I have to be honest with y’all, I didn’t stay smoke-free for more than about two weeks. So today, I have My Last Cigarette again…but this time, I have backup!
So if I seem a little
grumpy grumpier than usual, I have an excuse this time.
And NO, I am not going to “buy myself a present” for staying smoke-free. It will be “present” enough for me that I no longer smell like a truck stop waitress in a seedy dive bar. And that I totally lose my appetite when I quit smoking – that could really count in my favor.
What is it with guys and rejection? I remember one that, upon me breaking up with him, shouted, “I just knew you were a witch!” Yes, witch, not bitch. (Although I am that, too.) He claimed he was afraid that I’d now put a hex or spell or whatever witches do on him. His reasoning: You burn candles all the time. It’s my fault because it took me that long to figure out I needed to break it off with the moron.
Then there was the one I forgot I had a date with because I had already moved on to the next in a long line of losers. He stood outside my apartment, pounding on the door. “I know you are in there!!” I crawled on my hands and knees to avoid the windows (oops, forgot to draw the blinds, dumbass?), all the while on the phone with My New Future Ex-Boyfriend. A few days later, I received an email from him, spewing vitriol and calling me a lot of probably well-deserved choice names. The last line of the email: “I’m going to call the Lesbian Police and report you!” What the holy hell? Yeah, right, just because I don’t want you, that means I’ve switched sides. Stupid boys!
Then there was the one who told me early on how awful he thought it would be to be broken up with via email. Three or so months later (if even that long), after repeatedly warning him to give me some space or it wouldn’t work out (“Damn, don’t you have some guy friends to go out with or something? I don’t need someone up my ass 24/7!”), I sent him an email: “It’s over.” Dude, if you don’t want me to stab you in the back, don’t hand me the fucking knife to do it with!
I’m so lucky that I grew up, got some standards and met the non-BF. He is none of those things that drive me away: clingy, demanding, possessive, controlling, moronic or weak. How is a girl supposed to respect someone if he lets her walk all over him?
I hate it when my DVR thinks it’s okay to fast forward through a show I am watching just because I’VE BEEN WATCHING TV FOR 12 HOURS. I also hate it when I realize I’m really quite a slacker and a lazy bitch for spending my Saturday in front of the TV. I wake up to Will Wheaton bowling on the Big Bang Theory and then Saving Private Ryan. I wish I’d just I’d just stayed asleep. Bowling sucks and that movie always makes me cry. And makes me want to hug a veteran. I really, really wish there would be a world without war someday. We Americans don’t know what we have and what we take for granted each day. I totally realized that for sure when I went to a
third world country developing country two years ago. Normally, I don’t get all sentimental and shit in here but no matter what side you may be on, those incredible people who fought and died for our country and our freedom deserve absolutely every honor we can bestow upon them.
Years ago, and not that many, I would wake up in the middle of the night and wonder what the hell I did with the eight hours preceding that thought. These days, I wake up, check the number of animals in the house (plus or minus Mr. Tail when he visits), and I wonder what the hell I will do with my night. Some might call me crazy, but loving and living in a world of animal rescues kind of feels like home to me.
Once upon a time, there was one fabulous, mixed up dog, and then there were three. When Trouble left this world, I wanted to die. Luckily, my very wise mother reminded me there were more dogs counting on me. And soon thereafter, another one came into the mix. Add the tiny white dog, and we’re set. Except for the stray cat who lived under my porch that I decided to
foster adopt. In my life, there is and almost always has been a dog. Sometimes it’s beautiful, sometimes it’s ugly. Every single time, it’s LOVE. Now I have a cat, too. Crazy Animal Lady!
I found some more scraps of paper in the bottom of another purse. One of my favorites…
Me: You missed me making Sand Boobs. Him: (just a look) Me: Seriously, I had a C cup, a double D and a training bra. Then some brat comes along and destroys the big ones.
And another one I don’t really remember writing, but I’m sure it happened…
Me, on the phone with my mom: I did not have wine. My dad: muffled sounds in the background My mom: You father thinks you said you didn’t have worms.
I know there are those who say “Size doesn’t matter,” and they are usually guys, but size matters, it really does. It totally matters when you are trying to squeeze your ass into your favorite jeans and half of your stomach is coming up for air over the waistband. Celery anyone?
I give you this: