Tuesday, October 10, 2017

I Can't Help It, I'm a Leo

Day Three: Your Zodiac Sign...Does it Fit Your Personality? 


I read this today: A Leo woman is like a kitten, and kittens are always very playful. She'll tease you with innocuous comments or actions, and laugh with all her might whenever she wants to. Little things will make her laugh out loud. She has a great sense of humor, and she is really funny and outgoing. She has a great ability to completely shift moods. She will always try to bring a smile to your face, and most of the time she will succeed. 

I mean, I definitely think I'm funny, yes. And I will always try to change someone's mood by making them laugh, yes. I am not great in a crisis, but I can certainly make you laugh when you're ready to do so!

Leo women are fiery characters and there is always a lot of enthusiasm linked to their personality. There are no half measures for them. Their loyalty knows no bounds. They will stick with you as long as they can, and love you with endless devotion. They are cheery and optimistic and highly determined to tackle the different phases of life. They do not show signs of vulnerability to people around them, and no matter what they harbor inside - whether it is pain or sorrow - they will always be determined to not only fight the world but also nullify the sadness within. Leo women have a thick exterior but are fragile on the inside. Little things do hurt her. On the flip side, she will always notice your small gestures.

Definitely true. Little things often hurt more than big things, in fact. And on the opposite end of the spectrum, I always notice the little things someone does - like make my bed, cuddle with Juno, loan me a sweatshirt when I'm cold, or text me some kissy-face emojis. Little things are absolutely the most important to me, and are absolutely what ends up hurting the most.

Leo women also have a lot of expectations in a relationship. If they are providing you with prolific amounts of love and affection and loyalty, hey will expect the same from you. Leo women love men who are hopeless romantics. If you write what you feel for her - or even text it to her - her heart will melt and she'll get butterflies in her stomach. She will save these messages or texts and read them when she is alone or wants to feel good, and it will always remind her of someone who loves her and cares for her.

I mean, I save basically every single message anyone ever sends me that isn't about work. I have a million saved little Blake voice mails in my inbox, and I screen shot texts that make my heart melt so I don't accidentally delete them. Soo...true.


My sign absolutely fits my personality - I mean, I think in general most people's signs line up with their personalities. You can't argue with the signs, right?

In my experience, the general perception of a Leo is a lot of bold behavior - strong personality, aggression, fierce emotion, loud reactions to things. Leos are also rumored to be overly confident, pushy, cocky, and overzealous. We are labeled as unforgiving, bossy, controlling, and maybe a little to forward. What tends to get left off the table with Leos, is that a lot of that overly confident, bold demeanor, is a facade that hides a lot of insecurity that we don't like to admit (or even acknowledge).

Leos are inherently insecure. We can't help it. I read something a few days ago that said a Leo's biggest fear is loving someone more than they are loved in return. This is 100% one of the most accurate things I've ever read about myself in a horoscope. And I believe it to be true for most Leos I know as well, actually. This is true for me of all relationships...whether it be with my family, my friendships, or my romantic relationships, I want to feel as important to someone, as they are to me. And where that gets me into trouble, is that because I am a Leo, I do feel my emotions very strongly - I love hard, and I want to be loved hard in return. And because I am a Leo and I naturally feel all of my emotions fiercely, I do sometimes struggle with feeling loved back - because not everyone feels their emotions as loudly as Leos do.


I have always thought that my personality lined up with my Zodiac sign because I do tend to be all of the things a Leo is known to be - bold, fierce, confident, and the center of attention. But the more I read about it lately, the more I think it's deeper than that. I think it's fascinating to read about, and interesting to read things about myself based only on my birthday...especially when they're so spot on.



Monday, October 9, 2017

Why is Called a Pet Peeve Anyway?

Day Two: Your Top Five Pet Peeves


It seems appropriate to follow up the ten things that make me happiest, with a list of things that annoy the shitout of me, right? I think so, yes.


Pet peeve number one: People who stand too close to me in line. Back the fuck up please, seriously. I have actually written a blog about this before, and it still rings true – get the fuck out of my personal space! If I can feel you breathing on me, you are too close to me. If I can swing my shopping basket and smack you with it, you are too close to me. If I can hear you chewing or exhaling or just existing in general, you are too fucking close to me! Move!! No one is getting out of the store any faster just because you climb up my ass and hang out there. I like my bubble, and I need you to just fucking stay out of it.

Unless I am dating you or you’re my best friend, in which case I literally cannot get physically close enough to you.

