And on this day, cupid moved the rock and rose from the dead. Wait, no?

mature-cupid-fat-bearded-hairy-bow-heart-arrow-peace-sign-victory-his-hand-48936734I have been reminded quite a bit lately that I have not been blogging. And, ja know, it is true. It’s because I have mostly been snacking, drinking wine and shoveling. And petting my dog. Dear fuck I am a loser. So really, what better day to blog about my love life, than the day Cupid moved the rock and rose from the dead. Wait? Was that this holiday? What the actual fuck did cupid do?

Anyholla. I decided I wanted this blog to be two part (now, let’s see if my ADD allows for that). Part 1. How my incredibly busy dating life has been, and Part 2. My perfect online dating profile.

So, Part 1. The end. No, really. NOTHING HAS FUCKING CHANGED.

Part 2. Lemme tell you married people something. It is REALLY HARD writing an online profile of yourself. You have to “sell” yourself. But thing is, when you are out of a marriage, you don’t always feel super fucking awesome about yourself. Especially when you have been dealt some of the blows I have. Actually even just one. Just get dealt one of mine. Not a gigantic confidence boost. (except the formers new lady, according to sources, looks just like me AND has the same last name. Creepy, or stalky?)

This is what my actual profile says (can’t make this up, but it’s not online now, because I am burnt out from fielding marriage requests from men 15 years younger than me and am just going to work on stalking yoga or something).

Me. Was married for 10 years, but decided online dating seemed more fun. Have a great job, beautiful home and 2 mini-me’s. I’m skeptical of online dating, but having trouble meeting “the one” when sitting at home watching Bravo TV.

You. Must love cheese, bacon, dogs and wine. Be gainfully employed and not live with mom. Be active but not a Spartan. If your profile says things like “Hit me up” or “LOL” I am already annoyed. Gentlemen who have already claimed to be “the one” for me, so you need not apply: someone who asked if I like being slapped with bacon (no), a stripper (like, current, CURRENT stripper), someone who faked a dead wife, someone who sat down upon first meeting and said “My wife went butch, you gunna too?” And many men who are not “technically” single. If you support Trump, I assure you, we are not going to get along.

I mean, that’s funny, right???? Well, seems as though “funny” is not a quality people look for anymore. It also seems as though people don’t like women who own a home and are employed. And eat bacon. And drink wine. Otherwise EVERYONE says “hit me up.” (oh shit, maybe that is why I am always annoyed).

Anyjolla, I decided that I would write what I think my perfect online dating profile would be. Ya know, like the shit you want to say, but don’t.

Me: I dunno, I’ll prolly put some of the stuff from above in, however, here is the real me, lets give it a go.

Was married for 10 years, but decided online dating seemed more fun. Have a great job, beautiful home and 2 mini-me’s. Had my heart aggressively trampled on, but still believe (ish) in happy endings. Want an equal in life. You work, I work, I cook, you do dishes. Want someone to share the great (sunny days at the beach) and not as great (3rd grade recorder concert) with. Want someone who checks their phone in the middle of the night to see if I said “hi” and if I didn’t, you say it, because ya know, you are thinking of me. Want “easy” in a hard world. What does that mean? You understand that my life is chaotic, and even if I am not the fastest to respond to texts, it doesn’t mean I am not thinking of you…. It means, life. You don’t ever ask for racy photos…. Why, because you respect me… And really, who the fuck does that?

You: Understand that I had a life before you, but still want a life with you. What does that mean? I have two people who rule my every being. I never would have guessed I could love going to third grade basketball games, and doing science projects, and reading Octonauts every.single.night. They are actual parts of me (not like my old art teacher who had a sixth finger on both hands, but you know what I mean). You understand that I am a work in progress. Sure, I want to go to the gym more, and be the prettiest, smartest, fastest, but I’m not. And I don’t. And I won’t. Because life. I don’t really watch TV, but always have music on. You should be overly comfortable with a nightly dance party. I don’t believe in electronics at the dinner table. Or lunch table. Or breakfast table. I am right here. But the phone down, I assure you, nothing happened on FaceBook.

So, there you have it, the profile I would like to post, but won’t, because, eh, imma hold out and hope I meet someone in the produce potato chip aisle.

 

 

 

FYI, I don’t give a fu*k about history….

My lil hometown is considering a new school (it appears as though 110 years of 200 students wearing on it may have taken its toll)….. Something so many towns would rejoice over (I mean, legit, how lucky are we? But this is 01945 and I swear we need things to bitch about, and this is the big winner!)…. There is so much opposition to it, and TBH I have no idea why.  However, as I like to say, I am also not very smart, so there is that to take into consideration as well. It seems as though the town is divided into two pretty basic groups.

Group #1.  People who don’t want a new school because it lacks “history” Dude. Again, I am not smart, but I feel like we aren’t exactly driving covered wagons these days, but I am such a space cadet, maybe we are….. (sidebar, can you even IMAGINE me driving a covered wagon?).  And, aren’t you supposed to remember history, not live it? Idunno.

1
Me and Pee Wee, just driving the ole covered wagon to school.

Group #2. People who don’t want their children to ingest lead paint and would prefer that they have heat in the winter  People who want to look at all of the options

I dunno.  I spent 10 years in Arizona, where the actual education currently ranks a solid 48 out of the 50 states (you want low, not high).  And, interestingly enough, MA ranks #1.  #holla. So I lived in real time, through some shit education, (in an economy where they are NOT lucky enough to build new schools).  Oh, oh, funny, I do know what I am talking about here, because when I was in Arizona, I worked, in, you guessed it, education…..  So I can really see the benefits of a new school a fresh coat of paint, not falling down and breaking your hip, more than 8 parking spots for 200 people and a school than can accommodate, I dunno, a fucking god damn fire truck in the event there is a fire clean, functional learning spaces as well as adequate space for the little ones to stretch their legs.

I was asked to look into being a candidate for the feasibility study for a new school, because I likely offer a different vantage point (and, wine). I have two young sons (aka my mini hot messes) but they go to two different school districts.  Why? You ask?  Well, because as group #1 would say, Bigs is not ADA so he doesn’t need to be shuffled to a “safe” school. Makes sense when you say it that way… I mean, he is 8 now and all, and legit doesn’t need safety at all. He will be fine.  BUT THE OTHER ONE…. Pee Wee, well, because he is ADA, he gets bused off (ever met an ADA kiddo, ever tried explaining complex things to them? Like “Oh, mommy can’t bring you to school, now you have a driver, a bus, you need to get your back pack, I know you are scared, but um, I bet things will be ok”) but, I mean, that’s cool, because there is “history” in the 110 year old school, so screw him and all of his little ADA buddies too!

I don’t negate that, 110 years is a long time.  If those walls could talk (well, walls don’t talk, and TBH, they would prob be like “Rip me down and send me to my grave.”)….. So much so, that I decided to ask Dr. G what he thought about schools 110 years ago.  If  you can believe this, a few pictures and even a lillle reading came up…. Some snippets:

Teachers were segregated by gender (remarkable, segregation ended in 1964, but it is being insinuated that we bring it back and segregate ADA students….. I LOVE forward thinkers! That’s right group #1, looking two steps ahead and 52 years in the rear!).

Often times, children rode ponies to school! We bitch about the parking at Gerry, can you even imagine if there were 200 ponies?!??!

1.png
Pony Parking.

In the early 1900’s, racial segregation was still prominent, so much so, that if a black child lived and worked on a farm, the owner of the farm could pull him out of school at any time to work alongside his parents.   How’s that for “preserving history?”

In MA, the classrooms were heated with coal. I say we bring it back! The teachers certainty don’t have enough to do, they should tend to a fire as well! That will stop everyone from bitching about the boiler and we don’t give a shit about pollution because, duh, HISTORY!

1.png
I refuse to commit that this ISN’T the Gerry heating system, but at any rate, no need to update it, seems fine!

