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Everything I’ve Learned Is Wrong

6 Apr

One day I woke up thirty, hazy and terrified. Forget a quarter-life crisis. My real crisis came when I realized that everything I’ve learned thus far in life has been wrong. Sometimes the realizations are small – Playing piano IS cool and I wish I stuck with it. My hair IS different and makes me cool because it defines me. Learning another language IS cool, useful and would help my career. Dates aren’t (just) a gross, cockroach-looking fruit; they’re ACTUALLY delicious.

I’ve sweated everything from the smallest stuff to the largest stuff. I’ve buried my head in the sand when the small stuff became the extra-large stuff, and I nearly drowned in my own head while my heart stood on watching, laughing like a maniac. (The heart is an asshole. Really.)

In order to show you all the feels I’m feeling, I’d like to express myself via James Van Der Beek GIFs. It’s really the only way.

WHEN IT COMES TO JOBS

I work at an in-house Ad agency, where I get paid to write. Paid. To. Write. To some, that’s the dream. Creative services of any kind are tough, because everyone thinks they can do it. Everyone. Even the homeless population can put a sharpie to a piece of cardboard and garner some “brand presence” for themselves, right?

I fell in love with advertising when I was in 6th grade. It was a series of Snickers commercials that set me on that path.

Career-wise, I knew that I wanted to be funny. I wanted to be creative. I wanted to make people laugh and be in the limelight. Advertising was the marriage of all of those things.

People think the Ad world is like MadMen. It’s not. It’s the complete opposite these days, as the elegance of advertising and drinking whiskey in the office is pretty much long gone (well, as far as HR knows). Advertising is digital, competitive, and swarming with talent. So it’s important to set yourself apart.

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But in grad school, the end goal was always to leave and head to a BIG agency. Swim with the big dogs. That’s not right. Sit at the table with the dolphins. Change a lion into a bear?

Metaphors are hard.

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I’ve worked strictly in-house for the past four years, and here’s what I’ve learned when it comes to jobs (in general).

WHAT I THOUGHT:

Go bigger. Find better. You’re not happy. You’re not here to make friends. Work is work. You’re nothing if you’re not the big dog.

WHAT REALITY IS:

You’re enough. You’re where you’re supposed to be. You can still make a global impact on so many through your work, no matter where you are. Doing dope work is doing dope work. As long as you’re doing it, that’s all that matters. Also, having friends you get to work with everyday is everything. Positive work environments with amazing people is everything.

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WHEN IT COMES TO FAMILY:

You know when you’re younger and your parent just wants to give you everything, and hang out with you on a Sunday? And you, cool you, is like, “Staaaaahp, Mom. I’m just tryin’ to do 13-year-old things, like hang out on AOL chat rooms and just live my life!”

You’re annoyed because your siblings want to go everywhere with you, or dress like you, or hang out with you and your friends, or just want to be around you. AND YOU, COOL YOU, is like, “Yo, guys. Chill. I don’t need you coming to the arcade with my cool friends and me and taking my cool meter down. Because I’m soooo much older and wiseeeer and like, totally the most cool.”

Can you feel me mocking our younger selves?

 

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WHAT I THOUGHT:

Your family will always be there and things will never change. They will never abandon you and will always protect you. They’re like rolling with a constant gang, but a friendly gang that’s super into watching WWE on a Friday night or going on family trips. I am too cool to hang with my mom or my siblings. But, who cares, because they’ll just be there always and it’s no biggie.

WHAT REALITY IS:

Family is more complicated than Joey, Dawson and Pacey’s relationship.

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My mom is a Superhero mixed with a Goddess. She’s the most supportive, loving, caring, annoying, judgmental, loving, judgmental, hard-working human being there is (pictured below, for dramatic effect).That has never changed. And I’m betting will never change. Mom-O-Tron (still working on her Superhero Goddess name) never changes, unless it’s just getting more awesome.

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But sadly, things DO change. Just like when Pacey eventually left Joey and Dawson alone so he could go do Pacey things, such is life. People shift, grow, and stop wanting to hear what you have to say.

