My Past Lives in a Dead Hard Drive

When people tell you to back up your computer, they really mean it. Serious they are. This is one of those rare instances that fall into actual proven advice that you should follow and not ignore. Not until the Apple Genius with unnaturally spiky hair started lecturing to me like a 3 year-old while he explained the importance of backing up your files did I realize I had lost everything. And I mean everything. Not a mp3, jpeg, word file left in the house of Girl Twentiesh's MacBook. Totally blank. Guess my ex would be happy about the super clean filing system and desktop I now have due to the fact I have nothing. I should take a screenshot and impress him with my drastic improvements. So basically it's as if there were a fire. With no insurance to collect.

How does this make me feel? Sad to have lost precious photos I can't get back. Annoyed I have to somehow recollect the 10,000 songs I had acquired. Pretty sick about the countless writings, thoughts, projects I can no longer claim. But other than that...I feel pretty clean. Maybe an unintentional fresh start is a good thing?

So kids, keep in mind from a girl who knows:

1. Drunk driving is bad bad bad

2. Get good grades in high school and college

3. Workout for sanity and health and in case you need to defend yourself

4. There is such a thing as too many Red Bull vodkas

5. Guys have feelings too

6. Your best friends are your best friends, and they'll never let you down

7. You need to work hard to get places

8. If a guy orders a frozen drink and he's not in Mexico or Hawaii, stay away

9. If it sounds bad when you say it out loud- it is

10. Back up your files on your computer

No Limit to Public Embarrassment: The Bachelor

Literally watched the television last night with my mouth hanging wide open in disbelief. After an early morning 3.5 hour drive home and a long weekend packed full I thought best to take it easy and indulge in a magazine reading/television watching night. Thought I'd check out how our most recent bachelorette was faring on The Bachelorette. Found her to be way less annoying than previous contestants, and the men were actually cute, but how anyone believe it's "real" is beyond me. Regardless, somehow the show ended with an interview with former Bachelor Jake and his recently split from fiance where they decided it would be cool to have a heated couples fight on national television. This, my friends, was real. Nobody could script with total accuracy the way a completely disgruntled couple with complete disrespect, emotional selfishness and pure idiocy fights. Imagine two 4 year olds having temper tantrums in adult outfits, and basically you have what I saw on television last night. It took personal embarrassment to a staggering new level. And they did it on television. On purpose. If there were ever a time to ask WTF it would be now. Being in a bad relationship is tough enough to admit and get over the far sightedness and poor poor judgement, but making your behavior the business of the rest of America? If I saw myself like that on television I would take the first plane to the most uncivilized country and ban myself there for all of eternity.

Then again, I should be really embarrassed to admit I watched the show and was affected so much I had to write about it.

I'm Not Strange- I'm Innovative

I am the first one to admit I can be a bit off the wall. Not in the way of the crazies you pass on the street eating their hair and singing songs about mysterious people and events that probably never happened, but in an ordinary off the wall way where I may say/do/admit to something that would have you thinking I'm slightly quirky. But heck, aren't we all? I'm not special in my quirkiness, I just don't hide it.

For instance, growing up, I refused to let anyone sit on my bed. Not because it was "mine" or I didn't want someone to screw up my very ugly 80's and early 90's comforter (think teals), but because I couldn't handle the thought of a person's smell to be on the bed I slept in. Like an invasion into my safe haven of only me and my germs. Uh. I still can't handle it unless it's someone I'm attracted to. This has also translated into the refusal to use any blanket that I don't know the origins of. Imagine all the germs and smells on those!

Then there is food. Became a vegetarian at age twelve when I started to think literally about food. I mean how can you eat something when it's probably exactly what your thigh would like like baked in an oven? Gross to the millionth degree. I think it's actually a disorder, as I've had to consciously force myself to not think about food literally (like man-made items being essentially sponges injected with chemical flavor on a conveyor belt with depressed people in hairnets) so I don't become a real outcast unable to eat anything. I just don't go there anymore and repress the urge to visualize.

We all have our weird germ issues and phobias. But without getting into it, I know I'm not always conventional in thought. Half the time I have to preface statements with, "I clearly know this is not normal behavior or thought."

Yet a couple weeks ago, when I found myself in that very situation, offering my disclaimer to my uncle, he responded with "I don't think you're weird- you're just innovative."

And I'm taking it and running with it. I'm not strange- I'm innovative!

Wow. Thanks for the Support for my Goals.

Recently I made the decision to run a marathon. A big deal, sorta, but lots of people make the same decision every year. And it really isn't that far-fetched for me, I have been an athlete most of my life. And this is what we do as we get older- think of random ways to challenge ourselves and make us feel better to keep ourselves going amidst dreadful work weeks. Want to spice up your life? Start running 30 miles a week. The pain of morning meetings dulls in comparison to limping your knee across 9 miles on a Saturday afternoon. I've actually quarantined myself on Friday nights, going to bed at 10pm, so I can prepare for my Saturday long runs (I cannot be trusted anywhere near a bar). Usually this decision is met with overwhelming family & friend support. Your nearest & dearest proclaiming, "Way to go! You can do it!" Nope. Not in my family. My family thinks I'm insane. Some quotes from my lovely family gathering yesterday:

"You probably won't even finish." (Father)

"Can I give you beer somewhere?" (Brother)

"I don't know why you're doing that." (Grandpa)

"People die doing marathons." (Grandma)

Silent shaking of the head (Twin Brother)

Wow! Thanks for the support guys! Love that "you can do anything" boost you're giving me to my difficult and challenging goal. Now if I die running my marathon I'm not only going to be dead- but humiliated- my family shaking their heads when I drop at mile 22 in their I-told-you-so sentimentality. Instead of R.I.P my grave will say, "If only you listened you wouldn't be dead."

Whatever. Now I want to kick the marathon's ass even more to prove to my family I can do it. And live through it. Without drinking a beer.

Your Cheating Brain. Gimme a Break.

Breaking news! Study released that certain men have a genetic gene that gives them more trouble in relationships and are more likely to cheat. A study done in Sweden, in which scientists studied the gene types of 552 sets of twins, determined "there is a bonding chemical in some men that makes them less likely to be married and more likely to have bad relationships."

Wow, talk about totally useless information. What, are they going to develop anti-cheating medications now? I can just see the pharmaceutical commercials during Jersey Shore re-runs pushing men to buy pills to stop their unstoppable "genetic" behavior of cheating. It'd be a pretty fantastic money maker, because lots and lots of people cheat. Maybe I should jump on this...

Or better yet, now that this amazing discovery has been made, will women have access to genetic screenings before they walk down the isle? And of course she'll be sympathetic, because just like diabetes and bipolar disorder and baldness...he can't help it. He was programmed that way!

Don't get me wrong- I like science. It comes in handy to explain things we humans just need an answer to. Break all unexplainables down to a system of explainables. But there is something called BEHAVIOR. That we do have control over. To my knowledge I am not a robot being controlled by genes or God or Kevin Costner (although he might think he could develop an invention to do so)...pretty sure I make my day-to-day decisions on behavior. Do I want to scream F-U to people at times? Yes, yes I do. And it very well may be in my genes. But there's a moment between the genetic trigger and my mind/body connection allowing an action to pass through my urges and to the outside world. And I do believe I've got a pretty big part in this.

Now let me get back to some real news- the hot guys in the World Cup taking their shirts off.

If you'd like to know more about this study, check it.

And Why is it People Like to Watch Real People Bicker?

Listening to television as I lay here in pain with a incredibly stiff back (apparently we fall apart as we get older) I'm in even more pain listening to these stupid bitches from The Real Housewives of New York bicker with each other. Guess I've caught the tail end of some reunion special, which by the looks of it I'm shocked anyone watched any episodes at all. I've watched the show a couple times in the last few years, in even more superficial hopes that it'd be about fashion. Show me some hot outfits and I can mute out the rest. Instead it's like being around a bunch of whiny girls in ugly outfits with ugly gay husbands and too much makeup on super shiny skin. And most of the time they're just throwing insults back and forth. Rather screeching insults back and forth. Why is this fun to watch? I don't like to be around mean petty girls in real life, so why on earth would I want to listen to perfect strangers be despicable? I don't get it. And not to mention, aren't they humiliated? I've been in fights before, and I certainly wouldn't ever want someone to see me behave irrationally on TV! I am totally missing why why why these people are entertaining. Because I'm just annoyed and embarrassed. These people make The Hills chicks seem classy.

Along With Stereotypes, I Also Enjoy A Fine Gentleman

That sounds way worse than I meant. Not that way. Well...

