This is a safe place right?
I mean you guys would never tell my secrets would you?
Ok.
Redneck is deeply ingrained in my genes. Its a part of who I am that Ive been suppressing for a long time.
And by 'long time' I really mean 'my whole life'.
I was born and raised in the country and I HATED IT.
Then I met The Redneck and 37 of his closest friends.
Hes gentlemanly, hes fun, hes smart.
He is Young.
They are all young. Ive been nicknamed G which is short for Grandma.
They are always together, always having fun, doing something crazy, and usually drinking.
My poor liver cant handle all that.
But Ive very suddenly become incorporated into the group and specifically recognized as coming as a package deal with The Redneck.
And Ive been reconnecting with my redneck roots.... and enjoying it.
I'm a 4inch heels out on the town kinda girl, or a bikini at the beach kind of girl. I'm not a 4 wheeler riding, bonfire starting, cheap beer drinking, tinkering in the garage kind of girl.
But I'm dabbling in it right now.
And its FUN.
Even more than being fun, its EASY.
This is not my forever, and The Redneck probably isn't the man of my dreams but, damn am I having a good time.
p.s. I quit smoking on Sunday. Wooo!
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Dating Fails Part 3
Sorry for the delay on this one folks.
Saint Patricks day and the days following proved to be a bit more eventful than anticipated.
But thats a whole different post altogether.
I promised you the story of StalkerFace and it was pretty epic so here we go....
A little information going into the story, I dont like to date men I find physically intimidating. I dont care how nice you seem, if I dont think theres a chance of me holding my own in a fight then we arnt going out.
That said, I got set up with StalkerFace. He seemed.... ok but I was pretty sure that wouldnt go beyond a first date.
He was big. Not Fat.
Just BIG.
His upper arms were perhaps the size of my thighs.
Big.
The date was alright, nothing horrible happened.
Until the drive home.
We made a stop at the gas station to fill up and when he ran in to pay for gas I was watching from the car.
And from the car I watched him buy a pack of condoms from behind the counter.
My mouth dropped open.
"Well he obviously thinks this date is going a lot better than I do." I said aloud to no one but myself.
When he got back in the car they were in his pocket and I was on edge.
I dont know him well.
He thinks hes getting laid. If I say No and he doesnt like it, I sure cant stop him.
I fidgeted in my seat the rest of the drive and when we pulled up in front of my place I basically shot like a bullet out of the car with the promise to call him trailing behind me as I made a beeline for the front door.
It was a lie.
I wasnt calling him.
A few days and a few ignored phone calls later, I went out dancing with some friends.
At 2am I was walking back to my car with a girlfriend and as we were coming up the street I saw someone standing outside my car.
I slowed my pace and quietly pointed out the "stranger danger" to my friend.
But the car was parked on the street, and the person was standing on the sidewalk and well, people are allowed to stand where ever they want. But we moved in slowly with keys and phone ready.
When we got within about 5 feet, I saw it was StalkerFace. I was stunned. I didnt have the opportunity to say anything before he started in.
"You havent called me back." He stated.
And fat chance of that ever happening now I thought.
"uhhhh...." This was so wrong I didnt know what to say.
"I thought we had a good time. Why didnt you call?" He asked.
I shook off the surprise finally.
"What are you DOING HERE?" I demanded. "How did you know where I was?"
"I saw it online"
Online? ONLINE? Oh shit, social networking. He stalked me on the internet and found where we were talking about going out.
"This is so INAPPROPRIATE!" I yelled as we got in the car as fast as we could and took off.
Thats the end of StalkerFace right?
Not likely.
They never give up that easily.
It only took a few days to hear from StalkerFace again.
I was home alone one night around 3am and I heard pounding on the door.
Incessant pounding.
I weighed my options quickly.
It could be a serial killer. But they dont normally knock right?
It could be my elusive roommate who has locked himself out. Thats sort of logical.
It could be someone in desperate need of help. This is a bad neighborhood.
Well I did a quick "Dear God, Im sorry for doing shitty stuff. Please dont be mad." Just in case it was the serial killer, picked up my baseball bat and headed for the door.
StalkerFace.... COME ON. Really?
I called the police and asked them to please swing by. Maybe not an emergency but their help would be appreciated. Hes a big guy remember?
At this point I'm not even scared. Im just LIVID.
I flung the door open.
"WHAT THE FU....." I managed to get out before he started in on his drunken tirade.
"YOU FUCKING BITCH! YOU SLUT! IM GOING TO TELL EVERYONE WHAT A BITCH YOU ARE. IM GOING TO TELL YOUR MOM WHAT KIND OF PERSON YOU ARE AND WHAT A WHORE YOU ARE!"
You get the idea.