They develop their own method of thinking, feeling, and beliefs that can butt-heads with how you deal with them and how you feel about them. They don’t listen. They act like they maybe don’t care. Which is stupid, because they probably care more than anyone.

Then, much like when Joey refused to put the ladder out there for Dawson, your heart hurts. Then, you push the ladder over for good until your heart bursts into tiny flames, then into dust.

THEN (yes, there’s another step after heart combustion) you realize that family is a pretty blanket term. Your friends become your family. Your support system. Who you celebrate with, whom you cry with, whom you vent to and whom you share life moments with.

You create your own family. You build forts with them, you watch TV with them, you have Sunday night dinner with them.

And that’s ok.

WHEN IT COMES TO RELATIONSHIPS

You’re going to have a fairytale. Everything is a damned fairytale. Friendships are made of gumdrops that never stop falling from the sky, everyone is fair and kind, and relationships with another human being are more delicious and refreshing than a slice of apple pie and lemonade on a hot day.

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Nothing is hard, because it relationships are easy because friendship and love and junk.

WHAT I THOUGHT:

Perfection is out there. The right people will never let you down. Making lists of demands of what I require in a human being, friendship or relationship-wise is totally normal. Compromise is bullshit. Hurt me once and I’ll leave you stranded in the middle of the lake, standing on a boat, contemplating “things.”

Friendship is about being there for both parties and never fighting. Love is about things. Having things. Striving to have more things. Both relationships brought together under the common believe that I should be allowed to be me, without any complaints from the peanut gallery.

WHAT REALITY IS:

Perfection is a lie. It’s not real. It’s less real than reality shows, the illusion you can control anything, and Santa. We’re all flawed. We’re all just a little bit jaded, broken, or at the very least, cracked in a few places. It’s not about perfection; it’s about finding who is perfect for YOU.

Love is not about things. Love is taking care of your significant other when they’re sick. Love is in the details. LOVE isn’t the dinners, the flowers, the movies, jewelry, and expensive vacations. It’s literally everything else. It’s sacrificing a Friday night to hangout with your family. It’s how they kiss the dog. It’s how they remember to bring home something you’re out of. They listen. They love you. And there’s literally no ”thing” that can compare to that.

Friendship is amazing. It’s a group of people, who just decide to be there for others with no strings attached. True, unbreakable, supportive, loving friendship is something so special. You choose them, they choose you. They come to every comedy show even though they’ve seen the material 800 times. They rehearse with you. They think of you first to have a wine-inspired dance party. They want the absolute best for you, because even when there are days when you don’t think you deserve it, they know you 100% do.

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WHEN IT COMES TO LIFE

SPONSORED BY OUR GOOD FRIENDS, FEAR AND WORRY!

1966872_10105563458521373_6012836605650924483_nI always pictured my life a little differently. There are days I wake up going, “What the hell happened here!?” There are ALSO days where I wake up going, “What I’ve done in thirty years isn’t that bad.” And, finally, those great, amazing, far-and-few-between days where I wake up going, “AM I LUCKY, OR WHAT?”

What I’ve learned from my spirit animals, Tina Fey, Amy Poehler and Mindy Kaling are that fear and worry are thieves of time and productivity as well as happiness and success.

Life is meant to be lived. To be enjoyed. To be squeezed to the last drop, like the last season of Dawson’s Creek. (Let’s be serious, we didn’t need that final season, ya’ll.)

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WHAT I THOUGHT:

I’m not enough. None of this is enough. When will it be enough? When will I be content? Isn’t it bad to be content? When will these questions end and when will the fire in my brain be put out?

Am I happy now and I don’t even know it? Am I where I’m supposed to be? HOW WILL I KNOW?

WHAT THE REALITY IS:

I’m enough. You’re enough. We’re all where we’re supposed to be. We’re as happy as we’ll ever be, right now. So why the hell not enjoy it?

