On Making Friends

So I've talked about my awkwardness with the younger generations. Lets talk about my awkward with people my age.

There's a reason that I have so many experiences with creeps, geeks, and the deranged. I'm a little bit of all of the above.

Since moving three years ago to a new town and a new job I've made exactly zero friends. The friends I tried to make (all two of them) were either grumpy and old or fired from work. There's a light at the end of this tunnel though. A couple of weeks ago I met a new girl at work. We started talking, she was funny, smart and had a lower lip piercing - my kind of chick, in a totally hetero way (oh who am I kidding, we're all a little bit gay, just like we're all a little bit racist).

Anyway, stepping away from the potentially offensive (told you I was awkward), this girl and I were talking, lets call her Aubry, and I was getting super excited at the prospect of a new friend. At one point I actually blurted out, "ohmigosh! We could totally be besties!"

Yeah, I then had to work on recovery. I went on to say that I'm not as creepy and weird as I seem and I get better with time.

Hopefully she'll take me up on my offer to hang out once she gets moved up here. Although on thinking about it, I probably said something like, "once you move up here let me know where you live so I can sit outside your house and watch you through binoculars" instead of "we should catch a movie sometime."

Oh well, I've still got CG. I've managed to somehow hypnotize him into staying with me. Sometimes I wonder why he's managed to stick around, then I remember he's a little bit creepy, geeky, and deranged too. We're meant for each other in a totally creepy way.

I knew you were crazy, just not THAT crazy.

You know those families where everyone's out of their mind but they're your family so you love them? Mine's not like that. - The Wedding Date

Okay, so I do still love my family. I think they're totally great and couldn't adore each and every one of them more if I tried. But (and there's always a but, isn't there?), about 50% of them are THAT kind of crazy.

A history of mental illness that, if written out, would be taller than I am floods both sides of my family. Ranging from alcoholism and drug addiction to schizophrenia and dementia back down to just plain white-trash, beating the crap out of your significant other while wearing a tight white t-shirt a la Street Car and drinking Natural Light.

Yeah, I'm abusive, but look how cute I am!

CG finally got a real peak inside the honest to God crazy in the family this weekend. I'm sure it was eye opening. I kept warning him, trying to tell stories, to lessen the blow that was sure to come, but I don't think he really believed until this weekend.

I won't go fully into it because, well, yet again these aren't really my stories to tell but it involved an AK-47, a video camera, a hoarder, an abusive spouse, a serial cheater, and a control freak. No one was harmed or had the potential to be harmed but uncomfortable silence was had by all.

This is what I would call a good weekend, a fun weekend. I had an absolute blast. It was, after all, my 25th birthday and I got an extra $20 out of participating in the crazy with a positive attitude.

If you pay me enough I'll pretend your shit don't stink, your kind of crazy is perfectly normal, and that I am totally okay with whatever screwed up thing you're participating in. I'm basically an emotional whore, I'll react however you want, for a price. It's a system that works well in my family.

Honestly, money isn't the currency I'm usually paid in to go along with familial delusion. What I get out of it is peace and a relatively detached emotional state that keeps my mental health in good standing.

Crazy is much more fun when viewed from the outside.

Now to add a disclaimer: While everything said here is absolutely true, it's all said with a smile and love. For all of the crazy in my family it's also filled with more than it's fair share of love, understanding, good will and most importantly growth. They are (with one or two exceptions) good people with amazing life stories, harrowing experiences, and hope for the future and themselves.

My grandmother is a perfect example of this. My mother's mother is an absolutely amazing woman. She used to race stock cars and motorcycles, drives a Mustang and just a year ago had a stroke while riding bitch on the back of a Harley. She tapped her husband around the middle, got him to pull over, laid on the grass, had the stroke, got back on the bike and had him drive to the hospital. She's a total bad ass and while things in her life are far from perfect she handles herself with grace and humor and never takes anything too seriously, even death.

She told me on Saturday that while she was lying on the side of the highway during the stroke, sure that she was facing death she thought to herself, "Jeanie, calm down, you were doing something you loved, something that you enjoyed, it's a beautiful day and you're going on a day that was good." "Then, of course, I didn't die, I was ready and nothing happened!"

