I think having a personal style is cool. For example, I wear tons of black because it looks less fat. That’s cool. My husband dresses like an electrician. That’s cool. My sister dresses like a nurse during work because she is a nurse and BOHO when not at work because she likes the look. That’s cool. My niece dresses like a tween, wearing a lot of sparkly kittens and corny graphic tee’s that I don’t like. That’s cool. My dog dresses like a dog, sporting fur. That’s cool. I also know someone who dresses like an equestrian all the time. And I mean, that’s cool. But I don’t get it because she doesn’t ride horses and never has. She is not a jockey, in case you were wondering. But she is skinny (I only say this because most equestrians I see in the cinema are skinny. So aren’t jockeys). She always wears tight pants and riding boots, and sport jackets. Her hair is always in a low ponytail. She sometimes wears a helmet, and not for fashion. But not for horseback riding because again, she doesn’t ride horses. Her clothes are always freshly pressed and she has really good posture. I would call it “strong” posture. One time I saw her run in a road race, dressed like an equestrian. Her equestrian status is more than her wardrobe. It’s her aura. I once heard her sing “Walking in Memphis” sober at karaoke. I would describe it as “eloquent”. Sometimes I want to ask her “why do you dress and carry yourself like an equestrian, if you are not indeed an equestrian?”, but I don’t. Because you shouldn’t question someone’s fashion in such a quizzical manner. That’s rude. Some people are equestrians, and some just dress like equestrians.
People often email me to ask if it is possible to make money blogging. I figured I would answer it via blog instead. Because “how to make money blogging” are the internet search keywords I need in my life.
My short answer is: you can make money blogging, BARELY. The internet sort of lies and says you can make the big bucks by starting a blog. You can, but MOST bloggers do not make enough to quit their 9-5 and write for a living. Even if one of your posts goes viral, and your blog gets a steady readership of around five to ten thousand views per month, you’re looking at $20-$50 a month from Word Ads (Word Ads is the advertising platform WordPress.com uses). And before you can even use Word Ads you need to be approved by WordPress. Your blog must hit a certain number to even be considered for the ad program. The month my Quincy Boys post went slightly viral on the South Shore, my blog hit 42,000 views. That’s when I signed up for Word Ads. Before that, I probably wouldn’t have met the requirement. So again, $20-$50 on a GOOD month. That’s not so bad, but remember that you need content to keep up a following. And content means more writing. So you are writing up a storm for $20-$50. Oh, and you don’t get paid until you hit a minimum of $100 owed. And even when you hit that $100 (usually takes me 3 months), Word Ads pays out at random. You cannot rely on that money, because it can take weeks to see it in your Paypal account. In my opinion if you are relying that heavily on $100 every few months, you have bigger problems to figure out in life. Now if you want to get really into blogging, you could use WordPress.org and seek out your own ads. That’s a little much for me, so I just deal with low pay. Obviously it would be cool to make more, but I do it anyways because I really love blogging. You could say that I didn’t choose the blog life, the blog life chose ME. I guess. You need to really enjoy blogging to make any money at all, even if it’s just enough to pay a phone bill every 3 months. If you are blogging just to make money, you probably won’t make any. You will bore of keeping up with the writing part, and probably give up. That is, unless you write blogs about how to make money.
So yeah, that’s how you “make money blogging”.
You don’t! Unless you are Perez Hilton or someone of equal readership.
OR you could get creative and ask your readers to support your blog by giving you $2 dollars in royalties for every piece of drinkware purchased on Cafepress! I would NEVER do that, though. Hell no. (20% off with the coupon code GETGREEN at checkout!)
Yesterday I ran. Sounds like not that big of a deal, but I haven’t run since the dreaded “mile” in middle school. Back then I ran an 8 minute mile (although I did cut corners when running on corner lot front yards, so maybe it was more like a 8.30 minute mile). Now it’s more like 12 minutes. Yikes.
I’ve always avoided running like I avoided math while picking a college major. No really, I based my degree on how much math was required. Because life is a joke and so am I, because unbeknownst to me, Psychology required Statistics. As for running, there is just something terribly unappealing about being really out of breath, panting, and being in pain for 12 minutes with an ugly strained look on your bright pink face.