What Would Dawson Do?

giphy-4Keep your eyes, head and heart open. You never know what’s headed to you next.

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My “Oh-No-No” List When it Comes to Dating – Inspired by Tom Haverford of Parks and Rec.

16 Sep

I’m a huge fan of the show, Parks and Recreation, created by one of my personal comedy heroes, Amy Poehler. The show itself is pure genius and the characters? Try to pick a favorite. You can’t. Tom Haverford, played by Aziz Ansari, is one of those amazing characters. He has something called an “oh-no-no” list for the women he dates. Essentially, if a woman commits an “oh-no-no,” it can end their relationship.

So, I figured I’d take the idea of an “oh-no-no” list and create one for the men I date, or am about to date, thinking about dating, or leaving a bar with late at night. *

  1. Men with defcon Level 7 bad breath. I’m talking chronic bad breath. How do you not smell or taste it!?
  2. Men who own one set of sheets. It’s weird. You’re an adult. Do better.
  3. Men who don’t like 90’s music. What is wrong with you? Seriously.
  4. Men who call their parents mommy and daddy…and you’re 30.
  5. Men who save their mothers number with emoji’s next to the name.
  6. Men who have no opinion on what the best The Fast and The Furious movie is.
  7. Men who see nothing romantic about going to Disney.
  8. Men who shave more parts than I do, EXCEPT for the parts they should. Which is Ludacris.
  9. Speaking of Ludacris, Men who have no opinion on the best collabo he ever did. It’s with Missy Elliot for Gossip Folks. Duh.
  10. Men who don’t like comedy. Stand up comedy. Improv comedy. None of it.
  11. Men who think Chelsea Handler is a “comedy goddess.”
  12. Men who think Christopher Titus is funny. Woof.
  13. Men who try to explain fantasy football to me. I don’t get it. It’s like football + sci-fi.
  14. Men who hate Florida State, but your team perpetually loses. And is less awesome. (And are probably fans of the Miami Hurricanes. Just sayin’.)
  15. You still think terms like “power hour” and “shooters” are terms someone over 25 should use.
  16. Men who wear crocs. Unless you’re a pro-gardener. And even then – yuck.
  17. Muppet Discrimination. Including slander of Muppets or Jim Henson and/or lack of knowledge.
  18. White guys with dreads/cornrows. Who are you? SNOW?
  19. Men with ugly laughs. I can’t.
  20. Men who think Tupac ISN’T alive and coming back. #whatwouldtupacdo
  21. Men who wash plastic cups.
  22. Men who wear shower caps.
  23. Men who wear basketball sandals BUT don’t play basketball.
  24. ANY man who voted for Clay Aiken.
  25. Strike that – any man who watches American Idol, or supports Seacrest.
  26. Men that wear TAP OUT gear and aren’t professional MMA fighter’s.
  27. Men who CALL THEMSELVES MMA fighters and are a white belt.
  28. THEY left THEIR backpacks over THERE, because THEY’RE silly. Get it?
  29. Any man named Trevor. Because fuck Trevor, bro.
  30. Men who wear Hawaiian shirts, even ironically.
  31. Men who use the words swag, yolo, cutie, honey, sweetie, or any variation of “izzle.” (For example, forshizzle.)
  32. Men who don’t watch Game of Thrones.
  33. Men that are afraid of roaches, except the ones they hold in their hand each night.
  34. Men that can’t put basic furniture together. Maybe you’re the basic bitch?
  35. Men with feet that look like they belong in The Shire. They’re hairy. And gross.
  36. Men who do drugs recreationally. Seriously, commit…or don’t. No one wants a “recreational” relationship.
  37. Men who can’t see over their stomachs. But comment on women’s bodies.
  38. Men who have 70’s inspired hair…above AND below deck. I’ll let you think about that one.
  39. Men who go to yoga. Namaste away from me, dudeski.
  40. Men who fear funny women, because they are insecure…and stupid poop-heads.

*Let’s be serious, those men may have an easier time getting me to be lenient on the “oh-no-no” list.

