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a single helping of thanksgiving dinner

November 21, 2014

there’s a reason you never see thanksgiving at miranda’s or christmas at charlotte’s.  i always wondered why we never saw holidays a la sex and the city.  it’s because for single girls of a certain age, the holidays don’t exist.  what does exist is a feeling that the entire world is spinning on without you.  people are laughing and hugging and playing that old fashioned wooden monopoly together and you are not a part of any of that happy.  you are contemplating whether to order domino’s or chicken fried rice and later you’ll debate whether it’s a low point or a perk of being single to make and eat an entire apple pie by yourself.

there’s a reason you don’t see thanksgiving at miranda’s.  and that’s because it would feature a single woman, in her college sweatshirt, sitting on her couch, holding a fork and an apple pie.  and that makes people sad.

it makes me sad that for single girls of a certain age, the holidays don’t exist.  but apple pie does.

basic.

November 20, 2014

signs that i’m the most basic of all basic girls on the planet:

  • i complain about not going to the gym
  • i’m obsessed with serial, the podcast
  • i drank starbucks and went to trader joe’s today
  • skinny jeans, like woah
  • i have a rescue dog
  • and drive an suv
  • i pet something faux fur today
  • and i’m eating trader joe’s sea salt & turbinado sugar dark chocolate almonds in bed

i would be troubled by all this…but these almonds are basically the best.  basically.

thanks, but no thanks

November 15, 2014

if not for her, i wouldn’t have a lamb cake on the easter brunch table.  i wouldn’t appreciate cheap costume jewelry quite like i do.  and i wouldn’t still be scratching my head over how to simultaneously underbake and burn pillsbury dinner rolls.  i wouldn’t be the hostess with the mostess (i learned that from her) and i wouldn’t have delusions of being miss america.  if not for her, my little family wouldn’t be the zany, loud, stubborn and tight knit crew that we are.  i wouldn’t know the strength and power of a single woman.  and i certainly wouldn’t have inherited my mischievous twinkle and love of wandering through grocery store aisles.

i still hear her in my head – usually chastising me for wearing a too-short skirt or reminding me to pick up peanut m&m’s to fill my candy jar.  i’ve missed her for the last 365 days. but i’m also proud to report that i successfully made her lamb cake and have piled on the costume jewelry and hostessed with the mostessed.  my family is still zany and loud and stubborn and tight knit.  and i have grandma r to thank for all that.

but no thanks for the pillsbury dinner rolls.  grandma, those were terrible.

u and me

November 13, 2014

today will forever be known as the day:

a.)  kim kardashian’s butt happened

b.)  i went to the zara store opening, stood in the checkout line, and didn’t buy anything

c.)  i read this and i felt like the universe just got me for once.  just this once it understood and it sent me a fresh, new zara and kim kardashian’s butt just to make life a little more interesting and a little more weird.  just because the universe gets me and it knows i would just die for a new zara and get a real kick out of kim kardashian’s rear.  you got me, universe.  and you got my backside and that’s what i like about you.

p.s. universe, i really want this:

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it’s from zara and i can totally swing through tomorrow and pick it up from the new store on my way home from work.

c is for…have a good day.

November 12, 2014

when you start your day with a homemade chocolate chip cookie…nothing can go wrong.  right?

the price we pay

November 11, 2014

i stood in line, tapping my foot, ready to take my {window} seat.  it was a big plane.  i was flying from baltimore to detroit.  so the typical, frustrating crush of passengers swarmed the gate.  boarding ahead of me was a gang of kids – younger than 20 years old.  i think it was the first time some of them had flown.  it was definitely the first time most of them had traveled alone.  two carried camouflage backpacks.  the tough kind.  not the kind you buy at old navy for back to school.  i was impatient.  i get so frustrated with people and their incompetence or inability to distinguish boarding zone 2 from boarding zone 84.  {these same people have difficulty understanding the space time continuum and why their time isn’t any more important than anyone else’s as they crowd the aisle the minute the fasten seat belt sign dings off upon arrival.  alas.}  so there i was.  frustrated.  and stuck behind a gang of teenagers.  my luck.

and then i happened to catch a glimpse of one of those ne’er-do-well’s bland manila folders.  on top of his boarding pass and checklist was a computer printed check for $23.  i don’t know why this stuck with me.

we got on the plane and took our seats and buckled up for takeoff.  i tried to zone out and popped in my earbuds and distracted myself with the skymall catalog in the seat back pocket.  but i couldn’t tune out the nervous chatter of those kids behind me.  now i was convinced.

this was their first time flying.  and they were on this plane – taking off and landing – on their way to basic training.  the flight attendant caught on too.  “pull low and tight across your lap…please keep your seat belt fastened while you are seated as we cannot always predict rough air…we’ll be serving complimentary soft drinks and pretzels…beer, wine and cocktails are available for purchase for $7…”

“and i’d like to take a moment to recognize our passengers seated in row 28.  they’re heading off to basic training…”

we clapped.  and all i could think was they are just kids and they volunteered for this job and all that got them was $23 and a round of applause.  and when this plane takes off they’re normal people.  and then this plane lands in detroit and they’re soldiers.  i didn’t want that plane to ever land.

i watch the minutes tick by on the clock at work.  i pound through seconds on the treadmill.  most times i’m impatient.  i tap my foot with frustration.  i count the moments, the breaths, the thoughts that whiz through my head.  but in 57 minutes those kids’ lives took on completely new meaning.

time really is of the essence.  it makes us who we are.  it separates us from what we were and where we came from.  it can change us into who we will be.  and 57 minutes was all that set those soldiers apart from being kids.  57 minutes.  and a government issued check for $23.

thank a soldier today.  and everyday.  and be grateful for every second of freedom.  because someone else paid dearly for that toe-tapping, clock ticking second.

blank space. and a red lip.

November 11, 2014

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i guess i understand because i’m blonde and perky and single.  my surface is glassy and perfect as a freshly zambonied skating rink – i don’t let people see the scratches.  i smile more than not.  i guess that’s intimidating and scary to people.  i guess it’s disconcerting and might raise a few eyebrows.  i guess people think that’s crazy.  i guess in today’s world that just might be crazy.  being settled and happy and young and not caring.

t-swift and i have that in common, right?  that and a terrible choice in men and splendid taste in red lipstick.

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