A year later & VD still sucks…

February 13, 2011 at 10:58 pm (Dating is Fun, Funny at least to me) (, , , , , , , , )

Valentine’s Day, you pervs. Valentine’s Day still sucks (though it goes without saying that Venereal Disease is certainly a unfortunate event as well).

But I am woman enough to admit that if I did have a significant other, I would so be expecting some candy, a car and a Ferrari. See, no one can live up to my expectations.

So in celebration of the little fat bastard, a.k.a Cupid, I give you some special Valentine greetings from those of us not so keen on the bloody holiday (and no, I have not become British…the mascot of the holiday is a non-toilet trained toddler who shoots *arrows* people, how could it not get bloody?)

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I blame the teenagers…

February 1, 2011 at 3:07 am (Funny at least to me) (, , , , )

Potty humor...get it???

I’ve never been the model of propriety. E.V.E.R. I inherited the potty humor gene from my grandfather, and have also been blessed with the ability to say something inappropriate at the world’s most inappropriate time. It’s my gift. I accept it.

But working with teenagers for 8 hours a day has enabled me to rise to a new level of maturity…especially the boys. I’m not even sure a sailor could make me blush anymore. And I confess that as I listen to people speak, I hold back the urge (sometimes) to shout, “That ‘s what she said!” The result of my interaction with teenagers is a collection of everyday words that make me giggle. Which pisses off people trying to communicate with me on a serious level, which thank goodness, does not happen too often. So, I give you the top 10 words I can no longer hear without giggling.

1) sack

2) tea bag

3) your mom (technically a phrase, but it’s my list)

4) titillate (don’t judge–you know you just giggled, too)

5) junk

6) hard (pretty much in any way shape or form…usually used in a sentence which is followed up by “That’s what she said.”)

7) balls

8) pump

9) nut(s)

10) Uranus (like you don’t laugh at that one, too)

Lovely image of the potty by Bart Everson

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Reflections should be limited to mirrors…and clean bodies of water.

January 23, 2011 at 10:16 pm (Somewhat Serious) (, , , , , , )

It’s been about a year since I started this blog…mainly as a therapeutic outlet for my foray back into the world of dating. I kind of knew going in that dating in my late 30’s was going to be nothing like dating in my 20’s, but even I couldn’t predict the gauntlet I would be running in the quest to find a suitable mate.

It makes me appreciate the idea of arranged marriages. For real, yo.

The past year has been funny, but not really fun. Thanks for bursting my bubble, reality–most of the good men really are taken. I’ve meet a few…OK,only two…that I even considered real mate potential. One of those chose someone else, allowing me to ask distance myself and then ask, ‘What the eff was I thinking?’ So thanks for the help on avoiding a major mistake, dude #1. The second, is phenomenal. Truly–one of the most interesting and highly admirable persons I’ve met in years, let’s not even worry about the dating aspect. Which we won’t right now, because the fates, sadly, are having none of it. But he does give me that little seed of hope, which sometimes, is the best of all possible outcomes.

During this quest, there have been so many nutjobs that I worry about the toxicity levels of the water here in Western New York. One guy couldn’t have a conversation without talking ad nauseum about how much he hated his ex-wife and what an evil bitch she was. Way to move on there, dude. After I told him I didn’t think he was in a good place for a relationship, he told me I was mean. Which I took as a compliment, because what he really meant was I am sane. Two weeks later, I get an email from him that he got married over the weekend. W.T.F.? You must be very happy in that world of yours you appear to be floating around in.

And this is mild compared to some of the other nonsense. Good thing I’m a high school teacher and used to dealing with humans under the influence of hormonal rages.

So, I guess this blog post really doesn’t have much of a point…just seemed like I should reflect on the year. Great idea. Now I just feel like I need a glass of wine.

 

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What’s next? Teaching them how to drive? Wait, we do that.

January 13, 2011 at 11:51 pm (Somewhat Serious)

Ah, the good old days...

My next blog post was supposed to be about my new love affair with red wine, but since that will always be a hot topic, I decided after hearing a news story today, that I had to bitch about discuss something else.

Today, I heard that the federal government has decided to attack the childhood obesity epidemic by overhauling school lunches. Great idea on the surface, right? The reality is, money that could be spent on books, technology and teachers will instead be diverted to adhering to the new standards. Wait, the feds have said that the will reimburse schools .06 per lunch. Sounds great, again. But if you’ve seen the inside of a super market, you know that overhauling the menu will cost a bit more than .06 per kid. Healthy food costs money, and unfortunately, crap is cheap, which is why schools have been forced to provide crap due to budget constraints.

Am I saying I want to have a bunch of tubby teens running around? Hell, no. I know first hand the costs of obesity, and believe me, the worst ones can’t be expressed in dollars and cents. What really gets me, is that schools are once again being called upon to do a job that should be done by the parents!!

You want to know a major reason why schools are failing at teaching the basics? Because we’re expected to be surrogate parents, not educational institutions. At the risk of sounding like an old curmudgeon, back when I was in school, our parents taught us about this crazy idea called responsibility of choice…I know, it’s amazing we didn’t all cause the cosmos to swallow itself whole with that load of horse shit. Now, schools are being held responsible for teaching kids how to eat. Am I the only one who thinks this is a little crazy here?