Heres the thing. I might be a bitch, Im not arguing that.
The slut thing is a matter of opinion.
I didnt sleep with you so you dont even get to have an opinion.
But you leave my mom out of this.
And furthermore, my mom knows EXACTLY what kind of person I am. Bitchy slutty behavior and all.
"If you dont get off my front steps I am going to take out your knee caps with this baseball bat" I said very slowly.
He stopped yelling.
"What did you say to me?" he asked
"I said, you have 5 seconds to make it to the street before I break your knee caps with this bat." I repeated just as slowly as before.
"YOU CANT DO THAT! I'LL CALL THE POLICE!" He started bellowing
"I can, and I will." I replied. "And the police are on their way already."
Their ears must have been ringing because right at that moment the police pulled up. It was fairly obvious that he was drunk. And belligerent. And threatening.
The police carted him off, and suggested I file for a restraining order.
Which I did, the very next day..
I never heard from him again.
Saint Patricks day and the days following proved to be a bit more eventful than anticipated.
But thats a whole different post altogether.
I promised you the story of StalkerFace and it was pretty epic so here we go....
A little information going into the story, I dont like to date men I find physically intimidating. I dont care how nice you seem, if I dont think theres a chance of me holding my own in a fight then we arnt going out.
That said, I got set up with StalkerFace. He seemed.... ok but I was pretty sure that wouldnt go beyond a first date.
He was big. Not Fat.
Just BIG.
His upper arms were perhaps the size of my thighs.
Big.
The date was alright, nothing horrible happened.
Until the drive home.
We made a stop at the gas station to fill up and when he ran in to pay for gas I was watching from the car.
And from the car I watched him buy a pack of condoms from behind the counter.
My mouth dropped open.
"Well he obviously thinks this date is going a lot better than I do." I said aloud to no one but myself.
When he got back in the car they were in his pocket and I was on edge.
I dont know him well.
He thinks hes getting laid. If I say No and he doesnt like it, I sure cant stop him.
I fidgeted in my seat the rest of the drive and when we pulled up in front of my place I basically shot like a bullet out of the car with the promise to call him trailing behind me as I made a beeline for the front door.
It was a lie.
I wasnt calling him.
A few days and a few ignored phone calls later, I went out dancing with some friends.
At 2am I was walking back to my car with a girlfriend and as we were coming up the street I saw someone standing outside my car.
I slowed my pace and quietly pointed out the "stranger danger" to my friend.
But the car was parked on the street, and the person was standing on the sidewalk and well, people are allowed to stand where ever they want. But we moved in slowly with keys and phone ready.
When we got within about 5 feet, I saw it was StalkerFace. I was stunned. I didnt have the opportunity to say anything before he started in.
"You havent called me back." He stated.
And fat chance of that ever happening now I thought.
"uhhhh...." This was so wrong I didnt know what to say.
"I thought we had a good time. Why didnt you call?" He asked.
I shook off the surprise finally.
"What are you DOING HERE?" I demanded. "How did you know where I was?"
"I saw it online"
Online? ONLINE? Oh shit, social networking. He stalked me on the internet and found where we were talking about going out.
"This is so INAPPROPRIATE!" I yelled as we got in the car as fast as we could and took off.
Thats the end of StalkerFace right?
Not likely.
They never give up that easily.
It only took a few days to hear from StalkerFace again.
I was home alone one night around 3am and I heard pounding on the door.
Incessant pounding.
I weighed my options quickly.
It could be a serial killer. But they dont normally knock right?
It could be my elusive roommate who has locked himself out. Thats sort of logical.
It could be someone in desperate need of help. This is a bad neighborhood.
Well I did a quick "Dear God, Im sorry for doing shitty stuff. Please dont be mad." Just in case it was the serial killer, picked up my baseball bat and headed for the door.
StalkerFace.... COME ON. Really?
I called the police and asked them to please swing by. Maybe not an emergency but their help would be appreciated. Hes a big guy remember?
At this point I'm not even scared. Im just LIVID.
I flung the door open.
"WHAT THE FU....." I managed to get out before he started in on his drunken tirade.
"YOU FUCKING BITCH! YOU SLUT! IM GOING TO TELL EVERYONE WHAT A BITCH YOU ARE. IM GOING TO TELL YOUR MOM WHAT KIND OF PERSON YOU ARE AND WHAT A WHORE YOU ARE!"
You get the idea.
Heres the thing. I might be a bitch, Im not arguing that.
The slut thing is a matter of opinion.
I didnt sleep with you so you dont even get to have an opinion.
But you leave my mom out of this.
And furthermore, my mom knows EXACTLY what kind of person I am. Bitchy slutty behavior and all.
