Letters to My Boss – A collection of real e-mails to a former employer

I know that it has been a while since I last blogged, however I have had good reason.  2013 really hasn't been my year.  Call it karma, call it fate, call it whatever you will, my life kind of shit the bed starting in March, spiraling out of control by summer, and it wasn't until recently that I bounced back and returned on the grid.  I've learned a lot about life, people, and love during the past 9 months and I didn’t feel comfortable blogging, due to the dark depressed state that I had put myself in. 

               

  With that being said, I have been saving this next blog for a time when I knew it would be appreciated.  If you are reading this blog, you have just put its popularity one click closer to reaching 10k views.  When I first started this, I never imagined that so many people would take an interest to it.  I started it solely on the basis of giving people a good read, but unfortunately there were those that took it a bit too serious and literal.  I knew that I must have been doing something right when people (that didn’t do a very good job of hiding their “anonymous” identities) started posting negative comments that didn’t even pertain to the blog itself, but instead decided to take personal shots at me.  I figured I must have been doing something right and I was pissing off the right people.  This is when I first discovered the fakeness of “Facebook” friends.  

                

All seriousness aside, there was a time in my career when going to work was the equivalent of hanging out with friends and I had the world’s coolest boss.  During the good times, going to work was as much fun as a real life episode of “The Office”.   I would like to share with you now actual emails that I sent to a former boss of mine, that were intentionally designed to get a laugh as well as submilimany ask for things in the “Shelby” way.  I also want to thank both fans and secret haters for your support.  I am humbled that this pet project has become as popular as it has, and I hope to continue providing you with entertaining stories and experiences:

From: Shelby
Sent: Monday, December 19, 2011 11:48 AM
To: My Boss
Subject: Mike's Replacement

In light of the recent events (Mike’s Departure), I would like to submit a list of requests in the search for Mike’s replacement.  These qualities should be considered during the interview process, in order to 1. Help the transition period with the team and 2. To help me in search efforts of finding a husband.

1.       Must have a college degree.  Little to no student debt is preferred, however depending on how much debt we are talking is negotiable based on other items listed. 

2.       Must have a car (bus pass, bicycle, or walking is NOT ACCEPTABLE)  Prius cars are not acceptable either.  I do not get along well with “environmentally friendly people”

3.       Between the ages of 26-35.  I’m willing to go as low as 25 as long as they do not look like a man child, or 36 as long as they don’t look like a prison inmate.

4.       Single white male of Italian or Greek decent preferred but I am open to English, Irish, Hungarian, Viking, and German descendants as well.

5.       No children (preferred) and or crazy ex-girlfriends.  Dogs are ok, Cats are not. Cats are evil and the spawn of Satan.   

6.       Not emotionally retarded (I do not want to sit and listen to any sob stories at work about how they are incapable of feelings based on past experiences)

7.       Someone with “loose” morals. (and by loose I mean is NOT a “honk if you love Jesus – Tim Tebow bible hugger”)

8.       Have not been previously married and or has just recently gotten out of a relationship with in the last 6 months. (Please refer to #6 if you need clarity)

9.       Someone in shape, but does not look as if they spend hours at the gym.  (There is a reason why I have not watched an episode of Jersey Shore in my life, I enjoy a good six pack now and then, but not in the form of abs)

1.   Someone with good work ethic, but also has a social life.  (Not accepted: Guy who clings to the unrealistic idea that he is still a college frat boy and thinks he can drink like one, men suffering from “Peter Pan syndrome” (not wanting to grow up), and my personal favorite: has a bro-mance with his best male friend that is borderline homosexual.

 Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to voice requests for Mike’s replacement.  I hope that you will take some of these qualities in to consideration when making a decision.  I am sure interoffice romance is frowned upon, however, I am 29 years old and single.  I am fearful that I have about 5 years of good looks left and would like to snag someone now, before things start going in to disarray.    I look forward to working with our new teammate in the near future!

 Shelby

From: Shelby
Sent: Tuesday, January 17, 2012 2:10 PM
To: My Boss
Subject: Printer in *** Building

 Dear Boss:

                I hope that when disposable income is available, you will consider allowing the purchase of a new printer in the *** building.  The printer, which I refer to as “Stubborn Sally”, is the equivalent of child in its terrible 2’s. 

“Sally’s” issues

1.       Sally cannot count.  When you tell her to print a specific amount of copies, she will either give you more or less than the requested amount.

2.       Sally does not like cardstock.  When I attempt to feed her cardstock, she makes up an imaginary paper jam most of the time, which results in both of us throwing a temper tantrum.  Other times she gets pissed off at me and does jam when I’m feeding her cardstock, causing me to waste paper and time yelling at her for not eating her cardstock properly.

3.       Sally claims that her fuser needs replaced, however Jessica and I have replaced her fuser 2 times (within a year and via *** in corporate), and she just doesn’t want to accept the fact that we got rid of her old fuser and replaced it with a new one.. what a stubborn girl.

4.       Sally likes to waste ink.  Being she is the only child from China that came with an instruction manual, she is not living up to her potential.  She gets ink everywhere, as well as likes to “paint” blobs of ink on some printing jobs. 

5.       Sally does not like to center things.  She stubbornly likes to print things crooked when using the self-feeding tray.  I feel as if the macaroni crafts she will make in kindergarten may reflect that of a serial killer. 

6.       Sally has an addiction with recalibrating.  She loves it so much, sometimes she recalibrates after printing 3 pages.  I worry if recalibrating is a gateway drug that will lead to harder drugs and mental issues later on in life?  i.e Toner Sniffing, Ink Herion or potentially paper cutting herself to death. 

7.       Sally may have a fever.  Every time we replace her fuser, she overheats.  I am convinced she has a few wires loose, however being a hypochondriac does not sit well in this office.

8.       Sally may have hostile tendencies.  Sometimes when she prints, she likes to draw lines in the print job, almost as if she has some sort of resentment for the world from a past life. 

With the list provided above, I hope that you will consider sending Sally back to her homeland of China where she can be taken care of properly and replace her with a more reliable, mature and less stubborn model. 

 Thanks,
Shelby

From: Shelby
Sent: Thursday, January 19, 2012 2:28 PM
To: My Boss
Subject: Obituary for Stubborn Sally's Tray 1


I am sad to announce that today at approx. 1:45 this afternoon, Stubborn Sally's tray #1 ascended into the mechanical heavens joining some of its predecessors such as the CD Player, Walkman, and A-Track player.