Pet peeve number two: People who let their dogs jump all over you and use “he’s friendly” as their excuse. First of all, friendly does not mean jumping on me, slobbering all over the place, or humping my leg. Second, if he’s friendly, why am I staring at so many teeth? And third, I don’t care if your dog is a cartoon character, I still don’t want it jumping on me. I don’t like your dog.

Pet peeve number three: When people stop texting in the middle of a conversation. I mean, I am definitely guilty of falling asleep in the middle of a late night text marathon, and I can’t count the number of times I have forgotten to respond to something I opened at work and then got too busy to immediately respond to, but like, where are these people going when in the middle of talking about something they just stop? And like three days later, I’m still waiting for the punch line. I don’t get it. Would you walk away from someone who was talking to you and just never come back? Finish your thoughts, people. Say goodnight or goodbye like normal human adults.


Pet peeve number four: Poor grammar. I hate it.

Pet peeve number five: People who make excuses for other people’s shitty behavior. Your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/mom/dad/sibling is an ass hole. Don’t make an excuse on their behalf! Let them fall on their face like they deserve! We’re already judging you for associating with a sociopath; don’t make it worse by clarifying that you do see what we see and are actually okay with it. Pretend you don’t even notice their shitty comments, poor social skills, or shitty personality. Don’t make a feeble attempt at getting us to just tolerate the insanity because you can. We can’t. We don’t like people who behave like shitty shitheads in public. And now we don’t like you that much either, because you brought a shitty human to the party and basically acknowledged it while begging our acceptance – or tolerance, at the very least.

No. I don’t want to party with your shitty other half.




It was far too easy to compile this list, by the way. I may have a short fuse, I can’t be sure. What I can say for sure is that little things can be really agitating. I need a beer after spending time considering all of life’s little annoyances… 

Friday, October 6, 2017

Is That a New Blog, Or Are You Just Happy to See Me??

Somehow I have managed to not write a blog in 10 months.
I blame Donald Trump, obviously.

In reality, 2017 has simply flown by, and I'm really not sure how it's even possible that we've already gotten to October. It's been a big year with a lot of change - some expected, some unexpected, but definitely all for the better.

It has also been one in which I've experienced a lot of stress. And anyone who has followed my blog in the past several years, is well aware of how much of a stress relief writing is for me. So following a conversation with my mom last week about stress, chaos, and craziness, it occurred to me I should probably get my shit together.


So here I am.
30 Day October Blog Challenge.
Technically a combination of three different writing challenges, because I can't decide or commit to just one. And some of the prompts - like, what did you eat today - are stupid.

Starting six days late, so there's that.

Day One: List Ten Things That Make You Really Happy. 


1. An organized refrigerator. Sometimes it's about the small things. I love when my fridge is clean and organized, when labels are faced front, and when all my veggies are chopped and portioned into matching tupperware containers. I realize that this is insane, but I don't care. Happiness is a clean, OCD-type fridge. With that lunch meat drawer stocked full of Tillamook black pepper cheese sticks, obviously.

2. Drinking wine on Rachel's front porch. I think this goes without saying that I love my friends, and I love wine. I also love porches. A big, wrap-around front porch with a lawn to mow is literally my only motivation in life to purchase a home, and Rachel's porch in Battle Ground is pretty close to perfection for me.

3. Starting a new book. Any book. Especially one that is so good I do literally nothing for 3 days but lay under a blanket reading obsessively.

4. Getting voice mails from Blake. This week, he called and left me a message that said, "Hi Auntie. I want to take my Corona fridge to school for show and tell, but my mom won't let me because she says it is inappropriate." I have listened to it ten times, and I wish I could make it my ring tone.

5. The beach. Duh. This one goes without saying, but the beach is my happy place. Whether I am there for a day, a week, just an overnight, it's never enough time but also always the perfect amount of time. Whether it's winter, spring, summer, or fall, stormy or windy, sunny or blistering hot, it's perfection every time. I wish I could live there. And not work, just read books in my jammies drinking wine in front of a fireplace with all the windows open. Nothing better.

6. Being the little spoon. I. Love. To. Snuggle. Snuggling is my absolute favorite, and it's even better when the person snuggling you also loves to snuggle. And when they don't snore. I like to feel someone's hot breath in my ear, and I like it when my neck just fits in the space between someone's neck and shoulders. I especially love to snuggle when it's cold in the morning, and when Juno is laying at the foot of the bed on my feet, or between us in the pit of my knees. And for some reason, it's best when it's Sunday morning.


