Say "eh..." to the dress

So Christmas has come, kicked our asses and left us wondering what the hell happened. Christmas can often be worse than the morning after a bad date that went to sex. I'm not sure which of the two leaves a bigger mess.

I decided several weeks ago, that I was going to spend my Christmas at home. In years past I've gone wherever my family was and just blew around in the breeze. Yes. I can fade into the wall quite nicely. I know you're shocked. This year I decided the best way to accept and embrace my life, and to really solidify the fact that I'm ok with where I am, is to live by it. So I stayed up late on Christmas Eve. I went to Midnight mass at the church I grew up going to. I came home and spent the rest of the evening playing with my cat. We watched "Shaun of the Dead" until the wee hours.. I actually fucking drank hot coco. With little fucking marshmallows and mini Hershey kisses.


I know I talk about my cat a lot. But she actually makes me laugh. A lot. Sometimes she just starts bolting around the apartment and will slide her ass into the wall or something.. It's legit funny shit. So hop off.

I slept in, wrapped presents, more perfect coco, my apartment was filled with sweet smells of pulled pork because I'm fucking cool and decided to make it. Later on I went to my parents house, did gifts with them, my sister, brother in law, and niece... stayed up laughing and then came home to bed. Best fucking Christmas ever.

Thank you for asking.





So of course, I'm addicted to facebook. I have 937 friends. Some of them are really fucking funny. Sometimes they don't mean to be and I wicked throw judgies their way. But for the most part, facebook is live banter and it makes me laugh. Though around Christmas... I start seeing engagement rings. I'm in my late 20's. I see more and more every year.

Congrats to Liz and Jim!

To me, it's the same as seeing pictures of pet bunnies on Easter, or turkey dinners on Thanksgiving, or burning crosses on Election Day.. These are just things of which we've come to be aware.






Here's my thing with engagements, weddings, and marriages. I think I've finally figured it out.







In my day to day life, I come across stories of  "So this married broad I was bangin.." or "My boyfriends wife got him the same watch *I* was going to buy him! Who knew we had the same taste in accessories?!"

It's no secret. Infidelity is quite present in this world. It's nothing new. We just find out more often. But why?





Is the purpose and goal of dating to get married? Then what?



Dating>Shack up>Ultimatum>Engagement>Marriage>Kids>House>Dog>Mistress/Pool Boy.


That's a whole lot of lead up... with nothing after it.



In this way I feel torn between my traditional raising, and my modern bohemian lifestyle.


I'm a girl. I was a Bride for Halloween when I was 6. I've played house since I was 4. I've dated since I was 15. I've lived with 3 boys. Almost engaged twice. Almost eloped once (don't ask). I've been there. Of course I have a dream wedding in mind (it's fucking awesome, by the way)... but why is it the purpose in life? Why are you considered a failure if you're single? Why is it bad to BE with someone... but not plan on marriage? Or to not dwell and focus on it as a goal?




I have a theory. On several things.

Of course I want a wedding. I want to parade around in a beautiful dress, have my hair done, make up, nails, shoes... I want to have my sisters and closest girlfriends in coordinating dresses holding beautiful flowers. I want my man of mans to be there in a tux/kilt combo along with his "boys" staring at me. I want the music, the dancing, the celebration, the toasts, the pictures, the chicken dance, and hell. I'm not a jew but hoist me up on a chair anyway! I want people to know I'm in love, and loved in return and it's fucking special. I want to go on a vacation with my honey, and get upgraded to first class. I want to get deported like all the happy newlywed couples!

It's so fucking exciting! So much leads up to it! But I often wonder if people forget the most important part of all that. That you're in fucking love. I feel like.. with all the shows, and books, and magazines, celebrities, and expectations and the tradition and the feeling of not getting there....That love get's lost. I feel like people go on the hunt for a wedding, and forget that a marriage comes with that. Then when you open all of the gifts, exchange the weird ones, fill the picture frames, put the dress away, bring the tux back, and look around... What now?



"Shit. We got married at that wedding!"

Real grown up stuff.


I have no problem with marriage. I don't At all. I know plenty of happily married couples. I just also happen to know a lot who aren't.




I merely feel as though it should be looked into deeper than your next cell phone data plan.

It's like dating. Be with someone because you want to be. Spend time with them because you want to. Call them because you miss them. Take all that stuff you're "supposed" to do and throw that shit away. Be you. Let them be them. Be open minded and have an open heart. When you let that barrier fall and you stop going through the motions.. That's when you should decide to be with each other.....
















....Or if he brushes the snow off your car. Done deal.

Apples and orange vodka

So I've done a lot of thinking lately with my entire being and mindset as whole. Something came to mind today while seeing my old nic name "Hot Fries". One person used to call me that and  haven't heard it in 11 years. My friend Jimmy used to call me that. He'd always listen to my petty 16 year old problems and stories and tell me to smile more. He was the first person to really tell me my smile "lights up the room!". He was always so happy. I knew he had stuff going on but he was always interested in me. And hearing about my day. I was shocked to find one day, that he had taken his life. Even now as I write that... I had to stop and pause because I still can't fathom the idea of it. Of someone actually going through with that. It was as if the world had stopped.. and I had no idea how to handle it. I got dressed up and was ready to go to his calling hours.. But I never left the driveway. I couldn't move. It's the only calling hours I've ever missed. I've regretted it... Still do. 



Of course when someone dies... people grieve.. and move on... That year I also lost my grandmother. 


2 years later another friend. An ex boyfriend, actually, was killed while riding his bike on his way to a camping trip.We were planning to get together after his trip.

2 or 3 years after that I lost a childhood best friend to a drug overdose. She died in a bathtub in some skeezy motel off the highway. Last time I saw her mother, she still had this sadness in her eyes, and hugged me so tight I stopped breathing.




Lost my last 2 grandparents between those.Within a year of each other to the week.

3 years ago lost a friend, and well.. boss, I guess. He was fucking brilliant... A star too bright for this world.

Then a Great uncle, my church buddie.

2 days after (2 years ago today) a dear, talented friend to another car accident. He told me days before that he had found inner peace. And we hugged, and talked, and laughed and I hugged him as if I knew it would be the last time I'd ever see his sparkling eyes.

This year alone.. I've seen 2 very strong, very young women lose their husbands suddenly. And 2 un born babies who will never meet their fathers.




I don't mean to be a downer but I really want to emphasise that we don't stand a fucking chance. No one gets out of life alive. Why spend it sulking? And crying? And worrying? And fighting? There's ZERO control. I think because I've had so many losses... so many suddenly taken from me.. snatched from my fingertips... That I have to just.. Move on. I don't want to waste my life because as I've seen.. it can be over. In a fucking instant. And ya know what? Those I've lost would be fucking pissed at me for letting sadness get the best of me.




So ya know what I do?



I drink. I swear. I sing. I dance. I laugh. I fucking laugh A LOT. I smile. I cry. I tell people I love them. I hug. I kiss. I take pictures. I tell people what they mean to me. Because there's nothing worse than regret. I make people laugh.. I make people think. I try to keep my eyes open and  try to figure out why things happen and I try to make the best of every situation. I try to learn from each experience. I believe in a higher power. I also believe people fucked with it all. Mainly I believe there shouldn't ever be a war or a death because of it.


Maybe this is why I seem to fear commitment. Maybe this is why I never pay all my bills on time. Maybe this is why I sometimes have ice cream for breakfast. Maybe this is why I go and stay out WAY too later with my best friends when I have to work the next morning. Maybe these "bad decisions" are what's making my life worth living? 


Maybe it's ok to have sex in front of an open window in the middle of the day and your neighbor happens to see you entwined with a lover!

Maybe run on sentences are fine.


