Alcohol = breast cancer
Consuming one serving of alcohol a day (doesn't matter what kind, either) increases a woman's risk of breast cancer by 10%, they just announced. An average of 3 or more drinks a day means an increased risk of 30%.
I'm screwed.
Actually, these meds may have another benefit (besides the obvious "keeping my nutty ass out of jail" one)--I've had to severely cut my alcohol intake. First of all, alcohol and bipolar don't mix (in fact, I've learned that it's one of my personal "triggers"); but more than that, the meds make the alcohol affect me much more quickly. Before, I could sit with J. at Benny's after work, knock back 6* glasses of wine and barely feel a buzz; now, I start feeling anything much more than a glass and a half. Plus, I've been trying to drink less since my psychiatrist said I had a potential "alcohol problem". I told her, "No way! I drink as much as the other teachers at my school. In fact, there are lots of teachers who drink WAY more than I do!" and she said "Yes, but we're not talking about other teachers. We're talking about YOU." I felt like a 5-year-old. A 5-year-old LUSH, mind you, but a 5-year-old nonetheless. Anyway, she said that with 2 alcoholic uncles (at least) and the amount I was consuming, I had to be careful, as I was walking the fine line between "problem" and "-ism."
The last reason, of course, that I've been trying to cut back on my alcohol is the diet. Wine has fewer calories than other forms of alcohol, but it's calories nonetheless. And speaking of which--
Another pound and a half this week, baby! I'm down to 145--which was my initial goal weight. My "final" goal weight is 140. Whoo ooo!!! I'm damn close to my "skinny weight" now!! I'm almost back where I was!!
UPDATE: I'm wearing my skinny jeans on my date with Former Marine tonight. This is the first time I've worn them in over a year. Whoo hoo!!
*It's 2-for-1 at Benny's, so it was only 3 "rounds". I couldn't help it if they brought me 2 for every 1 I ordered!
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Friday, September 28, 2007
PMS much?
This month, I blubbered my way through Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?
(Yes, AGAIN.)
But this was their graduation night, so it was justifiable. (Right?) Jeff Foxworthy presented them all with $25K savings bonds for their own futures and it was so touching and they were so excited that I got all verklempt. (Hell, I'm tearing up again just thinking about it.) Plus, it made me think of my current 5th graders--who I'm already SO attached to--graduating to middle school. And then, to make it worse, my 7th graders from last year, now 8th graders, will have their OWN graduation ceremony to high school. (There's already SUCH a change in them from last year, especially the boys. Hell, they're young men now.)
Anyway, between the two, I'll be a MESS come June.
This month, I blubbered my way through Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?
(Yes, AGAIN.)
But this was their graduation night, so it was justifiable. (Right?) Jeff Foxworthy presented them all with $25K savings bonds for their own futures and it was so touching and they were so excited that I got all verklempt. (Hell, I'm tearing up again just thinking about it.) Plus, it made me think of my current 5th graders--who I'm already SO attached to--graduating to middle school. And then, to make it worse, my 7th graders from last year, now 8th graders, will have their OWN graduation ceremony to high school. (There's already SUCH a change in them from last year, especially the boys. Hell, they're young men now.)
Anyway, between the two, I'll be a MESS come June.
Dating in your 30s
This started out as a reply to a comment; then I decided, the more I typed, that it was worthy of a separate post.
It's kind of funny, but I'm becoming almost PROUD of my childless (well...you know) and never-married status. Although I was feeling quite old-maid-ish in my late 20s, something happened as I hit this new decade....I wear it now as a badge of pride, rather than a "What the hell is wrong with HER? Why has no one married her yet?" type of thing. People like me are becoming increasingly rare in Dating Land, that's for sure. Instead of being divorced and on my 2nd go-around, I'm still waiting for the right guy. I'd rather be single till I'm 40 and find "the one" than to get married at 22 and divorced at 28, ya know?