So even though I'm sure to descend into crazy as I get older I'll have fun doing it.

Then

CG and my two year anniversary is this Sunday, well technically it's February 29th, but since that day won't come around for another two years we just get as close to it as we can.

It's pretty impressive I think. Two years is a long-ass time, like, really long. Supposedly the "spark" (or whatever kids are calling it these days *takes off old lady cap*) starts to fade after the first year.

It still feels like our second date to me, except I'm not nearly so uncomfortable about the cleanliness of my house or worried about the last time I combed my hair.

Anyway, two years is a huge deal for me. I've never been any good at maintaining any type of relationship, whether it be boyfriend, friend, job contacts, etc. It just seems to take more effort than I'm willing to devote to it.

To put it another way, I have officially devoted two years of my life to the upkeep and health of a relationship without regret AND without screwing it up beyond repair.

So yay me! And thank you CG for your unending amounts of quiet understanding, doofy humor, strength, sweetness, and for just sitting quietly with me when I'm sure you'd rather be actually doing something.

I try not to end my posts on too sweet or depressing a note so in closing I guess I'll provide one of my most favorite de-motivators.

Love and Marriage

So, this book came out on the 4th of this month:


Yeah, I haven't read it and in all honesty I have absolutely no plans to, no matter how good Oprah's magazine says it is. I've read Ms. Gottlieb's article about this self-same subject, also desperately entitled: Marry Him.

Go ahead, read the article, I'll wait.





So, you've read it right? Now, I'm not married, have no finite plans for marriage, I have no children, no plans for children, and I'm most certainly not in my 40's, or even 30's. My frame of reference will obviously be skewed.

However, what I am is a woman with no legal commitments besides student loans and my mortgage, living alone, working in corporate America, and doing a pretty fucking awesome job at living my life the way I want.

Surprisingly, I agree with Ms. Gottlieb's underlying point in this article. However, I disagree with almost everything that she's trying to convince us 20-somethings to do. I don't disagree with the point that she inadvertently makes.

That point being that there's no such thing as Mr. Perfect, don't hold on to childhood fantasies of marriage, men, and babies. They aren't real. That my friend, is sound fucking advice. I couldn't agree more, women who go into relationships full of hopes and dreams and idealizations tend to leave those relationships bitter and disillusioned. Living in a dream world and having unattainable goals tends to do that to people.


However, the tone and meaning of the article is complete bullshit. At one point she advocates marrying your gay friend because you'll at least have someone with you, and besides, "how many long- married couples are having much sex anyway?" Apparently physical attraction is not required at all, in fact it's perfectly okay to be physically repulsed by your husband: "if you get a cold shiver down your spine at the thought of embracing a certain guy, but you enjoy his company more than anyone else’s, is that settling or making an adult compromise?"

In fact, it doesn't matter if you can't stand the sight of him:

"The couples my friend and I saw at the park that summer were enviable but not because they seemed so in love—they were enviable because the husbands played with the kids for 20 minutes so their wives could eat lunch.In practice, my married friends with kids don’t spend that much time with their husbands anyway (between work and child care), and in many cases, their biggest complaint seems to be that they never see each other. So if you rarely see your husband—but he’s a decent guy who takes out the trash and sets up the baby gear, and he provides a second income that allows you to spend time with your child instead of working 60 hours a week to support a family on your own—how much does it matter whether the guy you marry is The One?"

So, as long as he'll make a good baby daddy marry him. Marry him now, before you get old, wrinkly, and you're eggs start shriveling!! Yay for feminism?!? I mean, logically I know that women have a set amount of time, eggs, and grace under pressure when it comes to children. But being so desperate for a family that you marry someone you not only don't love, but who actually makes you shudder at the mere thought of him touching you? That seems excessive and seriously fucked up.