I was on site during the passing. It was quite sad. Tray #1 suffered a breakage of a plastic piece that allows the paper to feed in to Sally's Belly. Attempts at a rescue failed, due to a series of unfortunate events.

1. Super Glue was unable to be opened due to the stubbornness of it
adheasiving the cap to itself. Dr. Kate and Dr. Shelby attempted to revive the super glue using pliers, however with time running out we decided to make the executive decision to poke a hole in it.

2. Dr. Shelby then proceeded to try to save Tray #1, by using the rouge super glue to attach the two parts back together. Not only was this unsuccessful, but Dr. Shelby almost not only super glued her fingers together, but also almost glued herself to the tray.

3. Dr. Kate then proceeded to use the Hair Dryer to hope that the
adhesive would bond. While Tray #1 was flat lining at this time, we said a small prayer and before long, there was a pulse. Unfortunately this was short lived. Upon returning Tray #1 back to Sally from the make shift hospital "aka the Barstool in our meeting area" that had housed it, it broke again.


Tray #1 was a the most popular tray of Sally's entourage. It was our go-to tray for any and all needs. It is fortunate that it died however, because now all of our companies printing secrets have died with it.

For the time being, I have promoted Tray #2 to be the replacement until we give ourselves time to mourn the loss of our good friend. Please alert your computers to use Tray #2 as a default. If they question what happened to their pal Tray #1, just tell them he was overworked and cracked under the pressure.


In Lieu of flowers, a memorial fund has been set up in Tray #1's honor. Checks can be made payable to **** Accounts Payable.

In Tray #1's last will and testament *** and Tray #1 agreed that if
anything were to happen, **** would agree to give the open position to Tray #1's first born son. According to the research and Facebook Stalking I have done, Tray #1's wife (Margaret), is 8 months pregnant. Since the child labor laws are different for machinery, we have an executive right to the child upon birth.

RIP Tray #1

From: Shelby
Sent: Monday, June 18, 2012 10:04 AM
To: My Boss
Subject: Computer Issues

Boss-

I think my computer, similar to myself, has gone in to permanent sleep mode.  At one time, also similar to myself, my computer was a self starter, meaning that it would just automatically start working by button pushing and empty threats.  Now my threats are not working....

Currently when I attempt to push Archie's buttons (his power button to be exact), and like any stubborn child of his age (I'm assuming by his looks, condition and his younger Dell siblings, he is probably about 5 years old) he does not cooperate and listen to me.  Rather than showing me a green light indicating that its "all good" followed by the reassuring sounds of his internal parts (a fan and sometimes a weird clicking noise), I now receive a blinking orange light.  With each moment that I watch this orange light blink back at me, I can only imagine Archie try to communicate to me saying "Caution, Caution, Caution,"  however due to the comatose state that he is in, he cannot indicate to me what's wrong.  So as I sit in my office in total silence, receiving no vital signs from Archie, I attempted to perform the following tasks with the hopes of bringing him back from the dead, which all have failed.

1. After consulting with the All Might Monitor God (Lets call her Carrie) , I was instructed that there was no signal coming from Archie.  She instructed me to press any key on the keyboard or mouse to wake him up or to press an imput button.  As I pressed numerous keys on the keyboard in an attempt to wake up my sleeping beauty, nothing happened.  Being slightly short tempered, and it being 7:30 am on a Monday Morning, my anger got the best of me and I proceeded to throw my own temper tantrum by not only using my hands to bang on the keyboard desperately thinking that this time Archie would hear me in his sleep, but also the usage of my forehead on the keyboard was used at the end to prove that I had given up. 

2.  After taking a break and calming myself down, I marched back in to my office with a calm demeanor, and decided rather than taking a boxer approach to fixing this, lets take an electricians approach.  It was at this point I realized 2 things, 1. my floor is absolutely disgusting and I need to clean it, and 2. there are alot of wires that mean nothing to me.  The simplest solution for me was to unplug each wire, one at a time, hoping that by doing this, it would revive Archie and breathe new life in to him.  As I engaged in this second failed attempted at waking up Archie, I did however manage to turn lemons in to lemonade by cleaning up my floor, and making it a more socially acceptable space for the fruit flies that have now invaded my office. 


I am not sure what to do from here.  I do happen to have Archie's stepsister "Anna" with me at all times, so I do have at least 1 computer, however, I am worried that if I arrange Archie to be life flighted to our institution in **, that he may end up where Sally (his printer cousin) did, only as a permanent fixture on the *** "rack of technology shame.   I will contact Dr. ***  and get a second opinion before I go "Office Space" on him and throw him from the first 3rd story window I can find.    I just wanted to make sure that you will be OK funding Archies trip to ** to get emergency surgery first.

Please let me know

Thanks

Shelby

From: Shelby 

Sent: Thursday, August 02, 2012 11:49 AM

To: My Boss

Subject: Alert - Please advise

I would like to inform the team of an incident that has been committed in the *** building. The incident occurred at approximately 10:15 while all upper level management was in attendance of a meeting.



A rouge steamer in the *** building attacked one of our own, causing them a severe panic attack and resulted a trip to the hospital.  The rogue steamer, which was rumored to be a disgruntled employee due to hearing a rumor that it was going to get bumped from a P2 to a P1 position at the bid session tomorrow, decided to attack the unnamed individual by spraying steam in to their face, which resulted in campus police and paramedics to be rushed to the scene.



Where the employee is set to be ok, police interrogated the steamer, to which they found no sufficient evidence to place any charges at this time for any wrong doing.

In light of this incident, I would like to share with you all tips on to prepare yourself in case a situation like this arises.

1. Treat all equipment with respect and love. As I have learned in the past with the "**** Technology Wall of Shame" be sure to treat your equipment the same way you would a small child or an elderly adult. Where people have expiration dates, equipment have things called "expired warranties", which make their funerals more expensive when you need to replace them, and I also hear that their union is the worst to work with, due to being on hold for long periods of time, as well as being unable to understand the dialect of your union rep assigned to your location, which can make the conversations a bit foggy.

2. Assure the equipment they will be ok. We all get overworked sometimes, which causes a cloud of mist to surround us. Teamwork and building long lasting bonds between employee and equipment is crucial in order to maintain a healthy working environment.



