Despite what everyone says about it (that it’s purely a hookup website), I tried Tinder for a while.  At first I thought it was pretty great. What I loved about the app is that people are only matched with those they are mutually attracted to. I was matched with many successful and attractive men. On paper, these men appear like amazing catches. The downside? For some reason Tinder seems to be a place where men  and women throw respect out the window. It is absolutely bizarre, and quite disturbing. Women are not even treated human beings, they are just sort of like animal flesh. It’s so ugly. I deleted my account today because I could feel myself starting to hate men. I don’t want to be like that. I know good men exist … just maybe not on Tinder.

Offenses range from the mild to the extreme, as I shall demonstrate here. Let’s start with an extreme case, shall we?? Unfortunately I don’t have full screenshots to prove this one, you will have to trust me. I wouldn’t make this stuff up. I present exhibit A(nthony).

Anthony.jpgHe then went on to ask me if I ever had sex with a family member. I shit you not. He revealed what I guess was supposed to be an absolutely scintilating morsel, but I think I vomited in my mouth a bit: apparently when he was younger (I don’t know what age “younger” is), he would sneak into his mom’s room in the dark and have sex with her. This was my first, and hopefully last, encounter with a true “motherfucker.” I replied, “okay, I don’t think we are a match.” I just didn’t know what else to say. I was kind of stunned. At that point HE blocked ME, because you know, I’m a freaking weirdo. And then the text thread disappeared –otherwise you know how I love my screenshots. Tinder ladies. Run as fast as your legs will carry you. 

And speaking of legs, are yours sexy? You better hope so!  So what if you have only two IQ points? According to this guy’s profile, he is a palliative care doctor which makes him really sensitive to humanity and appreciative of life and shit. 

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So according to a guy friend, my response to him was too extreme. When I showed the exchange to Crazy Kay, she was more offended than I was.  What do you think? This is very typical of what you find on Tinder. I felt very much like a cow being inspected at a market for my fat to muscle ratio, not like a human being.  It upset me. 

Here’s another conversation about a guy going off on how women who expect men to pay for a date are like prostitutes…

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Alright Captain Caveman, you become a special little fucktard right here on my blog. How do you like that one? And lucky you, this one is on the house!

The final guy is a very basic schmuck, but my last straw. He is a  civil trial lawyer. First of all, I absolutely can’t stand it when some guy I never met in person starts a conversation with “Hi sexy” …. I quite literally cringe. You don’t fucking know me like that buddy! Is that how you speak to strange women at the grocery store? Because you know me little better. I wondered whether to respond, and decided I would. Maybe I’m just really uptight.  I thought, okay he made a mistake, give the guy a chance.  Here is how that went…

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Again, men always asking me for more pictures … irritating. How about you try to get to know me instead? I mean you can see he isn’t really making much of an effort to understand who I am as a person.IMG_9073.jpg

I tried to be cute, but the truth is I was really pissed off. I left it there. And then I ruminated… and then ruminated some more.  Over an hour had passed, and in that time  I really became angry, furious actually. Why was I doing this? And then came my little rant. So you understand, it isn’t about this one guy in particular, was a culmination of all the dirsrespect (of which this post is only a sampling).

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And with that thoughtfully crafted response, delivered about eight hours later, I felt no regrets whatsoever. Moral of the story: if you want to keep your faith in humanity, do not open the Pandora’s box known as Tinder. Satan will find you there!!!!!

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Dating is so crap sometimes. Before it even gets to arranging to meet someone, you have to chat. And I’ve chatted with so many douchebags, that I literally have the urge to sew up my vagina sometimes. My list of deleted numbers resembles something of a telephone directory. So many men give so little and expect so much. Plus they have the attention span of a handful of peanuts. One day they are texting you sweet and silly words, the next day they have forgotten you exist. I KNOW I deserve more than that shit. And there is no fucking way I’m going to accept it. I’d definitely rather be alone … except I don’t reaaaaaly want to be alone. I want to share my life with someone wonderful and worthy. Sometimes I get so disheartened. Is there a guy out there who is right for me? Am I just too strange? I know I’m kind of niche— I’m not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. I figure I’m more of a matcha latte. Honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love who I am and who I’m becoming. I’d just really like to “become” with an amazing man by my side.

