...and now we wait...

Last 5pm Friday was the deadline for my grad school application, so naturally I waited until the day before to give the requirements a looky pooh to see what I needed to do.  There were your standard letters of recommendation, transcripts, resume, etc.  The biggest beast of them all was the admission essay (i.e. tell us why you think you are worthy to come to our amazing school).  Let me remind all of you that it has been many moons since I have sat down to write anything longer then these blog posts, let alone something that will be critiqued and analyzed and dare I say it....judged.  Gulp.  Just the act of opening Word to create this monster of an essay got my pulse raising.  I had to fill 5 pages with glowing, flowing, witty, and informative answers that gave the reader an insight into "who I am".  Excuse me whilst I barf.  I had to skate the fine line between selling myself and sounding like a pretentious bitch.  Let me tell you, that line is thin my friends, very thin.  So essay is typed (it is relatively smart and "grad-school-y") I rushed my application packed to the main office.  Nothing like sliding it under the door at 4:30pm.  Way to keep them on their toes eh!!?  So now with my application in their hot little hands we sit and we wait.  And we wait.  Nothing like waiting to make you sweat.  Eeeeew sweat.

too much fun=no writing

Ok so it has been forever and a day since I have written, and I deeply apologize but I have been having way too much fun.  My weeks have been packed with lots of super duper things and for some reason that translates into me not writing.  I don't know why, but I seem to be more inspired when I am mad or frustrated.  Hmmmmmm.  The biggest thing happening this week is me applying for grad school.  Yipes to the max people.  Once I apply (deadline is June 8th and we all know how this crazy cat lady loves to procrastinate) I will feel a lot better about consuming as much booze as I have been consuming recently.  Mmmmmm booze.  So for the meantime, because I have no idea what to write about and I am trying to save all of my wits for having to write my "I am so amazing and here is why:______ so please accept me into your school" essay I shall post my new song I am obsessed with.  Enjoy. 

Kitty kisses and loves :)

this is getting out of hand...

I have serious writers block this morning...I think I need coffee.  It's cold and foggy and cuddling up with a warm cup of joe sounds delicious.  Cuddling up with a handsome man named Joe sounds delicious too...but alas. 

Here is another example of an attempt at communication with a fellow from Match.  Grab your coffee, read, and enjoy my misery.




So I have live up here 7 years

So do you have fun weekend plans ?

What you think if we talke or tex ?

Dan , your cute two !!


I think I am going to move to the moon.  They have coffee there right?

...for example...

Text from one of my Match suitors last night:

"Why u so busy lol  were about to eat ...bbq pulled tri tip sammiches"

                                                                                                               (no response from me)

"It was yummy!"

                                                                                                                 "Nice."

"U should cook dinner for me :P"




                                                                                                             (no response from me)



I rest my case.

Waging a war on LOL

Mistakes in grammar and spelling have always been a pet peeve of mine. I am not the smartest person in the world, I make mistakes all day long, but some things like simple spelling and grammar are inexcusable when you reach a certain age. While there are about a billion examples of this I have decided to wage a war on the term "lol". I.effing.hate.lol. I hate it whenever it is used. Back in my golden days of college when the Internet felt like it was just being invented and I spent every waking minute on instant messenger the shorthand terms: lol and lmao were born. At the time it was needed, as your fingers were flying across your keyboard writing an entire paragraph (single space, times new roman, for all of you college-going folk) in a matter of seconds. Now it has morphed from a simple, "I am laughing out loud at what you just said...er typed" to an "I have nothing else to say" or, "I am extremely awkward and think everything I say is funny or should be taken as a joke but only if it offends you". For the love of all that is holy and sacred in this world STOP USING LOL AT THE END OF EVERY SENTENCE!!! You might say "Wow easy with the anger, I never use lol or if I do I am literally laughing out loud and therefore (by my standards) actually type out "holy shit I am literally laughing out loud". I am not yelling at you my dearest of dears, I am using this blessed soap box to vent my anger and frustration at the goons I have interacted with in my recent return to online dating. I know you all were wondering when I was going to bring that up again. I returned a few weeks ago...I have been silent since...no new MP posts or anything....soooooo? I have not posted anything because I have hidden myself away in my darkest of closets with a pillow over my face to muffle my horrified screams. WHO THE HELL ARE THESE GUYS? Mowgli, the little boy who was raised by wolves (yes talking wolves and yes it was Disney, but just go with me on this one) had better grammar, spelling, and communication skills than most of the apes I have encountered on Match. Recently I was responding to an email and a little "advice" bubble popped up that suggested: when sending an email be sure to check your spelling and use correct grammar; this can make or break a connection with someone. Bless the elves at Match for putting that bubble there, but I feel they are not getting the message across LOUD.ENOUGH. I think it should be a huge banner, in size 40 font, across every screen you click on--email or not. Last night I got an email that had so many misspellings ("Ur'll" instead of "you'll", or be a big boy and just type it out: "you will"....ooooh now isn't that sexy?!) I could hardly read it, and 4...yes 4...lol's. There was nothing remotely funny about the email, I mean other then the fact that this 35 year-old man was trying to be smooth and was coming across about as smooth as sandpaper on a sunburn. Not one part of the email warranted a lol. **Please note my previous statement that we should stop using lol entirely, but being that this is a new war I am waging I understand if it takes some time to sink in** However when you are peppering your random, weird, void-of-puncutation sentence with lol's because you are horrible at communicating like an adult then you my friend are failing...miserably. I call to you my literate army of dedicated followers to aid me in this attack on ridiculous conversational fuck-ups and stop using lol. Tell your friends, tell your family, yell it to random strangers on the street as they hold their children and run. Stop using lol. You are not really laughing; you are making yourself look like you can't think of anything else to say. The conversation is over. Move on to a new topic...like finding me a new boyfriend...or boy toy. Get me out of this Match.com nightmare!