Maybe we need to lighten up and seriously live by my no judgie policy. Seriously. Stop it with the fucking judgies. We all have shit. We all suck sometimes. We all make really bad decisions. We've all done things we aren't proud of. It's all relative. Get off your pedestal and have fun with the people who don't give a shit. You might find your life is worth living if you fucking close the date book and go do something nuts and random one night.




Spend your last $6 on a mocha chocha lata yaya. 



Now let's do some shots. 

Where's your cherry?

Ok so I'm not really sure how to take this. People keep trying to set me up. Like... twice in a week. I'm not sure if I should be flattered? Or offended. Do I seem desperate? Lonely? Am I obnoxiously single? Is it my time? My destiny? Is it in the hands of my old friend's brothers roommate?? All this time. The cherry on my sundae has been in Ithaca. 

Who knew?


Seriously. I've been dating kinda! I've done a movie... I've done dinner!... I'm out there. 

I think now we're in a world where not only are people afraid to be alone.. they're afraid for other people to be alone. It's their duty as a humanitarian to make sure I have someone to go apple picking with this autumn. And that I have someone to take me ice skating downtown this Winter. 

When really? I may not have 1 specific person to do all that with. I may not have anything set in stone with anyone... But I can honestly say.. for the first time in my life I'm happy being me, and being alone. And saying "I'm alone" isn't some emo cry for help. Fuck you! There's nothing wrong. It's not like I'm some hermit cat lady....

I'm going to go do all that shit, by the way.... I make an incredible apple sauce. And I can do a pretty sweet twirly spin thing and not bust my ass or the ice. I'm fucking talented at this seasonal shit. I should have an apron that says that. "I'm fucking good at this shit. Kiss my ass"



Homemaker of the year..



I feel as if I should have several men in my life. This is something I'm half serious about. I'm legit, a complex person. I fucking love going out and doing shit.... I love staying home and doing the opposite. I love waking up early to go on some great adventure... I love waking up early to switch sides and stretch and fall back asleep.... I love dressing up and going out... drinking.. laughing... singing.. dancing.. all night... or.. throwing on pjs and a hoodie and splitting a bottle or 6 of wine with my beeches. I love going to hockey games. I love movies. I love concerts. I love musicals. I love cigar bars. I love townie bars. I love bar bars. I love spending time with my family. I love seeing old friends, and catching up with the regulars. I fucking love the zoo. I love coming home to someone. I love coming home to no one but my cat. I love having someone to let me in. I love not knowing what tomorrow will bring, and I love having an itinerary..


Until someone who will do all that shit comes around.. there's no need for me to settle. I don't think there's anything wrong with that. 



People are so focused on what's right and what's wrong... what's accepted... what's frowned upon... People get so caught up in that... they miss EVERYTHING... I used to just sit back and worry and wonder

 and... still.. someone would disapprove of me. Or my life. Of my choices. Fuck that. Someone will ALWAYS disapprove. Always. Your best bet is to live how you want to live. Do what makes you happy, but fucking learn. LEARN. For the love of God, LEARN!!! Think of how you felt. How you feel... Do you disapprove? Are you dissatisfied? Are you bothered by it? Can you live with it? It's a big scary world out there. It's easy to make friends... it's easier to lose them. It's WAY easy to make enemies. 

Take chances. Get out there. Do your thing. Do it for YOU. Not for the kid your uncle worked with on a job back last April.





Do it.



And then do my laundry.

Your face is full of JUDGIES!

I've found that this life... can be very silly sometimes. I'm having a battle of wits in my head right now about how I want to approach this. I think I need another beer. Please excuse me:

My apologies. Now.. Where was I? Ahh yes. My "thoughts". Yes.



An old friend of mine and I were talking recently. He told me he and his woman were fighting. He found some dirty text messages on her phone to another fella. This upset him.

 Obviously. 