 

Often times, the schools were one-room schoolhouses. I mean, the Gerry is ½ way there considering the gym, art and music room are all the same! I mean, way to optimize time and space like “KIDS, get your paint brushes and run, run, run!!!!!!! Now whistle! Where are your recorders?”

I’ll wrap this up with one more nugget of info for you folks who still support segregation and discrimination history.  And this one is from the heart.  MY SON DOES NOT DESERVE LESS THAN ANY OTHER CHILD.  People who suggest it should be ashamed. Absolutely ashamed.  I walk through every day with the HOPE that he will be ok.  That he will have a future. How DARE anyone suggest he shouldn’t? 01945 schools are, in often cases, “grandfathered” in to ADA law….. That does not, however, give anyone the right to suggest that ADA students deserve a lesser or “different” education. BTW, I actually don’t give a fuck about history.

In 1975 Congress passed Public Law 94-142, Education for All Handicapped Children Act. One of the most comprehensive laws in the history of education in the United States, this Act brought together several pieces of state and federal legislation, making free, appropriate education available to all eligible students with a disability. The law was amended in 1986 to extend its coverage to include younger children. In 1990 the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) extended its definitions and changed the label “handicap” to “disabilities”. Further procedural changes were amended to IDEA in 1997.

1
I couldn’t agree more, let’s ship this kid out and preserve history!

 

 

 

Why I will never online date, part 2. Right?2? No?

Here’s the gig.  I legit 100% slammed the brakes on online dating. Why? I already have enough fucking crazy in my life, I don’t need to be swiping to find the next Mr. Nara, when I could be at the shelter looking for cats. I dunno.  It just isn’t me…. I don’t want to go to a random bar, and meet some random guy, and assume shit is just going to work out.  Do you know who I am? I still can’t figure out how to make the lights on my car go back to “auto” you HONESTLY think a Tinder date is going to work out for me? Solid nope.   I am holding out for meeting in the produce aisle and someone being all like “Wow, you ALSO like cucumber, we are a 10 match.”  Oh shit. I grocery shop online.  Ha.  So much for a produce match. Anyhoo.

However, the hilarity of online dating lives through some of my BFF’s.  For example, can we talk about one of my GF’s who was “talking” to this guy, and all of the sudden, there is a question of height.  AND HE IS FIVE FOOT FUCKING 2 INCHES.  Listen people, that is how tall I am, and I am a very short person.  I was all like “Oh, so he wears those shoes that make you look taller, no, those are super cool. I mean, looka how well they work for Tom Cruise.

1

Seems like a match. Go for it, if, ya know, you are into little people

I am sorry, what the actual fuck.  There is a reason he is online dating. BECAUSE HE IS HOPING HE DOESN”T GET ASKED HOW SHORT TALL HE IS.  I bet he does get asked “So, how short are you?” like, slip of the tongue.  Womp.

Moving on to online date #2. GF shows me pictures of this guy, and it went something like a so…..

Me:  Yea, I don’t like him at all.  (I at the very least admit that I am judgy).

Friend: Why?

Me (judger): He is super fucking boring.

Friend: But that is just his picture, and he is nice.

Me (bitch): No, no he isn’t, he is boring. He makes me want to take a nap right now (ok, to be fair, I was so gassed after having a crayyy week, that anything made me want to nap, but this guys profile picture was like a “Contacts out, NAP.”)

Well, dontcha know, they go on a date…. So, the next morning, we are all laying making sure we do nothing productive….  chatting… When immma like “OMG, how was your date with the most boring person in the entire universe?” And then we went like a so:

Friend:  Um, it was good. He’s nice.

Me:  Uh-huh, did he look like his pictures (listen, “nice” means the same thing for men or women… Like, yea, he’s “nice” so boring I stabbed myself and jumped into the pizza wood burning fire for fun.”)

Friend:  He, um. No. No, he didn’t. He was…

Me: Oh, like the old “The pictures are from 5 years ago.”

Friend: Yep.

Apparently the worlds most boring person forgot to mention this.

