There Were Two in the Bed and the Little One Said Get the Fuck Out

For all my talk about dating and being in a relationship, I wonder if I actually even want to be in one at all. I like the idea in theory, but I'm so out of practice, I could be wrong. I mean I have a routine. It's my way or the highway and if you choose the highway I'll run you over with my car. I like the way things are now. If I brought someone else in then I'd probably have to accommodate them and I don't want to do that.But more importantly, I do not like sharing the bed. I move around a lot and like to sprawl, probably because I overheat easily.If I can't even share a bed, how can I share my life??

new girl i sing to myself

I haven't even lived in the same place for more than a year since I turned 18 seven years ago. Different dorms, different universities, different apartments. Everything was in a constant state of flux, but I think I wouldn't have minded staying in the same place for a couple of years. The only problem was the roommate situation.There is nothing inherently good about living with someone else. Best case scenario is that they have nice stuff they'll share with you. Unless of course YOU are the one sharing and THEY are taking. And taking. Andtakingandtakingandtaking and never giving back.But that's not even so bad. The worst thing about living with someone else is that they're around whenever they want. Even if you don't want. And I rarely want. The longest I've lived with another person is two years. It only happened once, against my better judgment, and it was awful.The only person I can count on is my cat.

But even our relationship is precarious at best. Like when she's meowing at me to pet her and love her but I'm trying to focus on finishing my large cheese pizza. But it's also pretty annoying when she shits on my carpet and pees on my bed.

Ok I mean that bed peeing thing only happened the first couple of months that I got her. But I was ready to turn her out on the streets. Honestly, one of the reasons why I got her instead of a kitten is because she's old and I know she'll die in a reasonable amount of time. Like 5 years tops.

How people my age are already reproducing ON PURPOSE is beyond me.AND THEN, just when I think I have it all figured out, some unreasonably hot guy strikes up a conversation with me at the grocery store as the sweat from my workout is drying and a new sweat mustache is forming. I'd forgotten a bobby pin so my bangs are all askew and I'm wearing my glasses, my makeup basically all melted off at that point.I basically looked like a monster.For some reason he asked for my number and then actually used it.I don't know. I don't get it. I give up.

Say You Will, Say You Won't, Make Up Your Mind

Is life really about doing what you want? Is that all there is to it, in the end? That's a sort of selfishness is appealing but can also be hurtful to others. So then it becomes a matter of which you care about less: getting what you want or hurting someone. There are a few things to consider. Like do I care about this person enough that I don't want hurt them? What if I choose not to hurt this person, don't get what I want, and I suffer instead? To what extent should we force ourselves to suffer so as to not cast that struggle on to someone else?Shit happens and people get hurt. That's the way it goes. We have to be selfish to make the best lives for ourselves. Other people can't be our main priority.For the record, I'm talking only about participating adultish people here. Not like people with families or major responsibilities or anything. That's the point of it all anyway, isn't it? To get those major responsibilities? To rely on ourselves. To find people who deserve our selflessness. Maybe being selfish comes first, so we can be selfless later. We're all working to get to what we want. To get the big career or family or that rad vacation or whatever it is. There's always a price to pay, something to lose, sacrifices to make.