7. Grown up time with my friends. I am definitely in the minority now with no kids of my own. And don't get me wrong, I like to hang out with my friends and their little ones. But I'm also not a bull shitter, and I like even more to hang out with my friends while their little ones stay home with their dads. I like to drink wine and use cuss words. I like to drink champagne and talk about sex, or watch scary movies, or just have a conversation without being interrupted by small children asking questions or needing to pee. And again, I love your kids. I just don't like them as much as you do. So leave them home every once in a while so I can get you drunk like you deserve. After all, parenting is hard (or so I hear).

8. My birthday. Birthdays are a reason to celebrate, regardless of age. Just because you're not a little kid, doesn't mean you no longer have reason to enjoy yourself and eat cake! Bad shit happens in life, and the simple fact that you are alive another 365 days, honestly, is means to have a party. I will never let my birthday pass by without doing something outside of my daily routine. And the same goes for other people - YOUR birthday is equally as important as mine is, and I'll surely celebrate it. Even if you don't want to.


9. Receiving unexpected flowers. Duh. I'm such a girl on this one. Being thought of makes me happy. Being unexpectedly thought of a little extra makes me a little extra happy. And something about flowers being dropped off, makes me feel even more thought of.

10. Loud music. In the car especially, or while cleaning my apartment. Most any genre of music will satisfy the bug, but loud is definitely necessary.



Monday, January 30, 2017

Grab Politics by the Pussy

I have started this blog at least five times.

And by five, I mean ten. At least ten.

And I keep hitting delete because I don't want to fight with my friends. And because I know that we don't all agree. And because I know I feel passionately about the issue, and so do some of them. And actually also because it annoys me that some of them don't feel passionately about the issue; I find it annoying that anyone can be choosing to "stay out of it" at this point.


But mostly because when I even see on Facebook that someone I know "liked" any pro-Trump article, meme, ecard, quote, it infuriates me. When I see that I have mutual friends with the Donald J. Trump Facebook page, I want to literally barf.

I never realized that I could lose friends over politics.

Taking a step back, I never realized that I cared enough about politics to surrender friendships. That seems so insane! I have never even cared about politics. I've barely ever even voted. I don't read or research or watch the news. I don't know facts or stats, and I have never really bothered to find out. So the thought that I could be willing to go head to head, blow for blow, with my own friends...I found really baffling.

Until I started thinking about it.

This is not about winning and losing, by the way. This is not about Clinton versus Trump. This is not my bruised ego or my frustration over my candidate losing the election. I am not a liberal crybaby who needs to be coddled. I am not a Hillary fanatic who can't get the loss out of my head. It's not about any of that. 

This is not about anything other than clear right and wrong.

I would never terminate relationships in my life over a fair, routine, well-run, fair-fought election where I voted for Clinton and my friends voted for Trump. I didn't end any relationships when I voted for Kerry and my friends voted for Bush. I didn't fight with them or get into heated debates, and I didn't look at their Facebook MySpace posts and find myself appalled that I was friends with them.

I would never terminate relationships in my life over a regular election, where both candidates were normal, sane, level headed humans with the best interest of the country in mind in their campaign.

This year has proven, though, that I will terminate relationships in my life when they support insane, evil, horrid rotten candidates, and when they continue to support evil, horrid rotten elected presidents.

Donald Trump is not a normal, sane, level headed human.
Donald Trump does not have the country's best interest in mind.
Donald Trump is evil.
Donald Trump is a horrid rotten president, and he was a horrid rotten candidate.


Donald Trump has only been the president for 11 days. ELEVEN. And in those 11 days, he has signed more executive orders than I can count. He has fired people because they speak out against his insane policy. He has promised his Supreme Court selection will fight to overturn Roe V. Wade. He has separated immigrants from their families, and he's attempted to ban refugees, which is a violation of our Constitution. He has placed unqualified, inept fools in cabinet positions they cannot possibly do well in. He has gone to war with the media.

He has done so much fucked up shit in the past week and a half, I can't even remember all of it to list! He has behaved so poorly, isolated so many people, so many groups, he has proven so loudly that he is an unfit, idiotic, narcissistic maniac, that I literally cannot read the news fast enough to know what I am protesting anymore!

In only 11 days, Donald Trump has managed to take steps backwards for women. For minorities. For healthcare. For immigration. For refugees. For our safety in this country. For the LGBTQ community. For education. For homeland security. For the environment. For national parks. For science. For LITERALLY EVERYFUCKINGTHING!!!


In his first 11 days, an entire gender has shown up to protest Trump's misogyny, in groups of hundreds of thousands of people. On all seven continents, I might add. In his first 11 days, we've shown up to protest Trump's unconstitutional immigration ban at airports across the country. In his first 11 days, Donald Trump is already being sued by individual states who can see that his bull shit is not only deplorable and unethical, but absolutely illegal.