(DISCLAIMER TO THE DATING GODS: that does not mean that I HOPE I'm single till I'm 40. Just so we're clear on that fact.)
Instead of becoming LESS picky and settling as I get older, I find myself becoming MORE picky about the men I date (and keep around). Shit. I've waited THIS long; I'm sure not going to settle now.
As many of you know, I have pretty low self-esteem. However, for all of my many, many flaws, I can recognize this truth about myself: I am an incredibly loving, compassionate person. When I love someone, I LOVE them--totally and completely. I do my absolute best to make them happy. Do I fuck up every now and then? Hell, yeah. But I still feel that what I have to offer outweighs those cons. Because like everyone else, I'm human. I can only do so much. And--OOH, EPIPHANY!!!--this is why I'm so forgiving of others' mistakes. This is why it's so hard for me to hold a grudge. This is why I still talk to the exes who treated me like crap or the people who have hurt me along the way....because I know what it's like to fuck up. ROYALLY. And I hope people will forgive ME and see the good that *I* still have to offer, in spite of it all. And that's what I do: even when someone's an ass to me, I still focus on the good--because that's exactly what I hope they'll do for me.
And you know what? If, along the way, someone CAN'T forgive me or stand by me--well, that's fine. I don't have to answer to them. But I do have to answer to ME. And no matter how badly they knock me down, I'll know that *I* always gave them the benefit of the doubt, I always loved THEM with an open heart, I always forgave THEM--even if it ended up biting me in the ass.
Everything happens for a reason, and God knows I saw my share of trials during my 20s (and even the first 9 months of my 30s) and learned my share of lessons. I have to believe that it's all leading up to/ preparing me for SOMETHING, ya know? It's like the name of this blog is truly coming to fruition:
I set out on a narrow way many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you
Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you...
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true
I'm still single as a motherf*cker--but at least now I can see the REASON for it...and be okay with it.
This started out as a reply to a comment; then I decided, the more I typed, that it was worthy of a separate post.
It's kind of funny, but I'm becoming almost PROUD of my childless (well...you know) and never-married status. Although I was feeling quite old-maid-ish in my late 20s, something happened as I hit this new decade....I wear it now as a badge of pride, rather than a "What the hell is wrong with HER? Why has no one married her yet?" type of thing. People like me are becoming increasingly rare in Dating Land, that's for sure. Instead of being divorced and on my 2nd go-around, I'm still waiting for the right guy. I'd rather be single till I'm 40 and find "the one" than to get married at 22 and divorced at 28, ya know?
(DISCLAIMER TO THE DATING GODS: that does not mean that I HOPE I'm single till I'm 40. Just so we're clear on that fact.)
Instead of becoming LESS picky and settling as I get older, I find myself becoming MORE picky about the men I date (and keep around). Shit. I've waited THIS long; I'm sure not going to settle now.
As many of you know, I have pretty low self-esteem. However, for all of my many, many flaws, I can recognize this truth about myself: I am an incredibly loving, compassionate person. When I love someone, I LOVE them--totally and completely. I do my absolute best to make them happy. Do I fuck up every now and then? Hell, yeah. But I still feel that what I have to offer outweighs those cons. Because like everyone else, I'm human. I can only do so much. And--OOH, EPIPHANY!!!--this is why I'm so forgiving of others' mistakes. This is why it's so hard for me to hold a grudge. This is why I still talk to the exes who treated me like crap or the people who have hurt me along the way....because I know what it's like to fuck up. ROYALLY. And I hope people will forgive ME and see the good that *I* still have to offer, in spite of it all. And that's what I do: even when someone's an ass to me, I still focus on the good--because that's exactly what I hope they'll do for me.
And you know what? If, along the way, someone CAN'T forgive me or stand by me--well, that's fine. I don't have to answer to them. But I do have to answer to ME. And no matter how badly they knock me down, I'll know that *I* always gave them the benefit of the doubt, I always loved THEM with an open heart, I always forgave THEM--even if it ended up biting me in the ass.
