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.
Two interviews in about a weeks time, both vastly different from one another.
The first one being hardly a interview at all and instead like a meeting. Like with a client. I’m the client.
Don’t get me wrong, its beautiful and wonderful that someone found my sad little post grad resume online and decided to offer out a branch of assistance. Especially since this unemployed twenty five year old recently saw a pop up ad for “donating your eggs, giving the gift of hope” and wondered how much that would actually pay. Are we talking like one thousand dollars for one egg?
Ths branch of assistance that found me actually goes by the name of Ben, and he is a staffing agent who called me up to ask questions about my poor pathetic resume, to see if I’d want to meet up and discuss job opportunities.
How about um, hell yes.
What’s the first thing I do to Ben? Cancel on him. Sis goes into labor and I find myself in the car on the way to LA to play the role of most helpful Auntie. Second thing I do to Ben is cancel on him again, as I hold a colicky infant of about seven days of being in the world. Kevin and I discuss the weather over the cries of my nephew, and set up another date to meet.
Could not find that mother fucking building to save my life. Barely made it to the appointment on time but it was worth all the struggle.
Ladies and gentlemen Ben the staffing agent is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.
So sweet, so cute, hair parted in the middle, plaid shirt and khakis, and super interested in me (he has to be in order to find out where I would best be placed).
Not only is he so fucking cute but he is so insistent that he IS going to find me work. Like….are you for real? I’m not even paying you.
Also if you fail to get me a job, could we date instead? I hear it’s just like a job, but a really really good one 😉
oh yeah. you can see I get all the men folk.
Guys, this interview-meeting has been my main male interaction since getting blown off by great weekend guy and finding out that guy from the gym has a serious girlfriend.
I had considered making delicious and refreshing Newcastle my new boyfriend (especially if he’s on tap, then I’m willing to get serious) before good ol’ Ben came along. Good job on my part huh? Desperately putting my resume out online like that? Hats off to me for I am a fair and sensible lady.
Oh yes so the other interview! Well that was today. It was at the pizza parlor down the street….minimum wage….beer on tap…. it certainly has potential!
Is it weird that I’m excited to work there? I do enjoyeth my beer….
We shall see how it all turns out. In the meantime I will look forward to calls from Ben about my future (our future? yes please) and just have to drink beer from the bottle.
I couldn’t seem to muster any fragment of intelligence in the romantic arena this past week. Logic, sensibility, or desire to do anything that isn’t ultimately destructive didn’t appear to be present.
Bailed on a date with a cute guy I met at a bar. We had hit it off that night and he asked for my number shortly after he took my hand and led us off the dance floor to talk. We texted back and forth for several days and set up a date for the next week. So what’s the fucking problem you ask? No idea, I reply.
Hours before the date, I just didn’t want to go on it anymore. I felt like I knew too much about him already, through our texting for almost a week. I guess that what I learned about him I didn’t like? I lost the attraction? The intrigue was gone? All of a sudden the date seemed like a waste of time because I already knew I didn’t want to continue anything with him.
But why did I suddenly care about whether it’s going to go anywhere or not….? I’m in a “have fun” phase currently so why would our future status matter. Why did I abruptly find this fun date so reproachful? I made up some excuse about another guy to get out of it and he actually seemed rather disappointed about it.
The following weekend my ex joins us for bar hopping. Him and I are okay friends and are both still part of a large circle of friends, that are mostly paired off now. I was pretty hammered even before we got to the bar and when my ex got there I pretty much went after him right off the bat.
Danced with him all night and probably didn’t even let anyone else near him. Girls approaching us I probably hissed at and threw ice cubes in their face. I was so lost in it that I missed key things happening in our group through out the night such as someone in our group getting kicked out of the bar. We probably all left the bar with the trouble maker friend and I’m sure my mind was on holding my ex’s hand as we exited instead of hey why are we exiting.
My ex left early and my group finished out the night with some typical drama, losing phones and cussing out bitches who have the phone and don’t want to give the phone back. Sigh, life.
Somewhere in route to Taco Bell I sent my ex a text saying what a good time I had with him and that it got my hopes up.
The next morning with coffee in hand I laughed about the text, brushed it off. Oh silly me.
Three hours later, this time holding a sandwich, and it hits me. Why would I text that? OH MY GOD.
He never responds to it. Probably because he thinks doing so will in fact get my hopes up MORE. Let me throw in the kicker, in a months time he and I will be the only single people at our friends wedding.