"If you dont get off my front steps I am going to take out your knee caps with this baseball bat" I said very slowly.
He stopped yelling.
"What did you say to me?" he asked
"I said, you have 5 seconds to make it to the street before I break your knee caps with this bat." I repeated just as slowly as before.
"YOU CANT DO THAT! I'LL CALL THE POLICE!" He started bellowing
"I can, and I will." I replied. "And the police are on their way already."
Their ears must have been ringing because right at that moment the police pulled up. It was fairly obvious that he was drunk. And belligerent. And threatening.
The police carted him off, and suggested I file for a restraining order.
Which I did, the very next day..
I never heard from him again.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Dating Fails Part 2
This was perhaps the largest "Facepalm" situation Ive ever been in and I remember it so vividly its like it happened yesterday.
Welcome to the desperate delusions of John Clam.
I shouldn't have really accepted considering I was pretty sure we had nothing in common. But alas, I was kind of guilted into it by the mutual friend who had introduced us so I relented and we went out.
It was painfully uneventful.
And I do mean painfully.
He was dull.
And pretty awkward.
In the car on the way home he asked if he could take me out again.
"Uh... I don't think so." I replied trying to be as nice as possible. He wasn't a bad guy it seemed. Just.... really boring.
He called a few days later and tried again, and again I nicely declined.
"I think it would be a waste of time on both our parts." I remember explaining to him.
I thought that was the end of it.
It wasn't.
A couple weeks later he called again and things got interesting...
"Hello?" I answered, confused about why he would still be calling.
"I have a sore on my lip" He said immediately.
"Um... I'm sorry? A cold sore or something?" I was more confused now.
I really don't care about any of his ailments and I haven't the faintest idea why he thinks I would.
"And my throat hurts." He continued.
"Soooo.... like strep throat or something?" I asked. I didn't know what was going on at all.
"I think you gave me chlamydia." It just fell out of his mouth.
My pulse quickened. I griped the phone tighter. He thinks I did what? He thinks I HAVE WHAT?! How insulting! I don't have an STD! I felt like shrieking it into the phone.
"Hello? Are you there?" He asked.
My head was still spinning. Chlamydia? Really? Did I hear that right?
I cleared my throat.
"Excuse me. Did you just say... Chlamydia?"
"Yes" He answered matter of factly.
My friends were sitting around me now listening intently since hearing mention of a sexually transmitted disease.
Great, now a whole room of people thinks I'm diseased. Great.
"Uh... I don't have Chlamydia." I stammered, head still spinning.
"And... and... we didn't have sex!" I'm starting to get that hysterical tone about my voice and I'm not thinking clearly.
Oh man, my friends have beer and popcorn now. They are loving this. Better than a movie I'm sure.
"We didn't even kiss! Or touch at all! And.. I DON'T HAVE CHLAMYDIA!" I was in full on hysterics now.
"And furthermore, those arnt even symptoms of Chlamydia! Or any other STD!" I'm not even sure about that completely. I just know that I don't have an STD and I couldn't have possibly given him one even if I did.
He has got to be out of his mind
"You are completely psychotic! What are you thinking!" I'm flat out yelling into the phone now waving my hands around in front of me.
Are my friends laughing? Yes... yes they are openly laughing at me.
"WELL SAY SOMETHING!" I yelled.
I heard nothing....
"WELL!?" I shrieked
"We shared a fork during dessert." He finally said.
"A Fork!?" I screamed "You cant catch a sexually transmitted disease from a fork! That's why its called SEXUALLY transmitted. You have to have sex! BODILY FLUIDS MUST BE EXCHANGED!"
My friends are on the floor rolling around in hysterical laughter and the words "bodily fluids" send them over the edge. I think someone might wet themselves.
At this point I cant even believe I'm having to explain and rationalize this to another adult.
I took a deep breath. "I think you need to go to the doctor." I said.
Theres no way I can convince him but I'm sure a doctor can.
"Oh I will and I'll be calling you back." He said with attitude in his voice. Attitude? Ridiculous.
"Great!" I yelled before snapping the phone shut.
I looked around. Everyone had frozen and was looking at me. Stupid grins plastered on their faces.
"SHUT IT!" I yelled as I stomped out of the room. I heard everyone behind me collapse again into fits of giggles.
He did call back a week later. He made no mention of going to the doctor but he did ask me out again.
Right.
Tomorrow we have the story of a stalker and a baseball bat.
Welcome to the desperate delusions of John Clam.
I shouldn't have really accepted considering I was pretty sure we had nothing in common. But alas, I was kind of guilted into it by the mutual friend who had introduced us so I relented and we went out.
It was painfully uneventful.
And I do mean painfully.
He was dull.
And pretty awkward.
In the car on the way home he asked if he could take me out again.
