- Having to clean ALL of the things when I feel like I JUST cleaned ALL of the things when I MOVED ALL of the things. There should be a free pass for 90 days after that.
- Dropping my toast on my new couch - butter-side down.
- Anyone who says I shouldn't be eating toast on my new couch.
- Emails from people telling me they miss me, but those same people never being particularly engaged in talking to me when I'm around.
- Blogger REFUSING to go to the next line when I hit "enter" and making me MANUALLY drop to the next line.
- Lying down too quickly and smooshing my boobs.
- Cat hair.
- Guys who send me emails from the personals thing that just say, "Hey - how you doing?" I'm fine. REALLY, that's what you came up with as an opening? Go sit down. Oh and part two of this? You don't have to be a good speller anymore, that's why Al Gore invented Spellchecker. Use it for fuck's sake.
- The cat who REFUSES to sit on the window perch that I bought and installed for her and instead lays on the bathroom floor. Jerk.
- Amazing sex dreams in the morning that won't get out of your head for the rest of the day.
- Humidity making my hair look like Roseanne Rosannadanna.
- Having to look up how to spell Roseanne Rosannadanna.
- People who are too young to know who Roseanne Rosannadanna is.
- Hot guys who are too young for me.
- Hot guys who are too married for me.
- Hot weather that is too hot for me.
- LeBron James.
This here fancy blog is where I can write whatever I want. This makes me happier than I can possibly describe... although, if I were a better writer I could probably describe it. Crap.
Showing posts with label word vomit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label word vomit. Show all posts
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Things That Are Bothering Me TODAY
Labels:
BOYS,
crabby von crabbenstein,
gross,
I'm kind of a jerk,
word vomit
Monday, February 1, 2010
I Am a Thieving Thief
I copied this entry idea from my delightful friend A Lover and a Fighter over at Hobocamp, because A) I adore her and everything she does and B) because I have nothing to write about and I feel like a big ol' lazy lazyass and need to write something soon before you all go away and find BETTER boring people to read about.
Things You'll Never Hear Me Say:
Things You'll Never Hear Me Say:
- Pie is not suitable for dinner.
- I can't wait to dust!
- Please get me LOTS of ketchup packets and make SURE they put extra mustard on it!
- Hyperbole is stupid.
- I plan to be the first in line for this new technology.
- I beat Meg at a game of Scrabble.
- $10 is not too much to spend on lip balm.
- There's nothing worth watching on tv, so I'm just going to do something productive instead.
- Being in "The Friend Zone" is just as good.
- I am very graceful and have superior balance.
- No, I don't have to pee.
- I don't need anything from Sephora.
- My job is fulfilling and makes me feel good about my life choices.
- Oh, happy day, these pants fit perfectly & I won't need to wear heels with them or have them hemmed!
- I'm too thin and tan.
- My mp3 player needs more memory.
- Quitting smoking was actually pretty easy.
- I like my freckles.
- Coke Zero is delicious!
- Pine nuts are of THE DEVIL.
- The problem with kids today...
- I've met some of my closest friends and favorite people over the internet.
- I'm going to be FORTY in a month.
- Brussel sprouts are tasty.
- I don't know if I could live without Facebook.
- I kind of like living in Ohio. (mostly)
- According to Google Reader, 45 people read this nonsense.
Labels:
fun facts,
pine nuts,
the internet can be helpful,
word vomit
Friday, October 30, 2009
Baby Got Back...
So, yeah, I understand that diet and exercise are the way to lose weight and get in shape. However, I also understand that I'm lazier than shit and I'm not so good at monitoring my own diet if my pants size is any indicator.
I've always been curvy, but not fat - I'd say, "thick" or "chunky" (Mmmm, like salsa!), until I quit smoking a few years ago. I've gained 30 pounds and I just seem to keep adding to it. I've done Weight Watchers and been REALLY dedicated to it, but didn't lose more than 5 - 10 pounds. My doctor prescribed diet pills (SPEED - WOOHOO!) and not only did I feel like *ass*, I only lost a few pounds and gained it back as soon as I went off of them. I used to exercise with the ex, but he was in fantastic shape and I couldn't keep up, so I'd get frustrated and stop. I have a WiiFit and I'm really trying to make myself use it with regularity, but so far, I can't seem to make myself use it even though I enjoy the hell out of it while I'm playing.
I'm a few months shy of turning 40. My father's heart attack kind of scared me and made me reexamine my own lard-lined arteries. I'm single and haven't been on a date date in several years because I have a hard time trying to date when I feel like a whale and I'm a tiny, little petite chick, so that much extra weight makes me look as wide as I am tall. I need to lose about 30 - 40 pounds and I need to do something that shows some results or I'll give up and quit trying. (Yes, I realize that I'm an assy baby about this, I'm just trying to be honest with myself and with you and despite wanting to NOT be an assy baby, I know my limitations.)
Yes, I talk about waffles all the time, but seriously, I really don't eat them that often and I'm not even lying when I say I eat relatively healthfully (I LOVE vegetables and fruit and recently I don't seem to really like meat, so I don't eat hamburgers, hot dogs or sausage), I only eat fast food maybe twice a month and I don't drink sugar soda. My biggest problems seem to be that I fail at packing my lunch for work and then eat whatever is closest; I eat late at night, since I tend to not go to bed until 1:00 AM; and I am a huge fan of butter, cheese, and anything with the word "cake" in it. I think I could possibly benefit from a restrictive & strict diet that's pre-packaged and is planned for me.