3. Assure the equipment that you are there for it, and lend a supportive ear to its needs and wants. If it makes unfamiliar noises, starts peeing on the floor like a small puppy, or just loses its will to go on, be sure to contact the psychiatry department (via ***) ASAP to request an evaluation session, which you will be assured an appointment with in any 6 month time frame.

I hope that by sharing my life experiences with you, it will provide you with a road map to success, allowing you to vaporize any issues that you may have.

Thanks

Shelby

Keeping it real and thank you for 10k hits J

Lock and Key

Lock and Key

                One year ago, if you would of saw me, I had it all.  I was in the process of falling head over heels in love with a guy, I had more friends than I could keep up with, I had the world's easiest job and it was like in some weird way, all the stars had aligned and I felt like I was finally going to get the happy ending I had always dreamed of.

                Fast forward a little over a year later and you would of found me at rock bottom. It's amazing how much difference a year makes.  About 9 months ago, I had begun  to intentionally sabotage my relationships with people that I had known for over 10+ years, because for a period of time, I was literally out of my fucking mind.  During this time, I was miserable and depressed with my life.  30 hit me hard.   My relationship wasn't progressing in the manner that I wanted it to, I was suffering from terrible withdrawal symptoms due to quitting smoking, and I was absolutely miserable at work, sending out 10+ applications a day, to get next to no interviews.   Being around happy people who were getting the most out of their lives, only sent me in to a deeper spiraling depression.  Then 3 months ago, I found myself going through literally the most painful and heartbreaking breakup of my life.  Throw in the fact that I had isolated and pissed off everyone in my comfort zone, I was left picking up the shattered pieces of my heart off the floor, feeling as if I had no one to talk to.  I had reached out to a couple of people from my "past life", and acquaintances that I had met throughout the years, but I still felt alone, abandoned and just downright shitty. 

                Being that I literally spent a majority of the summer moping, crying, and pretty much telling my story to any random stranger that would listen to me.  Now that it is September, I am pretty pissed that I spent the entire summer as an emotional train wreck  rather than actually enjoying it.  It's ok though,  3 months after rock bottom hit, the panic attacks have subsided and with each passing day my heart heals a very little bit, while still being haunted by the ghost of the memories past.  I don't think I would be anywhere near where I am right now if it wasn't for Chuck.  He has been my rock through all of this, and has proven to me that there are good people in this world, especially during a period of time when all I saw was evil. 

                With that being said, once I started to get out of my funk, I began to start dragging myself out of the house, just to be a bit more social.  It had gotten to the point where I had looked forward to going to work, just so that I could be around people.  Chuck played babysitter to me while I got my drinking legs back, and also began entertaining my social calendar.  It's funny, when you are in a relationship, all you see around you is singles; but when you are single all you see are happy fucking ladedah couples skipping, jumping, holding hands and dry humping in public...which is not a good atmosphere to be in when you  are in recovery mode.  I literally gave up Facebook for 2 months, because I had to watch people on my friends list post about getting everything that they their little heart's content while I woke up every day to life giving me the middle finger, and I got sick of it.

                It is very true when you aren't looking how things find you.  Literally, once I snapped out of my funk, and regained most of my self confidence back, it was like the world took notice.  Random guys began hitting on me, smiling, flirting, asking me out on dates, and for the first time in my life, all I wanted to do was be left the fuck alone.  Any guy that approached me, I would lay it out on the line for them: "I do not want to date at the present time.  All I can offer you is friendship."  To which 95% of them would tell me they are ok with it but literally within a week would make some sort of uncomfortable comment about dating to me that left me and Chuck both smacking our foreheads in disappointment.  For the record,  I want more than anything to be ready again to even just be attracted to someone that is not of celebrity status, unfortunately, when you put all your eggs in the "love basket" and they end up blowing up like atomic bombs right in your face, recovering takes time and its taking more time that what I like.  I'm not in any rush whatsoever to get married or have children, and I'm really even questioning if I am someone that is destined for love, marriage and happily ever after.  I feel like a lesbian that is not in to women, and the thought of men absolutely repels me.  For those of you avid readers, I'm sure you find this admission shocking.  You probably would of never thought that I would bare my soul and even mention that I am actually quite human perhaps?  Well I am.   I was a girl that fell deeply in love with a boy, causing all of my logic and level headedness to go out the window.  In the end we had become two totally different people that couldn't make it work.  My trials and tribulations continue and hopefully when the scars heal, I will bounce back as Shelby 2.0, and even better and feistier version. 

                So with that being said, life has been very mellow.  I refuse to turn to online dating when I am ready to put myself out there again, which makes it tough to blog because that was my niche.  That was until I was handed an opportunity that I couldn't refuse...

                My Saturday started like any normal single person's day would, minus the hangover.  I had gone out a little bit the night before, but didn't really overexert myself.  I had dedicated the day to myself, doing adult things.  Apparently though, when you tell people that you are doing adult things all day, they begin to question your motives.  Where in my mind "adult things" are  laundry, shopping, cleaning;  apparently in the minds of those that I communicated with they thought I meant gang bangs and anal beads. 

                I had every intentions of staying in, relaxing and just enjoying "me" time.  Chuck and his friend Mike had registered for a "Lock and Key" singles event at Bossa Nova, to which I wanted him to give me a full report.  I think Chuck was more excited about the fact that there would be door prizes at this event, rather than the potential to meet anyone.  The age range was pretty wide (25-50) so that made for a great story right there.  As fate would have it, one series of events lead to another and I ended up downtown right around the time that the event started.  I had no intentions of going to this event, and I was very unprepared anyways.  I had not showered that day, even after completing week 3 of the Insanity work out.  I was wearing a black wife beater with a hot pink bra that is about 2 sizes 2 small, yoga pants, and white tennis shoes.  My hair was in a pony tail, and the remnants of my make up from the night before still lingered on my face.  Fortunately before I left the house, I did manage to put on deodorant which I considered to be a win.  I literally was rocking my "I do not give a ratsass what I look like" vibe, considering I had planned on doing what I needed to do downtown and go straight home.  Then a part of the old me surfaced randomly and I began to think, "How funny would it be if I went to this event, looking like this, better yet, I'm not even going to tell Chuck I'm showing up and just arrive."  It's a Saturday night, I have no real plans and I'm feeling like my old self again...I'm going for it; and just like that I was off to my first Lock and Key event.

