Evolution

Resolutions:
I hereby resolve to continue to love and hate my job until I decide it's time to quit. Which may be in 2013. Or it may not.

I hereby resolve to continue to workout 5 days a week, on average, so that I can eat whatever I feel like (within reason) and not gain weight. And if I do gain weight, I resolve to still love myself while I quit my once-a-day chai and cookies habit until that weight is lost so that I can start that habit back up.

...And if you didn't go to the gym in all of 2012, can you please go when I'm not there during January... like at 7 a.m.? I really do feel like I've earned the right to those treadmills at 6 p.m. and hate how I can't have one the entire month of January... (I'm an asshole.) 

Lightning doesn't strike twice

My parents were married 43 years ago today. They dated for 6 years, starting in High School. I looked at each boyfriend until I was 21/22 (the ages they were when they married) with "if I followed in my parents' footsteps, I'd marry this asshole."

Hipster Holidays and a Ducky New Year

Have a Merry Christmas or Emma will cut you.

It's Christmas Eve and I've been kind of blue this morning which is pretty normal for the holidays, but still unwelcomed. Part of my problem, I'm sure, is that I didn't take the day off. So I'm sitting at home, pretending to work, sending just enough emails to look like I shouldn't be fired.

I feel fine

It's been a busy week and will be a busy weekend.

I should be working right now, but with the end of the world happening today, I thought I should reflect on the signs of the impending apocalypse from this week:

Awkward Embrace

Would you be surprised to know that I'm bad at hugging?

Or that I'm bad at drawing?

I wasn't raised in an unfeeling home. My parents hugged me all the time. Still do. Once I'm in a romantic relationship and all physical contact has been previously initiated by that partner, I'm great at hugging, and snuggling, and hand holding. I love it.

However, outside of my parents and well established romantic relationships, I'm a social outcast at hugging. Some may theorize it's my parents' midwestern upbringing. But I was raised in Colorado. We wear jeans to everything. We're laid back. We hug. Or some people do....

Sandbells ring. Are you listening?

...on my face, sweat is glistening. 

A beautiful sight. I'm sweaty tonight. 

Tomorrow I won't be walking anywhere. 

I've talked about my gym a few times. Notably featuring my sweaty ass. I'm pretty much a creature of habit at the gym which I know is why I don't gain muscle, lose weight, or find a rich husband. So tonight I broke out of my grind and took a Sandbells class.

Here's how the gym's website describes it:

Grip it. Toss it. Swing it. Slam it. Challenge your grip strength and core stability with this new fitness tool. The Sandbell can be used like a dumbbell, medicine ball, kettle bell, sliding disc and much more. Sandbell training will not only physically challenge you from head to toe, it will leave you wanting more! cardio * strength * flexibility * 

I get incredibly nervous about taking new classes. Before puberty I was an incredibly athletic and fearless kid. I pointed my skis straight down the hill and had such a great throwing arm I played third base in softball. Then puberty hit and I picked up overwhelming self-consciousness and fear of pain. I also really don't like to suck at things. I don't have to win, but I have to be a contender. Or I don't want to play. So I quit athletics and I picked up smoking. At which I excelled.

Hipster Craft Fair and the Jock

Text with WC today.

1:56 PM
Me: Hey guy who likes shopping ... Hipster craft fair this evening. Maybe good for finding gifts for the family. Maybe just a bunch of overpriced junk. Definitely lots of men with beards and women with awkward haircuts. Interested? (He really does love shopping.)

3:06 PM
Me: Remember when I invited you to go to the craft fair only an hour ago? I'm taking back the invite because my sister called and she wants to hang out. 

Lessons in Corporate Douchery

It's been a rough work week. For those of you who know me in real life, you know I have a weird job that I alternatively hate and feel cultishly devoted to. At a very high level, I manage Procurement for a technology company. "Procurement" sounds important, but it just means I negotiate the purchase of stuff... mostly equipment I don't understand and labor services to put that equipment together. This means my entire job is to be a customer at all times. And since the customer is always right, I have free reign to be a gigantic douche to my vendors. And then vendors offer me free tickets to things and buy me lunch and shit. It's a pretty cool gig.

