Day Something Or Other - 10 Ways To Win Your Heart

10 Ways To Win Your (My, Apparently) Heart


Hooray!!!  FINALLY a post that asks for fun and games and not me ripping my soul to shreds for  about 30-odd people per post!!! (although I am immensely grateful to each and every one of you for reading them! xoxo)

;)

Now, hopefully, this ends up being a "How-To" manual for Ryan Gosling or similar super-hot scrumdiddlyumptious non-felon sex-maniacs with American Express Centurion cards .



Knowing my luck, scores of schmucks that currently reside in their mom's basement and strip while wearing one of their nephew's cast-off Halloween costumes will be blowing up my Facebook page with declarations of love, but whatever....just another Thursday, right?

That's how I look when I am turned on too, Pheebs!

ANYway.....here are 10 ways to win the heart of a formerly adorable redhead, who is now a just-over-the-brink-of-middle-aged-chubby-Snark-oleptic-wrinkly-glitter-headed-single-mom (wow---what a catch; the Match.com ad writes itself!).



1.  Don't be a dumbass.  Smart ass, yes please; dumb-ass---thank you, drive through.  We all know -- or should by now -- that I LOVE me some geeks!!!  You gotta have something going on upstairs if you want me to hang out with you downstairs....or some other slightly less chi-mo sounding smart = sex analogy.  If you can't have an intelligent conversation with me about current events, politics, books, sports, or anything besides your net worth or how many calories you don't consume in a day, keep on truckin' Joe-Bob, I am sure there is some soap-fan waiting for you to sweep her off her feet.

No need to caption.....although I just did!

2.  Be funny.  And, I don't mean, 'dick-joke-funny'.  Yes, jokes about small dicks and ugly dicks, and guys that are hung like a tuna can are HILARIOUS, but if your sense of humor starts and stops in the 6th grade, well, you can go fuck yourself....if you can find it, that is.  A big fan of sarcasm, irony, and South Park am I.  And if you can't laugh at yourself, then you better grow a bigger penis (or self-esteem--aren't they the same in Man-ville?), because I will sure as hell be laughing your dull ass right out the door.

This will NEVER get you laid....N.E.V.E.R.!!!

3.  Be big.  And that, my friends, is no dick joke.  That is no euphemism, simile, or metaphor  (ps - if you had to GTS on ANY of those words, you may as well stop reading.  No, seriously, buh-bye!), that is literally how you must be.  I have a straight-up Napoleon Complex....or maybe a Dorothy Parker Complex (she was 4'11"!!!!), and I think I am 10 feet tall and bulletproof....I have only dated a few guys that were not 'stocky' or 'big-boned', and I seriously cant imagine doing so ever again....BTW, both of the numbskull-gobshites that I regret dating were under 5'8" and under 180 lbs....so there is that as well.


http://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/news/a35545/reasons-sleeping-with-a-husky-guy-is-the-best/

 It would help if you were big AND Mr. Big!!!

4.  Like being outside.  I cannot understand city people, even though I tried being one for years, until I realized I am and always will be a hippie Ridge-girl at heart.  Every morning--rain, shine, below freezing, or baking hot-- I have to go outside and walk in the dirt and grass and leaves; barefoot, of course.  I have an absolute need to dig in the dirt, roam through the woods, climb trees, and lay under the great big sky.  I can't even fathom a life lived between an office, a high-rise, and a series of restaurants and cafes--no matter how much I wish I was Samantha Jones.  There is a part of me that is so at home baking on a rock by the river, or wading a freezing lake.  Chlorinated swimming pools and hot tubs make me want to throw up.  I need to be able to smell fresh air, get my feet dirty, and pick flowers for my hair....and if you can't at least hang for the hike....well, gg-gga-ggiga-gggooodnight, yo. 

This would have been bare feet in the woods, but you know how I feel about that.....