                I should of known that the $32 assraping I had to pay to even get in the door was a sign of things to come.  Unbeknownst to me, my first What the Fuck moment happened, literally as I walked through the door. 

                2 weeks prior to this event, apparently a memo must of went out, and people my past decided it was "Let's drunk dial Shelby" week.    The night of the VMA's, as I'm writing the last blog, my phone rings at 11:30pm.  I don't recognize the number, so obviously I do not answer.  No Voicemail.   2 minutes later, it rings again, I don't answer.  No Voicemail.  5 minutes after that; the same number, so I answer.  "Hi Shelby, I'm not sure if you remember me, but we met last April during speed dating."   WTF?!  I pretend that I didn't remember him hoping that the conversation would be short sweet and to the point.  This part of the story was omitted from the Speed dating blog, because this revelation came after I had written it.  Apparently, Chuck let me roam free after speed dating at Bossa Nova drunk and unattended last April, and I gave one of the guys my #.  When he text me the next day, I had no recollection of doing this, only that I knew I was not interested in anyone romantically from that event.  I do remember, after roughly 5 text messages back and forth,  there was just something off about him, and I just stopped responding to texts.  I even want to say he called me a couple of times to which I bluntly ignored the calls.  The drunk dialer proceeds to go on a tangent about how he has hit a rough patch in his life, and how I left an impression on him, how he needs to live in the moment and his life has been one missed opportunity after another,  eventually leading to asking me out because he "felt that he blew ME off and didn't think it was fair and wanted to give me a chance."  Rather than pointing out that it was in fact me who ignored him last April, never in my life have I been more happier to not have to pull a ridiculous lie out of my ass and tell the truth.  I proceeded to give the "Just got out of a relationship" excuse to which he got very angry about his timing of calling me.  He was so angry to the fact that I was not willing to date him, that he wanted me to tell him EVERYTHING about the demise of my relationship from start to finish.    Being that I had finally started accepting it was over, I really did not want to reopen the wounds and I told him I didn't really feel like talking about it.  He relentless bugged me, and where my head was telling me, "Just hang up, Shelby" I felt bad for him.  I know what it's like to hit rock bottom and feel as if the walls are closing in on you, so I gave him a the benefit of the doubt and a quick summary.  

                "Well it sounds to me like he really didn't ever love you." He said.  I thought  "Wow - thanks man, that's what I really wanted to hear, especially coming from someone who seems more emotionally damaged than Amanda Bynes".   He then proceeded to say,  "I am learning a lot about you, here I thought that you were a strong, independent woman would wouldn't take shit from anyone."  Ummm, ok?  Sorry for being human I guess?  Do you also think that girls don't fart, Santa still exists and if you say Candy man 10 times in front of a mirror, you will have a supernatural experience?  He goes on,   "I remember the only thing I didn't like about you was that you smoked like a chimney."  This conversation is making me consider smoking like a chimney again but only if it will make you leave me alone.  "Why do girls like you always let guys like that break your heart?"  Why is the sky blue?  Why do frogs "ribbit" and not go boooiinng?  I don't have the answer for you buddy, but what girl wouldn't want to date a guy with a sparkling personality and uncanny ability to not come off sounding like a total asshole such as yourself?  It was at this point that I couldn't contain myself and had to end this conversation.  This guy was a bigger train wreck than me, and there is only room for one of those in my world.  I literally had to say "I'm going to bed now" 5 times before he stopped talking about himself to listen to me say that I am getting off the phone. 

                So with that 2 weeks ago, guess who is standing in the doorway at Bossa Nova when I arrive?  Shit.  As I walked up to the counter to register, I instantly gave a fake name.  Tonight I will be Sandy...and Sandy has never met this room full of people  and will not drink and or draw attention to herself, she will just observe and report.  I'm practically dressed like a ninja with the exception of my white shoes, I will just blend.

                The concept of the event is actually pretty cool.  Girls get a lock, guys get a key.  It is then up to you to go around the room talking to people with the hopes that their key will unlock you.  When you unlock, you either 1. remain in conversation and find your soul mate, or 2. walk to the registration table and get a raffle ticket and a new lock.  After the rules were explained to me,  I turned around and  saw Chuck standing there.  I had been spotted...The look on his face was priceless and  worth the $32 expense.  It was a mix of, "I can't believe you showed up looking like this" and "I'm glad you came."

                And so begins the event.  Not even taking the event, or myself serious, I walk up to a couple of 40 something males and say, "Would you like to stick your key in my slot?" and  literally, the first key that went in opened my lock.  As I made my way to the registration table, Mr. Speeddate was standing at the door, meaning I literally had to walk right past him to get my raffle ticket and a new lock.  Ok Sandy you can do this...I literally walked sideways, avoiding him at all costs to get to the table to get my stupid raffle ticket.  Crisis averted and like I felt like I had just powered up my character on a video game and received 1 ninja skill point.

                I was doing great, I wasn't drinking so I wasn't drawing attention to myself, the energy in the room was high and Mr. SpeedDate was on the total opposite end of the room.  So far within the first 10 minutes mission accomplished.  12 minutes in I managed to ruin that. 

                Bossa Nova is a great location, its upscale, trendy and it drives a lot of the business professional- older crowd, however where they make up for the experience, they lack in Feng Shui.  I'm not sure how high the interior decorator was when he went shopping for this establishment, however I would love to get a dime bag of whatever it was he was smoking.  Whatever fucking moron decided to put clear glass knee level tables in a poorly lit bar should be arrested for treason.  While trying to maneuver through the crowd, I managed to knock my right knee on the corner of the glass table, causing me to let out a cry of total pain, followed by an angry scream of "FUCK"....That is when the crickets started chirping and my life turned in to a Tupac song with All Eyes on Me...   Ninja skill point removed.