Now that I've rambled on (too bad excessive typing doesn't burn significant calories), here's my question to you: I'm seriously considering joining Jenny Craig, Nutrisystem, or Chefs Diet (which is sort of like The Zone food delivery service, except not the REALLY good shit that rich people and celebrities get). These are all fairly expensive and I will be a bitter, bitter bunny if the food tastes, looks or smells like barf. Have any of you tried any of those programs or known anyone who has? Were they/you successful in the weight loss? Was the food edible? Would it work for a picky eater? Did the weight come back after going off the program?
Any feedback is GREATLY appreciated!
I've always been curvy, but not fat - I'd say, "thick" or "chunky" (Mmmm, like salsa!), until I quit smoking a few years ago. I've gained 30 pounds and I just seem to keep adding to it. I've done Weight Watchers and been REALLY dedicated to it, but didn't lose more than 5 - 10 pounds. My doctor prescribed diet pills (SPEED - WOOHOO!) and not only did I feel like *ass*, I only lost a few pounds and gained it back as soon as I went off of them. I used to exercise with the ex, but he was in fantastic shape and I couldn't keep up, so I'd get frustrated and stop. I have a WiiFit and I'm really trying to make myself use it with regularity, but so far, I can't seem to make myself use it even though I enjoy the hell out of it while I'm playing.
I'm a few months shy of turning 40. My father's heart attack kind of scared me and made me reexamine my own lard-lined arteries. I'm single and haven't been on a date date in several years because I have a hard time trying to date when I feel like a whale and I'm a tiny, little petite chick, so that much extra weight makes me look as wide as I am tall. I need to lose about 30 - 40 pounds and I need to do something that shows some results or I'll give up and quit trying. (Yes, I realize that I'm an assy baby about this, I'm just trying to be honest with myself and with you and despite wanting to NOT be an assy baby, I know my limitations.)
Yes, I talk about waffles all the time, but seriously, I really don't eat them that often and I'm not even lying when I say I eat relatively healthfully (I LOVE vegetables and fruit and recently I don't seem to really like meat, so I don't eat hamburgers, hot dogs or sausage), I only eat fast food maybe twice a month and I don't drink sugar soda. My biggest problems seem to be that I fail at packing my lunch for work and then eat whatever is closest; I eat late at night, since I tend to not go to bed until 1:00 AM; and I am a huge fan of butter, cheese, and anything with the word "cake" in it. I think I could possibly benefit from a restrictive & strict diet that's pre-packaged and is planned for me.
Now that I've rambled on (too bad excessive typing doesn't burn significant calories), here's my question to you: I'm seriously considering joining Jenny Craig, Nutrisystem, or Chefs Diet (which is sort of like The Zone food delivery service, except not the REALLY good shit that rich people and celebrities get). These are all fairly expensive and I will be a bitter, bitter bunny if the food tastes, looks or smells like barf. Have any of you tried any of those programs or known anyone who has? Were they/you successful in the weight loss? Was the food edible? Would it work for a picky eater? Did the weight come back after going off the program?
Any feedback is GREATLY appreciated!
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Money Can't Buy Happiness...
But it can buy a shit-ton of other stuff!
I've been on a weird spending spree of late. I don't often spend a great deal of money at one time or on myself. This isn't to say I don't treat myself regularly or buy the best "whatever" that I can afford; I do. I make pretty good money and have no one other than myself on whom to spend it. Oh and that giant piggycat, but really, she's happy with the boxes that my stuff comes in, so I don't spend a lot on her.
Lately though, like within the last 2 to 3 weeks, I've been going NUTS buying shit. I've recently purchased 8 movies, 3 tv series, a robot vacuum (for the *truly* lazy), 5 pairs of shoes (because the 46 I already own are not enough. No, I'm not kidding. I really have 51 pairs of shoes now. All in their boxes, labeled and neatly stacked),hundreds thousands of dollars worth of new clothes, a knife holder shaped like a body (awesome find, Rusty, thanks!) and a new video game disc for a video game console I never use. WTF?
Obviously, I'm overcompensating for something lacking in my life. I'm trying to buy a life. I used to spend money on trips and nights out. I used to go to the movies and dinner and football games and local concerts. I used to do all of these things when I was with someone. Since I've been alone, I go home after work and turn on the tv and the computer. I watch movies I've seen before because I hate watching new movies alone. I have no one to talk about them with. (Yes, I ended a sentence in "with". Suck it.) I don't seem to really cook anymore because cooking for one is a chore and leaves me with entirely more food than I need. And I don't really go anywhere because suddenly, I've developed some weird agoraphobic tendencies that I never had before. I get freaked out and anxious if I go someplace new.
This is turning out WAY whinier than I intended. I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining, I absolutely am not! In fact, what came to me was that it's time to STOP whining. To stop sitting around with a "woe is me" attitude and do something about it. I need to metaphorically and um, phorically? clean out my closet. Dump the shoes and clothes and memories that don't fit any longer. Clear out the clutter in my home and in my brain.
Some opportunities are coming up at work and maybe I need to go back to school? I also need to use the networking tools at my disposal and expand my business and personal connections. Maybe I need to try online dating while I'm at it? I don't know. What I *do* know is that I've let my life become stagnant and have embraced my inner-slacker too much. It's time to stop buying my life and instead make my life.
Any suggestions, tips or personal anecdotes you can share to help me get started?
I've been on a weird spending spree of late. I don't often spend a great deal of money at one time or on myself. This isn't to say I don't treat myself regularly or buy the best "whatever" that I can afford; I do. I make pretty good money and have no one other than myself on whom to spend it. Oh and that giant piggycat, but really, she's happy with the boxes that my stuff comes in, so I don't spend a lot on her.
Lately though, like within the last 2 to 3 weeks, I've been going NUTS buying shit. I've recently purchased 8 movies, 3 tv series, a robot vacuum (for the *truly* lazy), 5 pairs of shoes (because the 46 I already own are not enough. No, I'm not kidding. I really have 51 pairs of shoes now. All in their boxes, labeled and neatly stacked),
Obviously, I'm overcompensating for something lacking in my life. I'm trying to buy a life. I used to spend money on trips and nights out. I used to go to the movies and dinner and football games and local concerts. I used to do all of these things when I was with someone. Since I've been alone, I go home after work and turn on the tv and the computer. I watch movies I've seen before because I hate watching new movies alone. I have no one to talk about them with. (Yes, I ended a sentence in "with". Suck it.) I don't seem to really cook anymore because cooking for one is a chore and leaves me with entirely more food than I need. And I don't really go anywhere because suddenly, I've developed some weird agoraphobic tendencies that I never had before. I get freaked out and anxious if I go someplace new.
This is turning out WAY whinier than I intended. I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining, I absolutely am not! In fact, what came to me was that it's time to STOP whining. To stop sitting around with a "woe is me" attitude and do something about it. I need to metaphorically and um, phorically? clean out my closet. Dump the shoes and clothes and memories that don't fit any longer. Clear out the clutter in my home and in my brain.
Some opportunities are coming up at work and maybe I need to go back to school? I also need to use the networking tools at my disposal and expand my business and personal connections. Maybe I need to try online dating while I'm at it? I don't know. What I *do* know is that I've let my life become stagnant and have embraced my inner-slacker too much. It's time to stop buying my life and instead make my life.
Any suggestions, tips or personal anecdotes you can share to help me get started?
Saturday, May 30, 2009
I Guess It Was Inevitable...
It appears that I have finally reached the age where I've become invisible to men. I knew it would happen eventually 'cause I've totally seen it happen to other women. I've watched a group of guys crane their necks like prairie dogs when any butterface under 28 walks into the room, but not even turn their heads slightly when an average looking 40ish woman walks up to the bar next to them. I just didn't expect it to happen to me so soon! I've always been tiny, moderately cute, with big boobs and a big smile. I've never been "hot", but I've always been kind of cute. It's not like I ever had guys swarming around me or fighting to buy me a drink, but I've grown accustomed to being overtly and covertly checked out. Yeah, so, not anymore, I guess.
Yesterday was Jackie's last day. As if that wasn't sucktacular enough, last night I had to go for drinks & dinner with the obnoxious VP, two of the Directors (yes, one of them is this guy and no, THANKFULLY, one of them *wasn't* this one), the head of HR, my boss and Jackie. The word excruciating is too mild. Christ on a cracker! Do you think executive-types have any idea how preposterously self-important they sound? Do you think they listen to each other and think "Oh man, I can totally top your self-involved, self-congratulatory boring-ass story!"?
::Tangent::
A couple months ago the VP held a "Come to Jesus" meeting with the staff and reminded them of the economy and how important it is to make the office more efficient and blah, blah, blah. He cut the shit out of the supply order budget and eliminated non-essential things like raises (ok, so technically Corporate put the kibosh on raises, but it makes my rant sound better if it came from him directly, so, deal with it) and employee relations stuff like parties and the summer picnic. Everyone was fairly supportive because no one wants to lose their job because we were buying too many highlighters and scotch tape, so the belt-tightening didn't elicit much complaint or whining from the normally whiny staff. Last night, the VP & his gang of ass-kissers are talking about redecorating the Executive Conference Room. "You know, really making it the centerpiece of the office. When execs and management from other offices come to town, we should be able to represent ourselves with a Grade A conference room that reflects our professionalism." Really, dude? How do you think that's gonna' go over with the $11/hour employees who can't order fucking paperclips? Do you think they're not going to notice that the summer picnic isn't being held in the shiny new Executive Conference Room? Whatever. Shit like this is why everyone hates you, jerkface.
::End Tangent::
Sorry, sorry, sorry - got off track a bit. Anyway, the restaurant we went to for drinks is a swanky little place near our office downtown. It was early when we got there, 4:00ish. By 5:15 or so, the place was full of people. Predominantly men people. Business men. Button down shirts, ties, polished shoes. I'm going to guess mostly between the ages of 26 - 36. They stood in groups of 4 or 5 and all had some sort of product in their hair. In the days of yore, this would be exactly my crowd of mens. I do not like scruffy. I do not like sloppy. I do not like shaggy. I enjoy a man in a pressed shirt & tie, wearing dress slacks with a cuff. I make pretty good money and frankly, I prefer being with a guy who does too and doesn't need me to pay for the whole pizza because he "doesn't get paid until next Thursday and I gotta' get my car out of the shop, so I only have $3.67 in change until then. You don't mind, do ya' babe? I promise I'll pay you back next week and by the way, can you loan me a few bucks for smokes?" No...just, no.
Most days after work, I look busted. BUH-STED. I'm not even gonna' try to deny it. However, because I knew I had to attend this shindig from Hell, instead of tennis shoes & an "I give up and don't care anymore" baggy, non-cleavagy top, I wore a fitted, summery blouse with my jeans & heels. I even put on colored lip gloss, which I rarely wear and added an extra dab of concealer to my woefully dark under eye circles. I looked cute, but not at all whoreish. (YES, I'm getting to the point. Shut-up!) During the pre-dinner drinks, I probably went to the ladies' room 4 times (A. As previously mentioned, my bladder is the size of a walnut and B. Sometimes I just needed to get the fuck away from their incessant blathering for a few minutes). On my way to and from the powder room, I came into contact with approximately 23 men. Not one looked at me. Not ONE. Not a single guy smiled at me or nodded "hello" or even bothered to get the hell out of my way. I had to squeeze past 2 who wouldn't even acknowledge my existence enough to move a half-step to their side to let me pass them.
I'm not sure how I feel about this. Again, please understand, it's not like men were crawling all over me when I was younger, I don't mean to give that impression, but to be practically invisible is a brand-spanking new phenomenon to me. It makes me sad that this is the rest of my life from now on. I have officially become an old broad. The kind that "still looks pretty good for her age" or the one that "was probably smokin' when she was young". And unless I dress like a slutty Cougar or start hanging out where they serve an Early Bird Special, I don't think there's really much I can do about it. Blerg.
Do any of you have a grandpa you want to hook me up with?
Yesterday was Jackie's last day. As if that wasn't sucktacular enough, last night I had to go for drinks & dinner with the obnoxious VP, two of the Directors (yes, one of them is this guy and no, THANKFULLY, one of them *wasn't* this one), the head of HR, my boss and Jackie. The word excruciating is too mild. Christ on a cracker! Do you think executive-types have any idea how preposterously self-important they sound? Do you think they listen to each other and think "Oh man, I can totally top your self-involved, self-congratulatory boring-ass story!"?
::Tangent::
A couple months ago the VP held a "Come to Jesus" meeting with the staff and reminded them of the economy and how important it is to make the office more efficient and blah, blah, blah. He cut the shit out of the supply order budget and eliminated non-essential things like raises (ok, so technically Corporate put the kibosh on raises, but it makes my rant sound better if it came from him directly, so, deal with it) and employee relations stuff like parties and the summer picnic. Everyone was fairly supportive because no one wants to lose their job because we were buying too many highlighters and scotch tape, so the belt-tightening didn't elicit much complaint or whining from the normally whiny staff. Last night, the VP & his gang of ass-kissers are talking about redecorating the Executive Conference Room. "You know, really making it the centerpiece of the office. When execs and management from other offices come to town, we should be able to represent ourselves with a Grade A conference room that reflects our professionalism." Really, dude? How do you think that's gonna' go over with the $11/hour employees who can't order fucking paperclips? Do you think they're not going to notice that the summer picnic isn't being held in the shiny new Executive Conference Room? Whatever. Shit like this is why everyone hates you, jerkface.
::End Tangent::
Sorry, sorry, sorry - got off track a bit. Anyway, the restaurant we went to for drinks is a swanky little place near our office downtown. It was early when we got there, 4:00ish. By 5:15 or so, the place was full of people. Predominantly men people. Business men. Button down shirts, ties, polished shoes. I'm going to guess mostly between the ages of 26 - 36. They stood in groups of 4 or 5 and all had some sort of product in their hair. In the days of yore, this would be exactly my crowd of mens. I do not like scruffy. I do not like sloppy. I do not like shaggy. I enjoy a man in a pressed shirt & tie, wearing dress slacks with a cuff. I make pretty good money and frankly, I prefer being with a guy who does too and doesn't need me to pay for the whole pizza because he "doesn't get paid until next Thursday and I gotta' get my car out of the shop, so I only have $3.67 in change until then. You don't mind, do ya' babe? I promise I'll pay you back next week and by the way, can you loan me a few bucks for smokes?" No...just, no.
Most days after work, I look busted. BUH-STED. I'm not even gonna' try to deny it. However, because I knew I had to attend this shindig from Hell, instead of tennis shoes & an "I give up and don't care anymore" baggy, non-cleavagy top, I wore a fitted, summery blouse with my jeans & heels. I even put on colored lip gloss, which I rarely wear and added an extra dab of concealer to my woefully dark under eye circles. I looked cute, but not at all whoreish. (YES, I'm getting to the point. Shut-up!) During the pre-dinner drinks, I probably went to the ladies' room 4 times (A. As previously mentioned, my bladder is the size of a walnut and B. Sometimes I just needed to get the fuck away from their incessant blathering for a few minutes). On my way to and from the powder room, I came into contact with approximately 23 men. Not one looked at me. Not ONE. Not a single guy smiled at me or nodded "hello" or even bothered to get the hell out of my way. I had to squeeze past 2 who wouldn't even acknowledge my existence enough to move a half-step to their side to let me pass them.
