Soul Sister

You know those people that you have to love because you are genetically connected to them? Most call them family. And then there are those people you actually choose to love because they are who you wish you were genetically connected to? Your chosen family.

When I was 16, I decided my family should host a foreign exchange student. Maybe I'd seen the movie Better Off Dead a few too many times, but I had this very romanticized idea of falling in love with some gorgeous guy with a terrible accent. Well, my parents somehow agreed to the zany idea, and the following year we were driving to the airport to pick up the woman who would soon become my sister and another member of our family.

Sure, maybe I was a teensy bit disappointed we didn't get Hans, some imaginary strapping hunk from Hunkland, but I quickly got over it when I met Chantal. She was sweet, fun, pretty, generous, and brought me chocolate from Belgium. *nomnomchocolate*

That year we loved and fought as true sisters. We had each other's backs. We giggled in the wee hours of the night. We got on each other's nerves. We had adventures. At the end of the year, I didn't want her to leave! We hugged and cried and made promises to write.

Because I am ancient this was before email was prevalent (email was new and seemed a cold way to communicate and I could go days without receiving any... so I rarely checked it), and so we actually hand-wrote letters, and called when our college-student budgets allowed. I visited when I studied abroad in the Netherlands. We sent little gifts, and when she fell in love and got married, I flew out for the wedding.

A few years later I flew out again and was able to meet her two young children, who were absolutely adorable and sweet, and got to see her be an amazing mother. Her light showed even brighter through her kids.

Then we both got busy. She had kids, I was working in Los Angeles trying to break into the entertainment industry.  We emailed, we Facebooked, but despite the additional modes of communication, we talked even less. But we always knew the other's love was there. When we did chat, it was as if no time had passed. Like sisters, with a common bond, we could still know each other with just a tone in the other's voice.

A couple of years ago, Chantal got sick. Colon cancer. She fought and took risks and lived her life to the fullest even with pain and disease. She took experimental treatments. Things looked good for a time, until they didn't. A few months ago, she was told there was no more treatment to be done. Still, she remained positive, sure that some new treatment would become available, some new trial, some new possibility.

About a month ago, she went into the hospital because of some pains. She still was so positive, planning to get the pain under control. In my heart I knew then if she didn't come out quickly, she never would. A couple of days ago, she passed from this world. She was with her cousin, and he said that although she could not speak, she nodded that she was not afraid to go.

I am comforted by the fact that she is no longer in pain, that she was not afraid at the end, and that she was surrounded by love. But I am still brokenhearted that my sister is not there for me at the other end of the phone, or a facebook message or email, or a "like" on a picture. My heart breaks for her two teenage children, that they should have to live the majority of their lives without her. My heart crumbles for her mother, who should never have to feel the pain of losing a husband and her only child. My heart hurts for all who loved her, including me.

I can't help but feel lucky to have known her, to have been loved by her. Everyone who knew her felt the same way. Perhaps those whose lights shine the brightest also burn out quickest. Or perhaps life just isn't fair and some only get to be here a short while. Either way, cancer fucking sucks and it can go fuck itself.

Give those you love a little extra tonight. Reach out to that person you've been meaning to catch up with. Open your heart.

I miss you, Cha... my sis.

breaking up is hard to do-o

So from Tinderland I found two seemingly normal-ish guys. One is well on his way to becoming my hunka-hunka-burning-love

and the other is sweet, funny, cute, and just... not the one for me. Our dates are always fun, I enjoy spending time, and if there were no one else, I might even keep hanging out with him just for shits and giggles. But for the most part, he is the one driving any communication or dates.

Well, now runner up is wanting to take things to the next level - not just drinking and having fun but he wants to cook me dinner and take me on a trip out of town and I want to do those things with my winner-winner-chicken-dinner! (pun intended)

So now I have to have a break up convo and we haven't even had the be-exclusive convo. Ugh.

To make things worse, runner-up and I have never talked on the phone. We have texted, we have hung out in person, but never talked on the phone. *side rant about dating in this day and age*
So now that means I either need to break up via text or in person. Well, I can't break up via text. That's just too much. Which means I have to do it in person. Which is THE WORST because now I have to go out on a date with him again in order to break up with him! I don't want to go out with him anymore!