                As my knee is throbbing and I'm starting to calculate how much a knee replacement surgery is going to cost and at what age it is going to be the most beneficial.. I'm talking to Chuck and Mike, and  out of nowhere,  I get ninjaed by a pudgy Asian guy.  Yes, I am profiling and it sounds horrible,  but it is true.  He literally just came out of nowhere like a random UFO sighting.    It took him 2 minutes to introduce himself because he had a horrible stutter.  We will just call him F-F-Francis for the sake of time.  After his introduction, and the realization that his key did not fit my lock, he said to me, "I don't really think not being able to undo a lock can dictate fate, what do you think?"  To my Beaver County readers, if you heard a strange noise last night around 8:30 pm, it was in fact my eye roll that you heard all the way from downtown Pittsburgh.    I'm still not 100% on my game, and honestly, the old me would of just ran with it, telling ridiculous lies and made up experiences, however I felt kinda bad for him...He had came to this event alone and I think he may have had a bit of social anxiety  that prevented him from really knowing how to be comfortable talking to a woman.  My theory was proven when he began asking me super deep questions about life and love and I got the impression that he had intended on chatting me up all night, so I politely told him to go socialize and to stop back later, hoping he would meet someone else that could appreciate his ninja like ways.

                  Within the first 30 minutes, I had 5 of my locks unlocked, all while still dodging Mr. Speed Date.  I was feeling pretty good.  Even looking like total shit, people were very nice and receptive toward me.   Of course the only ones that I found myself being  slightly attracted  to were there one that snubbed me, but I was having fun and really cared less.

                I was mid conversation with the cutest old man ever (he had to be at least 65+) when I got ninjaed again!  Literally not there one minute, there the next.  Again he wanted to start a deep conversation to which I politely just said I had to poop and walked away.  Ninja skill is now at negative 1.  When I came back from the bathroom, not only had F-F-Francis disappeared from the entire event, but  I noticed a decent looking guy standing by himself in the corner.  I decided to sashay his way rather than ninja roll because my skills were clearly in the red.  His name was extremely unique which I liked, but I couldn't pronounce it for the life of me, so I just called him Iliad.  Iliad had such pretty eyes but the personality of a pet rock.  Talking to him was as painful as what I imagine a colonoscopy would be to a heterosexual male.  Such a waste of something so pretty to look at. 

                As my made my way around the room again, dodging Mr. Speeddate, I had a couple of close calls that resulted in me ducking, bobbing, weaving, and making sudden movements that were similar to that of someone with turrets syndrome.  Character Ninja skills level up!   When attendees would witness this they would say "Sandy, whats wrong?" Half the time I ignored them because I forgot I was using a fake name, so I would literally stand there looking like a spaced out asshole,   the other time I would make up an environmental issue like: I had to tie my shoe, or I had a leg cramp."

                After being mentally exhausted with my mind in the gutter most of the time due to comments that people didn't even realize they were saying like, "My key is stuck in your lock." "My key won't fit in your lock." and  "You broke it" I had found Mike and Chuck talking to 2 women, who looked to be around our age.  I walked over to them and we instantly clicked.  It was like our mini group had been complete.  We began sharing horror stories of the evening, and were in hysterics.  Meeting them, justified my $32 admission fee. 

                It was door prize time, I saw Iliad looking lost again, so I called him over to see if he wanted to hang out with us.  Again we began chatting in forced conversation, that was very dry and boring, leading to nowhere.  I used my infamous line about online dating and "What am I going to tell my grandchildren?  It was love at first type?" which didn't even get a chuckle.  This bothered me and I felt defeated.  Then out of left field, he mentioned how we should hang out sometime.  I grabbed Chuck to be a witness, and told him that I was not looking to date, just hang out, do stuff, be friends etc and I looked at him and said, "Are you OK with this?"  to which he replied, "Yes that's cool".  I turned my back to him to check my raffle ticket, turned back and he had already moved on to the girl sitting down behind us.  I had officially went from the underachieving girl that doesn't give a shit to instant penis repellent now experiencing a Greek Tragedy in progress. I guess he wasn't ok with it after all, considering he ended up leaving with her.  It's amazing how the demeanor of men change once they realize you are not offering up your vagina on a silver plate.   I told Chuck and Mike it was ok, because his breath smelled like actual shit, then realized that I was being very hypocritical because after thinking about it, I remembered that in addition to the fact that I was un-showered, smelly, and in no means trying to impress anyone,  I hadn't brushed my teeth all day...

Keeping it Real

Shelby  

VMAs - I Had To...

                I remember 15 years ago, asking, well begging my mom if I could stay up past my bed time to watch the most epic show of the year, the VMA's.  Even when she would tell me no, I would still stay up anyways, because not only was it a big deal to me from a singing stand point, but it was also during a time where a music video was actually part of regular programming.  There was no Jersey shore bullshit, or hard core reality TV clogging the airwaves of MTV, it was Live at 5 with Carson Daily, and the Real World/Road Rules and of course Beavis and Butthead. 

                  Back then, it was an awards show, but there was validity behind it.  The awards were for videos that were actually played on MTV, that I had seen, not videos that I had to go searching Youtube for to see if they even existed.  I really feel very sorry for generation Z and older, because when it comes to music, it can turn in to a heated argument with me, but at least I will have the ability to tell future generations that I grew up in a time that when an artist collabrated on a song with another artist, they actually sung lyrics and was a part of the song, and how we can thank Britney Spears and Will.I.am for screwing the pooch on that era.

                When I heard that Nsync would be on stage, together, live for the first time in years performing on the VMA's the 17 year old in me screamed like a little bitch.  Nsync and I shared many memories.  Back in the days of late High School/Early College when I didn't have many bills to pay, or a real job that required me to be responsible, it was just friends, clubbin, boys and not a care in the world.  Justin Timberlake's curly hair set the basis for what I thought my future husband should look like, his dance moves were the basis of what I would think about when I would buzz away, and his voice was that of an angel that got me through many heartbreaks and rough times.  Part of me cried when Britney and him broke up, the other half of me dreamed of our wedding, future and what our curly hair kids would be named.  If it was a girl, it was going to be Ariel of course, if it was a boy, it would be Justin Jr.  I instantly became a non fan of Jessica Biel when they began dating, only to ride the emotional roller coaster of their foreverly long seeming courtship of breaking up and getting back together, so me, instinctively hating her, then liking her again, over and over again, only to eventually ultimately hate her for being able to finally get the wedding I had already had planned for years with him. 

                With all of the history that him and I have together in my own head, I felt it necessary that I do in fact watch simply to support him, because I don't care if I'm wife #2 or #20,   this is one dream that I will not give up on. 

                And now we begin...