I'm not sure how I feel about this. Again, please understand, it's not like men were crawling all over me when I was younger, I don't mean to give that impression, but to be practically invisible is a brand-spanking new phenomenon to me. It makes me sad that this is the rest of my life from now on. I have officially become an old broad. The kind that "still looks pretty good for her age" or the one that "was probably smokin' when she was young". And unless I dress like a slutty Cougar or start hanging out where they serve an Early Bird Special, I don't think there's really much I can do about it. Blerg.
Do any of you have a grandpa you want to hook me up with?
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Crabbypants McGee
So, I might be taking a break from Pajiba for a bit. It's just not that fun for me anymore. Ever since the April Fool's prank, I'm just not loving it. I'm still a bit bitter and kind of hurt, I guess. I feel like the little community that was created was destroyed. Not just destroyed by the staff, but also by the nameless "me too-ers" who were brave enough to chime in about feeling excluded, but not brave enough to ever post so they could be included. Logic like that confounds me. The timing of it was so crappy, too. We had all just come together to say goodbye to 'Manda and everyone was feeling all Kumbaya and shit and then, *splat*. Anything for a joke, right?
The regular old time crew, socalled, Sarina, Julie, PissBoy, jM, jamiepants and others I'm not remembering right now, appear to have stepped back into the shadows - oh, Shadows of Dakaron, that's who I forgot! - and it's a few new people and a few of us regulars and we're trying so hard to not let anything go off topic or offend anyone lurking that it's not really organic or entertaining to me anymore. Maybe I'm just cranky in general and need a nap.
Regardless, I miss the goofy. I miss the zombies. I miss SKITZ! And while it did irritate me on occasion, (and yes, I participated on occasion as well) I miss the sexual banter. The cheesy flirtations and the downright dirty flirty. I miss the silliness. I miss my friends.
This probably didn't warrant an announcement, but I'm really rather bummed about it, so I figured I'd share. Maybe this is all a bunch of word vomit and I'll change my mind tomorrow. Who knows? I may still read a bit when I'm supposed to be working, because seriously, how much work can they expect me to actually do? But, I don't think I'll be hanging out there as much. If anything super fun pops up, let me know, 'k? I'm still on the Facespace and visiting all of your blogs and I still love you all to pieces, but for now anyway, I'm gonna' find something else to do with my screwing around on the internet time.
The regular old time crew, socalled, Sarina, Julie, PissBoy, jM, jamiepants and others I'm not remembering right now, appear to have stepped back into the shadows - oh, Shadows of Dakaron, that's who I forgot! - and it's a few new people and a few of us regulars and we're trying so hard to not let anything go off topic or offend anyone lurking that it's not really organic or entertaining to me anymore. Maybe I'm just cranky in general and need a nap.
Regardless, I miss the goofy. I miss the zombies. I miss SKITZ! And while it did irritate me on occasion, (and yes, I participated on occasion as well) I miss the sexual banter. The cheesy flirtations and the downright dirty flirty. I miss the silliness. I miss my friends.
This probably didn't warrant an announcement, but I'm really rather bummed about it, so I figured I'd share. Maybe this is all a bunch of word vomit and I'll change my mind tomorrow. Who knows? I may still read a bit when I'm supposed to be working, because seriously, how much work can they expect me to actually do? But, I don't think I'll be hanging out there as much. If anything super fun pops up, let me know, 'k? I'm still on the Facespace and visiting all of your blogs and I still love you all to pieces, but for now anyway, I'm gonna' find something else to do with my screwing around on the internet time.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Letter to Myself
I saw this on TK's blog a long time ago. I stole the idea and have been sitting on it for awhile because I'm super lazy. BUT, I haven't written anything for over a week and now I feel bad because EIGHT people (thanks new person who added me) read this crap and probably are so sad that they can barely function; just wasting away waiting for me to post something. (I beg you not to ruin that fantasy for me. Thank you.)
The purpose of the blog post was to write a letter to your 13-year-old self. It looks ridiculously long and self-indulgent and it IS, I'm not gonna' lie, but it's a quick read.
Dear Lainey,
Hiiiiiiiieeeeeeee! It’s me…or you… or me, or whatever, anyway, I have some things to tell you that might make life a tiny bit easier for us. Who knows? Maybe (hopefully!) you’ll take the advice or maybe you’ve already hit the age where you think you know everything and anyone over 18 sounds like the teacher from ‘Peanuts’. Anyway, I hope you at least read this with an open mind.
First off: Don’t cut your hair after Brian Black dumps you for that girl Terri. He won’t care and you’ll be stuck with a really bad haircut that makes you look like a boy. PLEASE trust me on this. You have really great 80’s hair and you’re going to regret it, I promise. Secondly: Sorry dear, you’re short. You’re not going to get much taller. It’s best if you accept this now, learn to love high heels and learn to hem. Also, when it comes to heredity – don't go by the women on Dad's side of the family when it comes to breasts. It must come from Mom’s side, ‘cause you’re going to have biguns. Best to accept that early, too. Seriously, embrace it. They’re not going anywhere and your efforts to disguise them and hope no one notices isn’t going to work. When Laura G. tells you that, secretly guys really don’t like big boobs, laugh at her. Flaunt ‘em!
