If you liked it than you should have put a ring on it...or at least asked them out...

***sigh***

Why is it that I only get hit on by gay men and gentlemen over the age of 65?
Why can't I get asked out by a guy my own age?

***heavy sigh***

It's really depressing. I mean let's look at the facts here.

For starters I smell good. I use really nice laundry detergent, so my clothes are always nice and fresh smelling. I use liquid tide, not the cheap powder kind. I also always have some sort of delicious perfume on. Not just any perfume, I'm talking about Chanel. I smell expensive for goodness sake.

Secondly, I have really great hair. It's shiny and silky and long. I use yummy smelling products too (add it to the previous list of me smelling good)

C: I dress well. I buy pieces that can go the distance. I have a very classic style. Most of my clothes are 90% dry clean only, so that's telling you something. I am really good at accessorizing. I like to go by the "less is more" rule. I also wear at least 4inch heels everyday.

Which brings me to exhibit 2-B: I'm the perfect height. I'm 5'5 which makes me absolutely average. I'm right in the middle, not a dwarf and not so freakishly tall that I look like I belong in the Amazon. I can wear those 4inches and still be shorter than a lot of guys.

In closing I'm also smart, and keep up to date with current events. I know how to cook, even though I don't ever do it. I do bake, and am pretty good at that too. I also am funny and I can take a joke. If I trip or do something retarded I'm the first person to laugh at myself. I come from a nice family, and I have pleasent friends.

So what the funk? What's up? Why am I on the verge of the big 3-0 and I'm no where close to being married, let alone landing a date.

I get asked why I'm still single at least once a day. I'm running out of answers. I don't know.

People have started to feel pitty for me and are "breaking it down" for me and letting me know what's up.

So what's the big mystery?

Apparently I'm intimidating.

What the hell kind of answer is that?

Because I dress well, smell good, have nice hair, am smart and funny, and have a ton of great people around me this is the reason I am single. This is why guys don't ask me out.

***another heavy sigh***

Why are men so stupid. Do you know how many great girls are out there just waiting to be a good girlfriend to some stupid douche bag that doesn't even deserve her? Too many for me to even try and keep track of.
Why do I always see a pretty good looking dude with some really unattractive girl? I always wonder why she can get a guy and I can't. It makes me feel pretty pathetic. Don't judge me, you know you've all done it at least once in your life.

I did get asked out a few weeks back by some guy who is 22. First strike. I went to lunch the same day with the BFF and when she asked me what he was like I described him as the type that looks like he shoots rifles when he gets drunk with his buddies. Super redneck. Definatly not my type. Strike two, and I'm not eben giving him the chance to strike out. I also had an acquaintance today tell me that I should try a "party-line" What the hell? Do I look like the type to call a party line? hmmmm? I don't think so. Especially since she met her boyfriend there and he just got out of rehab. Again, not my type.

Basically my type is non-douche bag, but my problem is that I am surrounded by them.

Look, I'm not asking for much here. I just want a decent guy who can make me laugh and would be able to carry me out of a burning building if neccessary. Not drag me, but carry me out. If I'm going to make a wish list though I might as well go big or go home, right? Okay, I'm glad you agree!

My dream guy would be;
funny, smart, cute, and at least 5'10. I really would like to get married in the temple, so I would prefer a member, but only a really down to earth one like me. I'm not down for dating a crazy uber orthodox one again (I still miss you though Mr Perfect.) If he's not LDS I need him to be Jewish. I wouldn't even flinch at changing my last name to Goldstein or Rosenberg. Anything Jew-like and I'm good. I also really like guys with tatoos, I think that is super hot. I cannot be with a Yankees fan either. We bleed Boston in my family. I also need someone who has a good job. I know that sounds terrible, but I'm keeping it real. I'm a lot of things, but I am no sugar momma, and I never will be. My perfect guy would also love dogs, and allow me to name all dogs we bring into our home. He would also allow me to name all children that I push through my vagina as well. Basically all naming rights would belong to me.