I never thought I could lose friends because of politics. I really never did. I am a very left-leaning liberal, and I have very liberal views - but I have never unfriended anyone (on Facebook or in real life) for being pro-life, or for being conservative, or for leaning right. I've always been passionate about my pro-choice platform, but other than that I don't tend to stand up and fight on political issues.

But I showed up with 500,000 of my closest friends in the pouring rain on Trump's first full day in office, donning pink knee high socks and purple shorts and my "pussy grabs back" hoodie, carrying signs I made for my group, screaming chants - because I finally found reason to stand up and fight.


I hope to God that at some point in the past 11 days with this egomaniac in office, you have found a reason of your own to stand up and fight. A reason to make a sign. A reason to stop and think. I hope that in the past 11 days, you have been able to stop seeing this as a Hillary versus Trump, democrat versus republican battle, because that is not what this is. This is not me against you, or us against them. This fight is our country against a maniacal would-be dictator. If you've not found any single thing that Trump has done in the past 11 days that you find to be so unforgivably wrong that you need to scream it from the rooftops and show up somewhere to protest the insanity, then there is something seriously wrong with you.

If you voted for Trump because you thought he had good business ideas, fine.
If you voted for him because you support tougher laws on immigration, or stricter policies for homeland security, fine.\If you voted for him because you really believed he could create jobs and do right by the middle class, fine.
If you voted for him because you hate Hillary, fine.

If you voted for him because he said pussy on TV, called Clinton a nasty woman, and used the term 'bad hombre' in a debate, I mean...I guess, fine. Gross, childish, and idiotic...but fine.


But if you voted for Trump (whatever your reason) and you're still genuinely supporting him and his policies now - after these shameful, vile, illegal and disgraceful first 11 days as president, I no longer have any respect for you.

As a friend.
As a person.
And quite seriously, as an American.

#notmypresident



Sunday, January 8, 2017

Did You Know Fat-Shaming Makes You Fat?

At this time every year, gyms everywhere flood with "resolutioners" - the people who promise themselves every January to get in shape, lose weight, bulk up, move more, blah, blah, blah. It annoys everyone who goes to the gym regularly all year long. They pop up on Facebook complaining about the gym being crowded, the parking lot being crowded, and people in their way who don't know what they're doing.


The biggest complaint is that, come February, these people will have disappeared anyway, so just stop wasting all this time in January. Get out of the way and let me do my work out.

And then there are the extremists, who secretly video tape and then publicly fat shame, the people who are suuuuuuuch ass holes, taking up all the time, energy, air, and space in the gym. We have all seen these videos on Snap Chat, Instagram, and Facebook - one of your friends sees someone using equipment wrong, moving slowly, even showering and/or changing clothes in the locker room.

WHAT THE FUCK?!

First, let it be known that if I saw a stranger videotaping me IN THE SHOWER in a locker room, their gym rat ass would be in jail.


But that's not the point of this blog.

My point is, people have a hard enough time getting to the gym - especially if they are new - without having to be fearful of the long-time fitness gurus standing behind them with a camera, or even just standing behind them, being judgmental as fuck.

Argument from Arrogant Gym-Goers #1: These people are only here to get in my way for a month; they're not serious and won't even be here next month...so just go away now.

What if 2017 is the year that they DO become serious? What if this year, they are committed to their health and fitness, and they WILL be here in February, and in March? What if they just got a major health diagnosis and are now taking life and health seriously? You don't know this person; you don't know their history or their present or their future, and maybe this year is going to be the year they make huge strides towards fitness.

Also, what if they are gone in a month? Does it really affect your life? You had to park in the back of the lot? Boo. Fucking. Hoo. You're here for a workout anyway, thank them for the extra 30 steps.

Argument from Arrogant Gym-Goers #2: These newbies don't know how to use the equipment. They're doing it wrong/getting in my way/lifting too much/not lifting enough/their form sucks/they're taking too long.

Well, fuck you, for one. And for two, when you first started working out, did you know how to use every piece of equipment, or all the right form or lifting techniques, or how to do every single thing in the most effective way? No you did not. So get off your high horse. The gym is hard. A lot of equipment at the gym is hard if you've never used it, and that's intimidating...ESPECIALLY WITH A CLEARLY SEASONED PERSON STANDING THERE JUDGING YOU!! Instead of being a dick, what if you approached someone in a nice way and asked if you could show them a better form? Or what if you were like, hey, can I show you something that'll let you do half the work for double the results? Maybe you could just stop wasting your own workout time shaming a stranger - or did I miss a memo somewhere that it burns extra calories to judge someone trying to better themselves?

