Ain' t That the Truth?

I've realized there are so many things that I have to do for myself that if I wasn't single I'm pretty sure there'd be someone around to help me with, if not do them for me. I'm not saying that women in relationships don't do these things for themselves, but I just HAVE to do them for myself. Does that make sense? Because I have to do all these things I'm stronger. Because I don't have the option of not doing them.

Like shoveling snow. I'm so over it. Put a pair of glasses on my face, a scarf around my neck and obscure band on my iPod because I AM OVER IT! The driveway at our house is super steep and EthanRayne (my lovely non 4 wheel drive vehicle) can't do even the slightest of hills in the snow. So I get home. I shovel myself in. This morning. I shovel myself out. Take that mother nature.

Do you know what else I have to do on my own? Deal with overflowing toilets. Yup. All on me. If I'm home alone and something goes wrong with the crummy downstairs toilet. I'm your girl. Bring it.

I also pick up my dogs shit.

I also go to EVERYTHING alone. Which can make me a leper at certain events. Don't worry ladies, I'm not trying to sleep with your man, I'm just trying to get through this event without getting so drunk I start crying. Which I'm getting pretty good at, a thank you!

And you know what? I have a love / hate relationship with all these things. Because someday being competent in the art of picking up dog poop and digging myself out of the driveway and unclogging a sink or setting up my DVD player (oh yeah, I do that on my own too) will make me an even better catch. I guess anyway...

But with everything in life there is one thing that gets to me more than others. One thing that twists my little heart. Which is silly because it's the tiniest thing. I can shovel snow and I'm fine. I can clean up toilet water and swing dog shit in a plastic bag while taking a nice little jaunt and I'm fine.

But the time when I'm like "damn, I'm so single and it stinks." is when I'm packing or unpacking my cooler. For road trips and country concerts. When I'm heading down the shore or going camping. I have to pack my own cooler. Buy the ice. Buy more ice. Empty the cold water and rinse it out when I get home. And that makes me feel even more single than I actually am.

It's usually the little things that bother you the most. Ain't that the truth.

Throw Back Thursday!!!!

I decided to get into this whole Throw Back Thursday idea in order to introduce some of my GEMS to new audiences. This below post was first done on May 6, 2011 and is definitely worth a read especially since we are heading into DoucheBag Season. Be on the look out ladies...



SIGNS OF A TELL TALE DOUCHE

The wink. Obviously invented when, about 500 years ago, there was a King of Somewhere who had a spazzum & instead of admitting the problem, played it off as his special way to get the ladies. And, being that he was a King, the ladies played along.

It doesn't work. It's creepy. You just quickly closed your one eye while sneering at me. Plus your neck is the same size as your head, lay off the 'roids.

Ok so last night my brother & I decided that we would go down to the Rattlesnake for a drink since it was, after all, Cinco de Mayo. (A holiday that we non-latino folks have grasped onto, if only for the drinking. I apologize.)

Anyway we ran into a bunch of my brother's old friends, we're hanging with them & I notice this not entirely unfortunate looking guy (even though his neck really was the same width as his head) working his way over to our little circle of conversation. When he was standing next to me I make the polite turn & smile. That's when it happened... he winked at me. Winked.

Excuse me? I'm sorry. What?

If that wasn't bad enough within 30 seconds of introducing himself he is talking about his high paying job & how he had the day off so he went golfing. "I was ready to head out this morning and my boss said 'why don't we lay low today?' That's all I needed to hear so I headed to the course to knock a few balls around."

Great story. Please tell it again. I think he followed that up with what kind of car he drives. It must not have been to impressive because I don't remember it, or his name for that matter.

When my brother returned from getting a drink & Captain D-bag had disappeared I asked "did you see...?" And my brother responded "Uhhhh yeah. I had to keep myself from laughing."

Why has it not gotten around to more men to keep the *wink* locked up?

It's not ok. Between you & my 75 year old uncle through marriage that grabs my butt during hugs, the uncle is less creeptastic.

I feel like I need to do the "creepy shake" mixed with a "not happy" raspberry. You know what I'm talking about... trying to get the cooties away. Blech!!!

So in honor of this attempt at my love, here are 10 Signs of the Tell Tale Douche.

1. The wink.

2. The mentioning of their paycheck within the first 5 minutes of the conversation. (Unless the conversation was based on occupation from the get go, then well give him a by.)

3. Wife beaters, Guiny T's, TANK TOPs, whatever you call them. If a guys is wearing one of these he is way to vain, especially if accompanied by any type of jewelry. Unless they're on the beach or doing yard work, run away.

4. If it looks like he spent more time on his hair than you, please rethink this conversation.

5. You go to the bathroom & come back to find him talking to another girl. Apparently you're bladder is less important than his penis.

6. Anyone who starts a conversation with "'Sup?" It's not even a real word. I use it when I'm pretending I'm a douche.

7. If it's Cinco de Mayo, ie: May 5th & they already have a tan (orange or otherwise) they're probably a captain or co-captain of Team Douche.