So, I guess my admittedly inexperienced opinion is: be realistic but don't settle. I mean, am I the unrealistic one here? I had, in the past, been quite proud of myself for realizing that sparks fizzle, heat cools, and steady and dependable are two of the best qualities that a man can posses. I still dumped men who I didn't find attractive, never kissed anyone who physically repulsed me, and have no regrets in ending any of my previous relationships. Maybe I have regrets about the way I ended things, but I never thought twice about the reasons.

They all seemed and continue to seem valid and purposeful at the time. There are three men who I've dated and also dumped who fell into the awesome guy, but not for me category. They were all funny, smart, endearing, dependable, tall, and good tempered. All of them would (and in one case does) make wonderful fathers and husbands. But the amount of chemistry that was generated in these relationships would take the last place ribbon in a grade school science fair contest.

No matter how little you see your husband, or how great he is with children, there's got to be something there. Something that holds you together while the kids are away at camp, when you're on vacation, when the kids move out, when you retire. I'm not saying that loveless marriages don't work, I know that they can, but that'll never be what I want.

Now, back to the book. From the few reviews I have read it looks like Gottlieb has toned down the "marry your gay best friend thing" and the "it's awesome to marry, have sex with, and then have babies with someone who physically repulses you." So who knows, this book may be worth reading because I do agree with her points about fairy-tale romance and the perfect man.

Her article is still total bullshit though.

V-Day

Happy Valentines Day to those of you who enjoy it. I have a feeling that I've discussed this before, but it was probably before I made the blog a little more PC and a little less personal. I've deleted an excessively large number of posts to make this a bit more relative and friend friendly.

I've always enjoyed Valentines Day. My parents got married on February 14th, not very original, I know, but it does make for an immediate love for the holiday. I have another reason for my devotion to the holiday. Dad would always get us girls a separate card and stuffed animal just from him. The card was always the best part. Dad's really good at the card thing, he always found the perfect card for us and it almost always made me cry. As we grew up and moved out the cards just from Dad stopped, which is fine and understandable, but the memory of Dad coming in early on February 14th, sometimes waking us up at 4 or 5 in the morning just before he headed in to work to give me my gift is something that I will always remember and always treasure.

/goopy love junk

For those of you who think Valentines Day is a Hallmark Holiday of the first water, have a wonderful weekend and think of all that delicious discount candy you can get on the 15th. Someone has to eat the chocolate out of those unloved heart shaped boxes, you don't want them to feel left out do you? Do you?

WTH!?!

I got an award! *shocked face*

Here are the rules that came with the award:

1) Thank the person who nominated me for this award.
2) Copy the award & place it on my blog.
3) Link to the person who nominated me for this award.
4) Tell us 7 interesting things about yourself.
5) Nominate 7 bloggers.
6) Post links to the 7 blogs I nominate.

My Blog was nominated by a wonderfully talented woman who I have a total girl-crush on: Shannon of SVH and Gilmore Girls blog fame. If you don't already have her favorited please immediately do so.

Interesting things about me:

1. My mother and grandmother used to make all of my clothes, doll clothes, and barbie clothes. We were all extremely well dressed and 80's-erific
2. I am the oldest of three girls, the youngest just started college. I love them both more than life.
3. I'm AWESOME at hula-hooping with my neck.
4. I hate anything that has to do with wrists, being dirty, or feet. I get physically ill when thinking about any of those things.
5. I love video games and think of myself as a gamer, but I know I'm not really dedicated enough to hold that title.
6. I play Brain Age on my DS every night before bed and I still have the brain age of a 60 year old.
7. I run hot and cold in almost all aspects of my life. The things I love can quickly turn into things I barely tolerate.

The Seven Bloggers I nominate are:

1.Call Me Freckles - She has great taste, a wonderful way with words and her recaps of the Vampire Diaries, which though I've never watched (I don't have television) sounds awesomely trashy.

2.Not That Kind of Girl - I'm completely addicted to her writing style and her blog concept. I haven't worked up the nerve to comment on her blog yet because I'm totally in awe of her, this is as good an excuse as any.

3.The Art of Being Blunt - She's a very good friend of mine and too funny, talented, and beautiful for words, please check her out, she's just getting started.