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Why The Movie Tommy Boy Is A Metaphor For My Dating Life

20 May

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While I do take a lot (and I do mean a lot) of my wisdom, advice, and general life knowledge from movies, my dating life is quickly turning into that scene from Tommy Boy when Chris Farley explains why he sucks at being a salesman…which makes me “want to drive off a cliff!” I work in advertising, so I’m used to selling things, but when it comes to selling the “Allyson experience,” let me tell you why I suck as a salesman…woman…sales woman.

1. Captain Weird Beard – Overall, the issue is that I don’t know how to date anymore. It’s been so long since I’ve been on a normal date (and in a normal relationship) that when I’m alone with a guy, I act like “JoJo the Indian circus boy!” Overall, I’m excited, but I’m not normal Allyson. I morph into a weirdly quiet, monotonous, robotic version of Allyson that can only say, “that’s cool,” or “how awesome.” No matter how I try to force normal Allyson out, my quiet excitement confuses my date who thought they were meeting with someone who wasn’t required to wear a helmet while eating soup. Combine that with the weird half-smile I start doing out of nowhere and my poor date is left wondering whether that face I’m making is because I’m into him…or I just have gas.

2. Be More Like This, Less Like That – Everyone that’s been in a relationship for a week or less has an opinion on what you should do and what you’re doing wrong.  Each one’s method is THE method that got them their one true love (I just threw up in my mouth).

Opinion 1:  “Don’t sleep with them right away.”

Opinion 2:  “Sleep with them right away, who cares.”

Opinion 3: “Make sure you act interested in what he has to say.”

Opinion 4: “Ignore him. Men love that. Make him think you absolutely hate him and would rather hang out in a cave full of rabid bats before you’d go home with him….ever.”

3. Rocky Road v. Vanilla, AKA The Weirder the Better–  Part of the problem is that my give a damn is totally busted. I’ve been doing this dating thing too long with too little of a ROI ( return on investment). Whatever I do, no matter how I change it up it doesn’t make a difference. If I act coy? No good. Act myself? No good. If I try to find a compromising middle ground…it’s just…not good.

I feel like if we’re going to work out, I should be able to completely and totally act like myself. I completely hope/expect/demand you do the same. Oh, you’re weird? Cool. BE WEIRD. I prefer rocky road to vanilla any day of the week. If it’s too much for you to handle, cool. It’s been real…awkward…probably, and I’ll see ya never.

Be uniquely, un-apologetically you. I freakin’ love that.

4. And You Know What Else? I Never Learned How to Read…Signs! – When I was younger, I could figure out if you liked me in 30 seconds. The men, well…boys…were a lot more straightforward, and we cut out a lot of the awkward back and forth and got straight to the dating and happiness and what not. NOW? Sweet lord, I just don’t know. When I think someone is clearly into me, I’m wrong. When I think they can’t wait to run away, screaming…they’re into me. What…is happening…here.

Oh, I’m sorry that I misunderstood that every time you passed me in the hallway and averted your eyes you were waiting for ME to take charge. Sometimes I miss big cues though. Sometimes it’s so obvious it feels like it CAN’T be that obvious. Then of course, there is the awkward middle ground. Clearly, if you’re asking me inside, but then running away from me when I nervously chuckle…I don’t know. I just don’t know. Is that you are into it, but because I wasn’t immediately into it you retract your previous interest? Or do you like me because I wasn’t nice to you and I didn’t show any interest in you? AND HOW DOES THAT MAKE SENSE? WHEN WILL THINGS MEAN WHAT THEY MEAN AGAIN? I FEEL LIKE I’M TAKING CRAZY PILLS!

5. Game of Thrones Meets the Bachelorette – I’m not a good game player. At all. I’m pretty straightforward about what I want,until recently when I figured out that the bigger problem is that I legit have no idea what I want anymore.  Is it so hard to ask for a good human being, who loves dogs and watching Saturday morning cartoons? Who also has his life together and make me laugh so hard I pee a little?

