shirt off my back

it's the middle of the night on a thursday and i'm bored. so. here's a few tee shirts i would buy. i'm horrible at photo shop and all that crap, but you get the idea. if someone can make this happen i will worship you forever.

not the happiest place on earth

when i was a kid we took a family vacation to california for spring break one year. after driving down in the family oldsmobile, staying in the cheapest, shittiest motels all the way there, visiting every stupid marine corps site of former glory that my mothers husband felt the need to drag us to, one terrifying day south of the border in tijuana where i was SURE we were going to be stabbed to death, we finally got to visit disneyland- my first time EVER. the ONE good thing about the trip. i was so excited to have one good thing happen that i was almost able to ignore my horrible early 90’s home made shorts, badly damaged permed frizzball hair and blue plastic framed glasses. almost. we show up, i’m all excited, then we found out that every. single. section. was closed for repairs. apparently, the big spring break rush had been a week or so before and this was their chance to close things down for repairs and maintenance. what a fucking waste of time. i remember nothing about the park. i think we walked around for a while. i KNOW we didn’t go to any of the shops or places (my mum was way too cheap for that). i just have a picture of us all standing at the front gate and that’s it.

so. you know. i get disappointment. i get showing up to the park to find out the main attraction isn’t available.

that said: GUYS: YOU ARE FUCKING IDIOTS.

tuesday night the new guy and i were supposed to go out. he ended up not being able to make it (see the previous blog about how i just don’t understand all his responsibilities...this was another instance of that). he said he felt bad and would make it up to me the next night. well, the whole day goes by and i haven’t heard from him, so i texted him early in the evening to see what the plan was. he said to let him know when the spawns went to bed. works for me. so after the spawns are both down for the count i pop him a text to let him know the coast is clear, and, by the way, mother nature stopped by for a visit but it would be great to hang out and watch a movie. yeah. i spent the night on the couch reading. alone.

NOW. i get that mother nature is a huge freak out thing for many guys. (it’s not exactly the happiest event for us either guys.) YES. I’M TALKING ABOUT MY MENSTRUAL CYCLE. uncomfortable yet? set down the offerings of caffeine and midol and back away slowly.

one friend even asked me what the hell i was thinking telling the new guy about it outright. here’s what i was thinking: I KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO SHOW UP AND FIND OUT ALL THE RIDES ARE CLOSED. i’ve had guys get PISSED that they found out after the fact that the main attraction wasn’t available. i would rather be up front and say hey, the rides are closed, but you can still come hang out, see the sights, and who knows, maybe the management will open up a ride that’s generally not open to the public. you never know when an unexpected bonus like that might become available. that’s much better than showing up all excited to have your hopes and dreams dashed once you’ve already paid the fee to get in and spend the time disappointed and not able to even check about other options.

note to guys: just because aunt flo is in town does not mean that sexy time completely goes on hiatus. there are PLENTY of other things to do where you can avoid that whole section of the park (or not, depending on your opinion of things). second note to guys: YES, pms means that hormones are all over the charts. guess what? HORNY IS CONTROLLED BY HORMONES. and when hormones are boosted off the charts by pms...well...if you can’t figure out how that all works then maybe you should be allowed into the park anyway.

i’m not a bashful person (most of the time anyway). i have no problem being up front and honest about things. i am NOT the type to try to trick people or test them, ESPECIALLY when it comes to things like this. i’ve learned the hard way by accident and would rather not repeat the experience. i guess if a guy can’t handle me being up front and honest for one, and two: decides he would rather blow me off (read: no response at all) than roll the dice whether it really means a night of just hanging out or it ends up being a bonus night where the management is feeling generous, then you know what? i really could care less if he ever gets to visit the park again.

i’m going to go consume copious amounts of caffeine and midol now. call me when men learn how to grow a pair.

have patience...

