Thursday, November 29, 2012

Oh, shopping for one?


Retro Grocery Shopping Pantry Party Stock Kitchen Invites*
Sometimes we place ourselves in environments where we are palpably, blatantly, obviously, clearly, and extremely single.
Let’s talk about the grocery store, or what we like to call “the Spinster dungeon.”
“I LOVE grocery shopping!” (said no one ever)
You walk into the entryway and grab a shopping basket because you don’t need a cart. This is the first hint that you are shopping for you and you alone.
Next, you wander the aisles and grab ONE can of soup and ONE box of cereal that you want to throw at the couple next to you because they are searching for the best cut of meat for their romantic dinner that they are cooking together. (Bitter much?)
The only things in your basket that show you might be shopping for two are your heaping bags of Oreos and Elmer Fudge cookies because they were on sale--two for one!…and because you just really like cookies.
Well, spinsters have to eat too so it looks like the grocery store cannot be avoided (unless you are loaded and can afford to eat out for every meal. Not us.)
It is a conundrum. Food or cautious hermitage? Food wins every time!

Constantly fighting the dragons,
Charlotte and Gertrude

P.S. One day it will be nice to have someone else around to carry the groceries so you don’t cut off your blood flow with your 17 plastic bags digging into your frail arms.

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Love Is A Merry-Go-Round.


A merry go round that ain’t always very merry.

Round and round we go.   Will we stop? We never know.

Same shit, different time.

Different day.

Different guy.

One minute you’re elated.

The next, fairly certain you might vomit.

Then, you’re exhilarated. “OMGEE THIS IS THE BEST RIDE EVERRRRR!”

Followed immediately by, “I’m scared, how the hell did we get here, get me the fuck off this fucking ride surely designed by the spawn of satan.”

Repeat. In cycles. Dizzy, dizzy cycles.

Me (to self): “Why do I keep getting on this thing?”

Why do we keep thinking the ride might be different this time? 

Sure, it’s in a different location.  And this merry-go-round is RED.  Our last one was blue.  Hell-O.  Like, soo different. Duh.

And it IS different.  Until it isn’t.  And then it is again.  I think?

Oh wait- am I just going around in circles here?

Somebody stop me. 
Stop the ride.
Stop it all.

I squint my eyes and wait for the spinning to cease.  The nausea to scram. My appetite to return.  And hopefully when it does, it only wants kale and nuts.  Why can't I ever just crave KALE??

But we still hold out hope.  We have to believe that maybe this turn, this ride is going to take us to a new place. 

And, if the stars align and luck wins out, we get to graduate to the next level.

I’ll see you on the see-saw. 


Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Back by popular demand


Well hello, hello blogosphereicals! 

I know. I know.  Where the hell have I been?

Thanks to all of you that wrote comments asking me to come back.  The 8 of you are really sweet. ;)

The truth is, I’ve missed you all. 
Missed writing. 
But Lindsey was in a reeeal dark place for a lil’ bit back there.  I guess having your first real heartbreak at 34 can stir some shit up.  Cause lemme tell you, that shit was stirred and stirred good!
I began to question EVERYTHING.
My life.
My job.
Where I lived.
My hair color (should I dye it? It’s still natural. And one of the only natural things I have left?)
My job. Yes, again. 
Should I get a dog?
My job. Again again.
Are all my jeans hitting my legs in an odd place and no one is telling me??
And so on…

Not to mention I had the post of being my sister’s Maid Of Honor (and sole wedding party member). So, in the midst of my Goth period, I had to plan a bachelorette lakehouse party for 12 in Austin, play mediator between my mom and sister, help with things for the wedding [like the song my sister wanted me to sing as a surprise—NO PRESSURE].  Write a speech for my only sibling {even less pressure}, find a dress, fight with my mom, and still try to go to work.

My ex bf Champ also decided to re-emerge during that time, calling for a truce and apologizing for being angry at me for TWO years when he realizes I was just “doing what I needed to do.”  We ended up meeting for dinner.  It did not go amazingly.

Then I got home to some Dad-issues (that have since been resolved).

And maybe I also, in a fit of insanity, agreed to let a Brit guy I met on my last work trip to London come to stay in my shoebox with me. FOR A WHOLE WEEK. And play tour guide to all things New York/American. I'm super smart sometimes.

Luckily, I also took the entire month of August off. You know, for mental sanity/not hurtling myself off my office balcony whislt crying “carpe diem!”  Or just whilst crying. Which I did. A LOT.  

And, somewhere in there, during one particular "why am I here again?" day at work, I decided to force myself to get back on Match.com.

See, I had been dating. Many guys.  None of whom weren’t 27. Or 28.  And I was over it.  But where the crap were the AA guys? 
Some ideas:
NO WHERE.
Invisible.
Gay.
Taken.
Hiding.
Hiding under a douche boulder.
In Boulder.
In Brookland.
In my imagination.

So I decided to give Match another try, only this time with rules: 
No meeting a guy unless I feel very good about his pics (in terms of “Am I attracted to you?”) and just as impornatly, do we have good chemistry via email/text or talking banter?  No to either is a no-go.  

The usual list of Dungeons and Dragons freaks, hobbits and grandpappys hit me up right off the bat.  But, once again, I went people shopping.  And, lucky lucky me.  I found Ole Miss

Who is  now (drumroll)……..my boyfriend.

That’s right.  I have a straight-up-now-tell-me BF.   
And he is maybe the best guy I have ever met.  I knew it from the beginning.  It took me awhile to leggo my Eggo and really fall in.  But fall I have. Or at least tripped and stumbled, Lindsey-style. 
I’m totally smitten, to the point I may very easily end up sinking my own battleship.  But I’m trying very hard to get out of my head, and stay out of it.
It’s been a solid 4 mos and we’re about to spend together:
-Both birthdays {Dec Sag twinsies!}
-Christmas with his fam in the New York area
-New Year’s in Colorado with my sis, hubs and friends
(not to mention a decent amount of money. Holiday travel—am I right?!)

"What does this mean for us readers?" you're undoubtedly asking. 

Well, I still have some pretty good stories from the past few months that my depressed fingers just couldn't seem to type out.  So maybe those will come up.
And, maybe I'll just write.  About what the hell ever.  And you can tell me if it sucks or not.  

IRREGARDLESS [not a word], today I give thanks for all of you and your support. 
To my amazing family.  
My fabulous friends, all from different ways and walks but all such incredible people I can’t believe how blessed I am.
And, for Ole Miss.

Everyone, please say a little prayer.  And feel free to have it start like this:

Please. Don’t f*k this up, Lindsey!

gobble gobble, y'all.

Friday, November 16, 2012

Snoring ain't boring


















So…

At 2 a.m my sister who was under the weather had an idea.

She…..
 drove over to my house
opened the door with a spare key
 came into my room
opened all my dresser drawers till she found some medicine
closed the drawers
shut my door
 and drove back to her house.

I NEVER WOKE UP.

Is anyone else alarmed here? That despite my house being broken into, doors opening, dresser drawers being slammed, and medicine bottles shaking, I SLEPT LIKE A BABY.

It has happened to me before.

When I was in high school my house’s carbon monoxide alarm went off and my parents opened my bedroom door, turned on the lights, opened my windows, were talking to each other about what was making the alarm go off

AND….

I slept through it.

I just wish I could use this deep sleep talent to my advantage….

  • Like yesterday when the white Honda and blue Camry’s wreck debris were covering the road and traffic was at a sandstill…
  • Or when you’re the only one in the library waiting for everyone to get there to work on your group project. (Yes we were supposed to meet at 11. Not 11:20.)
  • Or when you wake up in the middle of the night and reality and fantasy are mixed and the weirdest pieces of your day combine into one hot mess smoothie.
  • Or on a bad date…  (oh wait…one time my date actually did lie down two chairs away from me at a movie theater and fell asleep. That was fun. )
Off to bed,
Char





Monday, November 5, 2012

Smile, and prepare to photo bomb

*















There are many ways people can bomb photos.

You can get a lazy eye mid picture. Someone could have their mouth full of food. And our personal favorite, a complete stranger standing behind you staring directly at the camera as if they’ve never seen something flash before.

As Spinsters, we have many opportunities to bomb photos.

First, the family photo.

Ahhh…there it is. The typical American family. Mom and Dad in center, hands placed gently on each other’s knees. Top left corner the Grandpa lovingly places his hands on Grandma’s shoulders. A smattering of children adorn mother’s arms or father’s lap. Everything looks nice and perfect.

And then there’s you.

Hmmmm. The photographer has placed everyone so nicely and then you had to come along and ruin everything. Should he place you next to the Grandparents? No…then you’ll look like you’re their kid. What about holding a niece or nephew?  No then you’ll look like a single parent. How about next to your sister? Oooh super awkard. Your brother-in-law now has two wives.

After much deliberation the photographer tucks you nicely at the knee of your parents where you as an independent, confident career savvy woman look like a small child yet to be weaned from the home life gravy train.

Second, The Ex.

He thought he was rid of you did he? No more being tied down during NBA games. No more having to spend good money on your hun-cal frozen yogurt fetish. No more DTRs…well he better be prepared to have a DTR with every person he comes in contact with due to your photo bombing his family Christmas card.

Bless her heart relative: “Now who is that darling young lady I saw you with in the card? Is she your wife?”
The Ex: “Er….no. That was a girl I was dating. We’re not dating anymore.”

BHHR: “Oh! Well I just saw her in the card. I thought she was your wife.”
The Ex: “No…Nope. Not my wife.”
BHHR: “Yes you see I got your card and thought, “Oh! Well look who got married.”
The Ex: “Yeah…I didn’t.”
BHHR: “So you’re not dating her anymore?”

Wow. Wow. Wow.
That is a painfully awkward conversation.

Spinsters across the globe are slowly, but surely doing their best to ruin one photo at a time.

Embrace the awkwardness,

Char and Gert