I mean, its really his fault for making me have to break up in this way. He's the one that never called me, and we all know the guy has to call first. He's the one forcing me to strike the brutal blow right to his face. If he had just called me at least once, I could now call him and break up over the phone, like a civil human being. Because this is what happens when people break up over text.

Granted, I could just text him this video and see if he gets the hint...

Down, doobie doobie, down down...

all the playas in the house STAND UP

I'm still on Tinder... (sighs)

But despite the fact that Tinder for women is 99% fugly-dudes and Tinder for men is a gorgeous-lady-playground, I remain hopeful that I can find my prince on this thing. I've been dating a couple of guys from there, and one of them is even a front runner for titleholder "boyfriend," but I find it best not to put all my eggs in one basket.

In my profile, I say I'm only interested in meeting in person, so don't swipe me unless you want to meet me also. So when I matched with a moderately-not-unattractive guy and his first message to me was

I'd LOVE to meet you in person!

I replied with

I love that you'd love to meet in person!

He hastily got to the business of setting up the date. We exchanged numbers and began texting. I was slightly put off because he called me "babe" in his first text. But... I am nothing if not forgiving. (hey! stop laughing!) He suggests coffee, I offer to meet in the afternoon, and he asks if we can do morning instead. My only morning plans were a yoga class, so I decided to forgo my ohmshanti in favor of ohmcoffee. He tells me just to tell him where to be and he will be there.

Showers, puts on make up, picks a cute "just threw this on" outfit...

 #wokeuplikethis

*cut to: Starbucks, 5 minutes before the time Tinderman McJerkathon requested*

I enter Starbucks and look around. He's not here yet. Hmm... do I wait so we can order/stand in line together? Or do I just go ahead and grab a coffee and sit and wait? I opt for the second one and grab a table outside in the shade. I check his Tinder pic one more time to make sure I know what he looks like. I peruse Facebook. I check my bank account balance. Look at email. Check the time. 10:05. He's late. Harumph. But only five minutes. He was coming all the way from Malibu, after all.

I look more at Facebook. Damn I have a lot of friends with kids on the first day of school. 10:10AM. No text, no message, no call. WTF. This guy is getting five more minutes and he better have a damn good reason for being late.

10:15AM MOTHERFUCKER. I SKIPPED YOGA CLASS, GOT DOLLED UP AND PAID $5 FOR COFFEE AND YOU DON'T EVEN BOTHER TO TEXT ME TO LET ME KNOW YOU'RE NOT COMING??? A litany of "expressive" texts come to mind but I don't send one, because you know the second you snark out a text an even better one emerges in your head. I fume the whole 5 minutes home.

I mean, what the f*ck??? He's the one that wanted to meet me. He's the one who picked the time. He's the one who didn't show up!?!?!? I look just like my pictures. If he drove up and saw me it's not like he would be surprised by what I look like and have second thoughts about meeting me.

Never in my life... Finally I decided to just take the high road and all I did was unmatch from him on Tinder. Jerk.

it's not easy being green

Why is it that all the stuff that is better for us (as people, as a planet) is more expensive and/or harder to get?

Arco/BP is usually the cheapest gas, but they spill all over my oceans.

Organic food is healthier, but always more expensive than pesticide ridden foods.

Hybrid and electric cars are better than gas-guzzlers, but also more expensive than the fossil fuel alternatives.

Vegan substitutes are generally more expensive than their global-warming-animal counterparts.

Bio/plant-based cleaners are more expensive than the chemical-laden ones.

Styfrofoam and plastic are cheaper than the biodegradable containers.

Recycled stuff usually more expensive than non-recycled stuff. 

And on and on...

I just recently found out that I have the option for renewable energy through LADWP. So, instead of horribly polluting/environmentally irresponsible coal and nuclear power, I can choose renewable energy from sources such as biomass & waste (stuff we are throwing away anyway, so surely free) and wind (free, courtesy of God/Allah/The Universe/Mother Nature). Yipee! This makes me so happy, because global warming is some serious shit and according to leading scientists, pretty much almost too late.  

HOWEVER, this option, that will help our planet, is .03 cents per kilowatt more expensive. WTF. (sigh) So you mean to tell me that by using *free* stuff to power my home I have to pay approximately $5-15 MORE per month?? Tell me how this makes any sense.

*eyeroll*

*does it anyway*

Sing it, Kermit.

global shit storm

I've been reading several articles lately on global warming and how the shit is hitting the fan a lot sooner than originally predicted. And that we are basically f*cked as a planet, unless we make some severe changes, like, RIGHTNOW. And I am reminded of a story that I must have heard as a kid in church or somewhere jesus-y.

I swear, this was a huge iceberg a second ago.

The story goes that there is a huge rain, and it starts to flood. The streets are filling with water such that regular cars cannot drive through them. A devout christian man is essentially trapped at his house because he has no vehicle. A guy comes with a big truck and offers to give him a ride to higher ground.  Homeboy says, "No thanks, I don't need a ride Mr. Stranger. God is going to save me."

Well, the rains keep coming and the water gets higher. Homeboy has to move into the second floor of his house because the water is so high.  A group in a boat comes by and offers him a ride to higher ground.  Homeboy says, "No thanks, I don't need a ride group of Strangers. God is going to save me."

The rains keep coming, and homeboy has to move to his roof due to flooding of the second floor. But he has faith. He just knows God will save him! And a helicopter comes by and offers to throw him a rope ladder to save him! And homeboy says, "No thanks, I don't need your helicopter ride. You see, GOD is going to save me!"

As you can imagine, Homeboy drowns. And when he gets to heaven, he comes before God and says, "God, I am a good Christian man, faithful my whole life. I prayed for you to save me, but you let me die! How could you do this?" To which God says, "You idiot. I sent you a truck, a boat and a helicopter! You refused all three!"

*facepalm*

I feel like that is what is happening with Global Warming. When the shit really starts to hit the fan, the evangelists are going to have a field day. But when they get to heaven and ask God why he didn't save them from the dying oceans, the horrific weather patterns, the crash of the ecosystem, he is going to say, "You idiot! I sent scientists telling you what was happening, congresspeople and senators to introduce bills that would limit emissions, and inventors to create products and services that would protect earth."

f*ckin idiots.

OohLaLa

For those of you who are blissfully unaware of the Tinders - maybe you're married or cohabbing or living under a rock - let me give you a sneak peek into the WTF world of

App Dating

Tinderland, where you look at someones picture(s) and whatever they have chosen to share or not share about themselves (in 500 characters or less) and click the red X for "aww HELL no" or the green heart for ummm maybe yes, but if we get to know each other a bit I still might say "aww HELL no". 

Some of my more scintillating options

If you both select the green heart, you match! Which means you can now message each other! And if they are not what you expected... then you can unmatch from them and they can no longer see your profile or talk to you. 

Recently I matched with a moderately handsome guy Jacques* whose 500 characters or less said

"Made in France. Living in Los Angeles."

 He started chatting with me. Here is an approximation of the conversation:

Jacques: Hi

Jacques: Can I ask you some questions?

Me: Sure!

Jacques: Have you ever been in love?

Me: Yes. Have you?

Jacques: No.  But I hope to.

Me: It can be wonderful. 

Jacques: What makes you unique?

I started to think... wow, these are great questions! Way better than the usual "'sup" or "how are you" or "how's your day been". My interest is definitely piqued!

Me: I'm funny, loyal and a great listener. 

Jacques: I'd like to continue, but this app is a pain. Do you have OhLaLa? It's better for chatting.

Me: I don't even know what that is.  :/

Jacques: Do you have iPhone or Android?

Me: Android. 

About 2-3 minutes go by... nothing. so -

Me: What brought you to LA? Does your family still live in France?

At this point I have email to attend to, so I leave the app for a couple minutes. When I return - 

He is gone. Unmatched. Without a trace. Buh-bye. I mean, if it was so important that I have an iPhone with some mysterious OohLaFancyPantsFrenchChattingApp, he should have specified in his profile. Harumph.

*didn't change his name at all.

Renaissance Romeo

WELCOME TO TINDERLAND

Where unlike Vegas, what happens here gets spread all over the interwebs. 

so Tinderland has some *ahem* unique folk wandering it's fertile grounds, and I was matched with one whose prose was more like poetry. We'll call him "RR" for Renaissance Romeo. Here are just a few delightful excerpts from our tinder-messaging:

"I speak three languages; English, Joy and Appreciation." 

