or covering. All that training was in vain because I literally just sat there. My mind flashed back to the conversation I had with God on Saturday after Trump won the South Carolina Primary. It went something like this, “Lord, it might be time to flood the Earth again. Amen.” I not saying my prayer prompted the Earthquake, but I’m not not saying it either.
The second thing I thought was, TREMORS…
One of my coworkers yelled “Shit!” and took cover under his desk, making him my favorite person within a two mile radius.
After the shaking stopped, I did what any normal adult would do. I bought a bag a Funyuns and consumed them immediately. No way in hell I’m letting the last thing I eat in life be fruit. Not on my watch!
It isn’t my time to go, I have so much left to do. I still haven’t mastered the skill of remembering where I parked my car after going into CVS for 10 minutes. In fact, I’m only at CVS because I think having a $2 off coupon justifies me spending $47. I need help.
I have to stop the unnecessary remixing of songs that were just fine as they were. Not every song should be remixed, people!!
Mind you, this is coming from a person who passionately sang along to the song, My Humps, on the way home from my Allergist’s office today where the nurse called me “Sunshine”. Me, Sunshine. She clearly doesn’t know me at all. I can’t leave this Earth being so misunderstood.
Side note, somebody tell Selena Gomez and her adorable chipmunk cheeks to please keep her hands to herself. I’m really uncomfortable hearing a Wizard from Waverly Place sing so seductively on the radio. Stop it.
The point is, unless The Rock will be swooping in to save me, there need not be any more Earthquakes in my neck of the woods. Thank you, kindly.
I feel like you all should know that I’m typing this next to my boyfriend who is watching a Telenovela. El Señor de los Cielos to be exact.
Aaaannd, he just farted. I’m living the dream. Sleep well.
Some days I think I have my shit together and some days I seem to have lost my ability to count. I have somehow developed the nervous talking habit John Cusack had in the movie Say Anything which is, evidently, not as endearing on me.
The following is an account of my lunch hour yesterday because I know you all care so deeply…
I spent a solid 60 seconds trying to remember if I put on underwear. As soon as I figured out that I wasn’t going commando, my thoughts shifted to my dogs. I made a mental note that I needed to get new name tag for my dog. He’s currently sporting the name tag of a dog I fostered last year because, hey, at least it has my phone number on it. This is probably causing him to have some kind of identity crisis and feel like he doesn’t matter as much as my other two dogs. Then, I’m like….dude, you’re worrying about the emotional state of a creature who has chased his own tail for 6 minutes straight. Chill.
I arrived at a gym nearby my work because in a moment of poor judgment I agreed to get a membership so as to join two of my coworkers for lunchtime cardio a few days a week. I know, but this is who I am now. As I’m discussing the deets of this torturous arrangement, the guy asked me what my fitness goals were. I paused and said, “To never check in on Facebook?” Clearly, he’s now going to take me about as seriously as I take myself.
I left and immediately started to scold myself. I was all, “Jesus, Mary & Joseph, can you just act like a freakin adult for 5 minutes?!”
About a minute later, I forgave myself for my juvenile ways and headed toward Panera because nothing starts off a new healthy lifestyle like a cup of Clam Chowder.
On my drive back to work I started eating the French Baguette they always give you. Let me be clear, there is no lady like way to eat a Baguette while driving. I looked like a character out of Game of Thrones who’s been on a long journey and has just gotten her hands on some nourishment. I kept eating it because, bread.
As I’m driving, I think….Have I heard from Pops lately? I try to recall if I’ve gotten any emails from him that day. Listen, if your Dad doesn’t email you weekly about an article that he found interesting, is he even you Dad?! I actually look forward to these emails because Pops is the best thing since chocolate and you know what, maybe I DO want to know how to properly store tomatoes in my kitchen so they maintain their fresh deliciousness!
I arrived back at the office and suddenly remember that at 7 years old, I thought becoming a Librarian would be the bestest thing ever because BOOKS…and I also had a slight obsession with wanting to scan barcodes. A grocery store checkout clerk was a close second to the coolest job a person could have. Whatta weird kid. Anyway, that’s a life long dream that will probably never see the light of day.
In a moment of rare silence, I think, am I the only one pretending to be an adult around here? Am I alone in feigning maturity all damn day?! Is the ridiculous train leaving the station with only me on board??
At that moment, the phone rang for the 73rd time and I shouted, “not it!” because I. Can’t. Even.
Today brought to my attention some much needed thanks to be given and shout-outs to be heard so here goes.
Shout-out to my ex husband for sharing “how happy he is that he divorced my ass”! Point of fact: I divorced you and, while I like to give credit to my ass for ALL of it’s amazing abilities, let’s thank all of me for the blessed event. That was a super fun walk down memory lane. You’re a peach.
Shout-out to the woman in the stall next to me today for peeing with the force of Niagara Falls, thus making me feel like the daintiest lady alive. Holy, Mrs. Doubtfire!
Thanks to my coworker for agreeing with me that Marie Callender’s pies being $7.99 this month does, in fact, justify having a pie party at the office. (Now taking place on the 11th, you’re all invited)
Shout-out to my right eyeball for having the tiniest speck of annoying dust in it for the last 22 hours and making it look like I have a twitch or am hitting on every person around me.
Thank you, teenage daughter, for getting your nose pierced…causing me to have an actual twitch.
Shout out to my son for telling me that you love me more than everybody, but being sure to still call me a “party pooper” weekly, just to keep me humble.
Thanks to the Salvadorian Rancher/Attorney that happened by our office for the delightful story about your turkey who I’m sure really is in a better place, may he rest in peace.
Shout-out to my boyfriend for taking me seriously enough when I’m pissed off, but not seriously at all when I over think what you hypothetically considered doing in a dream I had. (How could you?!) All the while, being remorseful of your almost actions in my subconscious. You are a modern day prince charming.
Thanks to my best girlfriends for promising to live out our golden years together like Blanche, Rose, and a pinch of Sophia. As previously agreed upon, none of us will be playing the part of Dorothy. We’ll have game night, make mixed drinks, and never wear pants! I love you more than Bloody Mary’s, you are my spirit animals.
Shout-out to my 7 year old niece for the conviction in your voice when saying, “I’m serious, for reals!” You are a force to be reckoned with and I take you seriously, always.
Shout-out to me for audibly talking to myself out in public on a daily basis. Thanks for being weird.
Hey, Gabrielle Union, thanks for Being Mary Jane. You’re beautiful and talented. Let’s do lunch.
Shout-out to Benadryl just for being you.
Thanks to my Mother for teaching me the importance of learning to laugh at myself. I’m becoming a pro.
Thanks to my Father for proving that love really does conquer all.
On a genuine note, thank you to all of my people(you know who you are) who have my back and tolerate my crazy. You’re the bee’s knees. I love you all. I’m serious, for reals.
Last, but certainly not least…Thanks, God, for always reminding me how very much I need you. Clearly, I can’t be left to my own devices.