It's Hard Out Here For a Pimp

Valentine's Day brings total anxiety to most people. 

Basically me every Saturday night.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't one of them.  This anxiety mostly comes from the realization that high school never ends (as if you didn't know that already).  You know those magical moments where you had to witness countless girls (who were never you) get these huge, elaborate bouquets of flowers or chocolates or chocolate flowers.  And then they wear their huge, stupid grins on their faces for the rest of the day like they're the Queen of friggin' England.  WE GET IT!  YOU'RE BETTER THAN US!  I scream the same thing in my head even now when my co-workers get the same gifts and then some.  Someone I know got a singing telegram once! (Yes, I'm talking to you Becky.  I remember everything.)  So what's my point?  My point is, that no matter how much us single gals deny it, this holiday makes us do crazy things.  Such as: sending flowers to one's self, binging on obscene amounts of chocolate, or...joining a dating site.  I did the last one.  I know.  I KNOW.  I've done this whole dance before, and it's been fruitless but the crazy in me just won't let it go.  Which brings me to a few tips for those on online dating sites looking for potential mates.

TIPS ON HOW TO NOT CREEP PEOPLE OUT ON DATING SITES

Tip #1:  Actually show pictures of yourself.  I've seen profiles with no pictures, pictures of half faces (and not in an artsy way), pictures of their favorite cartoon hero.  I once came across a profile that stated he refused to post a picture because judging someone on their looks was wrong.  I'm putting that lightly.  He went on a 5 paragraph rant about how he just wants someone to love him for him and not judged on his looks.  He then spent 2 paragraphs describing what he finds physically attractive in women.  Which brings me to tip #2...

Tip #2:  Nothing says 'I'm a douche' more like taking shirtless pictures of yourself in the mirror while at the gym.  We get it.  You're fit.  You have muscles.  High five.

Tip #3:  If you're looking for a gal to run the miles or hike those trails with you, I ain't your girl.  I don't know if you paid attention to the picture of my chubby face or if you ignored the fact that my profile has subtle 'THERE IS NO WAY YOU WILL GET ME TO GO CAMPING WITH YOU' under tones, but I'm sorry to say I have no interest in becoming one with nature, no matter how much you think you might be able to convince me other wise.  That's not to say I won't go for walks with you, especially if Audrey comes along, just don't expect me to frisbee golf with you.  (But admittedly I have no idea what frisbee golf is.  I might like it.  I like frisbee...What?  I'm complex.)

Tip #4:  When viewing a girl's profile that professes the love of all animals, especially dogs, it's best not to start an email out with: 'If we get together and things get serious, you could never get a dog.  We could only have cats.  I hate dogs.'  You think this is fake.  It is not.  I actually got an email like this. 

Tip #5:  If you can afford to pay for an account on a dating site (which ain't cheap, lemme tell ya) you should also have a job.  If you're not independently wealthy or have a money tree no one knows about, please don't be surprised when you're not getting a lot of dates off of  'I don't have a job and I still live with my parents.  Also, I'm 45.'  Hard times fall on us all, I get it.  But maybe you should be saving the $200 for something more important and meet someone on the street.  Where it's free.  Except in that one part of town.

So in conclusion people, I'm in for some trouble and I've paid for a year's subscription, so I'm sure this blog is about to get a whole lot more interesting.  Or tragic.  YOU BE THE JUDGE! 

(Speaking of judging, my blog has hit over a 1,000 views! Thanks Mom!)

Happy Valentine's Day, Y'all!  And remember, you're not the only one in the world eating chinese food in your bed while watching the black and white pilot episode of The Walking Dead, with your dog on Thursday.  YA! YA!

I May Be Drunk on Apple Cider K-Cups

Are you feeling crappy and sinusy? (Is that a word? Spell check says no.)  Do you like Apple Cider K-Cups?  Do you like high fives?  Is your sister making you dinner right now?  If you answered yes to any one of these or all of these, I deem you awesome.  And because you're awesome you probably know there's a new episode of 'New Girl' on tonight.  Remember, this happened last week:

 

 

AHHHH!!!  I KNOW!!!  I'M TYPING IN ALL CAPS!!! What?  You don't watch 'New Girl'?  What's wrong with you?  Seriously.  Do you just not like hilarity?  You must because you read this blog, so what's up?  START BEING AWESOME!  And put a dollar in the douch bag jar.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And that's basically the point of this blog today. BYYYEEEE!!!