ok kids. this is going to be a moment of truth: i’m in the process of learning about myself. it’s going to be confusing, it’s going to be awkward, and, as per usual, you get to come along for the ride. funny thing is that i don’t even know where to start on this one. there’s an old saying: if you hear something once, you can dismiss it. if you hear it twice you should consider it. if you hear it a third time, it must be true. well, i’m one step away from an ugly truth.

i’m not sure what i’m being told is the truth, but i know that the core issue behind it is a truth. let’s start at the beginning shall we?

the new boy and i had a fight a few weeks ago. yes, already. it got ugly. hell, it got fucking nasty. we were both angry and mean. at times i was flat out vicious. he accused me of not understanding that he had responsibilities and i was angry at him for accusing me of not understanding responsibility. how could someone say that _I_ don’t understand responsibility? are you fucking kidding me? that’s all my life has been for the last 13 year. it’s why i went to college. it’s why i stayed at the same job for 10 years. it’s why i rarely go out and never get drunk with friends or date just any random guy. i have a responsibility to provide a safe, stable home for my kids. DON’T FUCKING TELL ME I DON’T UNDERSTAND RESPONSIBILITY. yes, NOW, the last MONTH, ONE MONTH, i have less responsibility: i don’t have a 9-5. i don’t have to answer to anyone right now. but i’m still responsible. i still get up and take the spawns to school every morning (and go back and get them when i realize it’s a weekend). i still pick them up every evening and make sure they have everything the need (and more than a few things that are just wants). i’m still doing what’s best for them. i’m still making sure they’re provided for and taken care of. i’m taking great care to plan things out, make sure i’m making the best decisions for us. I AM STILL RESPONSIBLE..

then, again today, a second person told me i don’t get responsibilities. that i have to remember that when you have responsibilities it affects your schedule. to be fair, this wasn’t a separate incident. i was discussing the argument above to a friend and basically he was agreeing with the new guy. so. that’s two. TWO people telling me i don’t get responsibility.

obviously my knee jerk reaction is anger...you may have picked up on a bit of that. i want to scream out “IT’S NOT TRUE” and i want to prove everyone wrong.

BUT.

it is true.

well, it is and it isn’t. i get responsibility. i am a responsible person and parent. THAT part is wrong. the core issue behind it isn’t though. when you trace these statements back and figure out where they started they have a common theme: patience.

i am not a patient person. i’ve known this my whole life. it has never been one of my virtues. ask anyone that knows me if i’m a patient person and they’ll just laugh. now i’m not TERRIBLE. i’m not one to storm the receptionist desk if the doctor is running behind. i’m not one to leave people at home or when we’re out or anywhere because they’re not ready when i am. i’m not the person drumming my fingers during a card game because the other turns are taking too long. i’m not a toe tapper of a huffer or a pacer. i can entertain myself to pass time. i can wait patiently in traffic (most days) without yelling at the other drivers. i understand that things happen, schedules change, and 95% of the time i’m able to roll with the punches and not be concerned at all.

BUT. when it comes to things like buying furniture, I WANT IT TODAY. i don’t want to have to wait for it to be ordered and shipped from white plains, wisconsin. i want to put it in my car and take it home. NOW. when it comes to ordering things online i want it TOMORROW. i’m the person checking the fed ex “track your package” three times a day like it will make things move along faster. if i see a problem or know of someone having trouble i want to fix it NOW. part of this comes from my dad. he was the type to just solve things. whatever it took, it needed to be better NOW. throw money at it, do something, make it happen. NOW. solve it. make it go away. i suppose you could describe me as impulsive or impetuous. i always take time to think things through but when the decision is made IT’S GO TIME. once i’ve set my mind to something the response needs to be immediate.