This is pretty much all I'm asking for. It's not that much, I'm not that picky, so please guys don't be intimidated. Ask a pretty haired, yummy smelling average height girl out next time you see one. She might just be me...

Amazaholics

amaze vt.

amazed, amazing

1. to fill with great surprise or sudden wonder; astonish

2. to bewilder


Lately I've been hearing the word "amazing" being used loosly to describe a plethora of things.

Over and over I hear, "these eggs are amazing!"

"you're hair looks amazing!" etc. I started to question when everything so mundane became so suddenly, well, amazing.

Then I happened to watch the Rock of Love Charm School finale, and these two ridiculously trashy girls must have said amazing at least 10 times. Girl 1 described Girl 2's speech as "amazing." What? I'm sorry, I could barely stand to listen to Girl 2 ramble on as she tried to stutter out what she classified as an exceptable speech. (the girl with the best speech would win $100,000)

After watching that, and hearing it from people around me, I've decided that people over-using this word might not have the correct definition of amazing. Therefore, I have taken it upon myself to help those with this problem. I understand it might be difficult at first to purge yourself of misusing this word, but let's look at the silver lining, there are so many other descriptive words to use out there. You can say, "These eggs are delicious, scrumtious, appetizing, heavenly, tasty, or titillating." Or you can say, "You hair looks beautiful, dazzling, exqusite, foxy, classy, stunning, pretty, elegant, or supurb.


Amazing should be saved for something like, say I suddenly spit out fire, or my dog started talking in hebrew instead of barking, or Jennifer Aniston and Angelina Jolie became BFF. These type of things would be defined as amazing.


I urge all amazaholics to take baby steps in helping themsleves become less dependant on this word. Thank you. Good night, and good luck.

Double Dilema

Have you ever just wanted something so bad that you couldn't stop thinking about it? Well that's how I was last week regarding a double cheeseburger from McDonald's. For five days it was all I could think about. I would wake up wanting one, and fight myself all day long on getting it until I went to bed. I'm sure the people I was working with this week were ready to stab me in the juggular, because it's really all I talked about. I would ask my co-workers where they were going to lunch, and ask them if they would eat one for me, then tell me how good it was. They didn't do it. Bastards.
I bet it seems strange to you why I couldn't just go ahead and eat one. I'll tell you why. Because McDonald's is THE DEVIL. I swear they add some sort of crack to their food, because I love it, and if I eat it once, I want it again, which isn't possible at this time.
See, my dad developed diabetes about 7 years ago, and lately has been having trouble sticking to the diet he should be on, which doesn't include breads or pasta or sugar, or carbs. Basically he's screwed when it comes to food. I love my dad. Yes he's a cranky mo-fo, but he's the only dad I have, so I want him to be around and healthy for as long as I can help it. Which is why, even though I see him like once a week I have cut out all the things he can't eat from my diet as well (only to a certain extent...hey, no judging, I'm not the diabetic here!) But really, I have been for the most part pretty dedicated to it. My dad says that just knowing that I'm doing it makes him feel better about it. That's my reasons, so now you know, but back to the double cheeseburger...
I finally got to Friday, and I think I was going a little insane. I thought about it every 5 seconds. I wanted the damn burger, I could seriously taste it in my mouth. I was starting to become a snatch too. The BFF called me and I totally snapped at her, literally giving her the excuse, "I'm sorry! I just really want a double cheeseburger!" She told me to just get the damn burger. Way to be supportive BFF...
I was getting sweaty and all worked up over this cheeseburger. It was like a battle against good and evil going on in my brain, I couldn't even see straight. The darkside was pulling me in like a vaccum sucking up a bad penny. I got in my car to run a few errands, trying to get my mind off the burger by chain smoking. It didn't help, it just made me smell like smoke. I felt like an addict that was trying to get off the meth, "This is what's it's like for druggies" is all I could say. I now have a greater respect for all drug addicts and their come-downs from highs. Stay strong my brothers (fist pounding to the chest as I say that...)
Finally I couldn't take it anymore.
I found myself in the drive-though.
I made the exchange for the "stuff"
I brought the bag home.
The Roomie saw it. Her reaction? "Oh boy! You caved!"
I didn't give a f@*k, I was one happy girl.
I sat there with that double cheeseburger in my hand for a good five minutes, just cherishing the moment.
And then I took a bite...
mmmmmmmmmm yummy is all I have to say.