I’ve always envied people who can just get out there and run. My sister is a big inspiration for me when it comes to fitness. She LOVES working out. Actually, she said it’s less of a “love” of working out and more of an extreme guilt bordering obsessive disorder thing. Same difference though, right?!?! I sometimes see her skinny ass running around Quincy while I’m driving to pick up some vino. I beep and wave the other way, or yell “whore!!!!” out the window. Don’t cringe, it’s a term of endearment for sisters when one is fit and one is not. Happens every day. Sisters can say whatever they want to each other and still have to love each other. It’s the best.
Anyways, my sister has been asking me to run this St. Patty’s Day 5k that she ran in Marshfield last year. She is one of those people who runs road races, but not one of those people who run them just to smugly collect and wear all of the road race shirts. I like her for that because those shirt collecting people are the worst. We get it, you exercise. You donate and run for causes. Get out there and buy some real clothes, scrub. I was on the sideline the day of the last St. Patty’s Day 5k, drinking out of a discrete cup, lovingly screaming “WHORE!!!” as she breezed past me. I’ve decided I am absolutely not running any 5k’s because I happen to LIKE drinking and watching 5k’s and yelling “WHORE!!!”, but I have been consistenly going to the gym 5-6 days a week for the first time in my life (you can say “good job!” and “you go girl!” in the comments if you want, that’s fine). Usually I just use the elliptical until I hit 400-500 calories. If you think that’s some weak shit, you should have seen how sedentary my lifestyle has been since I got kicked off the swim team in high school. I’ve always been the girl to wait for new fad diets. And those have always worked for me when it comes to events, but as all non-exercisers know, they are never a long term fix. This year, coincidentally around New Years, but I swear it was not a resolution, I decided I can no longer wait for hunger suppressing drugs. I cannot purposely get addicted to cocaine for weight loss. Maybe in my early 20’s, but not in my late 20’s. I have to work out. So I got up and went to the gym, and I keep going back.
You know THOSE people that work out who always say it’s hard to get into working out, but once you have a routine, you will love it? They are not me. I still don’t enjoy working out. But I like how I feel after I work out. And I like Britney Pandora. And I like seeing my daily calorie intake increase on MyFitnessPal when I log my workout. Even if I don’t want to eat those calories, they are still there…so I can drink them. What I hate: running. Still. Every evening at the gym I think to myself “I am going to run today”. Then I don’t do it. I have actually been afraid of running. My fear is that I will get on the treadmill and run, then stop after one minute and the people on machines behind me will be all like pointing and yell out “do you even run, BRO?!” and I will be the laughingstock of the gym, and I will have to fast pace walk out of the gym using one of those Monday night pizza boxes to cover my face while gym rats throw gross sweaty paper towels at me. Irrational? You ever see the movie Carrie? Bitches will pour a bucket of pig’s blood on you if you’re a telekinetic witch freak who doesn’t know what a period is. God knows what gym nuts have up their 5K braggy sleeves for people who can’t run!!! A bucket of the sweat of one thousand feces infested swine, probably!!!
Yesterday, I was feeling like a big brave dog, a la Chuckie Finster. I hopped on the treadmill, and just ran. Kind of like Forrest Gump, but only for 1 mile, sans a beard. I didn’t walk at all, just ran. I had to hold my boobs during the last quarter mile because I wasn’t wearing a sports bra, and um, yeah. Rookie. It literally hurts. But I did it. I ran.
And you know what? It still fucking sucked.
I’m not single. And sometimes when I’m with my single friends, and hear what they sometimes have to deal with, I feel guilty about that. You know, when they aren’t doing whatever they please because they aren’t cooking Shake N Bake chicken for their husband who is working the overnights this week. I don’t even know who I am anymore. But the shit that girls (and guys…I guess) on the dating scene have to deal with makes me anxious. I am one of the “lucky ones” (I quoted that based on what some of this population of late 20’s women seems to want, I am not saying “lucky” based on my own view of “it happens when it happens if you want it to happen”), who by the grace of Tupac up above found someone who is psycho enough to get married under 30 (or at all), and despite what my mom tells me in birthday cards, I am not married due to any particularly charming personality traits that I exhibit. I just found someone whom I find somewhat difficult to get sick of, to take me on before my single friends found someone to take them on, and vice versa, because men can be projects. And by “can be” I mean they are.