SOME TIMES this is a good thing. i’m willing to jump right in and get my hands dirty. i’m willing to come up with a solution. i’m want to DO SOMETHING instead of just sitting around with my thumb up my ass.

sometimes, this is NOT a good thing. take for example the problem at hand: understanding responsibility or not. it actually tracks back to my problem with patience. in this situation, the boy and i were arguing about how long it had been since we were able to see each other. between work, kiddo, family, life, it’s hard for him to fit in time to get together. he is a dedicated father which is a GREAT THING. when he has his son, nothing gets in the way of that. it is something i greatly admire about him. however, it limits his time to be able to go out. i get it. i’ve done 13 years of this. i know that when it was me, i tried really hard to make time for things that were important to me. BUT there have been PLENTY of times over the years though that plans got cancelled or changed. it happens. here’s another one of my flaws: when it’s me i expect everyone to just go along with it. when it’s someone else, i tend to be...well...impatient and less forgiving. i want to think they should just *poof* make time. they should just make it happen. not be tired, not have obligations. i forget how hard it can be and how sometimes you just can’t. it’s the nature of it all.

if you’ve ever watched the movie “always” with richard dryfus and john goodman there’s one of my favorite quotes to describe relationships:

pete: “love. ain’t what it used to be.”

al: “theres only ever been two kinds. there’s flash fires that are all flame and burn out quickly leaving nothing. then there’s the long burn. that’s nature’s burn. even when you think it’s out the forest floor is still warm to the touch.”

i’ve always been a flash burn girl. hot, intense, burns out quickly and there really is nothing left. no friendships, no continued contact, NOTHING. it goes fast- talking constantly, texting, “hooking up” (yes, i just used that phrase), and then just as quick: BAM. done.

that lack of patience thing right there...

i want to see the new guy any time i can. i want to hear from him. i want to be around him. i want it NOW. i don’t want to wait a week to see him again. and i get frustrated when i don’t get my way. and it comes out in me picking a fight. pushing for more time. “not understanding responsibility.” no, i understand it, it just doesn’t fit into my little time table and it needs to be MY way. yes, i realize what a selfish, immature bitch i sound like in this moment.

well, it seems that the whole flash burn thing isn’t exactly the best way to have a lasting relationship. who knew? and here i am suddenly, with a long burn guy. he’s taking time, not in a hurry, willing to put up with me and my lack of patience and my temper tantrums (so far) and take some time with this thing. how do you go from being a flash burn girl to a long burn girl? i honestly don’t know. i try to think about it and get an instant migraine. i panic. i freak the fuck out. a few days go by and i think he’s lost interest and moved on. he cancels a evening and i think it’s because he’s found someone else. i’m REALLY terrible at this. flash burns i can handle. i know how to do short term. i know how to break things and push people away so that i know what went wrong and why it ended when the timer dings so i’m not left with a bag of questions. yes, i just admitted that. sabotage is MUCH preferred over the mysterious unknown.

so. here i am. faced with the reality of what i need to become if i want a successful relationship but no idea how to get there.

I AM NOT PATIENT. i know that. what i don’t know is how to change it. i do know that, like all things, change takes time. well, how do you think that sits with someone who wants things better NOW? vicious circle. ugh. i have a migraine and i don’t know where i’m going with this.

where do i go with this? how do i start to fix it? how do you switch from a flash burn to a long burn? any suggestions? does anyone know if there’s going to be a blue light special on patience any time soon? turns out i could use a little stocking up on that...

airing my dirty laundry-

let me start by saying this: i do not now, nor have i ever owned my own business. BUT, i’ve been a customer at plenty. and as such, i think i have a pretty good grasp of the way a business should work: DON’T insult your customers. DO what you reasonably can to keep them happy. doesn’t seem that difficult. apparently it is. VERY difficult.

here's a little hatorade for you: HAINSWORTH LAUNDRY: YOU CAN KISS MY ASS. i hope your business goes bankrupt, i hope you all end up in a dark alley being some big mans new girlfriend, and i hope you die in some poetic quarter related accident. (yes, quarters, as in the damn things i've had to get at the grocery store for the last few years to do my laundry).