Moving on. When Ronda wants to smoke clove cigarettes? Yeah, just don’t. I know it seems cool and it’s “not really smoking”, but it isn’t cool and it is really smoking. Just don’t, ‘k? Also, Ronda is going to move away in 10th grade. I know this seems like the end of the world, but you’re still going to be friends. Don’t fret about it so much. You’re going to be friends for another 25 years or more. However, when she comes to visit you, don’t let her sit on the windowsill of the car on the way up the mountain to the Depeche Mode concert at Red Rocks! She can thank me for this later. I can’t say much more about your friends because you have pretty good taste when it comes to friends, BUT, don’t let Laura bully you. She’s funny and can be fun to be around, no question about it, but she’s an unhappy, possibly unstable, definitely selfish person who will try to drag you down with her. Don’t get sucked in. In fact, don’t buy in to all of the drama in school. Especially with girls you don’t even know. I know it sounds like something Grandma would say, but it’s very true – “if you can’t say something nice – shut the fuck up!” (Ok, Grandma would never say it like that, but you get what I mean.) Speaking of Grandma, be sweet to her. She loves you more than anyone else in the world ever could and all she wants to do is spend a few minutes talking to you. Just do it. I know she repeats herself and she likes to talk about Jesus a lot… okay, A LOT, but she really is a kind, gentle, funny, generous person who just adores you. Suck it up and call her occasionally.
High school is going to be a roller coaster, but here’s some good info to know; it’s like that for EVERYONE! Yeah, seriously. Brad R.? Has his own problems! That pretty cheerleader (sorry, can’t remember her name)? Yeah, she has problems, too. Don’t think you’re special – you’re not. You are, however, very cute! Instead of chasing after burnouts or football players, you may want to look around at some of the more creative and smart boys who like you. I know you think they’re dorks (and maybe they are, I’m not always right), but they’re going to treat you much better than the guys you’re normally attracted to and they may actually grow up and make something of themselves. In fact, don’t chase boys! I can’t be more emphatic about that. If you like a boy and you’ve let him know and he isn’t reciprocating? MOVE ON! Do not keep hanging around, do not become friends with him in the hopes that he’ll eventually like you as more than a friend, do not mope about it while listening to The Cure, just walk away and find another boy to crush on.
Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re not fat. You have curves. You’re not built like a 13 year-old boy. The sooner you stop comparing yourself to your friends, the happier you’re going to be. Please believe me when I tell you that later, maybe even in high school, hell, maybe even now, the other girls are going to envy you for your boobs and your ass. Be proud. Oh, but stop tucking your jeans and/or leggings into your socks and wearing pink Reebok hi-tops. It just looks stupid.
Dad is going to make you take a typing class in 10th grade. Instead of arguing with him about it, take a computer class. You won’t need more Theater or English classes, so take it. You’ll probably be the only girl in the class, so use that to your advantage and get as much help from the nerdboys as possible. Also, it’s evidently not that important that you do well in your English/Language Arts classes. In the future, 80% of the population can’t speak English for shit and this will just make you crazy, so you might as well ditch those classes and focus more on lip gloss. It’ll probably be more useful to you.
About Dad? He’s not always right, but he’s not always wrong either. Listen to him sometimes and make an effort not to roll your eyes every time he speaks. (I specifically avoided splitting the infinitive there and do you think anyone will notice? No. This is why I say don’t waste your time excelling in English.) Keep in mind that he’s a 36-year-old, single man (which is NOT old, by the way) raising a teenage daughter the best way he knows how. He’s never done this before either, so give him a break when he doesn’t understand why you’re a crying, boycrazy, drama queen mess sometimes. He’s a guy. Also, it’s going to help you to know that most guys you’ll meet aren’t like Dad. They don’t hold open doors and help you put on your coat. They won’t carry handkerchiefs and keep their nails trimmed. They won’t know how to clean and cook and do laundry properly and iron and know which shoes match what outfit – they just won’t know, so don’t expect all guys to be like that. They’re not. Dad is weird.
I’m sure there’s much more I could tell you, but you’re pretty hardheaded and I doubt you’d listen anyway. I will tell you this though: Don’t smoke. Moisturize! Don’t be afraid of being yourself – sounds unbelievably trite, but it’s so true. You’re a really good kid and it’s not a bad thing to be smart. You’re not going to be liked by everyone and that’s OK!!! Don’t hate how you look (your freckles will mostly fade, by the way). Lose your virginity whenever you want, but do it because you really want to do it, not because you’re too embarrassed to say “no”. Don’t be mean to other girls just because your friends are. Accept that it’s okay to have unexpressed thoughts – seriously, try it. Taco Bell is not Mexican food, so stop saying you love Mexican food – you don’t. Wear your glasses when you read. Don’t give up vodka for 7 years because of one stupid night. Don’t be a jerk to boys who approach you, even if they’re not cool. It takes a lot of guts for them, so don’t be a bitch about it. Try shrimp, you’ll like it. Don’t waste 5 years on David S. Go to college and live in the dorms. Don’t be obnoxious in 8th grade Social Studies class. You and Ronda do not want to feel guilty for years that you contributed to your teacher quitting teaching. Oh and very important – when you’re 27, DO NOT sell your Qualcomm stocks!!!!