As for me? I’m a stubborn bitch 4 out of 7 days, impulsive, a wino, complainy, easily stressed out, unrelenting, and I have a hard time pretending to be interested in stories that I find boring. That last one sounds like a joke but I find it so impressive when people can listen to boring stories and look enthralled, because it is extremely difficult to feign interest without my eyes glazing over. I also get really bad sleep paralysis and tell my husband that if he hears me heavy breathing next to him in bed, to shake me because I’m awake but temporarily paralyzed and the heavy/fast breathing is a cry for help because I can’t speak. I mean, that might weird some people out, not sure? Sounds kind of like baggage to me. My husband is just a freak with a stubborn-bitch-temporary-paralysis-wino fetish. This whole paragraph is starting to feel very long and negative and is also becoming a tangent about all things wrong with me and who wants to do that?! The point of this paragraph: I am no more special than my friends or anyone who haven’t found someone yet (and WANT to, just to be clear). It just happened to me first, which sounds cool if you’re competitive. But it actually just made me pave the way for expectations in bridesmaid choice. Sucks, actually.
So why do I feel so bad for single people these days? Mainly because of one of my own favorite modes of communication: texting. It’s awesome because it helps us get out of any unwanted chit chat. Don’t want to talk to someone longer than absolutely necessary? Send them a “K”. Don’t want to be too cold about it? Send them a “Kk!”. How very cutesy. Straight to the point. That is also why it is terrifying in the dating world.
Okay, I am going to explain a scenario as a Girl may see it from a textual point of view. Because I like to think that I have 27 years of being a girl and might have a little bit of insight.
Girl goes online. Signs up for Match. Girl sees Guy who is kind of hot in his default picture. (At this point, anyone who says that some level of physical attraction isn’t important or that it’s shallow can stop reading this and perhaps play a game of real life Solitaire, alone instead). Girl knows this picture is the best picture Guy has at the moment (as Guy also knows about Girl, no double standards here!). Girl hopes Guy reaches out because Lord knows she will. Guy reaches out after 3 days. Girl and Guy make plans to meet. They are both already out on a limb (recall that they know each other’s pictures are the best ones they own, so they don’t even know if they are being duped on a physical level). Guy and Girl have good time, with some awkwardness at the beginning that decreases as the drinks go down. Or maybe just one had a good time, or neither. Guy and Girl depart from one another, no promises made, just the impression they get from each other that it SEEMED like a good time was had by both. Or the impression that the feeling was not mutual, or that both think it went horribly. Girl goes home. Girl waits. Or doesn’t wait, but shrugs it off and doesn’t care, in which case she has to start over because she doesn’t care to know Guy based on Date #1. Girl might hear via text that Guy had a wonderful time, feelings are mutual, causing new plans to be made. Girl might hear that Guy had a wonderful time and still never see him again, not knowing if Guy was lying about having a good time. Girl might not hear from Guy ever again and can only speculate why. Girl might go out with Guy again and hear nothing after the 2nd date this time. Or 4th date. Girl might get texts after 11pm. Girl knows what Guy wants and ignores. No matter what the outcome is, the likelihood of it fizzling is greater than marriage in more of the instances than one. But that’s what dating around is for, to potentially find someone, unless one is looking for fun. Either way, Guy has no obligation to let Girl know what is going on or how he feels. Girl must wait it out no matter if a good time was had by none, one, or both. And if she doesn’t care to wait, then she starts the cycle again with a new Guy. Or she doesn’t. Who knows.
It’s a stressful and confusing pattern. Actually, it’s the opposite of a pattern. When people meet each other online, the only thing they are going off of is probably a deceiving picture and a short description of how the other person wants a potential mate (or at least fling) to view them. They have no idea what the other really wants. Then after they put themselves out there, there is either not caring and moving on, or waiting on the response from the other. While they might be polite during the initial date, they are both supposed to be on their best behaviors, causing the other to get a false impression of how the other felt about the experience. And if it went shitty, they might have no idea. They’ll find out from textual silence. Let’s not forget the ZERO OBLIGATION to one another. Assuming they have zero mutual friends, acquaintances, coworkers, ties to the other…if one feels they don’t want to talk to the other again, they don’t have to because there will be no repercussions. And why? It could be because Guy hated Girl’s personality/goals/lifestyle/face. Or Girl didn’t like Guy’s lack of resume, or the fact that he says “Fair enough” too much, or he lives at home. Could be a legit reason, or something total superficial and bullshit. Maybe Guy never texted because he got back together with an ex. Maybe a family member got sick. And Girl will go on questioning if she had something in her teeth.
When I was single, I liked my husband before he liked me. He says other wise, but I know from the stalking that is FALSE. Maybe rather than “I liked him first” I should say I acknowledged and confronted my feelings before he did, because common sense told me there was no way anyone would invest the time and effort he did in me while we were “talking”. While we saw each other all the time in person, with friends, we were careful about getting together at first due to complicated issues surrounding one of our ex’s, so we had a text thing going on for not even kidding, about a year before we got together. No, not sexting. Pervs. We just texted all the time and communicated about our status mostly through text because it felt safer. This year made me fucking BATSHIT. From days of entire paragraph texting to a week of just one word responses, hot and cold BULLSHIT. One day I texted him “ALL DONE! CAN’T BE FRIENDS ANYMORE! BYE FELICIA” (may have changed that a little, but that’s how I remember it now). The texting was making me think we were more. It was confusing me. Were we, or weren’t me?!?! I guess we were because we are married now and text only to ask if the other has fed the dog yet. Unless he just really wanted me to be his friend forever…
But it was different for us compared to the online singles or the singles that don’t know each other otherwise, because we were friends and had all the same friends and we owed it to each other and to our friends not to be total dicks because no one wants any awkward. There were repercussions for us. And even though our situation wasn’t as frustrating as it would be for others, it was enough for me to make me nuts.
Texting. There has to be an easier way! But at the same time, texting is so much fucking easier than waiting for a call on the landline and dealing with call waiting problems. Who had dating worse? Us with texting, or them with boom boxes and the “Hold on, I have a beep”‘s?! Sound off in the comments! Or don’t…I REFUSE TO WAIT!
The other night on the way home from the gym, my husband and I had to stop by Stop and Shop to pick up a few things. Not wanting to make my workout null and void by purchasing every single thing in the store, I decided to wait in the car. I gave him a pep talk before going in: “We need Kcups and milk. Those are the two key items. You can do this!”. He looked somewhat apprehensive for a guy who is probably one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. And I’m not just saying that because I married him, he’s a really smart guy. We were in the same Chemistry class in high school and the teacher would ask him to get up in front of the class to explain things the rest of us idiots didn’t understand. Like, what the fuck is Rubidium? My future husband knew, and I was just probably stoned in the back of the room playing Snake on someone’s Nokia. I like to think the teacher was just being a cougar creep, but deep down I know he’s just smarter than me at Chemistry – and the fact that I dropped that class hints towards that being true. It’s just these random menial bullshit housework-type tasks that dumb guys down to cavemen-like mentality. I’ll never understand it.
Anyways, he went in solo and a few minutes later came back and proudly announced that he not only got the Kcups, but they were on sale. Good for you! You not only got us Kcups on sale, but you earned us some gas points. Now let’s go home because my shows start in 12 minutes and we still need to pick up some wine.
Fast forward to the following morning when I went to make myself a cup of coffee before heading out to work. I grabbed the unopened Kcup box and glanced at it, to see what flavor my husband had picked out. This is what I read on the box “Artificial Cappuccino Flavored Drink Mix”. Stop and Shop brand. Obviously. I checked the back to read the ingredients, praying to see the word “caffeine” written somewhere. The only key words signaling that there might be caffeine in this “drink mix” was “instant coffee”. I made peace with the fact that I’d be making an extra stop on my way to work and jokingly texted my husband about his choice in “coffee”. His response: “That’s what you get for making me go in the supermarket alone”.
And you know what? He’s right. What the hell was I thinking?! You can’t just send your husband into the supermarket! Unless of course you want the following real list of things my own husband has bought when he has gone grocery shopping:
- 23 Celeste pizzas on sale for $1.
