Dear Ferry Ticket Counter Lady:
Whew! That was close! I’m writing this letter to you whilst sitting on the ferry you in no way helped me board.
Thank you for your complete indifference and 0.0 sense of urgency to the line of customers waiting for assistance in getting on this ferry. Your lack of interest to the patrons who pre-paid for this now sold out ferry really helped me feel like I wasn’t going to miss the proverbial (and actual) boat. Continue reading “Open Letter To The Ticket Counter Lady At The Ferry Terminal”
I’m not sure what it is about me, but I have this uncanny power to have complete strangers tell me the weirdest, most personal details of their lives within minutes of meeting them. I know this sounds like an exaggeration, but I promise you it’s true. There’s the time I was getting a pedicure and the woman pretty much told me that she was human trafficked here from Vietnam. Or the time that I was in TJ Maxx with a friend and a woman blocked our path and demanded our opinion on some crappy things she was buying. This small traffic stop resulted in a 15 minute conversation about how she is living with her ex husband, whom she hates, but loves his money. I don’t know what it is about me, but I just bring it out in people. It’s actually not a bad thing; it’s great for me because it gives me awesome stories. However, there is a time and place for a story, and when I’m laying on a table getting a facial, it’s not the time to talk about your bowel habits.
Continue reading “Is That Mud On Your Face?”
Summer is in full swing, which means I get to see all of your lovely beach pictures while I rot away at my desk. Really, it’s ok. I’m not mad at the fact that I chose a shitty path in life which relegates me to sitting in a 8×8 cube 8 hours a day. Why would I have picked a profession that would allow me the freedom of having the summers off’? That would be ridiculous. Nay, I prefer the just above annoying buzz of fluorescent lights any day. You guys don’t know what you’re missing.
As I sit here and rage-scroll through Facebook, it reminds me of a time when I, too, was fun and fancy free, letting lose in the sand. It was a simpler time, a time when my only concern was what tape I was going to bring with me to the sandy shores of Narragansett Bay. Did I want to listen to a full album, or perhaps a mix tape? Maybe both, depending on how long I was going to be there. This was also a time when sunblock was a mere suggestion. I spent nearly every summer looking like a burn victim, pouring gallons of aloe on my sun-abused skin. But it was a good time and I didn’t really mind it so much. However, the BEST beach season I can remember was when I was about 14 years old. That was the year I was allowed to ride the “beach bus” with my friends and hang out all day. Of course, this fun experience was short-lived after one of the most embarrassing things to ever happen to an adolescent girl took place in the summer of 1994.
Continue reading “I Think You Lost Something.”
As all four of you who read this blog know, this was the year that I was going to start having adventures and doing things that I don’t normally do. To kick-start this experiment, I started doing stand up. Super fun, awesome time doing that……..but it wasn’t enough. I needed something big, a massive challenge. So, I did what any other normal person would do: I booked a vacation.
Truth: this vacation was actually through a dating website. (No, not OK Cupid. Can you even fucking imagine???). It was through Match.com, which is slightly less embarrassing. You see, they have these events, trying to get single people to put the pizza down, get out of their pajamas, and integrate into the terrible, awful, miserable world of dating. I had attended exactly 0.0% of these events locally. However, on this particular day, something caught my eye. I saw an ad for a 9 day vacation to tropical Costa Rica. The price was reasonable, the trip would have a tour guide, and the company wasn’t a scam. The age range was 25-45 (not bad), it was guaranteed to be an appropriate mix of both men and woman (excellent), and we would be traveling to various places in the country. I thought it over for a bit, then said fuck it (!) and booked the trip. This was me, living la vida loca! I envisioned lying on a gorgeous white sand beach, drink in hand, listening to the waves crashing. I would be relaxed, happy, and most likely drunk. Sign me up!
Continue reading “Welcome to the Jungle…You’re Going To Die.”
Not too long ago, I had to order a bag for my work laptop. I just wanted a simple, black shoulder bag, so I picked a sort of cheap one. No big deal. The very next day it came in. When I opened the box and reached in to grab it, my body went into freak out mode. It was like I just grabbed a hot iron. Also, my teeth hurt. It was like they were set on edge. I wanted to bite whatever was in there. Suddenly, I realized what happened: I had touched something on the Do Not Touch list.
Much like the “Do Not Fly” list, I have a “Do Not Touch” list. I have gone 20+ years of my life not touching foam, velour, or any other similar material for good reason. Egg crate mattresses? Forget it. Foam paint brushes? No way. Once, I unknowingly bought a Magic Eraser because the marketing was so good. My ex had opened it and it was laying on the counter and I immediately knew I would never use it, just based on its material. Continue reading “Don’t Bite That.”
Six minutes are nothing in the grand scheme of things. You don’t give a second thought to that small an increment of time. But, I have had six minutes stuck in my head for a month. Why? That was the amount of time I was given to try stand-up for the first time.
I have been toying with the idea of doing stand-up for years. In fact, for my 28th birthday in 2008, one of my best friends gave me an amazing gift. It was a wooden bar stool, a bottle of water, a fake microphone, and brick-style wallpaper that was glued on a pull down window shade. Essentially, it was a travelling comedy club. He had wanted me to practice at home before I went on a stage. I vowed that I would get up on that stage by the end of the year. Then, 2008 came and went. No biggie, I would just do it by the end of 2009. Then it became, “I’ll do it before I hit 30!” Then, I just gave up.
Continue reading “Six Minutes”
I know I’m a little early on this post considering Valentine’s Day (or Forever Alone!!! Day, for singles) isn’t until next week, but who cares. I was at CVS today and received a full frontal assault of red, pink and white the second I walked in. My initial reaction was an eye roll that would give Liz Lemon a run for her money. All that Russel Stover, ooey-gooey sentimentality has always grated my last nerve. I’ve never really been a fan of this “holiday.” It’s not that I’m not romantic; in fact, I am a bit of a hopeless one. I just don’t like being told I need to do it on a certain day. Nothing says I love you like a life-sized teddy bear proclaiming: “You’re ‘beary’ special!”, or some shitty coconut filled chocolates. However, I do enjoy watching men try to find a card that doesn’t look like they did a grab and go. They look as comfortable as Richard Simmons wearing pants.
Continue reading “My Bloody Valentine”
Everyone remembers their first time. Some people have fond memories, others would rather not remember it at all. There are those who wait until the right one comes along, while others just want to get it done. I, on the other hand, lost my virginity by accident when I was about seven years old. It was quick and fast and I had no idea what happened. I had it coming to me. It was my fault and no ones else’s. I wanted to be cool, fit in with the other kids in my neighborhood. They were all doing it, and I wanted to also. I was reckless. I got what I deserved.
I lost my virginity to my brother’s bike.
Allow me to explain.
Continue reading “My First Time.”
Yesterday was my birthday. I’m still waiting for your cards……but anyway. I had a great day; had a massage, saw my friends, had an awesome dinner, went for drinks. I didn’t think it would get any better than that, but as usual, I was wrong. As I was sitting and sippin’ on my delicious drink at the bar, I got a notification I had a message on OKC. Of course, my friends wanted me to read it immediately. So, I did.
I’m just going to post the conversation as it happened, in real-time. Because my friend’s are assholes just like me, we decided then and there that this needed to be addressed. So, we did. While drinking.
Just a warning (MOM), there is some “strong” language in here. I debated on whether or not I should post these, but I saw that he disabled his profile today, so I don’t care. I like to think that I had a hand in that. Oh….and in case you’re wondering, I disabled mine too. I took screenshots tonight for posterity’s sake. After last night, I need a mental break from this.
So, dear readers, I present to you, The Message! Can’t make this shit up, folks.
Continue reading “OkStupid: Part Two”
If any of you have read my initial blog post (Catharsis), then you know would know that I am in the process of a divorce. While I’m not hiding this aspect of my life, I’m certainly not making it my defining feature. That being said, I have started to wonder what the world of dating is like now. I haven’t dated anyone since 2003, and things have completely changed since then. There was no Facebook, there was no texting, people still called each other on the phone. There wasn’t even MySpace (I don’t think?). So yeah…its a lot different now.
I decided about a month ago to geeeeeeeeeeeeently ease my toe into the dating pool, just to see what was going on these days. I work 40 hours a week, and I don’t really do the bar scene. Most, if not all, of my friends are married with children, as are all of their friends. So, pickings are slim. There’s really only one other option to meet people at this point: a dating site.
Continue reading “OkStupid: Why Didn’t You Just Tell Me You’re A Complete Maniac?”