Bless his heart....

One of my co-workers is a single man in his mid-30s (I’ll call him Archie) who appears to be trapped in the “friend zone”. He tries and tries to attract woman in that I’m-so-debonairre-you-will-swoon-for-me-baby way (sorta like Cary Grant in An Affair to Remember) but typically falls flat on his face. The girls only want to be friends thus…“friend zone”.

He has no idea how to talk to girls. In fact, he’s so bad at it that you would swear he’s having a conversation with his Sigma Chi “bro” instead of a woman. Today I’ve heard him have two very unimpressive conversation with women in the office. The first ended when he mentioned he can play ping pong left handed. Yeah…that’s a real turn on. The second ended when he was detail how eating sushi doensn’t provide a good base in the stomach onto which you can add lots of alcohol; you need to eat something more substantial. He then referred to his friend who is getting married very soon as “pious”.

I felt like breaking into this conversation at that point and saying, “Oh I’m sorry…just because he doesn’t want to participate in round after round of quarters or brag about winning a beer pong tournament he’s pious? No, I think he’s just mature. By the way…he’s getting married so he did indeed find a girl!! You, on the other hand, will be going home to your galpal Rosie Palm!” Instead I held my tongue and rolled my eyes.

Needless to say neither of the girls rushed off to change their panties because they were so turned on by his charming conversations. Honest to God, the boy could be a gold medalist in the “Cockblock Yourself” event of the 2009 Man Olympics.

A couple weeks ago Archie and a couple other guys from work went to Atlantic City for a weekend of gambling. I told them to let me know if he went up there and used a phrase like “bros before hoes” and I was pleasantly surprised when it was reported back to me that he didn’t. However, during the trip they decided they need to visit a strip club. While there Archie spent about $100 on lap dances in the “private room”. They said after the first one he strutted out mouthing the word “yeah” like he’s just ridden the stripper like a bucking bronco. Lord help me!!

What man in his mid-30s acts that way??? Archie does….bless his heart…..

Chick out…

The things that men do.....

I'll get into this later but even though I'm single I do have 2 husbands....work husbands. What follows is a conversation between one of them and a member of the janitorial staff at work:

The cleaning lady that’s been sick for a week and a half is named Jenny.
She emptied my trash and I said, “You’re still sick?”
She said, "Yeah, it’s time for me to go to the doctor.
I said, "That should have been two days ago, now I’m afraid to breathe."
She hit me.
I told her, "Great, the one person that goes into every cube is sick."
She hit me.
She said, “Everyone on the other side of the building is sick, they probably gave it to me!”
I asked “Have you ever seen the movie Outbreak?”
She said, “Yes.”
I said, “You’re the monkey.”
She hit me.

This was the content of the actual email I received from him. He called her a monkey? Good Lord. I did laugh but I still can't believe he called her a monkey. Boys are soooooo stupid. I hope she peed in his garbage can after he left the office......

chick out.....

Unclaimed Treasure

I'm 41 and I'm single. I'm not...an old maid...nor a spinster...nor a lesbian!

I am an unclaimed treasure. By the way, I didn't make that up. I read it in a Laurie Notaro book a few years ago and I've prefered it ever since. What-the-hell-ever! I can steal stuff like that if I want and claim it as my own. I think it's a great a descriptive way to describe me.

I'm not the only unclaimed treasure around. In fact, many of my friends are unclaimed treasures also. That doesn't mean we don't want a man searching through our treasure chests every now and then but getting married just isn't our goal in life. Hell, some days my goal is to just make myself look like I wasn't run over my a herd of antelope in my sleep.

Let me whisper a secret in your ear...*I don't even want to get married*

Through out my blog you'll get to know me and my friends. I will change their names. Lord knows I don't want to tell stories about them and use their real names for the entire world wide web to read. What??? I get a kick out of myself. The only people that will probably read this blog are my friends so why change their names? Well I'm gonna do it anyway just to be safe. I think I'll give them sexy names like Monique, Gabrielle, Natasha, etc. I mean does't it sounds hilarious when I tell you that "Monique" once ate an entire bag of fat free (olestra) Doritos and was upset that she didn't end up with diarrhea. Not that "Monique" wanted diarrhea but she thought eating an entire bag would have some sort of adverse affect on her but NOTHING!