"Uh... I don't think so." I replied trying to be as nice as possible. He wasn't a bad guy it seemed. Just.... really boring.
He called a few days later and tried again, and again I nicely declined.
"I think it would be a waste of time on both our parts." I remember explaining to him.
I thought that was the end of it.
It wasn't.
A couple weeks later he called again and things got interesting...
"Hello?" I answered, confused about why he would still be calling.
"I have a sore on my lip" He said immediately.
"Um... I'm sorry? A cold sore or something?" I was more confused now.
I really don't care about any of his ailments and I haven't the faintest idea why he thinks I would.
"And my throat hurts." He continued.
"Soooo.... like strep throat or something?" I asked. I didn't know what was going on at all.
"I think you gave me chlamydia." It just fell out of his mouth.
My pulse quickened. I griped the phone tighter. He thinks I did what? He thinks I HAVE WHAT?! How insulting! I don't have an STD! I felt like shrieking it into the phone.
"Hello? Are you there?" He asked.
My head was still spinning. Chlamydia? Really? Did I hear that right?
I cleared my throat.
"Excuse me. Did you just say... Chlamydia?"
"Yes" He answered matter of factly.
My friends were sitting around me now listening intently since hearing mention of a sexually transmitted disease.
Great, now a whole room of people thinks I'm diseased. Great.
"Uh... I don't have Chlamydia." I stammered, head still spinning.
"And... and... we didn't have sex!" I'm starting to get that hysterical tone about my voice and I'm not thinking clearly.
Oh man, my friends have beer and popcorn now. They are loving this. Better than a movie I'm sure.
"We didn't even kiss! Or touch at all! And.. I DON'T HAVE CHLAMYDIA!" I was in full on hysterics now.
"And furthermore, those arnt even symptoms of Chlamydia! Or any other STD!" I'm not even sure about that completely. I just know that I don't have an STD and I couldn't have possibly given him one even if I did.
He has got to be out of his mind
"You are completely psychotic! What are you thinking!" I'm flat out yelling into the phone now waving my hands around in front of me.
Are my friends laughing? Yes... yes they are openly laughing at me.
"WELL SAY SOMETHING!" I yelled.
I heard nothing....
"WELL!?" I shrieked
"We shared a fork during dessert." He finally said.
"A Fork!?" I screamed "You cant catch a sexually transmitted disease from a fork! That's why its called SEXUALLY transmitted. You have to have sex! BODILY FLUIDS MUST BE EXCHANGED!"
My friends are on the floor rolling around in hysterical laughter and the words "bodily fluids" send them over the edge. I think someone might wet themselves.
At this point I cant even believe I'm having to explain and rationalize this to another adult.
I took a deep breath. "I think you need to go to the doctor." I said.
Theres no way I can convince him but I'm sure a doctor can.
"Oh I will and I'll be calling you back." He said with attitude in his voice. Attitude? Ridiculous.
"Great!" I yelled before snapping the phone shut.
I looked around. Everyone had frozen and was looking at me. Stupid grins plastered on their faces.
"SHUT IT!" I yelled as I stomped out of the room. I heard everyone behind me collapse again into fits of giggles.
He did call back a week later. He made no mention of going to the doctor but he did ask me out again.
Right.
Tomorrow we have the story of a stalker and a baseball bat.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Dating Fails Part 1
I've been a serial dater in my adult life.
I spent 6 months surviving almost completely on free dinners provided by dates when I was poor.
Its not intentional. I'm not a "player". I like meeting new people. I think it can be fun when it isn't taken too seriously. You could make new friends and every so often you stumble across someone worth spending time with.
You also stumble across stalkers.
Lets spend a few days reviewing some of the dating disaster highlights from my past!
Momma's Boy
A personal favorite as far as dating train wreaks go. I don't remember how we met but he asked me out and I agreed. Like a gentleman, he came to pick me up to take me out. In the car we made some small talk before he informed me that he wanted to stop and introduce me to his mom.
*squealing brakes*
Did you just say I'm meeting your mom?
Well.... ok.... That seems a little weird...
But that cant go too badly right?
Wrong.
Let me paint a picture for you....
We pulled up in front of a small one story non-descript house in an older neighborhood. Nothing special about it. Maybe it was a tad run down?
He knocked and opened the front door and immediately the smell of Cat pee PUNCHED me in the face. My eyes bulged, I threw up a little in my mouth, my lungs begged me not to enter, but I shook it off, quickly regained my composure, and followed him in....
Into one of the largest most disgusting HOARDS Ive ever seen. There were boxes stacked higher than me on each side, old mail and newspapers stuffed into the spaces between boxes, cats scampering back and forth between our legs, one path through the house, and the air was visibly full of.... what is that? Dust? Cat hair? Dander?