Everything happens for a reason, and God knows I saw my share of trials during my 20s (and even the first 9 months of my 30s) and learned my share of lessons. I have to believe that it's all leading up to/ preparing me for SOMETHING, ya know? It's like the name of this blog is truly coming to fruition:
I set out on a narrow way many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you
Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you...
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true
I'm still single as a motherf*cker--but at least now I can see the REASON for it...and be okay with it.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
....
I feel like I SHOULD write something, but there isn't much to say. I just feel kind of...blah. For someone on a cocktail of happy pills, I should feel a helluva lot perkier than I do. I'm just tired, I think. Been pulling my 55-60 hour weeks again (and then coming home and grading papers for another 2 or 3 hours). So add that to a lack of sleep and you have a Draggin'-Ass Jen. (I'm TRYING to sleep; I just haven't been able to the last week or so.)
Things with Single Dad fizzled out. As some of you know, I started getting some distinct warning signs that things may not be completely resolved/settled with his ex...and God knows I don't want to get into one of THOSE situations again. Jesus, the things Golf Course Guy and I had to deal with were freakin' insane. Literally.
(One could argue that my calling someone else insane is like the pot calling the kettle crazy, but at least I had a justifiable cause and am fixable. Some people are just flat-out psychotic bitches for no other reason than to fuck with people's lives. But I digress.)
Anyway, Single Dad is no more. I'm now talking to a former Marine (hubba hubba) and another guy but I can't remember what he does. Both have a kid. Man, dating sure changed once I hit 30. Divorced and/or kids is now the rule, not the exception. (Both of these guys are never married, though.)
So that's about it. Oh, and a general memo to my sisters: please stop having kids in September. It's one hell of an expensive month. Plus, I get back from the card store, read my email, remember that someone ELSE is having a birthday and then go back. I've been doing that all month. Sure, I could just pull a Renee and get organized and buy them all at once at the start of the month and mail them out so they actually get there BEFORE each birthday....but then that wouldn't be ME, now would it?
I feel like I SHOULD write something, but there isn't much to say. I just feel kind of...blah. For someone on a cocktail of happy pills, I should feel a helluva lot perkier than I do. I'm just tired, I think. Been pulling my 55-60 hour weeks again (and then coming home and grading papers for another 2 or 3 hours). So add that to a lack of sleep and you have a Draggin'-Ass Jen. (I'm TRYING to sleep; I just haven't been able to the last week or so.)
Things with Single Dad fizzled out. As some of you know, I started getting some distinct warning signs that things may not be completely resolved/settled with his ex...and God knows I don't want to get into one of THOSE situations again. Jesus, the things Golf Course Guy and I had to deal with were freakin' insane. Literally.
(One could argue that my calling someone else insane is like the pot calling the kettle crazy, but at least I had a justifiable cause and am fixable. Some people are just flat-out psychotic bitches for no other reason than to fuck with people's lives. But I digress.)
Anyway, Single Dad is no more. I'm now talking to a former Marine (hubba hubba) and another guy but I can't remember what he does. Both have a kid. Man, dating sure changed once I hit 30. Divorced and/or kids is now the rule, not the exception. (Both of these guys are never married, though.)
So that's about it. Oh, and a general memo to my sisters: please stop having kids in September. It's one hell of an expensive month. Plus, I get back from the card store, read my email, remember that someone ELSE is having a birthday and then go back. I've been doing that all month. Sure, I could just pull a Renee and get organized and buy them all at once at the start of the month and mail them out so they actually get there BEFORE each birthday....but then that wouldn't be ME, now would it?
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Tribute to My Homeless Guy
As some of you know, I read online last night that the body of a homeless man was found here in the neighborhood this past weekend. And based on the picture, it's "my" homeless guy.
