5 Reasons Why I’m Annoyed with Moms

1. Even though you say “I don’t care anymore” when the topic of breastfeeding in public comes up, guess what? I still do.

2. My sister texted me to complain about how our parents are too busy to come down and watch her child for a weekend so she can “get a break.” Let me rephrase that so you better understand, how dare our parents lead their lives so selfishly and not want to spend hundreds of dollars to fly to her house and spend their weekend babysitting her kid. What’s wrong with them? Lets rephrase again, how about what’s wrong with YOU.

3. Moms go everywhere and expect things. I need more napkins, more water, do you have a bag for my stuff? Can’t you see I’m holding a child?

Actually I can see that you are indeed holding a child, my question for you: how long have you known that you had that child? A while now? Couple years maybe? So you usually can’t carry things if you’re holding him/her, is that correct? Maybe you should consider a bag of some kind? Call me I don’t know, crazy or something, what do I know being just a single gal.

4. Your sleep deprivation is an excuse for everything. I don’t feel sorry for you.

I am consistently getting weird hours of sleep, having fucked up dreams, working two jobs and very much looking forward to the end of the night where there is a glass of wine and a bed, but that excuse isn’t good enough unless I’m juggling an infant.

5. This child birthday party thing is madness and it is bullshit. Some older folks I’ve been talking to are like WHAT? YOU were invited to a child’s birthday? How come? I never thought I would get affirmed from someone in their 60’s about non-mother etiquette, but they appear to be the ones with their heads on straight.

Back in their day, the people that attended a kids birthday party were other children and then parents who have the said children whom are attending, and then grandparents, and other family members. Unfortunately recent trends are that friends in general are being invited to children’s parties, regardless of the zero children they have, regardless of their zero interest in attending, and regardless of the fact it’s being held at ten am on a Saturday morning when clearly single folks will be hungover and only interested in nursing coffee and Tylenol on the couch.

The kids birthday party thing is probably what’s pissing me off the most right now. I have been invited to two kids birthdays inside this past month and a half. One I did attend just because the mom though it was SO FUCKING CRUCIAL that I went. Eh, there was a cute boy there, I survived. The second one was a stretch. I think I’ve met that kid a handful of times and talked once, and WHHHHHHHHHHY.

When the moms are upset that I wouldn’t want to come is when I just want to lose all my shit. This is the moment that I screw up and call all kids stupid and tell them that their kids head is shaped funny and where the mom and I ultimately become enemies, because I literally can’t comprehend why I should be forced to go to something that doesn’t apply to me and I REALLY can’t comprehend her attempts to guilt me into it.

I tried to talk to a kid at Pete’s coffee today, I tried to compliment her dress, I really tried. She ended up showing me that it wasn’t a dress but instead a shirt and skirt, as she flashed me there at the condiment car. It was important that I see the separation between the two garments, both a hot pink I might add. I tried to comment further and just got lost calling the outfit a dress again.

There are some days kids are just the worse, then when moms get involved who think that the world spins around them and their motherhood, and this is when I want to start ignoring kids and their mothers all together.

Oh I’m sorry were you talking about your 4 year old’s bounce house? Count me out, bye bye now.

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rejection & the internet: thanks craigslist.

I have no shame and no pride and will tell you forthright that I’ve been looking on Craigslist for a room to rent.

I honestly find this better then the alternative which is scanning facebook and sending messages to people who might still be single.

Also I had this fear simmering inside me, that my mother was going to start asking around at church and find some complete weirdo single girl who also is looking for a roommate, and who has probably never drank alcohol and may even think that twerking is something that only strippers do.

I’d rather take my chances with an alcoholic stripper thank you very much.

My actual adventure with Craigslist starts with Helen.

Helen and I hit it off great, her being just a few years older, with a lovely and affordable room to rent plus she worked the bar scene, and thought me hilarious.

I could not wait to move in with her. Great room, plenty of booze and not to mention, uh friendship? Could use some of that. I think I’m overwhelming my coworkers with, well myself.

Helen was so great in fact that when her and I planned to move in, I did not even respond to that Craigslist ad that a guy named Kevin put up about his room for rent, fully displaying a picture of him in his trendy plaid shirt, engaging grin, and his friendly chocolate lab. I put Kevin’s adorable face and adorable pet out of my mind and clicked out of his ad, because I was so devoted to my roommate-to-be, Helen.

I even planned on spending Valentines Day with her! Let me be clear before this goes too far, I had planned to move into our apartment Valentines Day night and then we were going to hang out when she got off of work.