But don't you just love a fine gentleman? It seems that us Gen Xers, Gen Y's and Millenials have been thrown into a gender bender world where lines blur between an old fashioned lady and chivalrous man into an everything goes homogeneous gender where acts of sophisticated niceties between men and women are, well, lacking. Now a guy will try and download an app to open doors and a woman will help a man apply bronzer to his abs. That's modern day chivalry.

Lucky for me I've been experiencing an onset of gentlemen-like behavior, and I actually feel like I'm in a romantic comedy or something. It feels so strange. So overwhelmingly pleasantly strange. First off is the manfriend, who literally opens every door for me. When he's dropping me off, he stops the car. Gets out. Walks me to my door. Kisses me goodbye. When I'm carrying something? It could be a pebble and he'd take it from my hand and carry it. Don't even get me started on the flowers, as I still blush just thinking about it. Let me tell you, it's something to get used to. Guys-men-people...they just aren't like this! But as a stubborn and extremely self-sufficient relatively young lady- it's really fabulous in an uncomfortably unknown way. Probably similar to when you first tasted beer. It tastes really weird, you can't understand it and aren't sure how you'll get used to it, but it makes you feel really good. Then the more you have the more you like it and suddenly you're drunk. I'm drunk on gentlemen.

And then the southern gents. Last few days being down south reminded me of how the older generation of southern boys still have that immediate reaction of impeccable manners to females. Men offering up seats for me, taking my luggage down for me from the overhead bin without even asking if I needed help, asking me for my I.D when I order a Bloody Mary (ok, that isn't really gentlemen behavior but at my age it makes me feel good). All this nice attention I'm waiting for the director to yell, "Cut!" and the lights to go out and my shoes stripped from my feet. In other words, back to normal.

But, for now I'm going to lather in the deliciousness of having nice men be nice to me. Soon enough one jackass will ruin it for everyone.

Man I Love a Good Stereotype

Finding myself this evening in a hotel bar in Oklahoma City, well, I had no expectations. Kinda hoped my Chef Salad wouldn't be exclusively ham, iceberg lettuce and croutons- but oh well. Iceberg lettuce is refreshing and goes well with Pinot Noir (anything in my world goes well with Pinot Noir).

Wrapping up a short work trip I sat at the bar, reading my New York Times, and was so very delighted to be seated next two three great real stereotypes. Imagine if you will: Three men. Pot bellies. Golf shirts. Mid-fifties. Mustaches, oh glorious, mustaches. Not the trendy-retro-phase deal people are doing to be throwback...but authentic real-life handlebars with a touch of salt and pepper. Texans & Oklahomans, with sons at UT-Austin (where strangely being a northern gal I went to school) and jobs in commercial construction. And my God they were perfect real-life stereotypes. I am a total sucker for real-life stereotypes! I couldn't get enough. Harping on their wives, bickering about football, talking about golf, eating chicken wings. I actually diverted calls from the homeland to get high on stereotype stories. Which all brings me to this: Sometimes, life sucks. People suck. Work is stressful. Hearts are broken. People betray. But oh the joys of strangers who bring every cliche, every poor TV sitcom portrayal to life...GEMS. This. Is what makes life grand.

There's a Good Chance I'm Immature

Realized this weekend that there's a good chance I may be immature. I mean, I watch The Bachelorette. I drink more than one cocktail every weekend and have actually puked from a hang over in recent months. Gotten in girl fights. I eat granola bars and almonds for most of my meals. I killed four very easy plants in less than a month during my attempt to become domestic and appear less like a single male bachelor. All behavior most people my age have shed. Interesting considering for most of my life people have commented on the fact I acted older than my age. Somehow I've regressed. So what do I do? Probably can't force maturity. Has to happen naturally. Or I move to LA so I can fit in.

The Great Boyfriend Experience Game

I have a new brilliant idea for a board game that is not only entertaining, but practical and educational for any young woman/man about to enter the dating world. And for all those people who have never touched a board game- well, you're missing out- and, it could easily be changed into a Nintento Wii game or virtual whatever to maximize usability cross-generations.

The game? The Great Boyfriend Experience. The purpose? To survive dating in your lifetime with a healthy attitude and no real emotional scars. Similar to the game of Life but with some properties of Monopoly, the players will go through their dating life and compete to get out ahead, and alive, at the end. Because dating is always a roll of the dice, players will roll the dice to see where they land on the board and have to do the appropriate action. You may land on "You chose to be a rebound girl" and go back 5 spaces. Or, you may land on "When he started getting mysterious texts late at night (not from you) you cut him loose right away" and you gain $10 in emotional stability currency. There will be challenge cards where you must be forced to pick the correct answer, challenging your ability to react to dating dilemmas, which if you answer incorrectly you could lose all your precious emotional stability currency you've acquired. Because you see ladies and gents- one wrong turn in the dating world and you can lose any and all sensibility you've built up for, say, the last 15 years. It's a slippery slope.

