My Ex is Engaged

I found out that my ex of 6 years got engaged. How are you honestly supposed to feel when this happens? Another girlfriend of mine had an ex have a baby this month. Though she and I are both in new, happy, committed relationships, there is still a strange, nostalgic feeling that accompanies news like this. We questioned ourselves: is it normal to feel this way?

Ironically, K and I discussed this the week before I found out the news. He said he thinks it's more difficult for girls for some reason. And I think he's right. I'm not quite sure why though. Is it because that person was such a big part of your life for so many years? Because there was a point in time when you thought that would be you standing next to him?

But you don't want to be with him. And even though my ex and I are still on good terms, there was a reason we broke up; we just weren't right together.

Remember my recurring wedding dream? If you don't, I'll rehash: for years, I have had this recurring dream in which I am preparing in the dressing room, getting ready to walk down the aisle. The dress and church were different each time, and I could never see the groom's face, though it was different each time. Every time, my mom and sister turned to me and said, "don't do it if you don't want to," and I wound up running out the back door, leaving the mystery groom at the altar. Each time, I woke up in a cold sweat after this nightmare. Then, a few weeks after I met K, I had the same dream. But it was different. I felt different. I was so happy, and for the first time, I could see that it was him standing at the altar, and I couldn't wait to marry him. That was the last time I ever had the dream.

My BFF Sarah made a valid point about the whole thing: she said it's the closing of the final chapter of what once was a big part of your life. That finality, that officially saying goodbye to your past. Maybe what it's really all about is letting go. And sometimes that is a tough thing to do.

But you know, in all honesty--I've had some time to let the news sink in, and even though this stirs up strange feelings of nostalgia, I truly am happy for him. And I actually like his fiancee, too. I wish the best for them both, and I honestly can't wait for the day I get to share all of this wedding/engagement excitement with K.

So you KNOW you're happy in your new relationship, but you just can't help but feel strangely nostalgic about the news. Why is this? Has anyone else had this happen? I suppose it's natural since we're *COUGH* almost 30 *COUGH*...

Epic Fail Monday: Prison Tats and Canadian Tuxedos

Happy Epic Fail Monday! Here are a few LOLs to get you through the toughest day of the week.

Prison tattoo fail. I hope that's Sharpie, Ashley.

That's what she said?

Naked man and kittens: sexy fail.

Nice Canadian tuxedo, Ryan Seacrest. Fashion fail.

A whole FEST? For JESUS?! Sounds like a blast in a glass.

Isn't it a bit too late for this suggestion?

Is there a breeze in here?

Whoever designed the haute couture "gowns" (and I use the term loosely) that you're destined to adorn during your doctor's visit should be tarred and feathered. Ladies, I know you get where I'm coming from on this one.

Every gown is different--some slip over your head, with giant slits up the side. Some are shaped like a coat, with sleeves, completely open in the front. The worst of them all? They tie at the neck and split down the front, leaving everything that you want to cover exposed. And a dainty little bow tied at your throat, mocking the loss of your dignity.

You sit on the table, paper crunching under your butt, legs crossed, tucking in the corners of your paper garment in a pathetically desperate attempt to retain a shred of privacy.

Then, you're supposed to act like a grown up in front of a complete stranger in a white coat, talking about the weather, or sports, or cheeseburgers, while they poke and prod in the places you least enjoy being poked and prodded. In your dainty paper gown, that has now lost all integrity as an item of clothing.

You'd think it would get easier as you get older. But no matter how many years go by, I find myself curled in the same pseudo-fetal position, feeling as awkward as one of those dreams where you find yourself running down the school hallway naked.

Police Blotter Wednesday: Don't Drink and Hoverround

June 20, 4:50pm 
Police responded to the rear lot of the high school to assist EMS with a report of an injured man. The patrol officer found a man who said he crashed his motorized cart after drinking six or seven beers. The man was taken to the hospital for treatment of a laceration to his right knee and others to his upper arms.

What did we learn today, kiddies? You can take your Hoverround to the Grand Canyon, but you best not be driving it drunk.

Police Blotter Monday: The Street Masturbator

May 19 - 5:55pm
A caller reported to police seeing a man step into the street, drop his pants and begin to masturbate in the Washington Avenue area the previous night about 9:30pm. The caller said she was not sure she could identify the subject but wanted to report the incident in case it happens again.

