Tag Archives: Status

The Date Ditcher

21 Oct

It happened. It happened to me. I never thought it would.

But how?! Was it my text? The way I responded? Maybe I seemed too over-eager to meet up.  I tend to get a little excited about new relationships.

This was my first time, I thought I did everything right. We met at a party and hit it off right away. We kept in touch every now and again and exchanged facebook friend requests. Then one night, after finding the courage in 3 glasses of wine, I sent a text asking to meet up and it worked! We set a date and time and double confirmed the details. The day came and I could barely contain my excitement. I showered, shaved and even put on my new fall booties. I anxiously awaited by the door as the time neared closer to the hour you said you were arriving but you never came. You never showed up. You never rescheduled. You never even cancelled!

Yes, I got stood up…on a date… on a play date.

I normally don’t do play dates. The thought of sitting in a stranger’s house while our kids play and leave us to small chit chat is excruciating. Especially when there is no wine involved. I went with my daughter to one birthday party/ play date and it was probably the worst thing ever. I’m not sure which was more painful, the fact that each and every kid at the party had a melt down or that people assumed I was the 18 year old babysitter hired to help.

Yea, play dates aren’t really my thing.

But they almost were…last year at a party, I met a girl that I had gone to high school with. I found out she had a son who is close in age with my daughter and immediately we hit it off.  By the end of the night, we had decided we should get together; the kids could run themselves tired while we drank wine and complained about them running wild.

It sounded like a dream play date come true.

Basically, I tend to get really overly excited when I meet new people. I am that over-eager friend. When you say, “we should get together soon” I respond with, “how about tomorrow”? Yea, I’m one of those people. Making friends out of college is a tough task. You no longer have drinking buddies or Sunday brunch besties. As you each begin to start new jobs and get married, you are lucky if you keep 2-3 friends from college. Sure, you can make work friends but all you really have in common is work and all you probably do is bitch about your boss. So to say that I was a tad excited for this meet up is a bit of an understatement. For this play date I went out and bought a cheese spread…Yes, A MOTHER FUCKING CHEESE SPREAD.

This was serious.

Our guests were to arrive at 2pm and confirmed earlier that morning we were still on. I did some last minute cleaning, brushed my dogs so they were less smelly then before and sat patiently on the couch awaiting their arrival….

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2:00 ….Ok, it’s time! I’m sure they will be here any minute now.

2:15….silly me, nobody arrives right on time, she is probably just being fashionably late. 

2:30….Maybe they stopped to pick up some desserts. 

2:35….They must have hit a detour in the road

2:40…I hope they arn’t dead

2:45…They are definitely dead

2: 50…I’ll send a text

TextHey! Are you guys on your way?!

3:00…No response

3:15…Ok, Seriously this is rude, the cheese is melting 

3:20...I’ll start an episode of Scandal while I’m waiting

3: 30…Shit, I ate all of the cheese 

4:00…Fuck it, I’m changing out of my bra and watching NetFlix

4:30…Drank entire bottle of wine and fell asleep

Can you believe I never received a response or cancellation from this girl?

Look, when a man stands you up on a date it’s expected because men are douche bags, but women, women know to cancel plans. They either reschedule or come up with a half believable excuse as to why they can’t make it. This girl straight up just went missing in action. I even kept an eye on the news in case I heard about a mother and son that were taken hostage!

For two days I had no idea what happened or if this girl was even still alive. Lucky for me, the world is small and I found out she planned a birthday party for her son the same day as our play date was scheduled.

jon-stewart-confused-what

Ok? Weird? Maybe she forgot about the birthday party?  Some people might forget a planned birthday party for their kid…right? But still, shoot me a simple text like, HEY-gotta reschedule, totes forgot my kid’s birthday party is today!

WHAT IS THAT? Why are people so damn weird?! I got a cheese spread for crying out loud! 

At least Addison sees right through the bullshit. When I asked about her thoughts on being ditched on her first play date, this is what she said,

This whole situation is awkward and so is that kid’s mom.”

Well said.

