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.

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.

Never Ever, Ever

Day Two: A song that reminds you of one/both of your parents.

My mom is a music fool, and she likes all music. Literally all of it. My mom's playlist makes my brain numb, because it jumps from classical to country to hip hop to symphony and back. She'll give any song a listen, and will almost certainly love it. She likes her music turned up loud, and much like me, if she's having a bad day she'll escape it by taking a long drive with her music blasting - I think the only difference is that I prefer the windows down.

I could probably think of 50 songs that remind me of my mom. I could probably name several songs that she's danced around the kitchen to with me, or turned up loud in the car to annoy me, or played on her clarinet, or annoyed my dad and brother with in the kitchen.

But the number one song that makes me think of my mom? Easy peasy - that's the one and only Taylor Swift! My mom sent me this video when it came out as a "we-hate-the-ex" reminder, and we laughed and laughed about how much he sucks at life. So now whenever I hear it (and I love me some Taylor Swift), I always think about how funny my mom thinks she is.

Well, that and how much he does in fact, suck at life.

Just Like Dolly Parton!!

I have this week off work, and it seemed like a great opportunity to really recharge for the upcoming new year - I have spent the past few days organizing my new apartment, getting settled, purging unnecessary drama from Facebook & Instagram, and doing a lot of thinking. 2016 was a difficult year in, like, literally every way possible, but here we are with just a few days left. I am looking forward to 2017 for many reasons - some big, some small, some I'll share here, and some I'll keep to myself. But in any case, I always appreciate a good blog challenge, and this one struck my fancy as a fun way to ring in the new year! 

Day One: A song from your childhood

When I was little, I was obsessed with Dolly Parton.

Literally fascinated. 

And my mom bought me these amazing glittery, bedazzled, fring-ey cowboy boots that I don't think I probably took off until my feet wouldn't fit in them anymore. When I opened the box, I gasped and said, "oh my gosh, they're just like Dolly Parton's!!!" 

Like I said. Obsessed. 

Yesterday was Christmas, and this year was probably the quietest my holiday has ever been. I got up in the morning and took Grandma to church, which was as pleasant as always. Everyone who came through the door was so happy to see her, complimenting her holiday broach, wishing her a Merry Christmas, and giving her hugs & kisses. As much disdain as I have for the Catholic church, I do actually enjoy taking her - I even sometimes pay attention instead of scanning the room for cute boys. 

After church, Grandma and I went to my parents' house for breakfast and presents. I did't get any new Dolly Parton boots (dammit), but I was just about that excited about the Costco shopping trips gifted to me by Santa...being an adult is so lame. 

My mom and I drank mimosas, and I headed home mid-afternoon, where I spent the evening drinking more mimosas, watching Netflix, and organizing closets in my new apartment. It was quiet and mellow, and a bit of a reminder as to why Christmas isn't my favorite day of the year anymore. It felt mostly just like any other Sunday, which isn't a bad thing by any means - just didn't feel like much of an extra celebration.

I think next year I'll ask Santa for some Dolly Parton boots! 

You're a Weak-Ass Bully

The definition of BULLY: a blustering, quarrelsome, overbearing person who habitually badgers and intimidates smaller or weaker people.

Let me just preface this blog with a reminder that, this is my mother-fucking blog, and I will say what I want, how I want, when I want. I am very aware of the consequence of voicing my opinion out loud (or writing it out loud, in this case). I don't need anyone to tell me to relax or let anything go, nor do I need to be told to be nice or to keep things to myself.

FUCK. YOU.

Fuck your bully-ass, manipulative bull shit. Fuck you for the way you speak to people, for the way you speak to your family. Fuck you for the way you use people, for the way you make yourself a victim by manipulating the people around you. Just seriously, fuck you.

I am so beyond done with the bull shit, it's insane. I cannot continue to sit idly by and watch people mistreat other people. If you are a bully, I will call you a bully. If you are manipulative, I will call you manipulative. If you are abusive or domineering or aggressive, or just quite plain FULL OF FUCKING HORSE SHIT, you're going to be put in your place for being a fucking ass hole.

FUCK. YOU.

Fuck you for ruining holidays, for tearing things apart just to be the winner of some bull shit stupid fight. Fuck you for crying and whining and being a big fucking bratty-ass baby, Like, for real, fuck you, you stupid ass holes.