I know some of you are thinking I'm weak, but I couldn't stand it! I needed to get on with my life and I couldn't until I had that damn burger. So screw you Velda!

I'll see you in line at the drive though.

Frugalista, circa 2009

This recession is really bringing me down. I'm ready to be circa 2005 big baller status again.

I've been warned I shouldn't hold my breath.

You know those people who are happy for others when they are doing good? In this case I'm not one of them, so if you still are big baller status, then you suck. Seriously, you do. My parents included.

My problem is that it doesn't seem to matter what the numbers on my paycheck say, I still spend money. Granted, not AS MUCH as my big baller days, but still, enough. My BFF and I joke how we thought we were supposed to make more money as we got older, not less now that we are in the later part of our twenties. Example; my 22nd birthday, my best friend got me a necklace and earings from Tiffanys, AND rented a stretch hummer limo to take us out for my birthday. My last birthday, she bought me a shot.
Not that I am ungrateful, because I would rather have her as my best friend than have the entire content of the Tiffanys catalog. She's the bomb diggity.
My point is, that for a plethora of reasons, the economy, career changes, going to school, buying a house, getting married, pushing kids out of your vagina, blah blah blah, some of my friends and I are broke.

BUT WAIT!!! There is a light at the end of this dark and dreary tunnel. There is a way to still have adorable shoes and name brands galore. There is a God and his name is ROSS. As in "I got it at Ross!"

Yes, Ross, TJ Max, and Marshall's are my new meccas. I get adorable shoes for $15, and the other day I got a pair of Betsey Johnson earings. They were $24, marked down from the original price of $65. I know it's not as aesthetically pleasing as Nordstroms, but tough times call for tough measures.

I came home the other night and with much enthusiasm showed my roomates my latest shoe purchase from Ross. Mr. Roomie tried to bring me down by saying, "There's a reason those shoes are at Ross" with disgust in his voice. I then proceeded to break down the whole over-stock concept for him, which he had never even contemplated. Lis Sis, who works at a retail store chiped in that her store sends stuff out if they don't sell it in the allotted time frame. Mr. Roomie then joins me in the excitment but has one last question, "So what do you say when someone asks where you get your shoes, can people tell you got it at Ross?"

No Mr. Roomie, they cannot, so for those of you out there that aren't ready to stand up and shout, "I'M A FRUGALISTA AND PROUD OF IT!!!" that's okay, you'll find no judgement from me...

Just lie and say you got them at Macy's. But I'll know the truth.

Joy Behar, I hope you get laryngitis so you can no longer speak

So I'm off this week, and I am splitting my time between my parents house (aka Noah's Ark) and my own house (aka home sweet home.) So I came home this morning, and was sitting in the living room with my roommate, her daughter Gilda, and my roommate's sister. Yes, we all live together! Plus we have my roommate's husband, Mr Roomie. Don't judge, it takes a village....



So Roomie, Gilda, Lil Sis and I are all watching The View, which I can't stand. Every time I watch it it reminds me of going over to a friends house for dinner when you're a kid and the friend's parents start fighting in front of you. It's awkward, which is exactly what this show is.



If you are a fan of The View, please stop reading now. Don't worry, I'll wait...



Okay, are they gone? Good.



I think Joy is the most retarded woman alive today.



She drives me nuts. She just opens her mouth and word vomit comes out. Where did they get her from? The loony bin?



I started to wonder what made her so special that she gets to be a co-host of a well watched television show, AND just won a daytime Emmy as well for it. So I looked her up on Wikipedia. I actually look up a lot of people on Wikipedia, it gives a pretty good bio, and usually filters out all the B.S.