i live in an apartment. i get that this means there are some things i sacrifice over owning my own home. one of these is having my own washer/dryer. instead we have A (yes, one) coin op in the shared basement. not only is it coin op, we still have to pay for the electricity for using it- yes, there are plug in’s labeled 1, 2, 3 for the respective apartments to plug the machines into while using them. let’s just say, i’ve been here almost 2 years and have never seen it plugged into any other outlet than mine for unit one. you’re welcome neighbors. whatever.

well. not only do we have to pay $1 to wash, $1 to dry AND for the electricity, the machines only hold HALF a standard load of laundry. ALSO? i believe they rolled off the assembly line in approximately 1970. excellent. they’re old, they hardly hold any clothes, i get charged up the ass to use them, and, final straw: they don’t clean the clothes. as in- AT ALL. they come out just as dirty as they go in. i’ve been going back and forth between this piracy and giving up one day a weekend to hit a laundromat when i get fed up with dirty clothes that have just been washed. i’ve called the business that runs the machines SEVERAL times, emailed them, everything. i’ve gotten the following responses:

1) “well, that’s what you get when you live in an apartment.” i’m sorry...WHAT? because i live in an apartment i’m suddenly a second class citizen and deserve the shittiest, oldest HALF load machine? what sort of fucking sense does that make? as a business, you have GUARANTEED business from apartments. doesn’t it make sense to keep the machines nice, modern, and actually CLEANING CLOTHES? then i won’t run off to a laundromat, YOU make more money, I’M happy. WIN-WIN.

2) “there’s nothing wrong with those machines, you must be doing your laundry wrong.” REALLY? you want to try to make me look like a fucking idiot that can’t do my own laundry? let’s see, i’ve been doing my own laundry plus my kids for...oh...15 years? but i’ve somehow been doing it wrong this whole time? because i’m that much of a fucking idiot? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? i’m sorry. you just made a BIG mistake.

after battling with this company for close to a year, getting no response from them, getting no backing from the property manager, i decided it was time to take control of the issue: I BOUGHT MY OWN WASHER/DRYER. now YES, this is a shared washer/dryer space. i realize the other tenants will be using the machines as well (especially if they’re GOOD machines that clean and don't cost a thing). i’m ok with that. i have 5 months left here- not that long in the scheme of things. i even bought the special soap to use with the machine because i don’t expect my neighbors to have to pony up and pay more AND i want the machine to work well so i’ll cover that cost. i get that there is a risk that they might be damaged by someone else, but i’d rather risk that than deal with the bullshit that i’ve been dealing with up til now.

so. tomorrow i’m going to go downstairs, disconnect the coin op ones, shove them off to the side with a nasty note attached and make room for a nice, shiny new set that will actually work. FUCK YOU shitty business that won’t lift a damn finger to keep your customers happy. FUCK YOU property management that won’t back their own tenants to try to correct the situation. FUCK YES to finally getting a good washer/dryer and finally having clean clothes again!

the company/property manager might throw a fit, but what are they going to do? kick me out? won’t hurt my feelings any- leaving in august anyway (if not before...house hunting is a whole different blog). maybe next time they’ll actually listen to the people that use the machines. maybe they’ll realize that shelling out a little to replace a 35+ year old machine will actually help make them money in the long run. maybe they’ll stop pissing off people that won’t sit back and take it.

either way: I’M GETTING A NEW WASHER/DRYER! and yes, this is a big event for me. shut it. ooo...and it has a “steam” setting....fancy.

one month slackiversary

ok kids. here it is. MY ONE MONTH SLACKIVERSARY!

yes. it’s true. i have officially been sitting on my ass for a full month. and my couch has the dent to prove it.

i haven’t done much. obviously i haven’t been writing. at all. i spent a good portion of time watching ugly betty from the beginning. all four seasons. i am now approximately half the intelligence i was a month ago. seriously! that show was a train wreck. i had to keep watching even though i loathed myself for doing so. more than once the following thought passed through my mind: WANT. TO. PUNCH. TV. it’s a good thing i was lazy enough to never actually move from my couch to do said punching. i like my tv. the horrible show wasn’t it’s fault!

so. besides getting caught up on terrible tv on netflix, what else have i done?

have i started working out like i vowed? not so much. have i started writing the books i want to get out of my head? not even a word. have i been in the classrooms at school? well, actually, YES. a bit. teaching an “exploratory” on fridays at the oldest sons school for an hour each friday. teaching a class full of 9-12 year olds crochet. yes, i am that stupid. dear god i hate other people’s children. now wait, that’s not fair. MOST of the class is ok/tolerable. it’s those other few though- oh those other few. and i feel bad because i recognize them- the socially awkward girl stuck in braces/glasses that thinks the stranger she acts the more people will pay attention to her and therefore like her...NOT SO MUCH HONEY. the boy who likes the girl but thinks being mean to her is a better idea. the “i’m too smart even for the smart school” girl that i want to punch in the face. BUT, i tell myself it’s only a few weeks, they’re learning something new, i’m in his school even if he’s not in my class, AND HE LIKES that i’m teaching a class. so. as long as he likes having me on the school grounds i guess it’s all ok.

i HAVE been reading. not quite the full month of it like i planned (stupid ugly betty!), but i have been reading. if you haven’t heard of kate furnival, go look her up and read her books NOW. historicalish novels based in russia at the fall of the romanov era- REALLY well written. the books of the bizzare (there’s two of them now) are fun and interesting to read through quickly. all sorts of facts you never knew you needed to know. LOVE them. did you know when an octopus gets stressed they will eat their own tentacles? see? things you need to know! nikki sixx biography: AMAZING. slash’s biography? OBNOXIOUS. made me want to punch him in his stupid top hat. shit my dad says? hilarious and well written. i hope they serve beer in hell? PEE YOUR PANTS funny. and obnoxious. makes you want to junk punch and jump tucker max’s bones all at the same time. full of the stupidest things any boy could ever think to do, the worst ways to EVER treat women, the most offensive references to women, having sex with them, ways to describe them, and i’m peeing my pants through all of it. now i HAVE to watch the movie. i have a stack of 14 more books to read and more being delivered by barnes and noble any day now. basically: don’t expect me to do anything real any time soon.

oh. and there’s boys. of course there’s boys. you didn’t think i would completely let you down did you?

where to start? biggest train wreck first? or the creepiest? then there’s the two that i promised i would never speak of. so. this is me not speaking of them. now you’re curious...right? too bad. i keep my promises. oh. and then there’s the worst of all: a good one. *sigh*

ok. creepiest first: guy popped up on plenty of fish via email. seemed mostly normal. emailed back and forth a few times, then he popped up on instant messenger (the site has it’s own messenger). this is all in the time span of about 20 minutes. so we’re instant messaging, he’s kinda getting my jokes, isn’t at all what i would seriously consider, but at the same time isn’t completely obnoxious. yet. out of the blue he’s all: I’M COMING TO SEE YOU. started asking which bar i wanted to meet at for a drink. umm...wow. run away freight train anyone? even better? HE LIVES IN TRICITIES. it’s 9 at night, i’ve been talking to him for about 30 minutes, the weather is SHIT, and he decided he wants to drive up to spokane to have a drink. we went from zero to FREAK ALERT in about 30 seconds. no, it wasn’t flattering, it was creepy. i kept trying to think of way to put him off, the roads are bad, i have to get up early for car pool, no, i really didn’t want to go out for a drink. or food. OR ANYTHING. but this guy just wasn’t getting it. allegedly (my crystal ball is on the fritz, so i didn’t actually SEE anything to prove it was true) he got into his rig and started heading this way. then he realized (allegedly) how bad the roads actually were, turned around, and emailed that he wasn’t coming but wanted to meet on the weekend at a bar in davenport that his friend owns. now. do i know if he actually got in his truck and started driving? no. could have been a big show to try to impress me (ummm...FAIL). could have been a bathroom break. no idea. but suffice to say, i was RELIEVED. would i have actually met up with him if he had come to town? scary to say, but yes. i have this odd guilt thing about shit like that. if he had spent 2.5 hours driving here in shit weather, i would have at least met him for a drink. in a VERY public place. with several friends (and the police) on standby. luckily that was the last i heard of him save a few follow up emails that weren’t returned. oh, and there was this whole bit about how he expected me to dress up for him (still not sure what he meant by that), the whole racist/homophobe comments he kept dropping, and the creepy way he kept saying he couldn’t wait to get me in his hot tub. ew.