There was this lawyer I went on a date with. He made a big freaking deal about me not being able to use chopsticks. A huge deal. I have only had sushi a few times in my life, so perhaps I do look kinda silly trying to utilize them, but why did he have such a strong desire to try to embarrass me? What ever happened to being a gentleman? Do you know why I don’t eat sushi much? I DONT LIKE IT. I put my likes aside to spend time with someone, and enjoy something THEY like, and I am rewarded with ridicule. Not friendly ridicule, but a purposely nasty kind of disdain. Nice, huh? Total troglodyte!

Here is a snippet of conversation I had with with another fucktard. Clearly he had only one intention in mind in trying to meet me:

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These are not uneducated men: a doctor and a lawyer. What they have in common is a lack of empathy, and an extreme sense of entitlement. Chivalry isn’t dead, it’s more likely to have been murdered and then drowned in its own tears. Common decency and respect is just sooooo over and outdated.

Tonight I’m having my second date with a man I shall call Derwood. Derwood is hot! He has the sexiest arms ever. Ever. He is quite charming in a strange sort of way, and I am wickedly attracted to him … but … well, he seems a tad dumb, if I’m honest, juvenile. Plus, like most men, his interest in me seems mostly sexual. I want to be with a man who seems to really want to get to know me, a man I can respect and look up to. I had so much fun making out with Derwood in his car at the end of date number one, that I made an exception, however. I ended up breaking my no kissing on a first date rule for him. So despite acknowledging that this probably has no potential, I am really looking  forward to seeing him tonight … but then I found out the movie he chose for us to watch is practically a kids movie *sigh.* No, I’m pretty sure Derwood is not “the one.”

And this is the general trend in my love life, my dear readers. I do believe the man I’m looking for is out there somewhere. I wish he would stop hiding. I’ve kissed enough frogs. I want something good and real… and soon!

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Hello dollies!

It’s been a while since I last wrote anything, almost a month. I always write to you on my sister’s computer, but it was having technical difficulties which are now resolved. I am happy to say that all is well.

Let me start with a short recap. I didn’t get that promotion I applied for, but I am totally ok with that. I don’t think the position was actually suited to me. Still I put myself out there, and as a result, I was gifted with a new direction. You see, I was kind of a aimless as far as what I wanted my career path to be within my company, but as a result of the failed interview, I had a fantastic conversation with one of the bosses which really  helped me to figure out a route that I know would really be suited to me. I am very pleased I didn’t get the job, because now that I know the job I want, I don’t really want anything else.

All is well with Birdy and I. We had a couple of delicious trips to The Standard Spa, a few slumber parties, and in a most unladylike fashion, Moi invited herself over for Thanksgiving dinner. No regrets, I’d do it again. It was a lovely evening and I had a wonderful time. Birdy’s family are so welcoming to me, and that feeling of being included is one that I have always craved. I have been making the drive to Birdy’s place and getting more and more comfortable with driving on the highway. I am very proud of myself.

Work has been fun. Well, not work per say, but the work environment. My company goes all out for the holidays. We had the most fantastic pot luck. The manager of our district even cooked us turkeys! How cool is that? Then, yesterday, two of my co workers and I hung out after work and went to one of my favourite restaurants. I over ate … a lot … but whatevs. I know it may sound a bit strange, but I’ve never hung out with a co-worker outside of work before.  Once upon a time I was an isolated housewife who spoke to barely anyone. Now I actually have friends — they aren’t even imaginary! It is a novelty that I am still getting used to.