Oh, Stars Hollow--how you've evolved from a one horse town to a red light district. I guess it's mating season, so those who can't find a mate - drop their pants in the street and go to town.

I guess I can see it: a hot Wednesday evening in the spring, out for a nice walk before the sun goes down, and you want everyone in town to know how you're feeling--especially that nice old lady on Washington Ave.

What I don't understand is, why in the middle of the street? You could have at least stayed on the sidewalk so you didn't create a traffic hazard. Or even done your business in the privacy of your own home on whore island. And couldn't you have waited until it was actually dark, at say--oh, 10pm?

I guess when the mood strikes, you get caught up in the moment.

As for me, I'm super pissed I missed this spectacle. But I'll take the old lady's word for it, and keep my eye out for creepy strangers unbuckling their belts in the middle of the street.

Dirty dirty sex, or a dirty dirty pig.

My sister and future brother in law (JB--short for Johnny Bananas) have a new neighbor. A short, hairy, oinky new neighbor.

That's right... a pig.

The kicker is that they live in an apartment. And so do the people next to them, who own the pig. They also have three kids and a dog.

What is this, a clown car? Where do you fit all of these creatures?

JB told my sister a few weeks ago that he thought he heard squeaking, or some odd noise coming from the neighboring apartment. My sister told him he was crazy... until she saw the hog for herself. Standing in her upstairs bathroom a few days later, she could see down into the neighbor's back yard and noticed a wire fence, a kiddie pool, and a giant, brown PIG.

She immediately called JB and told him he had been right all along. And bowed down to his animal noise deciphering skills. Okay, maybe not so much. But still--he was RIGHT.

This was his reaction: "I knew it! I just... I heard oinking, and I thought... it's either dirty dirty sex, or a dirty dirty pig."

So until we figure out what the hell kind of circus act their neighbors have going on over there, we will continue to stand with our faces pressed up against their fence, trying to catch a glimpse of Wilbur the pig.

Police Blotter Friday: Lost in the Wood.

April 16th - 10:05pm

Police were dispatched to Washington Street for a caller reporting a missing person. The officer then spoke with a woman who said her husband sent her a text message reporting being "lost in the wood." The officer had a dispatch 'ping' the phone and it showed the last time it had been used was in a neighboring town. 

It's super easy to get lost...you let go of your mom's hand at the mall and wander into the Toys-R-Us for a Tickle Me Elmo, and suddenly you turn around and realize you have no idea where you are. Terrifying. I'm sure that's just what happened. To a grown man. Who found himself lost in the woods.

Why a text message? If he had the ability to text, he certainly could have at the very least called his wife to have her mapquest him out of the wood. Or hopped on the interwebs and figured it out himself. Hey, they say the iPhone tracks you wherever you go anyways.

I can only imagine how that convo went:

Wife: Hey asshole, when are you coming home?

Husband: Don't know.

Wife: Why? Where the hell are you?
Husband: Lost in the wood.

And what exactly was he doing in the wood? In a neighboring town? Did he follow a white rabbit in a waistcoat? Shrink himself down with magic potion then run three miles giggling like a schoolgirl until he realized he was lost in the wood?

I sure hope he managed to click his red heels and make it home to his loving wife, who was obviously very worried about him. And sir, just a suggestion: maybe it's time to upgrade to a smart phone with GPS features? Or at the very least, a compass.

Never let go, Jack.

The actual cover art. No joke.

Yesterday, I was browsing our Netflix queue... Maniac Nurses Find Ecstasy... X-Files... Alien vs. Predator... Titanic 2? Really?

I looked it up on IMDB to see if it was legit. Believe it or not, it was.

"On the 100th anniversary of the original voyage, a modern luxury liner christened "Titanic 2," follows the path of its namesake. But when a tsunami hurls an ice berg into the new ship's path, the passengers and crew must fight to avoid a similar fate." 

*Tilts head and frowns*

 Okay, passengers of the luxurious new ship... I have a few questions. I don't know if you caught the adventures of Jack and Kate on any one of the thousands of times it has been re-run on TBS, but I'll sum up their bitter end for you in three words: iceberg, right ahead.

We all know what happened to those unlucky passengers of the first Titanic on that cold April evening. And I'm sure some of you were dying to recreate the naked painting scene and maybe even the romp in the carriage (cue handprint on window). But was it worth suffering through the ENTIRE experience again?