Meet Sarah, Addison’s Vampire Sister

7 Jul

I hope you all are recovering well after a three day long weekend of boozing and sunshine. I’m writing this after a very long weekend which means I’m still paying for it. I shouldn’t feel so crappy today, we had a fun weekend with good friends. We even got to take Addison to her first “friend” birthday party. Her first party at 4 years old…I know it sounds like a late “first” right? It’s not like she’s a loser and never gets invited to parties, it’s late because my husband and I were too chicken to take her to the other parties. Sure that sounds selfish but when you are the youngest parents there by 10+ years, it’s a little intimidating. Plus, introducing yourselves as Ryan and Ryan can get annoying. We can only handle it in doses.

Birthday Party Fun

Birthday Party Fun

Superhero Party!

Superhero Party!

So we go and it was just as awkward as you could imagine. Parents standing around, not sure what to do. Nobody was talking to one another or being friendly so it was a lot of sitting and watching the kids run back and forth. At one point one of the mother’s sat next to me. I decided to strike a conversation and we chatted about stupid shit that mother’s chat about. She told me she was a teacher at Addison’s school and was raving about how great Addison was.

Then she asks, “Where is Addison’s little sister? Did you bring her along today? Or was it too hot to bring her outside?

This is not the first time Addison has told her schoolmates that she has a younger sibling…but something about this detailed question made me realize that maybe the whole sibling lie was a little more extreme than I had anticipated.

“Addison doesn’t have a little sister.” I replied.

What? She tells us these stories about her little sister, Sarah.  One time she told the class that Sarah has brown hair and brown eyes. She did also mention that Sarah has a condition where she can’t be around other people or go outside for long periods of time. Wow, all of that was made up?

I didn’t know which was worse, the fact that my kid is telling people about an invisible, rabid little sister or the fact that these teachers are dumb enough to believe her.

beach

Everyone, meet Sarah…Addison’s younger vampire sister

Addison has been known to be “creative”. I choose not say, a “liar” because she means no harm in making up these stories. I knew we were in trouble the day she began describing her most fondest memories of Disney World. She explained that her happiest moment was when she got to meet Mickey Mouse in person and he kissed her hand...we have never been to Disney World. Or my personal favorite when she told me her greatest hobby is saving baby monkeys in Africa. Yes, apparently my daughter saves baby monkeys in her free time.

To be honest, I have no idea where she gets this from….SEE: MADE UP SHIT I TELL MY KID

 

We left the party shortly after. Addison was strapped in her car seat, happily munching on her 5 lbs of pinata candy. I felt now was the best time to confront her about her little “sister”.

Addison, why do you tell everyone you have a sister?” 

(Silence…..)

“Your teacher told me that you have a sister named Sarah. Not only that but Sarah cannot go in the sunshine or be around people.” 

“Well…I tell them she can’t be outside in the sun, it hurts her skin…And she is not allowed to be around other people because she bites…”

Good God, Sarah bites…

“Addison, why are you saying that? That is called lying.” 

“Yes. But they ask me about her and I cannot stop telling them. I cannot.”

“Ok, Please stop telling your school that you have a sister who lives in the basement because she bites people.”

The Family according to Addison

The Family according to Addison

Lovely vacation with Addison and Sarah

Apparently Sarah was on vacation with us!

Who knows how long these people at my daughter’s school actually believed that I have a rabid, blood sucking child locked in my basement at home. No wonder why I get weird looks when I pick her up from school.

Midgets Lift, Bro.

11 Jun

I recently found my motivation for going to the gym every single morning.

I….I….I….don’t even know how to say this the right way….

I have a real life midget at my gym.

A Midget works out in my gym.

In my place of fitness, we have a midget member…that lifts weights for real, not for entertainment.

I have a special fondness for midgets. Some people are scared of them, some people want to kick them but I can’t contain my excitement for the little people. In fact, I adore them.

This is how I envision my life:

olexsons

It’s a hard life living in a Big World.

When I first saw this little person it was on my way to the bathroom. I stopped dead in my tracks. For a moment I thought I was dreaming or that the circus was in town….but it turns out, we have a new member. And it’s the best thing since Frozen came out on DVD.

