Saturday, July 31, 2010

The Cheerful Masochist

After venting out all of my frustrations that I have with men and pinning them all on one poor dude that I barely knew (how DARE he ignore me for an ENTIRE WEEK) - at least, on here, not TO him, obviously, I'm not that crazy - I was feeling much better because I had a lot of pent up feelings like whoa, and then I felt calm. Calmer, anyway.

And so I got ready for TKD, felt a wave of "blargh" wash over me, shrugged it off, bounced down to my car, and kept driving even though I felt like I really wasn't up for any sort of physical activity in a hot, sweltering room that would possibly cause me to pass out. So I went to Target in my not-for-public-viewing sweatpants (ok, there's nothing wrong with them, but, Target! Not Wal-Mart! It's a classy establishment! I was embarrassed. I have defiled the sacred grounds of my sanctuary) to pick up an Rx that I remembered I needed, wandered a bit, came home and immediately scrapped my plans of watching a movie and instead flopped down on my bed and tried unsuccessfully to nap. (I KNOW. I don't even know who I am anymore.)

So, I do the only thing there was to do, and I sent a couple random text messages out to a couple dudes from Match who apparently felt the need to give me their numbers, and then, I figured, what the hell, and I sent one to Dr. M.I.A. just for shits and giggles. Oddly enough he was the only one to respond, with a lackluster apology BUT a legitimate excuse (working 18+ hours a day for the past week or so).

Maybe I'm bored, maybe I'm just not smart, either way, I decided to let it slide. I mean, okay. It was a week. It wasn't the end of the world. It's not even, like, we were officially dating or anything anyway, despite where previous conversations may have hinted the road to be leading. And we texted for a little bit and I emailed a couple of my girls and was like, OK, So. And it was kind of mixed, but their general consensus was, eh, it's weak, but wait and see what happens.

I'm trying to look at this objectively. Because I've gotten really damn good at picking out the guys that will blow me off, it seems. But, along with that, I've gotten really good at spotting the guys that will below me off, and I'm more inclined to avoid them.

The general hypothesis for success in most things is to go with your instinct.

My initial instinct believes that he's not a bad guy. My current instinct is confused but willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. My emo-self is sipping from a flask and shaking her head and is probably convinced that I'm walking straight into a disaster and I'm going to get my heart smashed.

I'm kind of okay with that.

No, seriously, ok, listen.

I've been way too complacent for so long. At least if I get my heart broken, that means that I would have had to have actually used the damn thing, allowed myself to feel, allowed someone else into my life, and allowed myself to take a chance. All things that I have NOT been doing. Besides, my writing and my art was at its best when I was an angsty little shit in college. It's like being damaged helps you with your vocabulary, or something. I don't know.

So, the scenarios here are: give it a shot and (a) nothing happens, back to square one, right where we are now, nothing gained, nothing lost, and maybe a few extra blog posts squeezed out of it (b) it works, but only for a little while, and it's fun while it lasts and then it's done (c) it really works and I've got myself a man. Outcomes range from happiness to heartbreak and maybe I'm just being overly optimistic (where the hell did that come from?) but I don't see either one as being this big, horrible, tragic... thing.

And, hey, if nothing else, I've got two other guys waiting in the wings, and/or I renew my subscription and see what else is out there.

But, for better or for worse, I feel myself drawn to this particular guy, and I want to see where it goes.

So, I wrote this on Monday but I am really OCD about having only 1 post per day, so this one kind of got filed in behind all the other posts I wrote over the last couple days and pre-scheduled, so, um, I think I'm going to NOT write anything else until I catch up with myself. So, you know. I've got a five-day blogging abstinence stretch ahead of me*. HOLD ME.

*Except by the time you read this, that stretch will be over, because it looks like this bad boy isn't posting until Saturday. So you likely won't even notice the difference. Until I possibly hit you with a fricking huge-ass post on Sunday or Monday with, you know, the rest of the week in it.

Also, I think my giveaway is still going. You should probably go enter it. At the time of this writing, your odds are super good of winning something.

Friday, July 30, 2010

Still 25. Still Not Sure. Still Okay With That.

I was reading someone's blog the other day (naturally) and they were talking about something about life paths and where they thought they'd be, and did they take the right path? And okay fine everyone blogs about this because everyone struggles with this. (side: I found which post I was most recently referring to, that of my cousin, go click and read and ogle her cute baby. Hey, J, I'm gonna send you some traffic.) ;)

Which, OF COURSE, got me thinking. Even though I always think in circles and this is always in my head whether I am actually physically writing about it or not.

I never really had a plan. The plan was to go to college. Then finish college. Then get a job. Obviously, something glam where I was important and successful and maybe traveled (nay, jetsetted) and had assistants that either (a) loved me or (b) I could bitchily bark orders at. You know, the kind of high-powered job that a childless, single gal salivates over.

You know. Something like this.

Meryl? Kelly? Who can tell the difference?!

Oh God. I've really outdone myself with this one.

Or, in reality, something I at least didn't hate.

But, beyond that... I can't tell you.

Some people always knew what they wanted and where they wanted to be.

I didn't. I still don't.

And to be honest? I like not knowing where I'm going. To be blissfully free to explore the options. How will I know if I'm on track? If I get there? Well... I won't, really. Not in any sort of definite terms. But I'll know. I'll feel it.

Sometimes, I have these moments, where I am able to step outside myself, observe myself, my life - and I know that I am exactly where I want to be. These moments are my guideposts.

Except part of me - the old part - is starting to... well, not panic, exactly, but shouldn't I be figuring this out? It's irresponsible. It's reckless. You're not getting any younger, you know.

And thank God for that. I have no interest in going backwards.

So, okay. Sometimes my life can be this putrid pile of shit. But you know what? So is everyone else's. And it's MY pile of shit and I have the ability to fix it, scoop it, move on, whatever. I'm only 25. Two months from 26. And 30 is looming on the horizon like some significant landmark that I need to have my life in place by. A deadline. But why? If I turn 30 and I'm still doing what makes me happy, that's hardly a tragedy. I don't need to be married, or have a ring, or a house, or kids, or a mortgage. I can still be just fine in my cute little apartment with my cat, with my free time just that - free. I can read, watch a movie, sleep, or write. Write, like I've wanted to do my whole life.

(related previous posts here and here)

I love being young and being able to go out to trendy bars, to trashy bars, to bars with bands and bars with neon and bars with mood lighting. Drinking martinis (or beer) and living my life free of obligation or commitment. To be spontaneous or to plan a full social calendar. I like leaving my options open, I like not knowing where this road is going. And maybe I'd like somebody in my passenger seat along for the ride, but it's not necessary.

And I think about all these things and there's no way I could have predicted where I would end up. I'm working at an agency like I always wanted, I have some of the most awesome friends and co-workers that I ever could have hoped for, I love my small city and even this stupid state that I always swore I'd leave when given the chance.

Because the world is different when you're seventeen, and when you're twenty-five.

And honestly? I would never want to go back to 17. I was so painfully naïve. I was smart but not wise. I'm still not - just wiser. I wouldn't have wanted to know then what I know now, either, or I would have just thrown in the towel. My blind optimism is what got me to where I am now; my pessimism is what keeps me from taking things too seriously. I may have been thin and pretty at 17, but I honestly do think I look better now. I'm me in my own skin now. I may be fatter than I was then, and not nearly as athletic/active, but I take pretty good care of myself and have a better general sense of the world.

The world, which I am trying to find my place in. Eventually.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Victory is MINE! (for now)

Something magical happened this weekend, guys. Something that probably only happened because I was at home stewing about how men are worthless assholes, or something, but at any rate. It happened.

My Google Reader, which generally looks like this:

As of Sunday evening around 10:45 or so, looked like this:

That's right, bitches. I brought that shit down to ZERO.

I give it approximately three days before it skyrockets back up into the 400's again.

Speaking of Readers, if you are behind on yours, go enter my giveaway. DO IT NOW!!!

Wednesday, July 28, 2010


Please click on Gerard Butler's abs to be taken to my giveaway.

