Crazy Single Girl Life vs. Former Practically Married Life

It’s 10 o’clock in the evening on a weeknight, and I’m restless.  What am I gonna do?    Sit here?   Hell no.  

What would I have done a year ago in this circumstance?   I probably would have gone to the gym.   It was the default for burning off late night energy when I was, well, what I was gonna say was married.    I always sort of looked at it that way.   

Anyway, whatever it was, whatever name it went by, it’s not anymore.  And tonight, I say, screw it.   I’m not going to bed, and I’m not going to the gym.  I’m gonna put on my shoes, and I might even check my makeup, and then I’m going to sneak a peak at my booty in the mirror to make sure these jeans are working for me tonight, and I’m going to go hang out with a bunch of gay men in a piano bar.


Thoughts on The A-Word

Last night, I wrote a throw away post on my parents’ anniversary.  I wanted to write something, and I wanted to shout out to them on their special day, but I wasn’t really in the mood to write.    So, here’s what I woulda/coulda/shoulda written last night.  Here are my thoughts on their anniversary, and on anniversaries in general.

  • I sort of forgot that it was their anniversary, until I was on the phone with my mom.   I didn’t feel too bad about it, though, ’cause I think they forgot, too.   My dad got up yesterday to go to work, and he found a note from my mom asking him to pick up milk on the way home.   When he was finishing up his day with some paperwork, he remembered the date.  He said something to one of his co-workers, like, “oh, it’s June 10th.  It’s my wedding anniversary.”  The co-worker asked what he was going to get for my mom, and he told him he was getting her a carton of milk.  My mom gave him a slice of banana bread in return.   I hope to someday be in a relationship long enough that anniversaries are still important, but not anything to break your heart over if it happens to slip my mind.
  • Anniversaries.  The root of the word is ‘annual’.   Meaning yearly.   There’s no such thing as a six month anniversary.  A one month anniversary is also right out.   I think that would be a lunaversary.   And really, it’s just lunacy.   Being able to relate to someone for 30 whole days in a row shouldn’t be that difficult.   Unless you’re me, apparently, but that’s a rant for another time.
  • I don’t do anniversaries.  I was in a long term relationship once.   In two plus years, we could never agree when that anniversary would be, if we were to celebrate one.   When you get married, it’s easy.  It’s the day of the ceremony.   The anniversary of a birth, also very easy to track.    I’ve had anniversaries at jobs, too.  That’s super duper easy.   But when does it start to actually count when you’re dating.   ‘Cause there’s dating, and then there’s dating.    I mean, I could go on a date tonight, and in that sense, I’d be dating someone, but I wouldn’t consider someone my boyfriend on the first date.    So, if I did go on a date (this is a purely hypothetical scenario, by the way), and then down the road, that person did become a significant part of my life and family, when does it count?   What about if you’re with somebody for a really long time before you get married, and the day you consider to be the anniversary is different from your wedding date?   This is why I don’t do it.  It’s too confusing.  As always, though, I reserve the right to change my mind.
  • My parents have been married for 37 years.  They raised two kids.   I use the term loosely, since I don’t feel like too much of a real adult.   They worked.   They moved a few times.   They retired.   Now my dad is working again.    All this stuff has happened for them, to them, and with them.   They couldn’t possibly be the same people they were when they married, at ages 31 and 24.    How the hell did they do that?   I can’t even manage to get anyone to like me for more than 36 hours in a row right now.   I am incapable of being lovable.   And they’ve been in love longer than I’ve been alive.   My mom didn’t even like him when they met!    Seriously!   WTF?    What is wrong with me?
Just sayin’.  

Googly Googly

I had to go to Google’s San Francisco office for some training today.   I had never been there before, but it’s around the corner from my old office at TACODA.   It was kind of weird to get up this morning, and commute to that neighborhood again.  It also drove home just how much nicer it is to be in Oakland living and working in Oakland.    

So, you may have heard about some of the infamous perks of working for Google.   Most notably there’s the cafeteria.   I had lunch in that cafeteria today, and I have to confirm that it is very nice.   They had a wide variety of foods.  I only took advantage of about half of it.   There were a lot of options for veggies like me.  I saw a laundry drop box, and although I didn’t really get a close look or a chance to ask anyone about it, I would assume that this means that they’ll do your shirts for you.   They also have a well stocked kitchen with snacks and every kind of beverage you could imagine.

Other “amenities” I just thought were weird.   Of course, I’m talking about their bathroom.   The toilets have heated seats.   And I’m not just talking about slightly warmed seats.   They were hot!   They also had bidets.   Adjustable bidets with air dryers apparently.  I say apparently, because I didn’t actually try out the bidets.   I have never used a bidet, and I just wasn’t feeling too adventurous in the public restroom in the Google office.  I didn’t want to be playing around and end up soaking myself, or making a mess.   They also had a full shower, and there was a hair dryer and brush on the sink.    I couldn’t imagine taking a shower at work.  

I’ve been led to believe that the reason why Google offers all of this stuff is to distract you so that you don’t realize that you have no life/work balance.   Of course there’s a shower there, because you live there.    You don’t pay for lunch, but then again, you don’t leave for an hour for a lunch break.   You don’t really need to leave all day.    Of course, I’ve never worked for them, and shockingly I don’t know anybody else who does either, but that’s the industry rumor.  

I’m not the slightest bit envious, though.   I’ll stick with my office in Oakland with the frightening elevator that’s walking distance* to Ta-Ke over Google any day, bidet and all.


*PeggyLuWho’s idea of what is within walking distance is a lot further than the average persons.