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Today my social anxiety and awkwardness claimed another victim. I really don’t know how I’ve made it so long without being monitored in public. I need to hire an adult nanny so they can help me from making a fool of myself. All I need is a social companion. Do those exist? Should I hire someone? Anyone need a job hanging out and being emotional support to a woman on the brink of crazy-town? Unlimited Wi-Fi and Diet Coke available. Games and activities like Exploding Kittens and brownie-eating-competitions will be provided. (Just don’t blow up my real cats, okay?)

(This started as a joke, but now there’s a part of me that really wants to hire someone who will do all of that with me. A sad testament to how little friends I have that it’s come to the point I’d consider paying someone to be one. Loser alert. It’s hard being an adult.)

makingfriends

On to today’s victim in the pharmacy: 

Woman: Excuse me, I know you don’t work here… but can I ask you something?

Me: Sure. Unless it’s about condoms. I don’t use those so I don’t really have any legitimate advice on them. If I were you, I’d go with the ones that emphasize the woman’s pleasure though. Why the hell not, right? You’re the one here buying them. It’s okay being selfish sometimes.

Woman: Oh…

Me: I know what you’re thinking, but it was an educated and personal decision of ours. I’m married. Happily married even!

Woman: … I was just going to ask you if you knew where the Claritin was…

Me: Oh.. uh.. sorry. It’s right over there. Next to the hemorrhoid creams. Which, thankfully, I also don’t need to use. *nervous laughter*

*Woman stares at me with wide eyes and runs away*

you’re weird, let’s be friends

When I was living in New York, one of my biggest complaints were the people. Sure, there were some good ones around, but it seemed like the majority were complete assholes. If they didn’t ignore you, they went out of their way to be a straight prick. New Yorkers…right? It’s the opposite here in the south. Some days, like today, you get to meet a really odd stranger while picking out some produce. strangerdangercat

Random Guy: Okay, I have to ask. Why are you buying so many jalapenos? What are you making that’s so spicy?

Me: Just jalapeno poppers for the Super Bowl. Nothing crazy.

RG: Oh. Are you sharing them with other people? If not, you are going to be shitting fire for a week straight.

Me: *holds up bag of 35 jalapenos* Yeah. Definitely sharing all of these. No ass-fire for me.

RG:  I did it once. On a dare. I ate 10 whole ones. I felt like there was a zombie baby stuck in my colon and eating me from the inside. I was pretty sure my intestines were going to blow up and I was going to die. What a weird way to die, right? That would be a weird obituary. Death by ass-plosion.  But at the same time, I’d love to make my parents have to deal with that added embarrassment when I’m gone.

Me: … you’re pretty fucking weird.

RG: Yeah, I’m sorry. That was pretty inappropriate to say to a stranger.

Me: No… I’m trying to ask you to be my friend. I love weird. Anyone who has the balls to say ‘ass-plosion’ to a stranger is okay by me.

minionhug

 

Ah… gotta love the south.

GO PANTHERS. WOO!

everything is better with peanut butter

I love food. Not in a ‘oh, this salmon was grilled to perfection’ type of way, more like – ‘I’m going to smother a pan of brownies in melted peanut butter and whip cream and stuff half of it down my gob in one sitting’ type of way. Okay, that might be a bit extreme… but you get the picture. When I heard my favorite grocery store from New York was looking for a place to set roots here in North Carolina, my eyes got a little misty. Then I heard that location might be within 15 miles of my house which made me get mistier in other places. (What can I say? I’m easy to please.) I can’t help but daydream about it coming this way. Mmm Wegmans, you sexy bitch.

eat-it-bitch-asshole-cat-meme

Seriously, is this what my life is now? Getting excited over a 50% chance that a store might open? It used to take a milestone like, you know, getting married or killing a King-Size Reese’s Cup pack without anyone judging me . What’s happening here? Am I getting old? Boring? Predictable?  Hold me.

