So there I was- 15 years ago- standing in a tiny chapel at Treasure Island in Las Vegas marrying a young man that I adored but pretty much knew "I do" was the wrong answer. I've spent the last 15 years trying to avoid this same mistake but as those who know me well know it can take time to convince myself that I do actually know what I am talking about from time to time. I married the second guy in the same city but different chapel- at the Monte Carlo. I know what you are thinking..."Are you karate kidding me! You got married twice in Vegas!!!" Or maybe even more pathetic- "You've been married twice!" Yep..I'm an equal opportunity divorcee. I wasn't living in Las Vegas at either point in my matrimonial vow taking..but I find myself here now. Wanting to stay but wanting to go all at the same time. The dating scene is quite like a freak parade. One look through any of my online dating accounts (yes, I have many!) at the various men who have "winked" "flirted" or just come out and asked if I wanted to "wrestle" would scare anyone off. I've just had an epiphany. Maybe online is not the place to meet good. eligible, non-Velcro wallet carrying guys. Well..I actually did realize that this summer and enlisted the oh so NOT helpful matchmaking service of eLove. I eLoathe my matchmaker. I want to stab her beady little eyes out. LOL..not that I've ever seen her eyes. But if she keeps referring these men to me that she says "I can't assume you wouldn't find him attractive"- well that statement speaks for itself. Heads will roll.
Yes.. I said karate kidding.( snort, giggle.. and I think I'M A GREAT CATCH! That's even funnier!)
I need a whole new perspective on this whole single late 30's woman. ohhh....not late..MID 30's. Yes.. that's better. A mid 30's woman with so much going for her- and who am I kidding. Most of the time a night at home blogging is 100 times more satisfying than dating. I have to say a night at home reading, picking the toe jam out of my big toenails (you gotta get that nasty funk out of there- it ain't healthy!), or sleeping has been more satisfying than most the dates I've been on- EVER. Except the one date where we had the Arcade Olympics and he won but was sweating like a beast after word...because apparently he was NOT going to lose to a girl! That was a fun date.
I was hoping that the date that I met in Baggage Claim at McCarren Airport would have been a huge success because I loved the uniqueness of our meeting location (totally my idea). He said it was zany. I should've known right then I wasn't going to be swept off my flip flops. Didn't Beaver Cleaver say zany. Or some other non-sexy person. The too short tie died t-shirt sealed the deal for me. He really was that super nice guy too..but that is also the problem. You can't be boy scouting all over me- makes me itch in my pants. I don't want a boy or even a guy. I want a man. And if I'm the manliest of the two of us..that is a MAJOR problem. Yes, I know I rewired a light and changed my own windshield wipers this summer..but really, if those little forays into anything resembling Tim the tool man Taylor are more than you've ever even contemplated, then adios nancy pants, come back when you can change my oil!
WHAT? Too picky?
Me? You bet your sweet nancy pants I am.
Dear Online Dating Dude-
No, I do not accept your chat request because I feel that the lack of self realization that allowed you to post that topless picture of you in the bathroom mirror (take number 126) is an obvious indication of how incredibly dense you are. And no I don't care how long anything is on your body whether it's 3 or 8 inches.. and on that same note, I would like to say your Hulk Hogan look alike winner trophy was glaring too much for me to really appreciate how NOT 43 years old you are. I hear Jerry Springer is looking for people to fill his studio audience, maybe you could meet your beloved there.
Yours, in as much respect as I can muster,
Brooke -not with a ten foot pole or a million dollars or if we were the last two living things on this planet- you haven't gotten the point yet, I'm politely trying to say- go fuck yourself- Albertson.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Friday, October 5, 2012
October 5, 2012
So there I was lying on the floor of a suite at Red Rock Hotel and Casino, with a large, flesh toned penis suction cupped to my forehead. Keepin it classy obviously, but let me get to the point. At what age does this type of nonsense become..."frowned upon" or even ridiculed by those younger than myself? Are Bachelorette parties after the age of 35 supposed to be more tame? In my expert opinion, and of course I have one, the older the attendees of the party, the crazier it is likely to become. Not in the..let's do a line of coke in the bathroom and party until 6 am three days from now..but less inhibited and more um...alcoholic in nature. Older women have a lot more stress they need to drink away! Let's compare a bachelorette party of a 25 year old and a 35 year old.
25 year old- has all her high school and college girlfriends attend and inevitably one if not all of them get snarky about the groom to be, old feuds, stolen boyfriends, ruined clothes, and the tacky/cheap/fill in the blank engagement ring.
35 year old- has her close friends (possibly those that helped her survive her divorce) her co-workers that she enjoys hanging out with and inevitably women that never knew each other start doing shots to salute their bride to be for finding a man that has a stable job, does his share of the household chores, doesn't have a huge beer gut, and realizes why AXE body spray is NOT his scent.
A 25 year old- will likely hold her party at a somewhat local venue, whether it be a club, a bar, someones "nice" house that has a pool, or a nice hotel where 8 girls sleep in a room made for 4. They go out for a group dinner at the Olive Garden, and chug drinks during happy hour (a bucket of beer for $10! SOLD!)
A 35 year old- might grab a plane to Vegas (unless you live there!) or South Beach and live the weekend in style in a hotel room (if not a suite) with no more than 4 women, and even then..it's usually less. There's always a pre-party where shenanigans ensue (before the VIP table is available) and these shenanigans will vary depending on the particular group involved. Will dine on amazing food, drink whatever they fancy at any time, and when the group decides which latest hot spot they will pounce on, they get there in style via a limousine.