1.png

 

See, see people, there are just TWO reasons that I want a million cats won’t online it.

Now, I did have a few superhot dates this weekend……. Areyouret?

One was for family taco night. Here’s how that date went.  Within 8 seconds I had locked my keys in my car (Legit, I should never be unsupervised).  Good news, I left the sunroof open and we tossed a few lil people (not midgets, and not date #1 from above, but I guess that would have worked too, actual young people) through the sunroof.  Yup. All class, all the time.

1.png

Next date, was with one of my BFF.  I took her to the dump……  Yup.  She is running Boston (right now, holla #30581) and such as it is, she had a bit of pre-run nerves (like how I say that as if I know?….. Clearly I don’t.  We were all actually discussing today how I would not run the .2 miles for anything less than genuine street tacos. And even then, .2 seems far).  Anyhoo, I had to hit up the dump, so off we go…. Right, lemme tell you people, this place is a HOT SPOT, because the line was down the street (I’m actually not kidding about that part)…. I’m not sure if it was the shot out, taped up windows (also not kidding) or the clientele of said dump, but the place was popping.  Lots of people from 01945 still had to dump their Christmas trees.  Truth. I was disappointed to only get hit on yelled at once, by the guy I hit with a rather large branch. Apparently you shouldn’t throw those.  I’ve never really been a “rules” person.

The last hot date of the weekend, was one that actually should have been video taped by E for my upcoming reality show  censored. You know, when you have that one friend who when you are together, basically everything is funny and someone pees their pants? Right, well, that is my 1.png

(did I forget that I also identify people with emojis.  Yea, true)…..

So, uni and I decide to go shopping for our kiddos panties.  I mean, why not? First things first, this weekend, likely because I did not have my own cherubs, screaming, crying children followed me.  Those fuckers had my number.  Let’s not act like this was any different.  There were many exchanges of “If that asshole follows me, I am taking out my flask leaving.” Well, dontcha know those dinks follow us to the skivvies.  So, in such, imma like “Unicorn, do you like this thong, or this thong.” CPS frowned upon that one.

So, as you can see, I am really crushing it in the world of dating. Hold on to your seats for more deets about my friends who are ok with super short people where that goes.

Apparently when I am super busy, I am still a hot ass mess….

My girlfriends have been all up in my chach, my greatest supporters of le blog (it could actually be because they are often times featured in it, and want to stay on my good side, but I think it is because they think I am pretty and funny and love me more than they love wine). I was thinking about writing all week, but once a year, we have our really important people from the world come visit us, and I have to work super hard, (I mean, not like I only work once a year, but I suppose, I work kind of harder that one time a year. Ish. Yearish).

However, because we hole up in a room for 15 hours a day then eat and drink for another 5  work essentially around the clock during this week, I have not had too many funny things happen. I mean, there was my dress being too tight yesterday and having to get unzipped, but that is just embarrassing and I would not want to write about it.  There is also the time that I said to my big BIG boss, in front of these global smarties, we are “black” when I meant “back” and he was like “Whoa, we are not black.” And i was like “Yea we are.” There was also that one  drunk conversation with these international experts, legit, experts, about my tattoos.  Here is a snapshot of my week, Legit (this is honestly from when I stepped away for like 2 hours).  If I acknowledged you this week, then you are wow.

taco2

And yes, again, everyone has names in my phone. If you are in there as like “Kevin” I don’t like you, just understand it. Every group has names, some of them are like “DON”T ANSWER THESE ASSHOLES” cuz, ya know.

So, my gentle reminders that things were still pretty a-ok.

Reminder #1

Remember, when I was making pasta last weekend for everyone, and after a few too many bottles glasses of wine, I thought this was funny.  FUNNY RIGHT?!!?!

blog 1

Reminder #2

There are only certain people who can call you slore, but when they do, you own that shit.

1

Reminder #3

My phone broke and I have no idea how. It isn’t because I dropped it in water then threw it at a wall when I lost a client at work. I am not positive.