Let me ask you this, have you ever seen a midget leg-day? Have you ever seen a midget do pull-ups? Have you ever seen a midget do a dead lift?

Do Midgets even lift bro? Fuck yes they lift and I have gone to the gym 6 days in a row to watch it. That hasn’t happened since treadmills had TV’s installed.

I’m certain that this gym midget and me were destined to be friends. I have always wanted to be friends with a midget, it’s been a life dream. I have never known one personally and only have seen them in public places, like at the zoo. Actually every time I go to the zoo I see a midget…maybe there is a correlation?

However, I started to think about the possibilities of us becoming friends and I’m a bit worried as to how this whole friendship would play out.

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Me with a midget version of myself

Here are my concerns:

1. I can’t hide my excitement for midgets. When I talk to the midget at the gym, I sound like I can’t breathe. I also smile like a creepy child molester. I’m 73% sure she thinks I want to eat her.

2. I’m not sure how to greet her. This is a new kind of etiquette zone and I’m lost as to how to maneuver it. Do I bend down on the floor to say hi? Should hugging be avoided? If she hugged my leg would it be acceptable to pat her head?

3. We could never share clothes. The best I could do is offer her some hand-me downs from my 4 year old.

4. What if we decided to go out to a bar and there are no booths available? We would be forced to sit at the high top tables. I’m assuming she isn’t a trained ninja that can scale a wooden chair leg, so would I have to pick her up? That might be awkward.

5. Forget pedicures. Could you imagine a midget getting a pedicure? The spa I go to has some strict nail technicians; Le-Le would have none of that.

6. Taking walks. I like to be active with my friends and enjoy taking long walks…but 1 of my steps would be 4 of her steps. She would be tired in less than a mile and then I might have to carry her on my back. I could bring a stroller, I have an extra one but I have a strict safety policy on strollers and would insist she be strapped in.

I think a snuggie would solve most of these issues but I wouldn’t want to push this idea on her too fast.  We will just have to take things slow.

I tried googling, “How to be friends with a midget” but no credible advice columns came up. If anyone has been in this situation before please let me know what are the Do’s and Don’ts. My friend circle is small so I don’t want to mess this up without being properly educated.

So, how was your week?

 

When I'm Chelsea Handler status

I’m about to have a Chelsea Handler status

That Time I Went To An AA Meeting and More Comedy

2 Jun

Hi Everyone! It’s been awhile…I’m feeling guilty about my absence from the blogging world. I haven’t been eating popcorn watching Netflix this whole time I have just been busy with my newest addiction to stand up comedy and preparing for my cousin’s upcoming wedding. (The bachelorette party put me out of commission for about 5 days. My brain has slowly started to come back to me.)

Also, I did my very first REAL LIVE SHOW on Friday! Whoohoo! I got to perform with Rain Pryor, the daughter of legendary comedian, Richard Pryor. What a fun time it was and I got my dad to video tape the whole thing for you. Please note at the end when an elderly man gives me the middle finger…nothing like pissing off a senior citizen to start off your comedy career.

 

On another note, I am a guest writer for Can I Get Another Bottle Of Whine today! It’s all about the time I went to my first AA Meeting. Make sure you check it out here and don’t forget to follow Kate, she is a hilarious blogger that has a special talent for Twitter.

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Blogging will commence shortly….stay tuned.

A Letter From Your Mother

8 May

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To the little girl who calls me mother,

I wanted to write you a letter this Mother’s Day because you are the reason I am being celebrated for my MILF status (I threw in the MILF part).

You are only 4 years old but at 4, you blow me away.

Before you came, my life was like any typical college kid my age. The world was my oyster and my five year plan was as solid as a brick wall. You were a factor that I had never considered.

Doing my typical college thing

Doing my typical college thing

When I found out about you, I was only 20, still a baby myself in many ways. Like the fact that I still didn’t know how to wash a load of laundry without shrinking everything in it.

Two weeks before I took that pregnancy test, I competed in a college Beer Olympics with your dad. I must have drank between 12-15 beers, chugging them as fast as I could. Sorry about that. Your little peanut fetus must have had as much of a hangover as I did. However, your dad and I won the Olympics so that trophy you stare at on the wall was well worth it.