- 20 pack of Red Bull.
- Twizzlers Pull N Peel.
- Totino’s “Pizza Party” pizza (when he goes food shopping at Walgreen’s, this is his go-to. Yes, entire food order at Walgreen’s, you read that correctly).
- 5 Jimmy Dean Meat Lover’s Breakfast Bowls.
- 1 box Eggo Sausage Egg & Cheese sandwiches.
- 1 box Jimmy Dean Sausage Egg & Cheese sandwiches (because let’s try all the frozen breakfast sandwich brands, then review them?)
- Fruity Pebbles.
- Cocoa Pebbles.
- Whey Protein.
- Deli meat (just enough for 5 sandwiches for his work week).
- Toilet paper (goes hand in hand, hand to ass rather, with literally everything else on this list).
- Special K cereal bars (what the fuck? You going to have that as a snack in between your Fruity Pebbles and Cocoa Pebbles marathon? Is that when it’s time to get healthy?)
That’s all. That’s his grocery list. The up side is that it’s kind of endearing AND I stick to the straight oatmeal diet until I can get out and purchase some real food. Anything to help you shed some pounds, am I right?! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my delicious Cappuccino inspired drink mix before it gets cold.
I don’t know about you, but I find Facebook Yard Sale pages to be a social media phenomenon like no other. Local people buying or selling shit to other locals. Not a bad idea for people who want to sell something reasonable, like a coffee table that can be refurbished with a little elbow grease and paint, a working TV, Duck Hunt, anything that has a box and has been used no more than one time. But what makes Yard Sale pages special isn’t the understandable stuff people are selling. It’s all of the people who sell the weirdest crap that make Yard Sale pages awesome. Just last week someone was selling some gently used horns from King Richard’s Faire for $10 from last Summer or something. Like horns that you wear on your head.
First of all…what? Second of all, can I purchase one of those plastic trumpets from a shopping cart vendor at a parade and sell it on a Yard Sale page for a discount of $3 a year later? Because that’s pretty much the same thing. Or what about the souvenir cup that my booze came in when I went to see Wicked on Broadway 4 years ago? I’d say it’s in fair condition, the “W” in “Wicked” is peeling off slightly, but you can still use the cup for it’s intended purpose: you can pour liquid into it and drink from it. Maybe water your cactus with it. Whatever you do with cups, you can do with my Wicked souvenir cup. It cost me like $15 probably, so I’m willing to part with it for $4. I can even pour Bud Light into the cup for free. Although, you can’t utilize it for road sodas unless you use caution because the original cap and straw that it came with are lost.
It makes me kind of sad that people go the lengths they do to take a picture of and sell items like King Richard’s Faire horns, broken Coach wristlets from the 2003 catalog, half a bottle of Moonlight Path body lotion from Bath & Body works, a shovel that “just needs a handle!”, a BOGO deal on Beanie Babies – buy Waddles full price and get Bongo for free!, a 2011 4th of July tank top from Old Navy only worn once on 4th of July in 2011, a hamster wheel, a knock off North Face, or anything used Vera Bradley. It makes me sad not because I feel bad that some people really need between $5 and $10 to the point that they’ll meet up with a stranger in a Kmart parking lot to sell four already opened bottles of OPI. Nope. It makes me sad because these people don’t realize what trash is. No one in their life has told them that a quarter bottle of Jergens self-tanner from two years ago is garbage. Just throw the shit out. Save the money on the gas. Save the money on the time spent posting to the page (time is money, guys!!!). Maybe save your own life by not arranging a rendezvous with Jeffrey Dahmer to exchange cash for junk. Take it as a loss and realize that you can’t ask someone to buy your broken birdcage and tell them that with some TLC it can be used as a funky/modern bookshelf. It just can’t be done.
The problem is that Pinterest is giving everyone a false sense of confidence when it comes to upcycled shit. Forget the idea that you can get rich off of virtual Yard Sales and turn to the trash can for your problems. You might not get money out of it, unless you recycle. But at least you’ll declutter your life and my newsfeed. On second thought, throw nothing out. Keep posting it. I need your Yard Sale in my life.