Look for it at your local Target in 2012.

Jessica Simpson Goes Natural. It'll Only Cost You $400 To Do It Too.

In the May issue of Marie Claire Jessica Simpson "makes a point" by going au natural on the front cover. Amidst an industry focused on airbrushing to the max, it's supposed to be a groundbreaking and refreshing take on real beauty. I actually think she looks way better. But I don't mind heavy photoshop work in magazines either- I like pretty people and things. It's art.

However, the part that makes me chuckle, in the inside cover under "Win Jessica's Cover Look" you win beauty products worth more than $440.

So, you're telling me I can be a "real" beauty for only $440? Think I'll spring for photoshop. Sounds cheaper.

Do Successful People Come From Only Poverty or Prosperity?

I've been traveling for work lately and therefore have had quite a bit of time to think and compare myself to others. Naturally I started to wonder why I'm not more successful. By this age I should be successful, right? Not sure what "success" actually entails, but I'm pretty sure where I am is not getting me any membership offers. Probably need to make at least double the money I'm making now to even be an intern in the success club. And because I like to attack problems from every possible angle, I decided that my success hindering began in a condition I had no control over: middle class.

Doesn't it seem like everyone who is really successful either came from nothing or everything? It's the guy who shared bath water with his six sisters or the girl from Laguna Beach who was born in a Prada onesie that become successful. It's not really the girl who grew up in a pretty comfortable middle-class, normal suburb, did well in school, went to slightly above average colleges but not Ivy League who ends up right exactly where she began...the middle class. She's successful by not becoming a meth addict, grossly overweight, or wearing Arden B way beyond an appropriate age. But she's no Carrie Bradshaw. I did successfully just generalize and whittle it back down to myself...

On to discovering how to beat the middle class ceiling.

Traits of An Irresistible Man. Supposedly.

I was so happy to see MSN's new glo.msn.com featured an article today on the traits of an irresistible man, because I really need help figuring out how to find a man that's irresistible. As of now I find most of the ones I meet entirely resistible. Which is a problem if I want a romantic life.

According to the article...

#1. A Manly Scent. Hmmm. Wouldn't any man have a "manly" scent, being a man and all? Not sure this one will help me.

#2. Ample Displays of Affection. Somewhat agreeable, but with limits. Groping me in public- not irresistible. Showing affection to every woman, not irresistible.

#3. A Sexy Wink. Really? Is there such a thing? If a man winks at me, he's cheesy, not sexy.

#4. Good Grooming. I'm going to say that good grooming is a prerequisite. Not a bonus.

#5. A Calming Vibe. Agreed! I can't believe I'm agreeing with msn.com writers! A cool, calm and collected man is pretty sexy. And if he can stay that way beyond the first date, score.

#6. A Sense of Style. Um. This can go overboard. Too much of his own sense of style and you could be drowning in Ed Hardy tee-shirts and looking at Spencer Pratt.

#7. A Great Sense of Humor. Of course. Again, kinda necessary.

And, that's it. Huh. Not unlocking any major secrets there.

If you need to learn more, read the article here.

Please Stop Making Me Feel Like I Need To Tan

Why is everyone so tan?

Where I live, the sun hasn't been out and strong enough to alter the chemistry of skin (besides having it freeze) in 7 months. But everywhere I go people are not even tan, but Super Tan. Unless there was a group month long trip to Ibiza that I missed out on, I'm guessing this is the result of tanning beds. And I'd like to ask the general public to stop this behavior, as it's making me feel bad about myself.

I am guilty of self-tanner/bronzer use. But I'm starting to feel like I use it because I want to be a part of this totally new self-induced race running around. What are the genetic tendencies of the Fake-N-Bake race? Health Clubs, bars, and Starbucks- all places I frequent! So when I'm working my triceps in desperate attempt to never suffer from under arm wings, I'm forced to look at the fourteen other people in the mirror who glow and glisten with a sparkly bronze. I tend to glow in a translucent white shade. And frankly, it's making me feel a little bad about my appearance. If ya'll could wait until June to be tan (from the natural sun, like the earth intended) I would be extremely grateful. I really don't want to spend $80 a month on something nature could give me, nor up my anti-wrinkle cream usage to fight the side effects. Just because those people on the Jersey Shore are Super Tan doesn't mean they are role models for the rest of us. On that note, the rest of their behavior doesn't seem like anything you'd want to go after either...