Dad was super excited with his winning Russian hat.

Then there was that time when I was about 7 months pregnant and turned 21.  Instead of getting wasted on my birthday, I got loaded on raw-free sushi. No complaints here, I’m sure you were just as happy as I was that night.

That same week my doctor said I could have a glass of red wine, my first drink of alcohol since the Beer Olympics. I ordered a red sangria…I thought it was red wine with fruit. Sometimes young mothers are stupid. Halfway through that sangria I realized that it was filled with more than just red wine. Between the slight buzz and the angry looks from other people in that restaurant, I should have noticed sooner. My bad.

This explains everything

This explains everything

When you were born, you were not the cutest newborn. You were purple and had a slight resemblance to the asian gas station attendant down the street. I’m sure your dad was a bit concerned but didn’t say a word.

Do you see my concern?

Do you see what I’m saying?

As you filled out and got your chubby baby rolls, you became the prettiest little thing I had ever seen. You had bright blue eyes like your dad, my smile and your own unique laugh that was contagious. You should have been the poster baby for GAP, you made Prince George look like a pile of elephant shit.

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Can’t handle the adorableness…Neither could GAP

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Heart Melted.

When you were about 8 months old I brought you shopping with a friend…a non-baby-experienced, friend. She took you into a dressing room while I finished getting my hair done and sat you on a dressing room table. Of course you fell off and bumped your head. She brought you back to me wailing, your head looked like Worf from Star Trek.

That was a bad day for you.

That was a bad day for you.

I felt terrible, probably not as terrible as my friend but that was the first time I questioned if I was good mother. The minute I coddled you in my arms and kissed your boo-boo, you calmed down and smiled letting me it was ok. I left with my hair half done, but I didn’t have to pay for it so it worked out. Needless to say, my friend will not be allowed to take you shopping until you are at least 10.

By 2 years old, you mastered the art of a taking a selfie before it was even an art to master. You would take my IPhone and snap pictures of yourself for me to find. You don’t know this but your secret selfies got me through Monday mornings.

Awesome in a selfie

Awesome in a selfie

At 3 years old, you were more mature and smarter than most kids your age. You are an old soul. I know this because you asked me one day to stop calling you a baby. You said, “I am 3 years old and should be called a little young girl“. It broke my heart a little bit but it was a fair request.  Or that time you wanted to use your Chuckie E Cheese money to buy a Dora doll. You insisted on using your own money to buy what you wanted. At 3, you already were an independent “little young girl.” Beyonce would be proud.

Independent women don't give a F*$#!

Independent women don’t give a F*$#! in Crayola Factory

Now at 4 years old you continue to amaze me. When we went camping and a wild animal ate all your marsh mellows, I did my best to keep you calm by explaining that we would get you more. You simply looked at me and said, “Fuck it, whatever. It’s no big deal”. I should have scolded you for using profanity or put you in time out but I was so impressed you used it in the right context that I couldn’t. All I had to do was explain that “Fuck” is an adult word and should be used by adults. You now you reprimand me for using it and say, “12 year old girls shouldn’t use that word.” I hope you think I’m still 12 in a couple of years.

"Mom!"

“Mom!”

I love when you make me laugh uncontrollably, which happens often. Especially that time we went for a 5 minute walk and you told me your boobs hurt from walking so much. You told me you wanted to lay down so you could rest your boobs from such a strenuous hike.

After two years, Dad and I finally found the secret to keeping you a clean kid. Who would of known the detachable shower head would be the trick to get you to bathe more than 2x a week. My outlook for your hygiene is now bright.

The god of all clean children

The god of all clean children

As you get older, you are turning into a little me. I worry about your dad’s sanity. Having two of me in one house might be a bit much for him. We may not find most of his jokes funny, but he is crazy about us. You will find out soon enough that he is wrapped around your finger and always will be.  Give him a break every now and again, he tries his best to keep up with your mile-a-minute stories. And I know his dreams of you becoming the first female NFL player are excessive, especially when he times your 50meter sprints in the driveway.  He means well. I will do my best to keep him at bay but wearing his favorite team’s football jersey on Sunday is out of my realm, nothing I can do about that.