Here's the reality. People are destroyed here. This isn't a moment where you have been hurt and we all need to bow down to you with apologies, begging you to forgive us. Ummm. Fuck you. You and your manipulation have legitimately destroyed other people. And you don't give a fuck. And you don't give a fuck because you're too fucking selfish to even see that you caused all of this damage. You are the one behind it all, and maybe it took us 10 years to figure it out, but we know now, and you're not going to continue to play the puppet master.

You can seriously, just fuck right off. Girl, bye.

And seriously, just like that I feel a little better about this insane lunacy.

Sometimes a girl has just got to vent, ya know? And today was one of those days, where I just need to type the word fuck like 35 times so I don't drive somewhere to pop someone in the jaw.

On a serious note though, it's awful to sit back and watch as one person tears apart ten other people. To sit and watch it all play out; to watch the lies, the bullying, the manipulation. It's sad to bring it up and be completely ignored (because God forbid someone take ownership in their part of anything). Sometimes, being the bigger person is really fucking hard. It's hard because usually, it requires letting go of relationships. When you stand up to someone who abuses you, you have to be prepared to say goodbye to that relationship. When you stand up for yourself, when you choose yourself over anyone else, it can really, really fucking hurt.

That is, until it doesn't hurt anymore.

Until it occurs to you that you're better now, that you win because you're no longer cowering to another person. It stops hurting when you learn how much better your life has become since you made a decision to just choose to take care of YOU. It takes a long time to get there. It takes a few steps forward, and then a few more back. Deciding you are more important than anything else, feels like trying to claw your way out of a wet paper bag. But trust me when I say, it's worth it.

If you're a bully, you can actually just fuck off right now.

And if you're the victim of a bully, stop letting that shit slide immediately, and just put yourself at the top of the list. You matter so much more than any bull-shit dumb-fuck weak-ass bully, who literally is only picking on you because they hate their own life.

How sad is that??

Just. Go. Love. Yourself.

And fuck off to the people who would rather just crush you than let you love yourself. #boom.

Dear Upstairs Neighbor

Dear Upstairs Neighbor,

You don't know me, but I feel like I know you. How is that possible, you ask, since we've never met?

Well, dear upstairs neighbor, it's because you are so mother fucking loud, I feel like we actually sort of live together!! So hear me when I ask you to please, seriously, for the love, SHUT THE FUCK UP.

I, of course, realize that I live in an apartment. I have neighbors on all sides. I chose to live on the ground floor, because it was cheaper, and because Juno likes to chase the squirrels back and forth across the patio door in the spring, and let's be honest - that is her only cardio all year long. Also because I have neighbors on all sides, I follow the rules set forth in my lease. For example, I don't run my dishwasher late at night. I don't do laundry early in the morning. I don't blast my music or run the vacuum late, nor do I listen to the TV too loud or throw raging parties. I also pull my headboard a respectful 4 inches from the wall so that the neighbor next door doesn't have to hear me bang.

I know I live in an apartment.

Which leads to me to wonder, how in the fuck you do not realize you live in one too!?!?

You. Are. So. Loud,

Literally so mother fucking loud, I think we may actually share an apartment, and I just haven't realized yet that you live with me.

Things you should know before choosing to live in a top floor apartment:

1. People live below you. That's right, underneath you. And despite the fact that they choose to have neighbors in the ceiling, they would appreciate if you did not choose to get up and play fetch from one end of your apartment to the other with your giant-ass dog in the middle of the night.

It's a fucking dog. And a fucking ball. Take that shit outside.

2. Your heels are not the part of your foot that should be hitting the floor first when you take a step. Please consult with a podiatrist to confirm there is no actual lead in your foot. I'm worried about you.

3. Also please don't chase your fucking dog around the apartment while it jumps, barks, chases, wags, and threatens to fall through the ceiling onto my couch. And stop bouncing it's fucking ball on the kitchen floor before I walk my ass up there and make you eat it.

Let's just be real, upstairs neighbor: living in apartments sucks, in general. And living in one with a dog has got to suck even more. It's probably the same as how living in an apartment with an infant who screams all the time, or a toddler learning to walk, probably sucks. Or a door-slamming teenager, I suppose. And so of course, dear neighbor, I do not have high expectations. I have a high threshold for noise. I expect to hear laundry and music and cleaning and lead-foot walking.

That said, shut your god damn dog up, dude.

Because sadly, your dog is not the ass hole. Your dog is just a dog. Dogs are dumb; they can't help it. They don't know they live in an apartment. They just see your stupid happy ass bouncing a ball on the floor or throwing a frisbee down the hallway like a dumb ass instead of putting a coat on and going to the dog park. Your dog is not at fault for your idiocy. That's on you.

