Anti-Social 

I may or may not be a little anti-social, and by that I mean, I am. Long ago I learned that people are annoying and most lack common sense. 

I was a painfully shy child which I now realize was just me choosing to be quiet rather than tell everyone how stupid they were.

Somewhere in my late teens, I decided that I didn’t have to pretend to like everyone. Nor did I have to pretend that they were even somewhat tolerable. This often translated into me being called “stuck up” or a bitch. I didn’t put bitch in quotations because that’s actually true, but I’m not “stuck up” at all.

I don’t think I’m better than others,  I just don’t like them. Maybe you’re somebody else’s cup of tea, but not mine. Although, I would bet that some of you aren’t even a person’s (who is dying of thirst) drop of water because you’re awful.

Some people like to go through life thinking that humans are mostly good and that’s peachy, but not smart. I think humans are always human which means they can be lovely or terrible, fun or dangerous, intelligent or stupid…it’s a gamble. The truth is you just don’t know until you get to know them a little and that’s where you lose me. 

I don’t really want to get to know them. I’ve got plenty of great friends and my family is the most amazing so, no thanks. 

Please don’t sit near me. Please don’t make small talk with me, I’m not even listening. If I avoid eye contact with you, let it go. This girl doesn’t want to chat. 

As DJ Khaled said, “No New Friends”. 

Also, as the great (and sometimes seizure prone) Lil Wayne said, “I’m too old for new friends, but never too rich for new money”.

There you have it. Maybe I’m not anti-social, but selectively social.

Plus, you probably wouldn’t like me anyway. 

Just kidding, I’m the shit.

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By the way, that corner used to be occupied by another interesting character. I’m pretty sure she took over after beating him in a dance off competition. 

P.S. Hugs not Drugs. 

Attitude Problem

Gardeners, racing a Postman, and the original Spelling. Enjoy the chronicles of April 19th, 2017.

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Captain's Log 

Look, I don’t always have time to write down my every thought which I know is incredibly disappointing to all of you. I’m a thoughtful person and don’t want you to miss out on my particular brand of crazy so here’s a glimpse into what’s been going on. I may or may not be a little paranoid.

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April 12th. You’re welcome. 

Captain’s Log 

Look, I don’t always have time to write down my every thought which I know is incredibly disappointing to all of you. I’m a thoughtful person and don’t want you to miss out on my particular brand of crazy so here’s a glimpse into what’s been going on. I may or may not be a little paranoid.

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April 12th. You’re welcome. 

Crazy Train

“Omg, I just saw your message. I was running from Zombies through an obstacle course at the time. Sorry!”

That’s the message I sent my mother on Monday morning after realizing I didn’t read her message from Saturday night.

I’m 36.

So believe me when I tell you that I judge myself pretty hard sometimes. Then, I realize that I’m not so bad.

Fun? Yes.

Ridiculous? Absolutely.

Responsible? Most of the time.

And that’s good enough, dammit.


My boss handed me a project today and all I could think was, “Ugh. I don’t have time for this.”

I totally have time. I’m among the time havers today, I just don’t wanna.

I’m super busy trying to remember all of my boyfriend’s pet peeves that he mentioned over the weekend so I can maintain a list, obviously.

Why would I keep an account of his pet peeves?

Glad you asked. I’m keeping it on the off chance that we someday get married so I can list all of them off during our vows, thus solidifying his complete understanding of how deep my love is because I have taken the time to acknowledge and notate every little thing that irks him. Duh.

I also can’t be bothered today because I’m still pondering why the little old lady left the stall door open yesterday in the bathroom while peeing. Was it an accident and when she noticed, she was already much too cozy to get up and lock it? Did she not notice until she was mid-stream so it was too late? Was it intentional and she just doesn’t give a shit anymore (hopefully not yesterday at least)?  I hope the latter was the case, but the not knowing will haunt me until at least 3pm at which point my mind will move on something equally as unimportant..

Like the fact that I have to break it to my favorite Ginger pal that I disagree about the best song on the Robert Plant/Alison Krauss album, but I hope we’ll still be Beer Friends Forever.

That’s it folks, the ADD train has left the station with only me on board. I think. I’m not even sure what train this is.


10 Minutes in My Brain

My brain has been moving at the speed of dial up internet all day. I’m sick to death of adulting and adults in general. Not you, it’s others.

Like the overly cautious merger this morning on the Parkway. It’s a slight left buddy, no need to brake. 

Or the lady who decided to occupy the stall right next to mine when there were 4 other perfectly good empty stalls to choose from. Ma’am, you’re what we call a “turd burglar”. There were no turds happening mind you, because I am a lady, but you get it.

And right now all I can think is either I’m going crazy or this guy has been wearing the exact same outfit for 3 days in a row. Did he shower? Did he change his underwear? Why would you not change clothes?? You look like Jake from State Farm and I understand that he’s super cool, but c’mon. Maybe I’ll come dressed as Flo from Progressive tomorrow and we can battle it out West Side Story style.

I just ate a red Starburst and I think that any Starburst other than pink just tastes like sadness. I used to settle for red thinking, well at least it’s not orange, but I think I’m better than that now.