4.Get a Pencil and Your Case Book - I've been a fan of Sadako since I started reading blogs. She's got a gift for snark, a gift that she uses wisely.

5.30 is the new 13 - I know she's already gotten this award, but I want to link her blog anyway. She blogs about stories that she and others have written from their childhood. As a former childhood writer myself I can appreciate how ridiculous and funny the whole thing is.

6.KateC Says - Another good friend of mine. She writes a wonderful advice blog and is open, honest, and full of wisdom. She's also got a way with words and an astonishing ability to hear the most outlandish, embarrassing story and make you feel totally normal and accepted.

7. . . . in the Attic - I'm also nominating her in hopes of a future post soon. I wasn't allowed to read V.C. Andrews as a kid (I know, how prudish of my mother!) her recaps have helped me to realize why.

I think that's it, I guess.

Oh also, I'm back from my trip, and hope to have some decent posts up soon.

The New Phone

As most of you know, my 1st Gen iPhone finally died. It was a combination of things really. The toilet episode, lots of droping, etc. but the final straw was when I bought a cheap, non-namebrand charger on sale. I brought it home, plugged my phone in and the screen ran this horrible series of varying blackness. It did this for 10 minutes before it finally settled down into sheer blackness.

I tried restarting it, a hard shut down, re-syncing it with the computer. I called Apple, I searched on-line, I called my Dad. Nothing helped, nothing was bringing my baby back. I went to bed hoping in vain that I'd wake up the next morning and my sweet little phone would magically be better. I'd touch the home key and the screen would light my life back up with it's warm mechanical glow.

No such luck. Two weeks later and I still can't get so much as a sizzle out of it.

So I got a new phone. I looked around for a while first, checked out the other non-iPhone options out there. But lets face it, it's impossible to go back to a normal phone after the iPhone. So after doing my due diligence I bought a new iPhone, got a new plan and waited for it to arrive in the mail.

I loved my 1st Gen like a child, I still have it tucked away in my desk. I can't get rid of it, I probably won't ever. But this new phone the 3Gs is AMAZING. It's everything I want and 100 times more. I can't think of a single thing that I want that it can't do.

I need to tell if a table is level - there's the app.
I'm having trouble falling asleep - there's an app.
I really want to play Scrabble - app.
I need to make a grocery list - app.
I wonder what phase the moon is in - app.
I'd like some Mistletoe - app.

I'm not even kidding. I have all of these apps.

This phone is my Holy Grail, it's the Hall to my Oats, the Aladdin to my Jasmine, the Fred Bird to my Ozzy Smith, the pop to my tart.

So yeah, I'll always love my first, but this is a different kind of love, a new love that transcends time and space.

At least until the next iPhone release.

Male Validation

So I've finally caved. I've joined the ranks of reality show junkies.

My drug of choice?



I love that train wreck. I've managed to avoid Survivor, Big Brother, The Bachelor, etc., but give me fat girls with emotional baggage and I'm all over that shit like white on rice.

What absolutely makes this show for me has to be the non-repentant need for male validation and approval. All of these girls are so desperate for positive male attention that at the first smile from Luke they're instantly in love, crying, and proclaiming on camera to millions of people that their self-esteem has never been so high.

Really, this is what us fat girls are bringing to the table in relationships, co-dependence, inferiority complexes and complex carbohydrates (did anyone see those waffles on the last episode, damn they looked delicious and I don't even like breakfast)?

The young one, Mel Something Or Other, was the one I was rooting for. She was the most tragic mess. I really felt for her and wanted her to do well. Except for the fact that "doing well" in this competition meant winning the affection of the most herpes infested, dirt bag, male chauvinist pig I've seen on acceptable and politically correct TV. When she left she assured us that she grew in experience and self-esteem and that this was not the end, she would get her happy ending.

Girlfriend better settle for paying a male erotic masseur if she's thinking a man is going to solve all her problems. At least that way she can be guaranteed an orgasm and a back rub.