Anyway, that's how it goes. Hope you enjoy my little stories....

Chick out!!

Today I start my blog.....

Today I sent a funny description of my doctor's appointment to my girlfriends. One of them emailed back and said I should start a blog. Guess what....that's what I'm doing......

24 September 2009....the nutball starts her blog.....here is the email message that started the ball rolling:

Well today I had to go to the doctor for my annual “Lucy” exam. In case you all don’t remember, “Lucy” is the name my mother used for my girl parts when I was little. I have fretted for days and days about this because I dreaded it so. Did I dread the "Lucy" exam? Not so much….I dreaded stepping on the scales. To be more exact, I was afraid I would step on the scales and Jen, her assistant, would say something like, “Whoa!! Damn hell….we’re gonna have to weigh you on the other scales”. She would then proceed to take me to the nearest truck weigh station on I-95.

Like every other time, the first thing I do is step on the scales while Jen and I talk about my fabulous shoes. During the process, I never look at the scales. If I don’t see the number it doesn’t exist. After the weighing I prance on back to the exam room, strip down, and put on my gown. Today I was in for a surprise. Normally, the gown barely covers my bovine-sized body but today it was hanging off of me like it was a cast off from Ruby’s wardrobe (You know…Ruby on the Style Network…the lady from Savannah that’s lost like 300 pounds). I put it on and thought, “Oh my God!!! I’ve gotten so big that they’ve finally decided to give me the super obese sized gown. The one they use for people that come in for an appointment only after Richard Simmons goes to their home and has a work crew remove the side of their house so they can be removed. I sunk deeper into my fat despair.

When Dr. Speight came in she said, “Hey you’ve lost 8 pounds. You’re doing well.”

I wish you all could have been there to see the look on my face. Yesterday alone I ate an onion and cheese bagel with REAL cream cheese (not the low fat or non fat nonsense) for breakfast…I had a caesar salad absolutely dripping with dressing along with some sort of meaty-cheesy pasta for lunch….then I had a cheeseburger with mac and cheese for dinner. I then proceeded to have a huge peanut butter cup cookie for dessert. Last night around 10:00 I got a little “hongry” while watching Top Chef and had some kettle corn. Oh yeah, I also grabbed a block of pepper jack cheese from the fridge and just bit a hunk off…I didn’t slice it off all girlie with a knife…I had no time for that. Just opened my mouth and CHOMP! My God…how did I lose weight?

Needless to say when she told me I had lost weight I just looked over at her with a stunned look on my face and said, “I’m shocked”. She looked at me said, “Shocked?” and proceeded to laugh. She’s always laughing at me….kind of like the time I went in for a "Lucy" exam and she and the assistant were fooling around with something while I was laying there waiting for the exam. She finally said, “We’re having problems with the light. We can’t get it to come on.” I replied, “You’ve got a light down there???????” She laughed and said, “Yeah, we put a light on the speculum. How do you think we see?” How the hell did I know???

In the end I’ve decided that one of the following happened that resulted in my weight loss:
1. I shaved my legs really well last night so that might account for an 8 pound weight loss.
2. I stepped on the scales and broke them or screwed up the calibration.
3. I had an 8 pound poop. This one is highly unlikely but I’m still including it as part of the theory.

4. The last time Jen weighed me she put her foot on the scale to take it up a bit. This time she didn’t do that so it would appear that I lost weight. She feels sorry for me.

That’s my story for the day. I can hardly wait to go back in December!!!

Oh and by the way…they changed laundry companies and now have larger gowns. Dr. Speight told me that while she was futzing around. She said, “Now we have gowns that fit normal-sized people.” I was filled with glee…I wasn’t wearing one of Ruby’s castoffs!!!!! I actually sighed with relief…..