                Opening up with Lady Gaga seemed reasonable, I mean I expect nothing less than abnormal, weird, and some sort of artistic expression that I don't get or understand with her.  I saw her in concert a couple of years ago at the Consol, and Gaga is phenomenal live.  I don't really get the whole meat suit, arriving in an egg, lots of feathers and glitter thing, but whatever, she has a great voice; so when she opened her act with a huge box on her head, it was really no surprise whatsoever.  Instinctively my mind went to puns like "Oh Gaga your such a block head" or "Oh are you quitting singing to become a boxer" things that like just to get me through the performance.  As always half naked with a banging body, Gaga put on a great show.  I'm not really sold on the new song just yet, however, I guess one thing that I wasn't prepared for was that  that Lady Gaga's opening performance was more normal of a performance than what I was about to witness next....Starting a show with Gaga, I should of thought it would just set the tone for weird all together.

                The next thing I witness literally left me dumbfounded.  First I see life size teddy bears, which is pretty exciting, I mean who doesn't think life sized teddy bears are cool?  Hell even the move "Ted" made mid sized teddy bears cool again...But then out of nowhere pops Miley Cyrus  walking out of this staged entrance like a cat.  Ok now I'm confused, you have bears on your body suit, but you are walking like a cat...are you a culturally confused animal?  I know there is such thing as "Manbearpig" thanks to South Park, but BearCat?  Not really sure.  Are you tripping your non-existent balls off?  Because I feel like the lights are on but no one is home, or your stylist absolutely hates you.  You bitch and moan about how you don't want to be recognized as "Hanna Montana" but yet you run around with teddy bears on your mosquito bites and a see through bodysuit looking like a stick figure version of that weird chick in high school that you knew did a lot of drugs but you just let her go because she looked happy in "her world." Even so, I don't remember that weird chick in high school getting so messed up that she felt the need to hump air as much as you did this evening Ms. Cyrus.  Never in my life have I ever just wanted to have Carrot Top run on stage with one of his "novelty" comedic items such as a stripper pole, and plop it down right in front of you so that rather than looking like you are a drunk version of Quagmire from Family Guy, your stage presence and gyrating motion would actually have a purpose. 

                Just when I thought it couldn't get any weirder, next walks out Robin Thicke, who I have always thought of as Jason Seaver from growing pains , "laid back, let's make easy listening tolerable again artist" son to Oh shit, who is the dumbass in the crowd that said his name 3 times....Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice.  I'm sure Michael Keaton would be proud and all, but now there is way to much messed up shit going on...I've got Miley on the left still dry humping air, but now in an even skankier outfit, with a huge foam finger? and I've got Robin Thicke trying to seduce me with his music, but all I keep thinking about is his head shrinking at an after party later when he pisses off some half naked shaman. 

                I felt as if at this point that I was just being too critical and that maybe I had become some sort of snob at my age?   I mean I am 30, only watching an awards show to watch a band that half the people currently watching were probably like 5 when they were huge and don't appreciate what it means to be witnessing it.  After reading my Facebook newsfeed, I'm so glad to discover that I am not the only one that thought that entire performance was just ruined by Miley's total weirdness.  What happened to the girl that sang the fan favorite "Party in the USA?"  I'm starting to think that she found a great party somewhere in the USA, with the best drugs in the USA, and clearly no mirrors either.  I'm a firm believer that you should be someone that your parents would be proud of, leaving me on question: Has Miley finally broken Billy Ray's achy breaky heart?  I just don't think she understands....Please find yourself soon Miley, and by that I mean a mirror, a wig, and an identity that doesn't resemble that of a girl that's stage name is "Candi" with an "I"

                The fact that they use Kevin Hart as a filler between sets is cool.  I have always been a fan of his bluntness, and willingness to call people out.  You could tell that he was really reaching for jokes tonight.  I think he forgot that Selena Gomez is now old enough to drink, as is Taylor Swift, so I'm sure that him pretty much calling them "children" on the VMA's will cause Taylor to write 6 more albums because yet again, a boy was mean to her.  It had to be awkward for Selena to go up on stage with One Direction, considering  her best friend wrote like 7 songs about one of the band members and made fun of him at like 2 award shows ago.  Whats that expression don't shit where you eat? 

                Jared Leto, my goodness.  You are so insanely hot, yet you felt the need to dress up like an underachieving Jedi tonight...Why?!  Are you intentionally giving a subliminal message to George Lucas that you want to give up your singing career and be cast in the new "Star Wars?"  Where you could totally pull off being Hans Solo's son, which I'm totally all for, there is really no need to give us a preview at the VMAs.  If you really wanted to fit in, go sit next to those people that are wearing helmets in  Pharells entourage, at least that way you can begin to assemble your army to take down what I'm sure will be some sort of enemy that survived the Death Star explosion.

                Kayne, oh man, what has parent hood done to you.   Yes you get to bone and procreate with a woman who half the population loves and the rest love to hate, and your child is already going to be ridiculed because of the dumbest name that you gave it, however what I don't understand is when your career went from being a bad ass rapper who was a total douche, to a poppy rapper who doesn't even rap anymore but uses a synthesizer and literally just jumps up and down in the dark...The entire time all I could think was...Ok if a tree falls in the woods, does Kayne loose his power source to make his voice sound like George Clinton?  And if he did, would anyone care that did start as a rapper, and not just 1/2 of Kimyae?

                 I mean come on, did all these performers secretly make a bet with one another to see who could be the most talked about this evening?  You always expect something different with the VMA's, I mean I remember when Britney/Christina and Madonna Kissed, which back then was epic, but have I become lame at 30?  Because if this is a taste of what the future of music is, I'm seriously worried.  It's really bad when a condom commercial is more entertainment than the actual show. 

                I can't believe Mackelmore beat out the entire Hip Hop Squad of seasoned rappers and 1 newbie.  When they panned on Drake, I had a moment where I feel like I stepped in to his head, and could hear him planning on how he was going to intentionally start a new war with him.  For being new to the scene, Macklemore was a bit preachy.  It's ok to be proud, I mean he won his first award, but when he started trying to preach about equality and all that bs, you could literally feel, all the way from New York, every hard core rapper in the room roll either eyes at this guy, and also plan their takedowns.  I give the guy credit and all, but I see trouble, not only with his hairstyle, but also with street cred.