Do I just have no self control at all? My friend had even tried to discourage my ex from coming that night because she had a feeling I might do something….not so intelligent. It’s sad that my friends know that certain people cannot go out with us because I will not be able to behave normally.
Eleven thirty am today I was sitting on the curb outside my friends house contemplating parts of this past week while still in my clothes from the previous day and clutching a bottle of wine I had gotten as a birthday gift. I was waiting for a ride because I do not have a car and my friends who took me out for my birthday had taken me to their house for more drinking and I had ended up spending the night.
I’m sure I looked a hot mess sitting there barefoot and hungover. It’s either that or your basic definition of a homeless alcoholic. I was playing with the ripped holes in my jeans and thinking about how I’m 25 now and how hysterical that is. Does any of this sound like someone who is 25? Could anyone deem this person as being a responsible 25 year old? An adult even?
Thinking about these recent dating woes and my current unemployment just makes it look like I’m making all the wrong decisions right? Like I’m fucking up all over and it’s anyone’s guess what I’ll do next.
Here’s the funny part, I think I’m okay with it. For the most part I mean, not fully. I’m not saying I want to go around making bad decisions, but a part of me is not much looking forward to the day when I have to have it all together.
I mean I’m twenty five years old and my life kind of feels like a joke, but it’s a joke I like telling.
Being unemployed since June now, my life has begun to mirror that of a stay at home mom.
Which is honest to God hilarious because I swore up and down even in high school that that would never be me. I was a career woman and nothing else.
Now before even the age of 25, I’m one hundred percent house-mom and just have to say, damn moms REALLY do it all.
Before my parents went on vacation I was just in charge of keeping the house clean and doing errands. Once that vacation started I was fully in charge of all four animals because trying to get my 21 year old brother to be anything besides a selfish slob only leads to disappointment.
Let me tell you these animals eat early. Like I’m talking six in the morning. Also they eat things they shouldn’t – cut to me chasing our puppy around and around the pool while she mockingly holds a half full container or raspberry yogurt in her mouth.
Also, animals destroy everything so you’re constantly having to watch them. Also they bark at nothing in particular at seven am and you’re forced to go outside and get them so you don’t have hate mail waiting for you on the doorstep.
I realize this is a slightly different post then my usual “I was at a bar…” or “I acted so dumb in front of this guy….” and while I’m still doing all of that at night (shoutout to the cuuuutie I danced with friday night. He got my number? Check. Have we of course not talked ever since? Check.) and during the day (I mumbled the most incoherent “have a good day” to the boy who works at the gym) the weekdays are filled with chore after chore.
In domestic life, if a particular day is your gym day or is a day where a friend of yours wants to go out for lunch, everything becomes just a tad more stressful because after the feeding of the animals, your own feeding, the gym, and then straight to lunch now all of your chores have been pushed back to the afternoon.
So this means the sweeping and swiffering of the kitchen, emptying and unloading the dishwasher, cleaning counter tops and tables, picking up toys and putting away miscellaneous laundry the animals got to, emptying the litter box, getting animals more outside and inside water, and then perhaps having an errand like picking up my dads dry cleaning or going to the store for more cat food or milk, is all supposed to be done by dinnertime.
here is the kicker, all of this to do and THERE AREN’T EVEN ANY KIDS.
Sure our animals may act like kids sometimes but I’m in no way obligated to help our cats with homework or pick up our dogs from school and then take them to soccer practice. Our dogs and cats get the same meal twice a day and they do not complain about it, ask me to make them something else, or throw it at me. I can only imagine how much more I would have to do if there were kids involved and my pulse races a bit just thinking about it.
Moms, I do not know how you do it.
The worst part of all is that the stuff that a mom wants to do, whether it be watching her favorite tv show or window shopping at the mall or a sport, only adds more things to the days agenda. Talking to a friend on the phone in the middle of chore time is rewarding for the catching up with the friend but bothersome in the sense that the phone is falling further from your ear as you try to hold the dustpan and broom simultaneously.
Being asked to lunch with one of your girlfriends is always fun but then something else gets sacrificed whether its less time at the gym or putting off the trip to the grocery store until later that afternoon.
How my mom was able to get her teaching credentials while my brother and I were small I have no idea. And how she was able to get her masters when all three of us kids were teens and preteens and probably even messier then we were as toddlers is even more shocking.