Sadly, Feb 13th at 10:40pm Helen texted me that she had received a move out notice, due to her roommate that was moving out, causing quite a ruckus.

It appeared as if Helen and I were doomed and I began that night looking for rooms. A room I had originally wanted was posted again due to their prospect falling through, I was all a gaze at the possibility of living with several very fun and appealing people, but they did not respond.

On Valentines Day my coworkers and people passing me on the streets and people driving in their cars, were pealed to their phones, and I was no different. Others awaited texts from their lovers, I awaited text messages from strangers. Most looked forward to their evening ending in some much needed sex and cuddling, I awaited the opportunity to peak into my hopeful bedroom and talk about the cable bill, maybe even discuss showering schedules if lucky.

But I got no hits on Valentines day, no texts and no emails about being someones new roommate. I had the night off from work due to my plans to move in with Helen. I ended up buying a six pack of beer and a pizza, and consumed both while sitting in my car, parked in a dark lot, near a yogurt shop.

It’s not that my friends and family hate me and threw me out of their homes and wouldn’t let me share their romantic evenings, I just didn’t feel like invading in on anyone’s privacy and intimate moments when honestly I can drink beer and eat pizza anywhere.

I did end up getting tipsy, and in case anyone saw this coming, yes I did text Helen.

Asking her if she still wanted to find a place, a new place, together? She responded but didn’t. Really she just rambled on for a paragraph saying she didn’t know where she was going to go from here.

As I got more tipsy, I spoke to my beer while I held it in my hand and asked “Did I just get dumped by someone on Craigslist?”

I mean sure it wasn’t a romantic relationship, but I had hoped to live with her and be friends with her and tell funny stories over a glass of wine or come home to tell her about my crushes or my boss being a jerk, maybe we’d even despise the children in our apartment complex together and talk about the ones we hated the most.

But all is not lost my dear readers, for I have met another possibility through Craigslist-the place where all hope of finding friends is lost and you extend your reach to strangers-and his name is Hunter. Hunter lives with three other guys, all one year younger then me.

Helen who? Hello Hunter & Friends!

I could tell Hunter was hilarious just from the posts he put up. So today when he said “tell me about yourself” I didn’t want to disappoint.

me: “Well I love Chipotle. I love Chipotle so much that I’m standing in line for it currently and I’d stand in line for it forever. The same goes with Drake. I would also stand in a line forever, for Drake.”

me: “I don’t watch much on cable because um hello, Hulu! I secretly want to take a hip hop class.”

me: “I love beer. Beer and wine. I’m not messy, mostly.”

Hunter said “lol” a total of three times. This is a good sign right?

It’s funny how my love life and my trying to find a roommate life look more and more similar….

incorrect expectations

Real talk: I don’t know how to keep this blog up with my lack of life. Luckily I had a bridal shower and two parties to attend all in one day, so there actually is something to share! Miracle.

We will start with the parties. Both of them were goodbye parties for either friends or coworkers and at both of them I came to realize that hey I don’t know these people.

And when you don’t know people in a group very well, not only will your beer not save you from forced small talk but it also won’t save you from the hardcore clinging to the two people that you do know.

At party Numero Uno, I assumed it would be wildly fun, but my two people became occupied and things got awkward quick.

Tried asking a coworkers boyfriend about the bar that he runs and when that went south I appealed to the vanity of a woman and complimented the girls hair next to me, which did go somewhere, but it left me without words to use because she had taken all of them and left me with nodding. Hey bro, lets go back to those one word answers about your bar that I’ll never take a step inside of.

Party Numero Duce..(?)… (spanish class was a long time ago), this party had the potential to have a lot of drunken people and a lot of laughs and it did amuse me on both of those counts for quite awhile.

One of my two people at this one was hammered. I mean like singing out loud in the middle of a bar, occasionally lying down on the table, and every so often telling someone FUCK YOU, with no rationale. Brilliant drunk.

Unfortunately, early in the night I had gotten very hung up on my crush being there and his not making eye contact with me. He was glued to his phone or the tv most of the night, and somewhere in that behavior I decided he loathed me.

At one point I was smushed between two different couples and almost got up to stand next to him, despite the general dislike I assumed he had for me, just to have someone to stand there with, and we could both be glued to our phones, at least together? Instead I decided to stay planted in between the couples, trying to be as small as a Chinese gymnast, and text whoever was willing.

It was when it got so bad that people in the group sitting around me had pointedly started a conversation that clearly did not need my input, is when I begged a friend to call me so I could have a reason to go outside and take this ever so important call, and this is when I realized I had lost our drunk friend.