I tried to breath as little as possible.
Then we found his mom. And I do mean "found". Like "unearthed". Sitting in a chair surrounded by, trash? Wearing a housecoat/mu mu/ugly curtain, she was holding two cats in her lap, if you could call it a lap because she was big. I mean large. I mean, I'm surprised the chair was holding her up.
Sorry. The truth is ugly.
So I was introduced. I had a moment of panic at the thought of sticking my hand out which had up until now, been shoved deeply into my pocket. No need to worry though because she didn't even look up at me before immediately starting the meanest, most scary interrogation process Ive ever encountered.
Who was I? What were my intentions with her son? Why were we going out on a weeknight? Respectable girls don't go out on weeknights. Was this a date? Her son didn't need to be dating. Who wears JEANS on a date? On and on....
Momma's Boy stood there grinning the whole time as though he was either highly entertained by this all, or saw no problem with any of it. I was shifting back and forth trying to be as nice as possible even though this woman in front of me had no intention of being nice to me at all. I couldn't talk without breathing and I was starting to get more and more panicky about the filth all around me. Eventually Momma's Boy decided it was time to go and said his goodbyes.
"Nice to meet you" I mumbled as I turned to follow Momma's Boy through the same path that had lead us into this hell hole. As soon as the latch clicked behind us I was bent over that the waist, hands on my knees, heaving and gasping for any bit of fresh air I could force into my lungs. Momma's Boy seemed oblivious and had continued walking toward the car.
Was this a joke?
I made my way to the car behind him and got in the passenger seat.
"So where do you want to go for dinner?" Momma's Boy asked.
"I think.... I'm not feeling well." I stammered. It wasn't a complete lie. "I think I need to go home...."
"Oh...." He said, defeated.
We drove to my apartment in silence. When we parked I simply patted his hand and exited the car. I had no words.
I ran up the stairs and burst through the door of my apartment.
"That was fast..." My roommate had just enough time to get out before he stared in wide eyed confusion as I began to disrobe just inside the door down to my under roos and ran for the shower. I washed everything at least 3 times, considered burning the clothes, and collapsed onto the couch to tell my roommate the whole story.
I never answered Momma's Boys phone calls again.
Tune in next time to learn all about Chlamydia
I spent 6 months surviving almost completely on free dinners provided by dates when I was poor.
Its not intentional. I'm not a "player". I like meeting new people. I think it can be fun when it isn't taken too seriously. You could make new friends and every so often you stumble across someone worth spending time with.
You also stumble across stalkers.
Lets spend a few days reviewing some of the dating disaster highlights from my past!
Momma's Boy
A personal favorite as far as dating train wreaks go. I don't remember how we met but he asked me out and I agreed. Like a gentleman, he came to pick me up to take me out. In the car we made some small talk before he informed me that he wanted to stop and introduce me to his mom.
*squealing brakes*
Did you just say I'm meeting your mom?
Well.... ok.... That seems a little weird...
But that cant go too badly right?
Wrong.
Let me paint a picture for you....
We pulled up in front of a small one story non-descript house in an older neighborhood. Nothing special about it. Maybe it was a tad run down?
He knocked and opened the front door and immediately the smell of Cat pee PUNCHED me in the face. My eyes bulged, I threw up a little in my mouth, my lungs begged me not to enter, but I shook it off, quickly regained my composure, and followed him in....
Into one of the largest most disgusting HOARDS Ive ever seen. There were boxes stacked higher than me on each side, old mail and newspapers stuffed into the spaces between boxes, cats scampering back and forth between our legs, one path through the house, and the air was visibly full of.... what is that? Dust? Cat hair? Dander?
I tried to breath as little as possible.
Then we found his mom. And I do mean "found". Like "unearthed". Sitting in a chair surrounded by, trash? Wearing a housecoat/mu mu/ugly curtain, she was holding two cats in her lap, if you could call it a lap because she was big. I mean large. I mean, I'm surprised the chair was holding her up.
Sorry. The truth is ugly.
So I was introduced. I had a moment of panic at the thought of sticking my hand out which had up until now, been shoved deeply into my pocket. No need to worry though because she didn't even look up at me before immediately starting the meanest, most scary interrogation process Ive ever encountered.
Who was I? What were my intentions with her son? Why were we going out on a weeknight? Respectable girls don't go out on weeknights. Was this a date? Her son didn't need to be dating. Who wears JEANS on a date? On and on....
Momma's Boy stood there grinning the whole time as though he was either highly entertained by this all, or saw no problem with any of it. I was shifting back and forth trying to be as nice as possible even though this woman in front of me had no intention of being nice to me at all. I couldn't talk without breathing and I was starting to get more and more panicky about the filth all around me. Eventually Momma's Boy decided it was time to go and said his goodbyes.
"Nice to meet you" I mumbled as I turned to follow Momma's Boy through the same path that had lead us into this hell hole. As soon as the latch clicked behind us I was bent over that the waist, hands on my knees, heaving and gasping for any bit of fresh air I could force into my lungs. Momma's Boy seemed oblivious and had continued walking toward the car.
Was this a joke?
I made my way to the car behind him and got in the passenger seat.
"So where do you want to go for dinner?" Momma's Boy asked.
"I think.... I'm not feeling well." I stammered. It wasn't a complete lie. "I think I need to go home...."
"Oh...." He said, defeated.
We drove to my apartment in silence. When we parked I simply patted his hand and exited the car. I had no words.
I ran up the stairs and burst through the door of my apartment.
"That was fast..." My roommate had just enough time to get out before he stared in wide eyed confusion as I began to disrobe just inside the door down to my under roos and ran for the shower. I washed everything at least 3 times, considered burning the clothes, and collapsed onto the couch to tell my roommate the whole story.
I never answered Momma's Boys phone calls again.
Tune in next time to learn all about Chlamydia
Monday, March 14, 2011
An Open Letter To My Nephew
Hi! Aunt Nicole here.
Lets talk, man to man.
Er, woman to man.
Um, woman to baby?
Alright heres the deal. There is this poll about when you're going to be born and since you passed your due date oh.... 24 hours ago, there are only a few of us left in the running to win.
Namely, me and your Grandpa.
What do we win you ask?
Well, I suppose just the satisfaction of being right.
The thing is, Your Grandpa LOVES to be right. Pretty much more than anything else in the world. Seriously. Its fine if you don't believe me but you'll figure it out one day. Now in reality, if you were born like... Today, that would be really super scheduling wise for me personally and I know your moms schedule is WIDE OPEN, but that would mean your grandpa wins.
That sir, is unacceptable.
So I picked Saint Patricks Day for you because you know, we arnt really Irish at all but your 21st birthday would be pretty nifty huh?
That's 4 days away. Now I'm not saying you SHOULD stay in there for 4 more days, and your mom would actually kill me if she found out that's what I wanted, but could you do your Aunt a solid and let me win?
I swear, I have a really great "Told ya so" dance prepared. It would be totally worth it.
Did I mention you're my favorite Nephew?
Ok you're right, You're my ONLY nephew.
I promise to be your favorite Aunt though and let you do all the good stuff your parents wont!
Come on, April 17th seems like a really sweet birthday doesn't it?! Maybe sometime around 3am?
Just think on it.
Love and Skittles,
Your Future Favorite Aunt Nicole
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Afternoon Delight
Not that kind of Afternoon Delight.
But wouldnt that be great.
I was reminded this morning by Collin that today at 1:30 he has a program at school.
1:30 is not really a good time for programs because Jack NEEDS to be napping at 1:30. So does Mommy.
Well my mother said she would gladly stay with Jack so I could go to the program and then suggested that I better just hang around town until C gets done with school so I can pick him up then.
My pulse quickened.
I did the math in my head.
Program at 1:30
That means Im outta there by like 2.
Collins day ends at 4.
That means theres 2 full hours of childless time in the middle of the afternoon. THE MIDDLE OF THE AFTERNOON PEOPLE!
My head started to swim. What will I fill those 2 glorious hours with?!
I'll visit a friend!
I'll go shopping!
I'll go out for lunch!
I'll skip through the streets singing and high fiving people!
Or maybe I'll go for a nice quiet cup of coffee and some reading because none of those other things are too logical.
My friends are at work, I shouldnt spend any money, and I'll have already eaten. Oh and the bums downtown get all annoyed with outward displays of happiness and I dont really want to touch their hands with a high five.
Ick.
Maybe there will be a little skipping going on. Whatever. Dont judge me.
But wouldnt that be great.
I was reminded this morning by Collin that today at 1:30 he has a program at school.
1:30 is not really a good time for programs because Jack NEEDS to be napping at 1:30. So does Mommy.
Well my mother said she would gladly stay with Jack so I could go to the program and then suggested that I better just hang around town until C gets done with school so I can pick him up then.
My pulse quickened.
I did the math in my head.
Program at 1:30
That means Im outta there by like 2.
Collins day ends at 4.
That means theres 2 full hours of childless time in the middle of the afternoon. THE MIDDLE OF THE AFTERNOON PEOPLE!
My head started to swim. What will I fill those 2 glorious hours with?!
I'll visit a friend!
I'll go shopping!
I'll go out for lunch!
I'll skip through the streets singing and high fiving people!