I just thought I would issue a reminder since I was smart enough to post it on a Saturday when nobody reads blogs. And then buried it under a 5-page novel about how I'm pissed off at men.

You're welcome.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

I'll Understand If You Don't Think I'm As Brilliant As I Think I Am

OK, FIRST. I realize my last post ended up being kind of an angry, man-hating crazy bitch rant-fest, and I also know that I'm totally overreacting. But you know what? It's out of my system now. And also? It's a legit peeve of mine because this ALWAYS HAPPENS and it's this exact. same. pattern. every time... and so I'm just kind of wary of the whole thing. That said? I'm still kind of pissed. But, not, like, as much. Whatever.

On to the actual post that I had for today...

* * *

So I did something that I've been wanting to do for a while.

I pimped out my Nano.

In case you're horribly confused... I went to Iowa State University, home of the Cyclones*, and that there bird is our mascot, Cy. Whom I love dearly. Now, do you see the genius of this?

iPod? CyPod? GET IT?

Whatever, it was a red iPod and I had to do it. You love it too.

*We were also the birthplace of rice krispie bars and the first modern computer. So, you know. You're welcome, for that.

Don't forget to enter my giveaway! Because, why the hell not?

Monday, July 26, 2010

Story #2

So... disclaimer alert: I started this... never finished... never posted... and now I've added to it. Because I decided not to break it into two posts, and so, um. It's a fully self-contained (probably) story and also mildly long and I'd apologize except this is probably the most interesting thing to happen to me in quite a while so I'm not really sorry. Except about the length. But, can't be helped. Grab some popcorn and settle in.

If you're one of those unlucky enough to be in my circle of email-correspondence confidantes, you've undoubtedly gotten at least one spazzalicious email with me trying to put coherent sentences together because, um.

It appears as though I have met a dude. Online. Probably. Maybe. I'm trying not to prematurely get my hopes up.

To be fair, I've "met" a few. Definition of "met" being "exchanged messages with." There's actually one guy that I sort of feel bad for because he started emailing me a while ago and he seems perfectly nice and we seem to have a lot in common, but. Ok, maybe it's weird to expect some sort of connection with someone else sitting at a computer however many miles away, but I didn't feel anything. And I thought this was ridiculous, I mean, seriously, what was I expecting?


It IS possible to feel a connection through a machine, and it actually kind of took me by surprise. I don't know really how to explain it, other than I felt that same rush, that same adrenaline, that same giddy feeling that you feel when you actually meet someone that you connect with. It takes your breath away in a weird, awesome way, and you realize you've been settling.

I've been weighing how in detail I wanted to go with this, because, you know. If this goes anywhere and if this guy finds/reads this blog, it's probably going to be super embarrassing. On the other hand, I have horrible luck with men and I don't believe in censoring myself, so storytime, ahoy! ;)


(That said... I'm really sorry if this gets long but I'm going to cram everything into one post and be done with it, but, well, you know how I get, so bear with me).

Let's start at the beginning. The beginning being about a week or so ago? I'm not sure. I'm also not sure how I stumbled across his profile... he was completely outside of my search parameters because I wasn't casting a huge geographical net, so to speak. I wanted to hit my little city, and the surrounding area, including the metropolis of Des Moines, where I assume all the men are hiding from me. So him being across the state was not something that would have probably been in the "pro" column. I mean, it wasn't a total dealbreaker or anything, Iowa's not really that big and pretty much everything is only a 2-3 hour drive from anywhere else... but it wasn't ideal.

Even so, I decided to give it a "eh, what the hell?" and sent him a wink. (Because, you know. I'm pretty cool and that's how I roll). His profile basically sounded like a male version of me (which is to say, a sarcastic - yet charming! - workaholic), and, hey, I like me, so if nothing else, we could probably be pretty good friends. Much to my surprise, he winked back at me almost right away.

(I'll take the time here to point out that Internet dating has proven to be eerily like real-life dating... the guys I'm interested in don't really give me much of a second look, whereas the guys I'm not interested in are the ones that are eagerly trying to catch my attention. WHY IS THIS.)

At this point, I am now forced with having to OMG COMMUNICATE with him and find something cute, witty, and intelligent to say that won't scare him off.


So I send a message that was probably retarded because I am socially awkward sometimes. But, he sends me an instant message through the chat module on the site and was all "I was totally just messaging you when I got your message" and I was like "weird" and then we ended up switching over to a non-shitty IM platform and proceeded to chat for THREE AND A HALF HOURS. Which, I'm not an expert, but I consider that to be a good sign. I struggle with conversations sometimes. Especially on the phone. But this was on the Internet, which is basically my comfort zone, and so I totally had the home-court advantage or whatever, to use a sports metaphor, which for some reason I feel compelled to do.

Anyway. I'm all, like, swoony after this, for a variety of reasons. FIRST and probably most importantly, he has the same sense of humor that I do... and is as big of a smart-ass as I am. Perfect, right? Secondly, he's smart. Like, ridiculously so. HE USES WORDS I DON'T KNOW. (I actually had to infer their meaning through the context of the conversation. Do you know how long it has been since I've had to do that? WORDS ARE MY BITCH.) A man with a better vocabulary than me? FAINTY SWOON. Thirdly! He's actually moving to my side of the state. Like, this weekend. I'm not sure if that could have possibly worked out any better. I mean. Yeah. Believe what you will about coincidences and luck, but that was my biggest hangup and it totally dissolved. Fourthly, relating to point #2, he has two undergrad degrees from my alma mater (which I am kind of ridiculously attached to, hell, I still live in the same town because it's as though I'm tied to it, which is another post for another day), a PhD in neuroscience, and is currently in med school. (Which is why he's moving over here, for a six month rotation in The Moines.) Not to be all superficial, because, whatever, but, if you'll allow me a moment for superficiality - the man's a fucking doctor. TELL ME THAT'S NOT HOT. What's even hotter is that he's not all pretentious or obnoxious about it, it's just, like, it is what it is. He's a science geek and that's adorable. Fifthly, he calls me on my bullshit when I'm being all vague or just, you know, being a girl. Which is awesome. I don't know if I've mentioned it on here before, but I've been saying (or at least thinking) for quite a while that that's exactly what I need. I don't want a relationship where I walk over the guy. Because I'm very Type-A (no, really, I know) and have a very... erm... strong personality, and quite frankly, I need someone who can not only handle that, but keep it in check. I need someone who is at least on my level, personality-wise, intelligence-wise, everything-wise - if not higher. (I mean, not too high, obviously. My poor ego wouldn't stand for that.)

Sixthly, seventhly, whatever. He got all excited the next night to talk to me when I messaged him. He thinks I'm hot. He's really nice, like, sweet but not too nice.

Anyway, so. I almost got to meet him on Saturday because he was in town to move some stuff over early, but long story short, it didn't work out, but we ended up talking on the phone for about an hour and a half.

Those of you that know me, know this is significant, because I hate hate hate talking on the phone and I am terrible at it. Aforementioned friend Molly kind of stared at me like I'd sprouted an extra arm or something when I mentioned this, because it's common knowledge that I just don't DO phones well. Not even with people I know. So this was kind of a grand achievement for me in and of itself. But the conversation was easy; like it just made sense that I would be talking at length to this guy I'd never even heard of just a few days before. And he kept coaxing me out of my comfort zone, but, like, in a good way, I think? I've been so closed off for so long, it is SO HARD for me to open up and just say what's in my head without self-editing first, without getting self-conscious and second-guessing myself, and yes, this all happens in the milliseconds of the conversation wherein it becomes my turn to speak, and he wouldn't just let me clam up and avoid answering. It was simultaneously irritating and frustrating and refreshing and liberating. I don't know. Also, I don't really have a "thing" about guys' voices, as long as they're normal-sounding or whatever, but I found myself to be really attracted to the sound of his. Which is good. I mean, ok, I've seen the pictures he has online and obviously I found him attractive or I wouldn't have even "approached" him because I am way shallow, but I haven't actually SEEN him, so his voice and IM font are all I really have to go off of for now. (For those of you that have asked or will ask - his profile says he's 6'2" and has light brown hair and blue eyes and "about average" body type which is pretty much perfect because I am a huge hypocrite about weight and also I don't like skinny dudes either because they make me feel huge in comparison. Also? I don't have a specific preference, but I am a big fan of blue eyes. Because, if, you know, I ever change my mind and have kids, I want them to have blue eyes too, and it's a recessive gene, and I need someone else with blue eyes to guarantee that. And also I just like blue eyes better anyway. Whatever.)

