Month: November 2017

but you need someone to tell that solitude is fine.  This is a hard post to write mainly because No Names Please is a rule, and the Boomlennial is a total rule follower hahahahahaha.  So I will just talk about my Manfriend(s) and my long weekend without him(s).  I’m not new to the being alone game, but when I went to revisit it after a long spell of coupling it was just a bit rattling.  I have such fascinating stories to tell and the fish that has lived five years floating on his back just isn’t a good companion.  (A very good pet BTW.  Just throw food at his head every couple days.).  The dog cries when I yell at the Buckeyes and runs when I yell at the Browns.  We will analyze my anger issues another time.  Fortunately, sports gets the brunt of it so you are all pretty safe.  For now.  So my Manfriend(s) went to visit his family(s) out of town for Thanksgiving which is what that day is for.  And to be thankful that it is only one day of massive eating and smiling and watching the parade which calls me and yes I still get excited when Santa make his appearance.  Which probably does explain why I was watching alone.  Weirdo.  But my manfriend(s) is ok with that.  Something to be grateful for.  He is ok with the smart stuff, and the cray cray stuff, and the boring stuff of which there is none.  Ever.  All fascinating.  Manfriend(s) is back and I guess all the cliches about being away are true but I would never use a cliche.  How cliche.  Manfriend(s) funs me, calms me, strokes me (eeeeewwwww) and lets me tell him(s) anything while biting his(s) tongue.  And I think he would say the same about his Ladyfriend(s).  We(s) do not take it for granted this late in the game to make this connection.  Yahtzee!

Not a good day.  It has come to this.  Just when I thought it wasn’t possible.  I have lost a follower.  I got the whole story why and should have taken notes which I suggested because I knew alllll those reasons would escape me days later which they have darn bloodies.  Which is really okay because now I can make it all up and since they are my X they won’t see my diatribe and I can certainly run with a bit of truth.  Which might have been the point hmmmmm.  My X may or may not be one of my dearests.  See, no names please.  And I may or may not reference them when blahing on and on about nothing which is pretty much what this blogue does.  Just a place holder until that book deal comes through and the Today show.  Hope they do my hair and makeup.  And have good lighting.  And book me on the same day as George Clooney and Brett Favre.  See??  About absolutely nothing.  But my X feels like he/she may have been called out or blah blahed about which may or may not be true,  but when you have Almost a million followers I’m not sure if that dotted line leads there.  The Boomlennial has a whole-lots-oh-characters in the book of life and can dig one out of the archives to make a point when necessary.  And let’s face it.  None of us are getting more normal as the ants go marching one by one hurrah hooray.  I will miss my X not being here, though, because they are being deprived of so much enriching blah blah and that makes me sad.  I’m sure Matt Lauer will want to explore that further….

Life says:  ‘She did this’.  Books are where things are explained to you.  And we need that.  We are terrible at drawing our own conclusions on others motivations, yet we think in absolutes.  I always say there are three sides to every story.  His side, her side, and the truth.  Yet we are quick to believe and make judgements without finishing the book.  The media has blown that into a whole new level of absurdity.  And monotony.  They take a ‘breaking’ story and rehash it for days.  Old news yet it never seems to get to the back pages.  I’ll wait till the book comes out.  Now one absolutely absolute whole truth and nothing but the truth is that there are two types of people, readers and non-readers.  And they will never understand each other.  The brilliant, interesting readers cannot understand how/why someone doesn’t like to read books.  I know, right??   And the non-reader finds it boring and will never get how/why someone finds that pleasurable.  Maybe I just need life explained to me.  Every book I read is non-fiction. Even the fiction books.  I believe it all.  Two paragraphs into a book I know if I’m going to like it and Believe.  Steven King’s Pet Cemetary still makes me look at my animals weirdly and doubt them.  A good book carries you to places you’re never going to be.  All real to me.  And always there for me.  No judgements.

Yep hear me out.  Christmas in December is off.  Done.  Not sponge worthy.  But the November celebration is so fun!!!  In November you can go to the grocery store and buy all those Ziploc containers with red and green snowflakes and pretend you’re going to fill them with scrumptious cookies for everyone knowing that the oven will remain clean and like new.  Kleenex in cute little boxes with reindeer wearing ornament necklaces.  Adorbs.  By June the frolic gets a bit tiring when allergies replace colds but for now I’m excited when I sneeze.  The ‘Limited Addition’ snowflake shaped Ritz crackers are so worth the buildup.  Won’t be finding those in December my friend.   My mailbox is leaning with the weight of all those catalogs I have no intention of shopping from, but will plan my new shiny wardrobe for all those parties I won’t be invited to.  Can’t put up a tree yet or it will become naked and fire bait soon enough.  I am so into this November holiday season!!!    And then.  And then.  It’s December and people start asking me confusing  questions.  “Are you  READY FOR CHRISTMAS????”  said with a panicked look in their eyes.  Nope, haven’t even started training yet.  I am ready for some football, however, and intend to watch a lot of it until it vanishes poof.  “Do you have your SHOPPING ALLLL DONE”??????  Oh yea.  Two hours on Amazon takes care of that.  In a world where people drop a G for a new phone because it has moving emojis, they aren’t waiting for me to fill their every wish.  My dearests have enough socks and underwear.  Even my wee dearests end up with toooooo much because at least their stuff is cool and they are still growing.  And not just Boomlennial sideways.  Will give it my best to make sure they stay unjaded and continue to believe that Santa sees you when you’re sleeping, and knows when you’re awake, and knows if you’ve been bad or good so be good for goodness sake!  Now that song is just mean.  Won’t be belting that out this November.  Just going to sit back and let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.  And watch the pretty colored leaves pile up.

This whole subject might not be of total interst to my half million male followers, but it should be.  If you have any females in your life it is of most importance.  Okay, second most.  Are you still here??  I’m talking about black tights season.  I’ve waited all spring and summer for this and not just for me but the women in my world who could use a little something something.    I’ve found it of extra importance this year because my pup/cow likes to ram into my legs creating blotches and bloody holes that nobody needs to see.  This week has been particularly rough because he’s wearing the cone of shame after a nip snip that he should be proud of since it shows all those b*tches that he is a caring, responsible male.  But being that I’m the only b*tch in his life he has been battering me with that cone and it hurts!  All those half moon bruises aren’t making me respect his decision.  Black tights ahhhh.  Pantyhose are out of style but that is something I’m hoping comes back and I’m counting on men to encourage their ladies to wear them.  As much as the Boomlennial woman and her younger compadres might think they look good naked legged, they don’t.  Tatoos can be attractive, but when they have matching lines and lumps and stuff not out of an ink bottle it’s just kind of ewwwww.  Then the lumpiness moves up to the a$$ which could just benefit from something to support all that jiggle.  Princess Kate always has a nice pair of shiny legs and should be our role model.  Who never wanted to be a princess, right?   So join the movement.  Black Tights Matter.