I got nothing to do with this.

I got nothing to do with this.

I often wonder why you chose me to be your mom and am so incredibly grateful that you did. I will never be the perfect mother and you will never be the perfect child but you are certainly perfect for me. One special thing we will always be able to share is that we are growing up together. The bond you and I have will never be duplicated by any future siblings you may have one day, it’s only for you and I .

I can’t wait to see what great things you will do. You will fail and you will make mistakes in life and me and your dad will fail and make mistakes but we will always love you unconditionally.

I promise that I will always be honest with you and tell you like it is. I promise that I will always do my best as your mother. I promise that you will not like every decision I make for you or that I will like every decision you make for yourself. All I ask is that you promise me to do what makes you happy and that will always make me happy.

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On this Mother’s Day I’m not thankful to be a mother, I’m thankful to be YOUR mother. I wouldn’t replace you with any kid out there because for me, you are the most perfect “little young girl” I could ever ask for.

Love,

Mom

That Girl Ryan Does Stand Up Comedy

21 Mar

Here it is…my comedy routine!

I’m an inpatient bastard and couldn’t wait any longer to receive the professional taping of my routine, so I’m posting the footage one of my fans (aka my dad) captured on the night of the show.

This is the entire routine minus the last 3 seconds…it’s just missing 4 words.

Enjoy!

What did you think!?

FYI: I Didn’t Die

14 Mar

Hello? Is anyone still out there?

It’s me, That Girl Ryan.

I wanted to check in and let you know that I did not die or lose my hands, I just abandoned my blog for 3 weeks.

Terrible, I know but I did upload my NEW blog logo!!! Don’t you love it?!

My unrealistic expectations took me in a different direction once again to…Stand-UP Comedy Class.

Making an asshole of myself online wasn’t enough, I needed to get on stage and do it in person.  Let me tell you, it’s harder than it looks.

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20140314-161217.jpgLook at me trying to be cool

Next week is my official “graduation show” where I get to do my whole bit in front of a real audience – trashy New Jersey locals – but still, even trashy NJ locals can be an intimidating bunch.

I wanted to share some things I discovered about the world of comedy…

1. Male comedians are perverts/horn dogs…can’t help but love them

I won’t go into detail but I will say this…

Ladies, if you are single and want to date a male comedian, take my advice and do not shave, do not wax the “area”. There is a group of men out there who will fully appreciate you as a woman in her natural state; pubes and all.

I haven’t seen anything quite like it…

2. The uglier and older you are, the more you get away with…it’s not fair

This is the first time in my life I wish I was born fat, ugly and funny because then I’d get away with saying anything…like newborns are ugly and look like old men. For some reason, that line just doesn’t have the same effect as if an older, grey haired, overweight lady said it.

Ugh.

3. It’s hard to write comedy material

I spent the last three days thinking up different ways I could explain the benefits of being a Tranny

I missed a meeting at work because I was practicing my voice impression for Steve Urkel

I spent 45 minutes searching all the synonymous for VAGINA

WTF has my life become?

4. You become a narcissistic

I’m ready to bitch slap myself

5. You are not as funny as you think you are

Like that time I went to an open mic and nobody laughed at my jokes…Most awkward 5 minutes of my life.

6. Stage fright gets re-defined

Flight or Fight has become…Flight, Fight and piss your pants

Wish Me Luck this week…I will return back to my blog soon!

Hashtag #Hoes A Video Blog

7 Feb

Before you watch the video, I’d like to give a brief background on the Hashtag #HOE.

Definition of a hashtag hoe: a female who overuses hashtags as picture captions on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Why do they do this? So strangers can look at their pictures.

You all know who these people are and if you don’t, you are most likely one of them. If you are one of them, shame on you and for the love of God, stop it. Most hashtag hoes post the most ridiculous pictures and frankly the pictures only require one caption….#Why? Why are you publicly embarrassing yourself?

The publicist and I have explored a variety of hashtag hoes and separated them into 3 categories; #GirlsWhoLift, #InstaChefs and #TBT (Throw Back Thursday).

#GirlsWhoLift: Ahhhh, the gym whores, personally my favorite type of hashtagger. Typically gym whores are hot, I will give them that but my god, if you are that hot why are you posting half naked selfies on social media EVERY OTHER DAY!? How much attention do you require???! I mean it’s entirely unbelievable to us viewers that you actually work out with your hair down, lets be real. Are you really working out, or are you building up a portfolio for a porn audition? I can never tell. Please sister, put your clothes back on do a real workout. We all know #RealGirlsWorkOutInClothes. Right now, none of us are admiring your gym progress, we are just down right embarrassed for your mother. #IamTotallyJudgingYou.

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At least she shaved her armpits. #Kudos

#InstaChef: Some instachefs snap pictures of every single meal they consume on a daily basis. Have you seen spaghetti before? Have you seen peanut butter and jelly? Of course you have so who gives a flipping shit about what it looks like in an instagram filter? Half your hashtags don’t even relate to food! What does #Love have to do with bread? What does #Home have to with meat?  If you are going to crowd my feed with your stupid food pictures, I might just leave a comment about how many calories that meal really is…hey fatty you know that’s like 3000 calories per serving? You might want to go to the gym, workout with your hair down and then tell us how you burned off those calories.

Bread?!! OMG how creative!

Bread?!! OMG how creative!

The #TBT Junkie-Throw Back Thursdays should have picture guidelines. If you are posting a picture from the day before that is not considered a “Throw Back“. Throw backs pictures are from your awkward teenage stages in life so the rest of us can laugh and make fun of how ugly you were, not from your underwear shopping spree yesterday (Yes, someone actually did that).

TBT? Na, just another half naked selfie.

TBT? Na, just another half naked selfie.

This hashtag rant couldn’t end with just a written lecture…we brought it to a whole new level by creating a video. Our personal speculation of how hashtag hoes go about creating a classic hashtag picture post.

Rest assure, we made a point NOT to leave #One #Fucking #Thing #Out.

Enjoy Bitches.

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That Time Cheesy Bread Turned Me Into A Lesbian

31 Jan

A funny thing happened on the way home from a track meet…

I think I have mentioned before that me at 18 was nothing short of a total douchebag, I apologize to my parents everyday for it. Before I tell this story, I will apologize again, I’m really sorry for being a douchebag.

It was winter track season of my senior year in high school and I was on my way home from a track meet. About 30 minutes into my drive, I hit a stretch of traffic that left me in a slow crawl for 15 miles. Hitting random stretches of traffic in New Jersey is not unusual.

FACT: New Jersians spend half of their life sitting in traffic.

Driving, doing my thing

Luckily, my teammate was carpooling home with me and helped to pass the time with Rent duets and celebrity impressions. To set the scene a little further, it was pouring rain and we had both finished a taxing track race; the 400 meter hurdles. If you are familiar with track, the 400 meter hurdle race is harder than childbirth, you might as well jump off a building when you find out you have to run it.  Anyways, as we passed the time…we came to notice an admirer driving a Honda Accord next to us.

He was probably about 23 or so and had big blue eyes with curly blonde hair styled like Matthew McConaughey’s. My teammate and I were instantly captured by his smiles. The flirting was subtle at first, his car would pull up next to us, he would flash a smile and take off again. We would inch up to his car, blow a kiss and giggle as we pulled away. After about 20 minutes or so of this traffic flirting, things started to get more complicated. We began writing notes and putting them up against the window for him to read like, “UR HOTT” or “HONDA’S GOT BACK”. One even read, “HONK IF UR INTO US!”. Childish yes, but so much fun up until my stomach started growling. As I was getting closer to a Red Lobster restaurant, my hunger could no longer be avoided.

“Damn, i’m starving.” I said to my teammate.

“Me Too! We should stop for food at Red Lobster, get some cheesy bread”.

“You just read my mind but I’m broke, I spent my last $10 on hair spray last night. I wanted to go all out for 80’s day at school tomorrow.”

“Ugh I’m broke too, I have about $5 left in my bank account.”