I'm an excellent driver.

There's been a reoccurring theme in my relationship conversations (internal monologues and external dialogs) of the concept that we accept the relationships we think we deserve. Alternatively stated: We get what we ask for. (Not to be confused with "We get what we deserve"...that's very different than what we THINK we deserve. Note the subtle difference.)

This theme surfaced again most recently in "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" which I saw alone on Black Friday and cried so hard I nearly suffocated myself trying to swallow audible sobs. (2 stars out of 5 if you want my rating. Everything makes me cry so the cry-o-meter is no indication of its cinematic prowess.) Even in the trailer there's a quote "Why do I, and everyone I love, pick people who treat us like we're nothing?"

Cyber Monday: A Haiku or two

On Monday web shops

advertise their best prices.

I want stupid crap!

Cyberman

How to Give Thanks in 25 Steps

Wednesday

Step 1: Spend $100 at Whole Foods. Arrange food on counter attractively.  

First Distraction: Realize you really are a fire hazard.

Wednesday is the new Friday.

I have to admit I was SUPER excited when I got the holiday cup from Starbucks the day after Halloween. Some years I'm definitely a grinch and others, like this year, I'm ready to put up lights and listen to Christmas music November 5th. In honor of my Christmas cheer, I'd like to offer a guide for people struggling for gift ideas.

Can I bring my knitting to the sports bar?

Preface: WC is not my boyfriend. For reasons and explanations I'll keep to myself, we are dating, but non-exclusively... I have little reason to believe this will change in the near future. And thus...
__________________________________

Just for giggles (or because I've been too upbeat after that funeral I went to yesterday), I Googled "where to meet men."My results included articles in Cosmo, Ladies Home Journal, a feminist site called "All Women Stalk," and 1.1 billion other links to what can only be assumed to be quality advice.

Here are my efforts so far (online profiles excluded because they're not remotely entertaining until you've actually met a man who wears ski pants on the first date):

1. Cooking Class.  I did it. I took a 3 session cheese making class because how could I go wrong with a man who loves cheese? And it started off promising as there was a very hot young nurse in my first class...  but he failed to show up the for the other 2 classses. But now I can make cheese. Cheese even my BFF refuses to try, but it's good and I haven't murdered anyone who has tried it yet.

Quick thinking or Random thoughts

1. I've been thinking about getting a ring tattoo. The hard part is that I kind of want it on the middle finger of my left hand, but I don't want anyone to think it's so when I flip them off it's more artful. I don't flip off well with my left hand anyway. I'm a right-handed flipper.

2. I was blue yesterday and then I had wine and talked politics with my dad which is normally a bad idea, but for some reason reminded me that everything is okay. I mean, how can you take someone seriously who says "Jon Stewart is an idiot" and then wants to buy your mom an iPad mini even though she's a Kindle Touch kind of woman? It's just incomprehensible and is filed away as "my dad rules (and is probably crazy)."

Age is something like a number. A very big number.

"DOCTOR!"

For a long time I refused to watch TV shows on Netflix because I knew it had the potential to ruin my life. If I start watching my Buffy DVDs, I don't leave the house again until I've watched all 7 seasons (the musical episode and Hush at least 5 more times each). But then I succumbed. Succame(d). I gave in.

Fair warning: This is a reaaally dorky post and contains spoilers about Doctor Who if you're not current through Season 6.... Buffy and Angel ended in like 2002 so if you haven't watched it yet, you're on your own. But I imagine most of you have already stopped reading...

I started watching the new Doctor Who series this spring and would stay up until 2:00 a.m. on week nights watching episodes on my laptop which I would take to bed with me (having a TV in the bedroom is bad)...

I plowed through those, then watched all of Torchwood, then all of a Sherlock (same writer as Doctor Who: Stephen Moffat) and then I was just sad. And terribly devoid of British accents in my bedroom. So I started watching Angel. Despite being a gigantic fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and just about everything else Joss Whedon has ever touched, I barely watched any of the 5 seasons of Angel when they were on TV so there are tons of new-to-me episodes.