I found him outside minutes later, standing on a curb, and looking out into the parking lot. I wanted nothing more then to plop down on that same curb and stare at whatever he was staring at, and not have to make one any more unsuccessful efforts to converse with others.

The funniest thing about yesterday was that I had thought that those two parties would be the best part of the day and that the bridal shower that afternoon would be that part of the day I’d be praying for to be over as quickly as possible.

The bridal shower, being at a church, and also being a bridal shower, I didn’t have my hopes set high, but was in fact a wonderful three hours.

Sitting at a table with my mother, aunt, mother of that aunt, and a cousins girlfriend, our dry wit and overall immaturity gave each of us away to inappropriate fits of laughter from beginning to end. Also the maid of honor who is my cousin, was running the show and quite hilariously I may add. She obviously had the upcoming Bachlorette party on her brain because she never ceased to make jokes about how she’d be hammered later and to quiet us down would say “ladies, ladies, off the tables. were in a church.”

The games she planned were even fun and our table even got bizarrely competitive and began cheating early on. When we weren’t cracking jokes, the maid of honor was acting as our own stand up comedian and had the whole room going.

I shake my head even now at how odd or maybe even stupid it was for me to be so sure that I would have gobs of fun at these random parties with random people, but yet not be as entertained with the amazing women of my own family!!

The women of my family are intelligent and fun loving and deeply sarcastic, from aunts to cousins to grandmothers, and I don’t know how I ever came to doubt having a good time at this shower.

I guess at some point in your life you need to take a step back from the bars (hooold on what is she talking about) and the strangers (omg is she saying this) and look at who has been around your whole life, and who is ready to jump up and be your friend when you’re own are scarce.

Shit just got deep. Hope everyone enjoyed the Grammys!

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beer? chocolate milk?

No no I couldn’t. I don’t! I never do.

But…..

When you’ve reached a certain age and there aren’t as many men who share that age you are then almost forced to go down, in age.

I don’t know what other choice there is.

Let me just be clear, I hate younger guys.

Hmmmm that was harsh. Uh I don’t like to date them? Ever? If I can help it. But pretty much never. Dating some young hipster who is all sunshine and rainbows seems like my own personal hell. I have younger brothers and I think that says it all. I feel like when they are thirty years old, ill still be worried about all their seemingly terrible life decisions.

When I picture myself dating, talking to, texting, making out with, or looking with any interest what so ever at a man, I picture him older. Instead of me taking care of him I picture him taking care of me.

You can imagine my current confusion as suddenly I have found myself looking forward to going to work, so I can flirt with my young coworker who plays in a band.

He recently turned 21 and also recently turned up the physical contact we need to have as we go about our tasks. Obviously you have to gently touch my back as you walk behind me, why state that you’re behind me, like with words and stuff. I have to admit to you, I don’t hate it.

He is pretty damn beautiful and maybe I remind him of his older sister, but in a hot way?

I can feel everyone judging me even as I type this, and I know ok? A girl’s gotta have some stimulation though. What am I supposed to think about all day, my hopes and dreams?

There is (shamefully) another youngin that I can’t get out of my head. He is in that group of friends that er uhhh… OK he is one of my brothers friends.

I KNOW. Jesus.

He is adorable,hot, and hopefully 23. Pleeeeaaasseee be 23.

I think him and I have never had a full conversation, or been sober at the same time, and probably don’t know eachothers last names or occupations. Eh, still in.

Right now I’m appreciating this extremely shy stage that I’m in with him. You know the one where he says hi (or slurs hi) when you walk into the room and you say nothing back and pretend like he never spoke? Yeah I hear that tactic has a 2% success rate and yet I use it every weekend.

Haha see! you thought I was only awkward with older guys. Guess again!

Seriously though I feel the shame, I really do. Am I starved for attention so severely that I’m willing to take it in whatever age form, regardless of jail time?

I prefer to brainwash myself into looking at it like I’m trying new things. In comparison to old things…Get it?

being tacky and poor at dinner parties

Abruptly invited to one of our married couple friends new-house-dinner.
…or is it dinner for their new house?
well.. you have dinner to celebrate the new house that you have. There, nailed it.

I don’t know all the terms.

Basically I was told about the dinner about an hour before it started and as I’m hurriedly getting ready I realize…. what do I even wear to this?

I’ve been so out of sync lately with the married/engaged friends that I’m forgetting proper etiquette and what I normally do, say, wear, at such events.