Schools now are expected to teach manners, social skills, proper behaviors (yes, they are different from social skills), driving, how to find a job, and any difficult subject parents want to hide their heads in the sand about (sex or drug education, anyone?), plus somehow teach students to be independent thinkers in ever-expanding classrooms that force the upright nail to be hammered down to keep an orderly environment. Not only do these additional “curricula” cost time, they also cost money; money that is siphoned away from the real items that help students learn–good teachers, relevant materials and access to technology.

So you want to see the US start to get back on top? Stop relying on the schools to do the parents’ job, and allow us to teach instead. It’s pretty simple, really. OK, actually, fixing our education system is anything but simple, I realize that. But until we start to believe in schools as places of academic learning once again, we have no right to be complaining about why our students are lagging behind the rest of the world.

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You know what’s hot? Literacy.

January 8, 2011 at 7:32 pm (Dating is Fun) (, , )

See this guy? He's hot, 'cause he can *read, * people!

Forget the sports car. Forget the rock hard abs. Forget the dashing good looks (what the hell are “dashing” good looks anyways? Sounds kind of funny to me).

The hottest thing out there today is being able to freakin ‘ read. Sad, isn’t it? And I’m not just talking about the online dating world, either. In this world of online text, the printed word is all we have people. So take the time to freakin’ read what’s there, whether you’re dealing with an auction listing, forum post or blog.

Because reading is sexy. Punctuation is sexy. Grammar can be sexy if you involve whipped cream and chocolate. But most of all, letting the person you’re interacting with know that you actually took the time to read their words–that’s the sexiest of all. Try it.

Photo of sexy literate guy courtesy of Rob Boudon

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Good thing I have 2 1/2 years to tackle this bad boy

January 4, 2011 at 2:40 am (Bucket List, Uncategorized) (, , , , , , )

Day 3 of the new year, and not one of my 40 items is on the horizon…though I did look at the papayas at the supermarket as a possible fruit never-yet-eaten. And the portabello mushrooms, because you are visiting the blog of the last existing human to have never eaten a portabello mushroom. But then I thought that mushrooms are really a fungus, even though they are in the produce section, so they can’t really serve as a new vegetable…that would be like saying I wanted to try driving a back hoe (which I would do in a heart beat if anyone was every dumb enough to allow me behind the controls in one), but instead I ride around on a tricycle armed with a shovel.

Actually, it’s probably nothing like that, but I am freezing tonight and it’s affecting my brain…like my fingers feel like popsicles. Great, I just looked at my hands, and for a second they looked like old lady hands…thanks for the reminder, hands!

So I am trying to decide what I should tackle first, but I’ll probably just sit here and freeze for a while.

Sorry this blog has no real depth to it…just felt like being a smart ass for a while. It’s my blog. I can do that.

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40 by 40…watch out world!

December 31, 2010 at 12:00 pm (Bucket List, Somewhat Serious) (, , , )

Photo courtesy of Micheletb

I’ve always been a very goal driven person. So a few months back, I complained to my therapist that I felt like I was just floating along because I had no goals. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to be when I grew up. Recently, I realized, duh, that my life is awesomely sweet now, and *that’s* why I don’t have the big goals that people usually set. I’m pretty damn happy, so I don’t feel that dooming sense of dissatisfaction lurking over my life any longer.

But I do like having goals. It forces my somewhat-lazy butt to get in gear and remember to live life *now*. So even though I won’t be 40 for over two more years, I was inspired by another friend to create a list of 40 items I’d like to accomplish by the time I’m 40…some of them will probably take the 2+ years to get there, so think of it as good planning. And I promise to subject you to all the lurid details when I cross one off the list 😉

  1. See the Northern Lights
  2. Climb a rock wall
  3. See the impact crater in Arizona
  4. Run a 5K
  5. Have my picture taken with one of the lions outside the NYPL
  6. Go to the Smithsonian
  7. Have deep dish pizza in Chicago
  8. Eat fish caught that day from the ocean
  9. Visit Ellicottville for the day
  10. Go camping (yep, never been camping for real, Girl Scouts doesn’t count)
  11. Go to the Eternal Flame Falls
  12. Swim in the natural pool at Buttermilk State Park
  13. Take a lampworking class from a well-respected artist
  14. Have a poem published in a print journal
  15. Write a novel-length piece of fiction
  16. Learn to play “Everlong” on the guitar
  17. Buy a pair of Doc Marten boots (preferably the red velvet ones)
  18. Donate platelets
  19. Sign up for the Bone Marrow Registry
  20. Swim with dolphins (preferably not because I got tossed overboard)
  21. Go whale watching again
  22. Find that perfect red lipstick
  23. Have dinner at the Buffalo Chop House
  24. Learn to make stained glass
  25. Donate 500 Beads to Beads of Courage
  26. Visit the Outer Banks again (need a replacement Dirty Dick’s glass!)
  27. Go snorkeling & hopefully see a sea turtle
  28. Make a homemade pie
  29. Make homemade lemonade in the summer
  30. Try 10 new fruits/vegetables I’ve never eaten before
  31. Learn to make stamped metal jewelry
  32. Make some resin jewelry pendants
  33. Go on a ghost hunt
  34. Visit Savannah, GA again
  35. Drink nothing but water for a week
  36. Have a butterfly land on my hand
  37. Take the train somewhere
  38. Learn to make clothes on a sewing machine
  39. Learn basic Calculus
  40. See the Persieds meteor shower

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eHarmony Sucks…just sayin’

December 26, 2010 at 3:11 am (Dating is Fun) (, , , , , )

I think the people who run eHarmony are delusional. You know that old guy in their commercials, who claims to be a “doctor”? Yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s a robot.