guy #2: oh my. T.R.A.I.N. W.R.E.C.K. younger kid: mistake #1. he’s a 25ish punk kid that is every kind of messed up you can imagine. first, let’s start with his profile: two of his pictures are of him smoking, neither shows him in a particularly good mood. or even a recent lingering good mood. then there’s his catchy “about me”: Well i like all kinds of things. videogames, camping, traveling anything really. I am going to SCC to get my AA and then after that im going to move on to Eastern to do something with history.

wow. all those details. so much information. “all kinds of things.” what more does a girl need to know? oh just wait...HE HAS A SON. normally not a big deal until you hear the story: he knocked up his parents cleaning gal: “...she said she couldn’t get pregnant. or at least she hadn’t since her last kid who is 9.”

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? a girl with multiple kids, the youngest is 9 and she hasn’t gotten knocked up again, so suddenly she “can’t” get prego and you fall for it? and you reproduced from that shockingly shallow gene pool? thank you for lowering the future iq of america even further.

now. here’s the rest of the gory details: he’s 26, lives at home with his parents because he DOESN’T WANT TO WORK (i mean, he’s in college. work AND college are just too hard you know). not only does his live at home with his parents, he happened to mention that he sleeps on a mattress on the floor because it’s just not worth paying money for a bed. ooo...think of all the lucky girls that get dragged back to that patch of floor. he’s thought it would be cool to tell me that he’s been on plenty of fish for a while now and has contacted EVERY. SINGLE. GIRL. on the site. he goes for the shotgun effect: if he emails ALL of them, then at least SOME of them are bound to respond. seriously? that’s your dating philosophy? aim for them all and go for the ones that actually respond? oh.my.god.

just when you think it can’t get any better: he tells me about growing up. he was out on his own at 14 renting an apartment with his manager from wendy’s. ok- that kinda sucks. kinda start to feel bad for him. don’t worry, didn’t last long. right after that he launches into how that started him moving around to all different cities all the time. pattern went like this: abandon current apartment, move to a new city, live in a homeless shelter for a few weeks, hit up all the local charities for help, get a job, get an apartment (furnished by said charities), get tired of said city, abandon apartment, repeat.

some would find this resourceful and creative and hippie erotic. i find it a pathetic way to live, sucking resources from people who will actually use them to set up a REAL life, and a creepy way of probably hiding from more things than i want to know about. like this little jewel: he’s an excellent store robber. never been caught. he has a great gut instinct that lets him know when shits going to hit the fan so he can get out early. excellent. he’s the best convenience store robber in all the land. how could a girl possibly feel any more lucky? oh, but she can.

as if the illegitimate merry maid in training wasn’t enough, or the bouncing from homeless shelter to homeless shelter, OR the prolific robbery career, there’s also his magical way with words. “hey punk, send me some shower pictures.” how can a girl possibly resist that? “you need to bring me a sandwich and a blow job.” what the fucking fuck makes you think i would even piss on you if you were on fire, let alone get you a sandwich and a blow job? “what are you up to? i should slap you.” umm...how is this even remotely a conversation starter? do girls find the offer of getting slapped attractive?

