Pages

Friday, October 26, 2018

34

I once went to a dinner party where one of the guests stood up and showed me her vajayjay. She had been talking about how she got Brazilian waxes. This being years ago, I had never heard of a Brazilian wax. So she stood up, lifted her skirt, and showed me her bare snatch in front of everyone. That was nowhere near as awkward as the idea of spending another year of my life doing the same old same old.
How am I feeling? I feel like I want to be emersed in hot water and emerge with a life, job, money, and a man worthy of a  34-year-old woman. I have been told that fear and doubt are lifelong obstacles, but my obstacles have been hanging around for a bit too long. I have got to shake these and at least make rooms for some new ones.
And yes, I have been feeling this way for a while. You may be wondering what everyone else in my life is wondering: what will make next year different than the horrors of years passed? As tired and depressed and downtrodden that I am and have been, I have to make this year a year of action. And not because I can't wait to hit the ground running, but because I have seen what happens when you sit on your ass and cry for years and I have to tell you all, it's not pretty.
To show you how serious I am about 34, I am already getting ready for the new me, a whopping two months in advance. And this is serious. I could be using this two months to enjoy the last bit of time I can dedicate to my destitution and deep unhappiness but no, I am making moves baby! And last week, I made the biggest move yet: I bought a new journal. All the lady bosses who claim that they have it all together have all said journaling your goals and dreams is the easiest, quickest way to get your life off the ground. It's pink, sparkly, and has some type of positive saying on the front. It has good juju and I am excited to see what good luck it brings me.
But for now, I am going to watch E! TV in my nightgown and silk bonnet while drinking hot tea out of a plastic bowl...braless. I know. Awkward.

Thursday, October 25, 2018

Slump

More than one of my friends has brought to my attention that they think I am in a life slump. 
"What do you do all day?" P asked me last night over the phone. "Do you just watch TV?"
"No. I also sleep and cry," I said honestly, nibbling on a mint-flavored floss stick. He asked me this after I casually tried to give him a five minute, three season round-up of Greenleaf. He seemed annoyed but didn't go any further which should have rung as a bad sign. He usually doesn't miss a beat when it comes to sticking a needle in my balloon. 
Then my aunt got mad at me this morning after I tried to connect something she was telling me to something I learned from one of my favorite shows, Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making the Team
"Why are you always talking about that stupid show?!" she snapped. "You need to go out into the world, get a job, and make some friends!"
"I have friends!" I defended. True tea. 
"You need work friends. When you had work friends, you went out."
I rolled my eyes. I used to be so outgoing. Now I just want to lay down on the floor and catch up on How To Get Away With Murder. The disappointments of the past few years have been overwhelming and momentous. And yes, everyone has hard times. I am told that the cure to this is to keep pushing, but I have to say, I have pushed myself sleepy. All I want to do is take a tune out. I guess the trick is making sure that this is not what the rest of my life adds up to. However, right now, I am in no mood for tricks. I just want to binge my recorded episodes of American Horror Story

Monday, October 22, 2018

Stress Forgetfulness

I suffer from stress forgetfulness. I don't know if this is a real thing that doctors recognize, but I have noticed it about myself and have given it a name.
Due to my recent bout of stress and anxiety, I forgot to take down my two-strand twists for a week and a half. Not. Good. I spent all of this morning detangling my hair. I am sure that if I would have waited another day, I would have dreadlocks.
There is a very important bill that I have to pay. It was due on the 10th, and I have been walking around with the envelope and money order in my purse since before then.
The worst thing that my stress forgetfulness has caused me to do is forget to call my student loan provider to let them know, AGAIN, that I am broke and unable to make payments. But it's okay. They called Transunion who then called Credit Carma who then emailed me and let me know that, as punishment for not returning that stream of endless calls, my score has dropped. I'M PISSED! I had just gotten to Needs Work! I'm now at Needs A Life Line.
I wish I could just stand at the top of the highest mountain and yell, "HEY! I HAVE BEEN GOING THROUGH SOME TOUGH STUFF! STUFF SO HORRIFYING THAT IT HAS CAUSED ME TO LASP INTO BOUTS OF AMNESIA! CAN THE WORLD REFRAIN FROM KICKING ME UNTIL I CAN AT LEAST REMEMBER TO TRY TO GET MY LIFE NOT TO SUCK?!
Unfortunately, that is not the way of the world. I wish I could forget to cry over the state of things.

