When I Grow Up and Get Married, I'm Living Alone!

I am already loving this writing challenge...Rachel, you know me so well!! #feelingfestive 

Day Two: Favorite Holiday Traditions

No matter what craziness has ensued with my family in the past 33 years, no matter where I've lived, who I've lived with, who I've been dating, or where I have celebrated the holiday, one tradition is an absolute must: after Thanksgiving dinner, I pour myself a glass of wine, make popcorn, and watch Home Alone.

It's. My. Favorite.

I love coming home from the family madness, where everyone is loud and the festivities are crazy, to my own quiet corner of the world, curling up and starting the movie. If I am setting up a tree, I tend to do it while watching the movie...but I also don't often get a tree.

This year, I boycotted Thanksgiving (for reasons not worth mentioning). Instead, I took 6 days off work, and I went to the beach, where I watched all of my favorite Christmas movies, ate Grandma Stacey's famous teriyaki chicken wings & asparagus for dinner, and drank at least a bottle of wine each day while reading books in front of the fireplace. It was perfect.

Stacey and Blake joined me on Friday afternoon, and after we spent the day adventuring around, "Black Friday" shopping in Cloverdale's antique mall, and eating a spaghetti dinner, we introduced Blake to the awesomeness that is Kevin McAllister in Home Alone.

This kid.

We made popcorn (and Stacey spilled it).
We made margaritas (and virgin ones for Blake, the salted rim addict).
We turned on the fire (mostly for the cat).
We turned off the lights and snuggled up in our jammies.

And we watched Home Alone.

Blake thought the bad guys were a riot, and watching him watch their antics was pretty entertaining. And while it was not the quiet, peaceful viewing of my favorite movie that I traditionally take in, it was probably my favorite ever.

This year, I had initially been feeling pretty gloomy about spending the Thanksgiving holiday alone. I mean, better alone than with the company I would have had, but still...who wants to be all alone on Thanksgiving?? I didn't have any traditional food - like I said, I had chicken and veggies - nor did I talk to anyone in my family, get dressed up for dinner (didn't even get out of my jammies, in fact), and didn't do any real Black Friday shopping. It potentially could have been a real downer, right?

In the end, though, I loved every minute of it, and could definitely make a solo beach weekend a new Thanksgiving tradition - so long as Stacey and Blake join me for part of it!

What it boils down to, after several years of discussing this in therapy, is that I don't have to go along with every holiday tradition my family has, nor do I have to feel bad about missing them. I need to create my own traditions in order to feel festive and to enjoy the holidays, and they don't have to be big huge events either. I can be (and am) happy just snuggling up with my favorite wine and favorite movies, drinking mimosas and eating bacon & eggs with my mom and dad, and wearing Santa socks & a goofy Christmas tee shirt. It's simply about what makes me happy during the holiday madness.

And what made me happy this year, was sharing my Thanksgiving tradition with my cousin and my favorite little guy.

Dear Santa, Is It Really December?

I need to blog.
Like, it's a literal need.
Remind me on New Years Eve that I made a resolution to write two blogs a week for the whole year.

I need to write.

And I can't thrive if the only things I write are resident violation notices and emails to my boss. #notenoughofanoutlet

Thus...December.

December brings a new blog challenge, hopelessly devoted to the magic of Christmas!!

Day One: Letter to Santa

Dear Santa,
This year has truly flown by; how is it possibly already December?? How are we already thinking about Christmas??

Truth is, I haven't been thinking much about Christmas. I've been distracted by a new job keeping me insanely busy, an upcoming move, and (as always) family drama that just won't seem to die. I've also been wallowing in the gloom and disbelief of a Donald Trump presidential win (I wonder if I'll have my citizenship revoked for that). It's been a tough year, and I am - in all aspects of life - looking forward to the start of 2017.

This year for Christmas, I am simply asking for a little bit more fun in my life.

Okay well technically I am asking for weather-tech floor mats for my car and more Costco shopping trips with my mama, but that's from Mom-Santa.

From you, Santa, I just want the commitment to have more fun. To try more new things. To go on more adventures. To stress less about things that don't really matter in the long run. And to simplify things where I can, to make sure I am having more fun.

Starting this month. I have a full December, with holiday traditions, church dates with my grandma, the orchestra with my mom, a new apartment without any roommates (and therefore, not any pants), and a full 11 days off work between Christmas and New Years...which I intend to make plenty of fun.

Speaking of New Years...Santa, please let me have some fun this New Year's Eve. Not house party fun, but sparkly-dress-and-bright-lipstick, out-all-night, champagne-toast, need-an-uber-driver fun. I have never done a fancy New Year's Eve, and that's what I want to do. Sparkles, champagne, and dancing all night. These are the things I am after, Santa.

This year, in between the routine monotony I seem to have let slink in, I did get to try several new things - all of which were fantastic. I stayed in my first AirBNB, did my first wine tasting, joined my first wine club, traveled to Anchorage where I went on my first fishing excursion and saw my first moose. I attended my first paint night, threw my first surprise party - for my dad, who accidentally helped set it all up, unknowingly - , arranged to attend my first women's march, and signed up for my first regular monthly scheduled donation to Planned Parenthood (because, FUCK YOU, Mike Pence). So it's not like the year was an awful mashup up negativity by any means, but it certainly came crashing downhill with the election last month...I think I lot of women - myself included - are still reeling from it, and feeling a little gloomy.