The Work Crush Chronicles: Episode 2 - The Seduction

I just made myself laugh thinking of "seduction." If you need a recap on the pre-dating situation, please discover my sweaty ass here. In fact, you will likely need a recap as I reference each of the Sweaty Ass Events below and it's important that you keep up. 

Grasping
Once I decided to woo WC instead of just sweat at him from afar I had to come up with a plan. As David Sedaris wrote: "If you aren't cute, you may as well be clever." (Me Talk Pretty One Day.)  I was grasping at straws to find things in common. Here's what I had:

1. Las Vegas: He loves; I hate. I milked this for what I could. 
2. Politics: I'm a hippy; he owns guns. Limited potential for relationship starting. 
3. Sports: I'm an idiot; he's a huge jock (see also "Are you watching basketball?" below). I'm already bored with this topic. 
4. Work: ding ding ding... except it could also be the downfall of any attempted wooing if someone is actually smart enough to realize what a bad idea it is to date a coworker. Especially someone with my track record. 
5. Working out at fancy gyms. See Sweaty Ass event #2

You'll never get me alive!

WC was over the other night to pick me up and he stopped at the stove.

Him: Can we fix this? 
Me: Fix what?
Him: This is a total fire hazard. 
Me: The stove isn't on. 
Him: But the cats could turn it on. 
Me: The cats? The cats could turn the stove on?
Him: Accidentally. 
Me: You need thumbs to turn these knobs! Cats don't have thumbs!
Him: But it could happen... 
Me: ......
Him: Can we just move the towels? 

I threw them to the side of the stove defiantly...(And really, cats ARE dicks. Thanks Meghan.)

Halloween years past

2004

I was a Republican. Don't be offended. I mean no harm. 

You be you, you!

To recap what we learned last week, this is how I end up in relationships:

1. Dislike someone or have strongly neutral feelings about them.
2. That someone says they like me.
3. I say to that person, "that's dumb."
4. They say, "please?"
5. "Ok."

Fall Back

I tend to be really sensitive to major seasonal changes. I'm not talking in a moon-gaia kind of way, but... well... maybe I am a witch. Tis the season after all.

I don't sleep well and I tend to be more prone to depressive episodes. Every spring I want to quit everything and start over: new job, new city, new life... Every fall I just want summer back because everything is better if you can take a walk through the neighborhood at 8 pm without worrying about getting mugged in the dark.

But every year fall comes and after a few days/weeks of moping about the loss of summer, I realize I FUCKING LOVE FALL!

Persistence is a drink served at least twice

I've never been good at being the pursuer. I have crushes all the time but do pretty much nothing about them. In all my major relationships (and some not-relatioships) that weren't related to online dating (which is a whole different animal) I have been a somewhat innocent bistander to the initiation rituals. So, before we talk about my one and only success (I'm alluding to WC), let's talk about how things usually go.

This is a long one, so go grab a beer/coffee/pizza and allow Creedence to set the tone...

The Unspoken Word

Words spoken:

What kind of ghetto ass place am I working?

Words unspoken: 

Obama: "I am going to eat you alive." 

The Work Crush Chronicles: Episode 1 - The Sweaty Ass

I've known WC for 13+ years. He worked for the same company I joined right out of college. I always respected him, chatted with him, and enjoyed working with him when we'd cross paths, but at that first company, we didn't cross paths much after the first year.

I was super excited when he joined my current company (we'll call it Mayo just so it has a name) because I had enjoyed working with him before. He quickly became my work crush...

It wasn't until I started thinking about this post that I realized how much of my pre-non-relationship with WC has been predicated by a sweaty ass.

And so we begin.

As Seen on TV

My gym offers fruit; usually apples and bananas. I stepped out of my car this evening only to slip on a banana peel that someone had kindly tossed on the ground. I was unaware that one actually COULD slip on a banana. If only I'd paid attention to all those Scooby Doo and Looney Tunes cartoons from my childhood... I probably still wouldn't have noticed the peel under foot, but I wouldn't have felt as foolish.

Do bananas wear Chuck Taylors?

