Single People Deserve to Die

A coworker of mine found out that their spouse (a salesperson) was scheduled to take a trip out of the country to an area that had been on the news lately because of outbursts of violence. Among the many reasons they came up with as to why this was a horrible idea (which I agree it was) was “It’s not like (they’re) a single person, they have a spouse.”

All of a sudden it became so clear. Since I have not married, my life is expendable. Phew, now I don’t feel nearly as bad for spending the weekend watching “Deadliest Catch” and eating dip. I probably will stop wearing my seat belt, start running with scissors and perhaps I should take up smoking or a nice heroin habit. Seeing as I am a 34 year old single person, it’s not like it would matter as much. I mean really, I’ve only got one ovary and fallopian tube left and at my ever advancing age, the likelihood of me procreating gets smaller every day.

Sure, I have pets, but they are just animals. I have family and such, but no one has chosen to be legally tied to me, therefore, I’m expendable.

I mean really people, how easy is it to be single?!?! I have one salary with which I pay for all my expenses. Luckily I have the opportunity to buy engagement, wedding, baby shower and other gifts for those people who have found someone who wants to have legal ties to them. It makes me understand that not only is my life not worth as much, but that all milestones in my life aren’t worth as much because Target doesn’t have a registry for “Single Girl’s New Place” or “Heather Needs a New Handbag” or “Dog and Cat Toys are Free.”  I don’t mean to imply that I begrudge my married and baby-making friends, but damn y’all, with a life as non-momentous as mine apparently has been, it hurts the ego.

I have the strength of one person to carry groceries up the stairs.  If a bug needs killing, it’s all me. If someone invites me to do something, pretty much no other person on the planet gives a shit if i do it or not. I mean, hell, I’m SUPER expendable since I don’t even have siblings. I’m like the SUPER SINGLE PERSON. I was born single, grew up single, hit mid-life (ish) single and at this point it’s looking like old age is going to be single for me too. It’s almost selfish of me to have a job. A job that could go to a married person with a family. But that’s how we single folks roll……

The single person really hardly even deserves a vacation, unless to go to a wedding, baby shower, funeral or other occassion. Once we hit our 30’s it gets hard to find a group of single folk (or open minded marrieds) who are apt to want to take the same vacation. Luckily for me, being an only child and all, I can take vacations with my parents….that isn’t pitiful at all!

I hate to sound like a whiner. I suppose I’m lucky that I haven’t been put in a home for spinsters by now. I’m fortunate that I’m allowed to walk the same streets and pay the same taxes as those who have legal ties to others. Maybe I’ll take the route of this lady at least I’d be married.

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What’s on my mind today.

  1. a certain friend who is being distant these days. When I ask them about something in particular they indicate that I don’t know what’s going on with their world right now and when I point out that the inquiry was attempting to remedy that precise situation, they say nothing.
  2. an email a friend sent me the other day about “farting strawberries” that continues to make me laugh out loud.
  3. how men can walk into the bathroom with a cup of coffee or other beverage in their hands and do their business. Even if they put the cup on the counter, who knows what kind of “spray” is floating around there. My office is across from the men’s room and I have offered my desk, etc…as a storage spot for beverages. Not nearly enough of them have taken me up on this offer.
  4. sometimes I think that I don’t express aspects of my personality and interest correctly. For example, I love to go to art shows, etc….but I think most people think I’m just a bar type gal.
  5. in addition to art, I also enjoy this immensely. If only I could roller skate and was at all a bad ass.
  6. I want attention from boys, but I don’t want to have to ask for it. Wait, correction, I want attention from certain boys.
  7. most people don’t get me. It’s not that I’m all complicated or anything, I think people just don’t know what to make of me a lot of the time. I guess it makes sense since I don’t know what to make of myself a lot of the time. Perhaps I need to find more folks who are willing to come along for the ride.
  8. There is a boy/man in my office whose hair I want to run my fingers through. In a meeting yesterday I could vividly imagine myself reaching across the table and doing just that. I even think my arm twitched a bit in an effort to move my imagination into reality.
  9. I can’t wait to move into my new place, but HATE packing.
  10. If I look just to the right of my monitor I see my Tim Gunn bobblehead and a chair that has one of my old bridesmaid dresses and a box with a broken piggy bank in it.
  11. My hair needs to be colored in the worst way.
  12. Everyone keeps coming in and “borrowing” my flavored coffee creamer. Whatever.
  13. There is a member of my family who is dying. This person has done terrible things and has pretty much ruined a segment of my family. However, they have recreated themselves for people who don’t know the “other stuff” and those people are completely devastated at the idea of the loss. I feel bad for the people who are able to live in ignorant bliss about this person.
  14. I miss my girlfriends in Cali. like crazy. Recently I’ve just wished it was like 9 years ago and we were all ruling the music department at a So Cal Borders with caustic wit and more estrogen then you can shake a stick at. The best part is that, even though we don’t see each other very often (and I see them the least of all) I know that they will always have my back and I will always have theirs.
  15. I really wish the damn IT guy would come load iTunes on my computer!!!!
  16. cupcakes again……
  17. my dog
  18. how my March madness bracket could have gone SO badly. However, not badly enough for me to be in last place in the work pool, where I would at LEAST get my $10 back!