Clearly, this is a day of reflection.  A time for deep thoughts and focusing on what matters and OMG my friend didn’t understand my “Walker, Texas Ranger” reference. This is like the discussion of Care Bears all over again. Also, is there a Tipsy Bear? Because that’s my bear.

It’s Ash Wednesday, National Pig Day, and #whyIlovepizza is trending on Twitter. Obviously one of these things is near and dear to my heart and it’s this bucket of Sunshine right here….



 

Happy Hump Day.

Cyclic Love Syndrome

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

Fight

Still love each other

Argue

Kind of like each other

Disagree

Question their own sanity

Fall back in love

LUST

Fight…over the same thing

Fall back in like

Argue….again

Question their partner’s sanity

LUST

Disagree….50 more times

Laugh, lust, like, love…repeat

 

Sound familiar?

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

We’re fun

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.

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And the most relatable for us personally…

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Real Love

Unfortunately, wisdom is seldom gained any way other than from making stupid choices. I’ve gained quite a bit of wisdom throughout the years. For instance, in fourth grade I learned that short hair wasn’t for me. In fifth grade, I learned that parachute pants would not always be totally awesome. Still having a hard time with that one.

In all seriousness though, one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is not to waste my time or my vulnerability on just anybody. The price paid for that mistake is usually a good dose of humility with a side of duh. The flip side is to know when someone is completely worth it.

Is there a way to side step “learning the hard way”? If that exists, I obviously don’t know how it works. It also sounds fairly boring.

Lately, I’ve seen quite a few beautiful, strong, smart women learn the hard way as well. (Thanks, social media!) I say to these women….I appreciate you not leaving me out there on my own. Also, messy loves company and you’re always welcome to sit next to me…unless you don’t drink because then it’s awkward. It’s Sunday brunch; I’m on my third Michelada, you’re drinking orange juice with NO champagne. I don’t get it. That’s not brunch, that’s breakfast. You might as well eat a bowl of Grape Nuts and hey, bring your Reader’s Digest along because if you’re going to be awful, be all the way awful. You and I have nothing in common, sister. Go with God.

However, for you lovely ladies who will Bloody Mary it up in the morning, let’s chat…

What do you attribute your lack of wisdom to in those duh moments? What is it that clouds our judgment?  Can we blame Disney? Although, I never bought into the princess saved by prince charming bullshit, I’d like to blame them for perpetuating that stupidity.

Ok, fine. Here’s what I think it really is…and this might surprise you.

It’s not just the guy’s fault. I know. Don’t ban me from the girls club for life. I’ll still wear pink on Wednesdays!

Men and women meet through all sorts of circumstances and very often, things don’t work out. It’s what happens afterwards that has me puzzled. Fingers get pointed, usually the middle ones. It’s like someone has to be blamed. People can’t just walk away and move on. Why? Simple, we’re hurt, sad, angry, and defensive. 

Most of all, we’re disappointed. This goes for both people in the situation. You thought the other person was better, more than who they turned out to be. Maybe you were looking past their flaws because you wanted it to work so badly and everything was so perfect those amazing first 3 weeks.

If you happen to be in this perfect stage right now, let me burst your bubble a little. That guy/girl who seems damn near perfect right now, farts. OMG. I know! They even poop…and it does not smell like roses.  Someday, they’re going to steal the covers and monopolize Netflix time. Imagine the horror!  They won’t always hang on every word you say or think everything you do is adorable and that’s exactly when it gets beautiful. Pick your jaw up off the floor and focus.

The truth is sometimes it doesn’t work out with someone because they’re not your person, plain and simple. They’re not your lobster. (If you don’t get that reference, you need to rethink all of your life choices) You just might need to call it, soak up the wisdom you’ve gained, and move on. 

The other truth is that some people want easy. They don’t want messy, they don’t want real. Those people are missing out. Beyond the annoyances of sharing a bathroom, having miscommunications, and accepting the other person’s flaws is real love. Real love is harder to find because it isn’t found at all, it’s created. It’s waking up every day and deciding to love an imperfect person because they’re worthy of your love and for some reason they think you’re worthy of love too. 

Loving another person completely is accepting them as they are with no agenda to try and change them. If you’re wondering if you’ve found the right person, ask yourself, can you live forever with them the way they are today? That shouldn’t take you more than 15 seconds to answer. I’ll wait……aaaannnd time. There’s your answer.

Real isn’t always glamorous, it’s real. It’s boxers on the bathroom floor, clean sheets on Sunday, helping kids with homework, stupid inside jokes, and being happy that he remembered to put the trashcan out on Wednesday night. That’s the good stuff.

No matter what, you can never love somebody if you don’t love yourself. That sounds cliché, but it’s completely true. The capacity to which you can accept another person cannot exceed the capacity to which you accept yourself. The same is true with love and forgiveness. To me, those three things are what a healthy relationship is; love, acceptance, and forgiveness. Loyalty and trust go without saying, but I’m saying it anyway. If you want what is real, you’ll need all five.

I have by no means perfected any of this by the way, but it is my truth and what I will continue to live by and strive for.

Abomination

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.)
 

 
Why?

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.