new chonies

I got an email this week from a popular sweatshop-made underwear store (I'd tell you the name but then it wouldn't be a Secret...) telling me I could get new underdraws for the bargain price of 5 for $15! Three bucks a pair? Extending the time between laundry drudgery by five glorious days?

Plus, Vicki usually charges $28 for five pairs of drawers. I am a frugalista at her finest, and saving $13 was enough to make me brave the mall and all the trolls and kids and other horrible excuses for humanity that reside there.

I head straight to the undie store and weave craftily among the women with strollers and toddlers, the ladies clutching their winning scraps of fabric, only to realize that the "deal" underwear was a clever ruse to get me in for their semi-annual sale. And since the sale has been going on for a while all that was left of size medium were the strangest, ugliest chonies you ever saw in your life. And far too many "bride" rhinestone encrusted lacey bits. I even looked through the other sizes to see if somehow some magical set of size medium cute (or even wearable) skivvies were hiding from me. Not a decent foundation garment to be found. F*ck you Vicki, you lying vindictive little con artist. (Bitter Betty, underwear-less party of one)

Since I was at the mall, I figured I should at least stroll around to a couple of the stores and see if anyone had any wayyyy after Christmas sales where a thrifty princess could find some swag. As I swiftly mall-walked I realized if anyone heard the thoughts in my head I could be put away in jail, nay, solitary confinement in jail.

The middle-aged couple stumbling along, managing to take up the entire walkway weaving about, would have been stabbed in the head to be out of my way. The angsty-goth twenty-somethings I mentally shoved into the cement fountain. The darling elderly couple who stopped completely blocking the path between sweaters at the Gap would have been punched in the neck. The women unwrapping the noisiest hard candy in Macy's would have had the mint shoved down their throats and choked to death.

I'm a really nice person. Ask anyone. Super nice. So when I was mentally cursing the designer of the escalators and their insignificant pea-brain for installing them opposite of how I would have I knew it was time to leave.

This is why I rarely go to the mall anymore. This is why online shopping is great. I like being not in jail. And slow, inconsiderate, annoying, f*cktards can still go to the mall in peace.

offsides chick

Sometimes I google old boyfriends. Just to see. Not my proudest moments, but... whatever. Like you've never done anything embarrassing. I'm not sure what made me think of him, but the other day I decided to look up Chris (fka "Todd" on this blog, but I don't give a shit about protecting his identity anymore). He doesn't do social media except for his sportscaster personality page on FB and a work twitter. And he has a common name so even if he did, I wouldn't necessarily be able to find his personal accounts.

After we ended things back in January 2015, I saw some tweet that made me think he was dating his co-worker the traffic gal at his TV News station. The tweet just said she was pretty, which could have been nothing, but... my gut said otherwise. At the time I wondered if he started dating her after we broke up or if she was the reason for the breakup. Of course she also has a very common name, so I can't find her anywhere on social media either except for her professional page... until the other day when I decide to google their two names together. *side note - I should teach a class on google stalking* And I find their "The Knot" page. They are getting married this summer.

I quickly click over to the "about us" section and see they have been dating since approximately May 2014. Chris and I dated Sept 2014 - Jan 2015. I even double check my old calendar to make sure. Yep. There's my flights to Seattle, his flight to LA, our dates, everything. I feel sick. This is the guy that wanted to spend Christmas with me and my family. But is also the guy who also wouldn't tell his parents about me because he "didn't like his parents nosing in his relationships."

And for a little light reading...

Here is the post about when we met.

Here is the post about our "first dates".

And the one where we were over.

Now the thing is, I was good with the whole situation. I had long ago made peace with the fact that we were not supposed to be together, that long distance was a much too difficult way to begin a relationship, that I deserved someone who made me a priority. I still feel that way. But now it is thrust upon me that I was inadvertently and unknowingly a side-chick.

did NOT know. *facepalm*

Mostly I feel badly for her. I don't know if she knows about me. I don't know anything about their relationship, but in general by the 5 month mark things are fairly serious and perhaps the "L" word has even been bandied about. They would have been dating about 5 months when he started things with me and seemingly juggled two "schmoopies" for a while. If it were me, I would want to know.

where is all started, and the happy couple

For their sake I hope I was a one-time-couldn't-resist-my-charms-fell-momentarily-in-love-but-then-realized-the-error-of-his-ways fluke and he is true to her now. As for me, I'm going to review my intuition see if it needs an overhaul.

'tis the season for credit card bills

jingle bells, batman smells, santa lost his way...

let's look at christmas gifts throughout my years:

young Joanna: barbie corvette

sorta-young Joanna: Whitney Houston cassette tape (greatest love of all!)

medium-young Joanna: leather jacket (clearly I was a badass)

college Joanna: cash (for booze, naturally)

and now, ... medium-old Joanna:

oh shit I just spent $850 on my car for tires and brakes how the f*ck am I going to pay for that???

Looks like Santa is bringing me a check made out to American Express.  Although apparently asking for the whole amount was a little much. At least Santa made a dent...

(sigh)... so much for the fun and excitement of opening presents on Christmas Day. Remember when it was so magical? Now its "your grown-ass child cannot pay her own bills," "use some of her inheritance now" and "bail her out one more time."

Longing for the good 'ole days where Christmas was about excess and things you don't need.

Don't judge a book by its alcohol content

Ahhh Christmas.  A time for drinking.  I always become slightly alcoholic at Christmastime.  What ever did I do before I turned 21? I'm sure I was miserable, although I can't really remember so I must have blocked it from memory.

my glass is on the left

This Christmas was a bit different.  No, not any less boozy.  In fact, maybe even more boozy. But usually it is just me, my folks and my brother.  This year, we had nearly a dozen including some soon-to-be extended family.  Recently my brother got engaged; I was going to meet her for the first time and also meet her brother.  Before the trip I was asking my bro about her bro and even though I must have gotten a pretty good description (the two boys are such good friends they braid each other's hair), for some reason the only two things that stuck in my memory banks were "smokes" and "likes to shoot guns." Now, I actually like to shoot guns (I've only done it a couple of times but boy was it strangely fun) but for some reason I created this vision of him in my head:

Now maybe this is the booze talking, but the guy I met was really smart, funny, sweet, charming and quite handsome.  What the hell kind of description did my brother tell me? Who knows, but it coulda been better.  I'd have packed something other than my usual bright-red-christmas-leftover-from-the-early-90s pants and light-up antler headband. Wait, now I'm feeling like a back woods country hick... Trying to impress my soon-to-be-brother-in-law-twice-removed? *shakes head* Time to detox my liver and get back to LA. ...Juuust in time for new year's eve, the last booziday (for those of you on the short bus that's booze and holiday combined into one word) of the year.  Which, incidentally, makes the first day of your new year one of headache, nausea, and laying on the couch cursing that sweet devil-friend alcohol.  Where's your resolution now, huh? Now go fix mommy a drink.