"Appreciation is the fuel by which all relationships thrive and ascend. Find a way to consistently appreciate those who you share heartspace with and it is amazing what occurs."

"Then before your head prepares to caress the pillow, please allow me to say thank You; I appreciate You for writing, being playful and setting off a very sweet spark within. I wish You a peaceful night's rest. " 

I quickly determined I could never date someone who spoke so ridiculously, but also that I needed to meet RR to see if he spoke suchly and thusly in person, or if he was just a regular guy masquerading as a wanna-be Shakepeare. I felt a little deceptive leading him on like that, but inquiring minds wanted to know! And by inquiring minds, I mean me and my friends. ...And by me and my friends, I mean mostly me.

We tinder messaged for a while, then switched to text message, and still his words were more like a sonnet than the usual text abbreviation/shorthand "hyd" (how ya doin) "LMFAO ur funny" "laughing my fucking ass off, you are funny" "ttyl" (talk to you later) that one sometimes gets.

Finally we spoke on the phone, and I was a little disappointed that RR spoke like a regular dude, with the exception of a word here or there. I had gotten to the point that I was really hoping that he would confabulate in iambic pentameter. Alas, he did not. He did, however, finally make good on his tinder profile where he espouses his ability to make people laugh. I legit belly-laughed at least four times. Maybe this guy could be a good match after all...

And then... the other shoe dropped. I have written in my profile that I am looking for  a guy who is 5'11" or taller, and RR asked if that was a deal breaker. It isn't totally, but it kind of is. My "research" into this Tinder-rrific gentleman and what he is like in person had gone this far, so of course I said, "No! I've dated guys shorter than that. I just usually am attracted to taller men." To which he replied, "Well I'm an inch taller than you, I'm 5'8"." The possibility that RR might actually be a keeper poofed away as quickly as it was created. "Oh, well, you're taller than me. I'm sure that's fine!"

We meet for coffee the next day, and not only is RR mistaken about his height (he's maybe 5'7" if he stands up super straight), but the shirtless pic of himself he posted was clearly from when he used to go to the gym. But he is charming, sweet, funny, and I find myself having a great time! And then... I see his hands. His little, tiny, baby-hands. Oh NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! I cannot. I just. CAN. NOT. do baby hands. Little chicklet fingernails and tiny digits that are only good for needlepoint and other small crafts or maybe for making sweatshop clothing. But I am on this coffee date, so I just try to keep my eyes up.

And, oh god, there's more. RR has a daughter. Who is 24. Who is only three years younger than his last girlfriend. Who is like totally Mensa genius level smart. And who supports herself as a semi-nude model. But her modeling is all really tasteful. And he is so proud. Of his semi-nude-model-mensa-daughter.

RR's career is befitting such a Unique dude. He helps people with SOUL EXPANSION. What the fuck is that? I don't know. I would have asked (ya know, "research") but I was fairly certain I would dissolve into a fit of giggles and that's just rude. I'm not sure why I care about that... When he had previously alluded to his job in our phone conversation, I was so thankful we weren't facetiming or skyping, as I had to hold the phone away and stifle laughs when he told me. He's a rambler, so it was fine that I couldn't reply due to stomach spasms. He just talked on and on about how amazing he is.

I genuinely began to regret the resarch-date when RR asked if we could "go deeper." and would I like to "lead the dance" or shall he? *cue another involuntary stomach spasm and herculean effort to keep a straight face* This is when RR began to espouse his "brilliant" thoughts on soul expansion, loving, relationships, etc. I truly learned his love of his own voice and theories at this point, when he rambled on and on for about a half hour or forty-five minutes about who-knows-what *cue glazed eyes and insipid smile* needing no response save open eyes and a heartbeat from his conversation partner.

The next day I was racked with guilt/didn't want to play this game anymore and texted him to "break up".  He tried extensively to convince me that I would grow to love him over time. I had to tell him 8 ways to Sunday that I just wasn't into him, without mentioning his delusions on his height, his incessant ramblings and his teensy-itty-bitty-baby-hands. It was exhausting.