Side note...Santa, where were you on election day, bro?? Can I ask for a new, less fucking bull shit president for Christmas?

Anyway, so while I had a lot of fun in 2016, I'd like your help, Santa, to ensure it's a better balance in 2017. Less stress, more fun.

Say it with me - less stress, more fun.

Oh and also, please bring me a million dollars, an open-ended plane ticket, a portfolio for my company in Bend so I can move there, a new tattoo (or several), and another season of Gilmore Girls revival.

Merry Christmas Santa!


 

I Like Your Dick in a Box

Last summer, I blogged about the importance of the two-night stand. It was (and is) my belief that since the first time you have sex with someone new tends to me the most awkward and not the best, you should give everyone you bang a second go-around, just to make sure. Because when you have sex with someone you've never been with before, there can be some stumbling and fumbling around, and just a general awkwardness in that you don't know what that person is into...and they likely are unaware of what gets your motor going best as well.

So, I stand by it; if you bang someone once, just go ahead and plan to bang them twice.

What I didn't touch on in that post, that has been the topic of my girls-totally-talk-about-sex-too-much conversations with my girlfriends recently, is that the first time you bang someone also tends to be just like opening a gift on Christmas morning. 

Think about it.

On Christmas, you're really excited about your presents, right? But then aren't there the occasional ugly sweater vests or footed jammies that end up a total let down? Sex for the first time is totally the same. Sex for the first time is exciting and generally much anticipated. Chances are, you've been out a few times (or at least a few hours). There's been flirting and tension, and in this day and age, possibly also some sexting, and it's finally getting to be about that time. You take him back to your place, where you have already stashed condoms within a lustful arm's reach of your bed. If you're smart, there's also lube nearby. You've poured two glasses of wine, the lighting in your apartment is on point, and you're excited because you know he's hot and you can't wait to unwrap him...er...rip his clothes off.

From here, first time sex can go one of two ways. It can be awesome, or it can be disappointing. It can be like when you tear into the Christmas wrapping on a box and discover an iPad or a new computer, or it can be like when you discover socks and pajamas. And no matter the amount of sexual tension leading up to the first time you bone someone, it can still end up a total let down - kind of like the build up of getting some fancy new amazing toy, only to discover that it's a Made in China piece of crap when you get it out of the box. 

Sometimes, the most attractive people, suck in the sack. And sometimes, the people who are a little shy or nervous, end up being the most amazing sex you can ever remember having. There's just no way to tell if someone you fuck is going to fuck you right, until you fuck them. And so by all means, fuck them. They could be the best thing to happen to you since...well, since last Christmas!

And now, I've got Justin Timberlake's "Dick in a Box" running through my head. Merry (belated) Christmas to you all!

Cocaine and Gang Bangs

If you don't already know from prior posts, I work in property management. It's hard. It's emotionally taxing and on some days, physically draining. I currently manage a very demanding building, where I am yelled at daily, cursed at often, and treated very poorly by the people who live here. It's hard. And I've only been here 90 days. In that 90 days I have worked a lot of overtime. A lot. Most of it unpaid, and much of it late at night or on the weekends. So when I managed to get a five-day weekend over Christmas, I was overjoyed. Thank you, calendar, for letting Christmas fall on a Thursday this year!

I took Wednesday through Sunday off for the holiday, and was so glad I did. I spent Wednesday cleaning my much-neglected apartment and rearranging some furniture, mixed with some lounging on the couch and watching movies. I also had my parents and my brother over to have mimosas & snacks and to watch It's a Wonderful Life - that was a lot of fun and very relaxing end to the day. Christmas morning I got up and headed out to my parents, where we did Christmas gifts and breakfast, and then I hit the road for a 4 day vacation in Bend with my best friend. My cousin lives in Bend but was in Portland for the week, so she let us stay at her house, which was ideal and ended up being just awesome!

While in Bend, we were sure to get out of our element and try new things (not cocaine or gang bangs, despite the title of this blog post). Something I have been working on in therapy is branching out of my comfort zone, and part of my goals list for 2015 is to try something new every month this year. Keeping with that, we tried several new, amazing restaurants, slept in late, ate breakfast at noon (or later), and spent a very late night bar hopping with some great guys I went to high school with. We ate greasy bar nachos, did tequila shots and drank cheap beers. All very unlike us, and all very fun. It was a much needed weekend of having nothing to do, no firm plans, no obligations; and it was a reminder that it's okay for the obsessive-compulsive planner in me to just go with the flow and not make a single plan, believing that fun would be had regardless.

And fun was had - all weekend long - despite having not made any plans in advance.