just for shits and giggles (and because i knew it would be good writing material), we went out for a drink (i told you i had to see it in person). the bar closed early but he didn’t want to go home (oh yeah, did i mention? he doesn’t have a car, you have to drive to his parents house and pick him up for such a blessed event). i’m not quite through being entertained by this train wreck, so we try to figure out something to do. he wants to go to the strip club because he TOTALLY knows how to play all the strippers- i mean they’re just dumb bitches and he’s totally figured out their game. *PAUSE* strike 902 asshole. you’re not fooling anyone. i know several of those girls and i would NEVER, EVER, EVER expose them intentionally to an ass wipe like you. you are fucked in the head if you think you know how to “trick” them into anything. on behalf of all the darling girls that i know that are 900 times more brave than i am for working at the clubs and putting up with the assholes like you, GO TO FUCKING HELL for even thinking that way about them. *UNPAUSE* nope, wait, *PAUSE AGAIN* i want to junk punch your defective baby maker so hard that your tonsils are replaced with your balls and then run you over with my car 47 and half times for the way you talk about them. assholes like you should be branded on the forehead so the bouncers will recognize you on site and never let you near my girls. EVER. *UNPAUSE*

i politely decline the strip club suggestion and decide instead to take him to the castle. now. if you don’t know, the castle is an “adult mega store.” read: costco of sex toys. i have this theory that you’ll learn all you need to know about a guy by the way he acts in an adult store. you’ll find out what he makes fun of, how comfortable he is with himself, and possibly get a preview of the inner freak. THIS GUY: classic. awkwardly making fun of the different games. showing disgust at several of the toys (most of which i already have at home in my toybox), trying to impress me with all his high school sexual antics (so, i was at this party and was really smashed and all the bedrooms were filled, so i fucked a girl on the couch in front of everyone. umm...EW). like there weren’t already enough strikes against him from the whole night, and all the things he was making fun of, he had the gall, the fucked up audacity, to make fun of pin up girls. there were several books sitting out- vintage bettie page, suicide girls, other pin up models and pictures and he was talking about how stupid they were and how they’re not sexy at all. they’re boring to look at. i’m sorry, WHAT? might not seem like a big thing in the overall count of him splendidly striking out, but you’re talking to a girl that’s about to get a pin up girl tattooed on her body. i think they are GORGEOUS. the vintage girls are the most beautiful example of the way women SHOULD be- curvy, confident, and damn sexy- they made those old neck to knee swim suits look hotter than any micro bikini i’ve ever seen. *le sigh* so. we have: making fun of sex toys that i own, making fun of one of the things i find stunningly sexy, AND bragging about possibly the most degrading sexcapade i’ve ever heard of. yup. i think i learned PLENTY from this trip. THAT will never get near me. EVER.

from the atomic cheesecake studios

all for you kids. well, partly because there’s nothing like seeing a good train wreck in person, but more because there’s nothing like being able to share that train wreck later with other people.

now. the other boy. um. well. let’s put it this way, my darling friend across the mountains has yet to miss a prediction about the men i meet. he NAILS IT every single time. knows exactly how the train wreck is going to happen, when, and where. he has yet to make i mistake or incorrectly predict the male flight patterns in and out of my life. his prediction on this one? i believe it went something like this: “he’s in it for the long haul.”

even typing that made me take an hour long break. not even kidding. wow. “long haul” what the eff is that?

i don’t even know what to make of that. i mean. long haul? strange thing is, i can kinda see it. and i think i’m kinda ready for it. especially after the last year- it would be nice to have some semblance of belonging again. and yes, i realize that’s not a reason to...whatever...long haul it with someone, but it’s something. it’s a start.

wow. mood swing much? i blame netflix. went from a comedy to a dramedy. totally changed the blog. sorry kids. shouldn’t write and watch at the same time. anytwaddle. it’s time to get back to my busy schedule of nothing. SOMEONE has to be a professional slacker and today that someone is ME. so. happy one month slackiversary!