Have you ever had someone ask you out on a date and then completely forget about it? Within a week of the ask? No, me neither. Oh wait, it just happened. It is an experience not to be forgotten or replicated, especially when you see the brain fart happen right in front of you. It … Continue reading Realizing your Picker is still broken.
Milwaukee, not just brats and beer.*
I was cold. I was tired. I was in Milwaukee. For anyone who thinks business travel is glamorous, it isn't. I had no expectations and assumed it would be more of the same, yet another stop on a grueling itinerary. To be honest, the trip didn't start off well. I had forgotten to book my … Continue reading Milwaukee, not just brats and beer.*
Casper the Emotionally Crippled Ghost
I feel like a caveat or three might be necessary for this post. The wound hasn’t fully healed so the sarcasm might be more biting and the bitterness more evident. Sometimes a rebound can hurt as much as the real thing. I met Casper last year when I was on my Starve, Cry, Wallow journey. … Continue reading Casper the Emotionally Crippled Ghost
Marco! Polo!
There’s a game I subconsciously play in my head. It sounds a lot like “Marco! Polo!” but instead it is a guy yelling, “Broken!” and me yelling, “Pick me!” It isn’t quite as much fun since there is no swimming pool and there are usually tears at the end. Mine or his depending on the … Continue reading Marco! Polo!
Depth of a Puddle
I think that saying he had the depth of a puddle is generous. Douchebag, Dennis Bag (for the kids so I don't have to explain what a douchebag actually is) or DB (for short). We all make mistakes but this one was a big one. They say that love is blind but in my case … Continue reading Depth of a Puddle
My Broken Picker
My friend Mary Beth says I have a broken picker when it comes to men. She doesn’t say it to hurt my feelings, it is just an observation. For those of you who don’t know what that means, here are some examples. You know you have a broken picker when, 1) You meet a much … Continue reading My Broken Picker
Allergic to Exercise
My dad says that my mom is allergic to exercise. I think it must be hereditary. I hate it. With a passion. Every minute of it. Even yoga. My friends don't believe me because I am pretty active. I have played volleyball, tennis, roller derby and now am working on learning to climb and honing … Continue reading Allergic to Exercise
Eat, Pray, Love
One of my friends says that for the last 10 months I have been on an Eat, Pray, Love journey. So far it has just been eat because I don’t pray and I certainly haven’t found any love, at least not the kind of love that a single woman with two cats hopes to find. … Continue reading Eat, Pray, Love
Seriously, what am I doing with my life?
You know you spend too much time at the coffee shop near your house when, 1) Your father calls it your “office” and asks if you are there every time he calls. 2) You are contemplating getting a job as a barista because you might just as well get paid for being there. 3) You … Continue reading Seriously, what am I doing with my life?