Now mind you, I had never even talked to the man. But since I moved here a year ago, I've seen him almost every week. He was always around (near Publix and the bowling alley, where his body was found, seemed to be his two most frequent hangouts). He was never asking for handouts. He'd just walk around. Sometimes he'd sit down on the grass and just watch everyone go by. And every time I saw him, I always thought, "Man, I should stop and help him"--give him money, food, SOMETHING. And, of course, I never did. I always had somewhere I just HAD to be. Or I didn't have cash on me. Or any one of a number of excuses.
I'll do it later, I told myself. Next time.
I told myself that for over a year.
So part of the tears were guilt-induced. Part of it was...I don't know. He had just become, in a weird way, a part of my life. Kind of like the old man I always see walking back from the gas station every morning, like clockwork, on my way to work.
And then I had a thought that just broke my heart: I was probably the only one in the whole world who cried at his passing. He left this world and barely anyone even noticed.
So here's to Richard, my homeless guy: I sure hope that wherever you are now is a hell of a lot better than your life down here. You WILL be missed.
I just wanted you to know that.
As some of you know, I read online last night that the body of a homeless man was found here in the neighborhood this past weekend. And based on the picture, it's "my" homeless guy.
Now mind you, I had never even talked to the man. But since I moved here a year ago, I've seen him almost every week. He was always around (near Publix and the bowling alley, where his body was found, seemed to be his two most frequent hangouts). He was never asking for handouts. He'd just walk around. Sometimes he'd sit down on the grass and just watch everyone go by. And every time I saw him, I always thought, "Man, I should stop and help him"--give him money, food, SOMETHING. And, of course, I never did. I always had somewhere I just HAD to be. Or I didn't have cash on me. Or any one of a number of excuses.
I'll do it later, I told myself. Next time.
I told myself that for over a year.
So part of the tears were guilt-induced. Part of it was...I don't know. He had just become, in a weird way, a part of my life. Kind of like the old man I always see walking back from the gas station every morning, like clockwork, on my way to work.
And then I had a thought that just broke my heart: I was probably the only one in the whole world who cried at his passing. He left this world and barely anyone even noticed.
So here's to Richard, my homeless guy: I sure hope that wherever you are now is a hell of a lot better than your life down here. You WILL be missed.
I just wanted you to know that.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Homesick
Blame it on Kish.
I got an email from her today talking about an upcoming visit to the apple orchard.
Oh, MAN. Apple orchards and apple cider and donuts and pumpkin patches and leaves changing colors and burning leaves (which gives me asthma but still) and caramel apples (I only want those in the fall) and the air getting chillier....I MISS THAT.
I had actually plumb forgotten that it was fall back home, too. (Yes, I said "plumb." Apparently, being homesick almost makes me a dork.)
The winter season isn't so bad, because a) winter sucks ass and b) I can at least experience it while I'm home for the holidays. But fall? I miss the whole damn thing. I haven't seen fall since 2006. Wow. That's weird. I can't do it this year, but maybe I'll fly home next year for a fall weekend (like my birthday). Although it won't be the same without hitting the haunted houses and orchards with Anna....
OH, COME ON!!! As I was composing this blog, the following email came in from my friends at BettyCrocker.com: "10 Fall Apple Favorites." Son of a BITCH. (PS: What the HELL are "cooking apples" and how are they different from "eating apples"?)
As Ross on Friends would say: Bummin' hard, guys. Bummin' hard.
Blame it on Kish.
I got an email from her today talking about an upcoming visit to the apple orchard.
Oh, MAN. Apple orchards and apple cider and donuts and pumpkin patches and leaves changing colors and burning leaves (which gives me asthma but still) and caramel apples (I only want those in the fall) and the air getting chillier....I MISS THAT.
I had actually plumb forgotten that it was fall back home, too. (Yes, I said "plumb." Apparently, being homesick almost makes me a dork.)
The winter season isn't so bad, because a) winter sucks ass and b) I can at least experience it while I'm home for the holidays. But fall? I miss the whole damn thing. I haven't seen fall since 2006. Wow. That's weird. I can't do it this year, but maybe I'll fly home next year for a fall weekend (like my birthday). Although it won't be the same without hitting the haunted houses and orchards with Anna....
OH, COME ON!!! As I was composing this blog, the following email came in from my friends at BettyCrocker.com: "10 Fall Apple Favorites." Son of a BITCH. (PS: What the HELL are "cooking apples" and how are they different from "eating apples"?)
As Ross on Friends would say: Bummin' hard, guys. Bummin' hard.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Overheard
When you mix women, alcohol and bedroom aids, pretty much anything goes. I've seen and heard some crazy things at my Pure Romance parties (which is part of the reason they're so fun). However, I overheard something last night that made me laugh really hard. Now, perhaps this was taken out of context--and maybe you had to be there--but as I was taking orders in the back bedroom, the following snippet of conversation wafted down the hall to us:
"And he told me, 'Put your shirt back on!' and I said, 'But I just took it off!!' "
LOLOLOL.
When you mix women, alcohol and bedroom aids, pretty much anything goes. I've seen and heard some crazy things at my Pure Romance parties (which is part of the reason they're so fun). However, I overheard something last night that made me laugh really hard. Now, perhaps this was taken out of context--and maybe you had to be there--but as I was taking orders in the back bedroom, the following snippet of conversation wafted down the hall to us:
"And he told me, 'Put your shirt back on!' and I said, 'But I just took it off!!' "
LOLOLOL.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Well, our smoke alarm works
**NOW: UPDATED WITH PICS. SEE BELOW**
As I was watching Must See TV tonight, a piercing shriek suddenly filled the condo.
I frantically jumped up and, disoriented, tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Was it a tornado siren? (We had a drill today at school due to some severe weather so I had tornadoes on the brain.) Suddenly, I realized that it was the smoke alarm.
And a split second after THAT, I realized why.
I went tear-assing into the kitchen (running into the stripper pole as I rounded the corner from my room into the dining room), where I found a bit of a "situation" on the stove.
See, I had been boiling one of my Pure Romance Hot Heart Massagers. Basically, they're reusable heat packs that are just WONDERFUL. To "reset" them for subsequent use, you simply boil them for 7-10 minutes. Due to being wrapped up in my TV viewing, however, I had inadvertantly been boiling mine for 45-60 minutes.
Anyway, to make a long story short: the water had completely evaporated, the Massager had exploded and the plastic remnants had caught fire.
No exaggeration: the smoke was so thick that my eyes were watering and burning. The noxious fumes probably explain why I had started to feel slightly dizzy.
Everything is back under control now, although I probably have some irritated neighbors. Seeing as how the average age of residents in these condos is roughly 105 and the average bedtime is about 6 pm--and seeing as how I had to throw open every door and window to get the shrieking to stop--they probably weren't too appreciative of all the action coming out of Unit 810.
Never a dull moment.
Before
**NOW: UPDATED WITH PICS. SEE BELOW**
As I was watching Must See TV tonight, a piercing shriek suddenly filled the condo.
I frantically jumped up and, disoriented, tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Was it a tornado siren? (We had a drill today at school due to some severe weather so I had tornadoes on the brain.) Suddenly, I realized that it was the smoke alarm.
And a split second after THAT, I realized why.
I went tear-assing into the kitchen (running into the stripper pole as I rounded the corner from my room into the dining room), where I found a bit of a "situation" on the stove.
See, I had been boiling one of my Pure Romance Hot Heart Massagers. Basically, they're reusable heat packs that are just WONDERFUL. To "reset" them for subsequent use, you simply boil them for 7-10 minutes. Due to being wrapped up in my TV viewing, however, I had inadvertantly been boiling mine for 45-60 minutes.
Anyway, to make a long story short: the water had completely evaporated, the Massager had exploded and the plastic remnants had caught fire.
No exaggeration: the smoke was so thick that my eyes were watering and burning. The noxious fumes probably explain why I had started to feel slightly dizzy.