A biological imperative

Last night I dreamt my sister and I were going to the country and western warehouse (?) to buy little cowboy hats for the her 4 and 7 year olds (??).  While we were driving there we were talking about depression which we've both dealt with to varying degrees in our lives. She says to me something like "But if you feel the need to cry, you just have to do it because it clears your head and slowly whatever you were sad about starts to be something you can rationalize, understand, and get over." 

In the dream it was like this strange epiphany for me that all the times I try not to cry I'm actually feeding my depression but if I cry it out, the depression starts to leak out my eyeballs (???).

I woke up thinking that this conversation had really happened and was very confused because I couldn't remember a country and western warehouse store ever existing (think Costco with chaps in bulk) and why in the fuck would we be going there anyway?

Buy these here. But I have to ask, is this site racist? If so, I apologize.
I don't know what "custom chinks" are., but at least they're local?

Chronicle #99.2: The Creepy VP Part 3

Subtitle: Dude, Where's My Car?

Remember we left off with my drunken exit from a wine bar about 11:30 p.m. on a Monday. 

*All times are approximate...

6:30 a.m. Tuesday morning

Oh god. What was I thinking? I'm home, right? Ugh. I have to go to work. Hmmm... I literally passed out on top of my phone...

Phone log:

• 12:30 a.m. Missed Call - no message
• 2:30 a.m. Missed Call - no message
• 4:00 a.m. Missed Call - no message

Taco To-Day: Wedding Bells and Armpit Farts are Ringing

Dined here twice this past weekend. 

First I have to apologize for taking the blog down on Friday. I got nervous because of an exchange that happened prior to the arrival of WC at the wedding venue. I'll explain shortly because it's important that you start listening to the Weekend Wedding Theme Song I dedicated to Kelly. It was meant to prevent  any freak outs or nervous behavior. This song is meant not just for dancing, but for clapping, bouncing, and double fist-pumping. I'm not sure anyone else would nominate it for the weekend, but shut up and play along with me.

Not Responsible for Broken Windshields

Can I put this sign on my car and then throw rocks out the window? Does the sign alone eliminate the liability for my actions? I'm just wondering because I think I could start making signs and putting them up around my life:

"Not responsible for my snarky comments to what I perceive as your idiocy"?

Chronicle #99.2: The Creepy VP Part 2

Arm Candy?

As mentioned previously, it was hard for Steve and I to get together for our real first date due to his schedule and my stubbornness about his last-minute invites. Eventually, however, my curiosity killed my resolve and we did an unplanned thing. It was a Monday and he texted that he had a happy hour with clients in the afternoon/early evening, but I could meet him there and then we'd have dinner.

The client-event was to be held at a really nice joint downtown... $50/plate kind of place. I don't do first dates with that kind of per plate cost so I told him we could meet there, but we wouldn't be having dinner there.

I took a cab downtown and met him at his event. I wandered in, asked for the company Steve worked for and found him. He gave me a hug and introduced me around to his coworkers and clients. It then dawned on me that this was more than a convenient place to meet. I was being shown off.

Taco To-Day: Day Dreams

 I was taking a walk the other day when this happened:

BIRDNAPPED!

Awkward Chronicle Episode #99: The Creepy VP

Part 1 of what I expect will be a 3 part series. 

The Meeting: 

I met this guy at a bar once. We'll call him Steve because that's his name. I was 32. He was 42 and the VP of sales for a beer import company. For some reason I made out with him AT the bar. Totally tacky, I know. It's not my normal behavior (in fact I'm capable of being rather rude when someone interrupts my night out with friends to be... I don't know... social and normal?).

Sometimes I get tired of being called fickle by my adoring friends so I'll set all types aside and, in this case, just accepted the flattery of a stranger in a bar.  And he was allll flattery. "You're the full package... smart, successful, beautiful..." Well, thank you, sir. Yes you MAY shove your tongue down my throat in public.

Get the hint, Barry

I'm not a girl who can be bought. I can pay my own airfare.... I can't believe you had someone from your staff invite me. Who do you think you are?

And I know you're saving me a seat, but I don't want it, loser. I can't believe how desperate you've become. You used to speak to my heart.. but now...

You threaten me "Last dinner...."? Whatever. Get over yourself.