However, when it broke, it would randomly text, message, email, FB respond, etc etc people.  And that was not annoying or embarrassing at all. See.

blog 3

and then the fix, that was not actually a fix…… annoying

 

As a side note, if anyone knows how to work an iphone, more than my “I can turn it on most of the time.” I will pay a hefty fee for you to make this new one work.

Reminders #4-784346

Listen, we like tacos. It is FACT.  But “taco night” isn’t about tacos. It is about being together, and being friends, and being outside, and having moments as your “framily” because that is the shit that rules.  And after a week like this one, when you have missed SO much, you just need taco night. So, there were about a million messages about taco night.  A small sampling of the best.

1

t2t2.png

45.png

Stay tuned for what I am sure will be an eventful taco night.  To call the 01945 FD or not? Next week, the minis and I pop down south for what I am sure will be a complete and total shit show and a miracle if we all make it back legit flawlessly executed vacay.  To blog or not to blog. Dumb question, have you seen the three of us together?????!!!!!

 

 

Weekend in review…. I think.

I thought that for today’s blog, I would do a recap of the weekend.  Then I was like “dear fuck, did I black the ENTIRE thing out?” wow.  What did I do anyway? So, I did what I do, and went through my pictures, and was like “Wow, my friends spend a LOT of time with me in either pajamas or Lulu.” That’s. Embarrassing.  So, a recap of the weekend.

Friday, peewee had his art show.  If you have never been to one before, this is when the parents have to pay $50 for a piece of “art” that they would normally pay zero for to throw out the minis get to display their art. The show is held in a hallway, and it is so claustrophobic that I want to be like “HERE IS MY FUCKING CHECKBOOK, IM OUT.”  There is music and the kids really like it.

Anyway, the mini one has been BEGGING for me to “give him swimming lessons.” Which is actually hysterical because I honest to god can’t swim. I don’t think I took a swimming lesson, I think I took a (literally, single) drowning prevention class.  It retrospect, it is weird, because I grew up on the water and spent summers on a lake. Anyhoo. Seemed like post art show was as good a time as ever.

So, off we go for me to give him “swimming lessons.”  Now, you need to understand that there was not a fucking shot I was going in that pubic (public?) pool?  Because yup.  Pubic.  Oh, and it opens to a mezzanine, that 100 people are sitting at and you think I am going to waddle around in my bathing suit. Nope. That is what I pay for.

Well, I needed to get the minis changed into their suits.  This always presents one of those “single mom” problems, because I don’t have a penis.  Oh, I mean, that should not be a shock to most of you, but what that means, is that I can’t go in the boys changing room.  OK, this is all coming out wrong. What it means is that we need to use the family changing room.   Well, as is par for the course, they were all full….. So, I sort of stand outside one, and brother starts to strip in front of the art show, because that’s how we roll.  When this single woman came out of the “family room.”  It takes everything I have when that shit happens to not be like “Honestly asshole?” And I would have, but I was immediately taken over by whatever just came out of her body.   She clearly eats from a dumpster really needed to go. So minis are changing, brother is like “Mom, she did a stinky, PEE YEW, MOMMY IT STINKS.” And I’m like “What brother, say it louder so everyone knows we didn’t do it.”

Off we go to the pool.  Peewee is so excited because he is like a dog in a car, and they just get so happy all the time this is his big swimming lesson. Bigs, on the other hand, has his period and was like “Whatever, swimming is not cool.”

Off peep goes to swim while bigs scopes for chicks at the pool.  No shit, the kid can SWIM.  There was Friday night after that.  I stopped taking pictures so I am not super clear on what happened.

peep
He doesn’t need a bubble, but I make him wear one because there is honestly not a shot I am going in pubic pool.

Saturday.  Now, this was the day that Peep has been waiting for his entire life.  He had a play date with TWIN GIRLS.  Can you even.  Legit though they are BFF and it was the cutest thing ever.  Of course, as this happened, Bigs wanted to go outside (cool) and I was like “Dude, I didn’t go see if pickles pooped out there yet, so just do a look around.”  Four seconds later “Mom, Pickles pooped and I stepped in it.” Like, did he not understand why I wanted him to look around? And that it was not actually to step in it?  The kid is honestly a shit magnet.