8. Shoes. If their sneakers look like they picked them up at footlocker about 10 minutes before coming out tonight, it means that if you accidentally brush one of them with your high heel (or in my case, Birkenstocks) they are going to flip the f**k out. This is from personal experience. Men are weird about their shoes in general, which is multiplied when douchiness is involved.

9. He mentions his "bro's" within the first 1 - 3 minutes and how they're ready to "rage" tonight. If his main purpose in the evening is to get wasted with his boys, good for him. I can't deny doing this very thing on numerous occasions with "the girls". But bragging about it... come on.

10. He starts talking to you but once your friend with 10 less pounds, bigger boobs, less clothing, etc, walks up he suddenly has a "change of heart", he is the king of Douche Bag Land & his ancestors probably invented... the wink.

DELETE

I put you out of what I am.
I don't think about you when I drive through town.
You don't jump into my mind when I see that truck.
I've erase the piece of you that became a piece of me.
It's like I'm clean.
But in truth, I'm still not sure I want to be.
I'm free of you, but not of myself.
I'm not sure what I'd prefer.
What I'd prefer is to never have had all of this.
To press "delete" on whatever this was. 

I Have a Problem...

Well I have several problems. The most probing being that I still try to booze like I'm 21. And most of the time I succeed, but I never succeed so much that I don't get sick. Gross.

This past Saturday was Morristown's St. Patrick's Day Celebration and it was definitely a shit show on my end. Holy mother of corned beef sandwiches.

I was probably completely loaded by approximately 2 PM. Which is impressive considering I started drinking at about 10:30 AM. The day itself is a complete blur of crazy times except for a few details.

I ran into a guy I know from my dad's golf club and my number ended up in his phone some how. So there's that.

There was something to do with a corned beef sandwich that fell and then I was extremely concerned with someone slipping on it. Apparently corned beef = banana peel? Who knew? But because I was so concerned with getting this out of the way I met this group of guys and proceeded to slap one of them. Well he knocked the corned beef sandwich back on the floor and that's dangerous! So apparently smacking him was the best option. Geeze Louise!

But we ended up hanging out with them all night. It turned out the one friend knew my friend Sarah so we became a little crew...

And guess what? They were all married. Leave it to me to hang out with a bunch of married dudes all day! They were super fun & for the first few hours everything was kosher but then as they got drunker 2 of them got handsier and handsier. It was out of control. Finally after the one tried to edge his hand up my leg and the other won awards for the amount of butt grabbing and neck nuzzling we decided to call it a night.

There was almost a tearful moment with Leslie on the phone in a bathroom stall where I went something like this "Why? Why are they doing this? They're so fun & they're making me lose faith in all men! Why can't we just hang out, why do they have to hit on us?" But luckily Leslie couldn't talk so I had to lock it up.

But why is it that I can completely act like myself and be a total catch in front of unavailable people? If I know you're available? I shrink up and become the Queen of Awkwardia! Ugh. Worst.

And what's even more sad and yet amazing? The one guy who I found the most attractive out of all of them? The one guy who was a total gentleman. Never inappropriate, but super nice and made sure that me and my friends were comfortable the whole night. Got us water. Let me steal his french fries. Nicest guy. And a true man & husband. Where ever you are Sir, huzzah!

I also JUST remembered that I ran into my CKO instructor on Saturday so that will be kind of hilarious at class tonight. AWESOME! I need to lock it up. 

Sibling Revelry

I realized this morning that I've talked about my parents on this piece but never about my brother and sister. Which is weird because even though I complain about her sassy ass and his prodigal son status, I really did hit the jack pot with my siblings.

So first there's my brother, who is the greatest catch in the known universe. Ok, maybe Ryan Gosling could give him a run for his money. But actually the more I think about it, the more he kind of reminds me of Ryan Gosling. Which makes me need to stop right NOW.

Ok so not only is my brother like the kindest most genuine person I know, he like legit doesn't gossip. He doesn't tell me things because he knows I have this huge mouth and when I try to gossip with him he's like "I really don't care." and in my mind I'm like "HOW COULD YOU NOT CARE THAT SO in SO is DOING SO in SO RIGHT AFTER BREAKING UP WITH SO in SO!?!?" Which is like unreal to me and makes me want to be a better person.

Which leads me to the next thing, he's a really good influence. He's super healthy, keeps himself really fit and eats pretty clean for the most part. Yes he still has beers and such but he's done with soda. DONE! who does that? I can make it like 2 weeks, tops without the fizzy delisciousness and then I'm done.

He also has his life, like totally together. I mean I know no one is perfect, but he's kind of close. Bought a house last year. Working for the same company for the past 10 + years all while furthering his education at NJIT. Does a different 5K, 10K, Tough Mudder ish thing every month. I mean really?

Finally, one of my favorite things about my brother is his sense of humor. I'm sure I get it more than others because we share the same DNA, but damn that boy can crack me up. It's like his comic timing is in his blood.

Anyway, I'm done gushing. He's just a caring and good person and I'm very lucky to call him MY brother.