               

                Finally, the Justin Medley is upon us...In the first 5 minutes I was able to revisit the late days of High School, followed by college days, "Rock Your Body" was like me and my friend Jay's summer college anthem, followed by all of the greats.  Even 15 years later, JT still has the moves of someone you just want to go all "Miley Cyrus Air Hump"  (<----- IF THIS CATCHES, I GET CREDIT) on, except without clothes, and not even in a rhythmic manner, just literally hump his leg or any part of his body... and then the time comes and the whole gang is back together.  I've seen Backstreet Boys and New Kids in concert, and where I was more impressed with New Kids, boy does Nsync still go it.  I was slightly disappointed when they panned to One Direction and they didn't seemed enthused.   I caught myself screaming at the TV, "Don't be wankers, if it weren't for them, you wouldn't be One Direction, you'd be directing Traffic leading to a single direction, the Autobond, you selfish twitts." 

                As I sat in bed, dancing and reliving the good times, I could only imagine as to what my new neighbors next door thought.  As I was singing at the top of my lungs, pretty much jumping up and down on my bed like I had just hit the lottery and reliving the dance moves that I used to bust out at clubs like local Pittsburgh Gem: Club Zoo, Jetz and even Coconuts...Will I attend this concert if they come to Pittsburgh?  Absolfuckingloutley.  Will I pull a Miley Cyrus Air Hump, during the performance, you bet your ass I will... Can I go back in time and relive those years?  Unfortunately not... but I will tell you one thing, I cannot get the last 2.5 hours of my life back, which makes me a bit sad, however I do know that if Nsync can still rock it out, then there is still a small hope for the future of music....

Keeping it real..

Shelby

I will sell your unwanted items via Craigslist

               

                One day, I was pointed in the direction of this fashion app called Wanelo.  I know nothing about Pinterest, or how it works, or how I pin something,  but Wanelo, I guess is the fashion equivalent.  Trying to figure out these apps makes me feel old and out of touch with the trending "cool" phone things, so I more a less pretend I know what the hell I'm doing  and just run with it.  Anyway, since being introduced to Wanelo, a series of unfortunate events starting happening with my credit card and resulted in me signing up for both an Ebay and Paypal account.  When I discovered Ebay for the first time (yes I am a late bloomer, shut up)  it was like a holy experience for me.  Not only could I buy things for super cheap and potentially win an "auction", I could also purchase peoples unwanted shit.  The more I searched,  It was like I had stepped in to a massive online yard sale!  The first time I received a notification that I had "won" an auction, it was like a huge sense of accomplishment.  I thought to myself, "Fuck yea, I won something, all you other bidders can kiss my ass" only to discover that I was the lone bidder on the object in question.  Following my roller coaster of emotion from going from feeling like I had just won the lottery, to a day in the life of Lindsey Lohan, I had the genius idea that I was going to start my own online store to rid myself of my very own unwanted shit.  I had planned on calling my online store, "Shelby's Unwanted Shit" Store, but the name itself wasn't very sexy, and being too lazy to actually do all the work, I decided that rather than trying to go through all that time and effort, why not put my writing skills to use as a side job and see if I could sell people's unwanted shit via Craigslist. 

                I asked some of my single friends this question:  "Give me a list of items that you want to get rid of after your breakup" and  I will compile my very own craigslist "For Sale" ad for you.   

Here goes nothing:

Fire Sale - No Literally Everything Will Be Set on Fire if not sold..

                I currently am in possession of a variety of men's clothes.  I several shirts, sizes ranging from Medium to XL because the pretentious prick's weight was more of a roller coaster ride then my emotions when I'm PMSing.  Other than a few permanent sweat marks in the armpit area due to an his nationality, they are in decent condition.  If you are not in the market for shirts, they also make great dish towels, dust rags, and even high end reusable toilet paper.   There is a money back guarantee that your ass will not chafe while using them!  I also have pants in stock, however I am unsure of the size because again the pompous douchebag ripped all of the tags out with the hopes of them "still fitting" even on his "fat" days.  I will take measurements for anyone interested, however if you are not seeking pants to wear, may I suggest using them for seasonal usages such as making Scarecrows or Snowmen.   I am also in possession of several pairs of sneakers, which need to be gone ASAP because they metaphorically represent the part of our relationship where I was walked over, and I want them gone.  If you are not looking to wear them, they have a high entertainment value to them.  Why not take them and throw them over the electrical wires in your neighborhood, and watch your neighbors look at them in awe and ponder how they got up there and who's shoes they in fact are?  Or leave them on the side of East Carson street and watch people enviously think, "Wow, whose shoes are those, and I wish I partied as hard as they did."   If all of these items are not sold by 6pm tomorrow (Friday), then I will be having a bonfire party at my house.  Single men and women are welcome, pending they clear a background check.  All Items are $1 OBO

Let's Picture Happy Times

                For Sale: Several picture frames with pictures already in them.  You know when you get a picture frame from the store, and they have corny pictures of politically correct families smiling and laughing as if they are our era's version of the fucking Brady Bunch?  Yeah I hate that too...why not purchase picture frames that have pictures in them that reflect real people in a failed relationship?  I have pretty much every phase of my failed relationship from start to finish starting with:  "The Honeymoon Period" - all smiles and not a care in the world, "Token Kissing Picture - taken to make all my single friends jealous, and making all my married friends shut the fuck up, "We are a Couple, Now What?" - the smile starts getting more forced; I'm contemplating how fat I look while he is wondering what is for dinner, "We are Comfortable, the Excitement is Gone" - even faker smiles and clothing has gone from dress clothes to sweatpants and loungewear, "You Lied to Me and I caught  You" - there is no red eye correction, it is actual fire coming from my eyeballs, and if you look closely you may see a vein popping out of my neck, however he was smart enough to fess up in a public place causing me to not rip his head off, "I Hope You Get the Clap and Your Dick Falls off" - the final picture during the breakup (taken by a guest photographer..AKA one of my friends) after giving him another chance, only to find out that he was still sleeping with his ex.  Please note the excruciating look of pain on his face is real, considering he took a 5 inch heel to his balls and the expression of relief on my face is genuine and real.    Who needs a Facebook timeline, when you can have a framed timeline of my very own failed relationship for a small price!  If you buy now, I will throw in drinks at my favorite bar that has a dartboard.  We can remove the pictures one by one and bond over a game of darts. Hello new friend!