With Thanksgiving, the pot luck, going out to eat, and all the holiday fun, my diet has kind of gone to shit. Before all this started I reached just under 118 pounds. It was a f’ing pre-Christmas miracle. I dare not weight myself now. I am confident I’ll get myself back in gear. I have to. I just bought this beautiful dress I’ve been lusting after for about 6 months in the Black Friday sales online, and I am determined to look as ultra fab in it as I do in my imagination!

I am happy my loves. When was the last time I wrote that? I have everything I need and everything I want, and I am grateful beyond measure. Of course, we can always gild the lily a bit, no? I will just preface my list by admitting that the things I want most can’t be bought. They will require lots of good energy and patience. The other things, just cherries on the cake. If end up with none, I would not be even the tiniest bit sad. If I had a tree, these are the things I should like to be under it.

Birdy with a big red bow on him. I don’t know if he has the patience to crouch under a tree all night so he can surprise me for when I wake, but I can dream, no? Maybe he can even pop out of a cake or something. I think I’d like that very much.

A fabulous Norma Kamali bathing suit for when I luxuriate at The Standard. I love the retro glamour of it. It is just so Old  Hollywood.
Note: the ribbon on Birdy should match the color of my swimsuit.

Bill Mio swimsuit by Norma Kamali

The Curator Collection mascara set by Hourglass. I tried it NYC. Fantastic.

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A MacBook Pro. I’ve not owned a computer since moving back to the US, I think I’d quite like one. One with a big ass screen to match my expanding thighs. It’s all about balance dollies!

A fabulous getaway to somewhere I’ve never been. The ticket should come in a gold envelope methinks. Perhaps it can be tucked into an uber designer carry on.

OMG, am I not so good at making up presents?! We haven’t even scratched the surface. You see, just when you think you’ve witnessed the bottom of my batshit crazy… BOOM! There’s the bat shit crazy underground garage! And the garage has levels dontcha know?!

So tell me my dears, what is on your list? I know you have one, even if it’s not written down. Have you treated yourself to anything special?

Orange is the New Black is my favorite thing on TV these days. I just binge watched all of Season 4 in two days. I paced myself LOL. In the past I wrote about the character of Lorna, but she is less likable these days. Her particular brand of crazy went from charming to somewhat batshit in the newest season. My new OITNB girl crush is Blanca Flores. Why? Let me count the ways…

  1. She bares an uncanny resemblance to my favorite woman of all time: Frida Kahlo. Damn, I love a girl who rocks a unibrow! It almost makes me want to grow mine out. Almost.image1
  2. The woman is fearless. There is a point in Season 4 where one of the guards, in a nasty power trip, tries to  make an example of Flores by making her stand on top of the table in the cafeteria as a form of torture (this is actually much worse than it sounds, in real life, they do this to prisoners of war). Flores takes it up like a challenge rather than a punishment. She stands on that table for days! She even pees herself on the table, and she does it with a certain sort of je ne sais quoi that will make you smirk mirthlessly. Nobody else could have pulled it off like that. She was something of a Joan of Ark. Instead of becoming humbled and ridiculed, the fact that she never wavered, actually gave her a sort of grandeur that the guard could not have anticipated. Eventually she is forced off the table when the prison goes into lockdown due to an incident, but it was never because she gave up.
  3.  She doesn’t care about what anyone thinks of her. tumblr_mr5uoh9dZo1s46h7vo1_500The guards in the facility are constantly patting the women down in a very inappropriate way. Flores comes up with the idea of perfuming herself with the juice from oyster and sardine cans so that she smells positively rancid. With her matted hair and her “Eau de Mer” the guards are completely repulsed by getting too close to her. Even her friends can’t stand it, but Flores doesn’t care. She is more interested in not being groped. Fish over fucktards LOL. The woman has standards.

