This week, I’m watching people I love do stupid things. As ever, my policy in these situations is to say, “You are my friend. I love and support you in whatever you do, no matter how insane and ridiculous. But it irks me. I, too, do stupid things. I know, it’s a shock. This is how I tell you what not to do. I did it. It’s not going to end well.
Today, I blinked my eyes open for the day at 4AM. This is because I am upset about something. It’s a reasonable something to be upset about. I’m sure losing sleep is going to be super beneficial to resolving it, too. Thing is, it’s a new thing to be upset about. This is because I don’t keep doing the same damn dumb thing over and over and over. Now, granted, I have finally realized that what I’m really doing is finding new and creative ways to fuck up my life. At least it isn’t boring.
Life’s all about choices. It’s funny, I’ve been talking with a friend lately about lobsters. Lobsters mate for life. In theory, dating is about finding your lobster. Sadly, human beings are not actually shell fish and just because you have been down a path doesn’t mean you should keep revisiting it. On the flip side, that feeling of “hey…maybe this is it” is probably newness. Newness is fabulous… all filled with anticipation and interest. Eventually, reality will set in.
My lobster is in the tank at Price Chopper, awaiting my hard earned dollars. I know because every time I take my seven-year-old to the grocery store, we have to visit the lobsters. I had to work through that idea and sometimes I still have to work through it. I know I spent my formative years being taught that having a romantic partner is the definition of a successful life. I want that, of course. What I also want is for the most important thing about me not to be whether or not I’ve secured a crustacean. Can we say recent family gathering, boys and girls??
Back to my friends… who are still dancing with the same arthropod, despite overwhelming evidence that this is a very bad idea. I don’t have any advice really. I suppose it’s over when it’s over. Just maybe, just one time, could you make a pros and cons list?
Due to an unfortunate medication side effect, I have been up since 2AM. It’s now 7 PM and I am not wearing my pajamas. I cleaned my house before 6AM. This place is like 6800 square feet and there were mops involved. I’m so hopeful that the late appliance delivery guy will still show up with a working washing machine that I cannot describe it. My laundry is already plotting to take over the Earth, any more encouragement and it’s going to succeed. Here’s my theory regarding laundry: Matching socks are a sign of a wasted life. The vortex they get sucked into only takes half the pair anyway…. Why bother?
So here I am… really really tired. Still gotta buy eggs. And then I decided to start editing my great American novel… It occurred to me that I should probably stop that, so now I am blogging for your entertainment. You can let me know how that works out. So, I’m reading this book, that I had to back burner for a bit on account of the need to work and raise kids, and I don’t know if I like it. Someone just asked me if they could read it…. Umm, yeah, not so much. I have this weird little quirk about people reading my work. If it’s not ready, no way in hell.
So this week’s crazy is as follows… I signed my divorce papers on the Tuesday of the sixth week prior to my husband’s wedding day. That would stress me out if I were them. As it is, I’m finding it amusing. I admit, I debated about signing them nicely… Then I thought….meh… self, we (this is the royal we) have no desire to be married to this guy. We did shots on our wedding day. (Remember, kids, that is NOT a good sign) We want to use the Roberts name legally, not just on social media. Why create needless drama for the sheer pleasure of watching them squirm? So, I signed the papers within 48 hours of their preparation. So, cheers, I hope the fourth time’s a charm. Which brings me to…. If second marriage is the triumph of hope over experience, what the hell is the fourth?
I’m not sure if I would ever get married again. Weddings are totally awesome…. Think of the endless details you get to painstakingly plot out prior to getting all your friends and family hammered. I love that part. Ooh, ooh, music planning. And flowers, food…. Guys, girls start planning their ideal wedding at around the age of three. It matters more to us. Back the hell off. But sadly, Miss Shannon needs her keys. A man would have to be the best thing since sliced bread to get her to give you her papers.
I’m interrupting my regularly scheduled blog to share that today, this little blog broke 10,000 hits. Good day for it, too, as I woke up in a blanket fort kind of mood.