Luck Should Be Given Out Evenly

Do you ever feel like some people have all the luck? I'm not sitting in a corner saying "woe is me" or anything, but I kinda feel like luck should be dished out a little more evenly. Or at least given to those who deserve it. But it seems like people hoarding all the luck steer on the side of not really being worthy of it all. And you know they know it! They walk around with a twinkle in their smile that says, "I am totally the luckiest bastard in the world and I'm gonna run for it!" It all makes me extremely suspicious that karma or fate or any of those excuses we use to explain life actually deserve any merit at all. And I'm not talking about any of that crap like, "I'm lucky to be alive" and "I'm lucky to have family"- we're talking about REAL luck here. Like people who fall into jobs that they never should have had, people who have these lifestyles of ease and breeze that did nothing but stumble upon luck to get it, and super models who were born perfect (a Victoria's Secret commercial just came on) and therefore have power over the world.

Uh, maybe I should just be happy I'm not Sandra Bullock.

Is It Possible To Be Chemically Dependent on a Human?

I think I might have a chemical dependency on another human. And I've been looking for treatment options, but there doesn't seem to be any. No health insurance coverage for this addiction.

You might be thinking to yourself: This chick is crazy. How can she be chemically addicted to a human? But I'm telling you, the chemical makeup of me gets high on the chemical makeup of another. This person is my crack cocaine. No matter how much I try to resist temptation, the high is so great that I risk the lowest of lows for a little taste of the candy. Defying all logic it's like a magnetic force pulling me in and I have zero power to stop it.

It's terrible. I need hypnosis or rehab or something.

Early Onset Alzheimer's?

Yesterday I ran one of my normal 4 mile routes. I've been running said route for a solid 1.5 years. However yesterday, I got lost getting home.

Suddenly I looked around and thought to myself, "Huh, this doesn't look familiar." I was so turned around that I actually had to use my iphone maps to get me home.

This is concerning to say the least. This proves my ability to become completely focused on thought alone...but is no excuse for actually getting lost a mile away from my home. I do not know what this says about myself.

Is It Unhealthy to Want a Relationship Seen On TV?

I need to admit an unhealthy love for something not real. It's called "Friday Night Lights", it's a television show, and I am in love with it. In particular, I am modeling my hopeful life partner off of a relationship seen on television.

I feel I must defend myself by illuminating you all with the knowledge that I've never really been a "tv" person. True, I went to film school, but I really didn't watch television or listen to music until my mid-twenties. Even so, I very recently bought my first ever television (I've had tv hand-me-downs, don't worry, I'm not a total freak). I like tv, just haven't really found the time to get involved on a regular basis. I actually want to be more of a tv person (hence the recent purchase) not only because it's pretty essential for my career, but because it really is a good form of escape. Therapy in a cheaper manner.

Regardless, my brother turned me on a month ago to this show "Friday Night Lights" and he insisted I'd really like it because it was well made, good writing, fine actors, etc. I blew it off, because it looked to me like something my mom would watch while crocheting on an actual Friday night (bless her soul). Basically one step away from a Lifetime made-for-tv movie. Yet, I obliged and got Season 1, Disk 1 on Netflix. And that was the beginning of my love affair. I LOVE that show. I love the people, I love their lives, and I love their relationships. My main infatuation is with Coach Taylor and his wife. I want their relationship. They are so in love but have real life problems! They fight, but they apologize and they say what they feel and in the end they always end up getting each other. Or, they don't get each other and it's ok. Mrs. Taylor can actually speak her mind and will yell at her husband and stick up for herself and in the end he admits wrong doing, she admits her wrong doing, and they are there for each other and partners and you can just tell they're meant to be together. Ah. It's so frickn' perfect. It's perfect but it's not perfect which in my mind makes it perfect. And that is what I want.

So, um, is this unhealthy? That I finally know what I'm looking for in a man and life partner and it's modeled off of a fictional couple based on a football centric town in Dillon, TX and returns to television (thank God as I am now caught up and through all 3 seasons) in April?