Other assorted stuff I want to talk about:

Well, let’s see, my birthday is in a couple of days. I have no real plans except going to Ruby Tuesdays with my grandmother on Saturday. I’m totally okay with that. My family isn’t big on birthdays. We usually just use it as an excuse to eat a lot.

And… hmmm… how do I say this…

Remember my Birthday Challenge? That thing where I wasn’t supposed to talk to any guys for 40 days? It kind of got fucked up on day 30. I will get into that more in depth in another post. To make a long story short though, I am seeing Birdy again. I am approaching it with a different mindset this time. I have the best time when we are together. I am just going to focus on that and release any expectations. I just want to focus on one thing: fun. And OMG, last night I had tons of fun.

It was totally gay. Gay with a bit of grilled cheese. It was …

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WTF?!? Okay, so we went to this gay pride thing at a place called Wilton Manors. That was a first for me. Another first? I had my first visit to a gay club. It was called The Manor. Another first? I saw a lewd sex act. OMG, for real I swear I did. Plus there were drag queens, and flashing lights and it was like the most fun I had in ages. And I danced… sort of. I don’t know how to dance. Let’s define it as “interpretive dance” that way at least I get to sound somewhat arty. I am sure I looked like the biggest dork ever, but it was so much fun and if I could, I’d go back tonight.

Afterwards we had grilled cheese sandwiches at New York Grilled Cheese. They take forever to serve you, but I didn’t mind. It was worth it. It was so gooooood. Plus I got to ogle Birdy a bit, and that’s always fun. I love looking at him: total man candy.

The meat packing district sandwich at New York Grilled Cheese.
Grilled cheese with brisket, doesn’t that look divine?

It was a night I’m going to remember forever.

Oh, and an update on my friend T: since I last wrote about her, I spoke to her on two occasions. One time she sounded kind of good and upbeat, the second time she didn’t. I am just happy when I get to hear her voice. Although I don’t always know what the right thing to say is, I am happy just to listen.

My new job starts next Monday. I am both nervous and excited, as to be expected I suppose.

I’m about to press “publish.” It has come to my attention that this may be the most disjointed post I ever wrote. I’m quite the nut job methinks, but today I am a happy one.

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Despite it all, I am okay.

It’s now been a week into my Birthday Challenge. It’s been okay, I only had one really horrible day. I was focusing too hard on the loss of Birdy, the loveliest man to cross my path in two years, and I made myself terribly sad. I have no regrets though. I did the right thing. He just wasn’t that into me. Other than that, avoiding men hasn’t been as difficult as I expected. I noticed I am having much less less severe ups and downs. That’s a good thing for now. Sometimes I feel a bit lonely and have the urge to call someone. The fact that nobody has bothered with me though, is quite telling. I’ve been spending a lot of time in my own head. I’ve been a bit more creative, and I’m eating better too. That’s not going to last though. Friday I will be on my way to New Orleans. The second my porcine hoof hits the pavement, I will be eating for two: me and my inner bitch. Believe me when I tell you that that woman is hungry!

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When you see me going to town on those delicious beignets, do not assume those mounds of powder to be sugar. My daddy says I’m sweet enough already… Note to self: Investigate which is cheaper–crack or therapy.

I’m feeling kind of awful about not finding a job yet. It’s been three months now. My unemployment is going to run out soon. Although I’m not in any real financial danger, I’m scared. Not having a job makes me feel very unsettled. I know freaking out totally isn’t going to speed up the process. It will just create wrinkles and my Botox has run its course, so I got to watch it. I am doing my best to take it in stride and have faith that everything is going to work out the way it’s supposed to. Still, it is always looming in the back of my mind.

If my horror-scope is true, things are going to stay stagnant in my life until the end of next month. Around the time of my birthday, I can expect movement. Do you believe in horoscopes/astrology? I used to think they were a bunch of crap, but I’m not so sure anymore. On YouTube, I was told that this is a time for endings (even though they may be painful) so that new things could begin. Yeah… too much time on my hands.

