Singledom

“You’re single, huh? So, what’s wrong with you?”

The next person that asks me that is going to get a look of sheer disgust before I turn and walk away. Really, how rude is that question?

In case you’re wondering the same thing, here’s the answer…I’m waiting for the right person and I don’t plan on settling. Happy now?

Does that mean I’m waiting for Prince Charming? Nope. He doesn’t exist. Disney can go to hell for perpetuating that bit of fraudulent thinking.

Does it mean I’m waiting for the the “perfect” person or the “perfect” relationship. Nope. No one is perfect. NO. ONE. And no relationship is perfect – they all take time, energy, and effort.

What it means is that I’m trying to take an adult approach to picking the person I want to spend the rest of my life with and parent with. THE REST OF MY LIFE, people. And PARENTING, people. That’s big s**t.

I wrote about using your whole brain when it comes to picking a partner a while back and I still stand by that. Therefore, I’ve passed over several prospects since writing that post. They weren’t the right people for many reasons.

And then I read this article recently and was reminded why going through all of this is important. And I felt encouraged because I’m mid-way up that staircase, folks. And I do know what I want, which is something even married people may not know. And I don’t care if you think I’m overly rational about this, or too concerned about this, or a weirdo.

As for this segment:

In our world, the major rule is to get married before you’re too old — and “too old” varies from 25-35, depending on where you live. The rule should be “whatever you do, don’t marry the wrong person,” but society frowns much more upon a 37-year-old single person than it does an unhappily married 37-year-old with two children. It makes no sense — the former is one step away from a happy marriage, while the latter must either settle for permanent unhappiness or endure a messy divorce just to catch up to where the single person is.

I’ll take 37 and single over an unhappy marriage any day of the week. And instead of feeling sorry for me and wondering what’s wrong with me, I wish you’d see me as a self-aware bad ass who’s going about all this in a thoughtful manner because that’s what something as huge and profound as marriage and parenting deserves.

And there’s my rant. And yes, I did start a lot of sentences with and just now. Shove it.

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Confession Thursday

  1. Confession I’ve been dealing with a lot of immature, inconsiderate crap from adults lately and it’s wearing me out. One hopes that people become more emotionally intelligent as they age, but it’s, oddly, not a given.
  2. I stayed with my parent’s for two weeks after I broke my wrist. I figured there would come a point when I would lose my mind. I mean, we all love our families, right? But two weeks is a long time! Instead, I enjoyed it. I credit Spark, which puts me in such a great mood, and perspective. I mean, why not relish in time spent with your loved ones instead of bucking against it? Time is precious.
  3. I’d give a lesser digit to be able to transport myself to my favorite hot springs when ever I wanted to soak, which is pretty much daily. Come on, someone, figure out teleportation already!
  4. Regarding number three, there will come a day when I have a vacation home near my favorite hot springs. Mark my words, people.
  5. Lately all I’ve wanted to do is stay in my pajamas. It’s not a laziness thing, it’s a comfort thing.

F%^&*@ hard boiled eggs!

I’ve mentioned a few times that I suck at peeling hard boiled eggs. For my most recent batch, I tried several suggestions I was given. I used older eggs, added vinegar to the water, and peeled them under running water. NONE of that helped. It’s a personal problem, obviously. Apparently I’m a moron when it comes to peeling eggs. I guess it could be worse.

There I am peeling eggs this morning and it’s not going well. At one point I peeled an egg in half, plopping the yoke into the sink. Blerg. When I was done, I grabbed my sink sprayer to spray egg shells into a pile to throw in the trash. As I lifted it up I sprayed myself full force in the face. We’re talking a lot of water here, people.

So, there I stand, water dripping down my face and all over the front of me. I rushed into my bathroom for a towel to realize that my hair and makeup were now a mess – bangs soaked, mascara running down my face. And I was pissed. Until I started laughing. Because if I were witnessing this, I would have laughed my butt off. Seriously, in times like this I wish I lived with someone else just so they could benefit from my ridiculousness.

I pulled out the hair dryer and makeup for the second time to fix the water damage. Thankfully I wasn’t dressed yet, as it was one of those mornings where I stand in front of my closet thinking, “I wonder if my coworkers will notice if I wear yoga pants and a sweatshirt today?”

I think I need to be done with hard boiled eggs. It’s just not working out for me.

Confession Thursday

  1. Confession I spent over 24 hours with my nephew this week. He’s at that age where he says, “Huh?” or, “What?” after everything you’ve said regardless of if he heard you or not. For the first time in a long time, he was driving me a bit batty.
  2. I can’t figure out how to flex my left calf. Why am I trying to do that? Just cuz. I know there’s muscle there, but I can’t seem to activate it.
  3. I know I’ve said it before, but I AM SO TIRED OF DRIVING A STICK! After spending over two hours in construction traffic on a vacation day, I’m definitely over it.
  4. When I got my new phone, I had to manually move all of my contacts over from my old phone. (Don’t even comment, people. I could NOT port them or swap sim cards. Manual was the only way.) The good part was it gave me an opportunity to clear a bunch of people out who’ve needed to go for a LONG time! Oh, and there was a run on Jen/Jenny/Jennifers and Matts back in the day! Sheesh.
  5. Sometimes I have this crazy urge to bite or trip people. It comes out of nowhere and for absolutely no reason. I never follow-through, of course. I’m not a psycho.

Confession Thursday

  1. Confession I’ve never eaten a Ruben sandwich. I told a friend this the other day and she looked at me like I had two heads.
  2. The next person who reminds me that my age is a factor in this whole kid thing had better make their comment and then duck, or cover their groan, or turn and run. Just a fair warning.
  3. Last summer I fell in love with a restaurant close to my house called Richard’s on 3rd. The food and margaritas are decent, but what makes this place great is its beautiful patio. It’s such a great place to spend a summer evening. Sadly, I went there this week and I will never go again. There are too many great restaurants deserving of people’s hard earned money. The service was terrible – rude, snappish, slow, and Richard proved himself to be controlling and unaccommodating. For the first time in MY LIFE, I didn’t leave a tip. I felt bad not leaving one, but also felt like leaving one would be a sign that I’ll put up with that kind of blisteringly bad service. You gotta take a stand sometimes.
  4. I just booked time for my sister and I to head to our favorite hot springs this fall. I’m so terribly excited that I might pop.
  5. My mom recently told me that my older brother and his old roommate coined this recipe from my her “Get Laid Steak.” Essentially, if they were getting close to sealing the deal with a girl, they’d serve this for the win. Um, I’ve totally done the same thing. Not with a girl, of course, but you know what I mean.
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