Ex Files: In Which Marriage is Proposed

It’s not every day a girl receives an offer of marriage–much less TWO offers of marriage within an hour time span. Gotta hand it to him–at least he was persistent ^_^

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In Which I Assess Degrees of Bacon

“Don’t go Bacon My Heart!– I couldn’t if I fried!”

It’s a pun only a bacon lover would appreciate–But no worries! As Paleo and clean eating increase in popularity, so does Bacon.

Memes like this abound on the interwebs
Memes like this abound on the interwebs

What is almost as popular as bacon? Online Dating– specifically Apps that allow users to swipe yes or no based on a single picture and MAYBE a phrase or two!

Enter the Oscar Mayer App named SIZZL.

“Must love bacon” sounds like a brilliant premise for a swipe-worthy relationship, so of COURSE I had to explore it! (Wouldn’t that be a great story for the grandkids? “How did you and grandpa meet?” “Well, kids, It was a match made in bacon!”)
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Worst Case Wednesdays: Sounds Legit

And We’re Back with Worst Case Wednesdays, your weekly dose of Worst Case scenarios from the online dating world.

 
This specimen comes from Craigslist, in which a hopeful landlord attempts to kill two birds with one stone by acquiring a renter AND a girlfriend with the same ad.
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In Which I am OK With Killing Mothers and Allowing Babies to Starve

Spring came exceedingly late to Minnesota, but it finally came.

One moment, it was endless snow, then dull brown barren nothingness.
Suddenly, the bleakness was transformed into glorious green lush, leafy loveliness and verdant freshness!

For two perfectly golden days, I enjoyed the warmth, basking in the glow of sudden spring. I went on long walks, reveled in the wearing of short-sleeved shirts, and gleefully pulled my capris and sandals from their long winter hibernation deep within the bowels of my closet.

It was amazing enough that my heart began to soften towards Minnesota, and I almost forgave the arctic vortex that this past winter had been.

Almost.

But on the third day of warm bliss, I arrived at the unfortunate realization that this land of ten thousand lakes was also the land of ten bajillion hungry mothers seeking food for their proliferate offspring.

Bella Swan had blood that the sparkly Edward Cullen found irresistible. Unfortunately, my blood is irresistible to blood suckers of another kind.

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In Which I Reblog: Priorities

In both of my online dating profiles, I mention plans for world domination; so I couldn’t resist sharing this when I saw it in my reader ^_^

Dammit! Where's My Chocolate?

122.WeNeedToLearn

We need to learn to be patient.  Not just with our friends, family and partners, but with our plans for world domination.

Evil can wait – what have you done for you today?

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In Which Not Running Is One of My Favorite Hobbies

Yesterday, my older sister completed a half marathon. I am incredibly proud of her and in deep admiration of her healthy choices and commitment to physical fitness.

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Look at her go!

(She’s the one in light blue–isn’t she lovely?)

Every day, it seems, pictures are cropping up in my Facebook newsfeed about marathons completed, Tough Mudders conquered, miles logged on a daily jog, etc.

Running seems to be the it thing these days—that thing that all the cool people do… The thing that all the healthy people do.

And I want to be motivated enough to run. Really, I do. But it seems like the only running I ever do is a) from my problems or b) in the opposite direction of spiders. (And that is generally a short-lived effort at best).

Running (Nay—athleticism in general!)  is just not my thing. But I feel excessively guilty about this. (Don’t ALL single twenty-something’s have a gym membership?) I briefly considered naming my bathroom Jim. That way, instead of going to the John first thing every morning, I could say I go to the Jim.
But semantics aside, I lack the motivation to turn thinking about wanting to run into actually—you know—running.

But different strokes for different folks, right? Some people are the spinach and kale type while others are more the pizza and ice cream type. I had always classified myself as the pizza and ice cream type until today.

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I fail at life

Alas, this morning, I realized that even ICE CREAM, when left out for too long, runs more than I do.

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Even Ice Cream is More Athletically Inclined Than I Am

It might be time to re-evaluate my life decisions.

Until then, If you ever see me running, you should probably start running, too, because chances are, something scary is chasing me.

In Which I’m Still Trying to Find Myself, But Others Find Me Humorous(ly)

“You’re just not what I’ m looking for.”

Been there. Done that. Never bought the t-shirt because–let’s face it– I’m way too cheap for souvenirs that aren’t at least figure-flattering, but I COULD have had I wanted to.

I get it. You’re looking for someone else–Someone smarter, prettier, lower maintenance, higher  maintenance, thinner, curvier, funnier, less cheesy,  more graceful, more gracious, more assertive, more compliant, more ambitious–whatever. You discovered that you wanted something different; and I’m just not what you’re looking for.

And yet, regardless of what you seek, I am what you found.

Recently, there has been a slew of searchers who, in their quest to obtain something else, have found me.

And it’s been hilarious.

Below is a sampling of the terms we’ve come through:

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