Then there's the "I love you" girl, (Kirsten, Kristian, I don't know, but I'm pretty sure it starts with a K) this chick was bug-nuts. There aren't any words for how obsessive, stalkerish, and desperate this woman was. She scared me, a lot. Now she's gone too.

So what's left to look forward too you ask? Well the three thinnest girls and the biggest hoe. Shocker.

All I can think when I see the King of the Douche Bags kiss another girl is, "No God NO! HERPES HERPES HERPES, protect yo' self! Get some dental dams or something. Do not kiss that man, Lord knows where his tongue has been in the last 30 minutes, down at least three or four girls throats, and I saw the way that he looked at that horse on his romantic date with the big hoe.

You can't fool me Luke, you can't fool me.



So Luke and some cute, blond chubby girl are on a date. He comments on the view and she agrees that it's beautiful. Then he says, "I was talking about about you." The cute blond looks like a deer in the headlights. How in the world can she be so pleased and shocked by the most overused, pointless, gag-inducing phrase man has ever uttered? If anyone EVER said that to me and was serious about it I'd be sick. Literally, I'd try to hold it in, but I make no promises. The only way to react to something that ridiculous and snark worthy is to puke right in the guys face.

Then on this very same date Luke talks to cute blond chubby girl about family and kids. She figures she will work and not stay home with them. He condescendingly asks her how she thinks the child care arrangements will work out with both of them working. Uh, hello asshole, if a woman wants to work, let her and child care is not just her problem it's your's too you chauvinist wanker. Please DIAF.

Cute blond chubby girl goes home too.

I hate this dude.

Puppy Pictures - As Requested

Here's Coleman:








He's cute and everything, but Katie is much cuter:



Okay, so it's Kate as a baby, she's still super cute even as an adult dog and I can't be arsed to search around my computer files to find a grown up version.

♥

The Dog

I had to leave my dog (Katie) at the farm last weekend because I'm going to be so busy over the next few weeks. I did, however, take another dog back home with me. His name is Coleman and he's a terrier mix. He's a truly adorable dog, very friendly and sweet.

He's driving me bat-shit insane. He cannot be alone, ever, I mean EVER. If I leave the room he barks, when I put him outside he barks, if I crate him he barks, if no one is paying attention to him he barks. The only time I get any peace at all is when he's running around my house like a loon and jumping on my furniture or sniffing my cats.

I'm at my wits end here. I don't deal well with barky dogs, and by that I mean I don't deal at all. There is nothing in this world that grates on my nerves more than barking. In comparison, nails on a chalkboard are a welcome relief.

Now, my Katie is no angel, she does bark and she's excessively hyper, but she listen's to me and knows when she needs to be quiet and when it's acceptable to get a little rowdy. I've raised her and she knows her limits. Okay, so maybe she doesn't always know her limits and my sisters basically hate her and curse at me every time I bring her to the farm.

But she's mine and I love her. She doesn't listen to anyone except me and she gets so excited when someone new comes around that you think she might rip your face right off from the excitement of it all. I swear she's a good dog though (okay I admit that I'm biased, but she's better than Coleman!!).

Coleman has no limits and it's such a small, yappy little thing. I'm not a small, yappy type dog girl. I never have been. Katie the beagle mix is as small a dog as I'll ever get.

Coleman is a terrier, the worst kind of yappy dog (in my opinion).

I suppose I should get to the actual story behind him. My mother and sisters "found" Coleman while they were camping. Someone dumped him and drove off. They don't understand how someone could do that with an obviously well-cared for pet (after living alone with Coleman for 3 days not only do I understand, I empathize).

Someone that I work with is interested in adopting him. I'm meeting up with her tonight and she'll take him for the weekend to see if he gets along with her current dog.

So even if you aren't religious I'm begging you to pray with me. Please let this woman fall head over heals for this small, yappy, irritating as hell dog. Because if I have to take him back on Sunday I'm pretty sure I'll commit puppy-murder by Monday night.

I was trying to do a good deed, getting this dog off the farm for my parents and finding him a good home, instead I'm just punishing myself.

Post Secret

My favorites and a personal one.
Look up Post Secret for more.