Don't Call Me That or Do That (at Work)

I'm no feminist (I believe gender roles can be useful in keeping life organized) but there are things that really bother me as a female in the workplace:

1. Don't touch me. EVER. Not on the back, not on the arm, and most certainly not on the neck.

2. I am not a secretary nor an assistant. Don't call me an assistant because I'm a female in an office and you're unsure of my title. Just because Mad Men represents the creative agency world doesn't mean that's how the industry still works.

3. Don't assume I don't know what you're talking about. Because I do. And if I don't, it's because I'm bored and simply don't care.

What's With the Young Guys?

I just had to come back to this blog. After a break to try and collect myself and become an adult, I couldn't resist sharing the ridiculousness of my life. It's just too damn ridiculous.

So, what's with the young guys lately? I generally date 5+ years above my age. But lately the younglings have been hitting on me without abandon. Like, 23 year olds. They are so young that I call them "cute" and I kinda want to pat their heads. And they try, they really try with earnest, to hit on me or whatever it's called, and I find it adorable. Isn't that amazing? Take that adorable kid and put 15 years on him and he's insta sleaze. Last weekend I found one young fawn's quest at my attention particularly confusing. Lanky, slightly urban-geek, wearing a cardigan and v-neck t-shirt. Obviously I assumed he was gay. A v-neck? But as we bantered and he what I thought was faux hit on me he became increasingly hurt by my playful tease. Suddenly he turned honest and said to me, "You know, I really like you and you're hurting my feelings right now." Yes, he really said that. Needless to say my friend and I bolted to the door as soon as he left for the bathroom.

So, I'm not complaining. Of course it's nice to get hit on. But okay now- can't I have someone in my target demographic come around?

The The Horrible Rotten No Good Very Bad Terrible Twenties.

Goodbye Terrible Twenties, Hello Terrible Whatever Comes Next

I obviously had no clue what I was doing when I started this blog. I think this is pretty clear.

For the most part I couldn't believe nor conceive the ludicrousness making up my twenties. So callow I had been to think after college life would unfold neatly into a pretty little row of experiences making up adulthood. As if college were a right of passage into a saner life- because truthfully- I never had a simple life. I've been running this never ending obstacle course through a circus freak show the whole way through. Sob story, I know. And if I can remember correctly my motivation for beginning this blog was in thinking I could not possibly be the only person out there believing much of this is just plain ridiculous (one of my grossly overused descriptors). And I'm a written word loud mouth with tons of use(less)ful opinions.

Personally I can use this blog as a historical reference. Not so easy to forget things when you have it conveniently recorded in the infinite Internet. Some of my posts even living infamously in my real life- the resulting danger of having anyone who knows you read your freely expressed thoughts. My attempt was to keep things in humor 90% of the time as this is all meant to be laughable, despite the times I couldn't manage a chuckle. Those instances flopped self-indulgently like the sitcom that tried to become a drama.. But believe me- there was an edit function. Tons of posts not published of things I really wanted to say but logic told me were not appropriate for my audience. Particularly the part of the audience who lives in my life with me. Blogs are dangerously easy tools to point out the truth of the matter, as when you write something down it becomes so vividly honest.

Although it certainly doesn't appear I had any semblance of rules or formality or reason to anything I've done here, I did promise myself something when I began. A tiny set of criteria. And I told myself that once one of these criteria became true- it would be time to end the blog about my horrible rotten no good very bad terrible twenties. I'm not generally one to follow the rules, but in this instance, I must oblige. Time to wrap it up. Wish I could tell you it was because suddenly I found my Oz of perfection in life, love and happenstance. That I was putting a bow on my packaged up terrible twenties and shipping it via Fedex to the past. Nope. Not happening. I'm pretty much still a disaster.

What have I learned though? I must have learned something through all this analysis! All this time spent blogging. I would say I learned 3 Things:

1) I hate other peoples lists. Lame f'ing Top Ten lists make me want to staple my hand. Yet I continually write my own stupid lists. I'm a total hypocrite.

2) MSN relationship and love advice defies all logic and intelligent thought. If I try to think of the stupidest, most least true solution to love it would be on par with the articles on MSN.

3) I no longer try and make sense of other people's love lives nor my own. We are all totally and uniquely crazy. There are no rules to this. Trying to fit into other people's rules is what ruins everything.