Love,
Lainey
The purpose of the blog post was to write a letter to your 13-year-old self. It looks ridiculously long and self-indulgent and it IS, I'm not gonna' lie, but it's a quick read.
Dear Lainey,
Hiiiiiiiieeeeeeee! It’s me…or you… or me, or whatever, anyway, I have some things to tell you that might make life a tiny bit easier for us. Who knows? Maybe (hopefully!) you’ll take the advice or maybe you’ve already hit the age where you think you know everything and anyone over 18 sounds like the teacher from ‘Peanuts’. Anyway, I hope you at least read this with an open mind.
First off: Don’t cut your hair after Brian Black dumps you for that girl Terri. He won’t care and you’ll be stuck with a really bad haircut that makes you look like a boy. PLEASE trust me on this. You have really great 80’s hair and you’re going to regret it, I promise. Secondly: Sorry dear, you’re short. You’re not going to get much taller. It’s best if you accept this now, learn to love high heels and learn to hem. Also, when it comes to heredity – don't go by the women on Dad's side of the family when it comes to breasts. It must come from Mom’s side, ‘cause you’re going to have biguns. Best to accept that early, too. Seriously, embrace it. They’re not going anywhere and your efforts to disguise them and hope no one notices isn’t going to work. When Laura G. tells you that, secretly guys really don’t like big boobs, laugh at her. Flaunt ‘em!
Moving on. When Ronda wants to smoke clove cigarettes? Yeah, just don’t. I know it seems cool and it’s “not really smoking”, but it isn’t cool and it is really smoking. Just don’t, ‘k? Also, Ronda is going to move away in 10th grade. I know this seems like the end of the world, but you’re still going to be friends. Don’t fret about it so much. You’re going to be friends for another 25 years or more. However, when she comes to visit you, don’t let her sit on the windowsill of the car on the way up the mountain to the Depeche Mode concert at Red Rocks! She can thank me for this later. I can’t say much more about your friends because you have pretty good taste when it comes to friends, BUT, don’t let Laura bully you. She’s funny and can be fun to be around, no question about it, but she’s an unhappy, possibly unstable, definitely selfish person who will try to drag you down with her. Don’t get sucked in. In fact, don’t buy in to all of the drama in school. Especially with girls you don’t even know. I know it sounds like something Grandma would say, but it’s very true – “if you can’t say something nice – shut the fuck up!” (Ok, Grandma would never say it like that, but you get what I mean.) Speaking of Grandma, be sweet to her. She loves you more than anyone else in the world ever could and all she wants to do is spend a few minutes talking to you. Just do it. I know she repeats herself and she likes to talk about Jesus a lot… okay, A LOT, but she really is a kind, gentle, funny, generous person who just adores you. Suck it up and call her occasionally.
High school is going to be a roller coaster, but here’s some good info to know; it’s like that for EVERYONE! Yeah, seriously. Brad R.? Has his own problems! That pretty cheerleader (sorry, can’t remember her name)? Yeah, she has problems, too. Don’t think you’re special – you’re not. You are, however, very cute! Instead of chasing after burnouts or football players, you may want to look around at some of the more creative and smart boys who like you. I know you think they’re dorks (and maybe they are, I’m not always right), but they’re going to treat you much better than the guys you’re normally attracted to and they may actually grow up and make something of themselves. In fact, don’t chase boys! I can’t be more emphatic about that. If you like a boy and you’ve let him know and he isn’t reciprocating? MOVE ON! Do not keep hanging around, do not become friends with him in the hopes that he’ll eventually like you as more than a friend, do not mope about it while listening to The Cure, just walk away and find another boy to crush on.
Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re not fat. You have curves. You’re not built like a 13 year-old boy. The sooner you stop comparing yourself to your friends, the happier you’re going to be. Please believe me when I tell you that later, maybe even in high school, hell, maybe even now, the other girls are going to envy you for your boobs and your ass. Be proud. Oh, but stop tucking your jeans and/or leggings into your socks and wearing pink Reebok hi-tops. It just looks stupid.
Dad is going to make you take a typing class in 10th grade. Instead of arguing with him about it, take a computer class. You won’t need more Theater or English classes, so take it. You’ll probably be the only girl in the class, so use that to your advantage and get as much help from the nerdboys as possible. Also, it’s evidently not that important that you do well in your English/Language Arts classes. In the future, 80% of the population can’t speak English for shit and this will just make you crazy, so you might as well ditch those classes and focus more on lip gloss. It’ll probably be more useful to you.
About Dad? He’s not always right, but he’s not always wrong either. Listen to him sometimes and make an effort not to roll your eyes every time he speaks. (I specifically avoided splitting the infinitive there and do you think anyone will notice? No. This is why I say don’t waste your time excelling in English.) Keep in mind that he’s a 36-year-old, single man (which is NOT old, by the way) raising a teenage daughter the best way he knows how. He’s never done this before either, so give him a break when he doesn’t understand why you’re a crying, boycrazy, drama queen mess sometimes. He’s a guy. Also, it’s going to help you to know that most guys you’ll meet aren’t like Dad. They don’t hold open doors and help you put on your coat. They won’t carry handkerchiefs and keep their nails trimmed. They won’t know how to clean and cook and do laundry properly and iron and know which shoes match what outfit – they just won’t know, so don’t expect all guys to be like that. They’re not. Dad is weird.