Moving on.  My unicorn and I now decide it is a good idea to take ALL of our boys bowling. Let me re-phrase that. I wanted to nap, she came and got me and was like “no, its cool to go out in pajamas, no one will know, people are totally fine with you not wearing pants” The only reason I went is because they serve beer and the old guy who works there is one of those people that when he is like “Yousobeautiful” you think he actually really means it, and LBH, I need every little bit of help.

So, we have the tres amigos at bowling….. Fast forward that my children think you throw the ball OVERHAND….. Right, so every time they pulled that arm back, I was like “JESUS CHRIST WHO FUCKING TAUGHT YOU TO BOWL.” And they were all like “Um, you.”  OK So at the time, it SEEMED like a good idea to let them all drink gigantic lemonades.  Then this happened.

2
They. Went. Nuts. 

They thought it would be funny to open the windows and yell to the people on the road.  Ok, TBH, it was actually funny for the first 3 minutes, the next 32 were. Fucking. Torture.  If I had pants on I would have walked home. So then this happened.

IMG_3677
Get. Out. 

We slowed down and kicked them out of the car and drove off with the doors open dropped them off at a friend’s house and left.  I mean, there are times it is you or the kids, and this was one of those times I was going to be like “open your mouth and take the Benadryl” “I am mom, I am in charge.”

So from there (and I received a gentle reminder of this today)……  We all have family dinner, time to go home, etc, etc…..  Quick stop for one of our epic sunsets…..

IMG_3681
Pretty princess.  The sunset, not me. Duh. 

Then this.  I challenge all those fuckers to a lip synch battle.  Never done that? Oh, I am a professional, partly because I honestly know every word to every song, and partly because, duh, I am awesome I make the rules so that I win.

So, those of you from 01945, as I was crushing them in the battle, we were jamming, it happened…… We decided all of those minis needed to go have a neck run.  Yup…. Windows down, singing, Saturday night.  It was a little weird when we turned around at the light house and there were all the 13 year olds getting hanky panky  cuz, ya know.

Then, well, then there was Champagne Sunday.  Lately, my weekend starts on Tuesday, and this week has been no exception.  I just have so freaking much going on and 2 days isn’t enough and starting four days early was the only logical solution. So getting drunk on Sunday rather than being productive champagne Sunday is always a nice way to wind down. Oh, and, because I had to take the minis to Target, which, if you remember, I hardly let them out of the house so this was fucking TORTURE…. The story is so much longer than that, but I think I have PTSD from it.  Not STD, the one that you are traumatized.  Yes. That is me.  Post Target. I think my text to the girls said “I am going to drink champagne so I don’t murder someone.” I mean, paraphrasing, but pretty close.  It might have actually been exactly that. Plus, I needed my girls to analyze something from me, because, duh, that is how I roll.

So, I know from here, it seems like the weekend is going pretty swell, right? Right?  Well, Sunday night = everyone has to get clean…. So, I gently remind my minis of that (read previous blog about why this is a problem here https://wordpress.com/post/naramitchell.wordpress.com/69

I somehow bribe Bigs into taking a shower with Mini (I really wish I could remember what my bribe was…. I bet I was like “Front row seats to a Warriors game.” I mean, I really would say something like that….)

So, they agree to the shower, and I hear mini “Kin, kinny, where are your boobies? Kin, kinny, you have a ding dong and balls too.” (Honestly, I have NO idea where he gets “Balls” from.  Ding dong is me, and there are tons of variations, but “balls” is something I can HONESTLY say never comes from my mouth.  I’m not all like “Bros, how are your balls?”)

And that is it, the weekend in review. I think. I am sure I am forgetting something else though.

Why I will never online date, V2. This nest is a hot mess.

Anyone else notice I have no idea how to number shit or change the name of my blog so it isn’t “naramitchell” Technology + me = no bueno.

Anyhoo, back to me.