Good news is I've morphed into something else. I loathe to be cheesy, but it's as if I shed a skin and evolved into the next version of me. Ready to endure whatever mess my 30's brings me but with my battle scars reminding me the scrappy fights I fought. Ready to do something. Time to compile all this into a book and make a run for it. Time to start a new blog (because I can't just shut-up completely) Girl Twentiesh doesn't have the voice for. But this rather quirky and undefinable girl in this horrible rotten thing we call life is off to explore and learn more and screw up hopefully less. With many many dirty martinis of course.

Thanks for riding along...

I Don't Think I Like Bloggers

Watched the movie "Julia & Julia" and now I don't like bloggers. She was so egocentric. So self-involved. Yet, similar to me in the fact that she had attention deficit disorder in life projects. Every time she started something, rarely she'd finish. Then, I started to do the "next blog" tab and saw an alarming amount of blogs written by dark haired females for the sole purpose of showcasing their perfect family of five's day-to-day adventures. Those blogs laughed at me. I almost lost the contents of my stomach when I saw one woman's blog and her "100 Reasons I Love Myself" list. She actually listed 100! Suddenly I hate every list I've ever written.

A Moment to Recognize Chronic Cancelers

I would like to take a nice little holiday moment to recognize those whom are Chronic Cancelers.

While it's very convenient for you to book as much as you can in case there is the 2% chance you may actually follow through with your plans, it may shock you to know that this method is not as convenient for those you made plans with. Yes, this is correct, other people might be adversely affected by your actions. You see, on the other side is a person who also has a life! And when you cancel, that leaves them with their own scheduling conflicts to face. That time making up your life? All the creatures of the earth have that. Cancel once and awhile- totally understandable. But when the pattern becomes predictable you become someone who sucks just a little more than you did the last time.

(This is on behalf of all of those disturbed by chronic cancelers, sponsored by people who care).

*Note: I personally get over chronic cancelers after the 3rd offense. Then I just agree to plans but make my own back-up plans based on trending statistics.

Genius Quote of the Day

Comedian Whitney Cummings says via her Twitter account:

"Girls giving each other hi-fives makes me really uncomfortable."

I couldn't agree more Whitney.

The Life of a Really Cool Working Girl

30 minute commute (not too bad).

8 hours of work (no break).

60 minute workout (wow do I need a tan).

30 minute commute home.

Construction worker cleaning his work bucket in my shower. Is this standard?

Wine.

2 more hours of work while Top Chef reunion plays out of focus background to my computer.

Wine.

Contemplate finishing work, or waking up early? Blog about nothing really important.

Wow. This is what the life of a super cool working girl looks like.

Something to Ponder as You Navigate Relationships

Why is it that relationships feel like such a navigation? No compass to help out you find yourself lost over and over again from wrong turns, miscalculations, booby traps, poor communication and bad directions. Who am I kidding? We're lazy- most of us want a straight up GPS to tell us where it go. Maybe that's why we give up so easily.

Something I heard awhile back, and I can't for the life of me remember where to give proper props to the author of the thought, but that "to know somebody they have to know you back". I can't stop thinking about this. On one hand, it speaks to offering up the correct parts of you to really let someone know you. Not giving the true sense of you won't ever open the true sense of another. It also speaks to a reason to turn back and go another way from a relationship. If that person can't seem to get you no matter how hard you try to explain yourself, you'll never see clearly how to get them. Might be best to change navigation paths.

That's a lot of complex thinking for a Monday night. Clearly I think too much.

A Simple Life

Monday morning has me wondering- can't I just have a simple life? If somebody can fill me in on how to achieve this, I'm all ears.

Yeah...That's Not Working Out For You

Tiny tip....

While trying to pick up a lady, revealing in the most self-pitying manner that you hate your job (that you've been doing 6 years), are depressingly poor, a pessimist, your ankle hurts because you twisted it doing laundry, like to smoke lots of illegal things often and then asking her to make-out is not going to work for you. Time for a new strategy.

Need Help Identifying Big Lies?

In case you are in need of assistance in deciphering and identifying when a big fat lie is coming your way, here is a list of common indicators to help you:

1. Any statement that begins with, "I really want to, but..."(if they really wanted to, they would)
2. Claim that "it's natural" (generally used to hide the fact that is not, in fact, natural in act or appearance)
3. Anti-puff anything (anything claiming to de-puff you is a gross over exaggeration and blatant false advertising)
4. "I've never done this before" (yes, they have, although I have said this and meant it but I commonly do things I've never done before and then learn to never do them again)
5. "You look nice today" (commonly used as an empty buffer before asking for or demanding something)