Tag: crazy single girl life

Crazy Single Girl Life – Home Sweet Home

It finally happened.   I finally feel like I’ve had just about enough of going out.   I’m in.  I’ve been in.  I’m not going anywhere.  

I’ve been home from my vacation for a couple of days, and I have to say, I haven’t been feeling as antsy since I got back.  I just want to hang out, and I’m enjoying my apartment more now.  I guess I just needed a bit of a break.  

So, I’m sitting here being a bit of a slug.  I kind of feel like I might be coming down with something, too.   

I’m watching trashy TV.  I’m slouching, and I’m tap tapping away at my MacBook.   I’ve been looking at all the stuff I’ve been wanting too.  

This is the life.  This is my life.   It’s not any different than when I’m running around every day.  I’m still the same person, so I guess it makes sense.   It’s just nice to feel like I can breathe again in my own house.  I’m still going to go out when I want, but hopefully I’ll find some balance now.   

And by balance, I mean passing out on the couch with a belly full of risotto.  

Just sayin’.

cat
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Crazy Single Girl Life – Housework Edition

Kind of sucks when there isn’t a dude to blame for the lack of cleaning of the bathroom.  I really did let it get that bad.  This is yet another negative side effect of Crazy Singledom.  I think, however, that I’m getting to the point where I don’t feel like I have to go out every night.  Maybe every other.

Crazy Single Girl Life – Personal Questions Editions

It seems that since I’m single, people (friends, acquaintances, family members, etc.) think that my personal life is fair territory, and I’ve found myself on the receiving end of some very odd questions, statements, advice. Lemme just save us both some time and go over some fine points for you.

  • If I don’t bring it up, you don’t bring it up. If I don’t tell you that I’m seeing someone, going on a date, met somebody, etc., then the topic is off limits. If you have to ask, you’re prying. Period. End of discussion. Don’t get all indignant and pissy with me when I point it out to you, either.
  • If I respond to your prying question with some sort of cagey answer, you should drop it. This is my way of subtly saying that I don’t really have a desire to share. If you don’t pick up on the hint, don’t get all indignant when I go the blunt route and point out that you’re prying.
  • Until such time as I tell you that I’m not single anymore, you can go ahead and assume that I still am. What kind of fucked up question is, “Are you still single?” This will be responded to with either the afore mentioned cagey answer and/or the blunt pointing out of how rude you are and/or sarcasm. Are you still not minding your own damn business?
  • Don’t you dare judge me for behaving like a single person. If, as a result of your prying or because I have actually decided to confide in you on my own, I allude to or flat out state that I may or may not be going on dates with one or more person, don’t get all flushed by the plural. Just ’cause I went out with John on Sunday, and Dick on Tuesday, that does not make me some kind of tramp. And did it ever occur to you that I’m making it all up just to throw you off?
  • What’s up with So-And-So? As far as I’m concerned, the only appropriate answer to this question is: I don’t know. What is up with So-and-So? I’m sure you’ve heard some bit of gossip about me and So-And-So, and I’m also fairly sure that it’s all poppycock. Until you hear it from me directly, you should also assume it’s poppycock. Asking about it is prying. See above.

So, in summation, there’s nothing going on, and even if there is something going on, I’m not talking about it, so you don’t need to know, and at such time that it becomes pertinent for you to know what’s happening with my personal life, I will be sure to fill you in, and until I do that, it’s NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.

Oh, and the more you pry, the less likely I am to be comfortable sharing with you. Gaining trust takes patience. No patience = no juicy details.

As if I have juicy details.

I totally have juicy details.

Or do I?

Just sayin’.

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Crazy Single Girl Life – Laundry Edition

If you’ve been following this blog at all, you know that I have been keeping pretty busy. Actually, that’s putting it lightly. I’ve been going going going so much that I barely see my apartment. It pretty much is just the spot where I crash and shower. I don’t even eat here so much.

Of course, as many people have pointed out, this isn’t necessarily a mutually exclusive symptom of single-ness. I just think, looking back on my relationships, that when you’re with someone, hanging out at one or the other’s place becomes an activity of it’s own. I don’t particularly care for sitting around by myself. It makes me either feel like a loser, a failure, or that I’m just missing out on lots of potential fun. I’d rather be busy.

So, I go out a lot. Band practice, piano bar, pirate party, jell-o shot party, drive-ins, dvds at the command center, Rudy’s, SNWMF, The Soul Captives playing, Maldroid playing, The Phenomenauts playing, and on, and on.

Then, when I finally do get home, exhausted, I fill up a glass of water, sit it next to my new alarm clock, plug my iPod into that new alarm clock, plug in my cell phone, and just as I’m crawling into bed, I slip out of my pants, and socks and leave them there . . . in the pile of other pants and socks that are next to my bed.

When I wake up, I drink some water, climb over the pile of laundry, and drag myself towards the shower, leaving what’s left of the clothes I wore yesterday on top of yet another pile that has come to live under the sink.

So, there’s been a pile of jeans and sox next to the bed, and a pile of underwear and t-shirts under the sink for weeks. Shoes are just about everywhere. And every week or so, I’ve done that one load of subsistence laundry with one pair of jeans, a few t-shirts, some socks, some underwear, and one towel. Then there’s also the overflowing hamper in the closet with all the clothes that I don’t want to wear often enough to be included in my subsistence load.

But even my laziness, craziness, and slovenliness has it’s limits. This morning I find myself with some down time, so I am doing about a metric butt ton of laundry.

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.

 

Carrying on the Crazy

I think that to say that I overdid it a little this weekend would be an exceptional under statement. I’ve been nursing a serious yucky feeling and a headache all day. I needed to drop off the face of the planet, and the planet obliged. I’ve been in extreme hermit mode all day.

