First off, I totally promise this is not going to turn into a "I hate men" site, because I don't hate men. Well, I mean, I clearly hate some men. But then I hate women too. I'm an equal opportunity hater. Just to be fair, I'll keep this like it always was...where I pretty much just hate other people. (You know what you did.)
But you know what I really hate?? I hate it when people walk up to me, pat me on the shoulder and say, "How are you doing?" with this pitiful expectant look on their face. It's really awkward for me, I mean...there is a LOTTA pressure to feel heartbroken and bitter when you get dumped. My standard, "I'm fine. How are you?" is usually met with silence and then a "well, if you ever want to talk...." which is nice and all, but it's almost like people are disappointed if you're not walking around with puffy eyes and a handful of kleenex. Luckily, I am finally able to walk around sniffling with a handful of Kleenex -- unfortunately, it's because I have allergies - but for God's sake! Don't tell anyone...I think they're secretly relieved!
I choose to look at my glass as half-broken!! You know, so you can throw it out and buy a new one?? One that is all trendy and cool. NOW, I am finally free to fulfill my lifelong dream of marrying for money! You know, like they do in the movies...or in New Jersey. Like that!
Couple of small issues I have run into in my pursuit of this new dream:
1. Rich men aren't usually looking for non-supermodel women of a certain age... a number that will never be mentioned on this blog...
2. I don't know any rich men.
3. My friends don't know any rich men.
4. I'm too lazy to do stalking research to find out where the natural habitat of rich men is located and then go get a hunting permit.
Obviously, that dream is too hard. It has multiple steps. Probably not going to happen.
Liz is on the lookout for someone to set me up with, but so far she's come up with a trauma surgeon who works with her husband - but then the guy suspiciously deploys to one of the war zones for a year. Coincidence?? Then, she says her son's 9th grade teacher allegedly looks like George Clooney. So, after I confirmed this man does not intend to flee the country, she says, "But he might be married.... And he teaches Calculus."
WTF Liz!?!?! I can't even SPELL calculus and we all know I can't do math! I don't need that kind of pressure! What if he asks me out on a date and says we'll meet after work, but then he points out that he works in Vienna, so if he leaves work in his car at 5 pm going 43 miles per hour and has to stop for 3 tolls and will encounter 7 lights along the route, what time will we meet?
SHIT!?!?! There is no way to know that!!! I'm just going to end up showing up at his school and slashing his tires so I don't have to do anymore story problems. Then I'd have to flee the state and turn to a life of crime. Once again, I think we've shown that nothing good comes out of math. Nothing.
Oh, we should probably also confirm if he's married. That might be a problem too. I'm almost positive you can only have one wife in the USA. 96.7% sure.
Damnitt Liz....Can't you see my puffy eyes and handful of kleenex?!?! I'm obviously in a very vulnerable state! Or, my allergies are really acting up. Could go either way. We'll probably never know.
Whatever! I don't need a man! I have Dillon. I'll just get a few kitties (I'll name them scratchy, stabby, bitey and squeaker) and a box of cookies. It's all good.
Broken or whole, a cookie never rejects you.
Undaunted Courage, Plus Yarn
1 day ago