Heart shaped rocks

Heart shaped rocks

Hey! Wait! I’ve got a new complaint.

Ok, I don’t really have a new complaint, but I’ve had that Nirvana song stuck in my head for the better part of the last 24 hours now. And yes, I know the song is Heart Shaped Box, not heart shaped rocks, but I found a bunch of heart shaped rocks yesterday, and that’s where my 90% song lyrics and movie quotes brain went with it. Let’s back up just a little bit though, and get to why this is even something I’m bothering to get my blog therapy on with.

Sometimes I feel as if Urban Dictionary hit the nail on the head when they described the tiny little town that I live in like this:  “A little hell hole of a city in Utah where 98% of the population are close minded hicks or Mormons. The weather ranges between freaking hot to freaking cold. There’s a point system to how many prairie dogs you can hit on the way to Colorado. The school system is run by the not German Nazis. The shittiest city on earth to attend high school in. A black meaningless void of which you’ll never escape once you’ve set foot in it. A geographic anomaly in which everything is approximately 3 and half hours away.” In all fairness though, everything is approximately 3 hours away, and 2 1/2 if law enforcement and wildlife cooperate.

Living in this little geographic anomaly tends to make things particularly difficult for the girl who prefers anonymity and generally only dates in those areas 3 hours away. It’s nice, because then nobody knows your business (including the guys, who don’t realize you’re not really worth the trouble…), but here’s the catch 22: sometimes this shit actually works out, and then that 3 hours is a huge pain in the ass. Case in point: I was kind of, sort of dating this really awesome guy a couple of years ago. Then life got in the way and the 3 hour commute was a bit much for either one of us. Ok…full disclosure: we were totally cockblocked by Mother Nature one winter when the relentless witch decided that mountain passes were going to be impassable without 4WD every single weekend he didn’t have his kids. Anyway, he started dating someone else without the 3 hour commute, and I went back to business as normal in the geographic anomaly where my social/dating life is a giant black hole. We stayed friends though, because we’re adults who can handle shit like that.

Skipping forward a couple of years, this guy and I are still great friends. He gets me, I get him, and he has this uncanny ability to contact me when I’m having THE worst day. It’s the best really; if I had it all to do over again, I’d get friend-zoned by him again without even thinking twice about it. Come to think about it, I’d happily get friend-zoned again by literally everyone Tinder has made me cross paths with. But back to the story. Life has been a GIANT douche to this friend of mine lately, and when I talk to him about it(OK, text, because there are like 12 ways of contacting me on my phone, and none of them require me actually using it as a phone…..but also because I can text while at work), I like to throw in the not so subtle message of #MoveToVernal. We both realize this is a scorched Earth option. It’s 3 hours away from his kids, although, I also joke about befriending his ex-wife and then convincing her to move here, so then his kids will be here too. Realistically though, none of that is going to happen. It didn’t stop the talks about this #MoveToVernal option from getting just a little bit serious over the past little while though, and I hate how much I liked the thought of that.

So what’s to hate about the thought of one of your closest friends moving to the same town you live in? Well….there wasn’t any problem with it, until I saw a picture of him with his kids this weekend. They were all so incredibly happy. He is seriously THE best dad, and my first thought upon seeing that picture was “there is absolutely no way he can be 3 hours away from them,” and I felt like a giant asshole for even suggesting it. My next thought was “What in the hell is this crushing feeling in my soul?” That was coupled with the reality that it was feelings. Gross right? I walked right in to the damn things.

Yesterday, my BFF and keeper of my secrets invited me to go to the lake with her and some of her friends. I needed some sun, water, and friends in my life, so of course I went. At one point we decided to jump off the boat and wander around on the beach. We were walking on some wet sand, when all of the sudden we sunk almost up to our knees in the wet, muddy sand. While the kids were laughing about it, it was poetic justice for me really. That damn muddy sand was a whole hell of a lot like those feelings I had fallen right in to for a minute. I was just walking along the beach of life, and then *bam* stepped right in to feelings.