P.S.

Writing this made me frustrated, and being single makes me even more frustrated so I thought I would put a picture up (that I did not take--thank you Google images) of Christian Bale because he is an absolute dream boat.  Mmmmmmmmm.  Ok now I am happy again.

Kisses.

Where have all the manners gone?

There are some simple basic rules to live by as an adult, in fact I would not even call them rules, I would call them common sense standards.  It amazes me on a daily basis how many people lack these standards and manage still to exist while living in their deluded made up world of fantasy.  I often wonder: who raised these selfish, mindless fools?!  Then I have to remember that as much as we want to and tend to blame the parents, it is all too easy to open your eyes and your mind and learn things yourself.  I am astonished by the number of people that I know that are blindly selfish when it comes to attending get-togethers.  When you go to someones house be it for a casual event or a formal Christmas party, ALWAYS BRING SOMETHING.  You should never have to be asked to bring something, ever.  You should always offer, or bring it automatically.  I don't care if the Queen of England invited you over.  You know that bitch doesn't need wine--she's got servants to do that stuff for her--THAT-IS-NOT-THE-POINT.  The point is, my fair weathered friends, it is the gesture.  It is a showing of appreciation for this woman (sorry guys I am being gender bias for a minute) who probably slaved all effing day cleaning her house, running all over god's creation buying paper plates, cocktail napkins, utensils, and then had to run back out with curlers in her hair because she forgot ice (why do we always forget the effing ice???).  If she has "help" (i.e. husband and kids) their help was to stay the eff out of the way while she cleans, sets up, cooks, cleans again, shops, stocks, and prepares her house for this party that she swore was a good idea a few weeks ago but is cursing with every sweep of the mop.  If you happen to be one of those women, or know one, that has paid help and she hasn't lifted a finger to prepare for this party other then to send out invitations and spend all day in front of a glowing mirror while wearing feathered slippers, once again--THAT-IS-NOT-THE-POINT.  The point is that this savvy lady thought enough ahead to throw a party which will have booze and yummy food on a night when you otherwise would be sitting at home eating a microwave meal and watching reruns of The Golden Girls.  So get your ass to the store and blow the $7.99 on a bottle of wine as a thank you.  If you want to be even classier and guarantee an invite at every party this fancy pants lady throws, buy a bottle of wine for the party and a bottle of wine for the hostess!!
This brings me to my most serious point.  WHAT **rips hair out of head** WHAT in baby cheez-its name happened to the hostess gift?  Back in the day when avocado was the color of choice whilst picking out kitchen decor it was UNHEARD OF to attend a party and not bring a hostess gift.  Why you might ask should I bring a gift for a woman (again gender...sorry) who chose on her own free will to throw a party?  Answer: because it is the classy thing to do.  See above:  you did not have to clean your house, spend all day and an ungodly amount of money shopping for this party AND you will not have to clean up the party and the random items that have broken during this festive event (there is always one glass that bites the dust...sad).  People use to bring bottles of wine, liquor, nibbles, candles, all of which were NOT...I repeat...NOT expected to be consumed while the party was going on.  It was a gift...follow me here...for the hostess to enjoy on her own.  Most likely while rubbing her feet and sitting on her kitchen floor surrounded by a mess, but that is what you bought it for right?  Right. 

So to wrap up my angry sermon on the mound: if you are invited to something...anything...bring a bottle of wine or something to eat (or hell go crazy and do both).  Even if you are not asked, even if you are told not to, do it.  Who wouldn't want an extra bottle of wine in their house or some extra nibbles to munch on later?  It's the classy thing to do people.  Stay classy.

**I will climb off my soap box now.....where's the wine?**

back in the saddle again...

I have re-entered the dating world, and despite having mild success the last time with online dating I am quickly reminded why I hated it so much at first.  What I have discovered this time with match.com is that you can "find single people around you" meaning that if you find yourself in another town and you are a bored, horny, gross, and super creepy guy you can see single ladies on Match who are in your close proximity.  So not only do I have to wade through the usual unattractive guys, the guys who insult you in ever email (yes I got a new one of those), I now get the occasional "hey I am in town for the next 24 hours can I take you out?"  Really if I wanted those kinds of dates I would be an escort and at least get PAID for my time.  Right?  Uuuuhhh.  So here I go again friends--back in the saddle again.

Sing it for me Gene!!