 

 

This Is Not a Test

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I got my hair did!  That is all.

 

 

Craft Mac n' Allison

Buying a new house really puts you in the mood to do crafty things.  And eat Doritos.  But don't do both at the same time because you'll get those nasty cheese fingers all over your crafts.  Unless that's what you're going for.  My first craft endeavor are these awful dressers Andrea gave to me when I moved into her home.  She bought them at K-Mart and boy, could you tell.  The bottom of the drawers were literally just card board.  That made it fun to put clothes in them.  Too many clothes and the bottom would fall out, so you're putting like 2 items of clothing in the drawers and now you need 50,000 drawers just for your sweat pants.  That's just counting your fancy sweat pants.  But of course, when I try to remove the inserts, they're like the best drawer bottoms ever that will never ever leave their beloved stupid drawers.

So I went to Lowes, with the card board inserts so that there would be no doubt in the measurements that I had written down, and got all the bottoms I needed.  I didn't splurge for the real ply wood.  That ply wood sheet was like $30!  These are $15 dressers!  For a set of 3!  So I got the fancy, faux ply wood that was only $8 a sheet. WOO!  Then I went home and installed the bottoms.  Then I waited 2 weeks before I decided to do anything else, because that's how I roll.  (What?  It's not like I'm on T.V. here)  When I did muster up the gumption to do more, I decided it was time for paint.  What kind of paint did I use?  The free kind.  Andrea had some white paint and I had paint color samples (that I got for free!  Did I mention free?!).

Instead of typing the follow process down, there should have just been a video.  Because it was hilarious.  The drawers weren't really an issue, they went pretty smoothly.  The dresser tho.  That bitch took 4 coats of paint.  And!  When I was doing awesome detail work, the paint on the entire top of the dresser just peeled right off.  Like an orange.  Did I mention this was into the 8th hour of painting?  Yeah....I had to walk away for the night.  But the next day I did a couple of coats on the top and called it done.  At least one of the three are.  Ugh!  There are 2 more!  I quit.  Just kidding.  Maybe next weekend...Oh!  Here are some before and after pics!

 

There it is.  Standing there all coy and ugly.

 

 

 

My awesome photography skills people.  The drawers are a mint green and the pull knobs are purple.

 

 

I was afraid my color scheme would scream, 'A 7 YEAR OLD GIRL PUTS HER CLOTHES IN HERE!'  But I dig it.  Suck it haters.

Does This House Come in Pink?

I have some terrible news.  I...am a grown up.  I know.  It came as a shock to me too.  The exact moment that it happened was when I decided to buy a house.  And then I did.  And like all grown up things, buying a house sucks.  My new mantra is that getting a marriage license should be as difficult as buying a house.  That makes me sound like I'm against marriage.  Which I'm not, I just think some people rush into it and then are surprised when they're divorced 2 years later.  And how easy is it to get a marriage license?  Like, $45 and a couple signatures?  Pssh.  You should have to do that AND pass an agility course.  With flaming rings to jump through.  While singing The Star Spangled Banner.  Backwards.  That's love people. 



I literally googled 'Flaming Hoop Jumping' to get this picture

                                          
Back to what I was saying: buying a house is hard and stressful and it's amazing what you learn along the way.  For example, I have learned that some house sellers are douche holes who's goals are not really to sell their house but to give you gray hair and then hit on you.  It's like kindergarten all over again.  And I won't name any names but if anyone is buying a home in Cross Lanes, shoot me an email with the address to see if I need to warn you, because I'm nice like that and would like to save you time and $450 on an inspection. 

I have learned that if you're a single lady looking to purchase a home, people who don't know you might wonder if you're a lesbian.  They can't just come out and ask it of course but their eye flares when asking seemingly innocent questions give it away.  "The second bedroom might be small but it's not like you're planning to use it right away, (eye flare) so you can cross that bridge once you come to it.  It IS just YOU moving in...right? (eye flare)  And that banister would be an easy fix for you or your...(eye flare) handy man.  Do you wear flannel shirts often?"  Okay the flannel shirt statement didn't happen but the rest of the sentence is accurate.  In 30 seconds they pointed out that I don't have any children, I am buying a house by myself, and that I'll either be butch enough to fix stuff or I'll have my girlfriend do it.  Some people might laugh and explain that there is not man in their life right now, but it doesn't really matter because they can fix things themselves.  How do I approach it?  By remaining silent and evading questions that would give any answers on the lesbian front because A.  it's none of their business if I'm straight or not, I'm still buying the damn house so who really gives a crap. and B.  because it's fun to watch nosey people squirm.