Shannon’s Handbook for Success is calling out to me today. As ever, I can really only tell you what not to do but today I have extra pearls of wisdom. (These things just come to me, I have absolutely nothing I’m not talking about. Nope, nope, nope.) Appreciate the little kindnesses that come your way. Someone is going out of their way to make you smile, and that has value. Occasionally, look around and find some stupid little thing you can do to make someone in your life smile. It will make you smile, too, I guarantee it.
Lately, I’ve learned so many things I really wish I hadn’t. When that happens, you take a deep breath and keep your hands on the wheel. Now, shift gears, tiny dancer. There’s no reason in the world you can’t downshift if you’re going too fast. That’s why you wanted four on the floor to begin with… better handling. Am I the only one that misses driving standard??
So, now that I’m talking about cars… apparently oil changes are a thing and they need to happen regularly. If you are distracted by the million other things you have to deal with every day like I am and don’t get them done, your car will start to rattle. Which you won’t notice because you’re always blaring the radio. When it’s called to your attention by folks with superior engine knowledge, it will make you feel stupid. Two little tidbits about Miss Shannon… don’t embarrass me and don’t make me feel stupid. If I liked it, I’d still be married.
I’ve reached another fresh start place in my life. It’s going to be a whole new world including regular oil changes. Hell, I actually wash this car, it won’t kill me to drive through Jiffy Lube. But remember:
My love life is private at present, so I’m going to tell you about Stacy’s. Now, Stacy’s got it going on…. She’s a beautiful woman with personality to spare. And she met a boy… Proud of you, darlin’! It’s time to move on with your life. This is Stacy:
So Stacy went out with the boy, on Miss Shannon’s advice. Break the seal, sister. Then we learned that he is bat shit crazy. As in, she hung out with him one time…. One time. Singular. And now he’s throwing her texts like…where are you? Who are you with?? Come over now…. You heard me. This is a Domestic Violence Ribbon, because that’s where this is headed.
Really, dude? You act like you’ve been together for ten years and you caught her with the milk man last week. This is why you’re single, muffin. Nobody wants to be smothered. This one actually said… “Hey, I told you I’m jealous.” Because, you know, that makes it totally ok to act like an ass hat.
I have one tiny bone to pick with my Stacy Lynn….You have violated the Handbook for Success. We do not show them where we live. They come back. Even if he’s your cousin’s friend’s boyfriend’s brother. Those people will not tell you he’s crazy as fuck because they hope you will collect him. If you have him, they don’t. This is why fix ups are scary, loved ones. Because y’all are always trying to tie up loose ends!!
You know, I am so good at walking away that it scares me a little. I can cut a person out of my life with the precision of a laser. This is true even when it’s someone I love very much. Little known fact about me: If I ever loved you, I still do. A basic unwillingness to deal with someone’s crap does not mean I don’t love them, it means I love me more.
This is a life lesson I’d like a couple of my favorite ladies to learn. Sometimes, you have to take one for the team. If you always have to take the hit, something is not going according to plan. Check rule 92 in Shannon’s Handbook For Success. If your needs are always last, check yourself. You need to locate and remove the word “welcome” from your person.
Every now and then, I get a wild hair and I think maybe just maybe I wouldn’t mind having a significant other again. Seriously, I need someone to fix the damn laundry room door and the hole in the counter. I would gladly exchange laundry and cooking services to just not have to deal with this crap. Except there goes your autonomy and ability to do whatever. Everything is a negotiation, of course. So I have to remind myself of Rule 33: We do not negotiate with terrorists.
Everyone needs a Handbook For Success. Mine is filled with all manner of things…. Don’t shit where you eat. If Miss Shannon says, “Mama!” rethink it. If he says you are out of his league, you probably are. Boys have cooties. If you show him where you live when he is drunk he will come back when he is sober. If JC says it, it’s law. Pretty is as pretty does. The speed limit is a suggestion. Do not throw my fucking pots and pans. Regardless of what I am wearing, do not tell Miss Shannon she looks like a whore. Miss Shannon s not a whore. Don’t make her feel like one. This is JC: