Friday, January 27, 2017

Friday night Pizza date

Thursday, January 12, 2017

Love Letters, (& other last ditch efforts)

Its been a long time since I got a love letter.
If you've ever seen P's penmanship, you'd know why.,,
But that's okay, he's more of a "Good Morning Princess, text kind of guy. 
Alas, Those type of letter aren't the ones I speak of today.
These are the letters that are a last ditch effort to keep the courtship going.
No truer words were ever spoken. Say that's up for debate? Read
: The Sales Pitch..One of my best blog topics ever.
The holidays can be real rough for anyone trying to reason through staying in a relationship.
Anytime your contemplating a breakup around the birth of Christ, chances are, it wasn't going to be a Bonanza of a holiday anyway. I suggest you sever ties and move on swiftly.
And in the words of Bo Jackson: Just Do It.
I would love to consider maybe 30% of my readership on this little Bloggity belongs to the boys. 
Being the pragmatic thinker I am, I think the Pete's of the world can appreciate that.
So let me give you all the sage advice I have:
If you send her song lyrics, there's no swifter reason for her to say, "See Yaaaa"
Sending someone song quotes is no truer sign of a small minded person.
Music can make the world go round, but it can also stay in your head all day and be more taxing than your late night text messages, trying to make things right.
Creating a book of "coupons" for her to cash in on moments when you're going to be a nice man? Coupons, cash or credits, won't make me buy anymore of you're bullsh*t.
Becoming someone else, because you fear you have something to lose, is berating.
(I actually Know of one of these "booklets" that was sent this holiday season..Gagggg)
I had my own Cusack moment(look it up people..I just lost any millennial that may read this..)
Joe Gonzakowski came to my front lawn and played a Cure song(further dating myself)
My Dad didn't find and cuteness in it, and I'm sure contemplated firing a weapon or 2, to get him off his freshly mowed lawn
I've only met One person in this life(so far), that I've said: Right Person, Wrong time.
We took the cues, and once again I was the shot caller. We went our separate ways and I said if it was meant to be, it would have been. Maybe one day we'll meet ,, under a different set of circumstances, or when we're cats..
But then again, this dame is for the dogs..
So boys,, leave the love letters for Hallmark. Keep being the person you were in the beginning, and I bet, there won't be any break ups.

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Rainy Day, and Donations

January is just as good of time as ever to start talking about getting rid of Junk.
This coming from the self- proclaimed, More is More girl!
It all started with a trip to my Mom's. After becoming a widow, she waxed poetically about missing her mate. So she started renovating another family home a few short hours away. She had enough Stuff to fill both bungalows, but she kept on buying.
In an effort to keep the cabinets from tipping over, I went over to help her hone down.
I wasn't prepared for how emotional it all would be.
She had a connection to everything, and didn't want to donate Anything. There was my Mother arguing with me that one(of the 4!!) sets of measuring cups clogging her drawer, worked better than the other. That the set of wooden spoons was purchased at the Pamida up north before my Grandmother passed. It was exhausting. Our roles were suddenly reversed. I was talking her through things she should be saying to me. I begun to make her decide, would she rather have, The memory, or the measuring cups? The spoons or the satisfaction of knowing how many times she used them with her own Mom. And when it came down to it, wouldn't she prefer to provide someone with something, than to have several?
We didn't get through every drawer, but we started to make a dent.
And when I got home, I started to take matters into my own hands.
I started to look around at all the sh*t and think about why I had it all.
I went from living in a 4 bedroom 3 bathroom house, to a 2 bedroom 1 bathroom house. And after the recent #farmhouse renovation, I had room for it all again, but didn't want it. 
All those DVD's? Except for my 3-4 favorites, I stacked in a sack.
The set of 4 glasses, that stood as 3 after one shattered? Shipped out. And all those travel cups that would tip over under the sink? Sayonara. #aintnobodygottimefordat
Call me crazy, but I #can'teven deal with all the Crap.
Just because I have a Basset Hound, doesn't mean I need a mug with one on it.
And despite having the middle name of Robin, doesn't reserve the right for anyone to give me ridiculous amounts of ornithology related goods. 
This year I'm cleaning out a lot more than my closet, and the Donations will do someone Good.

Friday, January 6, 2017

The 2 Year Ich (and why Not to scratch it)

In this relationship, I am the scab scratcher.
I am the button pusher, and I can't keep well enough alone.
Sometimes to the bewilderment of my better half.
I am always pressing on because before, I never did.
Prior to P proposing, I had participating in a relationship with a man that had been previously married, and divorced: Within 2 years. Within 2 years he had spoken those vows, and I don't know how, signed those separation papers. The brutally honest side (and judgmental) of me, meandered, "Didn't you even Try and work it out??" I had never even heard of such a thing happening. Until recently. Apparently now, 2 years is a breaking point, after many beauties become a bride.
I'm going to go out on a limb here(surprise) and proclaim:
If you're married and divorced within 2 years, you likely, shouldn't have said those vows. And because I've been That person, I'm willing to bet, you had a few friends that tried to tell you so.
At 2 years, I instigated a total kitchen renovation. Some people birth babies, I broke though bulkheads. Handling a hammer was something I knew how to do.
At 2 years, of being married to P, I hardly even knew him. I couldn't even consider cutting those ties, and heading for bluer sky's.
I knew him as a person I dated, and someone I wanted to spend more time with.
But I hardly knew him as my married spouse. (does this sound crazy to you?)#whocares
Despite all the Pinning I had done, no one tells you what really happens after you(potentially) break the bank on a banquet hall booze fest. I had co-habitated with a creep for over 10 years, but (thankfully) the logistics were never legalized.
The first 2 years, there were a few tears, and every so often a squabble. But I never got the sense to get out before it Really got bad, because it never was.
So if it's been 2 years and you have the sensation to scratch, I'd say, Save yourself, and your spouse, and go get some salve. Because at least for this bride, it Really does great Greater, Later.