What would be great, is if fat-shaming other people, made YOU fat.


The gym has always been intimidating to me. Whether I am going to a couple classes a month, or whether I am there every night doing cardio and weights, I have always been uncomfortable in large gyms. I hate working out in front of other people. I don't like taking classes that are new to me and routine to 20 other people. I don't like jogging slowly on a high incline on the treadmill while the girl next to me is sprinting, because it makes me feel slow as fuck - even though I am on a higher incline and probably have different goals than she does. I don't like using machinery at the gym when people are waiting, or when people are watching - because I assume I'm doing all of it wrong. I don't like lifting free weights in front of anyone lifting heavier weights or more reps, because it makes me feel like a weakling. I really do just hate to be at the gym - but none of the reasons I hate the gym are about my own health or fitness, or my own journey - they are all related to other people.

And that is probably because such a mass population of people in the gym are spending their time judging me instead of working out!!


Take your fucking eyes off of me, and focus on yourself. You're here for your journey, and I am here for mine, and there is no reason for you to believe that my journey means I'm in your way. Don't put my ass on your snap story because you think I'm running too slowly on the treadmill - because at least I'm here, and at least I'm running. Perhaps if you would stop watching me and put your damn phone down, you'd be able to pick your own pace up a little bit too!

#endrant.






Tuesday, January 3, 2017

2017. Coming to You Live on January 9th.

2017 started with a bang.

Quite literally.

On Monday morning, at about 4:30am - after finally dozing off somewhere around 3:30 listening to my nightmarish upstairs neighbors and their dogs run and jump and bark and play drums and smoke and be fucking obnoxious fucking ass holes - I fell out of bed.

Out. Of. Bed.

I fucking fell out of my bed like a toddler sleeping in a big-kid bed for the first time ever, smacking my forehead on the nightstand drawer, which I had lazily left slightly open, landing on my arm, which has now been sore for 48 hours. And this was how I woke up on January 2, 2017.

Great.


After I fell out of bed, I slept for about 30 more minutes before it occurred to me no later than 6:00 in the fucking morning that thanks to the aforementioned ass holes living above me, I wasn't getting any more sleep. So I got up and took my time getting ready for work. (For the record, I have to be at work by 9:00, so I usually get up between 8:00 and 8:40, depending on whether or not it's the one day out of every five to twelve that I commit to actually washing my hair.)

Instead I'm up at 6 fucking o'clock. And you bet your ass I BLASTED Pandora the entire 3 hours. Fuck you, upstairs neighbor. Wake your shit asses up, and enjoy the sweet, sweet sound of Bryce Fox on volume level ear-piercing.

I was then in my office by 8:00 in the morning, I spent the next 8 hours getting bitched at because you know, people are surprised every single month when they have to pay their rent, and somehow the fact that they can't afford their apartment or got in a fight with their roommate or broke up with their boyfriend, is my fault. Well, sure, that does make sense. My bad. I then left work, went to Costco with my mom, where literally everyone on Earth was shopping with their bratty-ass children who were acting like feral cats, and their stupid husbands who were too bored to pay attention to the fact that they were standing in the middle of the aisle with their thumb up their ass, and their dog.

Side note: DON'T TAKE YOUR DOG TO COSTCO YOU STUPID MOTHER-FUCKER!

On Monday, because I didn't get any sleep at all on Sunday night, I came home from Costco, had saltine crackers and peanut butter for dinner. and went to bed.

I'm awesome.


Today I got up at 8:45, because I didn't have to wash my hair, and got to work where I was literally told to fuck myself (side note, YOU fuck YOURSELF, you dumb twat) four times - again because people forget that I am not in charge of managing their finances or their lives or their abilities to be a human. And then I came home and had popcorn for dinner, because I have had such a shit-ass two days at work I don't dare go to the grocery store for anything adults eat for dinner, and am sitting on my couch at 8:00pm, watching a Jim Jeffries comedy special in a fluffy bathrobe, drinking a Corona and considering just going to bed.

Of course I am really busy reading insane messages sent to me by desperately horny, unattractive, possibly-single-but-probably-married, dick-pic-sending, perverted freaks on Plenty of Fish, so I'll probably stay up for a while. These dudes do make me laugh, if nothing else.

In short, 2017 has not made it easy thus far, for me to maintain my resolution of being fucking amazingly positive about all things.

It's not easy to resolve to be positive when people are screaming at you to fuck yourself.
Especially since you're supposedly paid to listen politely as they do so (side note, I will absolutely not be tolerating bull shit behavior from anyone in my life this year, and that does include residents).

It's not easy to resolve to be positive when you're sleep deprived.

it's not easy to be positive when you haven't been to the grocery store like an adult and are now consuming food that is in direct violation of the health and fitness resolutions you made less than 72 hours ago.

It's definitely not easy to resolve to be positive when you fall out of your god damn bed the first morning of the new year!

And so I have adjusted my resolution slightly. I'm an adult, and I can do that.


I have resolved that I will start my new year on Monday, January 9th. Because you know what? Rent week is not a good week in property management. And the rent week following Christmas is quite possibly the WORST week of all time in the entire career of property managers. So I am not going to set myself up to fail, plain and simple. For me, the next six days are still 2016. They don't count. My new year is the property management new year, which officially begins the Sunday evening following the first rent week of the new year.

Beginning on Monday, I will have gone to the grocery store. I will have located and charged my FitBit. I will have bought enough water to stay hydrated. I'll be ready for my exercise, and I'll be ready to not eat M&Ms for lunch as I try to not stab someone who is calling me names because they owe a late fee.

Beginning on Monday, I will have cleaned my apartment and done the dishes, and will have addressed my issues with my upstairs neighbor like a grown up instead of by blaring Pandora in their ears for three hours. I will have updated my address and forwarded my mail and done all my laundry. I will be fully adult on Monday.


I have already resolved that 2017 will be a positive, awesome, fantastic fucking year, where I go after my goals and crush every last one of them. It just so happens, that I know I can't do that, this week. Fuck this week.

Lesson: It doesn't really matter if you fall, as long as you get back up.

2017. I'm still winning. I'm just a week late to the game.

Sunday, January 1, 2017

2017 is for Tacos and Stand-Up

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I am a New Year's Resolution girl. I like reflection. I like thought. I like goals, both setting and achieving. I like resolutions. I make and break resolutions. I just really enjoy the feeling of the new year...a seemingly fresh start, blank slate, empty canvas.

2016 was a real bitch

I should have known it would be - it started with finding out the guy I was dating was both in the hospital and also not as single as I believed him to be (fucker). When you text the guy you've been dating for 10 months at midnight, saying happy new year and you wish he was there with you instead of at home alone, not feeling well, and then at 2:00 in the morning you get a text back that says how about you don't text my boyfriend like that...you should just know, this year may not be the winner.

Clearly I should have anticipated all of the celebrity deaths and Donald Trump's win.

Anyway, as I said, 2016 was a bitch - in many, many ways.


However, 2016 was also full of a lot of excitement, fun, and positive vibes - it wasn't all bad.

Things that were fantastic in 2016:
* MCP sold and I got the fuck off the property just in time to not have a legitimate mental breakdown.
* I lived with my best friend for six months, and at the end of it we were still best friends. The same cannot be said for our cats, who were not - and are not - friends.
* I rented her room to a really great roommate for the second half of the year - the best part was how much of the rent he paid so I was able to trade in my pickup for a band new car.
* Work advancement. Always exciting.
* I spent a lot of time with my grandma and didn't have to see anyone else in my family in order to do so. More importantly, I finally came to a place where I was at peace with the loss of the family I had, and have been able to accept the lack of relationships I have left.
* I moved into my own apartment, not on a rent discount, not on the property I work at, and on a real lease...for the first time in a long time. And I basically haven't worn pants since I got the keys.
* I spent Thanksgiving at the beach, boycotting - and hanging out with my two favorite people, Stace and Blake.
* I went to the beach several times, and also to Bend. And also to Arizona and Las Vegas, and even Alaska!
* My best friend got pregnant. And I got to go to her ultrasound last week...and hear baby's healthy, happy little heart beat.
* I didn't get pregnant.
* The sex was good.
* In the name of not letting Donald Baby Hands Trump run my life, I learned a lot about politics. Even though it infuriated me, I like that I have a lot of knowledge now.
* I had a lot of work-life balance, which I haven't had in a few years. It was like I had a life outside of property management!
* Juno...well, just her existence in general.