Or maybe I'll go for a nice quiet cup of coffee and some reading because none of those other things are too logical.
My friends are at work, I shouldnt spend any money, and I'll have already eaten. Oh and the bums downtown get all annoyed with outward displays of happiness and I dont really want to touch their hands with a high five.
Ick.
Maybe there will be a little skipping going on. Whatever. Dont judge me.
Monday, March 7, 2011
The Fitness Edition
I hit the 20 pound mark yesterday.
Lost.
Yes there is 20 pounds less of me which means I feel about 20 times more awesome.
The fitness buff came out in me after my breakup when I could feel depression setting in. I started working out constantly as a way of motivating myself to at least get out of bed everyday. Specifically I started running when I felt like crying as a way to numb some of the pain.
Hey, it was either that or booze.
Ok so maybe I did some pain numbing with booze too but I digress...
I hadnt really made a weight loss goal ever because Ive never REALLY worked at weight loss and in turn Ive never seen any results.
A couple weeks ago I shared my most recent weight loss with Ex-Husband Extraordinaire.
"Congrats!" He said via text. "When you reach 125lbs I'll do something nice for you!"
Awe, his intentions are good but... 125lbs? Who said anything about 125lbs?
"Uh I dont want to be 125lbs." I replied. Its really too low of a weight for my frame.
"Well what is your goal then?" He asked
I paused reading his text. Goal? Hmmm, I didnt really have a goal. But is a manageable goal the difference between "healthy" and "well on your way to a body image disorder"?
I better set a goal.
"135lbs" I replied. I remember being 135lbs before children and feeling and looking good.
"Great. When you get there I'll take you out for dinner." He said.
Awe, again with the good intentions though it seems mighty counter productive.
So last night I ate pizza for the first time with The Neighbor and managed to not over indulge so I jumped on the scale afterwords.
145.2
I got off and got back on.
145.2
I set Jack on the scale.
31.4
It seems to be working properly. I got on again.
145.2
I ran down the stairs like my ass was on fire and lept onto the couch doing something like Rocky Balboas victory dance at the stop of the steps in Philly. I might have even hummed a bit of the song.
I was met by a room full of blank stares.
"I weigh 145 pounds" I said as I dropped down on the couch.
No one seems quite as impressed by this as me.
So last night I made a bet with my friend Miguel that I can have better abs than him by swimsuit season. He will be back in Michigan in 2 months to compare results and declare a winner.
I'm crunching and planking my ass off here folks.
Whats your favorite workout? Yoga? Kickboxing? Running?
Lost.
Yes there is 20 pounds less of me which means I feel about 20 times more awesome.
The fitness buff came out in me after my breakup when I could feel depression setting in. I started working out constantly as a way of motivating myself to at least get out of bed everyday. Specifically I started running when I felt like crying as a way to numb some of the pain.
Hey, it was either that or booze.
Ok so maybe I did some pain numbing with booze too but I digress...
I hadnt really made a weight loss goal ever because Ive never REALLY worked at weight loss and in turn Ive never seen any results.
A couple weeks ago I shared my most recent weight loss with Ex-Husband Extraordinaire.
"Congrats!" He said via text. "When you reach 125lbs I'll do something nice for you!"
Awe, his intentions are good but... 125lbs? Who said anything about 125lbs?
"Uh I dont want to be 125lbs." I replied. Its really too low of a weight for my frame.
"Well what is your goal then?" He asked
I paused reading his text. Goal? Hmmm, I didnt really have a goal. But is a manageable goal the difference between "healthy" and "well on your way to a body image disorder"?
I better set a goal.
"135lbs" I replied. I remember being 135lbs before children and feeling and looking good.
"Great. When you get there I'll take you out for dinner." He said.
Awe, again with the good intentions though it seems mighty counter productive.
So last night I ate pizza for the first time with The Neighbor and managed to not over indulge so I jumped on the scale afterwords.
145.2
I got off and got back on.
145.2
I set Jack on the scale.
31.4
It seems to be working properly. I got on again.
145.2
I ran down the stairs like my ass was on fire and lept onto the couch doing something like Rocky Balboas victory dance at the stop of the steps in Philly. I might have even hummed a bit of the song.
I was met by a room full of blank stares.
"I weigh 145 pounds" I said as I dropped down on the couch.
No one seems quite as impressed by this as me.
So last night I made a bet with my friend Miguel that I can have better abs than him by swimsuit season. He will be back in Michigan in 2 months to compare results and declare a winner.
I'm crunching and planking my ass off here folks.
Whats your favorite workout? Yoga? Kickboxing? Running?
Friday, March 4, 2011
I Thought My Head Would Explode - A Date Recap
It wasn't him. Really.