As I’m putting on makeup in front of the mirror I’m realizing that it has been over three months since I got my eyebrows waxed. Not only that but I haven’t gotten my hair colored since April.

Now I know you may be confused, you might be thinking “doesn’t she blog about going out all the time? How could she not have known that she’s not put together?” Well honestly sometimes when I get ready to go out I’m already pregaming by that point, also I figure sometimes like oh it will be dark in that bar or club, and my brows don’t look that bad do they? Or I just put on so much makeup and style my hair decently and just figure that must make up for it all.

So anyways I’m inspecting my bangs which are long and noticing my split ends which are obvious, and I can’t find nice earrings. Like holy fuck didn’t I used to look nice and wear nice things? Why can’t I find the remnants of that, a.k.a. nice earrings?

It takes centuries ( I never ever ever exaggerate, ever) to find a nice little dangly pair and then I started in on the outfit.

I was strapping on a pair of low heels and a semi short skirt in front of my mirror, when I looked up and was like damn, how is this hooker going to be allowed into this dinner party?

Taking my hoochie mama outfit off and replacing with jeans and a nice top, and then I throw on the only sandals I have, the ones I’ve worn every single day this whole summer. Now I’ve just went too casual and possibly even a tad bohemian. Switch out the top for a tank top and a sweater and I swear I’m breaking a sweat knowing that my ride will be there any second.

My unemployment and lack of self care has led me to panic upon being invited to social engagements that are for civilized and responsible (and also employed) 20-something year olds.

Did I mention that I didn’t even bring anything to their house for dinner? Not a sliver of cheese to grate on the huge salad or bread to go along with the large platter of chicken or even cheap wine to get myself drunk off of.

I brought nothing to what is probably considered actually a housewarming party. I suppose that’s me not treating the hosts very warmly (see what I did there?) in fact I probably added a chill to the house (did it again, oh man killin this) upon my entrance.

In the car I’m wondering what I’m even going to do, pretend that I haven’t been a broke hot mess for months now? Explain that I’ve been buying beer every weekend but couldn’t bother to purchase myself a haircut?

Already I was dreading the conversations that you’re bound to have during the chit chat rounds of a dinner party. Me: “Oh so your marketing job is going well? That’s great! Yeah I almost got hired at this pizza place the other day…”

I mean really.

I made a plan that I would just tell them a good long list of all the places I’ve applied to, so as to allow them to pick one out of the bunch they would like to focus on, and then we can squeal about how great it would be if I worked there. For example: “That linen store off of Clayton Street? What great deals they have! We got our love seat cushions there. What kind of discount would they give you? It’s nice because it’s so close”…, etc.

P.S. I actually applied to David’s Bridal the other day to be a wedding consultant. Mostly just to say I did it and give myself a good laugh. The joke is really on me though, if they decide they actually want to hire me.

Prayed and prayed that the issue of boys wouldn’t cross anyone’s lips this evening. No one wants to admit that the douchey guys from the bars are actually dumping YOU and not the other way around. Better to run with the “I’m just so busy, you know, job hunting”.

Which is such bullshit I’d probably laugh if I ever actually said it. Job hunting is like a sprint. You are pumped and excited for maybe an hour, but soon after the second or third online questionnaire you want to find a peaceful grassy area to lay your sleepy head on, and then have soft wistful dreams where no one asks you to describe what makes you an ideal candidate for a position at Petco.

Really job hunting is like a three hour a day type of stint. When you go over five hours I would really stop filling out the applications online all together. Your answers on the assessments start to become more negative and pessimistic. You’ll end up clicking that button for “Strongly Agree” when it states: people are generally bad.

And that’s not what they want they want you to say.

Or wait, is it? Is this why I get no call backs? Christ.

But in all reality the dinner was fine. Good food, wine was provided, and football was entertaining as well as a excellent distraction.

One thing I will say that I did not enjoy about the evening was not that my ex was there, even though he is not my favorite, but how he and I were the only ones to sit on the couch for about 45 min.

I know right, what’s the big deal it’s a fucking couch. I guess I was perplexed because our friend sat between my ex and I on the couch, got up for food and then found a chair to sit on. Our other friends also sat in chairs around this couch.

Picture if you will a medium sized couch, with two people sitting at opposite ends, trying to pretend like it’s not weird that they are sitting at opposite ends of a medium sized couch.

Now I don’t think it was purposeful on our friends part or anything, but weird none the less.

Well anyways cheers to the next event hosted by a married couple, and lets just wish on all our fingers and toes that I have a job by then. These eyebrows ain’t gonna wax themselves.