So I’ve been a customer of eHarmony. Only a little ashamed to admit it, mainly because it means I got played by a robot. I figured, if people are paying for a dating service, they might be a step up from the “hey baby, wanna get busy” crowd that lurks at bars and on free dating sites. Instead, I get a ROBOT sending me my perfect matches–of whom I have found maybe two out of 200 remotely interesting. So apparently, I don’t know what I want, because the robot assures me I should give people who don’t ever read books and work out 18 hours a day a chance, because that *is* what I really want. Thanks Mr. Robot. You suck.

Then Mr. eHarmony Robot has the nerve to invade my Facebook page.

What the evil eHarmony Robot wants you to believe...

If I ever find his little robot cave, I will do whatever it is people need to do to stop evil robots. I just need to do more research on that front. Promise.

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I blame The Magic School Bus

November 3, 2010 at 1:50 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , )

You know how society is crying how our youth grow up too fast? How kids are being exposed to sexual images by the evil media and turning them into little prostitutes and gigolos (OK, I had to look up how to spell gigolo, so I guess I’m not as risque as I thought)?

I blame The Magic School Bus. That’s right. The painfully bad mid-90’s cartoon that is supposedly teaching kids “science.” More like backroom biology!

So I’m at the gym, watching The Magic School Bus on closed caption. Don’t judge me, they don’t allow us to mess with the TV stations there. They are very controlling like that. Apparently the cracked-out bus has transformed into a space ship (oh, yeah, *that’s* scientifically sound), and is traveling through the solar system.

So what do I “read” on this innocent little kids show as they are headed towards Uranus (stop laughing just ’cause I said Uranus)?

“Uranus doesn’t do a thing for me…so you can get off of me, OK?”

I shit you not. I even googled the video to re-watch it, to make sure someone in the closed captioning service wasn’t messing with me. To make things worse, this is the scene in which the words are uttered.

The Magic Whore Bus is more like it!

How can our children be expected to remain pure with filth like this?!?!?!?

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Dexter is hot, and I’m a little bit simple…

October 12, 2010 at 12:41 am (Livin' La Vida Loca) (, , , )

I’ve always hated it when people assume I’m simple. Just because I don’t act like a pseudo-intellectual snob doesn’t mean I don’t have a functioning brain…but then something happens that reminds me that I give others plenty of ammunition to assume I am a few bricks short of a full load. Like when I choose an analogy with the words “brick” and “load”, knowing the connotations both those words carry beyond their intended meaning. At least with my friends.

So I am going over to a friend’s house to watch Dexter. Who is HOT! Dexter, I mean. Even if he is a serial killer, he’s a HOT serial killer. Because looking good can get you excused from all sorts of mayhem. But that really isn’t the point of my story. Even though a whole blog post about how HOT Dexter is would probably get a lot of hits.

So, again, I am going over to a friend’s house to watch Dexter. I have with me a bottle of red wine, because everybody know you don’t drink white when you are watching TV about serial killers. I have *some* class, people. Now, I confess–I am horrible with numbers. I don’t mean with math, just with the digits themselves. I can compute the resultant force of two masses pushing against each other, but I can’t remember two numbers. And if I am lucky enough to remember them, I flip them. This made learning lots of fun, and explains why I was an English major.

So I go up to house number 34, 100% positive that this is my friends house. I ring the bell. An old woman answers the door, looking a little concerned, but that’s how old ladies always look. I think it’s a lack of fiber. I figure this is Lisa’s mother, since her parents are living with her. I ask for Lisa. She tells me, “I’m not Lisa, I’m Louise.” Um, but that’s not Lisa, now is it? I apologize, knowing I have the wrong house, obviously, and Louise starts looking at me with the same sort of pitiful look she gives slow puppies. Great. Louise is judging me. She suggests I try number 43, which I think is a fabulous idea. After all, I probably just flipped the numbers.

So I take my bottle of red, and truck across the street, and ring the bell of number 43…and ask for Lisa. Who apparently doesn’t live here either. But Maryanne is very nice, and notices the bottle of wine, and says I must be a very nice friend. I think I’d like to party with Maryann some day, because she doesn’t judge me. She thinks I’m cool, even if I am a bit simple. The amazing upshot–Maryanne knows of Lisa, and points out her house…which is number 74.

The moral of the story? There is none. I’m just a simple girl with a penchant for red wine and hot serial killers. And I am OK with that. And Dexter was HOT!!!

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