We pulled ourselves out of the mud pretty easily and washed off in the lake, then continued on along the beach looking for cool stuff. One of the girls we were with found some sweet sunglasses, and I found a plethora of freaking heart shaped rocks. I skipped right over the first few of them, but then I had an idea. I kept 4 of the heart shaped rocks and took them with me on the swim back to the boat. Only 3 of them survived; the black one that I joked was a replica of mine broke in 2 pieces in my hand as I swam back to the boat. Turns out it was a little more fragile than it looked. (Mother f wording symbolism there!) As for the other heart shaped rocks, I waited until we were in the deepest part of the lake and threw them overboard, because hearts represent feelings, and feelings are overrated, and just a little bit lame.


Build your ideal partner

Build your ideal partner

Memes other people post provide me with endless entertainment on social media. Yesterday’s most memorable: Ladies, you have $5 to build your ideal man. Here are the options.

  1. Good looking $3
  2. Funny $1
  3. Smart $1
  4. Great in bed $2
  5. Faithful $3
  6. Wealthy $3
  7. No kids $1
  8. Tall $1
  9. Great body $2
  10. Romantic $2

People’s responses in the comments were cracking me up. (For the record, almost all of them were liars who said 10 and 5 were all they needed.) My response: It’s a good thing I manage money better than your average girl, because 1-5 are non-negotiable. This response garnered plenty of laughing reactions as well as a message telling me once again that I’m too picky and will never find someone who fits my impossible standards.

Laugh at me all you want; it’s part of my profession after all, but don’t tell me I’m too picky. Can I “build” something I’ll settle for within the limits of the game? Sure, but the game didn’t ask what I’ll settle for; I was asked to build my ideal partner. So in life, as in internet memes, I’ll continue to not play by the rules, or settle just because “it’s time for you to settle down with a nice boy…or girl if that’s what you’re in to.” Life is too short to settle just because everyone thinks you should, and options 1-5 truly are non-negotiable.

On asking for what you want

On asking for what you want

I’ve seen no less than 20 of my friends, and friends of friends post a variation of this meme in the last 3 days alone on Facebook and Instagram. For the most part, I love you all, but really?! Do we have to go there with the passive aggressive “what all girls want” post? Here it is…

15 things every girl wants from her guy but won’t ask for

  1. Good morning and Good night texts
  2. Pictures taken together
  3. Surprises, especially little ones
  4. Visiting and bringing her favorite food
  5. A hoodie with his scent on it
  6. Really long hugs
  7. Slow dances
  8. Sincere compliments
  9. Sing her favorite song, even if it’s out of tune
  10. Make her feel special
  11. Real, deep conversations
  12. Nonsense, but funny conversations too
  13. His “gentlemanliness”
  14. Comfort and patience when she’s in tears
  15. Telling her how much you love her.

Did I miss the part where as women, we aren’t allowed to just come out and ask for what we want in a relationship? I mean, every single one of the people I have seen share this lately are in a long-term relationship. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. So….what’s with the passive aggressive posting? Why not just tell your guy whatever the hell it is you need to be happy in your relationship?

Newsflash….guys aren’t mind readers, and they aren’t going to pick up on your “subtle” Facebook post. If you want his hoodie, steal it from him, and give it back when it doesn’t smell like him anymore, but if you really want the rest of that stuff, you may just need to communicate it. And while you’re at it, maybe ask him what he wants too and reciprocate. But while we’re on that…maybe ALL girls don’t want their guy to slow dance and take pictures. Some of us don’t want you ruining our favorite song by singing it out of tune, and would be perfectly happy if you just pull our hair, touch our butt (among other things), and eat tacos with us. But then, what do I really know about relationships? I’m the eternally single one, and y’all are married or spoken for…so maybe the passive aggressive thing is really what works these days…


The one where Hell ALMOST froze over….but not really

The one where Hell ALMOST froze over….but not really

There was a conversation in my office the other day about how Millennials take longer than previous generations to accomplish major life milestones. For instance, they’re waiting longer to get married, have children, buy homes, that sort of thing. The argument was that Millennials are spending more time and placing more value on education than previous generations, and while that may be true, I think it has more to do with the fact that getting married, having children, and buying a home cost so much more freaking money than they did in previous generations.