We then get into a conversation about what is right and acceptable conversation between two individuals? Does their past mean anything? For example... If you sleep with somebody and are left in good standing following said relations... and years pass and you're dating other people... Are you allowed to talk about your sexual past with whom you experienced? Reminisce at all? How far is too far? What are the rules? Are you supposed to just forget about it? Pretend as if it never happened? Or... do you just not talk to your current about it? Or ONLY talk to them about it?

In the end... my friend and his woman decided to look past these conversations and get on with their relationship. I say kudos to that. Why? I'll tell you.



I think it's safe to say that most adults have been involved in some sort of cheating situation. Maybe I'm totally wrong but.. I sure do hear a lot of relationships ending that way. Maybe we're looking at it the wrong way. Maybe if we all didn't believe monogamy was the "right" and only way to go there would be less heartbreak in this world? Less tears, more laughs... more trust... more orgasms!

I know what you're thinking. And that's fine. No judgies. Trust me... a year ago if I were to read this blog I'd think "Way to justify being a slut, ya big breasted hot piece of ass!" But in all seriousness... What if the Mormons were kinda right this whole time?

Hear me out. Gather 'round the magic carpet of sex and open relationships.

Say the situation is as follows..: You come home from work early to find your snickerdoodle kissy face scrumpin some no name bitch. 

You're shocked. You're hurt. You feel sick... you want to cry, and scream and punch them both in the face. 



Why?




What makes it hurt? Why do you feel that burn? That pain? That anger and sadness??


Because you trusted. You thought you "knew them". You "never saw it coming". You feel cheated. And like a victim. Like the world is against you and nothing is the same.


What part hurts? The sex? The actual, physical act of sex? Or is it the break of trust? The sneaking around... the planning... 




My point is... If you can gather the balls to actually be fully open, and honest, and respectful of yourself, and your partner... and accept each other... come to specific terms and conditions.... These situations don't have to happen.



Does this make any sense? I'm asking you to think about it. Open your mind right now... put your own thoughts and bullshit and judgies aside.. and hear me out. 

There's no sneaking around. There's no lying. There's no secrets.



Open.



It's like having Neapolitan ice cream.... 3 flavors... right there... Sometimes you just need some strawberry.




With sprinkles.




and a waffle cone cone. 

I think the most important thing people need to remember... is what's normal now? Wasn't normal then... and what's normal in the future? Who knows. But I'm sure people in the future will look back on us and scratch their heads. Because that's what we do. We look at history and wonder how the hell we got to where we are. It's all so different. And that's ok. 


If I ever have kids... I hope whatever kind of world we live in... it's an accepting one. And they can be whoever they were born to be.

As long as they're not republicans.

Wanna play doctor?

So I'm going to repeat myself a bit here. I'm not a professional blogger. I don't get paid. I have 4 subscribers... fuck you. I can touch on past topics if I want. Or forget. Or.. whatever fucking reason. Get off my back.

I just got home from wishing a best friend a final farewell before she moves 12 hours away. Though I've known her for many years, this past year has been exceptional. She has helped me grow and learn in so many ways. She's such a strong, bright, talented (like.. disgustingly talented) confident woman. She has helped me realize that.. despite my many quirks, and mannerisms, i'm a good person. I'm funny. I'm smart. I'm different. I'm beautiful the way I am. And most importantly.. I'm ok.

"Ok.. drunk face in 3... 2...peeerfect"

I will go on to say that my ex boyfriend DESPISED this woman. If you hooked him up to a brain wave reading machine... the mere mention of her name would match that of a pedophile watching a Tampax commercial. He lost his shit once when the two of us had plans to meet for lunch and bra shopping. I'm not exaggerating. I'm not lying. This. Actually. Fucking. Happened.

The thing is... she had the reputation of being a bitch. When in reality, it's the exact opposite. If you're being a total asshat... she'll tell you. If you hurt her feelings... she'll tell you. If you have invalid points about musical theatre... she'll tell you and then correct you.