Then an idea hit me…I wasn’t sure if it would work but I was willing to try. After all, Red Lobster cheesy bread was at stake here.

“How bad do you want cheesy bread right now?” I asked.

“I might sell my leg for just a bite.”

I rolled down my window as we caught up again to Mr. Honda and motioned for him to do the same. “Hey there cutie! We were going to grab something to eat at Red Lobster, want to join?” I yelled across the lanes.

“Uhh, ok? Yea Sure, meet me in the parking lot.” He yelled back.

Sweet, Mission Cheesy Bread was in motion.

When it comes to cheesy bread...no stopping me

When it comes to cheesy bread…no stopping me

We figured out early in life that men will do whatever necessary to get laid, even if it means buying dinner for complete strangers. A free meal at Red Lobster was going to happen.

First things first, we needed fake names and cover stories because after all, this guy was a complete stranger. She would be Carmen, the 23 year old zoologist. I would be Carrie, the 24 year old Park Ranger. We tided up the details of our stories and prepared to exit the car with our new identities.

When Mr. Honda stepped out of the car, I immediately regretted my decision to go through with the plan. He was 5’2, almost the size of a large hobbit. I also noticed his left shoe was higher than the right shoe and he parked in a handicap spot. “Why hello beautiful ladies, what an honor it is to eat with you BOTH.” He said with a slight lisp as he limped toward the entrance to the restaurant. I put my head into my hands as he opened the door for us. I will definitely be going to hell for this one, I just wasn’t above using a handicapped man with a lisp for free cheesy bread.

As we sat down, the cheesy bread was delivered to our table, my teammate and I scarfed down all 6 rolls. Mr. Honda Hobbit was too busy talking to notice. We found out his name was Howard and he was born with one leg shorter than the other. It never stopped him though. He went on to describe how he played basketball on the weekends with his wheelchair buddies. He also worked in construction building houses for charity. He did mention however, that currently he was suspended from his job due to a pending criminal investigation, which included some sort of assault with a nail gun.  He was asked to quit work until it resolved. Cool, Howard the Honda Hobbit was a dangerous handicap criminal and here I was sharing a meal with him.

Howard really wasn’t so bad, minus the assault thing but when his instinctual male-mind kicked in toward the end of our dinner, things got weird, “So what are you ladies up to tonight? I was thinking we could move this party to my place.”

Trying to be as nice as I could, I made up an easy-out excuse, “Well, Carmen has to get home to see her parents, its been a while and she misses them.”

Howard then replied, “That’s a shame, well if Carmen can’t make it, then how about you and I go back, Carrie? I’ll take you home, wrap you up real nice and make you squeal like a piggy!“.

When you say those words, I see this man.

When you say those words, I see this man.

I almost vomited in my mouth. Not only did Howard just quote Deliverance with a lisp but he was pushing hard to make sure this dinner was worth his money. This was check-mate. How would I get out of this? If I told him to get lost, we would be stuck paying for the bill with our non-existent money and if I went home with him…well, that was never an option. I wasn’t going anywhere with some criminal, half-midget in a Honda named Howard.

Acting quickly, my teammate grabbed my hand and held it to her lips, “Actually Howard, we are a couple. Carrie is coming home with me to meet my parents and we are worried about how they will react to this whole thing so we just wanted some company to keep our mind off of it.” She squeezed my hand to get me to play along.

Yea, we are most definitely a couple. We aren’t into guys, strictly girls. We are totally on the straight and narrow…erh in a gay kind of way.”  I answered.

Thank god Howard the Honda Hobbit had a heart, he smiled with sincerity and said, “My pleasure ladies, sorry for the mix-up. However, I’d love to hear how you two met. I’ll throw in dinner with dessert if you can stay a little longer.

So there we were sitting with Howard over dessert explaining the intimate moments of how we met and became to be a lesbian couple. Carmen shared her coming out of the closet story and I, as Carrie, shared mine. Howard was intrigued by our experiences and even got a little choked up at one point as we described our future dream wedding together; we had both decided to wear wedding dresses. Mine would be pink.