So anyway, yesterday we started in the “Why I won’t date online” details.  Memba?  I mean, as much as LOVE waking up to an inbox filled with these folks,

nope
I love that it says “Want kids, definitely.” Dude, no. Just don’t breed.

let’s face it, I am way too fucking judgy, and no, no, I don’t want to be in your boots.  Or your anything. Ever.  It’s hard to find the time to talk, let alone date all of these fucktarts who I swear my friends put on there to punk me kind, basically upstanding, sort of employed men. Now, don’t worry, we will go into greater detail about some of the fucking gems who I bet don’t kill people kind folks I met through online dating, but first, this.

I had this moment of revelation, at one point, what I like to refer to as “Who the FUCK do I think I am?” There I am, swiping “nope” on all of my 99% sweet ass matches (above)…. When I pause on what appears to be a sort of normalish fellow.  Breezing through his profile, I am like “Whoa, back up there Mr. Nara #2.” When I see that he has written “If you are one of those crazy ass chicks who has pictures of you kissing your dog, you are not for me.”  What sort of sociopath says that? I am sorry, but THIS is the action of a woman who is CLEARLY way too attached to her dog normal.

20150814Nara-78
I find this totally normal.

All the sudden, I was doing a major fucking “Pump the breaks” on ME….. Listen, you don’t need to tell me that I am the best at eating tacos and drinking wine single mother in the world, who hardly has a ton of baggage. HONESTLY, who do I think I am….. All of the sudden, the guy up above, gulp, is looking like an actual candidate.

That is the thing with getting back into dating….. Your friends, your family, your dog, your co-workers, they all tell you how great you are.  If you are like me, you make your kids say “Mom, you are a beautiful princess” 2 times a day.  I’m not kidding.  It is basic manners people.

Then, you dive into the murky waters of dating, and WTF, these people don’t think I am the most god damn perfect person in the world? They need to check themselves, or, OMG.  It is me.  I was going through my phone.  I. Legit. Hate. Myself. You. Should. Too.

Untitled
Yup, that would be me texting about ice cream and pasta at 9:00 am.

Oh just wait, it gets worse. I also have a habit of sending my BFF’s selfies.  I want them to remember how much they love me when they are not with me. Don’t believe me? Oh, ok. APPARENTLY I PICK THE UGLIEST FUCKING PICTURES ON THE PLANET!?!??!?!?!

Untitled
Oh, Ok, I see how it is, I send the grossest pictures of myself. Ok, fair enough.

Then, then I remember this group text, and I am like ‘HOW THE FUCK HAVE MY FRIENDS NOT BROKEN UP WITH ME YET?”

First, yes, everyone has a name in my phone. It’s a long story. No, they are not all good. Second, yes, whistling and sneezing all in 7 seconds. God fuck I am so beautiful.

Untitled
Classy bitch right here.

Here is the thing, I wish I could say that this is just me SOMETIMES, nope.  This is basically me on my A game.  Dead serious.  This is me just on like a normal Tuesday. And yet, I am all judgymcjudger about people on match.com.  WHO DO I THINK I AM!?!?!?!!?

Every day, really eeerrrry day, it becomes more and more clear, why I should not date online. Well, or at all I suppose.

Some more “nopes”

  • Living in your moms basement
  • Sleeping past 10 on the reg (I have no idea why “10” is the magic number, it just is)
  • Non – pet things as pets (snakes, spiders, anteaters,, a giraffe would be ok though)
  • “Looking” for a job.  Lotto shit I am looking for, “job, career, stability” nope
  • Any sort of a lack in sarcasm (remember when I was talking to the one guy, and joking around, I was like “Ha, nope, never want to talk to you again.” and the next day, he messaged me like “Hey, don’t know what I did to make you say you never want to see me again.”  Welp, you were stupid. That is what you did.

You honestly wouldn’t think I had just written a blog about how much I suck.

Next blog.  Yup.  More why I won’t go online.  More of my gem finds.  These may just be the ones who, ahem, could be a bit more modest.