Also it weirds me out that he actually seems to like me. This is a foreign concept to me for some reason. I'm not used to being wanted. I usually end up being a place-holder until some other girl comes along. It's been SO LONG since a guy has expressed such obvious interest that it makes me feel all awkward. I don't know how to respond to that. (I KNOW. I have issues. We knew this.) I'm almost worried that he thinks I'm TOO awesome... and that I'm going to be this horrible disappointment when he actually meets me. (Yes, I know, this is ridiculous and crazy but that's how my brain works.) This also relates directly to the fact that I've decided he's probably way too good for me.

If I were to make some sort of list, or conjure up what I am looking for, right now... this guy would fit. Completely and totally. I feel almost as though I've started making a mental tally and he'll just say something random and I'll put a little checkbox in the "pros" column. Cons column is super tiny. Like... he has a dog. That's not even a bad thing. I myself am not particularly a dog person, slobbery/jumpy dogs make me anxious, I don't know. But if that's the worst thing about him, I've got it made. Maybe the fact that he's only in the area for 6 months, then after that, who knows, but I'm getting way ahead of myself. And besides, I generally get dumped after three, so, you know. We're good.

Also, my general cynical nature would dictate that anything too good to be true probably is. However, maybe, just maybe, karma's coming back around and maybe something good is actually happening, to make up for all the shit that I've been wading through for the last however many years. It's my turn, dammit.

I hope he's as awesome in person as he has been via online conversation/phone conversation. And it's probably weird that I'm so smitten over a guy that I've not actually met, whose last name I don't know, and for all I know, could be completely full of shit.

So, anyway, that was the weekend. I'm writing this on Wednesday so by the time it gets posted it might be void, but I haven't really talked to him since then, save for a brief conversation Monday night where he was super tired and not overly conversational and I was all, well, okay then, *awkward* and kind of went about my business. Here's the thing, though. I'm not - and don't want to be - THAT girl, the one that has to be constantly slathered with attention, because, well, that's lame. I'm okay - more than okay - by myself and don't need personal validation from some guy. (Yes, I know, I'm so self-actualized. Maslow would be so proud.)

I mean, don't get me wrong. I AM a girl and therefore battle raging insecurity on a daily basis. And I've done this whole routine before and it's really unattractive... it's like I get possessed or something, and maybe come off a clingier than I would have liked. But, that was a long time ago, and I've had a lot of down-time to re-evaluate what the fuck was going on in my head. And now? Now, I'm good.

Besides. He's straightforward enough that if he wasn't interested anymore, for whatever reason, he would have SAID something to that effect. This is one of the things I have absolutely no doubt on (at least when the logical side of my brain is in charge.) Besides-besides. He's a med student. It's not like he's, you know, not busy or anything.

Good lord. If this happens to work out and we start dating, I'm totally deleting this post. If we don't, then, whatever. Here's evidence of my first foray into online dating and subsequent crushy-ness. Whooo!


So, I wrote the majority of the post on Wednesday and - spoiler! - it's now Sunday night as I'm finishing it up and there's been not a sound sans the proverbial cricket chirping.

I'm willing to entertain logical options. I mean, he was in the middle of getting ready to move across the state. And it's very possible that in this process both his Internet was disconnected AND his phone broke AND - well, okay, whatever. I'm not even good at sarcasm right now which is how you know I'm just rather... displeased. I'm not even pissed. I mean, okay, I am, a little. But mostly? Disappointed.

I'm not going to play the game where I'm all "omg, did I say/do/think/be something I shouldn't have??" because: No. I did not. If, in fact, this is a case of rejection, then at least I'm being rejected for me, not some phony version of me that I decided to pretend to be, in order to be what I thought was wanted. If that makes sense. I didn't say anything that I would second-guess. I wasn't creepy or desperate or weird or any of the things that girls (myself included, in the past) are sometimes known to be. I did nothing wrong.

So, whatever.

And maybe he found someone else online. That's fine. A little heads up to let me know that he wasn't interested and thus no longer leaving me hanging, would have only been fair. Maybe he just changed his mind. Also fine. Still, same deal. Don't blow me off for a week. It's so high school. I would have thought at this point, we were past that. Be a fucking adult about it.

I don't know. It's just not sitting well with me. Lord knows I'm okay with rejection. I've learned to be. But inexplicably just disappearing? Not. Fucking. Cool.

(Here's where I will, I guess, disclaim. That if, by some miraculous chance, he has some good excuse and an even better apology, I will perhaps hear him out. And it better be the most fucking sincere apology in the history of apologies because, you know what? I deserve to be treated better than this. I don't care who you are or how awesome you might have been.)

And basically I'm back to my general place of hating all men for virtue of the fact that they are all full of shit. And yes, I am making this generalization because I am speaking from my own personal experience. I have not yet met a guy who didn't inevitably smash my feelings in some form or another. They say nice things and sometimes even make promises but you know what? Full. of. shit.

I'm just. I don't know. I'm so over it. Over this guy, over all guys. Because I've been let down by one after another in an endless string of douchery that I've been trying so hard to avoid. I know there are, in fact, nice guys out there. I've seen them, I've met them. And they all belong to someone else. I put myself out there just a little bit and I just get kicked aside AGAIN. I'm starting to truly believe that, maybe? I was in fact meant to just do all this life stuff alone. Which is totally okay. I'm good with alone.

I've still got a week or two left on my subscription, I don't know if I will really do much with it or not. I'm really kind of turned off by the whole thing. I don't know what I was expecting, but really, if I wanted to get blown off and treated like shit, I could just go back to hitting the bars and getting rejected the old-fashioned way. I don't need to be paying money to feel pathetic and unwanted.

One of the things that sucks, though, I must say, about this whole online-dating thing... if you get rejected? You're getting rejected based on who you are, not what you look like. I mean, if it had been the case of, 'oh, hey, um. you're not what I thought. maybe lose 20 pounds and call me," that would be one thing, because that would be perfectly shallow and yet somehow acceptable, because it wasn't me, it was just, I dunno, the packaging. But as I have not yet been "seen" - that's the only thing I can conclude. I, myself, me, my personality, it is a failure.

I know, I know. I'm being overdramatic. STFU, I have a natural flair for it. Once I get it out of my system, I'll be fine.

Anyway. Sorry about the completely spastic 180 that this post took. This is what happens when you start writing something and let it sit for a week. Blogging FAIL.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

To Droid, Or Not To Droid?

My wireless provider FINALLY got an Android phone. And I want it. Bad. I mean, okay, don't get me wrong. We allllll know how much I love my Blackberry. And there's really nothing wrong with it.* However... the 'droid is much sexier, sleeker, and, more importantly, has a better browser. The Blackberry browser is worse than, I don't know. Netscape. If that thing's still around. IE6. All browsers that suck, mixed together, mated, and the demon spawn thereof.

*So, the other night, it went completely unresponsive. I could tell it was working, cause it was on, and making noises, and the little rollerball worked, but NONE of the buttons were responsive. I couldn't call out, I couldn't check texts, I probably couldn't answer calls... it was actually rather traumatic. Even if it wasn't, you know, an extra appendage most days, it's my ONLY contact with the outside world. I canNOT have this thing go out on me.

I went in to see when I was eligible for a new phone, how much extra this one would be, how much it was, etc. Verdict? I was eligible anytime I damn well pleased, it would cost me $5 more per month than I was paying now since they hiked up the rate on all their data plans, and if I signed a 2 year contract again, I totally got the discounted price PLUS a $70 rebate. So, you know. A $400 phone for $100 or something like that. Not shabby.