                                  
                                        I bet Beyonce doesn't have these problems.


I have learned that the bank lady might will judge you on your countless McDonald's purchases while she reads your past bank statements.  After a long enough pause you might be tempted to say, "But crack is so expensive these days."  or  "Do you really need that statement to see how much McDonald's I've been eating?  Come on.  This body wasn't gotten by yoga."  or possibly resort to a Chris Farley impersonation: "LAY OFF ME! I'M HUNGRY!!!"  But don't say those things because honestly you've brought the silent judging on yourself.  From now on just vow to only pay for those delicious meals in cash.

My fun house buying learning is far from over.  It's only in the beginning stages and I'm sure I'll have much more to add to the ever growing list that a home buying education is giving me but I'm in a holding pattern; waiting for things that are now out of my control.  Until then I will be blowing up Pinterest for DIY techniques, which let's face it, is much less annoying than women you follow that don't have a boyfriend but have 3 boards devoted to their wedding ideas.  And I will also be attending free classes at the ReStore to learn nifty things like how to install a ceiling fan and how to make sure the wiring in your home won't kill you.  Because as my best friend just pointed out, 'You sound pretty sexy when you're talking about construction.'
                                 

An Awkwardly Single Conversation

The following is a conversation between friends. 


Me: 'We need to meet boys.  Well, I need to meet boys and I need a cool wing man who isn't going to steal said boys away because you're attached.  Foreseeable problem: I hate bars and we're both light weights.  Also, we hate people.

Nikki: 'That's exactly what I was thinking!!  Maybe we should troll movie theatres.'

Me: 'Foreseeable problem: 'The Hobbit' is out so we might actually meet trolls.'

Nikki: 'Damn.  Meeting dudes is hard.'

Me: 'Right??  I'm been single for (time frame left blank to protect the blogger's ego) ____.  Bars suck, I work with chicks, online dating is not only expensive both in time and money and it's typically fruitless, and I'm a hermit.  The only logical solution is being set up by friends but you all are either married, have no viable friends, or are too busy.  So thanks bitches.  Also Joseph Gorden Levitt needs to realize he loves me.'


(Nikki has not responded since my last comment.  I assume she's finding J.G.L.'s number for me.)

I May Get A Face Tattoo.

Recently it's been brought to my attention that I am not 'dangerous enough'.  That statement was brought on by a sneaky set up that one of us was not in the know about (him) and then when later grilled as to what he thought of the girl that randomly showed up at his aunt's home for Thanksgiving, following his sister around like a scared kitten, the phrase, 'Not dangerous enough for me' was born.  This statement confused his sister leaving her to ask 'What does that even mean??' but I knew exactly what it meant.  And of all the rejections I've had in my 28 years of existence it's actually one I'm okay with. If I can be described as anything, 'dangerous' is certainly not going to be one of them.  The following are examples on behavior that makes me feel dangerous:

- Making eye contact with a hitch hiker.

- Sometimes forgetting to brush my teeth before I go to bed at night.

- Online dating.

- Watching scary movies at night, in an empty house, that is most definitely already haunted.

- Eating at buffets.

- Paying my cell phone bill 2 hours before deadline.

- Dying my hair shades that may not be natural for most people...that aren't aliens or mystical ponies.

- Eating raw cookie dough.

- Eating Taco Bell.


I. Am. Bad. To. The. Bone.  Children cross the street when they see me.  Bikers say to each other, 'Don't cross Mrs. Allison!  That chick be loco!' (also those bikers are in a cartel. obviously.)
So yeah, I'm not the most dangerous person, and I never will be.  I have accepted a life of the good girl and hopefully karma will one day reward me when a man who values that.  And let's face it.  'Not dangerous enough' is WAY better than 'She might have herpes.'  True Story.