Seriously, I am falling in love with YouTube. There is so much good stuff on there. I’ve been learning loads of unnecessary (but fun) things. I try to listen to stuff that’s uplifting and motivational. I want to immerse myself in good thoughts, otherwise it is my natural tendency to go the other way. I want to create new and positive habits, and developing a positive mindset is crucial for me.

Okay so none of what I wrote today is terribly momentous or relevant. I just wanted to “talk.” You guys are terribly lovely for humoring me. I adore you.

p.s. Stay tuned to my Instagram so you can see all my New Orleans photos!

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I want to start by telling you about two old ladies. The first lady is called Emma Morano. She is a 116 year old woman living in Italy. When asked for the secret to her longevity, she credits two factors: eating raw eggs every day (yuck) and being single. Then there’s 109 year old Jessie Gallan from Scotland. She attributed her long life to porridge, exercise, and never marrying. Notice a common denominator? Does eliminating men from your life create a sense of well being?

I hate being single. Most of my life has been spent in a relationship. It’s what I know and what I’m comfortable with. Being alone totally sucks for me. I try to make the best of it, and sometimes I succeed in having an awesome adventure or a rush of happiness all on my own, but for the most part, I hate it.  I never really took a break from men. Right after Dr ManWhore and I separated, I started with dating websites. Can you believe it only took two weeks? Why so fast? When Dr ManWhore explained why he didn’t want to be with me anymore, one of the reasons was that he was not attracted to me. This devastated me. It really crushed me.

I was desperate for a man to tell me I was pretty, so I joined a dating website. I didn’t actually intend to meet anyone, I just wanted validation that I was attractive. Of course, curiosity got the better of me, and I started making dates. Meeting men was fun. I felt desired. I got taken to restaurants and told lovely things. It was pretty great. I was able to use men as a distraction from the pain I was feeling. And actually, it worked. The thing is, I never was able to parlay any of this into a healthy and long lasting relationship (no surprise I guess). That killed me.

It’s like I have some kind of weird love addiction. I don’t know what the word for this is.  It is just a constant need for validation and “protection” by the opposite sex. I don’t feel good about myself unless some guy is giving me attention (this has nothing to do with sex by the way, it’s all about attention and receiving affection). I have never admitted this before, so writing about it is kind of a big thing for me.

After I ended things with Birdy, I decided that this has to stop. I set myself a “birthday challenge” Until my birthday, I am taking a break from the opposite sex. Mind you, my birthday  is only like 40 days away–but still, this will be the longest I’ve been without looking for a man since I was 17! What, I wonder, will it feel like to not get ANY validation from the opposite sex? So far, it’s only been a few days. I am trying to distract myself by listening to motivational stuff on YouTube and job hunting. I also have New Orleans coming up. I am trying to keep my mind engaged as best I can, which is hard because I have loads of time on my hands at the moment. If I could just get a job, well, that would be great. That would take up a ton of my time and energy.

It’s highly likely that I will extend this break to continue after my birthday. I just didn’t want to commit myself to more than I could handle. I want see where this goes. What happens when there is no guy around to tell me the lovely stuff I want (and need?) to hear? What happens when it’s just me?

Fun fact:  The oldest person who ever lived was a woman called Jeanne Calment from France, who lived to be 122. According to Wikipedia, her secret was “a diet rich in olive oil  … (as well as) one  kilogram (2.2 pounds) of chocolate every week.” I guess if the man diet doesn’t work, I can always try eating more chocolate.

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What an awful day. I was offered a job today. Great, right? No. I was offered a job, BUT it was waaaay less than I was expecting, and so I declined. I think they undervalued me terribly, and really, I guess the thing is that I felt insulted. They acted like I was absolutely foolish to turn it down and think that I could possibly do any better. That insulted me even more. I am so sick of people treating me like shit. My ex husband, my bosses (and potential bosses), and then there’s the guys I meet. I have constantly lowered my standards and my humility in order to accommodate … and I AM GETTING SO FUCKING SICK OF IT.