I've only heard from him once since, just to text hello. And if I never hear from RR again it will be

“Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble!”

no butts about it

Tinder likes butts and they cannot lie
These pictures can't deny
when a man swipes in with a nudie pic and a butt crack in my face I swipe LEFT. 

because ewww. gross.

I'm no Sir Mix-a-Lot and these guys shouldn't have put it all out there for the interwebs to have until eternity.

Bedbug - er, butt

Muscle butt

You can pick your friends, you can pick your butt, but please don't pick your friend's butts

Sudsy butt

butt selfie

butt ring

Beach Bum!!

Camptown Races

A friend on facebook just posted a video that is nearly a minute long of her twins running in circles. To a song that plays out of one of their toys (read: tinny, no words, annoying as f*ck). She was giggling in the background and the caption on the video was "you're welcome."

...for what? for taking away 50 seconds of my life I can never get back? for getting a terribly grating children's song stuck in my head? for posting something I want to see less than that other friend on facebook that posts a picture of what he eats every day? Seriously. I would rather see a picture of food on a plate (ooh! look! chicken and steamed vegetables!) that watch your child act like an idiot.

literally her kids looked JUST LIKE THIS

Call me insensitive, but just because you think your child acting like a dog chasing it's tail is cute doesn't mean it is. Look, I like kids. I really do! I babysat from ages 9-24. I have been referenced as the "baby whisperer" for an acquaintance's kid that would cry when anyone held her except her mom (and apparently me). Given the option, I'd rather sit at the kids table than the grownup's table. Of course, this could also just mean that I am a kid and would rather talk about the best way to projectile a pea out of one's nostril than the latest fad diet or Lady Gaga or if the President is awesome/sucks.

Maybe this video is something that only parents understand. My other friend (who also has kids) commented on said video about how cute it was, and there was a litany of other "awww" "adorable!!" and "love it!" comments. Maybe I am in the minority. Either that or she has really mean friends who think it is just darling that her boys appear to have suffered brain trauma.

Yikes. I think I might be an awful person. It may be a good thing that my ovaries are shriveling up and my eggs are spoiling by the carton and that I seem destined to be an old maid cool aunt. That is sooooo much better than mommy dearest...

Mortal Kombat

In my quest to find fun new ways to workout, I have been trying the classes at the gym. Tonight's class was a pseudo boxing-karate-MMA workout called Bodycombat. I have to say there were more men in this group exercise class than any other class I've ever taken.... and I can understand why. It was like we were in a real-life version of a video game.

Imagine kicking and punching to this soundtrack:

The songs played didn't have the actual words "Mortal Kombat" to them, but you could use your imagination. And clearly these dudes were imagining themselves as such.

Hiiii-YAH!!

and

HUUUUHNAHH!!!

and

I am fierce ninja warrior!

so that they could ultimately (never) get this

Who, by the way, in reality would look more like this

Why do the women in video games always have huge inflated fake boobies that always seem to be missing nipples? Either that or the doc botched the job so bad the nips are no longer in the center of the boob...

I think I will file that with the questions of why some men think porn is real, why some people watch Fox News and think it is real, or why some people think global warming isn't real. *shakes head* *rolls eyes* *eats a cookie*

Call Me Sherlock

I am a little too good at cyber-stalking. I mean, researching online. If there is something to be found on a certain someone and I want to find it, I will. It's how I found out last year that my ex had a new girlfriend almost immediately after he dumped me. It's how I found out that a different ex (who somehow in five years of dating was never able to take me back home with him) took the very next girl to his high school reunion. I figured out who a guy was from OK Cupid with just a username and a picture. I am very very very good at finding things.

Found them!

But sometimes things are best left un-found.  I may or may not have had a drink or three and cyber-stalked browsed around my ex Todd's social media, which led me to his friend's social media, which led me to a post I really didn't want to read. Ugh!! Bob Newhart really says it best: "Stop it!"

Watch the video. Six minutes of genius. A good reminder to us all.

Fly away, little trolls

Redbull Tinder gives you wings, apparently.

I saw maybe 3 or 4 guys with these "wing" pictures before I started snapping screenshots. They are almost as prevalent as dude with dog/tiger/kid/faraway land pictures.

I mean, really? Ugh. Get me some Redbull, stat, so I can fly the f*ck out of here.