Tag Archives: birthday

Sad single girl

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Are you ready? This is a post I have been kicking around for a while. Weeks, maybe even months. Seems like there is never a good time, I SHOULD be doing many other things, “hey there… piles of junk stacked all over, way to clutter not only my space but my mind too.” Oh work, sure, yeah, I don’t need a life, I’ll just cover that shift, or stay late to get shit done. Website, although I am passionate about it, it’s all so overwhelming sometimes, and working with 10 min of daylight if I’m lucky any day. Well. Yuck. I don’t even want to start on the lack of Gym time.
Okay. I am 35. It kind of snuck up on me. My birthday came and went without the usual fan fare or celebration. I spent the day at home in my PJ’s. I talked to my parents, as they remembered this year (my mom never knows what day it is, so remembering date dependant events has never been her strength, Dad reminded her). Mom said “a break down doesn’t need to happen today.” So I shut out the world and warded off my breakdown.
How did this happen? It was a blink ago I was so HOT, and dancing on bars. I was going places, meeting people. I had plans. Get married, have kids, own a bar. Now I find myself 35, single, no kids, no bar (thank goodness). 35 is closer to 40 than 20. Yuck again. Yuck.
I’m still fairly attractive I suppose, how is that statement for wishy washy…I mean, I feel soft and frumpy right at the moment, but I have my charms. I am clean, for 35 I don’t have any grey, and my smile lines are developing nicely, but I don’t have much in the way of wrinkles.
So why the heck was this last birthday so tough? I mean honestly, I have a fabulous life. I don’t have to watch anything on TV I don’t want to. I don’t have to wear pants if I don’t want to. Had a rough day and feel like going home for a nap? Yeah, I can do that. I have no one but myself to provide for, feed and take care of. I mean, shit, once I pay rent, a can squander the rest of my money on animal print accessories, chocolates and things that sparkle. I feel like going for a drive and not coming home for 3 days, I can do that too. I am foot lose and fancy free.
It’s lonely.
And there are all sorts of social pressures. “You are STILL single.” “Don’t you want kids?” Blah blah blah. I resist my immediate response to tell people I am emotionally unavailable, and I pick men just like me. I want to cry . I want to laugh. I want to say “there must be a terrible flaw in me.” I want to give them a slow blink, turn on my (often awesome candy color stiletto) heel and walk away without muttering a single word.
I refuse to be in a relationship for the sake of not being single. And well, I don’t meet people sitting at home working on my food blog.
Some things need to immediately change. Covering shifts at work. Well, there will be an apathy flush. I am taking care of myself. Exercise. Every day. Has to happen. And blogging, writing for the sake of writing, likely on here because the other blog isn’t really mine, is good for my mental health. I can’t promise a lot, but so you know, I’m alive and struggling thru, and writing for you is on my radar. I will share my sad single girl tales…

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Possibly the oddest walk in clinic experience.

I had a birthday. I have now been on the planet 34 years. I have now made it to the age and station in life where my friends need notice to make plans. Spouses, kids, family, grown up work responsibilities. I now need to give people notice if I want them to show up. After last year the amazing L organized a surprise party, I figured my birthday celebration history peaked at that. She is amazing, and so organized, I think my friend T hit the wife jackpot! Anyways, never a huge birthday celebrator, the attention is uncomfortable, I procrastinated and made no plans until a couple days before. Friday morning I was pulling out my Tickle trunk to peruse costumes, and I smashed my toe. Stubbed it good on the door sill of the storage room. Running late already on my way to work, I didn’t even have time to swear at it much. I went to work and put in a full day, considering wether or not I should drill a hole thru my nail. With nail polish on-it looked okay…
Friday after work I went to Kelowna, picked up caramel latte, and went to scandia with Cherise, L&T. I felt like I couldn’t truly enjoy the DDR experience with my injured toe, but I powered thru. I had fun playing video games, I hope my company did too. From there we went for dinner at Joeys, and then Caramel latte and I visited with the King. You know you are getting old then you show up at a friends house at 10 pm on a friday night, and he is asleep on the couch, and then you find yourself talking about CBC programming. 10 pm on a friday night. Haha.
I spent most of Saturday drinking coffee in my onesie in bed. Visited with BRE, Karma took me for lunch and brought me a cupcake. I had 2 naps, and texted/chatted on the phone all day. My toe was still sore, but not throbbing, so I didn’t do anything about it.
I went back to Kelowna to meet Lib and we headed out again. Dinner and then the strippers. I went on a date last week, (still haven’t written it, I’m behind) and he met us at the strippers, as well as one of my guy friends. We had some laughs, the people watching was amazing, some really great costumes out and about. The date I still need to write, and name, is really engaging and we had a great time. Good to catch up with Lib too. Of course I was wearing some ridiculously heeled but open toed shoes. My toe was killing me.