Ok, maybe that’s a lot, but things change when you get older. Being so picky changes.

Like when I was 18, if someone I was dating had some sort of addiction I’d be like, that is…so cool. You have a debilitating meth addiction? SO COOL when I had nothing to steal. But now I’m older and my stuff is way nicer so it’s like…HA…no…you can’t…come over.

At this point though I’m like …you have an STD? Well…is it curable?  “OH, you’re in a terrorist training program trying to weaponize plantains? Cool…I love a man who has hobbies.”

It’s affected how I fantasize and what I fantasize about. My fantasies as I get older have gotten SUPER DULL.  Most women are busy fantasizing about 50 shades of gray; I fantasize about a phone call the next day.

Finding someone has become so difficult I’m like, oh you’re an amputee? That’s fine. I’m not really a leg woman anyway.

Overall, I don’t think I have what it takes to conquer Kings Landing or sit on the throne of the seven kingdoms. I don’t. I just want one kingdom to rein. I swear. That’s it.

6.  (And Finally) I’m A Shitty Saleswoman – I just say what I want to say. It’s almost like a deranged test of, “Can you handle this?” If I give you just the tip and you’re overwhelmed, I’d hate to see what happens when I’m fully myself. I’m a handful. I get it. I appreciate it. Hopefully one day, someone else will too.

I try to sell myself according to my target market, exactly as I’d do in real life. You like sports? I love college football and I used to be an athlete. Love cultured events? Artistry? I can rattle off some artists and get into it. I love cars and things that go fast…I think that’s a HUGE USP (unique selling point). Eat healthy and cook a lot? Me too. Want to pig out? ME TOO. ALL THE TIME. Like beer? Me too! Hate beer and don’t drink at all because it makes you take your clothes off? ME TOO, ME TOO, ME TOO….

Reading signals has become harder than advanced chemistry, a group of elderly who accidentally pop the wrong white pill, trying to swim through a bowl of Jello (although that does sound awesome) and trying to figure out why they keep trying to breathe life into Greys Anatomy. Seriously. I don’t get it.

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In the meantime, I’m going back to basics. Do you like me? Check yes, no, or maybe but I don’t know yet myself because I am….

A. Possibly going to be celibate forever.

B. Bad at making decisions.

C. Terrified of you.

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Relationships: You’re Doing it Wrong

4 Feb
WORD.

WORD.

Sadly, when I think of my friends right now, I want to shake most of them and throat punch the rest of them.  If you’re anything like me, your friends (men and women) are stuck on stupid (whether it’s figurative, or that dude with the leather jacket and bad life decisions we tried to warn them about).  While I can’t really say what’s happened over the years, I can say that getting older and dealing with your friends who are in relationships (or who desperately want someone in their life) has become tiring, frustrating and downright pathetic.

We’re young and settling, making excuses instead of empowering each other to make better decisions. Part of it is that it’s a rough world out there for the single folk. The older you get the more you start to feel like you’re at a carnival with only bearded women. Except some of those women are dudes. It’s a metaphor.

People are so afraid to be alone it’s scary. Everyone is jumping into relationships, pushing for engagements and marriage, but are they even sure of who they are and what they want? Sure, you may never know, but isn’t it more important to know yourself before you entertain knowing/loving someone else? I’m no rocket scientist, but…seems pretty simple and mind-blowing to me.

If it’s not bad enough, each friend has their own sort of “relationship slogan” as I like to call them:

–          “OMG that’s totally how it was for me. TOTALLY.”

–          “It just takes one.  I mean, I thought it was going to be this other guy, but he wasn’t the one.”

–          “I had to go through a LOT of jerks.”

–          “And here I thought you couldn’t turn a hoe into a housewife. Welp, I was WRONG.”

Now, for no reason whatsoever, here are the things I’m sick of:

Female friends:

1. Just because you were in a bad relationship and now you’re in a good one does NOT make you a relationship expert.

2. Stop making excuses. Just stop. “Well, I promised I’d do this thing because I mean, he did this thing that doesn’t matter for me, but now I just feel like I owe him, you know what I mean?” Or “I just feel like I have to. He’s like, a really good guy at heart I think. The two manslaughter charges against the family of armadillos are TOTALLY getting dropped in 2014.”