A 25 year old- will wear something completely slutty likely bought from Charlotte Russe and be decorated from head to toe in the awful bachelorette/penis/ cardboard tiara..and will make all of her lemmings wear atrocious pink and white buttons that say "I'm with the Bride" to prove they are in fact with her.
A 35 year old- will buy a $300 dress and shoes and look amazing while donning only one piece of bachelorette/penis nonsense just for the sake of argument. If she chooses to wear a tiara..it will not be cardboard. Her entourage will look equally gorgeous and relaxed as they aren't worried that they only have $20 left and it's only 10:30.
The one common theme for both bachelorette parties is that there will be men who swarm around- usually- it's the weird creepy dudes that are in their late 40's and have Velcro wallets.
Strippers- they are no different for either group. Generally not worth the money, and really, once you've seen one pelvic thrust you've seen them all..usually makes for good blackmail photos though.
In the end- there is nothing that I've encountered so far that hasn't gotten better with age. Even if I might be carrying 10 pounds more at 35 then I did at 25, or have to be religious about covering the gray hairs that are showing up, I can honestly say I wouldn't go back. I feel a sense of pride and pity for the young 20 something brides, knowing that I was once one of them and knowing too, that it's a much harder road than any of them are expecting. I try, very hard I might add, to imagine those young brides living happily ever after. I always give a very heartfelt "Good luck to you"..but you will hardly ever hear me say "Congratulations". It is a rite of passage that often times is an emotional tsunami and no matter what- life will never be as simple as it was before.
But who am I to say..I'm a 36 year old double divorcee with a dog and two cats! and that suction cup penis is the closest thing I've had as a prospect in a long while! Holy cannoli...the next time I get married I'm going cheap and trashy (the wedding, not the man- fingers crossed)!
The moral of the story is this- something my sister has said to me a time or two.."Do whatever makes you feel like a Rock Star!"
Dear Mother Mary,
I want to thank you for ruining my sense of purity with your whole Immaculate Conception - why didn't you just fess up and tell it like it was..someone slipped you a micky and boom 9 months later you had a baby boy... oh..wait..that'll be the story I go with if I ever get knocked up. Either way..there's no comparing to you.
Keeping it Classy, your faithful servant, Brooke aka Dickhead Albertson
25 year old- has all her high school and college girlfriends attend and inevitably one if not all of them get snarky about the groom to be, old feuds, stolen boyfriends, ruined clothes, and the tacky/cheap/fill in the blank engagement ring.
35 year old- has her close friends (possibly those that helped her survive her divorce) her co-workers that she enjoys hanging out with and inevitably women that never knew each other start doing shots to salute their bride to be for finding a man that has a stable job, does his share of the household chores, doesn't have a huge beer gut, and realizes why AXE body spray is NOT his scent.
A 25 year old- will likely hold her party at a somewhat local venue, whether it be a club, a bar, someones "nice" house that has a pool, or a nice hotel where 8 girls sleep in a room made for 4. They go out for a group dinner at the Olive Garden, and chug drinks during happy hour (a bucket of beer for $10! SOLD!)
A 35 year old- might grab a plane to Vegas (unless you live there!) or South Beach and live the weekend in style in a hotel room (if not a suite) with no more than 4 women, and even then..it's usually less. There's always a pre-party where shenanigans ensue (before the VIP table is available) and these shenanigans will vary depending on the particular group involved. Will dine on amazing food, drink whatever they fancy at any time, and when the group decides which latest hot spot they will pounce on, they get there in style via a limousine.
A 25 year old- will wear something completely slutty likely bought from Charlotte Russe and be decorated from head to toe in the awful bachelorette/penis/ cardboard tiara..and will make all of her lemmings wear atrocious pink and white buttons that say "I'm with the Bride" to prove they are in fact with her.
A 35 year old- will buy a $300 dress and shoes and look amazing while donning only one piece of bachelorette/penis nonsense just for the sake of argument. If she chooses to wear a tiara..it will not be cardboard. Her entourage will look equally gorgeous and relaxed as they aren't worried that they only have $20 left and it's only 10:30.
The one common theme for both bachelorette parties is that there will be men who swarm around- usually- it's the weird creepy dudes that are in their late 40's and have Velcro wallets.
Strippers- they are no different for either group. Generally not worth the money, and really, once you've seen one pelvic thrust you've seen them all..usually makes for good blackmail photos though.
In the end- there is nothing that I've encountered so far that hasn't gotten better with age. Even if I might be carrying 10 pounds more at 35 then I did at 25, or have to be religious about covering the gray hairs that are showing up, I can honestly say I wouldn't go back. I feel a sense of pride and pity for the young 20 something brides, knowing that I was once one of them and knowing too, that it's a much harder road than any of them are expecting. I try, very hard I might add, to imagine those young brides living happily ever after. I always give a very heartfelt "Good luck to you"..but you will hardly ever hear me say "Congratulations". It is a rite of passage that often times is an emotional tsunami and no matter what- life will never be as simple as it was before.
But who am I to say..I'm a 36 year old double divorcee with a dog and two cats! and that suction cup penis is the closest thing I've had as a prospect in a long while! Holy cannoli...the next time I get married I'm going cheap and trashy (the wedding, not the man- fingers crossed)!
The moral of the story is this- something my sister has said to me a time or two.."Do whatever makes you feel like a Rock Star!"
Dear Mother Mary,
I want to thank you for ruining my sense of purity with your whole Immaculate Conception - why didn't you just fess up and tell it like it was..someone slipped you a micky and boom 9 months later you had a baby boy... oh..wait..that'll be the story I go with if I ever get knocked up. Either way..there's no comparing to you.
Keeping it Classy, your faithful servant, Brooke aka Dickhead Albertson
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