Ok–that’s all. My mind has just stopped suddenly. I will now go watch the clock countdown until I will leave the office and go to the bar to play some trivia and drink some vodka…..but seriously, I do like art 🙂

Cupcake or crack?

I simply can’t decide.

Since the cupcake fad has hit Middle Tennessee with a vengeance in the last couple of months, it was only a matter of time before I got pulled into this vortex of frosting covered sin.

Gigi, you and your cupcakes are either proof of all that is good in the world, or a temptation that has come to fruition to divert our attention from all the bad in the world. I don’t think I will ever know until I have tried all the flavors, and I’ve got many to go before that is a reality.

If you see me walking down the street itching my arms with my frosting encrusted hands and sucking on paper wrappers, don’t be alarmed. Just get me a cupcake and no one gets hurt.

Where’s Kellie Pickler when you need her?

So, former American Idol contestant Kellie Pickler doesn’t know for sure if France is a country. Nor does she realize that Europe is NOT a country, but rather a continent. However, she is not in a partnership with Forbes magazine and posting articles about where all the wealth is stored.

Articles such as this one http://money.aol.com/forbes/general/where-the-worlds-wealth-is-stored.  Perhaps if I saw Ms. Pickler’s byline I would not be surprised at the fact that they have placed Fort Knox in Tennessee, NOT Kentucky, where it actually is.

That’s how we do in the South.  Shelbyville is NOT in Shelby County, Memphis is. Knoxville IS in Knox County, but Fort Knox is not. Try to keep up AOL. They did do one smart thing and not have a place for comments on this article.

First no high speed and now this……..

Work crush update

In the last 24 hours, the following have been witnessed by my work crush.

  • Me, meowing like a cat while holding my hair up in two ponytails during last night’s storms. If he had walked in two minutes earlier, it would have been funny, not sad/scary/disturbing.
  • Me, calling my friend who had an unfortunate incident in the ladies room earlier today, “Pee Butt” in a somewhat loud voice.
  • Me, hiking up my jeans before they showed my panties to all in the hall. Of course, he was the only one in the hall and all that was said was “Hey Heather, they have these things called belts. They’re kinda cool.” My response to this was to smile a doofy grin and pick up my pace a bit.
  • Me, upon walking into the kitchen and seeing that no one had thought to make more coffee after finishing the pot, saying “POOP!” quite loudly. THEN, while getting coffee out of the cupboard, before I could even do anything, I hear “OOOO, stripes, perhaps the belt isn’t for you.” I turned red, tried to act cool, hit the “start brew” button and  watched while a few tablespoons of coffee fell to the floor before I realized that I needed to replace the pot.

Seriously, I think I may have some sort of condition. It may require professional help. Or maybe I need to start drinking at work, then at least I would have an excuse for my behavior.

Failed attempts at eloquence

I have the urge to write tonight.

I want to write lovely words.