What I'm getting at is... she isn't fake. She doesn't get all wishy washy.. she doesn't bite her tongue like a good girl ought to. She'll tell you how it is, and look fabulous while doing so. She's confident. Not a bitch. The thing with bitches is... they won't ever take advice. They never admit they're wrong. She will. If she doesn't understand something, she will learn. She'll follow up. She'll ask.

When I started hanging out with her more.. I saw that in her. I saw that it made sense to ask these things. To not stand there quietly when someone is wrong or being an asshat. It's ok to speak up. To be heard.

It took me this long to understand why he didn't like her.



She mentioned being in year 3 of her 5 year plan. When she said this.. I realized... I've never had a plan. I didn't in high school... I didn't in "college"... I don't now. I thought about it on the way home and I can't come close to having one.





Every generation and every society has a cookie cutter life style. There's the American Dream! The Husband! The Wife! The Kids! The dog! The white picket fence! The 2 car garage! Home office with framed diplomas on the wall! Pool in the back yard next to the BBQ! And a comfortable lifestyle with weekends off and clear blue skies!

Only... for millions of us... it's nothing like that.

I'm 28 (on Saturday, by the way... Happy Birthday to me!) A community college dropout, I'm in retail management, single, and I live alone with my cat in the city. I almost always have dishes waiting in the sink, clothes piled on the floor, a fridge full of beer, and a cupboard full of Mac and Cheese (Kraft), Spaghetti O's and a box of stale Special K. I have a variety of friends and acquaintances, I spend too much time on facebook, I curse like a sailor, cry like a girl, and I'm ok with that.

I have no idea what I want or where I want to be. It's incredibly difficult to figure out your future, while not destroying your present. Do I want to get married? Do I want kids?


I actually enjoy being in a relationship. I love getting excited to see a text from him.. or to see his car pull up... I HATE when I can't go a sentence without mentioning him (my sister catches me doing this ALL the time..) I love having someone to "report" to everyday about work, or to pass on a joke or.. hell.. to have a fucking date to something.

But!

In my single life I notice I have quite an array of taste. An extreme variety. My dating history confirms this. I've dated: Older, younger, fat, skinny, tall, short, alcoholics, sobers, sexy, fugly, smart, moronic, successful, pathetic, over the top Romeo, total Judas, rockstar, teacher, librarian, atheist, priest, pothead, straight edge, vegan, hunter....

Literally... I just can't figure out "my type"


Which of course has made me wonder if I can be with one person for the rest of my life? I know the divorce rate is high... I won't go there today. My point is.. if I know I can't.. I'm not going to. I will continue to date, and introduce my nieces and nephews to a new uncle every few months or years or what have yous.


I know what all you happily married people are going to say:

"When you meet him... you'll know"


My eldest sister says this. She's a lucky one. She did well in High School, went off to college, met her would be husband, broke he and his at the time girlfriend up, they dated, got engaged, finished college, got married, and they moved to a little apartment in Brooklyn where he finished Med School. They now live with their 3 amazing kids, in a custom built house in a small town on the southern tier. I don't know if she had a plan but it certainly worked out! They've been married for 17 years.

Another couple I know also had a plan. Started dating sophomore year. We're now 10 years out of high school. They're married, and just had a sweet baby girl.



I suppose what America needs to do a better job of.. is accepting people as I accept my apartment. It's eclectic. Nothing matches. And whenever I move again? My house will never be set up the same way.



There *is* no more cookie cutter. We're moving on and changing as a civilization. We're transitioning.




That's what I'm going to keep on doing.


Good luck, Bridge with a "T"! New York won't be the same without you! And North Carolina won't know what hit it! <3

You're a barista... not a life coach...

One of the worst things about a break up, besides the obvious of course, is the stupid little inspirational thigns people say to you. Suddenly everyone is a fucking psychological genius and knows exactly what went wrong, and how to fix it:

 "It's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.."

 Fuck you! Clearly you've never come home to find that some other bitch has used your lotion and body spray after scrumping your guy on your $20 Target t shirt sheets!

"There are plenty of fish in the sea"

Oh really, asshole?! How is that supposed to make me feel better? Gadzillions of little tiny fucking fish in this mass of water which takes up majority of our planet? And I'm supposed to find the right one?! Well I guess I WAS inspired by Finding Fucking Nemo... When I get drunk at bars I do tend to walk around grabbing strange men who smell good and say "Mine.. Mine... Mine....minemineminemineMIIIIINE!"

People do the same thing at funerals. As if losing someone wasn't torture enough... No. You then have to stand in line with your family and listen to dozens of people over and over say stupid things like:

"How ya holdin up?"

......really? These people obviously must forget what happens when someone dies. You have about an hour to grieve, then you have to go to the funeral home, the florist, the newspaper, then you're buried (no pun intended) in your mother's living room fishing through pictures, and do dads to put around the parlor, then you gotta find a wardrobe for yourself, and the deceased, figure out where the party is after the funeral (I'm Irish... It's just what we do..) and get word out. Figure out where all the out of towners are going to sleep... what kind of cereal they fucking like... so on and so on. So to answer your question, woman who knew grampa back in '72, Shitty. I am doing quite shittilly.


"Let me know if there's anything I can do"

I know this one means well.... But it needs to be more specific. Let me help you....


"When time will someone be at the house so I can drop over some lasagna?" or "I'm taking my kids to the movies tonight.Can I pick up your little Sally at 5:30?" Otherwise? This person will debate asking you to raise the dead, or go back in time... But they don't. Because they THINK before they say something stupid.

And I'm going to quote my grandmother on this one:

"I hate funerals with open caskets. People always say how good ya look. Well ya don't look good.. you're dead!"

And that's simply that.




What I'm getting at is... people are going to involve themselves in your personal life. It's easier now to do than ever before. There are so many windows into your life... we have a major lack of privacy. And don't get me wrong, I have a facebook. I put my shit out there. And I forget. I forget that all of these people know these little bits and pieces of my life. It always throws me off when someone I barely recognize and question knowing finds me in a store and asks how my cats hairball problem is. Big stuff.

My point is... people are people. We've all done it. We've all said mindless, careless things to other people without thinking. As humans.. we also have to deal with this shit when it happens to us. Understand what they're trying to say. Despite the fact that they may be failing miserably! There may be a point in there somewhere... Just try to find it. And embrace it. I mean.. do what I do and smile... say "Thank you.. that's so kind of you to say"..

Then think the real shit in my head...

"It's not the end of the world"

Well no shit! Are you saying I can't get pissed off unless the world is crumbling?! Of course I know it's not the end of the fucking world... moron..

"Maybe it's for the best"

....That I'm sitting alone with my mascara running down my face and into my mouth tarnishing the taste of Ben and Jerry (the ice cream, ya perv) in my mouth? Yeah, Maybe this is better than enjoying a meal cooked together and then sharing a bottle of wine over candlelight.. nah.. Phish food is WAY better. (Actually.. with my cooking? This sarcastic statement may be accurate...)

Having bad shit happen to us gives us the opportunity... rather the excuse to be "bad". To have the care free "I don't give a fuck" stand point for a few days. Don't feel bad about it... Fucking own that shit. You need to get yourself back to who you were. You need to fucking cry like a baby, you need to sing Alanis Morisette at the top of your lungs. You NEED to delete all the pictures of your ex's anatomy from your cell phone... except maybe one.

 We *are*  human...


Then you need to take a shower. A long shower. Use too much shampoo. Too much soap. Too much conditioner. Shave EVERYthing. Then cover yourself in froo froo and sparkles.. do you hair so it looks natural, and stunning. Put on make up. Don't go lookin like a whore, or anything... just give yourself a new glow. Look natural. Put on a sun dress and fucking go outside. Wear a huge smile because you OWN this shit. YOU OWN THIS SHIT. And get on with your life.

And listen to Mika. Mika always helps.