This was not the case with Joy Behar. Why you ask? Because the woman's life IS just a bunch of B.S. This just proves my point that she is the most retarded woman alive today.



I'm going to give you guys the cliff notes version, even though the bio is already slim, hey, she's not that well-rounded.



It basically says, she's Italian-American, (then why do you seem so Jewish??? You give the Jews a bad name and you're a gentile? That must piss off a lot of Rabbis') and she grew up in Brooklyn. She got married, she got divorced. She's currently been living in sin with her boyfriend for the past 20 something years. Which never makes sense to me. Why just live with someone? Shit, if you're going to put up with someone and their bad habits you might as well make it so you can get alimony if they decide to peace out on you later on. But that is a topic for later. It doesn't really talk about her career, she's just a comedian, and it says she a member of the view. My favorite part is where it talks about how her and Star Jones hated each other. It even quoted part of their feud. It also says that the conservatives don't like her, the catholics don't like her, and even some civil rights people don't like her. I'm getting the feeling Joy probably wasn't voted most popular in high school....



BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE!



Joy actually has a master's degree in English Education. What the funk? If you're educated why do you say stupid things?



I bet you all are wondering what Joy said to piss me off this morning. Lucky for you, I like to share!



The hosts where talking about Mr. Obama and how he is going around giving speeches about the importants of education to the children, and that the GOP are irritated and giving him crap for it.

Joy spat out that "white people are afraid because they are eventually going to be the minority."

First of all Joy, you're white, so shut your face. Secondly, the GOP doesn't like Obama, and it doesn't matter what he does, we are going to find some way to complain about it. Get over it. If it bothers you so much please take the time to vote for someone who actually can get the job done in 2012, but if you would like 4 more years of us complaining, then just re-elect the man. But please, please, do not say stupid retarded things like white people are just afraid. That is just dumb, and racist.



And last but not least Joy, I don't like your hair.

Thank you for not smoking

Boys and Girls, today I would like to talk about a subject that I've had years of personal experience with.





That's right, our topic today is smoking.


I am such a statistic because when I smoked my first cigarette 13 years ago the only reason I brought that puffy little treat to my lips was pure peer pressure. I knew that smoking was super bad for you, that only bad things could come from it, but I didn't care. I was a rebel, or just didn't want to look stupid in front of my friends. I like the rebel idea better, it sounds cooler, so let's just say that was the case. Hey, everyone has selective memory now and again.

I didn't get hooked right away, but I did smoke in high school. It was senior year that I started smoking publicly, my parents hated it, but what could they really do? Somewhere between then and now I have tried to quit a gazillion times.

The last attempt actually might have stuck, it had been 7 months without slipping up even once. It was like Marlboro's-0, Me-20.

And then I got dumped.

And then I went out and bought a pack and smoked the whole thing in about an hour.

And it was delicious.

And it made me feel better.

And I told myself it was just this one pack.

And I am still smoking to this day.

Yeah.....those doctors aren't lying when they say that nicotine is addictive. I will testify for them to congress if necessary, but I highly doubt they need me to. Whew, dodged that bullet!

You know what really irks me though? Is that I really, really, really like smoking! I know it's gross, but don't lie to yourself, you know it's cool. No, I know it's not cool, but I wish it was. I wish I lived in the 60's where it was okay to smoke, when you weren't treated like a leper if you wanted to light one up. I am friends with Natalie, who is in her 70's and she tells me how when she was my age everyone smoked, and not only did they smoke, they smoked ALL THE TIME. Indoors, outdoors, at work, while pregnant, while pumping flammable gasoline, didn't matter what you were doing, you were probably doing it with a cigarette in your hand. Sounds fun, huh? No? Oh, well we agree to disagree then.

It is funny though, because I am old enough to remember being a little girl and it still wasn't super bad to smoke. I remember Camel advertisements on the television and I remember that when I would go to a restaurant with my parents the hostess would always ask my dad if we prefered smoking or non-smoking.