Were you really surprised when your ship got hit by another iceberg, closely resembling the fate of your predecessor? I mean--the tsunami was a bit of a monkey wrench; I'll give you that. But I'm assuming the end result is pretty much the same.

I didn't happen to catch your sequel since it went straight to DVD, but I imagine you all faced many of the same challenges that Jack and his friends did on the first go-around. I wish you all the best, and I at least hope you had enough lifeboats this time.

I can has cheezburger?

It's no secret that I have a newly reignited obsession with Maury. I love watching him deliberately put on his glasses, read the paternity tests and announce: "You are NOT the father!"

Every once in a blue moon, they feature the 'bad girl' episodes. You know, "My 12-Year-Old Daughter Is The Village Bicycle." Those kinds of shows. These are truly gems.

Oh, Audreeana. I think your parents sealed your fate when they added the double 'e' to your name. Those hoop earrings don't help much either. I'm sure you're a very sweet girl, and god knows I've had insane cravings for a cheeseburger before too. (A girl's got to eat, right?) But trading a happy meal for sexual favors? At least get yourself some steak and potatoes, girl. You're going to be hungry again in an hour anyway. 

I guess you gotta do what you gotta do. I mean even those LOLcats need some noms every now and again.

But next time, maybe just go up to the counter and ask for one. I'm sure somebody will take pity on you and slide you a quarter pounder.

Redneck Raking

This weekend, I strapped on my swishy pants and Tractor Supply galoshes and stomped around the house scaring the cats. (They're terrified of the swishy pants.) We got down and dirty after buying planters and yard decorations from a surprise 50% off sale at Joann Fabrics. (Who knew?!)

At one point during the digging, K went out back to mow the lawn while I finished up planting the flowers in the front yard. I was standing at the kitchen sink washing my hands post-planting, when I saw a giant plume of smoke rising from the middle of the yard. It was then that I realized I didn't hear the mower anymore, and I couldn't see K.

I dashed out back to assist in the fire extinguising. I assumed the lawn mower had exploded into tiny bits, and visions of K lying on the lawn with shards of grassy mower shrapnel filled my mind.

What I found instead was K crouched in the middle of the lawn, lighting a square of grass on fire. With a blowtorch.

The "test patch" that K burned into our lawn.

I stood for a moment, head cocked in questioning disapproval and confusion. What... was he doing? Making crop circles in case aliens decided to descend upon us?

"Honey, what are you doing?" I yelled, anxiously awaiting his explanation.
"Burning the dry grass," he replied matter-of-factly.
"Uh... what? Why are you torching a square into the lawn?"
"It burns up the dry grass so the other grass can grow through it. Haven't you ever seen it?"
"No. I grew up in the suburbs, honey. I've never seen anyone light their lawn on fire."
"It's great! The lawn grows back fuller and thicker. I'm doing a test patch."
"A test patch... in the middle of the lawn?"
"Yeah! It's redneck raking!"

I sucked both lips in and tilted my head in the other direction, contemplating how to wrap my mind around what was transpiring. He was already done though, and there it was: a big giant square of burned lawn, right there in the middle of the yard.

And there you have it. What K likes to call "redneck raking."

We should start doing internet videos about redneck yard work. I think they'd be a big hit for the folks over at Tractor Supply.

Camo and Lace: The Teen Mom Divorce

I am DEVASTATED, people. Yesterday, when I turned to my friendly neighborhood gossip queen's website, PerezHilton.com, I discovered that Leah and Corey from Teen Mom 2 are getting a divorce.

And my heart sank like it was two people I actually knew in real life.

What happened, you two? You were such a beautiful couple. You gave me faith that a teenage pregnancy doesn't always end up in domestic violence, stolen credit cards and jail time. I honestly rooted for you and (though I will vehemently deny it) TOTALLY teared up when Corey hooked that ring on the end of that fishing pole and asked Leah to marry him. I cried even harder when they walked down the aisle in camo and lace.

We know you two have stressful lives with those two beautiful baby girls, one with disabilities. I'm SURE it is a handful for you both. Honestly, I'm 27 and I feel like taking a nap every time I think about it. But you seemed so HAPPY! Leah gave up seeing her ex, Robbie for you, Corey. And despite the unseen moment where you flirted with the bartender at that cowboy bar, Leah stuck by your side through it all.

So where did it all go wrong? I am honest to god heartbroken and demand an explanation for the downfall of your seemingly loving marriage.