I have two wishes for myself. The first is that I attain self sufficiency. I want to be able to buy and maintain my own place. A small place, that I can call my own. Something that nobody will be able to take from me. I have no desire to be rich or climb some silly corporate ladder. I’m not competitive, and I don’t desire to become the president of a Fortune 500 company. I would just like to earn enough money to maintain a small place, be able to eat fresh good food, have bubble baths (cheap), read great books (free with a library card), and travel once in a while (my only real splurge). I don’t need much, but I do need “enough.” In my mind, I have come up with a figure that would allow me to achieve that, and that is the salary I am currently asking for. It is nothing absurd, I assure you. It would only allow for a very modest lifestyle. This salary that I was offered today was not a living wage. It shouldn’t offend me the way it does. Of course a company wants to get employees for as cheap as they can in order to increase their own profit margins. I know that, but I’m offended anyway. It feels like a slap in the face. It feels like they are saying, “You don’t deserve a decent life. You deserve to be someone’s roommate and eat toast for dinner.”  I cried… and then I got angry. Very fucking angry. And then my nose started to bleed LOL. You guys, I think I’m starting to loose my shit.

The second thing I want? Well, stupid me, always the romantic, I want love. Even now my eyes are welling up, because I know I have to reconcile with the idea that that just may not be a possibility for me anymore. That kills me. In March, three years have passed since I found out my marriage was a sham. In that time, I did fall in love once, but to make a long story short, he, like my prospective employer, didn’t think I was worth it.

I have endured so much sadness for so long. Now I am just angry.  I wonder who wants to be the next contestant on “Crapping on Caroline”… step right up, because I’m about to rip someone a new A- Hole! Has bitterness finally taken over me, or am I just having a really bad day? Am I ever going to be able to take care of myself? Will I ever have someone look at me with love and see me as worthy? I don’t know. Fuck them all. They are all overvalued anyway. Big mouths and little penises. Fuck men. Fuck bosses. Fuck work. Fuck being unemployed.

On the bright side, my lovelies, I am not addicted to crack … well, not yet.

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So unemployment is getting kinda boring. Don’t get me wrong, I have some amazing days browsing the shops, immersing myself in a good book, and hanging out with Birdy when he is free; but I also have days where I feel like the grey matter that is my brain is going to slowly leak out through my nostrils in a most unbecoming manner. Having time to pursue the finer things is awesome, but having to much time is not so good. I find myself obsessing over some really dumb sh*t.

I’ve had a few interviews that I felt went really well, but nothing yet. I know I need to be patient (not a strong point of mine) and positive, but sometimes it is disheartening. I need to go back to work. I need structure, I need to feel more in control of my life, and I need to feel the independence making my own money gives me. In the meantime, I also want to maximize the joys of unemployment LOL. So today I though’t I’d tell you about the Italian concept of “Dolce Far Niente”, where lying around and just being fabulous is taken to an art form. I think there is something to be said for it. Dolce Far Niente can be translated into “sweets doing nothing,” and believe it or not, is quite a popular theme in art. Don’t believe me? Let me show you:

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This one, by one of my favorite artists, John William Waterhouse, bares a remarkable resemblance to yours truly.

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The famous Flaming June by Frederic Leighton.

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I’m sure you will recognize this one, La Grande Odalisque, by Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres. This one couldn’t even be bothered to get dressed. Putting on the head piece was just too much.

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I’m not 100% sure, but I think this beauty is a Klimt.

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As you can see, this is not just a passing fancy of the old masters. Here is an example from 2008 by Michael Klein.
So do you believe me now? Let’s take this idea and run with it, shall we? Being a sweet doing nothing is obviously an artistic pursuit, and it is one that I think deserves a little exploration LOL. It’s not actually just about sleeping in glamorous settings, its about savoring the mundane and making it beautiful. It’s about enjoying a little nap in the middle of the day, indulging in an ice cream without worrying about your thighs, and generally just taking life at a slow and luxurious pace. And when you do it, you must do it in a way which is completely unapologetic. Make it your art!

