Monday, April 26, 2010
Online dating my a$$
This "candidate" started in on me with hostility. Gets pissed because I can't tie his name to his profile username, which indicates I've contacted millions of men over the internet. What's a single gal to do? I yelp out "i f*cking hate this online dating crap, au revoir", hung up and invented the most delicious chicken salad sandwich recipe ever. Should I name it after the a-hole... don't think so.
Friday, July 24, 2009
No thanks, I'll just take the sandwich !
It's 12:50 a.m.
I'm thinking about all kinds of stuff... everything, except how to get my ass to sleep.
I've just realized that I should make a pilgrimmage to my favorite deli; oddly enough the site of my last lunch with my "work spouse" prior to his wedding day last month.
This has been the craziest, life-altering summer. I have no business blogging at all, because the emotional rollercoaster has made too many damn stops!
I'm still going halfway across town to the deli tomorrow.
Men are like busses; I'd SO rather have the pastrami sandwich.
I'm thinking about all kinds of stuff... everything, except how to get my ass to sleep.
I've just realized that I should make a pilgrimmage to my favorite deli; oddly enough the site of my last lunch with my "work spouse" prior to his wedding day last month.
This has been the craziest, life-altering summer. I have no business blogging at all, because the emotional rollercoaster has made too many damn stops!
I'm still going halfway across town to the deli tomorrow.
Men are like busses; I'd SO rather have the pastrami sandwich.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
WTF are we supposed to do?
Let's shine a personal light on the economic crisis. I want to talk about those of us who studied our asses off in school and volunteered at soup kitchens and donated to greenpeace. Where is my bailout? What's the deal... I mean I can't even enjoy the new Obamic World Order right now because I can't friggin afford cable TV. It's been a goddamn emotional rollercoaster:
Fear
Am I supposed to move home with Mom again? Who's going to feed and educate my kid? Could I possibly qualify as a decent bride with my sub-prime FICO?
Pride
It's clear I can't survive this crap on my own. If I hear one more "I-Told-You-So" it's gonna be on and popping. It's just about enough of a challenge right now to write a profanity-free-vent-blog.
Frugality
Thankfully, right now I can rely on God and my college-days ramen and day old bread survival strategy. The thrift-store and craft nut I used to be has resurfaced, so I'm finding and making the things that I need. Most Americans have lost touch with their Dustbowl Skills, so shouldn't I be thanking my frikin lucky stars??
Fatigue
I'm tired of listening to myself bitch about this. Besides, it's starting to sound like a warped version of the 7 deadly sins. I'm open to any advice regarding coping in tough times, because I've just about depleted my positive-thinking library.
Fear
Am I supposed to move home with Mom again? Who's going to feed and educate my kid? Could I possibly qualify as a decent bride with my sub-prime FICO?
Pride
It's clear I can't survive this crap on my own. If I hear one more "I-Told-You-So" it's gonna be on and popping. It's just about enough of a challenge right now to write a profanity-free-vent-blog.
Frugality
Thankfully, right now I can rely on God and my college-days ramen and day old bread survival strategy. The thrift-store and craft nut I used to be has resurfaced, so I'm finding and making the things that I need. Most Americans have lost touch with their Dustbowl Skills, so shouldn't I be thanking my frikin lucky stars??
Fatigue
I'm tired of listening to myself bitch about this. Besides, it's starting to sound like a warped version of the 7 deadly sins. I'm open to any advice regarding coping in tough times, because I've just about depleted my positive-thinking library.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
One day at a time
While my encounter with the assailant (minute-man) no longer recycles in my brain at bedtime, I can't ignore the altered course of my life. I retain the same identity and goals, but my zip code and priorities have changed. My proximity to my daughter has changed. The minute-man has robbed me of my sense of security and comfort in public places.
My best efforts to move forward seem so futile. I'm swimming, walking, biking, praying, meditating and yoga-ing but depression is still looming; threatening to take me down and thwart any progress. To boot, being unemployed is amazing: while I have the whole day to contemplate and plan, I also have no motivation to accomplish anything by any particular timeline.
I'm getting nowhere here today; but going to give myself a little credit. Maybe there's a good movie on or an unexplored bike trail in the neighborhood.
Good luck to me, and anyone who benefits from my posts.