I refrained from making a snap decision and decided to wait it out until at least Friday (payday), but the more thought I put into it... I might wait. I really want to buy a new external drive for my computer, and, you know, food and gas for my car, and other stuff. Working my new part time job has been glorious on my bank account and I'm actually sailing smoothly into this next payday instead of splurging on Ramen to get me through, but. I don't NEED a new phone yet, so I'm going to wait a little bit longer.

Anyone have an Android? Is it as amazing as I suspect it to be? I need answers.

Don't forget to enter my giveaway! Because all of my self-worth centers around people responding favorably to this.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

SPARTAAAAA - or, My 300th Blog Post Giveaway

Now that we are finally at Post #300 (for real, this time) - I'm going to do a GIVEAWAY.

I'm not going to make you jump through any extra hoops... all participation will be self-contained in this blog, probably because I'm too lazy to track down extracurricular entries. The Internet's a big place, ya know? So, you don't have to tweet about it or talk about it on your blog or link to it anywhere. I mean, you can, if you really really want to... but it's not going to really get you any extra entries or anything, so. Your call.

Mostly? I'm not trying to draw people here so much as I am doing this as a thank you to those of you that are already here. (Note: now would be a great time to de-lurk).

Prize #1 - aka The Grand Prize

OMG! It's a book! And it's a really effing good one. Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress by Susan Jane Gilman, which is apparently going out of print or something, either that or Amazon hates quality literature.* I may have mentioned once or twice or ten times how much I am obsessed with memoirs right now... and it's pretty much because of this book. If, for whatever reason, you like this blog, you will LOVE this book, because Susan Jane Gilman is witty and profound and sassy and everything I want to be, times a thousand. Insert cliche here: I laughed, I cried (no seriously... but mostly laughed), I went out and snatched up both her other books. This book reads like fiction but it's awesome because it's not. Just... trust me.

*These are the only conclusions they are leaving me to draw. (this is also code for: all they have now are used copies. So, whatever I get sent from a reseller, is what you get. Whatever, you're not paying for it. Don't complain.)

Prize #2 - aka The Not Quite Grand But Still Pretty Damn Cool Prize

So, my BFFski Calee (affectionately known to all as "chimes") is not only my co-conspirator from college and my new Fitness Yoga (tm), she's also a super talented craftster and makes the most adorable things. I wanted to get one of her camera cases/iPod cozies because I loooove mine, but, alas, she's running low on inventory and needs to produce more. (If you want one, though... *cough* here's her etsy shop *cough*)

Because she's awesome and loves me (or maybe because I promised to pimp out her wares) Ms. Chimes is graciously donating a set of completely awesomesauce fabric patchwork greeting cards, which I've actually been eyeballing myself since she made them. They are a set of 5 blank cards and come with envelopes, constructed from 120# Neenah Classic Columns paper which is pretty heavy duty coverweight stock that, bonus, is made from recycled content.

I don't really have a segue sentence here so pretend I do.

Prize #3 - aka The Thing I Found In My Apartment That I Am Too Lazy To Try To Recoup Any Financial Recovery On So I Will Just Give It Away Here Instead, Prize

So, I bought this shirt from Threadless a long time ago and it totally doesn't fit me because it's small and I'm not and I don't know why I thought it would work. Anyway, I do have one the right-ish size now and this one has just kind of been sitting around not ever being worn for like two years (or more? I think I bought it when I was in college. HOLY SHIT GUYS.) and so I'm going to re-home it to someone who can actually get some wear/enjoyment out of it and also to get it off my freaking dresser because I do not need all this extra shit in my apartment.

NOTE: This shirt is a WOMEN'S Size LARGE and feels like it's probably printed on an American Apparel tee but I can't really find a tag to verify this so I'm just going to use my vast apparel knowledge from my day-life and also because I think that's what they used to print on all the time.* I realize that this may not fit everyone out there so you might be pissed if you win it but you can always re-gift it to someone that it would fit and then you look thoughtful and like you spent money. Or, you know. You could politely reject it and I could give it to a runner-up. And send you something else of my own choosing. oooh, aaaah.

*After actually, you know, visiting their website, I was in fact correct and it is on an American Apparel tee. Which, if you don't have one... they are like the softest awesomest shirts ever. Even if their website and models are creepy and weird. Also this shirt is currently sold out so if you had any desire of owning a girly size Large right now, THIS IS THE ONLY PLACE YOU CAN GET IT. Except maybe eBay. I don't know. But here it's free.

Prize #4 - aka The Consolation Prize

I just found this picture on the Internet and it is not an accurate indication of the actual thing you will receive.
But it's probably going to be of a similar quality/awesomeness to what I will actually find to send.

I will send you a really kitschy Iowa postcard that you can hang on your fridge/cubicle/put in your scrapbook, and make all your friends jealous that you know somebody in a state they probably can't even find on the map. I'll obviously write a charming little message on it too. (Trust me. It will make you smile. I've SEEN our postcard offerings.)

(what? I'm not made of money.)

So, all you have to do is this:

Ask me a question. Presumably one you want answered.

I will totally answer these in a future blog post. Or post(s) if I get wordy. (so, you know. Probably the latter).

Anything you're dying to know? Ask away, formspring-style.

OR! If you're drawing a blank...

Just leave me a comment, but you have to tell me something nice.

Give me a compliment. Tell me what your favorite post is. Why the hell you even read this blog. Tell me that my hair looks nice or that I really do look like Isla Fisher. Anything that moves you. Lie if you want. I need to keep my self-esteem in top shape.

Or you can do both. I'm not going to stop you.

Leave as many comments as you want. Each one counts as an entry. Or if you want to be economical with your commenting, just, like, bullet point them or something. I'll randomize them and pick from there.

Self-serving? Absolutely. Here's the thing, though - I'm doing this entirely out of my own pocket, so I'll do what I want.

So, you know. Ready, set, go. You've got until... hmm. August 7? That's two weeks. That's reasonable, right? (I KNOW, I KNOW, two weeks is AN ETERNITY in Internet-time.) Until whenever midnight is, your time, August 7th. Because I'm not going to do shit with anything until that Sunday afternoon anyway.

Good lord. I need to just shut up already. Ok, that's it, the end! Comment away!

Disclaimer 1: I have never actually seen 300.

Disclaimer 2: I've never had to do disclaimers on here before.

Disclaimer 3: I'm not being compensated in any way for promoting any of these things. It's a pity, really. I'd totally sell out in a heartbeat.

Disclaimer 4: Ok, I guess I did not have to pay for Prize #2 because the Chimester is awesome. Those were donated. I have to say this so the FCC doesn't come after me. This is pretty presumptuous on my part because I'm really rather insignificant in the grand scheme of things, and I'm still not actually making any money off of it or benefitting in any way other than attention-whoring myself out. If anyone benefits, it's Chimes, because she's my friend I'm promoting her crafties which I would have done anyway even if I would have had to pay for them, but apparently she thinks I have lots of readers or something.

Disclaimer 5: I don't really get the point of the previous disclaimer. Or disclaimers in general. I'm so bad at this. OH GOD I AM NEVER DOING THIS AGAIN.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Cleaning House

I'm like super more-than-usual strung out over this blog right now because I am SO CLOSE to just hitting that stupid 300 mark so I can just post my Giveaway already because it's going to be awesome. (Tomorrow, dudes. Tomorrow.)

So. What I have for you today is, well, brain vomit, really. It's all the half-thoughts and un-hashed out snippets I yanked out of my drafts folder to try to clean it up. Yeah. Well, it's a start anyway.

* While we're doing follow-ups, I found out that the Octodog is to be served on a bed of mac 'n' cheese. Did that not just make that 100x more... umm, you know what, I still don't have a word for this. Special. It's special.

* Speaking of special. Fucking Special K cereal. With its "eat me and be skinny!" and expensive box that holds about FOUR bowls of cereal. Okay maybe I eat slightly larger bowls of cereal than the average person, but still. I feel ripped off.

* I really enjoy the barter system. The other day my friend bought me a sammich at Panera and I gave her a lipgloss I bought at VS that I didn't really like after all. It was an even trade, and everyone was happy.

* I wonder if Beyonce knew she was creating the new bouquet-toss theme song.

* I bought a new pillow. It was probably the greatest use of $5 I've spent in a while. Usually I spend it on sandwiches.

* Dear Rihanna, re: "Love The Way You Lie." REALLY? You want to sing a song about being okay with being abused? I just lost any respect for you I might have had.

* One of the things I have learned from living by myself is that it is entirely possible to push the limits of the expiration date of foods. (related: anyone know if ketchup really expires?)

* Anyway. This is post #299 so tune in tomorrow for the most cracked out giveaway post ever.


Thursday, July 22, 2010

27. 4. Whatever. The Math Is Unimportant Here.

I got bridesmaid'd by my lovely friend Steph. (Which is, you know. Like being knighted. Except it involves a dress and flowers.) I am way excited. I am starting to get good at this whole bridesmaid thing, although I'm a shitty maid of honor so nobody should probably ask me to do that ever again. I don't really know what I'm supposed to be doing.

Anyway. This is going to be me soon:

Yes. We were overdue for a photoshop job.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Pull Up A Chair, Kids.... Story #1

Ok, so, as promised, here is my first story from my Adventures in Online Dating.

It's not going to be super long, since it has an unfinished ending, but whatevs.

Also, it's not even about me.

Intrigued? You should be.

Ok, let's rewind a little bit.

For those of you unfamiliar with this particular online dating site (or, as I shall now refer to it, the Source Of Blog Material), it works like this: you can sign up for an account for free. But if you want to actually DO anything, get out your plastic. Which, I mean, I think most sites are like. I actually think this is good... the ones that are totally free have some really creepy people on them. At least you can probably make some sort of assumption that if someone is forking over $30/month*, they're probably at least somewhat invested in the outcome. Or, you know, they did it for shits and giggles and to see if anything interesting would come of it. *cough*

*It might be cheaper if you pay for a multiple-month sub, but they make you do it all at once up front, and I was all, hello, so not paying $50 for this little experiment. We'll see what happens by the end of the month. Idk.

Anyway. There is a "wink" function on the site, which is kind of like, I don't know, the facebook poke. Because that's totally how we used the facebook poke when facebook was new, in ye olden days of 2004. In addition to annoying your friends, it was one of those subtle moves you could pull to make the object of your interest notice you and maybe a really lame passive-aggressive means of flirting. Oh, whatever, you did it too.

ANYWAY. You can "wink" at people to kind of be all "hey, you're sort of interesting and I may/may not be interested in you, but I am too lazy/shy/uninterested/unsubscribed to send you a message." Thereabouts.

I sent a few winks out and acquired more winks in my direction than I'd sent. Because, well, let's face it. From the neck up, I'm not too bad to look at. Although - guys - this probably deserves its own post - I'm starting to feel a little more comfortable in my skin. Maybe it's because I've begrudgingly made necessary clothing-size adjustments and things fit better, or maybe I'm actually being active enough that maybe - HOLD YOUR BREATH KNOCK ON WOOD - some of it is starting to melt off. Anyway. I checked that "about average" box on my profile even though I had a full three-minute moral and ethical existential crisis because I was trying to decide if that was honest. I mean, I could have picked curvy. But you know what? I AM average, dammit. I'm not too small, not too big, not too anything. I'm me and I'm HEALTHY and OKAY.


Where was I? Holy shit. Sidetrack city.

Ok, so a bunch of dudes winked at me, which I can only assume was because of my stellar good looks and sparkling personality (in which I probably sounded a little bitchy but that was totes on purpose to weed out the unworthy. Or something).

As would be a logical process, whenever a dude winked at me, I would then go check out his profile. Because, you know. If he was cute, maybe he was an idiot. Or if he wasn't cute, maybe he was brilliant. Or something. If I was lucky, he'd be both cute and coherent and maybe I'd wink back.

Orrrrrr, maybe I'd find a guy that exactly matched up to what I believed was the ideal future life partner of my lovely former roommate and darling friend Molly.

No shit, guys. I started reading his profile, and was like... ZOMG! And so we had an opportunity before us.

You're right. I totally, totally circumvented normal protocol and made it my mission to set them up.

I immediately sent her a really cracked out email (not sure that I actually send other types of emails) and told her all about it, and I think I piqued her interest a little, so taking the not-no as permission to proceed, I turned around and messaged this guy, and was all, "so, I know this isn't really the way this site works, BUT." (I mean, hey. As long as someone meets someone, that's totally the end goal, right? So it's legit. Sorta.) I think he was a little startled by it, but his interest was piqued as well (MUTUAL PIQUAGE, PEOPLE!) and gave me his email address to pass along to her.

But seriously, he's a perfect catch for her - he's going to be a freaking lawyer (smart + $), he's Catholic (as is she), conservative (as is she, and as I am so very, very not), he loves Irish beer and Ireland and other Irish things (Molly is very Irish), and I forget what else.

Anyway, since I know you are DYING to know how it all played out... well. I can't tell you because it's not DONE yet, obviously. I know they've been emailing each other a little bit and they seem to be hitting it off and after he's done studying for and subsequently taking the bar exam, they're totally going to go out on a date and get married and live happily ever after.*

*or at least the date. I may or may not be getting ahead of myself. But, SQUEE!

And, of course, if this works out, she has totally agreed to split my subscription fee with me.

Monday, July 19, 2010

These Things Really Shouldn't Faze Me Anymore

Show of hands, who's heard of the Iowa State Fair?

Ok that's totally irrelevant I guess because I am going to tell you about it. I'm actually only going to tell you about the absurd food that they are kind of famous for. (That, and being the gathering hub for all forms of Midwestern hicks. This is the #1 people-watching place in the WORLD, people. TRUST ME.)

If you'd like to read about my experience at the Fair last year, click here.

Anyway this post is ENTIRELY inspired by a story in the Des Moines Register about one of their new items for this year.

Behold, the OCTODOG.

If you're confused, yes, those are hot dogs. Probably fried ones. On a stick. Made to look like Octopi.

You're welcome.


WAIT! The Fair has an entire page on their website dedicated to their Foods on a Stick. (This does not, as far as I can tell, include any of the deep-friend candy bars or their ginormous turkey legs. We mustn't forget those.) Anyway I'm blatantly stealing it for your enjoyment.

  1. Fair Square (ed. note - I don't know what this is)
  2. Frozen s’more on-a-stick
  3. Chocolate-dipped cake on-a-stick
  4. Chicken club on-a-stick
  5. Buffalo chicken on-a-stick
  6. Chocolate-covered peanut butter round on-a-stick
  7. Chocolate-covered key lime round on-a-stick
  8. Carmellows on-a-stick
  9. Pretzel rods dipped in caramel or chocolate
  10. Pickle on-a-stick
  11. Pork chop on-a-stick
  12. Corn dog
  13. Cheese on-a-stick
  14. Cajun chicken on-a-stick
  15. Sesame chicken on-a-stick
  16. Carmel apple
  17. German sausage on-a-stick
  18. Teriyaki beef on-a-stick
  19. Corn on the cob on-a-stick
  20. Cotton candy
  21. Veggie dog on-a-stick
  22. Turkey drumstick
  23. Nutty bar
  24. Fried pickle on-a-stick
  25. Hot bologna on-a-stick
  26. Shrimp on-a-stick
  27. Chicken on-a-stick
  28. Monkey Tails (chocolate covered banana on-a-stick)
  29. Taffy on-a-stick
  30. Honey on-a-stick
  31. Ice cream Wonder Bar
  32. Deep fried Snickers bar on-a-stick
  33. Deep fried 3 Musketeers bar on-a-stick
  34. Deep fried Milky Way bar on-a-stick
  35. Deep fried Twinkie on-a-stick
  36. Lamb on-a-stick
  37. Meatballs on-a-stick
  38. Deep fried hoho on-a-stick
  39. Fudge Puppy (waffle drenched in chocolate syrup and topped with whipped cream)
  40. Chili Dog on-a-stick
  41. Funtastick Pork on-a-stick
  42. Dutch letters on-a-stick
  43. Turkey tenders on-a-stick
  44. Deep fried hot dog on-a-stick
  45. Chocolate covered cheesecake on-a-stick
  46. Potato Lollipop (4 thick slices of russet potato deep fried and on-a-stick with dipping sauces)
  47. Pineapple on-a-stick (Fresh pineapple dipped in funnel cake batter and deep fried)
  48. Chicken lips on-a-stick (breaded chicken breast smothered with hot sauce, served with blue cheese dressing).
  49. Cornbrat on-a-stick (bratwurst dipped in corndog batter)
  50. Frozen fudge brownie on-a-stick
  51. Ice cream cookie sandwich on-a-stick
  52. Rock candy on-a-stick
  53. Salad on-a-stick
  54. Hard-boiled egg on-a-stick
Fair is Aug 12-22, guys. BUY YOUR TICKETS NOW.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Gateway Post.