I almost caved after the second to last one. The simple, imploring "Dinner"? It reminded me of your sweet vulnerability when I used to know you. (Maybe I never knew you...)

Taco To-Day: Baguette Way

My ex and I had exchanged gifts the day before Christmas and then broke up the day after. I'd seen the break-up coming, but I really liked the watch I'd gotten for him and wanted him to have it. He gave me an equally awesome gift by paying for knitting lessons. So while the lessons ended up being about a month after we broke up, I knitted him a scarf.

I finished the scarf in March and still haven't given it to him. I sent him the following email this week:

I had a dream about you last night that you had shaved your beard and were working as a concierge in a Vegas hotel. It was awkward.... some of that is coming from the fact that I'm about to hire this 24 year old kid who was a concierge in a hotel in NYC for the last year... at least I can only assume that's what my subconscious was tying together. 

This is better than the dreams I've been having about trying to rescue puppies running across the highway.

I have something I'd like to mail you. Can I have your address? I promise it's not scary or evil even though I've blown you off for the last 9 months. It's okay if not. 

Hope you're well.

Unicorn Dogs

Things I should be doing, but I'm not....

• Cleaning the closet. 
• Cleaning the fridge.
• Repainting the ceiling in my bedroom. (I had a new fixture installed in... oh... February... and I still haven't sanded down the plaster which patched some of the holes and repainted.)
• Laundry. 
• Finishing any of the 800 craft projects I've started in the last year, but got distracted and started another. Here's one I did finish: 

Motorcycle M******

*Names omitted to protect ... I don't know... someone....

While dining with my Work Crush the other night, I was showing him pictures on my phone of Palm Springs and he went backwards through them and found the one I had covertly taken of him from the week prior.

He says, "What the hell is this?" 

And I said "well, um, it's a picture I took of you without your knowledge... I don't know why I did it *coughilikeyoucough* but you can delete it if you want." 

WC: "Did you show it to anyone?" 

Me: "No."

But what I meant was "Not yet." 

I hate getting busted.

Taco To-Day: There are no stupid questions

If you're in a coma, do you still poop?

If I call pooping "talking to my accountant," is that disrespectful to my actual accountant? She's real nice.

What is the point of nude underwear? If I wanted to be nude I wouldn't wear underwear.

Why do I have to buy a kitchen utensil every time I go to Ikea?

Who thought this was a good idea?

Because a giant phallus is less creepy than a plastic face? 

The Anne Chronicle: Episode 12/26/2011

Sometimes when I'm really blue I think about running away. I'm pretty sure everyone does this. I have these elaborate fantasies about just moving to another town, renting a tiny little apartment, and having some local stranger fall in love with me. And then I realize I'm Julia Roberts in "The Hand that Rocks to Cradle" except I didn't have an abusive husband. And then I feel stupid so I dump the fake guy and start just making friends in my new fictional town and being satisfied with that. Then I realize I'm Buffy in that episode after she kills her vampire boyfriend and she moves to LA and is a waitress. And that's when I turn off the TV and take a walk.

But I would smile more. Because I didn't just murder my boyfriend probably. 

Taco To-Day: The Palm Springs Edition

Technically I only had tacos once this week, but I did stop at a Del Taco, so I took a picture of the cup.

Iced Tea. Not a taco. 

One of my very best friends is getting married in October and we went to celebrate with a bachelorette weekend in Palm Springs... and on the way my travel companions and I needed refreshments.

Mmmmm... Sausage

Post teaser:

Can Victoria's Secret sue me for using this image?

Episode #43: But I'm a 90s bitch...

I love break-up songs that are all upbeat and danceable. I'm currently obsessed with this song by Icona Pop, "I Love It."  I've probably listened to it 100 times in the last 2 months. Last summer I loved "The Sun Ain't Shining No More" by Asteroid Galaxy Tour even though I think it's supposed to insult my feminist sensibilities... but it was so damned catchy.

To further your education in the dating adventures of your host on this blog journey, I bring you a list of break-ups where I was not the decision maker (even though in some cases I should have been).