How? Let me give you some ideas, as I am kind of an expert:

  • Savor an expensive box of chocolates that you were saving for a special occasion when you are all alone (sharing isn’t allowed).  Eat it slowly, enjoying every delicious morsel.
  • Take a luxurious bubble bath. Lock the door. Disconnect your phone.
  • Call in sick from work — that’s what sick days are really for, and spend the day doing something you love. Maybe have a spa day!
  • Read something with absolutely no literary merit like a trashy romance novel.
  • Admire yourself in the mirror.

Come on my lovelies, I know you can do it. Make your life your art! 

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No cake in my house shall ever go to waste, so long as I have breath in my body.

Sometimes I worry like I’m going to end up like Miss Havisham. Do you remember her? She a pivotal character in Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations. An eccentric to say the least. Well in case you haven’t read the book, as a young woman, she fell in love with a man, and was left at the altar on her wedding day. On that fateful moment, she stops all the clocks in her sprawling mansion, and her heart turns to stone. It becomes the defining moment of her life, and she never recovers from the trauma. Filled with rage, sadness, shock, and embarrassment, she becomes a mad and bitter recluse. The towering wedding cake is left to decompose in it’s gigantic rotting splendor, and till the day she dies,  Miss Havisham never takes off her yellowing wedding dress or removes the dead bridal flowers that decorate her hair. In that fateful moment, she begins her descent into deeply broken, possibly insane woman, overcome with bitterness.

I have moments where I think I’m becoming her. Why?

For starters, I am most definitely becoming an eccentric (though I have to say, I like it).

I was also once asked for my hand in marriage only to be dismissed and forgotten. It hurt like hell.

Sometimes I feel this bitterness growing inside of me. I have moments when I feel so angry.  I try to ignore it, but there are days when I can feel that seed growing. That seed is comprised of hurt and fear. I see so many women in my situation who have really become sour. I desperately do not want to become that sort of person … but oh how easy it is for that brave face to slip on a bad day.

Happily, with the passing of time, I realize that Miss H and I are not the same at all. I am becoming stronger. I’m growing into the woman I’m supposed to be. That makes me feel proud. No, I won’t become the next Miss Havisham. Why?

Well let’s get one thing straight, there would NEVER be a rotting wedding cake in my house. I’d surely have eaten the whole thing all by myself… just for spite (and tastiness). As I wouldn’t be getting married, it’s totally okay if I got fat. Besides, I love cake. I’m pretty sure my cake would be custom made mille crepes monolith from Lady M in NYC. Have you ever tasted it? Deviiiiiiine. Surely I couldn’t let all that deliciousness go to waste. Those cakes are f’ing expensive! Heartbroken? Yes. Crazy enough not to eat yummy overpriced cake? Hell no, that’s what I live for dont’cha know! That’s why God invented elasticated sweat pants.

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Who needs a thigh gap when you can have this?

I wouldn’t wear my wedding gown forever. I have to admit, when I first got dumped, I wouldn’t change my clothes for days and days. Maybe I shouldn’t admit this, but I am not a pretty crier. No sweet little tears. No indeed. Truth be told there there was plenty of snot too. It would get all over my clothes. I wore it like a kind of badge of honor. But eventually, it had to be changed. I couldn’t stand my own self after a while. I was getting kinda crusty.

Another difference is that I don’t actually WANT to wallow in my misery and aloneness.  Miss Havisham made it her art form and her life’s work. I force myself to meet new people and to do things that enrich me. There are times when that it is a real effort. They say that “happiness is a choice.” From the bottom of my heart, I want to experience what it feels like to be truly happy. I am working on it, but it surprisingly hard to do despite how simple it sounds. It involves changing the way you think. It is about being vigilant with yourself when you know you are slipping.  I am a work in progress.

