I’m very close

I’m very close to buying my mom an eHarmony subscription, account, dealio. The woman has been single for…25 years. I am 25 years old. You do the math. (I only give you easy problems) I can’t even imagine my mom with another man. It weirds me out a little. But I want it for her. I want her to be happy (happier). Let me explain.

For years the reason for her singledom has been that she’s happy with her life and she doesn’t need anyone. She has said that sometimes she gets lonely, but not enough to put up with another person.

My mom has been married twice. She was not married when she got pregnant with me, at the age of 35. My dad was not too kind when that happened. I believe the words he told her, before he drove off were, “You need to think about how you got yourself in this situation.” He wanted her to have an abortion. She didn’t want to. 9 months later, Baby Girl (insert last name here) was born. I didn’t have a name when I went home from the hospital. I digress…

e harmonyMy mom needs a buddy. A pal. A man. A guy friend. A date. A wang.

She’s “happy” alone…but here’s the deal. She’s afraid to admit that she’s lonely. It makes her more lonely. But I can tell. I know this woman…and she is lonely.

She’s elluded to be curious about dating sites. She’s never took the leap before. Mainly because of money. Online love is expensive! $59.95 for one month on eharmony. I KNOW! Dannnng.

So I’m ______ this close to doing it. Her birthday is right around the corner. She will be 61. It’s about time she found an old fart to fart around with.

Yours hopeful for interwebz luv for my mama,


update: I bought the subscription and at first she was upset that I “wasted” my money…but knowing my mom, I let it sink in and she’s already talking about losing weight and getting ready to start going on dates and getting some free dinners. It’s a step, I’d say!

Peace, at last

I was complaining a couple weeks ago because I couldn’t get my Zen on, but something happened last week that blew my mind.

Another text, but this one was different. I was so…grateful. I guess is the best way to describe it.

Thanks Universe, 25swf

Guest Blogger – Granuaile: A Passage from Thich Nhat Hanh’s book: True Love

(This post is part of an awesome series of awesome 25swf guest bloggers- read about them here!)

At this point in my life, I’m not a particularly religious person, but I found this passage to be very relaxing and an all too needed reminder to be aware of my self and be at peace in the present.

“Without mindfulness, we live like the dead. And every time mindfulness is born, we are born again into the country of Buddha, on Buddha’s earth, into the Kingdom of God. In Psalms, we read the following: ‘Thou are my son; today have I begotten thee.’ This is the voice of the Holy Spirit. Through the Holy Spirit, you come to life again every moment. Mindfulness is the practice that consists in bringing the body and mind back to the present moment, and every time we practice that, we come to life again.

If we take a look around us, we see people who are living like dead people. Albert Camus says that there are thousands of people moving about around us carrying their own corpses. Thanks to the practice of mindfulness, we come to life again immediately. Being alive is being in the present moment, in the here and now, and that is possible through mindful breathing. In Buddhist meditation, we practice resurrection every moment: ‘Breathe, you are alive.’ The Holy Spirit is present with your mindful breath: ‘Give us this day our daily bread.’ We must not lose ourselves either in the past or in the future; and the only moment in which we can touch life is the present moment.”

Thoughtfully yours,

Lather, rinse, repeat…leave me alone MF

I thought it was clear. But obviously it wasn’t.

Last night this happened (notice the name he has acquired…that’s not Photoshopped, my friends).

Mind Fuck at his best

OK. So, was my last email interaction with him not clear? How much clearer can I be? I feel like I keep following the directions. Lather, rinse, repeat…I keep doing it. I keep making it obvious that I want nothing to do with him. I’ve completely washed him out of my life and he keeps coming around. Leave me alone.

I don’t want to respond to this horse shit, but I kind of do. I want to say, “Please don’t text me.” I want to say, “Please leave me alone.” But it also feels like I’m playing a game if I say those things. I also want to say nothing. Either way, I don’t want this to happen again.

Texting is bullshit. You can’t stop it. You can’t choose not to get it. It just pops up, rearing it’s ugly pixelated head. “You don’t want me, but you get me! HAHAHAHaaaa.” Eat me.

When I checked my phone Mr. M and I had just gotten out of a movie (Hangover 2, which is meh by the way). I am really bad at hiding my reactions. Actually, it’s impossible for me to hide how I feel about anything. So when I saw that message I sighed (outloud), “Oh, fuck.” I’m glad I said it though, because if I had attempted to hide it (so that I wouldn’t have to talk about my ex-boyfriend, which is bad taste in my opinion), it still would have come out eventually.

“Oh, fuck,” I sighed. Mr. M asked what was wrong. I told him in a calm manner, “Uhhh, just this message I got…I can talk about it in a minute, I just need a minute.” And so we talked about the movie, the Chuck Wagon Festival tents that we saw as we got on the highway (yes, we have wagon festivals in Oklahoma…we’re pretty amazing), and then he said, “So what’s up with this message?” I love how he pushes me to open up. I need that sometimes.