Reasons I've been dumped by dudes who weren't my boyfriend:

Taco To-day

Because my friend Katie doesn't think I have culinary diversity, I begin a new series called Taco To-day wherein I chronicle how often I eat tacos or taco-like meals in any given week.

I would have taken more pictures, but I didn't think about it until I was making lunch today. However, I will explain the rest of the week.

Sunday: Taco-less.

Monday: No tacos, but I had Pupusas which are Salvadorian and I put green chili on them so they're a little like Tacos... if you don't understand the difference between El Salvador and Mexico.

Thank you to Wikipedia for having a picture. 

Love/Hate

I've exhausted myself on analysis, so today I will do a Love/Hate post with no real direction.

Love. Totally productive vandalism.

Tag on arrow? Unproductive. Hula Hoop sticker over walker? Productive.

Episode #42: Listen All Y'all, It's a Sabotage

As a recovering sabotager, you'd think I'd be able to recognize the behavior more quickly in others. If I did, I might have been able to address it like an adult instead of getting frustrated, flustered, and then angry enough to say something hurtful... which I did instead. Sorry, WC.

In honor of relationship sabotagers everywhere, I thought I'd rehash some of my best reasons for not seeing someone again, or ever, in an order I can't explain, but which is neither wholly chronological nor in order of significance.

1. Alex. Oh, my first sabotage. He suckered me in twice and I crushed him both times after less than 6 months each. I was 14 and he was 16, and then 15 and 17. We met at church camp. Hit first base in the chapel... and second, too (wait... what is second? I'm just talking about up the shirt). Anyway, he told me he loved me in a week... and that I was his lighthouse in the storm... and other things that terrified my little heart into dumping him via snail mail. Twice. At least I can trace my fear of people depending on me back to my first significant relationship vs... you know... in response to some actual shitty relationship.

Awkward Chronicles Episode #84: Ski Pants

I bring you "Ski Pants." Oh how my friends relished in this story at the time.

The story is set in hippy town about 45 minutes from where I live... which is usually a deal breaker for me. (See also "why I won't date you"...although location didn't make the list, I'd make it #11... it's probably more like #4... I'll have to rethink that post). Occasionally, however, I try to prove to my friends that I'm not, in fact, Seinfeld, but a unique butterfly willing to give any good-hearted soul a chance.

Enter the yoga instructor. We met online. I had low expectations because, yeah, I had to drive 45 minutes because he didn't own a car (strike 2... him living 45 minutes away being strike 1 if you're not keeping up), but he was nice and I like yoga.

Dipping your Buttered Bread

I've done some internet dating. I'm not ashamed. I'm not necessarily proud either, but as someone who is typically annoyed by the guys who approach me at a bar (not that it happens often), I have to meet men somehow, right?

So I've been online and offline multiple times and one learns to screen their candidates to narrow the field of potential suiters. Deal breakers, in order of how fast I will click off their profile:

1. No profile picture. Call me vain. I care that the potential father of the children I don't want has all of his teeth. Or a nice bridge.

Rhymes with Mayo

I think I'm in the process of breaking up with my job. It started off like any wonderful relationship where you're so obsessed with the other person that you don't mind that you're losing a tiny bit of the life you used to know because you're spending so much time with them.

And then you get to that easy phase where everything feels in equilibrium. You fight. You love. You live. You're okay that part of your definition is You and Him/Her/Whatever.

And then you get a little bored. You still love. And you still fight, but it all feels... like something you've done before. So you take a trip. And realize it might have been easier not to.

FAQs - Pronounced fahcks... like "I wanna ahks you a question"

Q: Who are you?
A: I'm a woman. I'm a sister, an aunt, a daughter, a professional, a friend, and a nut. I'm 35. Single. I am not a comedian, but I laugh every time someone says "balls" because it makes for great comedy.

Q: Why are you here?
A: Someone amazing and beautiful told me to start a blog and I decided it might not be a bad idea to write things down sometimes.

Q: Why are you writing this?
A: Why aren't you?

Q: Why am I reading this?
A: Because the meaning of life might not be 42. It might be connecting with strangers. And laughing at the dumb shit that I say, do, think, and feel...Well, maybe not the meaning of YOUR life....