I could never stay home all day. My little excursions are what I live for. I love going on trips to the museum, trying a cool new restaurant, or a new experience. I’ve had a lot of new experiences lately (but a lady never tells LOL). Well sometimes she does, but maybe I’ll save that for another post.

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Speaking of fun excursions, I am soooo super excited about an upcoming adventure with a very dear friend. Moi is going to New Orleans!!! I’m going to teach the locals how to  inhale beignets like a boss. Watch this space. Shenanigans are a’comming! Feelings… pah. Time to brush that shit off, walk outside, and live.

 

One thing I never wanted to be is a woman on her own with a cat: aka a “cat lady.” I positively loathe the idea. Cats just don’t do it for me. In fact, I don’t think I’m an animal person at all. That poses a little problem, because I really wanted to have a spirit animal LOL … don’t ask me where these ideas come from.

So what exactly is a spirit animal? According to urbandictionary.com, its supposed to be a “representation of your traits and skills that your are supposed to learn or have” (in animal form).

Cats, they certainly exhibit a particular beauty and mystery. They appear to have a certain sort of wisdom in their feline eyes – but despite that, I’ve never been able to really like them. I daresay (sorry cat lovelies) that their is something about them that I actually find somewhat off-putting. Now, before anyone gets too offended, I should say that if we were to go through the entire litany of Noah’s Ark, I don’t think there would be any one creature in the that represents who I am and who I want to be. Therefore, I nominate Cartman from South Park as my spirit animal.

I shall present my case:

“Screw you guys, I’m going home.”

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Cartman is smart enough when to cut his losses. When his devious motives don’t go according to plan, he curses his playmates and leaves the room. What better lesson could I possibly learn? Learning to leave when love is no longer being served is something I have really struggled with. Leaving with your head held high and your middle finger in the air– that’s the way to do it. Cartman is one classy dude, he leaves with a bit of style, and I admire that!

“Respect my authoritah!”

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Wether or not he deserves it, Cartman demands respect and will not tolerate anything else. I can not be beign to count how many times I have let others steamroller over me and put myself in inferior positions for one reason or another. Maybe I didn’t want to hurt someone’s feelings, maybe I just didn’t want to argue, or maybe it was a lack of confidence. It’s great to admit when you are wrong, but a person should have the courage of their own convictions to demand to be respected for their beliefs.

“What-eva! I’ll do what I want.”

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Another cool thing I admire about Cartman is that he doesn’t second guess himself. He does what he wants and doesn’t feel he needs to seek the approval of others. Yeah, I got to learn how to do that. I feel like I’m too old to worry about what other people think of me. Being a people pleaser all the time can really, as Cartman says, “suck ass.”

Telling it like it is

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OMG, this is like my favorite Cartman quote eva LOL! This one kind of speaks for itself. There is a saying, “speak the truth, even if your voice shakes.” Cartman does that in spades. I gotta say, the tears add that subtle special something. How can you not love this guy. He says it like it is. He says it without apology. He says it with a soupçon of drama. Yeah, he is the man!

But, my favorite thing about Cartman…

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He doesn’t take anyone’s shit. In my all time favorite episode of South Park, “Scott Tenorman Must Die,” Cartman exacts a revenge with such perfect execution of evil genius, I could have wept with glee. When Scott tries to pull one over on Cartman, Cartman devises a highly devious plan of revenge that ends with Scott crying some very rewarding “tears of unfathomable sadness.” Showing someone that you will not lie down when they are trying to take advantage of you can be f*cking sweet and highly empowering!

Perhaps, now that you know my choice for spirit animal, you might be thinking that Caroline is not the best role model out there LOL, but what-eva, I do what I want ;).

Have a great weekend my lovelies *smoochies*