When I interrupted the conversation to point out that the Milllenial making these observations was married before he could even legally purchase alcohol, I was countered with “Well how old were you the first time someone proposed to you?” First things first….I am not a Millennial, and secondly, technically…I was last month years old, which is still WAY past when Millennials are typically getting married.

A few months ago, some incredibly intelligent, college educated professionals asked me to take part in a little project with them. Of course I was happy to join the cool kids, because this sort of thing was definitely my cup of tea. Why they thought I was even on the same level as them was completely baffling, but hey, it was a chance to hang with the cool kids, who for some reason thought I had something to offer in this project.

Fast forward to the end of our project. We were all at dinner last month when we realized that the results for this shindig were still far from being complete, and the restaurant closed 30 minutes ago, so we moved our little soiree to the hotel lobby. As it got later, we were all sitting around on our phones when out of the blue this happened:

Party A: Hey, if “highly improbable result” happens, we are getting married. Like tonight.
Me (in my head): Well…we are in a hotel. Maybe we should test drive the car first.
Me (out loud): OK! Twist my rubber arm.
Party A: laughs
Party B: I get to be the best man!!
Party C: I guess that makes me the maid of honor.
All: laughter all around

Obviously it’s too hot in Utah in the summer for Hell to freeze over, which is an event that’s almost certain to happen before I get married, so that shotgun wedding was out of the question. I mean there was also the fact that the highly improbable result we were looking for didn’t happen either, so Party A dodged a bullet, although if Party C has any say in the matter, not permanently…

I’m just looking for someone to buy me a Bentley: an experiment in online dating.

I’m just looking for someone to buy me a Bentley: an experiment in online dating.

A while ago (ok, it was on my birthday this year), I received a text that said “You should reward and pamper yourself. Spend the whole day in bed. You don’t look like you’re 38 at all, at most 34. Go find a boyfriend. Maybe try online dating. Don’t just immerse yourself earning money.” (Hey…immerse myself in earning money is a bit harsh. I’m just doing what it takes to pay the bills, and unfortunately this means working all the damn time, so there’s that.) Why though? This was in response to me telling this person that I was celebrating my birthday by working, just like any normal Friday, because I’m not 12 and I’d rather not acknowledge the fact that I’m old. That spending the whole day in bed did sound appealing though!


I can’t even count the number of times I’ve heard some variation of “have you ever considered online dating,” or “maybe you need to lower your standards a little bit,” or “maybe if you looked outside of the area with one of those apps you’d have better luck.” Thanks…I get it, but you know what? I’m not Jerry Maguire, and I don’t REALLY need anyone to complete me. I’ve been single for a while now. It’s working out pretty well. Like…I think I’m the one, although it wouldn’t be all bad to have someone to join in on that whole spend the whole day (or 20 minutes or so on the regular) in bed advice. 😉 😉

What she didn’t know though, was I was already trying online dating. I mean, not for finding a boyfriend, because the thought of actively trying to do that is overwhelmingly daunting. I mean, last time someone asked me what I was looking for in a relationship, I told them “Someone I’m comfortable enough around that the relationship happens before I realize I’m in one. It’s best if I don’t realize I tripped in to some feelings until it’s too late to just brush that shit off.” They slapped me, I laughed, and that was the end of it. Still, I was already messing around with online dating simply so I could answer the question “What are you looking for here” with “TBH, I’m just looking for someone to buy me a Bentley,” and so began a whole slew of instant unmatches, and some rather fantastic responses.

  • You’re worth a Geo Metro at best.
  • What if I just give you my Bentley?
  • You realize that’s like a quarter of a million for a car don’t you?
  • Wanna leak a sex tape with me? It worked for Kim Kardashian.
  • How about unlimited rides on my disco stick instead? (Throwing down the Lady Gaga reference…good one.)
  • I hope you’re not serious, because there’s no world where you or any chick is worth a Bentley!
  • What color would you like, and are you comfortable “working it off” at the going rate? 😉 😉
  • I named my d!ck “Bentley” just for you. (This came several times, along with a shit ton of unsolicited pictures.)

One of my very personal favorites though: “I’m gonna need to see a topless picture first.” Yeah…let me get right on that….