So. I did it. I broke down and out of boredom or curiosity or whatever, I joined an online dating site.

I don't feel like this should be weird. One of my besties found her fiance on there. One of my cousins met her husband online. Given how much of my life is connected to/fueled by/lived on the Internet... why shouldn't I attempt this? I shop online for shoes, jewelry, books, furniture, jobs, apartments... why not shop for a boyfriend?

(Just one more website to frequent... noooooo)

I'm clearly not getting anywhere on my own. I'm kind of over the whole thing. This town is full of douchebag frat-boy types and that's not what I want. Not that I DO know what I want, but I know what I don't want. And that's enough of a distinction for me.

And I know there have to be single dudes hiding in the area. Just, statistically speaking. Right? Right.

Anyway. I don't have much to say at this point beyond that this is just something I've been curious about for a while and I thought I'd give it a stab. And I really made an effort to not sugarcoat or exaggerate my profile, because, really, what good does that do? I was somewhat selective of a photo or two.. I mean, just because I am hugely skeptical and not entirely taking this seriously, doesn't mean I can't make myself look good, right?

I was browsing profiles and was all 'keeping an open mind' and then it kind of hit me and it was like, you know what? Go ahead and be picky. If some guy isn't quite what you want, keep looking. Now is not the time nor place to settle. Cast a narrow net and if it doesn't work out, THEN broaden your criteria. This is about me and about what I want, and I'm not going to waste my time (or money) browsing through guys that I know aren't it. So what if they're cute? If they're a divorced conservative who only loves dogs and is "definitely" wanting kids, they're not a bad person - it's just that I don't need the extra drama, conflicting political beliefs, or to pretend to love dogs when really most of them give me anxiety issues. (I DONT KNOW WHY, OKAY. It's really only big dogs. I am okay with little dogs. Or cuddly dogs. But big, jumpy, active dogs... I don't know. I have issues.), and I'm not sure if I want kids, because right now I don't, but I'm not going to rule it out, but I'm not going to waste their time either. If I meet a guy out in the world and we click but maybe don't "match" then it's one thing, but when I'm drawing names out of a hat, I don't have to go for the ones that aren't my ideal. I'm not desperate. Yet. Ha.

[Edit - Ok, I wrote this and let it sit in my drafts folder for like a week. And now I have multiple stories for you guys. Ok, only, like, two. But still! This is what happens when I let myself get behind.]

Stay tuned...

Tuesday, July 13, 2010



I don't know how I ended up browsing shelter kitties online but I found this one and I WANT IT. Isn't he adorable??

1. I have a very small apartment. It does not really have room for 2 cats.
2. I'm not even sure I'm allowed to have 2 cats in said apartment.
3. I'm not sure how well current kitty would do with a newcomer.
4. Cats are relatively cheap to maintain but I don't enjoy the idea of extra vet bills.
5. Crazy Cat Lady in training.
6. Mostly point #1 and #3. Everything else is probably workaroundable.

Still. I would totally give them cute names. Like a pair. Maybe Fred and Ginger (my current cat has lots of orange. Ginger. Get it. Haha.). Except their full names would totally be Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers because I think it's funny when cats have long names. or Bonnie & Clyde. Because my cat is a mischevious little bitch, she probably doesn't need a partner in crime. Or Lucy and Ricky. Because, you know. Red hair again. Anyway. This is too fun. I kind of just want to make a list. If I got another girl cat I would make a list of famous female duos and pick from there. I totally think they should have matching names. Because that is how I roll.

Anyway. Poor Fred Astaire is probably not going to get to come home with me but he's a gorgeous cat so I'm sure someone will adopt him. I'm sad though. I want to snuggle him.

Monday, July 12, 2010

I'm Kind of Embarrassed About Where This Post Ended Up

So, I just got back from Wal-Mart where I had to drop $15 on a new phone charger because I finally managed to leave it behind somewhere because I am brilliant. Which is to say, I left it plugged in to my sister's wall even though I kept reminding myself to toss it in my bag when I was done with it.

I also somehow managed to end up in the greeting card section (um, I don't know. It was on the way to the registers, I guess) and even though I managed to stifle my desire to buy new pens (PENS! GLORY!) I somehow left the store with four (4) cards that I purchased on the sole basis of me liking the design. I don't know if I have mentioned this, but I don't really design anymore. Which means... STOP ADDING TO YOUR INSPIRATION COLLECTION, DUMBASS. I guess I could just scan them in and then, you know, give them to people. Looky, problem solved.

I might stab the across-the-street neighbors. They are being loud and douchey. Or at least loud. Which in my world equals douchey, when it is someone else being loud and it annoys me.

So I was going to tell you about my weekend. Because that's what you do on Mondays. I think that's generally common practice, right? I know, I'm such a conformist.

Thursday night I ended up at work until about 11 (yes, PM) trying to get everything taken care of for a trade show and then of course taking a stab at getting things done that I pushed off during the week to GET the trade show stuff done. I didn't even really notice it had gotten that late because I was just going merrily along my way getting stuff done.


So, Friday I took off because I was going to go visit my sister but ducked in for about 2 hours to make sure the last minute things got done and because I really am that lame, and then I drove across the state and we went to an overpriced but delicious restaurant and then went to see Rent. You guys, it was awesome. I mean, I've obviously seen it before, but I was impressed. I was doubly impressed because this wasn't some quasi-professional touring group, it was a non-professional performance (one of the first of this show, according to the opening announcements), and it was awesome. Roger and Mark were spot-on... it was almost creepy. Maureen... holy shit, their Maureen was amazing. "Over the Moon" is pretty much my least favorite song/part of the show, but she made it hilarious and awesome. Joanne was decent, Angel was very good, Benny was good, Collins was.... well, okay. He was almost too quiet to hear sometimes, although his voice did bear a creepy resemblance to Jesse L. Martin... but Mimi? Mimi I was extremely underwhelmed with. I mean... I can't quite place my finger on it. Her voice was okay, she was stupidly skinny and could pull off the sexy dancing quite well, but... I wasn't feeling it. I felt it could have been casted much better. She brought zero chemistry to the stage. And maybe I'm just being overcritical, I don't know. Other than that, though, it was extremely well cast and executed and someday I will discuss my sheer love of Rent which I think I did once but never made it to the screen.

Anyway. It was awesome.

Saturday I literally did not change out of my pajamas, at all. It was great. We watched movies all day (finally saw The Hangover - I KNOW - and have decided that I would not be opposed to having Bradley Cooper's babies) and then were like, should we leave the house? Maybe we should go to a movie? So we pulled up movie listings and my sister was all "Let's go see Eclipse!" and I'm all "shucks, too bad, I haven't seen New Moon, I totes can't skip ahead" and this problem was apparently solved by my sister calling her husband who was already out and about and telling him to stop at Target and buy a copy. And then we played Mario Kart on the Wii.

So, yeah.

I must say... I am a big, big fan of Taylor Lautner's abs. I don't care if he's only 18. Also, I find Edward to be increasingly creepy-looking so I think I have landed on "Team Jacob" if I cared enough to assign myself to the ridiculousness.

Also, I felt really, really dirty that I PAID MONEY to go see Eclipse. I mean. Yeah. The things I do for my sister.

Also also, when in the holy fuck did matinee tickets start costing SEVEN DOLLARS? I mean, okay, you have to understand, in Iowa, matinee tickets have been around four dollars for the last ten years of my life, maybe five with price increases. Seven dollars is what you pay for an evening ticket. It's one of those things that is kind of a consolation bonus for, you know, being in the middle of nowhere.