On another note: Panthers play today. Go out and do your good-luck dance. Eat your game-ritual Cheetos. Put on your lucky boxers. They need to win. If you don’t like the Panthers – eat a dick. (I don’t really mean that. Unless you are into that sort of thing.) 

when life gets hot and sticky

Has there ever been a period of time when you stop and think ‘hey, life is pretty perfect right now.’ You’re fitting into your favorite jeans, you just found out your arch enemy was arrested for public indecency, and, hell… for the first Christmas in years, money isn’t an issue. You’re shocked, grateful, and there’s no possible way to love life more than you do in this very moment. Then, not even a day later, a hot and sticky shit-storm rains all over your head and snaps you back into reality. Life is never that easy. Don’t ever think that. C’mon, now.

lifeblowssometimes

Things in my life were pretty damn awesome until I hit Saturday. I was deep into my final Christmas shopping trip in the mall, when I noticed I had toilet paper stuck to my shoe from an hour earlier. When it was time to leave, and I backed out of my parking spot, my entire front bumper got ripped off my car. (Yes, I’m the dumbass who pulled up too far over the curb.) Then, after I had a minor  major meltdown in the parking lot and finally made it home, Alex pointed out that there was white goop crusted above my lip from my beloved Starbucks drink. It wasn’t pretty, folks.

Sunday – I woke up sick.

Just remember — you are at the mercy of god/fate/karma/whatever you believe in. You’re their bitch, and they won’t be shy to knock you down a few pegs when needed. Never get too comfortable. It goes just as fast as it comes

 

snickers for everybody!

Anyone else have an unhealthy relationship with Target? I’m a bit obsessed. I could spend hours walking up and down the aisles, sipping my overpriced Starbucks, and staring at all the bathroom decorations and trying to decide if it’s a good time to redecorate or not. The other day, Alex called me to make sure I was still alive and wondering if he should send a search party because I had been MIA for too long. It’s hard not to get consumed in there. I love it. I really do… but the employees hate me.

targetmeme

Target Cashier: Hi, how are you today? Did you find everything alright?

Me: I’m good, thanks. I found everything I needed. I’m just trying to convince myself to not get a Snickers. Sometimes it takes a lot of effort. I definitely don’t need one. You know what I’m saying?

Target Cashier: *awkward smile* Do you want to sign up for our RedCard today?

Me: No, thanks….. You know, I’m going for the it. Why not? I worked out today. Ate a salad for lunch. Plus… it’s Christmas. I wouldn’t be an American if I didn’t gain weight over the holidays. So, I’m doing it. The decision is made. I’m about to kill this almond one. It’s only $1 anyways, right? That’s nothing. It’s totally worth it. Ring her up, kind lady.

Target Cashier: Okay. Do you want to donate $1 to end local child hunger?

Me: ….

Target Cashier: ….

Me: Why’d you have to make this awkward, Julie?

embrace your inner crazy

For the love of God!  I mean… Cats! For the love of cats!

pixykitty

I’ve been trying to stay on top of my Christmas shopping this year, and I’m happy to announce: I’ve been kicking some serious ass. I’m almost done.  So, I’m pretty sure that warrants a pat on the back or something as it’s not even December yet. And a cookie. Maybe a brownie. Okay…both. I want both, damn it.

Who’s getting the most gifts from us this year? The cat. Yep, you read that right. Our pet cat. I’m not sure how or when this happened, but I’ve become one of those strange cat ladies.  The kind that has conversations with a non-verbal cat more often than with other human beings. Sometimes we share pieces of cheese together and take turns licking the same ice cream cone. (Okay, I don’t actually do that. Have you ever smelled cat breath? Blech.)  Sadly, I’m not even 30 yet. I didn’t think crazy-cat-lady syndrome could happen so early.

cattalk

So far, she will have a new cat tree, water fountain, automatic feeder, litter box, bed, blanket, and a slew of toys under the tree. I can’t wait to see the look on her face on Christmas morning when she gets to open them all.

……. We really need to have kids or something. This is getting scary. Help

abercrombie nightmares

Today I had the pleasure of shopping at Abercrombie with my cousin. Or displeasure. I remember this store being popular when I was in high school… which was sadly now over a decade ago (man I’m ancient.) But I do NOT remember the migraine-inducing volume of music and heavy stench of perfume that gets burned into the walls of your nose. Not sure how this entices people to buy their clothes… it just makes me want to run away screaming while elbowing all the kids in my way.

Worst of all, the girls who work there have waists the size of my thigh. I may be exaggerating a teeny-tiny bit, but not much. It doesn’t get more depressing than that, folks.

I just don’t get the appeal — which makes me feel like I’m hitting that point in adulthood when I turn into my mother because she just never understood ANYTHING cool when I was young. It’s a scary, chill-inducing thought.

I need some anti-aging cream, stat! And a Dr. to pump the perfumey stench of teenage angst and depression out of my lungs would be useful, too.