regina george cheese fries gif

The In-Between

I wish I didn't feel such a great need to understand everything. I'm not talking about how computers work or anything like that. That sort of stuff has answers, as complicated and confusing as they are. I'm talking specifically about the question why. WHY do I feel the need to question everything? WHY does this person act like that, WHY did this or that happen? I want to understand intention and the way everything fits in the universe but at the moment I'm stuck on my own role in all this mess.If I had a job I'm sure it would be a less daunting question. We're all insignificant, but working for the Man or at least someone creates a sense of purpose. Make money doing a job you hate, or love, and then spend it on stuff you want or need or trips you want to take or whatever you want, really. Create fulfillment. But I'm still looking for a job since the store that I'd worked at closed, and I don't have those opportunities.I could take the easy way out and work in retail again or even In N Out. They make good money. But now I have this stupid thing called standards and want to find something stable. I don't want to commit, especially when I don't know exactly what I want to do, but I don't want to work in a glutton factory anymore. Glutton for materialism, glutton for food, whatever. I don't want to sell people shit they don't need or food that will kill them. I don't want to work with people at all, really, but that's probably asking for too much.So in the mean time I apply for jobs and go to interviews and nothing works out and this feeling of inadequacy grows. Logic is no match for the simplicity of emotion. As if emotion is anything but intensely complicated. But it does what it wants and despair is a tough feeling to conquer. I'm lucky to have parents who continue to support me while I continue to try and try and try but I'm starting to wonder why, why, why.Like I could move back to Maine. I don't have family there anymore but I have friends. I could fly back to LA twice a year for my school workshops. I was hot shit in Portland. I stood out. But it's different here. There's nothing like being surrounded by flawless females to crush a girl's confidence. Then again, that probably has a lot to do with the whole dating thing not working out. I couldn't have decided to give up on that game at a better time. Sometimes giving up really is just for the best. It's not like having a boyfriend matters. My standards are really not that high for what I want at this point, as far as commitment goes, anyway. But somehow it always ends in disappointment and disappointment is tiring.Then there are my friends. I have a few excellent ones, which is great, but this crew as a whole is just so unreliable. I don't know. Maybe it's me. I don't like the way it works, the one-on-one or little groups or big parties. Why can't it be a handful of friends, nothing prepared to death or rager reliant? Why do we always have to go out to dinner or a bar or fucking trapeze class or Palm Springs? Whyyyy do people need to plan even the littlest thing on Facebook? Why can't we get a group together and hang at home, drinks some beers, maybe smoke some weed, and watching a fucking movie? Maybe I'm just not invited to those casual hangouts. It's possible. Probably not. But maybe. But everyone has their stupid little drama and I'm sorry friends, but it really is stupid. It shouldn't be so difficult to get a handful of people together, but it is because one person already has plans and someone doesn't like someone else.I like the mix of chicks and dicks that I grew up with, a mix that apparently doesn't really exist here, because maybe men and women really can't just be friends. Or maybe it's just me. Is it? That's the worst question and I'm sure if I actually asked, I wouldn't get a straight answer. I miss my old friends, the ones I've known since middle school. I miss the friendships that are reliable and rock solid. I liked having a small crew of people who all liked each other, who had gotten over the bullshit years ago. It takes years of interest and effort to create that and I want it now. Right now. But I don't even know who's a reliable choice and who's got that brand of LA flake that I'm learning to hate and simultaneously become.I don't like this in-between.

She's Saving Herself For Luke Perry

I've been dating two different guys for the past month. That's not actually interesting in itself, but what is interesting is that the other night I got to tell one of them "I think you're too involved in your own life to be involved in mine," which makes me feel oh-so grown up, like in an I'm-still-five-years-old-feeling-like-how-I-thought-I'd-be-when-I-was-twenty sort of way. Like when I was seven years old and had a literal dream about being ten because the idea of being in the double digits was so incredible.Like woah dude, so grown up.And then the very next day I got to tell the other one, the one who I've only gone out on TWO dates with because even though we seem to genuinely like each other, we are also actually busy doing other stuff like having a life in general, you know, so it's not even at all serious. Except we do make a point to keep in touch, so.

you could say napoleon dynamite

What was I saying? Yeah, I got to tell this guy that I didn't like making plans spur of the moment like he does. I am busy and have other people to hang out with, buddy. Oh, this was on the phone, by the way. Not texting. Actual voice to voice contact. Because he's a rad dude, that's why. After I told him that, you know what he said to me? "You're gonna have to get used to it if you hang out with me," or something to that effect. I was just like

dianna agron eyebrow raise

"OH DO I NOW?"