It was me.
He is a 19yr old Hipster girls wet dream with his skinny jeans, and little shirts, and tattoos, riding his bike. Hes sweet, but fairly shy and owns a dog that bares a striking resemblense to Splinter from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
I woke up with a ridiculous head cold but I was so commited to the idea that I took a couple cold pills and went on my merry way.
I did really well for a few hours. I made it to him, we talked, we ate, he got coffee, we walked..
And then I crashed.
The medicine wore off.
Cue me laying with my head in his lap watching Hoarders for what seemed like HOURS.
God bless him, he still thinks I'm cool.
So when I left I gave him an IOU for a second date when I dont feel like my sinuses will explode.
It was pretty cute.
It was me.
He is a 19yr old Hipster girls wet dream with his skinny jeans, and little shirts, and tattoos, riding his bike. Hes sweet, but fairly shy and owns a dog that bares a striking resemblense to Splinter from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
I woke up with a ridiculous head cold but I was so commited to the idea that I took a couple cold pills and went on my merry way.
I did really well for a few hours. I made it to him, we talked, we ate, he got coffee, we walked..
And then I crashed.
The medicine wore off.
Cue me laying with my head in his lap watching Hoarders for what seemed like HOURS.
God bless him, he still thinks I'm cool.
So when I left I gave him an IOU for a second date when I dont feel like my sinuses will explode.
It was pretty cute.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Dating - The Big Leap
Do you know what time it is folks?
Yes its time to take the plunge into the first post-breakup date.
(And I swear I wont need a xanex for this)
So after my Chicagoland Epiphany a couple weeks ago, I decided that since that relationship was dead dead dead, maybe it was time to try dating again. But where does any self respecting lady find a dateable man?
.....*crickets*.....
Yeah I had no idea either.
I turned to the internet. I mean, I know there are about a million creepers out there but at least this way to can stay fairly anonymous while I figure out if they are a sex offender or have any weird fetishes or something.
I immediately got about 100 e-mails. At first glance this is good for the ego. When I started sorting through the e-mails I was overwhelmed with a sense of dread.
Married....
Missing teeth....
62 years old....
Doesn't speak English....
Really? Really?! This is the crap I have to look forward to in the big wide world of dating? Ugh, No thank you.
After an hour of the "read and delete" I stumbled across one e-mail. Short and sweet. He seems cute. Not overly boastful. Not any of those other things listed above. Lets give this a try. Whats the next step before I return the e-mail?
Facebook and Google stalk of course.
It was an uneventful stalk which is good so an e-mail was sent, and then many e-mails were exchanged, and eventually a billion text messages during which I may or may not have giggled like a little girl(Shhh... please don't tell anyone).
Thus he has become The Cyclist.
Have I mentioned that I don't ride bikes? Like at all.
No matter. He looks suspiciously like a hipster and might think I'm the coolest thing since sliced bread and I happen to find him ridiculously awesome... with cute as a really great perk.
So I will be trekking to HIS city to do some exploring and rock this date type business with him. Wish me luck.
God willing, this isnt a headfirst dive into an empty pool.
Yes its time to take the plunge into the first post-breakup date.
(And I swear I wont need a xanex for this)
So after my Chicagoland Epiphany a couple weeks ago, I decided that since that relationship was dead dead dead, maybe it was time to try dating again. But where does any self respecting lady find a dateable man?
.....*crickets*.....
Yeah I had no idea either.
I turned to the internet. I mean, I know there are about a million creepers out there but at least this way to can stay fairly anonymous while I figure out if they are a sex offender or have any weird fetishes or something.
I immediately got about 100 e-mails. At first glance this is good for the ego. When I started sorting through the e-mails I was overwhelmed with a sense of dread.
Married....
Missing teeth....
62 years old....
Doesn't speak English....
Really? Really?! This is the crap I have to look forward to in the big wide world of dating? Ugh, No thank you.
After an hour of the "read and delete" I stumbled across one e-mail. Short and sweet. He seems cute. Not overly boastful. Not any of those other things listed above. Lets give this a try. Whats the next step before I return the e-mail?
Facebook and Google stalk of course.
It was an uneventful stalk which is good so an e-mail was sent, and then many e-mails were exchanged, and eventually a billion text messages during which I may or may not have giggled like a little girl(Shhh... please don't tell anyone).
Thus he has become The Cyclist.
Have I mentioned that I don't ride bikes? Like at all.
No matter. He looks suspiciously like a hipster and might think I'm the coolest thing since sliced bread and I happen to find him ridiculously awesome... with cute as a really great perk.
So I will be trekking to HIS city to do some exploring and rock this date type business with him. Wish me luck.
God willing, this isnt a headfirst dive into an empty pool.
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