And so, dear upstairs neighbor, as I sit here, typing this blog and listening to you stupidly play a long, loud, annoying game of fetch, I ask that you consider being a little bit less of a fuck stick in the future.

After all, it is after 10:00. And I know your lease like the back of my hand.

Goodnight.

Thank You, Times Ten

Day 3: Ten Things I am Thankful For in 2016

2016 has been a bit of a shit storm.
Read: Donald Trump was elected President of the United States, and everyone in the world with a vagina, realized how worried this should make us.

Anyway, when you have a year that is a total zero, it can be really challenging to remember all the things you have in your life to be grateful for. When this blog asked me for ten things I am thankful for in 2016, I was like...ten?!? What the fuck man...haven't you heard the news that Mike Pence is our new Vice President?! How can I possibly find ten things?!

It took less time to think of ten, however, than I initially thought it was going to. Because the reality is, that despite the terrible impending presidential inauguration, and despite all of the chaos, the shootings, the celebrity deaths that have happened in 2016, there is still no shortage of things I should be (and am) incredibly, deeply grateful for.

1. I am grateful that I had the opportunity to live with my best friend, and that we had such an awesome six months of best-friend-roomie time before she moved out (and I moved in another roommate who was awesome). Kattie and I finally bit the bullet and rented a two bedroom apartment together, despite fears that her cats would torment Juno. We spent six months eating Thai take out or Chinese delivery while working on property financials, watched Teen Mom in our jammies, pulled hilarious pranks on one another involving a large, wiggly purple dildo that suction cupped to literally any surface, and used the money we were saving by living together, to take several fun long weekend trips together.

For the record, Juno was the one doing 99% of the tormenting. Because she's a dick.

2. I am grateful for my Thanksgiving weekend trip to Pacific City, both the days I was there alone, and the days I was joined by Stacey & Blake. It was so great to have the alone time, great to have the peace and quiet to read and sleep in and lounge around in my jammies. But it was just as great to have the five-year-old tornado show up, to share my holiday movies with him, take him on a stormy beach walk, and drink wine with his mama. It was a perfect reminder that I can make or break my own holiday traditions.

3. I am grateful for Top Ramen. Because we all need to have comfort food sometimes.

4. I am grateful for my girlfriends, who have - for another year - reminded me what friendship looks like. It's hard to be a girl. It's hard to find girls to befriend who have no hidden agendas, or who aren't total bitches. Men don't really understand that - like, it is really hard to be friends with girls. So the fact that I have a tight-knit group of women who support, love, and encourage me...is something I am truly grateful for.

This year, last year, and surely next year.

5. I am grateful for my family - yes, all of them. The good, the bad, and the ugly of my family dynamic has shaped me. From a side of my family I don't have a strong relationship with currently, I still have plenty of wonderful childhood memories. From the side of my family I do have a relationship with, I have ongoing wonderful memories. I have enjoyed quality time with my grandma this year that I haven't had in the past, and I am grateful for all of it. I am fortunate to have parents who I can have fun with, talk to, and ask for help - not everyone has that, and the more people I talk to, the more rare it seems to have the mom and dad I have, who are really there to pick me up whenever I fall.

6. I am grateful for my strong voice. The voice that was finally able to express my concerns to my family, though they were not well received (unless a total freeze out means something is well received). The voice that has been able to stand up for right and wrong through a horribly exhausting presidential debate, and a voice that has had no fear of standing up for people who are being horribly mistreated. I am grateful that I can speak up.

7. I am grateful for Juno. She's my favorite. And yes, I am aware that she's a cat...that doesn't mean I like anyone else better than her. I don't. I like her better than any of you.

8. I am grateful for my job. Even though there are days I really hate it, I am glad to work in an industry where I am respected (usually). I appreciate that I am not one of the many people out there who wake up every day and dread going to work. I like my property, I love my team, and I enjoy the 40+ hours I spend each week with them.

9. I am grateful for silver tequila.

Obviously.

10. I am grateful for 2016, in general. Despite it being awful in many instances (MIKE. FUCKING. PENCE.), it has still been a year with many positives. I survived a property sale in one piece, got a promotion, earned two raises, stood up for myself in many, many situations, went on vacations, paid off all my bills, and enjoyed a lot of wine with a lot of good company. I had a roof over my head, I spent time with my family, and didn't spend thousands of dollars at the vet. I am happy and healthy, and so is my family. And most importantly, so is the cat.

Because again, I do like her better than any of you.

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.