Those are the words that I said to him. And then I was like haha no. Because seriously, no.*

Don't get me wrong, sometimes I'm up for last minute business, if I've spent the day unemployed, on my couch, re-watching Orphan Black in order to prepare for the season premiere next month. Just don't tell him that. I'd like to set some sort of precedent, thanks, that specifies I don't work around this kid's schedule, this fuckin west side rich kid who didn't even kiss me on the first date.

My mother would approve.

*We're going out again later this week.

Adventures in Adulting: Eggplant Edition

I unexpectedly ended up with nothing to do today.  I went into work only to discover that I did not have to work (and I drove all the way to the Valley, BY THE WAY), and then had my plans for the night cancelled a few hours in advance.

I spent yesterday doing nothing and didn't particularly enjoy it, so I didn't really want to spend today the same way.

I've been wanting to get into cooking.  I really like it in theory.  The problem is that I would actually have to cook, which I am not so keen on.  As you can imagine, this has presented quite a conundrum.

I saw my day going two possible ways:

1) I could do all of the responsible things that don't seem to go away no matter how much I ignore them

2) I could try some cooking in the hope that my future-rich-husband will sense that I am blossoming into a real adult, come find me, and take care of all my responsibilities for me.

So I chose to do the latter.

For the record, there is no danger of this turning into a cooking blog.  I also know that being an adult does not require one to be able to cook.  I just figure that since I'm going to marry someone rich so I can achieve my goal of sitting at home writing all day, I should have some domestic skills.  I already have rockstar level laundry skills and my folding is quite excellent.  Cooking is just the next logical step to me living a life of housewife bliss.

I didn't follow a recipe because rules are for squares but also our oven doesn't work and all the recipes I found called for one.  Whatever.  I'm living on the edge, coloring outside the lines, cooking eggplant on the stove.  Nbd guys.*

So I sliced the eggplant.  It went pretty well.  I still have all my digits.

cut that eggplant

I rinsed all the slices.  Again, things went well.  I was feeling confident.

I covered each slice in salt.  That was kind of a mistake, as I was actually supposed to "sprinkle" some salt on.  Cover, sprinkle, same dif.

Doused each slice (ranging from a quarter of an inch to half an inch, give or take) in grapeseed oil (I'm sure any oil will work.  I just randomly had grapeseed when I tried and failed at making falafel) and coated in bread crumbs.

Then I threw those fuckers into a pan on the stove.  The temperature was set to medium.  I just waited til they were brown and soft. I estimated the time.

Like I said, rules are for squares.

grilling alright alrightThe almost finished product

And um, my breaded eggplant is the BOMB.  It's a little extra salty but if you don't like salt then you can just exit now ok.**

done and delish

Those two mystery toppings are mozzarella and tomato.  Not to insult your intelligence, since it's pretty obvious, but I didn't want to assume or anything...

Also you can ignore that little green garnish on top.  I don't actually even know what it is.  Some nice lady gave me a bunch of tomatoes and some herbs as well but I don't know how to use herbs when I cook sooo I just threw it on top for it to look nice when I took the picture then promptly tossed it as it smelled sort of funny.

I believe that I have earned my rich husband now.  I eagerly await his arrival.

The end.

*I also may have left out a step or two.  Like nothing huge but I'm not the most detail oriented person so don't follow my "directions" please for the love of god.

**I do not recommend covering in salt.  Do not.  A sprinkle will suffice.

Today Was A Good Day

Today I made a salad myself and I even ate it.  Further, I actually really enjoyed it.  Then, on top of that, I bought a step ladder.  With my own money.  To better clean my apartment.I'm going to consider today's foray into adulthood a success.  I believe the term the youths use is "adulting."schmidt new girl youths gifI mean, I also ended up lugging said step ladder around Target for a good 10 minutes while I searched for the cotton balls, but nobody's perfect.