“Hi! Just wanted to say that you have a phenomenal smile.”
“Thanks! It’s my dad’s!”
I didn’t say that. I didn’t say anything at all. I don’t respond to anyone on dating websites. I’m not ready to date, you know that…
I feel like there is a certain age at which you are allowed (by society) to no longer give a fuck.
You can dress as you please. Speak as you please. Live as you please. And no one is looking for you to change. They accept that you are “set in your ways”.
This is an age at which you can flip the bird to a 10 year old and a 70 year old on the same block (only if deserved and with no fucks given).
There is no more”respect your elders” talk because, hell, you are an elder and you have lived long enough to know who deserves your respect and who doesn’t.
I have always been told that I am “an old soul” but I must say my “stay the fuck away from me, let me read and swing on the front porch” stage is starting far too soon…
Have you ever coughed so hard that you spit out your tampon?
That just happened… 😳
Roaming through the flea market is always interesting. Sometimes you discover treasures that you would never stumble upon anywhere else and other times you find a big, fat nothing.
I have a thing for incense, candles and other smelly goods, so I always make sure to stock up while I am there.
This past weekend, my boyfriend and I took his 9 year old son and 7 year old daughter with us to on our trip to Pecan Park Flea Market.
One of the tobacco shops has a wall lining the outside with over 100 types of incense. At ten for a dollar, I give everyone in the family two bags and tell them to fill them with their favorite scents. We spend at least 30 minutes perusing and testing the varieties. The kids are having fun smelling all of the smells and practicing sounding out labels like Lavender, Honeydew, Frankincense, or Night-time Jasmine Garden.
“Try that one.”
“Definitely not this. Shoo-wee…”
“I like the Raspberry one! Here! Try!”
We are all buzzing back and forth filling our bags with little, smelly wooden sticks when a tiny voice fills the air, “This one is weird…Ms. Amber, smell the p-p-pu-pussy”
I almost died.
“Ahhh.. a cat scented one!?”
but I had unemotional, quick (aka lame) sex last night and then woke up this morning to $100 bill on my nightstand…
(which may or may not be grocery money from Ty)
well… at least I got paid for my “effort”…
Maybe I am being overly sensitive, but someone shit in the bathroom of my personal office less than five minutes before I arrived back from lunch…
There are only three employees other than myself here today and there are five bathrooms in this office. Other restrooms (whose offices are not occupied) are vacant for the entire day to air out. But mine was chosen…
And right before I return? So that I can be punched in the face execpectedly on a full stomach? Fucking Yuck.
The older I get, the more that I try to purposefully weed out the negativity from my life.
I don’t want to be surrounded with people who droll on about the same issue over and over again and never do anything to alleviate it. I don’t like those who are constantly spewing other people’s business like it’s their own. I can’t stand girls who whine on about how their boyfriend (who has proved over and over again what a bag of shit he is) has been treating her shittily again but she never leaves the fucker..
wah wah wah…
How you react to a situation is everything. Your attitude determines more than your aptitude. (I think I read that on a poster in middle-school somewhere) And bad attitudes can be so infectious. In fact, I have come to a rather brilliant conclusion (if I do say so myself).
A bad attitude is like a large brown fart cloud that continuously follows you around. It is obvious and unpleasant for everyone near.
So tone that shit down. (see what I did there?)
While sitting at the Comedy Zone last night Ty & I overheard this guy say to his friend “Please…it’s a sure thing; I am about to bust this bitch wide open.”
Ty and I look at each other in shock.
“Well he is awfully confident.” I whisper in Ty’s direction.
“Must be on a date with a hooker,” he replies.
It turned out that he was the opening act…and he did in fact bust that bitch wide open. ShaneIsFunny.com <- (This is the guy!)
So when I checked my bank account earlier this morning, I was confused by a $31.97 charge by mochithings.com…
In the fashion of many drunken nights before, a haze of questions and re-tracking steps occurs.
Then something of a light 💡 bulb came to me…
When I was drinking 🍷 I ordered over $30 of sticky notes in the shape of 🐈 cats.
(palm to forehead)
Let me start out by letting you know that I am going to get way inappropriate in the duration of this blog.
Like way, wayyyy too deep.
Like my sex life, personal problems, political opinions (not really), family issues, and even the stupid, selfish, whiny moments that should not be spoken of will be written down in the context of the internet forever. Because I am an overshare-er, that’s why.
Plus, I am on my second bottle of San Sebastian’s Vintners Red, so that helps. It’s a local wine that is honestly way too sweet to be called a Red wine but it has an 11% alcohol content and the fancy name makes me feel classier about consuming two bottles in their entirety during one sitting.
What a great place to start…