Then there my little sister. We haven't always had the best relationship because we went through that phase where I put her in a box and then in the bathtub (what I was 8 years old) and then when she was a teenager I was a self righteous 20 something. But the thing is, I always knew, even if I had just called her a little bitch, she would have my back. She is one of the most loyal people I have ever met, to those she truly loves and cherishes. When I returned from Glasgow with some kind of big news that I was very nervous to tell my parents about I knew I could tell her and she would support me. I told her before mom and dad so that I could have that rock. In a lot of ways she is my rock because I know that I can count on her completely on an emotional level. Which is crazy important since I'm kind of a looney tune.

She's also kind of a genius with the book smarts. Like me, she could give or take science and math but she reads like a fiend. And everything you could think of. She's read ALL of the Lord of the Ring series and tones of super smart books that are probably too heavy for me, but also enjoys a good jaunt through Panem or Hogwarts. Which is kind of an awesome amount of well rounded-ness.

And I don't mean to brag but she's kind of an internet celebrity on the Tumblr.

But one of the coolest things about my little sister is how passionate she is about her beliefs. Now I adhere to the idea that woman's rights should be a given, but I hear rumor that not every one believes my lady bits are my own business, which is weird. My little sister is so informed on politics that involve woman's rights and speaks out about it no matter what the company. Which sometimes makes me cringe at first, but then I'm usually in awe of her. Because she is so educated, chances are she's about to shut you down.

So that's my brother and sister. And I cannot wait to celebrate my little sisters big 21st birthday in a few weeks. Especially since my brother will be there. Which is kind of awesome. I love that I have siblings that actually enjoy spending time with one another. Which is super luck. I'm a super lucky chick.

Now how about that, Mom. 

High School Called...

it wants it's broken heart back.

Wow. Wowsa. Wowsers. I haven't felt that way in a while. Damn.

A friend set me up with someone they work with. Just via text message. And when they did it, it didn't feel right. I was like "blerg, I guess so. Why not. Maybe it's not a good idea. Fine Ok!"

We never even got past the text messaging portion of the program because I realized a few things.

The first being that I'm totally into this friend. WORST! I realized it when I realized that this friend says I'm always mean to him. Which I attributed to that being just how I act with friends. I'm always busting chops. But when I really thought about it I realized it's because I can never have them. Which is sad day USA.

So all of this was Friday and I moved on with my life, happy as a clam. La di da. Having major plans to get over that and be nicer in general. It's not his fault I'm not his type, right?

So when we talked earlier today he told me about his new girl and how great she is. Fan-fucking-tastic. Then he was all "wanna see a picture." and on reflex I'm all "no."

I said yes a few seconds later, mainly because HELLO! dead give away.

But as he's talking about her saying that she isn't what I would expect him to be dating, she's curvy and all this stuff. I'm like... why? why do I  need this information? Why do you feel like I need to know your dating a girl that has the same body as me?

Further why earlier in the conversation did you have to crack a joke about how I not all guys can be such a catch as you?

What do you think I spend all my time pining away for you?

False, it's only been the past weekend when I realized I dig you with a big spoon. It's only been 3 days of pining. So get over yourself.

Anyway. The other reason we never got past a few texts is because this guy is sending me photos of his super heavy tattoos, telling me that they mean things like "No Forgiveness" and "Trust No One." Anyway. If this is like week 2 and I'm already seeing the type of person you are, then there are no red flags. Because I'm able to compute the negative aspect of those tattoos with who you used to be. But now, when we haven't even met yet? Now? You know what that says to me now?

Abort mission.

So I haven't responded to texts. I think I will let him down easy, since my friend told me that apparently he's sensitive. The last thing I need right now is sensitive. What I need is someone who will sweep me off my feet in his pick up truck and take me out to watch him tame a bull. If you know someone like that send them my way.

I offered my Janice's Boot Camp but that's about all I'm available for right now.

Who am I kidding? I can't be available for anyone else but me right now.

One thing that does make me happy... Turns out I can still feel that "tight, can't breath, don't know whats happening, ouch maybe that's my heart" feeling that you get when there's something you want but can't have. Which I haven't felt since High School. Or maybe College. At least since about 22.

Turns out I can still feel.

Beer is a Major Theme of March

I lied to all of you and I'm so upset that I did.

This morning when I got up my mom was in the upstairs bathroom so I  had to use the downstairs bathroom to evacuate my bladder and unfortunately that's where our scale lives.

I got on it. Which was such a mistake. I'm so sorry guys!

The number really doesn't matter to me. But it was an eye opener to see how much weight I've gained back since September. It's not a pretty sight. So I'm getting back on the work out and eat right train like crazy. With the exception of the weekends. I'm giving myself the weekends off. If I can work out I will but as far as eating great I can't go crazy.

Because beer is a major theme of March.

At least I'm honest I love beer.

March 2nd I head to PSU to do a bar crawl with Bridget & Kari, alumni of said University.

March 9th is Morristown St. Patrick's Day.

March 16th is my little sisters 21st Birthday in Jersey City.

March 23rd I'll be in WV so I can't make any promises they'll be beer involved but I'm like 64% sure.

March 30th I'm going to a craft beer festival in the city.

I think I love beer too much. Is that wrong? And if it is, I don't want to be right...