3. Stop crying over rotten men. Just like expired milk, toss it in the garbage and don’t look back. Would you drink expired milk? (No: then why would you stay in something that has expired three weeks ago?) (Yes: well, you’re just one sick puppy, aren’t ya?)

4. Stop pretending that your relationship is perfect. It’s not. Know why? (spoiler alert) NOTHING is perfect. If you’re trying to get me to believe that your honey does nothing but poop rainbows and sunshine, try again.  (I’ve lived with two men, I know better)

5. Stop MAKING UP PROBLEMS to talk about your men. “Oh my GOD, I was so pissed at Tom last night. You’ll never guess what he did!” No. Wrong. I probably will. And guess what? It’s not that bad. If he forgot to meet you out, didn’t want to come over, etc…shut it. Just shut it…and leave him alone. He’s a human being.

6. Don’t forget your friends. Even though you choose to neglect them for whatever your reasoning may be (probs because we’re too single and fabulous to be around. Or, more likely because we come in a team of 1 and you’re now a team of 2), they’re still there. AND, we’ll either be there at the wedding, or there to help move you out.

7. Don’t invite us out to couples night and pretend you’re a different kind of couple. “No, no! Come out! Yes, it’s couples game night and you’d be the only one there alone, BUT…I mean…we’re NOT that kind of couple.” Ah yes, that feels fun. Your intentions are good, but c’mon….c’mon…that leaves your single friends ready to hop in the bathtub and listen to Sade’ then play a little skin violin. At least do us a solid and bring that delightful single person you keep trying to hook us up with.

8. In other news, stop trying to hook us up with your boyfriend’s shitty friends. We don’t want them. He’s awful. They’re awful. Stop it.

9. Stop complaining about not going out anymore. “Oh man, I envy you…you get to cram your feet in 8’ heels, put on a short glitter skirt and parade around. What a lucky gal.” No one past 23 actually ENJOYS doing that.

10. STOP ANSWERING YOUR PHONE AT GIRLS NIGHT EVERY TIME YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER CALLS, DESPITE KNOWING YOU’RE AT GIRLS NIGHT. Holy cow, nothing makes me crazier. Then you answer the phone, “Hey babe. No, I’m just sitting here with Ally. Well, did you poop today? You did? That’s a big boy. What color was it? Ok babe, I have to go but I love you. Congrats on your giant turd.”

Male Friends:

1. Dude, I get it. Boobs are totally awesome. I have a set. At some point, my level of cool is compromised and I just can’t hear about or help you judge a “juicy pair of jugs.” RESPECK.

2. Stop telling me about your “standards.” Psssh. What you should say is: this is what I’d like…if Jack Daniels wasn’t involved.

3. Another thing about your “standards” is be REALISTIC. If you’re a pseudo lagoon creature, stop trying to look for a girl who is a Victoria’s Secret model, with the brain of Einstein who wants to do nothing but blow you, bake brownies and have babies. Actually, if you meet a woman who wants the 3 B’s (as I just mentioned) you marry her…marry her, I say!

4.  Stop making excuses for crazy women. Some bitches be cray…recognize a red flag or 15 when they unfurl and move on.

5. No, I will not set you up with any more of my friends after the last incident. You know what I’m talking about; I don’t think I have to say it.

I think it’s the same principle that people talk about at award shows…ya know, don’t forget the little people. Bitter? No. Jaded? Maybe a little. Happy for those who genuinely find something good? You betcha. As for the rest of your heffers who are willing to settle for anyone who’s interested in you? Keep it to yourself, the adults are talking.

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Another Lesson in Common Sense: Respect!

17 May

 

“Re-spek it…befoe you re-gret-tit!”