I spent the last week of 2016 on vacation, which is always a fantastic idea. I had a lot of lazy days, slept in, hung out with friends, and even did some adulting - mostly though, I was lazy. Yesterday was a fun end to 2016 - I slept in and ran a few errands, bought a fantastic set of chairs and yellow side table, and deep cleaned my apartment before it was time to go out and ring in 2017. Somewhere in there I also spent an insane amount of time trying to get my 2016 memories out of my memory jar so I can reuse the jar for 2017...when I made the jar, I didn't pay enough attention to how tiny the neck was, so getting the papers out involved chopsticks, tweezers, scissors, and tape. But I did it! Juliana and Patrick came over later in the evening, and we had champagne in my fancy new champagne flutes - for which I paid 3 bucks at Home Goods (woot). The plan was to each have a glass, so of course instead we went through two bottles. We started the night with appetizers and shuffleboard at Brickhouse with Eric and Kattie, then they dropped us off at Main Event, where we spent the rest of the night drinking, taking shots (okay well that was just me), dancing, and hanging out with strangers. There were of course a couple creepy dudes in the crowd - someone actually snapped my bra, which was interesting - but overall it was a fun crowd with a great vibe, and everyone had a lot of fun. We even met several really nice girls, which is always a surprise since girls are, you know, nasty bitches just in general. There was a girl there with mermaid blue and purple hair...I don't know her name, but I gave her my number. Because, well, because tequila.

After midnight but before 2:00, we got an Uber back to my place, where I promptly threw up a few times, shed my clothes throughout the apartment (as I always do when I'm drunk), and fell asleep, phone in hand, after discussing my future Panda Express order via text message with a fella.

I know, I know...I'm so awesome, I just can't even explain it.
Oh hey, you're a cool guy...wanna know what I plan to order to cure the hangover I will definitely have tomorrow??
Mmm, string bean chicken and half chow mein, half white rice. I can't wait.

This is certainly unrelated to why I'm single.

Because I am feeling blissfully positive about 2017, I am choosing to believe that he found it charming. Obviously.

As I've said before, I love the beginning of a new year...even though I hate hangovers. I like reflecting on my prior year, and I like making plans for the upcoming 365 days. I try to keep things open-ended and not too strict, because why make impossible resolutions?? Like, here's a list of ways to let myself down this year! Instead I try to make resolutions I can actually stick to and win with.


The only definitive (read: numbers) goal I am setting for 2017 is helping Juno lose 2 pounds. She's ridiculous, and it's so cute that she's fat, but I do want her to be healthy, and I do not want her to get diabetes. So far she's on a food that costs me like $1000 a year because it's made out of solid gold, but we're working on her moving more, just in general. She is always hungry, so I make her do a couple laps up and down the hallway before I set her dish down - yes, seriously. It's funny for me, and I think it counts as cardio for her, considering how aggressively she runs at food.

I'm still thinking about what specifics I want to focus on for the year - normally I'd spend the first nursing my hangover and writing down my resolutions while eating my Panda Express. But today I was distracted by discovering stand up comedy on Netflix and watching a movie with the aforementioned dude who understood my passion for string bean chicken.


But in general, I have some things to focus on related to health and fitness, financial stability, work-life balance, and career growth - as well as just an overall desire to meet more people and enjoy my time more. I made a point this year to try new things more often - and I feel like I did a good job overall; I want to do more of that, obviously.

And also, to eat more tacos and definitely watch more stand up comedy.








Friday, December 30, 2016

Car Dance Your Ass Off

Day Four: A song that reminds you of your best friend.

One one of our many adventures back from Bend, Kattie and I sat in traffic.

Not a little traffic.

HOURS of traffic.

So much traffic, I almost peed my pants at some point. There was snow in the mountain, and people apparently just lost their mind, and maybe there was a wreck or two or three, but we literally took like six hours to get home from Bend.

And on the drive, Jason Derulo saved us from certain insanity with his sexy voice and even sexier album cover (side note, where are the fellas with a face like his) - and I think we listened to this song 15 times, easy.


We've taken several trips to Bend, and it is always a very different adventure. We've gone there to party at dive bars and eat insane piles of nachos. We've gone there for wine tastings and shopping. We've gone there to read, relax, shop, hike, drink, and adventure. And it's always the very best.

Clearly the best part is the relationship she and I have with Jason Derulo, who we cannot help but sing along to while car dancing in the snow, attempting to forget about how bad traffic is or how badly we have to pee.

When Words Fail, Music Speaks

Day Three: A song that calms you down

There are many, many versions of this song - and I love every single one of them. My assistant manager just said the other day "oh my god this is always on your Pandora!"

Guilty.


This song calms me down. Calms my frantic mind, relaxes my brain, and levels my soul. Whether it;s Leonard Cohen, Billy Currington, Pentatonix, Kate Voegle, or even Shrek, this song always speaks to me. Always makes me close my eyes and breathe deep, just makes me take a moment and chill.

And I think we all know how hard it is for me to ever take moments and chill.

Tuesday, December 27, 2016

A Lid For Every Perverted Pot

So, because I was feeling too confident and secure in my life, I'm now online dating.