Thoughtful words.

Words to inspire.

Words that reflect who I am and who I want to be.

However, the only thoughts that come to mind are the fact that involve a “trip to South America” (aka, the horrors of a Brazillian wax) and the fact that I enjoy “playing the skin flute” and would like to have a recital soon.  Really, it’s true, all thoughts seem to be about genitals, mine as well as others.  Access to them, conditions of them, fun with them.  I’m usually not one to focus so much on the “nether regions” but this seems to be the theme for the day as of late.  It may be out of sexual frustration or some hormonal surge.  It may be that I am turning into a teenage boy.  I don’t know what it is or where it came from. I don’t really care that these thoughts consume my mind, but it is simply hard to be an intellectual when all you can think of is “cooch-a-nannies” and “joysticks.”

Mature….I know.

A Brief Accounting

Here is a brief list of my faults, issues, and confessions. There is no way in the universe that I would ever be able to list all of them, but here are the ones that seem to be causing me the most trauma lately.

  • I fear commitment
  • I fear being lonely
  • I like the wrong boys for the wrong reasons
  • I have big pores
  • I have a tendency to want people to like me so much that I don’t actually let them get to know the “real” me
  • I feel too much
  • I think too much
  • I eat chips and dip for breakfast sometimes
  • I don’t always brush my teeth twice a day
  • I wear my contacts for days on end when I am not supposed to
  • I love my pets too much
  • I REALLY love my dog too much
  • I’m self-centered
  • I can be self-destructive
  • I take insults well
  • I take compliments horribly
  • I don’t speak up for injustice because I still believe that people are doing the best they can with the information they have at the time
  • I have no tolerance for stupidity
  • When people say “Do what?” instead of “pardon me” “what was that?” or even “huh?” I want to scream
  • I bite my fingernails
  • I don’t like to clean my kitchen
  • I rarely put away my laundry
  • My good intentions outnumber my good deeds exponentially
  • I expect return phone calls
  • I have no problem sleeping with someone on the first date
  • I have dozens of pairs of shoes and handbags
  • There are 5 handbags in my possession that I have never used
  • I let my dog kiss me on the mouth (mouth closed!)
  • I’m easily entertained
  • I’m easily discouraged
  • I start lots of things that I never finish
  • I get ridiculously happy in the presence of musicians
  • I fear clowns, little people and lawn work
  • I put on a brave face when I want to cry
  • I spent so much of my life trying to not talk too loud that I now get accused of talking too softly
  • I sleep in my clothes more often then anyone with an actual home and actual pajamas should
  • I still believe in fairytales
  • If it wouldn’t make me sick I would only eat appetizers and desserts and only drink Tropicana Light Lemonade or Vodka Tonics
  • I like to get drunk….even if I sometimes fall down
  • I have a list of boys that I want to “lick from head to toe”–it’s a VERY short list and easier to get off then get on
  • I have a freakishly short tongue
  • Sometimes I would rather sit at home alone on Saturday night then go out with actual people
  • If I stay at home alone on Saturday night instead of going out with actual people, I will be pissed at myself about it on Sunday
  • I still draw on myself from time to time, but now I call it “tattoo research”
  • I want better cleavage
  • I rarely make my bed
  • I can’t find the right lipstick color
  • I need something to wear to the agency anniversary party
  • I’m more excited about the open bar at the anniversary party than Ricky Skaggs performing
  • I need a date to the anniversary party—ok, I don’t NEED one, I want one, one particular one.
  • I obsess over boys
  • I quote song lyrics a LOT!
  • I have an oral fixation
  • I want to go canoeing again, with pretty much the same exact people and a whole bucket full of new knowledge
  • I need new panties
  • I have bouts of insomnia and bouts of “whatever you call it when all you do is sleep, but not because you are depressed or physically exhausted”
  • I’m not participating in “Hands on Nashville Day” because I don’t want to be too tired to raise hell with my buddies Reckless Kelly that night
  • I still haven’t finished Harry Potter book 4 and it’s making me want to abandon the series all together
  • I’m tired of listing my faults