 

About a month ago, I was in line at Starbucks and I overhear this lady turn to her friend and say… “And I told him…you better respek it…befoe you re-gret-tit.” Her enunciation, the emphasis of each phrase…I was both seriously amused and on her side from that moment on.

And why not? Clearly, she was right.

Whomever it was, should respect the proverbial “it” or they are bound to regret it. My friend and I were discussing our most recent situations, and what seems to happen to us as women when we enter into a new experience. Last night on the phone, I said, “You know…it’s not that we’re dumb girls. I actually like to pride myself on being relatively smart about most situations. Yet, as I relay the series of events to you…it dawns on me, that I am the champion of the ‘Bad Decision Olympics.’ Gold medal champion, to be specific…and you my friend are the runner-up.”

Our stories:

(Hers first, and let’s call her Jen)

Jen was a college roommate of mine, completely by accident. Someone whom I was introduced to and we just gelled. After college, I moved home, she moved to ATL and now to D.C. Our exteriors appear similarly rough, we come off impervious to pain that relationships with others may cause even though if you break through our façade of an exterior, you’d see our interior is really marshmallow goo. The past few relationships for Jen have been men who are between their 40’s and 50’s. She’s 27. Clearly, not ok and we’ve had a conversation about that.

For someone her age, the maximum without being creepy is around 35-37. No more than 10 years apart, or it’s seriously too large of a generational gap and just plain gross…to be honest. This new guy, he’s our age…which was a good start, until, she starts divulging the rest of the story…

1. He works with her.

2. He’s her superior (one of them).

3. He has a girlfriend.

4. His girlfriend WORKS at the restaurant.

5. He’s a known, arrogant douche.

6. Please see numbers 1-5 and repeat until the obvious question of, “WHAT is she doing?” washes over you.

As soon as she told me that, I became Homer Simpson, slapping my forehead with a resounding… “D’OH!”

One step forward, six steps back.

So the story continues, and I won’t lie…at points, this sounds kind of sexy. He’s a wine sommelier; they work at an important upscale Washington, D.C. restaurant. Each shift they work together, they give each other flirty stares, do things to entice the other…and then when everyone goes home for the day, they act on those passions in the back room while people could be around. Sounds like a fiction based romance novel a little, no?

I told her…just as Eleanor Roosevelt once said (Wu-Tang Clan maybe?) you have to “protect ya neck!”

Something happens to women when they start a new relationship, and maybe to be fair to men…the sensitive ones may feel this too. It’s like we put these huge blinders on and get all gaga, seeing nothing but rainbows and sunshine pouring out of these people’s rear ends! We regret to see that this is doomed from the get-go.

We can reform, we can remold…we can rebuild, we have the technology!

People…let me give you a piece of advice (I never follow, clearly or I wouldn’t be telling you my story). No one changes. They may modify themselves, tweak something here and there…but overall, people do not change. Find someone who likes/love you as you are and likewise, because everyone deserves to feel as loved as possible as often as possible! SO…one night, they’re having relations in the office and someone finds them. Shocking. Jen also recently broke her finger, and is unable to work, which means she has been home. Where has Mr. Romantic been? M.I.A. Why? Because…he has gotten what he wanted, they’ve fleshed out their physical attraction while he’s been able to keep his girlfriend, his life, and his job…barely.

I love talking to Jen about our situations, because we’re both so incredibly hypocritical. We KNOW that these situations aren’t going anywhere, know they are doomed and yet we forge on. Why is that?

My situation is less severe, and could seriously take its own post to describe what’s been going on. Basically, I met someone in a strange way, that I was not anticipating liking.

1. He’s older, near the borderline of too old, but nothing crazy.

2. He lives far from here, well…40 miles. Not that far.

3. I think he may live some sort of strange double life.

4. People who are mutual friends say terrible things about him.

5. He never follows through Ever.

Although anyone who knows me would think, “you wouldn’t stand for that!” Something about the aggravation of proving that “you should be loving me, following through and being awesome,” keeps me standing by. The whole point of this (it’s there, somewhere), is that respect isn’t something you should have to beg for. I think what happens, is that people forget that the people THEY are dealing with are also…people. Treat me kind, speak to me properly, and think about how you would feel if I treated you like a pig for having a girlfriend and trying to hit it with me. Or, how I SHOULD have treated you like a creepy old man who found me in a strange way, who hasn’t taken me on one respectable date, and who was so worried about my age and me being immature, yet it appears the other way around.

RESPECT the people in your life. RESPECT who they are and where they come from, or respect them enough to at least tell them the truth. Show a little honesty, be upfront and let them decide if they can handle it and be a part of it. Life can be a very lonely journey alone, and as the very wise woman said…if you don’t respect “it,” you may live to regret it.

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FACT: Babies Are Ruining My Life

16 May

There Goes Your Hopes and Dreams!

Sweet Moses, this topic is frightening! For those who have yet to read my interesting perspective on all that life has to offer, I apologize in advance. And for the five of you loyal readers ( Mom, big ups to you!) who hang on my every sentence for entertainment…and to feel better about you, once again…you’re welcome. I’m sort of like watching Intervention. At the end of it, you’re a bit confused, worried, turned on…but ultimately grateful that you lead a completely different life, and that’s why I’m here, to bring horror to the masses.

Recently, I’ve become more and more entwined with the community, which is great, since my goal is to ultimately do something positive for children, women in distress and shelter animals. Children and I tend to get along famously, as I’d rather spend my days sipping Juicy Juice, watching SpongeBob SquarePants and running around the house pants-less.

Children are awesome. Their honesty, their integrity, and their ability to be happy with life’s simplest pleasures. I’ve had a glass of wine, so if this post goes sappy, blame the silly juice.

My thoughts on children, as of September 2011:

So here’s the thing.

Most of you who know me, know how I feel about giving birth as I did a wholllle portion of my stand-up comedy act on it and I’m not particularly shy about saying the following: I’d love kids, I just don’t want to birth them.

Previously, I’ve said the following things have to happen prior to me agreeing to have kids:

1. Caging children must become legal, so like a dog, if I get frustrated with little Yikes Jr. I can cage it until it learns not to pee in the house.

2. Men must be able to have uterine transplants. Seriously, they should be able to have children already…it’s 2011.

3. They would have to be able to put me to sleep, take the baby out, perform liposuction and wake me up when everything is over, with my tang tang intact.

4. The only alternative to three, would be having your egg removed, mixed with your partners, it’s put into a pod that you check on and feed…kind of like sea monkeys…and eventually, the baby grows and wakes up at nine months cuter than hell and ready for you. Kind of like…iRobot meets Identity Report…meets the Pillsbury Dough Boy (he rises in time…in time…ON HIS OWN).

It’s a wonder I’m not married with kids yet, no?

Well…here’s the thing. Most of that nonsense above, while completely ignorant, stems from me assuming the right person will make me feel differently. My mother, who is probably gagging as she reads this, insists that as we get older…there is an instinct that rises.

So what’s been happening? There are children…everywhere. Seriously, criminally adorable children. Slowly but surely, I don’t feel like that anymore. I find myself looking at these families, envious that someone has made them feel like blowing their pelvis and tang tang region out was totally worth it.

Crap.

Furthermore, people from high school…from college…from my LIFE are having children at such a rapid rate it’s bananas. Some of them, I don’t even know they’re pregnant, then today I see TWO of them have, “Little Isaac turns one month today!” whaaaaa….t?

AT LEAST have the courtesy to throw us a baby bump pic here and then so we’re not shocked! ( And this is what technology has done to us!)

I’m 26. I’m in no way, shape, or form behind on the times. I’ve never been married, because I want to do it right…one time, and forever. Optimistic? Sure, sure, sure. Not in a rush (absolutely no man believes this)!

So for now I’ll continue sipping my Juicy Juice and roaming the house pants-less, while watching SpongeBob SquarePants and come to grips with the epidemic that will most likely grow as I continue to!

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