-Dawn
My best efforts to move forward seem so futile. I'm swimming, walking, biking, praying, meditating and yoga-ing but depression is still looming; threatening to take me down and thwart any progress. To boot, being unemployed is amazing: while I have the whole day to contemplate and plan, I also have no motivation to accomplish anything by any particular timeline.
I'm getting nowhere here today; but going to give myself a little credit. Maybe there's a good movie on or an unexplored bike trail in the neighborhood.
Good luck to me, and anyone who benefits from my posts.
-Dawn
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Open letter to the minute man
Good evening!
I'm sitting here thinking of the min-ute minute man who climbed ontop of me against my will 2 weeks ago. I should just come out and say it, but those of you who have walked in my shoes will soon figure me out.
He was greasy and gross and poorly endowed.
No woman in her right mind would give him any. Guess that's why he had to catch me off guard and take it from me. The whole shebang probably lasted 1 1/2 minutes. He didn't hit me or cut me or anything, but he did disregard my NOs all the week prior. Then my roommates disregarded my demands to get their greasy, gross, recently outta jail homie offa the couch.
Then Greasy ran to the store and bought "forgive me" drinks and and after we all sang and danced to 70s tunes, he waited for everyone to succumb to his alcoholic-investment, plotting his pathetic entry into my bedroom. Which should have been locked but ---shit--- in my own home??
Moving right along?
My first response was to get over it as soon as possible. The worst part was divulging to my parents. I waited 2 days to tell my Dad, who unleashed an N-bomb laced verbal assault upon me regarding my living conditions. Of course I had to put up with it, while he shlepped my precious possessions in his Suburban into a storage unit. I just wanted to live in a nice pretty place; who the f--- predicts derelict roommates 18 months to come??
No Woman's experience is unique?
In an effort to console me, 3 of my Woman-Friends have dug into their shitty memory vaults & retrieved similar tales; demonstrating to me that this experience is unfortunately, all too common. The local sexual assault counseling center actually has a waiting list, which is why i'm vent-blogging right now. Really "men" - you've let all of us down. I still want to believe in you, but I'll just open my own pickle jars for now.
Worse for the wear
I've always trusted and nurtured others. That's my nature. I pray my encounter with this bastard doesn't rob me of my goodwill to humanking. Then - I'd be just like his ignorant, predatory, never-gonna get anywhere ass.
Good luck finding consenting coitus, 4-inch minuteman.
I'm sitting here thinking of the min-ute minute man who climbed ontop of me against my will 2 weeks ago. I should just come out and say it, but those of you who have walked in my shoes will soon figure me out.
He was greasy and gross and poorly endowed.
No woman in her right mind would give him any. Guess that's why he had to catch me off guard and take it from me. The whole shebang probably lasted 1 1/2 minutes. He didn't hit me or cut me or anything, but he did disregard my NOs all the week prior. Then my roommates disregarded my demands to get their greasy, gross, recently outta jail homie offa the couch.
Then Greasy ran to the store and bought "forgive me" drinks and and after we all sang and danced to 70s tunes, he waited for everyone to succumb to his alcoholic-investment, plotting his pathetic entry into my bedroom. Which should have been locked but ---shit--- in my own home??
Moving right along?
My first response was to get over it as soon as possible. The worst part was divulging to my parents. I waited 2 days to tell my Dad, who unleashed an N-bomb laced verbal assault upon me regarding my living conditions. Of course I had to put up with it, while he shlepped my precious possessions in his Suburban into a storage unit. I just wanted to live in a nice pretty place; who the f--- predicts derelict roommates 18 months to come??
No Woman's experience is unique?
In an effort to console me, 3 of my Woman-Friends have dug into their shitty memory vaults & retrieved similar tales; demonstrating to me that this experience is unfortunately, all too common. The local sexual assault counseling center actually has a waiting list, which is why i'm vent-blogging right now. Really "men" - you've let all of us down. I still want to believe in you, but I'll just open my own pickle jars for now.
Worse for the wear
I've always trusted and nurtured others. That's my nature. I pray my encounter with this bastard doesn't rob me of my goodwill to humanking. Then - I'd be just like his ignorant, predatory, never-gonna get anywhere ass.
Good luck finding consenting coitus, 4-inch minuteman.
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