I’m sure there’s much more I could tell you, but you’re pretty hardheaded and I doubt you’d listen anyway. I will tell you this though: Don’t smoke. Moisturize! Don’t be afraid of being yourself – sounds unbelievably trite, but it’s so true. You’re a really good kid and it’s not a bad thing to be smart. You’re not going to be liked by everyone and that’s OK!!! Don’t hate how you look (your freckles will mostly fade, by the way). Lose your virginity whenever you want, but do it because you really want to do it, not because you’re too embarrassed to say “no”. Don’t be mean to other girls just because your friends are. Accept that it’s okay to have unexpressed thoughts – seriously, try it. Taco Bell is not Mexican food, so stop saying you love Mexican food – you don’t. Wear your glasses when you read. Don’t give up vodka for 7 years because of one stupid night. Don’t be a jerk to boys who approach you, even if they’re not cool. It takes a lot of guts for them, so don’t be a bitch about it. Try shrimp, you’ll like it. Don’t waste 5 years on David S. Go to college and live in the dorms. Don’t be obnoxious in 8th grade Social Studies class. You and Ronda do not want to feel guilty for years that you contributed to your teacher quitting teaching. Oh and very important – when you’re 27, DO NOT sell your Qualcomm stocks!!!!
Love,
Lainey
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Who am I? Who am I? I'm a walrus...
Ok, so why am I doing this? I’ve always enjoyed writing. It’s one of the few things that comes easily to me and that I actually think I’m good at. (Ending the preceding sentence with a preposition notwithstanding.) I’ve heard from several people throughout my life that I write well and that I should pursue it as a career. Yeah, that never really interested me. Lainey Fun Fact #1 – if I have to do something, I don’t want to do it. Ever. Doesn’t matter what it is. If I have to eat 2 Krispy Kreme doughnuts, I don’t want to do it. If I have to make out with a super cute, successful, kind, funny guy– kinda' don’t really want to ( I probably WILL though, I’m not stupid) – also, I think that’s called molestation or coercion or something if I have to do it. Anyway, tangent…sorry, happens a lot though so you may want to get used to it. If I had to write to pay my bills, I would be miserable and living in my car.
So, why am I doing this? I’m not entirely sure, but I think I need a distraction. I think I always need a distraction. I think I need something to replace my last distraction. I think I need something that’s secret and mine. Something I don’t need to defend or explain. Something that I get some degree of satisfaction from, but it doesn’t monopolize my life.
Here’s the hard part though. How much do I share and how much do I keep hidden? If it’s anonymous and no one I know will read it, I should, theoretically, be able to be completely honest and not have to censor myself at all, right? However, if this becomes in any way interactive and I “get to know” readers or other bloggers, then it’s not anonymous anymore even if no one knows my real name or knows me in real life. Such a conundrum. Why must I make even the simplest things difficult? See above: distraction.
So here goes – in “real life”, I’m an open book. I have no filter between my brain and my mouth. If I think it, I say it. This is surprisingly acceptable in my job, which is so weird since I’m in Human Resources. Oddly enough, I can keep stuff about work totally and completely quiet and confidential. I have no interest in (& am prohibited from) talking about other people’s salaries or corrective actions or other work-related drama. But, in my personal life I will tell you anything you want to know and probably many, many, many things you don’t want to know. I tend to overshare. I’m going to try to balance that here. I’d like to be able to be completely honest, but I don’t want to give away details of my personal life that, should we meet on the street someday, you’ll shrink away from me and hope you don’t catch something. That was a joke. Or was it?* Balancing act…
* It was, in fact, a joke. God, I already suck at this intrigue thing…
So, why am I doing this? I’m not entirely sure, but I think I need a distraction. I think I always need a distraction. I think I need something to replace my last distraction. I think I need something that’s secret and mine. Something I don’t need to defend or explain. Something that I get some degree of satisfaction from, but it doesn’t monopolize my life.
Here’s the hard part though. How much do I share and how much do I keep hidden? If it’s anonymous and no one I know will read it, I should, theoretically, be able to be completely honest and not have to censor myself at all, right? However, if this becomes in any way interactive and I “get to know” readers or other bloggers, then it’s not anonymous anymore even if no one knows my real name or knows me in real life. Such a conundrum. Why must I make even the simplest things difficult? See above: distraction.
So here goes – in “real life”, I’m an open book. I have no filter between my brain and my mouth. If I think it, I say it. This is surprisingly acceptable in my job, which is so weird since I’m in Human Resources. Oddly enough, I can keep stuff about work totally and completely quiet and confidential. I have no interest in (& am prohibited from) talking about other people’s salaries or corrective actions or other work-related drama. But, in my personal life I will tell you anything you want to know and probably many, many, many things you don’t want to know. I tend to overshare. I’m going to try to balance that here. I’d like to be able to be completely honest, but I don’t want to give away details of my personal life that, should we meet on the street someday, you’ll shrink away from me and hope you don’t catch something. That was a joke. Or was it?* Balancing act…
* It was, in fact, a joke. God, I already suck at this intrigue thing…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