When and If

Unintentionally, I have found myself mingling with a new group of women. These women are spiritually sound, grounded, and genuinely happy about life. Typically, women this optimistic annoy me, but I find their relentless excitement about their futures to be a little refreshing. I think that my ends are shedding and that my complexion is going down the toilet. I could use a little sunlight.
One thing that this predominantly single group of women likes to say is, "When I get married." Like, "When I get married, I hope my husband won't mind cooking." "When I get married, I want to wait at least a year before we have kids." These women range in age from about 27-38, so they are good and grown. I can't blame their confidence on youth. They KNOW they are going to get hitched. For me, marriage is an if at best.
By about 25, I had decided that I probably wouldn't get married. I began to pay attention to the women around me that were getting married, mainly my old college classmates, and I realized that I was nothing like them. They were skinny and pretty and unrealistically successful for their ages. I was, at the time, rooming with three girls, getting paid once a month, and sustaining myself on Doritos and this large tray of obviously genetically enhanced chicken legs from my local grocer. What did I have to offer a man other than college debt and a possibly cancerous dish of chicken and rice?
Joining Instagram renewed a spark in me about love that I had not had since my kindergarten crush brought me a Strawberry Shortcake square valentine with a piece of chocolate taped to it. I found myself daily falling down the rabbit hole of wedding gown photos, bridal party selfies, and those dreaded engagement ring pics. Foolishly, I began to fantasize about who my bridesmaids would be and where me and my man would go on our honeymoon.
Now, at 33, I think that marriage is about as possible for me as sprouting a pair of wings on my back. I have so many things to fix about myself before I think that it would be appropriate to even accept a Good Morning text from a guy. I need to lose weight. I need to get a job. I need to save money. I need to buy a house. I need to finish the past two season of The Walking Dead.
So lets say that WHEN I get my life together, I will consider marriage IF there are any men left interested in a pessimistic woman over 40 who enjoys short walks to her Uber and Wal-Mart brand fudge-striped cookies. Fingers crossed.

Wednesday, October 10, 2018

Reviews

Apparently, my church singles ministry isn't as boring as I was originally led to believe. During the church's recent women's retreat, I was informed by my bonk mate that the singles often go on these cute little group dates. It's like Jesus's answer to speed dating. Naturally, I wanted in. So I asked her about the guy I like at church, Bill, and she had bad news for me.
"Yeah, he's single. But he has bad reviews."
I felt like someone had let the air out of my balloon. He's really hot. Really sweet. Employed. But the review is that he is a bit of a man-child. This wouldn't be that big of a deal if he were not about three years older than me.
Later that night, I found myself mourning Bad Review Bill. I liked him so of course, his reviews had to be bad. But then it dawned on me: who amongst us doesn't have bad reviews?  I have made it a point to completely cut off communication with any man I have ever talked to romantically, but if I found their number in an old phone and asked them for my reviews, I am betting they would be worst than Bill's.
Sickles would say that I am a tease that is way too available. Because I was lonely, I would still accept his calls, when he did call, which could be anywhere between 2-3 times a year.
H-Town, this overly optimistic tard that I met at the mall would tell you that I am a downer. His relentless glass-half-full attitude made me feel even sadder than I was usually. He gave me no space to express my real feelings, so I found myself often lying about my mood, sweetening all of our texts with happy emojis that I didn't mean. He went back to Texas for a job and I was happy. I'd rather be depressed than fake excited about life.
The others would take note of my fear of germs, refusal to French kiss, and irritating naivety when it comes to dating. Pool Bae from the pool at the gym would have worst reviews that that, upset about how I wanted him to be my boyfriend and cut him off when he said that that was not an option. He liked me and all, but his main girl was paying all of his bills, which was great because he paid a butt-load in child support, and he didn't want to shake things up. I found that unacceptable and we stopped talking. I'm sure he would say I'm not understanding.
As we try to find love in our 30s, should past reviews even matter? Another woman's complaint could be your Godsend. Or should us mature daters pay even more attention to 2-star guys, seeing that we no longer have dating time to waste? I guess that depends on the woman. I myself am not sure, but Bill is cute enough not to care either way.