All my life, I have been a planner. I have always worked hard and been responsible. I have always done the same things for holidays, and have always felt guilty when I had to miss things. In looking for ways to make the holidays more enjoyable, I was able to spend some time with my family - both immediate and extended - and still get to spend a long weekend doing what I wanted as well. For the first time in a long time, I felt balance and the holidays felt good. And I didn't have to completely withdraw from my family to feel that either; I was still able to do the lights at Peacock Lane (though let's be honest, that was kind of a fail), got to watch all the Stacey babies open presents, watched classic movies with my mom & dad, and took an obligatory Christmas morning selfie with my brother. At no part of the holiday season did I feel rushed or pressured, I just got to have fun with my family and with my friends.

Spending a long weekend in Bend was relaxing, enjoyable, fun, and a step out of my comfort zone, and I can't wait to go back!

And speaking of stepping out of my comfort zone, I had another long weekend the following week for the New Year holiday, and I took it upon myself to continue the momentum into that weekend as well. I went out on New Years Eve, got drunk, took shots, and danced with a stranger. I stayed out late and slept in late, and I ended the weekend by attending my first Winterhawks hockey game after being given box tickets from a vendor at work. I had a great weekend - even with the hangover - and was so glad I allowed myself to stay out of the office for two long weekends in a row.

Even though my job is hard, and even though it is demanding, I am learning that I am still only required to give it 40 hours of my time each week, and that I am still going to succeed if I leave my to-do list incomplete sometimes. It's the nature of the beast. I don't get paid enough to work off the clock, and I have to let myself have fun on my time off. And for me, weekends away from home, trying something new, catching up with friends I don't see often enough...those are things that are fun. Life is good, and things are exciting...I mean, they're not cocaine-and-gang-bang exciting, but I'm having a good time!

Happy New Year! Ask yourself, what are you going to do to make the year happy?

Fuck Yourself This Christmas

Last I checked, I live in America. Last I checked, America is a free country. I mean, don't get me wrong; I'm not jaded enough to think we live in the best country in the world anymore - there's a lot of fucked up shit going on in America, and I'm sure it'll get worse before it gets better. But whatever your political agenda may be, we can all agree that we are technically, a free people.

Every year, as I scour the shelves for "holiday" cards to send to my residents that do't depict Santa, or show a manger, or have the word God or Blessed in the sentiment, and that don't say Merry Christmas, I get fucking pissed. And this year, while trying to plan a holiday movie night event for the property I work at, as I search through lists of Christmas movies looking for one with no religious Catholic/Christian tones, I am - once again - fucking pissed.

This. Is. Fucking. America.

Since when can I not utter the word Christmas in my office?!

I fucking hate political correctness. Hate it. I hate trying to say Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas "just in case" I offend someone. Guess what - I don't actually give two flying fucks if you are offended! I celebrate Christmas. If I wish you a Merry Christmas, that simply means I am thinking of the season and hope you have a good fucking day. Be a normal person, say thanks, and move the fuck on! If you want to live somewhere that people don't celebrate Christmas, move to - I don't even know...the fucking MOON?! It' Christmas. It's a holiday. I didn't invite you to go to church with me, didn't tell you I'd pray to my Catholic God to try and spare your heathen soul - I simply said, Merry Christmas. Fuck, I don't even go to church. I don't pray. I am pretty much the same heathen you are - so get the fuck over yourself, and stuff your political correctness right up your politically correct ass!

This tirade isn't even really just about Christmas. It's the whole thing. It's the being politically correct in general. I fucking hate it. I don't care about who I offend. I celebrate Christmas, but I wouldn't be offended if I were wished a Hannakuh - I'd just say THANK YOU! It's like when I sneeze and someone says, bless you...I don't tort back that I don't believe in religion. I just say THANKS!

It's the whole fucking thing. It's the people who walk into my office and are mad that I don't speak another language - you know, I had a guy yesterday say, "But your name is Veronica; you should speak Spanish." Oh, okay because that's not a fucking ignorant thing to say?! It's the people who live at my property who argue that they don't have to abide by the rules of their lease because it's in English and they don't speak English (side note, if you don't understand what you are signing, you probably should not fucking sign it). I'm sorry, learn the fucking language of the country you move to. If I moved to Germany, I wouldn't be so fucking ignorant to think I don't need to learn German...I'd fucking learn to speak German! It's the people who are offended by Halloween decorations or Trick-or-Treaters, or who are mad our office is closed on Easter Sunday. You know what? Fuck off. I don't care that you don't celebrate Halloween; I don't get mad at you about it. Don't try to ruin my good time. I don't show up outside of a Catholic church every Sunday morning with a picket sign because I don't believe the Catholic church's pro-life agenda - I just don't. fucking. go. You don't want to see kids in Halloween costumes? Stay home. Keep your kid home from school for the day. You don't want to see anything Christmas related? Blindfold yourself from October through January and get the fuck over it. You live in America, where Christmas is a commercial holiday, and you're going to have to grow some and deal with it.

And then don't be mad when I send you a Christmas card with the sentiment "fuck yourself" scribbled in it. Because by the time I am ready to write my Christmas cards, I am already just fucking pissed that I had to dig for one that was written in six languages, that also didn't have a picture of Santa or an elf or a reindeer or a present or a stocking on it, and that didn't say Merry Christmas inside, and that basically was a plain white, blank sheet of paper, on which I can write nothing but "fuck yourself this Christmas."