5.  Know how to fix shit.  If you have appliance repairmen, painters, roofers, landscapers, and carpenters that handle your problems, we cant hang.  I draw the line at plumbing and electrical problems---you are a dumbass if you try to DIY that--but, if you have to call someone to take apart your washer or dryer, call someone to unclog your garbage disposal because your mother-in-law ran potato peelings down it on Thanksgiving, call someone to level your backyard and plant grass, or call someone to repaint your house....well, I am not gonna respect you; in the morning or any other time of the day.  I am a self-taught Miss (Ms, at my age, I guess...booh!) Fix It, and I can't really respect (i.e., go shopping with) a man that has to rely on another man to keep his house in line.  YES, you could probably find better things to do with your time, but if we are stuck in the middle of nowhere and you have to call AAA because you can't tell a lugnut from your left nut, I can guarantee you are dropping me at my house and never picking me up again.  I can, and have, changed tires in the rain and snow, put chains on my own tires, and the tires of the lady next to me in the minivan, replaced a serpentine belt in the middle of the night on a road 20 miles from the nearest streetlight with a flashlight tucked under my chin, and I expect any man I hang out with to do the same....except the serpentine belt thing; that is SUPER hard, and man-hands do not help--trust me, I have 2 of them!



Yes, please!




6.  Be good in bed.  Do I NEED to explain this?  I'm going to abridge this, because I am secretly a prude about some things (no, for real!).  Here's some advice, and I'm gonna do this fast because otherwise I will chicken out:

A-clitoris-is-not-a-worry-bead-don't-rub-it-into-oblivion-you-have-hips-for-a-reason-figure-out-that-they-go-more-than-two-directions-probing-tonsils-with-your-tongue-is-not-a-kiss-a-well-timed-smack-on-the-ass-is-a-good-thing-slow-and-steady-wins-the-race-but-sometimes-hard-and-fast-does-the-trick-we-like-nooners-and-quickies-as-much-as-you-do-and-being-on-top-makes-things-better.  Whew!  Got all that, 'cause I am not repeating it (unless you are Matt Damon, and then I am afraid I must keep you after class for Remedial Lessons!).

You're doing it right.....

7.  You can be sensitive, but DO NOT FUCKING CRY!!!  Good. Lord.  who was it that told men they should get in touch with their feelings and cry???  Look, if you are (ew!) watching a child come into the world, feel free to turn on the waterworks.  Lost a family member?  Cry away, my friend, I will even lend you a tissue, and cry along with you.  Pet crossed the Rainbow Bridge without you?  I will let you weep all over my shoulder.  However.   If we are having a disagreement and you think it's all over...well, you can be sad, sure.  If you are boo-hooing around the house, yammering on about how Mummy never loved you enough, if you are tearing up because you think it makes you look sensitive, or you are sobbing over some shit that won't matter in five years...well, in the words of the totally rad Richard Pryor (as quoted by the amazing Eddie Murphy), I am gonna tell you to have a 'Coke and a smile and shut the fuck up'.  You know how guys get all out of sorts when women cry and feel guilty and bad and ready to do anything to dry her tears and make it stop?  Well, it's the same thing for me.  Without the guilt and the doing anything.  I will hand you a tampon, a Kleenex, and show you the door.  The. End.

Ugly Cry Face Knows NO Gender.

8.  Read.  I don't care if it is instruction manuals (chuh! right!), Chilton Repair Guides, Playboy (for the articles, yo), or even Motor Trend.  Just. Read.  Because reading is rad.  And I don't really need to qualify this.



Truth.

9. DO NOT let me walk all over you.  I am an exceptionally stubborn, headstrong person....if you were too dumb to notice that, well, I can't help you.  I am smarter than most people, more articulate than everyone, and am a walking talking (but humble, obvi!) bulldozer.  Most men think, "Well, if I let her have her way and shut up, she will like that."  Wrong.  Dumb Ass.  I actually need to be shut down periodically.  I actually like being told to calm the fuck down.  I actually want someone to not say 'How high' when I snap my fingers and say 'Jump'.  Clearly, if it's important to me, I expect you to drink a long, tall glass of shut-the-hell-up and let me do me....If you throw yourself on the ground and say, "Yes, ma'am, I will do whatever you want, whenever you want", I will - of course - pat you on the head and coo over how totally adorbs you are.  I may also take you shopping a time or two.  In the long run, however, you will find yourself face-down in the dirt, with me carefully wiping my feet in your hair (if you expected me to say 'on your back', that is wrong, your hair is a much better medium than your T-shirt for getting the BS off my stilettos!!).  I don't want, need, or wish to waste my prodigious Kung Foo skills on some caveman that tries to impose his will on me....that doesn't mean I want some flaccid, spineless whelk blobbing around in my orbit, kissing my ass all the time.  Figure it out, you aren't an idiot! (See #1)


Yeah...that'll help....