I showed it to him and told him this is the guy who I last dated who was awful to me. I told him that the text didn’t make me miss him, it bothered me because I want nothing to do with him, and that text brings back all the crappy memories and how hard last year was for me. And also, it bothers me that it bothered me. He listened as I told him about the last email exchange where I told MF we could not be friends. I told him about how I knew MF was only messaging me to make his current girlfriend jealous. He’s a same trick, new pony kinda-guy. And it makes me sick to my stomach that I was with him. That I fell in love with him. That I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.

Mr. M told me how he had been in a similar situation before. But he didn’t elaborate, and for some reason I didn’t ask. I think I was too self-absorbed in the MF text. It was nice for him to listen to me and just be there for me.

But then I was overwhelmed with sadness and really all I wanted to do was cry (but I didn’t, yet). This feeling hasn’t come around in quite some time, it caught me totally off guard.

We went back to Mr.M’s place, played Call of Duty and started watching this super dumb alien show we have been falling asleep to. I laid behind him and found a few tears rolling down my cheeks. I was so angry that this message was having this affect on me.

I couldn’t fall asleep. 30 minutes passed, I was restless, and wanted half-baked cookies. Playing Bejeweled wasn’t cutting it.

I gently woke Mr. M up. “Hey, I can’t sleep, I think I’m going to go home.”

In his sweet sleepy voice, “Is there something I can do?”

“No, no…I just need to sleep in my own bed I think. Thank you though.”

I got up and he walked me to the door. “It wasn’t something I did or didn’t do was it?”

“Nooooo. I’m sorry I just think I need to sleep in my own bed is all.”

So I went home, literally a block away, and I took a shower, made some cookies, and watched an episode of Angel. I crawled into bed an hour later, successfully falling into a deep slumber. A hot shower and belly full of warm cookies + Angel is enough to make any gal happy (or it may just be me).

This morning Mr. M came over and we cooked breakfast together. It was delightful. I think all I needed was my own bed to get my head straight.

Sometimes that’s all you need; to crawl between your own sheets and find your peace of mind.

And MF, I refuse to let you have any control over me. I may have to say this a few hundred more times, but I’ll say it until it sticks. MF, I REFUSE to let you have any control over me.

Yours not responding to that text and repeating herself (do you hear an echo?),


Motherfuckin’ orange Honda Element

This is how I feel.

Fuck the Honda Element and (especially) fuck the orange one.


Fuck you, ugly car!

My loathing of a silly car may seemingly come from nowhere, but I assure you there is a reason.

MF drives this car. And while I am currently uber happy and moving on with Mr. M in my life… I can’t help it, I STILL feel this way when I see his car.

I have always thought the car of the box-kind variety was ugly. Just trashy and unthoughtful. When I found out that MF drove one, I literally said, “Oh. One of those box cars?”

We used MF’s car to do a lot of things. As in most relationships, there were a lot of memories made in that car. When we went on trips he would often make me drive longer than him and it would hurt my butt. It looks about as comfortable as it is. Sitting on a box for 9 hours is not ideal. We endured the Hail Storm of 2010 in that car; where he blamed me for not checking the weather and therefore being the reason why we got caught in the weather.

It was also in that car where he first told me to “just be happy” and to let it go when I asked him why he purposefully slammed a door in my face. I asked him to apologize to me, and he responded that he doesn’t take requests. There were good memories made in that car too, of course, but who the fuck cares when you are (overall) dating a Mind Fuck. Even the nice stuff is part of the mind fucking, so it’s really not so nice after all.

Ever since the MF break-up back in September, when I see the orange Honda Element, I cringe. How many people really have this ugly car? A LOT, actually. Or at least, because I notice it I notice it. The thing is orange and ugly, so you really can’t miss it. And every time I do see it I immediately think, “Is it MF?” There’s even one that sits outside my bedroom window all day and all night. I’ve seen it move once in the past 4 months. I think it’s taunting me.

car outside of my window

Doesn't it look like it's taunting me? Fucker.

But this car hatred (which obviously really is just a physical reminder of a painful time in my life) came to a head the other day when I ran an errand on my lunch at work. I saw the orange box of shit at a place MF would more than likely be. I was instantly anxious. But I pushed it out of my mind. After running the errand I parked my car and was walking across a street fairly close to the previously mentioned orange box siting. I stood their waiting for the light to change so I could cross the street and get back to work. That’s when I saw it.

I was for sure it was him. He was three cars away from the light where I was standing. I caught myself holding my breath. It was the longest light ever. He was about to be right next to me. I should have worn something nice today. My face is all broken out. I’m alone. I wish I was walking with someone, laughing and having fun.

The orange crept into my view. I peaked. I looked across the street in a Rico Suave move to see if it actually was him. As I glanced across the street, there it was…the car was right in front of me.


Inside, a busted looking old leathery white haired man stared back at me.

HA! I literally laughed out loud. I crossed the street and as I walked back to work I felt a sense of relief. I had just scared myself out of being scared. And then I wrote this story down while in traffic, surrounded by cars (don’t worry, I wasn’t moving), and I laughed some more. And writing it now, again, and having you lovely readers read it, makes me feel even better about this piece of shit car. How glorious it is to talk about things and then be able to conquer them.

Yours conquering one ugly piece of shit orange Honda Element at a time,