Everything is back under control now, although I probably have some irritated neighbors. Seeing as how the average age of residents in these condos is roughly 105 and the average bedtime is about 6 pm--and seeing as how I had to throw open every door and window to get the shrieking to stop--they probably weren't too appreciative of all the action coming out of Unit 810.
Never a dull moment.
Before
After
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Amen and hallelujah
Party Of One
By Julia Allison Special to Yahoo! Personals
Although I'm rarely accused of "having good timing" (or tact, for that matter), it seems that my luck has finally turned: Today I've parted ways with the jerk, er, guy I was seeing, just in time for the nonstop thrill ride that is National Singles Week. Er, excuse me -- National Unmarried and Singles Americans Week. Because I am nothing if not a serious investigative journalist, I did a hard-hitting piece on the phenomenon that's sweeping our nation: Celebrating being single during an assigned week! Most reporters would shy away from such a controversial subject. Not me. It's all about the story, people. With that, today's column, Party of One. Cue "All By Myself."
If you're one of the 95 million Americans who stubbornly refuse to join in wedded bliss, the commemorative holiday you've been feverishly anticipating is finally here. That's right, spouse-less slackers, it's National Unmarried And Single Americans Week! Possessors of a marriage license, get thee to the sleepy bedroom 'burbs. This week is NOT for you!
As for the rest -- I know it's difficult to contain your exuberance.
You've no doubt already planned several rollicking events, probably involving whipped cream and speed dating.
You've no doubt already planned several rollicking events, probably involving whipped cream and speed dating. After all, times when you can officially celebrate not having a ball & chain come but once a year. (Excluding bachelor parties. Obviously.)
The esteemed holiday was founded in 1984 by a courageous group of Ohioans called the Buckeye Singles Council, who clearly had too much free time on their (ring-less) hands. Disgruntled with the smug marrieds in their state, they decided that they just wouldn't stand for it anymore.No longer....
No longer would they ignore the blatant favoritism accorded to those with marriage certificates!
No longer would they put up with the inferior status of those without contractual agreements sealed with large, expensive parties involving multi-tiered cakes!
No longer would they answer their mother's insistent phone calls about "that nice Jewish orthodontist"!
They retaliated by proclaiming that forthwith, the third week in September would be reserved solely for honoring unmarried people throughout the nation as well as creating awareness of the rampant discrimination against their kind. Oh, you think the unattached don't really suffer discrimination? I bet you're married, you single-hater!
According to one dating expert I spoke with, "There is still a stigma and embarrassment about being alone."
Yeah! Here's to all the stigmatized, embarrassed singles out there. Grab your cats and a bottle of warm white wine and raise a toast to life without joint tax returns, "checking in," and mandatory visits with ugly in-laws.
"This week single people are finally given permission to actually get out and enjoy themselves," the expert explained.
Permission?
Singles are the only people who DON'T need permission to go enjoy themselves!
Singles are the only people who DON'T need permission to go enjoy themselves!
Beyond that, how should we losers without wedding bands celebrate this momentous occasion? Alcohol, nudity, repeated trips to Scores?
According to the expert, we can "get a good night's sleep, hang out with friends, or go for a great haircut."
Personally, I was leaning towards the alcohol and nudity, but okay. I guess a haircut sounds nice too.
And of course, nothing says "I'm going all out to properly commemorate National Unmarried and Single Americans Week" like getting a good night's sleep.
I knew this was going to be the Best Week Ever.
Party Of One
By Julia Allison Special to Yahoo! Personals
Although I'm rarely accused of "having good timing" (or tact, for that matter), it seems that my luck has finally turned: Today I've parted ways with the jerk, er, guy I was seeing, just in time for the nonstop thrill ride that is National Singles Week. Er, excuse me -- National Unmarried and Singles Americans Week. Because I am nothing if not a serious investigative journalist, I did a hard-hitting piece on the phenomenon that's sweeping our nation: Celebrating being single during an assigned week! Most reporters would shy away from such a controversial subject. Not me. It's all about the story, people. With that, today's column, Party of One. Cue "All By Myself."