10.  If this is you, below, (or you are TC) none of the above rules apply.  Line forms to the right......




Yep!

Uh-huh.

Of course!



              

*sssssssssiiiiiiiiigggggggghhhhhhhhhh* We have a WINNER!!!





Day 2--30 Day Challenge

How Have You Changed in the Past 2 Years?

Wow.  This one was a doozy, guys.  I tried to write this one about 500 different times today.  I tried to be flippant and joke about my hair and weight and wrinkles, I tried to keep it light and breezy, and I tried to gloss over things, but there is one cardinal rule to great writing (not that I think this will be great, exactly)—and to life in general:

"Tell the truth, tell the truth, tell the truth"

— Sheryl Louise Moller

To really bring light to the changes I have gone through in the past 2 years, and adequately express myself, I need to set the scene….

****Cue Imperial Death March**** 

2 years ago, I was a couple of months out of a disastrous relationship….I am not a ‘disastrous relationship’ kind of gal, mind you.  I am friends with nearly every person I have ever dated-- and when I say ‘friends’, I mean just that.  As in, ‘I would LOVE to have lunch with you and your new girlfriend/meet your fiancee/babysit your kids on Friday’ kind of friends. Also,  I don’t usually date idiots, mama’s boys, whiners, wieners, schmucks, morons, or douche bags.  

Until. I. Did.

 

Even someone as dumb as this baby would not have dated this dude.

I am not going to give you all the dirty details, you will have plenty of opportunities to judge me as this thing chugs along, so I will summarize:  Every one of my friends thought he was an idiot.  My oldest daughter loathed him.  My baby sister (who is a daughter, best friend, brattiest little sister in the world, antagonist, and partner-in-crime, all rolled into one) got terrible vibes about him and used to beg me to not date him because she was convinced something awful was going to happen.  He wasn’t violent or abusive–just immature, petulant, jealous, mean, petty, and –right at the very end-I think a rampant pill-popper…..  At any rate, one day I listened to him bitch, moan, and whine on the phone, and I thought about what I would do if any of my girls was dating someone like him, and that was it.  I was done.  

Just. Like. That.  

Unfortunately, he was not.  

Literally said this to me in a text.....

What followed was months of stalking…..text messages, email, voice mail, faxes, stuff left at my door step, etc.  I even talked him into moving 2,400 miles away (I am that good, ya’ll, I really am!), and he kept contacting me, walking into my office unannounced when he visited his kids, and in general causing me to be as paranoid as a crack-head at a Policeman’s Ball.

Keeping up?

2 years ago, this is what was going on:  Factor 1:  Psycho ex stalking me.  Factor 2: Guilt over allowing that relationship to drive a wedge between me and the people I loved.  Factor 3: MAJOR self-doubt/self-loathing at allowing the relationship to happen in the first place, much less drag on for 2 years.  Factor 4:  I was fat.  I was eating constantly, partly to cope with stress (yes, yes, I have been known to eat my feelings—and by ‘feelings’, I mean ‘Krispy Kreme’s and pizza’- don’t you judge me.), and partly because I figured that, if I was fat, I would not have to worry about getting in any more relationships, as there are very few men that want to date a little meatball with a brassy red afro.  Factor 5:  I was working in an industry I loved, with a group of people I adored, in a position that I was neither suited for, nor brought me even a shred of satisfaction or joy.  Factor 6:  There may—just may—have been some drinking and smoking going on.  Copiously.  Factor 7: Constant worry about out-of-state family members and their physical and mental declines.

Basically, I was in a place where the only thing that kept me functioning, breathing, and getting out of bed was my Little Roo.  She is truly one of life’s characters, and as resilient as they come.  I spent weeks and months smiling and smiling and smiling and making sure everything about her waking hours was sunshine and lollipops and angels shitting glitter from the sky.  But, I really felt that something was going to have to give, or my brain was going to leak out of my ears while I slept.

Too much has happened in the past 2 years to give details about, but here is a summary:

-Moved to the wilds of Northern CA, back to my hometown.

-Lived on an off-grid farm, grew my own food, played with animals, and hiked in pristine woods with no people around for miles--This was the view from about 30 feet out my front door:

This photo was totally used with Brett's permission and not at all stolen from my sister's FB page!

-Hiked, swam, and played at the Yuba River (GTS, guys, it is AH-MAYZE-ING!)