Seniora Flake and Shake

Since my friendship began with Seniora Flake and Shake when I was 19, I have been totally confused about where we really stood. Maybe I am needy. Maybe I am extra. But I like to know where I stand with all the people in my life, not just males I'm romantically interested in and to be honest, since the beginning, my friendship with Seniora Flake and Shake has been an It's Complicated situation.
Even as college sophomores, she had a way of taking me on and off the shelf when she needed someone to confide in. And I guess that was cool with me because I thought that she was cool and at 19, everyone in your life is shakey. Her life was a series of romantic dramas and nightmares that was juicy and dramatic to a gal like me that spent her Saturday nights in the dorm listening to old Outkast CDs. Throughout our 20s, it got worse. I would only hear from her when she needed advice or a secret kept. And that transitioned to me not hearing from her for months at a time, only to get a call randomly as if no time had passed. I never called her on it because I was happy to hear that she was alive. Seniora liked to party.
Three years ago things really got bad. I got a new phone and sent out a Facebook group message requesting all my friends' numbers. She left the group. I then sent her a private message, and she did not respond. Months later, I got her number from a mutual friend as to text her and ask for her email address to send her an invite to my birthday party. She responded with an attitude so I gave her some space and kept her invite to herself. She had gone from shakey and flakey to completely absent. Although she had always been touch and go, she could be a good friend at times. She donated money to my project of trying to stay in my apartment after I lost my job. That's a good friend, right?
The icing on the cake was when I messaged her after my mom died and her whole attitude was that of a woman that couldn't be bothered. I was shocked, seeing that she's a shrink!
That was a year ago. Last week, she hit me up on Facebook to give me tickets to a play she can't make it to. No cost. She just thought I'd like it.
If I had her number, I would call her and ask simply and gently WHAT THE HELL ARE WE? I mean, we can't be friends, can we? Were we ever? I found myself meditating yesterday about where the ball dropped with us and, I dare say, that there was never a ball to begin with. I'm no longer 19. I need stability in all my relationships. I need reasoning. I need to be able to talk things out when they go south. But there is also a time when you have to realize you have been friend dumped and move on. I'm not sure how to feel. I will let you know after the play.

Monday, October 8, 2018

Friends

I will admit that I have had a huge issue with comparing myself to other women, and with the creation of social media, it has only gotten worse. As I sit here broke, I have the pleasure of logging on to my Instagram to see my rich college friends traveling the world and buying houses. But there is something to be said for being thankful for what you do have, and what I do have is friends.
Over the weekend, I had the opportunity to attend a women's conference. And during the conference, so many women opened up about not having friends. Can you imagine not having so much as one person you call a friend? While I have been drooling over people in my life that have nice cars and money to throw around, I really didn't understand how blessed I am to have friends in my life. And not just seat fillers; people who only come around when there is a housewarming or a bowling night. I mean real friends, like the people that I called after my mom died and when I went broke. There is truly something to be said about having a community. They typically take years to build and as I am finding out, no amount of cash can buy you genuine support.
I'm realizing that this is one of those grownup lessons that they tell you when you are a kid that doesn't resonate until you are older. And even though I don't have my own car or place to live, I can say that I'm very happy that I have good people in my life. I get now that there are other girls out there that don't.