& that's the way life goes

stolen from Paul's pics on FB

I was at aerial yoga and I witnessed something that annoys me like woah (do people still say that? No? I’m stuck in 1999? Ok, then.).  There was this girl and she was irritated we started on the trapeze because she was getting callouses.  Which makes me wonder, why are you doing aerial yoga?  The point is to get callouses so it doesn’t hurt as bad to do tricks…Anyhow, so that was annoyance number 1.  She went on to complain that because of the callouses her wedding ring didn’t fit.

Waaaaa…Waaaa…Waaaa…Who’s forcing you to be here?

Annoyance number 2 is something bigger and one of my biggest pet peeves ever.  Her husband comes with her and sits with his little laptop.  It’s not like he comes to see her awesomeness, no he sits in his little chair with his wireless antenna.  The only excuse that would be acceptable is if she couldn’t drive.  So if that’s why, ok I’ll give her a pass and even apologize.  If not, well then, What. The. Fuck.

I’ve never understood couples that are joined at the hip having to do EVERYTHING together.  If my opinion, and hello that’s the only one that counts right now, it’s unhealthy.   I can’t imagine spending every waking hour with C that I’m not working.  I’m pretty sure someone would be dead.  We have our own hobbies and interests.  You won’t catch me anywhere near the Michigan Speedway, unless the Indy Racing League decided to come back to town.

It’s written in stone that I never have to ask for permission to go somewhere or do something.  Of course I’ll give C the common courtesy of letting him know what I’m doing, even going so far as putting it in our synced calendar.  He laughs when the reminder for aerial yoga goes off.

I don’t know, I just needed to get that off my chest.  If you’re that girl from aerial yoga reading, I’m sorry I used you as an example but you are the most recent  case I’ve encountered.

I’m a pretty confident girl.  Sure, I have my days where I feel disgusting but for the most part I don’t complain.  Of course I check out other girls but I never feel a real jealousy.  I think she’s pretty and move on, we all have our positive attributes.

With the exception of this one girl.  I don’t even know her, she’s an ex-boyfriend’s girlfriend/fiance and every time I see her picture my confidence deflates.  (Thank you Facebook!) I know how ridiculous this sounds.  Believe me. She’s the kind of girl that makes me want to starve myself and eat a container of chocolate chip cookies simultaneously to make myself feel better.  Since I have no willpower to give up  food, I usually end up doing the latter.  She’s tall (5’9) and slender, something that I will never, ever be.  Clearly, by now I’m done growing topping off at 5’3 and I’m not built to be slender.  I’d classify myself as athletic and not just because I play sports. She’s probably graceful and not a huge klutz like me. You get the picture…

I guess on the bright side whenever I’m feeling way too happy or good about myself , I know how to get rid of my big head.

Do you ever feel this way? Why? Who? I’m not the only one, right?

Ok, I will be honest.  I don’t think it’s just her looks, I am pretty sure know there is more to my neurosis but I’m not comfortable letting all that out in a public forum.

Quick story for ya…

I ran out of jelly beans yesterday so C said he would pick some up for me when he stopped at the grocery store.  I was eating them today when I had this rancid taste in my mouth.  None other than the taste of a black jelly bean!  Hey, I like jager  as much as the next person but if it’s not giving me some type of alcoholic buzz I don’t want that nasty taste in my mouth.  So I texted him to let him know I did not appreciate the black jelly beans.

Me: you bought me jelly beans that have black ones in them. YUCK!
C:    Those are Obama jelly beans*

I don’t know why but I was cracking up so much.  He also had a gem when he called our friends a pain in his testicles.  Jokingly of course

You are wondering why you read my blog aren’t you?  Aren’t you?!

*Obviously no one meant for this to be offensive.

So I heard something this week that shouldn’t hurt my feelings.  It was something that I partially brought on myself but other aspects were out of my hands.  I know that I’ve complained about my Grams on here a few times about how I wish I just had a loving Grandma to be a part of my life.  I’ve come to terms with the way things are but it doesn’t hurt any less when I get a confirmation of how I fucked up things are.

It may be cowardly of me not to want to get together to hash things out.  To be adult about it and not blame her for things.  She is not a mature person, I don’t think she ever was.  And just because I say I don’t want to get together to yell out my frustrations doesn’t mean that there isn’t a tiny part of me that would like to.

In short, my mom’s good friend J, who had been a part of their family for years going on trips up north with them etc, wrote my Grams an email trying to get back in touch with her.  Because unlike me, J wanted to get things out in the open and reunite with her friend after years of being apart.  It should be said that J was pushed out my Grams’ life when she married a control freak who didn’t care for J, over 15 years ago.  Now that the husband is out of the picture there shouldn’t be a problem.  When I was talking to my Grams she said she wanted nothing more than to reconnect with her old friend.

BULL SHIT.

J waited for weeks for a response to the email she sent.  She finally accepted defeat and sent one more email saying Goodbye.  Which got a response from my Grams stating that  ” she thought it would be easier for J and I  if she stayed out of picture”.

WHAT THE FUCK?  Clearly, it’s easier for her to not have to face either one of us.  Why?!

So yeah, that hurts a little.  That while I may not have done a lot to reconcile that my Mother’s Mother, she has decided what is easiest for me without even including me in the conversation.

Anybitches, did you know that the crockpot is the best invention ever?  You put a bunch of stuff in it and when you get home the house smells like you have a 1950′s housewife cooking for you.

minutes in … shoes!

I actually thought long and hard about this, and by long and hard I mean like 5 minutes.  I don’t want to be famous and I can’t really think of anyone I’d  want to be for only3 minutes.  Curiosity killed the cat right?  So yeah my honest answer is  3 minutes as Kik’s* finance.  Maybe it would cure the “what could have been” craptastic scenarios I have from time to time.  3 minutes of my alternate reality.

Lame.

And as a disclaimer to this post, when I decided to try out Wishful Wednesday, I had no idea this is what I would be typing.  Sometimes the truth is completely annoying.  This is also one of those posts I wonder if I should publish. Don’t be surprised if I take it down or completely change it.

Update! OR YOU KNOW…

Jeff Corwin!

{via mlive}

I’m pretty sure 3 minutes would cover holding something that might attack me and hopefully be a quick enough  that I wouldn’t actually die from panic.

It took me a good two hours to come up with a substitute.  FAIL.

Wishful Wednesdays brought to you by Kelsey.

*(if you want to read more on Kik , enter it in the search box)