I’m just looking for someone to buy me a Bentley. I’m really not, but I wouldn’t turn one down either, provided it came with the insurance prepaid too, and a new house to park it at. I mean, I’m not looking for someone to “complete me” but I’d sell my soul if the price was right…


I don’t know how you do it

I don’t know how you do it

This morning, I received a text from a friend that read “Good morning beautiful friend.  THANK GOD IT’S FRIDAY! I don’t know if I have ever been so thankful. Holy crap… I almost could not get out of bed this morning. I cannot wait to sleep in tomorrow. I don’t know how you do it…”

The “it” she is referring to would be the working 6 days a week, with at least 3 of those being days when I leave for work at 5:30am and get home from work at 9pm, only to wake up and do it all over again. The “short days” are still rarely less than 10 hours, and she doesn’t even know about the fun new trick my body likes to play on me where it wakes up at 3am and then finally lets the anxiety ease around 4, just so I can wake up again at 5 to do it all again. Sounds fun doesn’t it?

There once was a time when I could sleep in on the weekends, but now I wake up at old person o’clock, so that’s pretty much shot too. In all honesty, I’m beginning to understand why my paternal grandparents used to wake up at 5am, have coffee on the porch, and then switch to vodka and water by 10am, with the vodka content consistently getting higher until they went to bed at 6:30pm or so, only to repeat the process the next day. Some days this sounds all too appealing, minus the cigarettes they chain smoked of course. Some days, I wonder why they didn’t just start with whiskey in their coffee before they moved on to the vodka. It would have saved them the horrid taste of Las Vegas water.

Anyway, I digress. We’ve had this conversation several times, my friend and I, and she usually ends it with “You are a total bad ass.” Then I say it’s not true, and she points out how I manage to juggle 2 jobs, the kid (not so much anymore, since he’s couch surfing with friends, but for the 19 years leading up to that…yeah), several different organizations that I volunteer with, and how I somehow still end up finding time to help people out when they need it.

Still, I don’t feel like a bad ass in the least, so I’m glad from the outside looking in, it appears that way, but the truth is, I’m just doing whatever it takes to survive. Someone once told me “You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.” Welcome to my life.

In the same conversation, she told me I should make a move on 2 of the guys she thinks are interested in me. I’m sure they’re NOT, but it’s flattering that she thinks I’m even on the same level as either one of these guys. Actually the exact words of the text were “Marry the hot doctor or lawyer who are checking you out.” And why was this completely unpractical, never going to happen but God bless her for thinking it’s a possibility, fairy tale advice sent? Because in response to her telling me I was a true bad ass, I said “I’m just surviving is all. I’ve spent 2 straight decades in fight or flight mode. I’m tired of it, but I don’t know how to get out of it either.”

Once upon a tinder

Once upon a tinder

Confession: I am 100% addicted to tinder. I have absolutely no desire to meet most of the people I see on it, but I’m a people watcher, and tinder is kind of people watching at its best, because tinder voyeurism means you get just a little snippet without actually having to be around people. Most days the not being around people is the preferable part of it.

I love it when I find someone on tinder who’s profile makes me literally laugh out loud, like this one.

Me: Godless heathen. New in town. Irreverent humor. Real. Well educated. Kind. Prefer one on one to big groups. Athletic. Outdoorsy. If it’s broke, I can fix it… 6’4″

You: Down like a fat kid on a see saw with the above. Smart. Kind. Athletic. Real. Lower right quadrant of the hot crazy matrix. Rocks trail shoes or heels equally well.

It’s the “Lower right quadrant of the hot crazy matrix” part that got me. Well…that in addition to the “Down like a fat kid on a see saw” part. Either way it was funny as hell, because the hot crazy matrix itself is funny as hell, and if you’ve never seen it, you should take 7 minutes and watch it in the embedded link.

Now I think I’ll go update my own tinder to include “TBH, I’m just looking for someone to buy me a Bentley.” It’ll go nicely with the rest of the sarcasm on my bio. Besides…if the “hot” part of the hot crazy matrix was optional, I’d fall in to the unicorn zone, and unicorns should have Bentleys…