Meanwhile I can barely sweep and talk on the phone at the same time.
Wait…so you don’t want to get drunk off cheap wine and talk about how hot the guys are on random game shows?… I don’t understand.
Oh married friends, I’m starting to sense the parting of our ways.
Is it time to let them go? Or maybe I need to get my shit together?…nah, the time thing.
Left my to-be-married-in-like-three-months friends house just a couple moments ago and said to myself wow I think they barely survived that, and by that I mean hanging out with my single friend and I who basically dropped F bombs left and right (mostly me), drank wine out of the bottle (mostly her), reenacted the night my parents called me an alcoholic (all me), and discussed the hot or not people on TV (both of us).
I didn’t mean to overwhelm this happily engaged pair,but I guess it had just been awhile since they had hung out with the two of us at the same time, while we consumed alcohol.
What triggered this spontaneous hangout in the first place was my best friends wedding this weekend. The almost married couple attended and caught up with my friend and I, and then texted us to hang out two days later.
Maybe they forgot what we are like or perhaps thought we had matured. It’s possible that they do not even realize that they have in fact changed and act one hundred percent married. They’re so believable that I even wondered if they had cheated and read their vows to one another. Maybe one of them had their mom go online and become sanctioned (is that even what it’s called?) and she officiated (is that right either?) them as man and wife right there in the kitchen.
I’m really not sure what they were expecting when inviting us over. I’m still single and now unemployed, did you think I’d be LESS drunk?
I would like to believe that the two of them just outgrew me, and it’s not that I’ve become any less hilarious. Or maybe the ways in which I used to be outrageously funny are now ridiculous to them due to their more sedentary,and well lets face it, boring lifestyles.
I suppose filling my wine glass to the brim and loudly telling stories using wild hand motions doesn’t make me anyone’s ideal guest but doesn’t my cynicism, foul language, sexual innuendos, and overall inappropriate behavior make me a form of entertainment, if you will?
Perhaps I used to be, but at this stage in this soon to be wed couples life maybe they are looking for a source of entertainment a tad more sophisticated than what I can bring to the table.
Hats off to them for wanting to grow up a little. Maybe I’ll find new friends in the section where they sell that ridiculous cheap wine I keep purchasing.
I’m sure many of my friends are expecting to find me in a ditch one of these mornings, an empty bottle of rum in my hand with some broken ribs, possibly wearing flannel. Maybe I’ll have stolen a car from some teenagers but then one of their moms will get in her SUV and come chase me down. She’ll kick me in the stomach after I kind of accidentally fall in the ditch, due to the rum and all. I don’t really know where the flannel comes in but when I picture myself in a ditch I just see myself wearing flannel.
This is sort of a strange fantasy to be playing out but if the people I knew thought this was a plausible event right now I wouldn’t blame them, because as of last week I am now unemployed.
Unemployment on top of having recently moved back in with my parents on top of living in my hometown on top of my best friend getting married in a week on top of having recently been dumped by someone twice my age on top of my sister and best friend both being pregnant on top of Sarah Simmons being voted off The Voice.
Okay I guess the last one wasn’t that serious but I think you get the drift that basically my life is getting all shitty while the lives of those around me increasingly attractive.
However, instead of standing creepily outside highschools drinking my rum in my flannel shirt and waiting for kids to walk to the most expensive cars I have decided to reside in this place called the land of options.
I stumbled upon this land the day after I quit my job. My family and I had dinner at Logan’s Roadhouse, I had never been but apparently you can throw peanuts on the ground? Sure, always a good time throwing peanuts on the ground. Anyhow the waiters were super nice and I noticed there were lots of hot guys working there. I told my dad “I should see if they’re hiring” and my dad goes “Sure! Why not?”. I thought about it more that day, that statement: “Sure!Why not?” and thought wow, I could literally do anything.
Now I haven’t lost my mind or anything. I DO realize I can’t just do anything, but I do feel this sense of freedom that I’m not held down to anything. I do not have to stay in a job I can’t stand to support a family nor am I tied down to a company or particular career track.
So as I’m coming up on 25 years old in a couple of months,I’m aware that this is the age where some people are settling into grown up jobs or starting families. Well, I guess I’m not “some people.” Instead I’m going to be that girl, waking up on the day of her 25th birthday thinking, what’s today going to be?
So no ditches for me quite yet, lets just enjoy this fleeting moment of not being tied down, while I still can.