This all started on Friday. I had my birthday get together at Albatross Pub. Things got off to an hectic beginning, and I was pretty late. Once we settled in, everything was pretty cool. The turnout was much better than I had expected. I have a history of terrible birthdays, and usually there’s only one or two people who show up. It was cool to have so many of my worlds collide. My oldest friend in the world, with my some of my newest, bandmates and friends in bands, theater folk, college friends, and former roommate. Many rounds of beer and cocktails were shared. I got some really cool gifts that weren’t expected at all. I even got a chance to show off just how poorly I play pool.

So after all that, I got up early the next morning, feeling like crap, and got myself dressed and over to the Command Center. The Phenomenauts were playing at Live 105’s BFD, which is one of those day long, multiple bands on multiple stages, radio festival concerts. It was a very long day. A long, sunny day. I managed by to avoid getting burnt. I reapplied the sunblock at least six times. Oh, and we were drinking from the moment we got there at around 10:30 in the morning. Drinking beer in the sun. And not eating enough, because the food was ridiculously priced. But The ‘Nauts put on a helluva show on the Local Band Stage, and I got to see something I never thought I would – Cypress Hill live.

So, yeah, I needed to do nothing today, and today I did nothing. I watched a lot of crap on TV. A lot. I also watched the Giants’ game. I napped. Oh, and I watched the last 20 minutes of “Coyote Ugly”.

And my head still hurts. I should probably drink another gallon of water before I go to bed. I should probably go to bed.

Maybe it was too much fun, but I doubt it. It was just a whole lotta fun, and a whole lotta beer.

Just sayin’.

Crazy Single Girl Life, Pt. 2.1 Photo Addendum

Here are the few photos I took on Friday night.

What I wore.

Had the Bowser’s Pizza with Rippor and ‘Elle before the show.

 

Deal’s Gone Bad

 

Commando!

 

Baby Bro.

 

Rippor, ‘Elle, and Baby Bro

 

 

I didn’t get a single decent shot of The Slackers, but you know, I have a million of those already.

Crazy Single Girl Life, Pt. 2

Went out last night, and saw a couple of bands I like and know, Deal’s Gone Bad and The Slackers. Missed a lot of The Slackers set, actually, as I got too wrapped up in the socializing and silliness. I think I’m a little bit spoiled, because I know they’ll be back and I’ll catch them next time.

Went to a gathering after, and found myself trickling in my door around five this morning. Normally that’d be fine, but I have practice and my mom is coming in this evening. It’s going to be one very long and interesting day.

Still crazy. Still single.

In Which I Decide Internet Dating is Not for Me

I caved to Creeper’s nagging. I posted a personal on Craig’s List. Don’t go looking for it, though, because I already took it down.

What a disaster!

Actually, that’s a complete and total exaggeration. It wasn’t disastrous. It was just uninspiring. My hopes were pretty low, and the response I got was even lower.

I got only 8 responses. Of those 8, one was a Republican, two were exceptionally devoid of punctuation, one guy only wrote of himself that I would be “glad that I met him,” and one guy seemed way too into Emo. Of the lot, I think I would have possibly hung out with one of them.

But really, when it came right down to it, I just didn’t really feel like writing any of them back. I pretty much already knew that I didn’t want to find someone to date, but was just kind of curious to see if I got any really interesting responses. It was more like a crazy single girl experiment than an actual attempt at dating.

I think I’m cool with my lot in life right now, and I’m not looking for anyone else to add to my cast of characters. Besides, I’ve already got one guy to flirt with. How much more could a crazy single girl ask for?

Crazy Single Girl Life

Last night I had a meeting at a Lucky 13 with Pedro, and we discussed our plan for world domination, the soccer team we’re going to buy, and doing rails off of prostitutes asses in dressing rooms. I don’t want to put the cart before the horse, so I’ll write more about this when I’m actually officially in the band. Oops, did I just let that cat out of the bag?

Oh – funny side note, since I’m on the health kick, and I’m not drinking, I ordered a cranberry juice at the bar. I was sitting for a while, waiting, and there was another guy there sitting by himself. After a few minutes, this guy turns to me, and goes, “Excuse me, did you really just walk into a bar and order a cranberry juice?” What an ass cheese! So, I replied, “Yes! It’s both refreshing and healthy.” He didn’t really know what to do with that, so he just went back to crying in his beer, or whatever it is that ass cheese does.

Anyway, I was pretty amped up after meeting Pedro, and on the way home, I remembered that one of Baby Brother’s bands, Monster Pete and the Chiefs, was playing. I couldn’t remember where it was exactly, so I gave him a call. Hotel Utah in The City. I hopped on the freeway in Oakland, and I was there in about 15 minutes. (Gotta love living in Oakland.)

It’s been a long long time since I did something so impulsive and spontaneous. It was awesome. And I got to go out and see Baby Brother, and have a nice chat with him. And Monster Pete tore it up. I didn’t stay up too too late. I left right after the set, and was home by 11:30. By the time I loaded the CD Pedro gave me onto my iPod, flossed, and climbed into bed, it was maybe 12:10. I passed out. No insomnia last night.

When I woke up this morning, I had three picture mails, and a text on my phone that I had gotten in the middle of the night.

There’s a lot of little things that I didn’t realize I had let go of over the last few years, but now I’m getting back to myself. And myself, I am the girl whose life revolves around music, and who decides at the last minute that I want to go see that band, and I love when my friends reach out to me at all hours, just to say ‘hi’ and share some randomness with me.

And yes, Cam, those are some crazy mad props!