If you're one of the 95 million Americans who stubbornly refuse to join in wedded bliss, the commemorative holiday you've been feverishly anticipating is finally here. That's right, spouse-less slackers, it's National Unmarried And Single Americans Week! Possessors of a marriage license, get thee to the sleepy bedroom 'burbs. This week is NOT for you!
As for the rest -- I know it's difficult to contain your exuberance.
You've no doubt already planned several rollicking events, probably involving whipped cream and speed dating.
You've no doubt already planned several rollicking events, probably involving whipped cream and speed dating. After all, times when you can officially celebrate not having a ball & chain come but once a year. (Excluding bachelor parties. Obviously.)
The esteemed holiday was founded in 1984 by a courageous group of Ohioans called the Buckeye Singles Council, who clearly had too much free time on their (ring-less) hands. Disgruntled with the smug marrieds in their state, they decided that they just wouldn't stand for it anymore.No longer....
No longer would they ignore the blatant favoritism accorded to those with marriage certificates!
No longer would they put up with the inferior status of those without contractual agreements sealed with large, expensive parties involving multi-tiered cakes!
No longer would they answer their mother's insistent phone calls about "that nice Jewish orthodontist"!
They retaliated by proclaiming that forthwith, the third week in September would be reserved solely for honoring unmarried people throughout the nation as well as creating awareness of the rampant discrimination against their kind. Oh, you think the unattached don't really suffer discrimination? I bet you're married, you single-hater!
According to one dating expert I spoke with, "There is still a stigma and embarrassment about being alone."
Yeah! Here's to all the stigmatized, embarrassed singles out there. Grab your cats and a bottle of warm white wine and raise a toast to life without joint tax returns, "checking in," and mandatory visits with ugly in-laws.
"This week single people are finally given permission to actually get out and enjoy themselves," the expert explained.
Permission?
Singles are the only people who DON'T need permission to go enjoy themselves!
Singles are the only people who DON'T need permission to go enjoy themselves!
Beyond that, how should we losers without wedding bands celebrate this momentous occasion? Alcohol, nudity, repeated trips to Scores?
According to the expert, we can "get a good night's sleep, hang out with friends, or go for a great haircut."
Personally, I was leaning towards the alcohol and nudity, but okay. I guess a haircut sounds nice too.
And of course, nothing says "I'm going all out to properly commemorate National Unmarried and Single Americans Week" like getting a good night's sleep.
I knew this was going to be the Best Week Ever.
Burning bridges
Yeah, you guys are right. This friendship thing with Dave just isn't going to happen. It hit me tonight on the phone--realizing the way he talks to me and treats me. It's like seeing everything in a different light. I tried to justify it before but guess what? I AIN'T CRAZY NO MO'. My mind is getting right and so is my perspective.
Anyway, it was good (well, some of it) while it lasted, but it's time to just burn that bridge and move on. We didn't work out for a LOT of reasons--and guess what? They weren't all on my end. And the same things that made me miserable in the relationship are the same things that are making me miserable in the friendship.
I don't hope he gets hit by a bus or anything but as of about 10 minutes ago, he really doesn't mean anything to me anymore. After all, you can't care about someone who treats you like dirt.
Yeah, you guys are right. This friendship thing with Dave just isn't going to happen. It hit me tonight on the phone--realizing the way he talks to me and treats me. It's like seeing everything in a different light. I tried to justify it before but guess what? I AIN'T CRAZY NO MO'. My mind is getting right and so is my perspective.
Anyway, it was good (well, some of it) while it lasted, but it's time to just burn that bridge and move on. We didn't work out for a LOT of reasons--and guess what? They weren't all on my end. And the same things that made me miserable in the relationship are the same things that are making me miserable in the friendship.
I don't hope he gets hit by a bus or anything but as of about 10 minutes ago, he really doesn't mean anything to me anymore. After all, you can't care about someone who treats you like dirt.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)