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This is what 34 looks like on me

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Finally this morning I couldn’t take it any more. I decided a trip to the DR was necessary. Was it broken, did it need to be drained?
I stopped at Starbucks prepared to be at the walk in for a while. I had them put Brooke’s name on the cup, so we could have a virtual girl date. The girl at Starby’s looked at me like I was CRAZY. She knows my name, and was excessively confused when I ordered and started drinking my usual, with someone else’s name on the cup.

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Thanks for coming to the Dr. with me Brooke 😛

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So I am enjoying the seat in the clinic, drinking my coffee, with Virtual Brooke and reading http://www.rolereboot.org The Dr came in after just a few min. He was cheerful, and immediately asked me what I was doing in town? I have a vernon phone number and my GP is still in vernon. I explained that I lived here, but liked my GP, and rarely being sick, a once a year pap was all I really saw her for. He looked at my toe, moved it around a bit and determined it wasn’t broken, but I’d likely lose my nail, and it needed to be drained. If I was tougher I could have done that myself, but I’m a pansy…
He stepped out, came back with a little drill bit to open up my nail. He asked how I managed to do this to myself, and what costume I was looking for from the tickle trunk, I explained that it was my birthday and had spent the weekend out, he wanted to know what I had done, and then where I worked, why I moved to pen? I explained it as a fresh start after a long relationship, he asked why the relationship failed? In the span of 10 min he had asked more questions than most first dates get in over 45 min of coffee.
I was wondering to myself what any of this had to do with my stubbed toe, but he kept asking questions. He then disclosed that it was his wife’s birthday yesterday as well, and told me about their winery dinner, 8 courses of wonderfulness. In less than 15 min we exchanged a volume of information. After drilling 2 holes draining my toe and administering a band aid, it already felt better. I asked if there was anything special I should do to it? He said just walking on it should be fine. And then he said he would like to see me again. I asked If i needed to see him again? He said not really, but if I was looking for a new GP, He has a practice in town. He repeated his name, told me where his practice was located and said that I should phone and tell them he had accepted me, because although he had a closed practice he would be my family Dr. He said “I think that would be fun”. Fun? What is fun about being my GP? I could regale him with my hi jinx adventures? Once a year with my feet in stirrups? I was generally weirded out. Not creeped out in any way, it wasn’t a creep vibe I got from him, I think he is a super nice guy. Maybe he knows how hard it is to get a GP, people wait on lists for doctors with closed practices? Maybe my high causal REBA score gives me a good “energy” or aura that is attractive to people, and that was at work here? The whole experience was a head shaker. But my toe feels better!

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Birthday week

I have to brag a bit, I have some amazing friends, family, friends who are family. I am thankful and fortunate to have them in my life. I am rapidly approaching yet another birthday, and today especially, feeling old. Cherise has been asking me for a month what we are going to do. I can’t make a decision. There are a pile of things going on, parties and events. But where and with who do I spend my day? And what if people who I want to hang with can’t make it? I will feel rejected, something I have an especially hard time coping with. So I have been frozen, I can not make a decision. I want to do something casual, and fun. I want to spend time with people I love. I hate the pressure. If I spend it in a bar, my friends with kids can’t come, If I’m in kelowna my penticton friends won’t make it.
I am feeling old. And really alone today, which is unexplained as I was surrounded by friends and family all weekend. Out last night at Oktoberfest drinking beer with friends and flirting with boys, #13 was there and so was the 22 year old. The last month has been non stop events, dates, and I’ve had a really great time. But I am feeling very alone on this gorgeous sunny sunday. I can dissect the feeling, and over analyze, run circles in my head. I still will feel alone today.

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It’s my birthday!

33 years ago today I was born.  I don’t understand why I am celebrated today.  I mean I showed up, But I didn’t really do anything.  I arrived messy and crying (and relived a similar messy and puking for my 19th).  I was late,  2 weeks late and the joke for a few years was that I hadn’t been on time since.  My mom had gone into labour every friday for the 3 weeks leading up to my birth.  My dad was doing some running around and didn’t think it was the real deal.  My mom told me that he finally took her to the hospital when she threatened to have the baby in his car.  She wasn’t in labor for long, a couple hours, and she threatened to kick her family doctor in the face.  She also took me home right away.  No messing with my mother, I guess I come by this running hot stuff honestly.

I was a big baby, well over 8lbs, despite that my mom says I was the most dainty pink delicate thing she had ever seen.  100% girl.  Birth marks in all the right beauty spots.  An “accident”  my mom says, “the best mistake they ever made”.  My dad lovingly called me Hollering Demanding Yellin (instead of Holley Amanda Helen).  I was (am)  so loved.  They embraced who I was as an individual.  I would like to celebrate my parents today, and everything they have done for me.  I’ll have to phone my parents and wish them a happy “birthing day”  because my bet is they have no idea what the date is!

 

 

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