What made it worse is that I had to fork over SEVEN DOLLARS to see ECLIPSE which is something that I am pretty sure has compromised my morals.

Anyway. We went to the movie. It was... well. It was what it was. That's all I'm going to say.

Actual scene, post-movie, as I finish my Dots and my sister sucks down the last of her Sprite:

Sister: "I wonder what the fourth one will hold."

Me, almost choking with laughter on my gumdrop: "Oh my GOD, it's cracked out."


Me: "Can I tell you? Please? I really want to tell you."

Sister: "No. I want to be surprised."

Me: *cackle*

I so desperately, desperately wanted to play what Cleolinda refers to as "Horrify the Twilight Noob" (scroll down) because, um, yeah.

I am actually quite excited for whenever they release Breaking Dawn because I really want to know how the hell they plan to turn this into a movie. I also would really like to know what Stephenie Meyer was on when she wrote it. Cause it was probably some good shit.


Last thought before moving on: I lol'd a lot in a scene where wereJacob bounces up a tree (shirtless, of course) into Bella's bedroom and after he lands is all, nonchalant. "hey." I swear there was even a subtle head nod. I had to pause the movie I was giggling so hard. My sister got annoyed. (this was in New Moon, obvs. With the pausing and such. Seriously, it's hilarious. Also.... my brother-in-law apparently did the boy-equivalent of a giggle throughout Eclipse, which made me sad that I was on the other side of my sister, because that would have been way fun. It's always more fun when you have a co-conspirator. Although I'm pretty sure it would have set me off with no recovery and then my sister wouldn't have spoken to either of us on the ride back.)


I don't know. Here's what I know. It's Monday and I'm tired and I passed out on my couch for four hours this evening and then had to drag my sorry ass off my couch to go buy a phone charger because it was on the brink of death and now I'm here and I guess I'll just go to bed now that my neighbors are finally quiet. Knock on wood.

How was your weekend, loves?

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Whine & Cheese Party

All these weddings I've been to lately (ok, there have only been two - but I'm still being bombarded by engagements and announcements and facebook albums and how is there even anyone left single out there after this blitzkrieg of matrimony) have kind of put me in, well, kind of a funk. A single girl's lament, really.

Because it starts to wear down on you, after a while, all this love and happiness and forever-afterness and all that other shit. It's downright fucking miserable, is what it is.

And I'm not trying to begrudge anyone's happiness or blah blah blah but dammit when the flying fuck is it going to be MY turn?

I'm not even asking for a mother-effing RING here, people. Just someone to spend time with, someone to kiss frequently, someone who thinks I'm pretty even when I'm a hot mess.

Not unreasonable.

And, okay, I get it. I'm not really putting myself out there.* But I'm not closed off to it, either. The longer this goes, the more married to my job I'll be, and then I'd just be a shitty workaholic girlfriend anyway. As opposed to, you know, now, when I'm just a shitty workaholic friend. (Sorry guys.)

*Let's be honest. There's not a whole lot of "there" to be put out into, around here.

I don't know. I'm lonely, I guess is what I'm saying. I don't really like to admit it, because I've got myself psyched up to be OKAY by myself. And I am. I really, truly am.

But not 100% of the time.

And whatever that remainder percentage is? It's getting harder to ignore.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Dancing Queen

You guys ever wondered what I look like when I dance?

(the word "dance" being used here very loosely, of course).

It's not pretty.

the only redeeming thing about this photo is that it makes me look thin-ish

You guys remember Ribbon Dancers? That's... all I can think of now.
[YouTube has failed me on the evidence front. I think there was a jingle, even.]

This was right before I realized, to my extreme horror, that I couldn't remember the Thriller dance.
I think it was performance anxiety. I remember it now.

I told you I thought this actually happened.

There. I have now voluntarily embarrassed myself on the Internet. I'm a real blogger now, right? haha.


Thursday, July 8, 2010

Warning: Accidental Filler

I feel like I've been repeating myself a lot lately, and I apologize for any excessive redundancy. It's not that I'm losing my mind, it's that I'm actually just not paying any attention to what I've already said. I don't always write linearly anymore... I'll write something and sit on it and before long I've got a jumbled mess of anachronistic snippets. It really only gets worse when I pre-schedule posts because once it goes live, I'll inevitably realize that what I've already said what I wanted to say... but in the future.

Anyone still with me? Great.

What I'm going to try to do here in the next intermittent bout of time, is get myself caught up... with myself. I'm going to type up all my handwritten drafts and clean up my drafts folder on here as well. I'll probably have to provide some sort of context for them since some of them go back for months. I can't focus right now knowing I've got such a backlog and all these things that I wanted to say are still... unsaid.

I didn't realize this was getting so out of hand until I was reading through my entries the other day... and there was a lot of "I thought I blogged this but didn't" and "oh, I thought this post was older than that... what?" and basically I've been dropping the ball. Which none of you care about probably except I'm an anal-retentive control freak and I need to have everything in order and this is ALL WRONG.

And this post had really no point to it whatsoever. Sorries. Promise I'll post something fun/interesting tomorrow.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

SparkleFest 2011

I'm not a Twilight fan.

I'm sure this has made itself clear just by my very lack of ever mentioning it, but I just had to reiterate. I have not read the books and I will admit to having seen and not hated the first movie, but most of the motivations therein were merely to make a mockery of the BLATANT ANGST that is this whole trainwreck of a pop-culture phenom. (Please don't send me hate mail.)

And this being a case of when "ignore it and it will just go away" is obviously ineffective, I am going to have to unfortunately perpetuate the cycle just a smidge in order to share with you some of the awesome that has become of all of this.

That said, I must relink to my 2009 post and point out how very much I love this blogger who has, not particularly by choice but she seems to have fun with it, become rather synonymous with writing about Twilight. ( She obviously writes about other things, too.)

Primarily: Twilight snark. Which I love. I love it so very, very much. I probably love it as much as Twilight fans love the source material.

If you have some time to spare, I recommend you read all of her recaps. They are HILARIOUS, like serious laugh-out-loud shit, and you better be prepared to blow a few hours reading through them all.

I'm going to repost them below, because I am nothing if not a giving and caring individual, plus I have some new links that need to be added as well.

You can thank me later.


Icelandic Viking Epic parody of Eclipse (no, I'm not kidding, and it's hilarious, but you probably need to read the recaps first. One must be familiar with the "source" material, of course).

Anyway. That's all I've got for now, kidlets. I can't explain this perverse pleasure I get out of mocking this series/mania, it's a sick, sick hobby, I can't help it.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Hold Your Applause....

GUYS. GOOGLE LIED TO ME. It says, like 308 posts when I log in but when I went to verify this, apparently it is INCLUDING MY DRAFTS. That's bullshit. So really I only have, like, 286 posts but that's okay, because now I can do my giveaway on my ACTUAL 300th post. So, just bear with me for another 14 posts or so and then the magic will happen.

Also: Never Trust the Internet.

EDIT: My toe is feeling much better today. I am confident that it is NOT, in fact, broken. I may even be able to wear real shoes tomorrow. Which is probably good. Because I gave myself blisters wearing flip-flops today. I rule.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Red, Black, and Blue

Yesterday was kind of a bust, holiday-wise. It basically rained all day which is probably the worst holiday for it to rain on, given that everything that one normally does on the 4th of July, is OUTSIDE.

I worked in the store for the majority of the day - the thought being, hey, the damn parade runs through main street, where we are, and we'll get a crapton of foot traffic. Brilliant! Yeah, except it rained, and while they still had the parade, and while there was still a fair amount of people that attended, as SOON as the parade was done, everyone just kind of fled. I have never seen a crowd disappear so quickly. We had a couple stragglers but otherwise it was deader than dead, and we sat in there for over two hours with no customers before we could finally close and leave.

Plus fireworks got postponed a week, which sort of bummed me out, because I was kind of looking forward to seeing them this year. They get shot off close to my house so I could have either sat outside and watched them, or walked the half a block to the park to see them.

Either way.

The POINT of this post is, of course, something else entirely.

Because I totally jacked up my toe last night and it hurts like a motherfucker.

A couple of my friends came over and we hung out last night and right before everyone left, I managed to catch my toe on the support peg or whatever the hell from my futon, and totally damaged one of my toes. I don't think I broke it, but it's really hard to say, because toes are kind of weird and stubby and I don't usually smush them. There was an instantaneous black line that was a blood-bruise that circled around my second-to-last toe on my right foot which of course prompted lots of swear words and pictures to Twitter.

After icing it for a bit, the black line turned red and looked bleedy without actually bleeding, but the bruised area kind of spread around the base of my toe. I'd been sitting at my computer so it just felt a little weird but when I actually got up again it hurt like a bitch if it hit the floor wrong when I walked. Awesome.

Anyway, it's less of a sharp pain today but it still hurts and feels really weird and I was really looking forward to TKD today because I need the workout but the extent of what I can do with a busted-up toe is pretty limited without causing severe pain or making it worse, so I might just have to go and watch.

Also, of course I have (crappy blackberry) pictures for you. I have really roundish toes, always have, so it may look more swollen than it is. I really can't say.


Guys, I think it's getting worse... or at least the bruising is spreading. Should I be worried about this? I think I'm going to self-diagnose it as a sprain and call it a day, and lord knows I've sprained fingers enough times back in my Athletic Days to know what that's like, but... the large bruise patch is mildly concerning me.... ? Am I being paranoid, as per usual? (probably).

Sunday, July 4, 2010


It is spelled "fuchsia" and not "fuschia" like I always wanted to keep making it be. I learned that a few months ago and forgot to share.

In case you find yourself faced with this particular dilemma, I've found the problem usually lies in putting those middle consonants in the right order. Just remember it starts with "fuch" which in my mind is pronounced like "fuck" which really means the word is saying:

"fuch you, you spelling-impaired asshole."

Acronyms are great, right?

You're welcome.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

(insert clever, relevant Spanish post title here, if I was even remotely able to come up with one)

Remember that really long blog post I wrote about my trip to Spain that nobody read* because it was really long? Anyway I wrote a really long blog post about my trip to Spain and I don't expect you to go read it unless you're, like, insanely bored (I mean, I thought it was interesting, but mostly because I got to skip down memory lane a bit). What I'll probably do, to sucker you all into actually reading it, is when I finally get my hands on my pictures**, repost it in chunks (small, readable chunks, ooooh ahhhh) and make a series of it. Whatever, you'll love it.

*Sorry, Stacey. You're totally somebody. I didn't mean it.

**OMG I totally still can't find these. I'm very distraught.

Anyway. I am mentioning this only because of two things that I would like to follow up on.

1. Seriously, go read the book I was talking about. It was fantastic.

2. That wasn't one of the things. Now my numbering system is off.

3. Conveniently coinciding with my itch to go travel, while we were at the bars a few weekends ago, my friend Steph was all, "we should got to Rome and I can show you all the awesome places from when I studied there" and I was all "fuck to the yes!" because that is extremely perfect. I mean, for starters, Italy, hello. For seconders, I would love love love to take a trip with my gfs, but especially since Steph has already been there, it will have some degree of structure and less of clueless-American-syndrome (which I would totally have). I wouldn't have the first idea where to go or what to do but going with a friend who's already been there is way more ideal, to me, than going with a tour group or something.

Anyway, it will probably be a while because money will need to be saved, and she's got a wedding to plan, but maybe in a couple years we'll have it sorted out and then it will be Squee-town from then on.

4. I successfully facebooked and found the boy I mentioned at the end. Curious? Too bad. You should have read it. No, I'm kidding. I'll repost that part. Since it won't really fit into my picture-posting trickery, since I don't really have any. BUT. I did find him, and sent him a friend request with some sort of "you probably don't remember me..." message (it was completely non-creepy and really very casual, in case you were wondering) and either he's pretty nondiscriminatory about facebook friends or he did remember me, anyway, he accepted my friend request and then I stalked and I guess he's in the navy right now (hawt) and naturally I had to poke through his pictures and he's still a rather good-looking individual. So, I dunno. If you were expecting some sort of "and then we reconnected and blah blah blah" it's not there, for starters, he's not geographically nearby, and also, meh. It's been eight years and a mere ten days acquaintence from when you were seventeen is hardly the basis for anything. Unless you live in a movie. Which I don't. Maybe if I can think of anything intelligent to say, I'll strike up a conversation, but it's nice to have that kind of come full circle and not be wondering where the hell he ended up or whatever. Not that I ever really thought about it much, but my going to Spain was kind of a big event for me and he was associated with it, so... there you have it.

So, technically, this post is ending here. So if you have other things to do and other blogs to visit or GOD FORBID some work to do, you may scurry along. I'm just going to paste in the relevant part of my novelette post in case you're wondering what the hell I'm talking about. Which you might be. Don't say I never gave you anything.

Now, here is where I weave in the part where I could have had a really great story but I'm socially retarded so I don't.

Our overall tour group consisted of the gaggle of us from my high school, a group from a high school in Pittsburgh, and three random middle-age ladies who were always late and wore stupid hats and didn't talk to the rest of us. In our group from Pittsburgh, who we came to be pretty good friends with, was a really cute boy who, much to the chagrin of the prettier, cooler girls in our group, I managed to catch the attention of. I don't even know how. At seventeen, I was completely idiotic with boys and didn't know how to flirt, but I was cute and thin and blonde and had just gotten my braces off (like, JUST. I was still wearing my retainer 24/7 during this trip) and I possess a pair of giant blue eyes and maybe it was my completely unassuming and probably slightly naive nature, but I managed to weasel my way in there and get his attention somehow. (And I have to say - the other girls were impressed. Maybe I wasn't a complete loser after all.) We sat together on some of the bus legs and on our ferry to Morocco, and we checked in at the airport at the same time, which resulted in my awesome baggage fiasco, which I'll get to later, but the part that I kick myself over to this very day, is the night we were all at the beach in Costa del Sol. It was our last night in Spain, and we were all hanging out down at the beach. Half of our group was out swimming under the moonlight, the rest of us were on the chairs surrounded by the glow of what must have been tiki torches, or lanterns, or something. It was almost surreal. He asks me if I wanted to go for a walk, which of course I did. Totally adorable and romantic, right? A boy from halfway across the country that I'd met halfway across the world, a day before we'd have to say goodbye forever, and he wanted to spend time with me. Except that I'm dumb and awkward and we made small talk and it was lame and boring and I probably sounded like an idiot and eventually we turned around and wandered back and why in the fucking fuck I didn't just grow a pair of balls and kiss him on the beach in Spain, standing barefoot under the stars, is a complete and total dark spot on my collection of memories. Stupid girl. To be fair, I was really shy and self-conscious at that time in my life, and I wanted him to kiss me, but it didn't happen and it was probably my fault for being shy and self-conscious, but there you have it. We rejoined the group and that was that. At the airport the next day, it was kind of bittersweet saying goodbye; our flight back to Minneapolis was the first to depart. We hugged our new friends farewell, knowing we'd likely never see them again. We collected what scattered email addresses we could, but there was very little communication afterwards, and then it died off. This was before facebook and social media and the hyperconnectivity that we have now. I hugged him last, and one of the last memories from my trip to Spain was of him waving goodbye to me.

I was thinking about that, earlier... well, I mean, I was thinking about all of this, obviously, which is why I started writing this post in the first place. And I couldn't help but wonder if I'd be able to find him somehow. I remember his name; I'd probably be able to recognize him by picture, assuming he hadn't changed too much. I did try to find him on facebook once a few years ago, to no avail. I have a couple of the girls from the trip in my friend collection, but I could never find the rest of them. This was before facebook was open to absolutely everyone, though, so maybe I'll try again. I wonder what became of him... where or if he went to college, if he's still in Pittsburgh, or if he even remembers me. And why should he? It was an almost-nothing, almost eight years ago. It could have made for a damn good story, but instead it's just a wistful memory.

The end, for real.