After dessert was finished, Howard paid the bill and walked us out to our car, hugging us goodbye. He thanked us for the company and wished us well. We got into my car and sat for a moment to adjust to the entire situation.

Did we really just do all that for cheesy bread?” My teammate asked me.

Yea, Cheesy bread just turned us into lesbians.

I started up my car, turned on the Rent soundtrack and continued my drive home in silence.

driving-gif

Janine's Confessions of A Mommyaholic

Southern Boy Living In a Northern World

24 Jan
I love that I have cleavage in this picture

I love that I have cleavage in this picture

I did the one thing I told myself I would never do, I married a southern boy. I also told myself I’d never get knocked up before marriage, but I did that too…by a southern boy who I said I would never marry. Go Figure.

100_0491

Only the southerns drink beer while feeding their children

I’m not sure why, but I just really have this disliking for southern folk. I was born in Virginia but moved up north at the age of 13. Maybe I was brainwashed but I fully embraced the northern way as my way of life. Even on my first day of school in the north, I knew I would love it here.

Me: “Hi I’m Ryan, the new girl. Can I sit with you at lunch?”

Northern Girl: “No, and don’t ever fucking ask me again. You’re too blonde and too nice, you won’t last a day in this part of town.”

It was love at first curse, I immediately knew northerners were my kind of people. I dropped that southern accent faster than you could say “CAWWFEE”.

When I met my husband in college and learned first hand how southerns really work, I despised them…and all of their traditional ways. Let’s break it down, southerners like to get married before the age of 28 and have at least 2.5 children before the age of 32. They buy houses with a lot of land and white picket fences and wear riding boots with scarves. Plus, they all dye their hair blonde which is offensive to us natural blondes. Of course I was married with a child before the age of 28 but I don’t count that because I’m not a fan of riding boots with scarves, white picket fences or fake blonde hair.

So when my husband decided to move to New Jersey and live in my world, he found out rather quickly what he was getting himself into; a cesspool of non-traditional thinking…

Thoughts from a northern-southern marriage

1. Cooking is the job of __________.

Boy Ryan (S): Women should be cooking most nights of the week. The only exception is during the summer, then it is a man’s duty to cook on the grill

Girl Ryan (N): Fact: most female serial killers, kill their victims by poisoning the victim’s food…Men should cook just as much as women to ensure they are not being poisoned

2. Decision Maker

Boy Ryan (S): Men should be the ones to make majority of family decisions

Girl Ryan (N): Men never should make decisions. If they do, the idea came from the woman

3. Children

Boy Ryan (S): Your twenties are for birthing children

Girl Ryan (N): Your twenties are for drinking, sleeping and doing stupid things

4. Marriage arguments

Boy Ryan (S): Couples should have calm, quiet discussions behind closed doors

Girl Ryan (N): The more tears, the more screaming, the better

5.Cursing

Boy Ryan (S): You should never curse in public

Girl Ryan (N): Fuck that shit

6. Working

Boy Ryan (S): Woman should be at home raising children while men go to work

Girl Ryan (N): Women should work so they don’t strangle their children

7. In-laws

Boy Ryan (S): I hate my in-laws

Girl Ryan (N): I hate my in-laws

8. Parenting

Boy Ryan (S): Parents should always be an example for children

Girl Ryan (N): Parents should sometimes be an example for children, but sometimes be just as annoying

9. Quotes to live by

Boy Ryan (S): Life is a journey so work hard and be respected

Girl Ryan (N): Life is short, so fuck it

10. Personal life

Boy Ryan (S): Personal life is private, never share the details of marriage or life with anyone

Girl Ryan (N): Umm…why do you think I started this blog…exploit it all!

Since the beginning of time, the North and South have been at odds. I find it only appropriate that I, a loud anti-southerner would marry a real, traditional southern boy. It’s like my destiny to learn to work with these annoying people. Even though my husband is traditional at heart, he has a wild streak that keeps him sane. I don’t know how we do it,  but we make it work. Our differences in tradition make us That Boy Ryan and That Girl Ryan.

So to you traditional southerners, take your white picket fences and shove it, we all know who’s the better breed of humans.

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