And by online dating, I do in fact mean I am online, being solicited for sex and blow jobs, turning down dates with creeps who I then have to block from contacting me.

It's so romantic!


After complaining one too many times about not ever meeting anyone I am "allowed" to date (because in the course of my day, I spend time with my employees, my residents, and my vendors, all of whom are on the naughty list), I was encouraged to give the online thing a try (because God forbid any of my friends know any handsome, independent, normal guys to set a girl up with).

Okay fine. I mean I do not want to at all, but I'll give it a go. So I spent yesterday afternoon creating an account and a profile, and resolved to give it a real opportunity to surprise me.

No surprise at all.

It is, of course, going basically like the shit show you'd expect from thousands of single, horny dudes without a filter to control them.


In my first 12 hours, I received no fewer than 100 emails. Approximately 80% of them contained at least one of the following:
"Hi." And then nothing else. I equate this to approaching someone, saying hi, and then just awkwardly staring at them, blinking.
"You're pretty/hot/gorgeous/bangin'/sexy" (okay I admit I liked the one who called me bangin').
"Wanna get a drink this week?" (can I get your name please, like, you could really be an axe murderer)
"Do you like to give head?" (not to you, bro!)
"Wanna chat?" (isn't that why I'm on this bull shit website?)

I also got two messages from chicks, who apparently are dumb as rocks, since I very clearly stated woman...looking for a man. Nice rack though, I'll give you that. And honestly, after the guy who said he wanted to bang my head against the headboard while he spanked me, I might actually go for it...and these girls probably knew I was feeling that way. So actually, a genius move!


Online dating truly blows me away. Like, would you ever approach a woman in a bar and whip your dick out?

No?

Then don't email a dick pic!

Would you walk up to a woman at the gym and ask for a blow job?

No?

Then don't lead your message with, "girl, you look like you like to suck dick."

HAS ANY OF THIS EVER WORKED FOR YOU!???

A guy messages me last night, and says hi...he's cute, so I say hi back.
And that's where I went wrong, obviously.
He then says, "I'm a dominant guy and I like to take charge."
Umm okay...my dumb ass asks what he means by that.
"It means I'd like to spank you hard and bang your head against my headboard while you suck my dick."
Oh. Well of course that was what you meant.

Block.

But seriously...what?!

Has this ever worked for you in real life? NO. That's why you're on this website, trolling women, getting blocked left and right. And what's sad is I bet you sit at the bar with your buddies, bitching and whining about how these dumb bitches online just won't give you a chance. I mean, we might...if you'd put it back in your pants and chill for a fucking second. I really thought this guy was attractive...that is, until he started typing words! Like, you're cute, but please don't speak.


I have now figured out (in only a few hours) how online dating works for nice-ish guys:

Women are bombarded with perverted, dirty, creepy fuckers asking us how sloppy we like our blow jobs, how big our tits are, and whether we're down with three-ways...so then when we get a message from an even halfway normal guy who we may not be attracted to, or who may misspell all his words, or who may be super boring, we're like YES I HAVE FOUND THE ONE!! It's not even about love or connection; it's just about pure relief, and the thought that we may be able to disable our profile for the love of God before someone else emails us.

Smell the desperation working for the boring guys who are only slightly intelligent but at least smart enough to not start a conversation with "here's my dick."

Like, I'm just happy you didn't ask me if I like it in the ass, so yes, I'll marry you. What was your name again though?

And that is really how I think it works. I spent a painful hour and a half emailing a guy who I was bored by, and also judging for misusing your/you're, thinking - oh my God just let this guy be nice and I'll seriously be his girlfriend if only to log out of this fucking shit! Nice, boring, kinda dumb...for the win.


I was forwarding screen shots of these insane messages to my mom and cousin last night, telling them how amused I was...because really, how can you not just laugh when a stranger asks you how often you masturbate...and my mom was like, this would just piss me off so bad. But like, why? It's hilariously pathetic, and the block feature is awesome. I have literally been on this site for 18 hours and have blocked somewhere in the 40-50 range of seriously demented douche bags who apparently think online is the place to get a rim job from a stranger.

I mean, that does happen online, but I don't think this is the site for you, man...try Tumblr.

While I was chatting with someone else last night, I received three emails between 12:00 and 12:15am, all three asking for sex, pretty explicitly. I told the guy I was talking to that midnight felt very much like last call, where guys are stumbling around drunk, just grabbing onto any chick who walks by, willing to literally fuck anything and anyone. I said I needed to log out before I started being virtually groped, and he replied with a pretty smart remark about how much it must suck to be a chick.


For fucking real, bro.

I bet no one has asked him how big his dick is today.