-Got a job working with the best damn group of people anywhere…ANY. EFFING. WHERE. www.nsjfire.org

-Developed a crush on someone completely inappropriate, and had to see this person constantly and just, like, drool into my coffee mug and try to make coherent sentences on the few occasions I had to talk to him, all the while making sure no one found out. (Gotta tell you, as a major flirt and a sliiiiightly promiscuous hussy *formerly—on both counts*, it was very bizarre and uncomfortable for me to do those things)

-Sat on the roof at night with Lexi and my nephews, underneath a velvet-black sky, just marveling at the stillness, the vastness of the universe, and the sheer number of stars you can see when there are no lights for miles.

-Hung out with a bunch of amazing family members and friends that I hadn’t seen for years.

-Went days and weeks without makeup, hair dye, shaving, watching TV, wearing nice clothes, or fixing my mangled nail polish, and loved it.

This chick is a bit more attractive than me, but you would not BELIEVE what happened when I Googled "dirty hippy chick"  DON'T DO IT!!!!

All in all, I spent 18 months rebuilding fractured family relationships, painting and redecorating the interior of my parents’ house, working on their property, living close to nature, breathing clean air, chilling with goats, dogs, cats, and rabbits (as well as skunks, bears, thieving-ass deer, and birds EVERYWHERE!), meditating, hanging out with Lexi and her crazy friends, making new friends, reconnecting with old friends, and really trying to ‘fix’ my family-- failing spectacularly--but having the time of my life.  Ha.

Mike Tyson said that.  Go figure.

About mid-August, the karma fairies showed up, and apparently I was either Attila the Hun, Pol Pot, Vlad The Impaler, or, like, Bill Cosby or Paris Hilton in a past life, because things went a little sideways, then a little more, then a little more until - quite suddenly – it was imperative that I move back to the PNW...  Immediately.  In that lovely time period, my beloved uncle-- the only brother to my loopy mum and her wild sisters, the only father figure most of my cousins and their kids had for years, and just an all-around decent human being – suddenly died a couple of days before Thanksgiving.  No words to describe how absolutely fucking awful that was and continues to be for my family...

Now, you could make the argument that not much has changed for me from 2 years ago…..Chaos?  Check.  Family turmoil?  Check.  Single?  Check.  Chunky?  Check. (But not as bad as 2 years ago…no Krispy Kreme in NSJ!)  Career up in the air?  WHAT career?!?  The only difference is I know this:

Do I know how I changed in the past 2 years?  Not really.  I do know a couple of things, though, and I am going to share them with  you, because they are the only things that have kept me sane lately, and –because I know them—I know I am going to be just fine 2 years from now, and 2 years after that, and 2 years after that! 

1.       There is a reason they tell you to put your oxygen mask on before attempting to help anyone else in a plane emergency--- you can’t help anyone if you can’t breathe.  This is true, I’ve been there repeatedly.

2.      Every chance you get to go out into the trees, into the woods, to the lake, the river, the mountains, etc., DO IT!  Humans, in general, are horrifically disconnected from the natural world, and that is just silly.  Even if you can only go in your back yard and take your shoes off and walk in the dirt and grass for 10 minutes---DO THAT!  Seriously.  You will thank me later.  You're welcome.

3.      Life is all about choices.  Trite, yes?  Truth.  You choose who you allow to drain your energy, you choose to eat pizza instead of a salad, doughnuts instead of fruit and nuts, you choose to take your kids to the mall where the air is dead and lifeless and the lights unnatural, instead of taking them to the park or the woods or to play somewhere in the sunshine.  You choose to read tabloid magazines and compare yourself -unfavorably- to airbrushed photos of people with entire teams devoted to getting that one picture just right.  You choose to focus on what you don’t have instead of being grateful for every damn step you take on your two (probably ugly and gross) feet  (sorry, I don’t mean that your feet are ugly and gross—just all feet.  Including yours.), the roof over your head, and all of the other amazing things in your life.  Make better choices, and you can change your world.

4.      Don’t take yourself so damn seriously.  I am going to give you a little spoiler about my life.  And yours.  We die at the end.  Every. Last. Fucking. One. Of. Us.  What you do between now and then…..that’s all up to you.  Make it amazing.

5.      Ryan Gosling Is super-hot and I was going to put another shirtless picture of him right here, but I decided to leave you with some words of wisdom from my hero, idol, and muse….