So what I say now I say with a heavy heart.

I'm going to attempt to quit again. Please, can we have a moment of silence in remembrance for my fallen friend....

Okay, so here it goes. If you think you hear a collective groan around the state of California, it's probably just my friends all saying, "yeah right, we've heard this a million times."

Well, give me a break. My roomie likes to say as long as I continue to try and quit then I haven't failed yet. She sure is a smart one...

p.s. the picture I included is an actual cigarette ad from the 50's.

The title of this blog is, "When I think of him I shake my head in disgust"

I feel like I need to get a few things off of my chest. Hooray for you, you get to listen!!! Yay....

First let me start out by saying that this might sound very much like a crazy lunatic rambling on and on, but do not worry, I am not insane, I just have a lot I need to get off my chest, and some of it has been pent up for years.

These last few months have been very strenuous on me. It's not because I'm busy doing important things, but I have been having constant debates in my head. So we all know I was seeing this guy, and I thought he was amazing, and blah blah blah, and I'm super into him, more than anyone I've ever known, and he's into me, and then **POOF!!!** One day he decides he doesn't like me as much as he thought he did. Now, I was told a few reasons why, but nothing actually made too much sense to me. Not the point though. At this point his reason could be that he can't stand Hello Kitty, and my love for her was too much for him to handle. He didn't want to share me with Kitty. So, the thing that I really just can't wrap my brain around is how he just stopped caring so quickly. One day I'm the best thing since sliced bread, and the next day you're doing the Atkins diet. That is driving me bonkers! Like, I think about it and it pisses me off. I've had a few "theories" presented to me on how this can occur, but they have yet to make sense to me either. Probably because they came from men. They never make sense.

Continuing on this topic, for those of you who don't know, the real "reason" for the dumping, it was that I am not "Mormon enough." Because of this reason, from now on I will reference the gentleman I am referring to as "Mr. Perfect." (wow, I just quoted like crazy there!) What I want to know is where does Mr. Perfect get off with this? Of course I'm not Mormon enough! Have you met me? It's not like I kept any secrets from him about anything. Jeez...

Look, I know that I am not perfect, I know that I do things a little differently, but that doesn't change my belief in my faith. I have my own road to follow to get where I need to be. I'll get there, I'm just slow.

With that being said, I don't understand how anyone can decide that someone else does not have enough love or devotion to something they believe in. If Mr. Perfect and I read from the same book, then we both believe in the same thing. The difference in my eyes is this; I've been down the other road, and I still chose to say that this is the truth, this is what I need to follow. He has not. He has done everything he was ever told he needed to do. So how does he really know that his is what he wants? If I told you that chocolate ice cream is the best flavor in the world and nothing else compares, you could eat that the rest of your life and not even bother with the other flavors. But how do you really know for yourself? Everyone has their own personal bumps that strengthen them in the end. I know that I have things I need to work on, but I do it, one day at a time, and I don't beat myself up for it. If I mess up today, there is always tomorrow.

So, no I'm never going to be the Bishop's wife, but who cares? I just want to get to the point where I attend church every week, is that so much to hope for?

I still have more I could go on about, but I won't. For now...

Bull riding and dance ettiquitte

UGH....I'm warning everyone now, I have a delayed hangover. It sucks.

Last night we had a birthday party for a friend of mine, and we decided to go to a place that has a mechanical bull. We've been there before, and even though it's a little out of our way (and when I say out of our way I mean far enough for us to have to get a room) it's always totally worth it. We have the greatest time when we go there. I was super pumped up and ready to go. I was even contemplating getting on the bull again. I haven't rode it since my 24th birthday. People always ask me why I don't like to ride the bull. Let me take a minute to explain. Yes, I do think riding the bull is super-duper fun. It is, it's like a little roller coaster ride that you're taking solo. Here's my problem that I didn't realize until AFTER my one and only bull ride...you must sign a waiver to ride it. Let me repeat myself, you must sign a waiver, something that clears the establishment of any responsibility in bodily injury, including death. You could DIE from riding the damn bull. What the funk? I'm not down to die for some little 3 minute thrill. Yes, I did survive when I rode it, but walking away from it I remember I felt like I had conquered a real bull. Yes, in my head I was as legitimate as a PBR 10 year veteran. I had rode the bull and walked away without a scratch. I was the man, and I was never, EVER going to get on that thing again.

Until last night...

And the son bitch was out of order.

Oh well, I just decided to drink a lot instead. Which I did. I even did the shot thing where you sit in a barber's chair and they lay you back and pour the shots in your mouth and then sit you up really quick. I was pretty smashed. I danced with my friends, and I danced with the man in his 80's who goes around and asks anyone under the age of 30 to dance. He has a couple of smooth moves, so it was nice. I will say that dancing has become so icky. This is a subject in which my opinion helps prove my theory that I was born in the wrong generation. Let me go on...
People cannot dance. Boys think that smashing against a girl's butt with their penis is dancing. No, that is dry-humping. What happened to moving your feet? What happened to men leading? It is so refreshing when a guy asks me to dance and knows what he's doing. See, I'm not the best dancer, but if a guy is a strong lead then he can make any girl be a better dancer. I had a guy last night that was a great lead, so he spun me around and dipped me and everything. I damn near changed my name to Ginger. So boys, do us girls a favor and stop trying to hump us on the dance floor. We don't like it.

The night was a success. Our friend turned 30, no one died riding the bull, (because they couldn't even get on it!) Shots were taken and no one up-chucked, and I got to dance properly. Can't wait to see what the next trip there brings us.

Here I am line dancing with the 80 year old man who we see EVERYTIME we go there. He's there everytime, it's gotten to the point where I look for him when we get there. If I don't see him right away I have a small panic attack that he's died.

Shopping is a privlage, not a right...But it always FEELS so RIGHT!!!

It is ridiculously hot outside! Holy Toledo! This week has been very long....scratch that, the month of August has been extremely loooonnnnnnnnggggg! I thought I would never get to this weekend which is the start of my week off! I am so ready for the break, I haven't had a week off from working since I took that little two month hiatus between Ford and BMW. So here it is, the week I've been waiting for to do absolutely nothing, wooweee, how great, except my retarded self decided to pack the week with appointments and lunch dates. Who does that? I do that, that's who. But it should be fun for the most part. My parents are going down to Palm Desert, and I of course being their only offspring am the one put in charge of their house and everything that goes along with it. The "everything that goes along with it" would entail two cats, the dog Mr. Darcy, and a gazillion frickin plants. All of these things are not allowed to die on my watch. Let's just say it's a lot of pressure. Oh you don't think so? Then you've never met my mother.
I just got my discover card bill, I spent $415 on it in the last month. What the heck? What did I even buy? I have no idea! I seriously have a problem. People wonder why I have my mother as my personal "accountant" It's because of crap like this! Like, the other day, I got an email from my Citibank credit card. It read, "Congratulations! Your credit line has just been increased to $8500!!! blah blah blah" I read that and about choked, since my Chase bill has decided that I'm "too risky" and have decided that they want their money back now, so my monthly payment has skyrocketed up to like $300 a month. But $8500??? Do you know what I would do if I was fully in charge of my money? Oh man, that would be gone in about 2 months, if I was lucky. I truly am a bonafide shopaholic. Wait, scratch that, as of today I'm a "recovering shopaholic" Today is day one. Don't they do like a serenity prayer or something? Mine would be, "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot afford, pay cash for the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference between what I want and what I need" I should totally make chips for myself and everything. I could bedazzle them, but wait, I would need to BUY some poker chips for that, hmmm....I think that would be moving in the wrong direction. I'll just stick to the prayer for now.

ps....I have to give a shout out to the birthday boy today! One of my very good friends turns 30 and we're going to celebrate by riding the bull tonight!!! Happy Birthday!