Have some fun, at my expense..please

                As I was doing my post breakup cleaning, it was brought to my attention that I have collected way to many sex toys during my last relationship.  I didn't realize how many I had actually collected, because while we were dating, I tried to justify the items he would pick up at the porn store as a sign of him being "adventurous" when my gut was telling me "this is weird, even for me."  So here I sit, with a box full of random sex toys thinking to myself, "You can't just throw these away...Would you throw away the last piece of cake all because it fell on the floor and got a little dirty?  Hell no, you pick that shit up, wipe it off and eat around the unsalvageable parts."    So with that in mind, I like to compare my sex toys to that of a used car, because in all reality, my relationship was literally a total wreck and I came to find out that my most recent ex is the equivalent of a lemon, so why not try to sell these items maintaining the theme of our relationship right?  All items are best offer

              

        Multiple Vibrators - Slightly used but in great condition.  All have had thorough detailing via multiple sanitizers.  One owner.  If you are looking  for ones that are similar to Hybrid models  (energy efficient  and get good  mileage) I have several that only require one AA battery.  If you are looking to splurge with more of a SUV model, I do have a few that take C batteries.  These are not as energy efficient, however the safety rating would make them "Soccer Mom" approved.   Now if you really want some power between your legs, I have one available that is the equivalent of a Harley.  It requires D batteries, the safety rating sucks, but you will in fact go on the best joyride of your life.

                Anal Beads - No if, ands or butts about it people, these are the legit 50 shades of Fucking Gray quality.  Again slightly used but in great condition and again have had a full detailing session via multiple sanitizers.  Very easy navigate in to tiny parking places.  No test drive available.  I will also throw in a bottle of lube to ensure a great, smooth shifting transmission.  Does not show any signs of collision damage.  Multiple owners, but the item that has been maintained as if it has only had one. Only comes in one color, Candy Apple Red.  If you don't buy these now, you will more than likely scream with regret later...then again if you buy them you will probably be doing the same thing regardless.  

Keeping it Real -

Shelby

21 vs 40 - The Male Perspective

Guest Blogger - Chuck

            Hi gang!  Well, you all know the drill.  Time to do a little guest writing for Shelby.  Last week she did a nice little comparison of her mindset at 21, and compared it to how she things now at 30.   That was chalk full of some pretty good laughs.  But, I'm sure not only did some of you laugh, but you also said "holy shit, I did the same damn things."   So, of course later on in the week, I got a text from Shelby looking for a guys eye view.  And this works out two because as some of you may know, I'm going to be.....oh god fuck.....40 next Friday on February 1st.  

           

            The last couple of months I keep thinking to myself, "how in the hell did I get here at this point in my life?  Am I really 40 years old?  I don't feel it at all."   That's kind of a lie.  Sometimes I do.  I've seen some posts this week on Facebook from friend that made me feel old.  One of my close friends growing up has a son graduating; and old co-worker has son who went to his first winter formal; one of my old Lead Petty Officers (ABH1) posted something about her having a grandson.  I about shit myself.  So, anyhow, I know people say age is just a number, and it truly is, but man how we used to think, and how we think now, are really truly different. (Unlike Jem, who is just simply truly outrageous.)

When I was 21:  Going out

            "I'm in the Navy.  I'm on an aircraft carrier.  Chicks f'ning LOVE guys in the Navy.  I mean come on Top Gun proved that right?  Maybe I'll find a Kelly McGillis here in the bay area.  That would rock.  Yeah,  I'm in the fucking Navy.  I'm probably gonna hook up.  This is awesome.   I'm going to wear my navy jacket too so they know I'm in the Navy.  If they ask, I'll tell them I'm a pilot.  That works right?  Wait, one of us have a car.  We have to ride the bus.  That's not going to work out at all.  None of thes girls will talk to us.  No dumbass we're not cops, we're in the Navy.  Great they are walking away?  What the hell, they're supposed to be all over us!  Oooohhhhh somebody lied to me...."

Now that I'm 40:  Going out

            "Why am I even going out?  Everyone else I know is at home.  Hell they are probably in bed.  But it's Friday, what else am I going to do?  I gotta meet somebody somehow.  Oh god why won't this girl just shut up! I have no idea what the hell she is talking about.  Oh god please be quiet.  Seriously, you just aren't making any sense.  I think I just got dumber  from listning.  I really gotta stop being the nice guy.  They all seem to want to tell me their life story.  Sweetheart, been there done that.  I'm 40 years old, and I really don't give a shit.  I'm watching the Pens."

When I was 21:  Pics

            "Damn, I look so much better than I did when I graduated.  Dropped some weight.  This pic looks great.  Love it.  Gotta do something about the hair though.  These military cuts suck.  Everyone knows we're in the Navy because of it.  Oh well, I still look great though. Feel good too.  Yeah,  i'm killer."

Now That I'm 40:  Pics

            "Holy shit does my playoff beard have a ton of grey in it.  Hell I think there is more grey in my beard than my dad has.  Son of a bitch.  I'm not supposed to look that old!  Well, at least the hair looks ok.  Keepin in short. Hides the grey.  Of course, I'm not so sure it will grow back anyway.  Oh well.  Smile for the group pic Chuck. Suck in the guy, and push your face forward. It will hide the double chin.  look down too, and maybe clench your neck muscles.  Oh great, looks like I'm taking a crap.  Can we get a do over on that shot? Sorry everyone."

When I was 21:  Clothing (this applies to when I was 25/26 as well, doing Karaoke at Fredericks in Moon.)

            "Dude we found the best clubbing shirts.  Yeah, this is something that says rock star.  Yeah, I'll wear this Friday night.  Mom why the hell are you lookin at me funny?  There is nothing wrong with this shirt.  Whatever, this shirt kicks ass.  It's the style."

Now that I'm 40:   Clothing

            "What in the hell was I thinking all those years ago.  I wasted so much money on the ugliest f'n shirts.  I'm so glad I do not have any of them anymore.  Wait, I like this one.  I think it looks good.  Better take a pic and text it to Bonnie, Carie, and Chrissy.  They'll set me straight.  Ok, apparently Bonnie does like button snaps.  Carie said to change my shirt, and to spray my crotch.  Not sure why.  Whatever.  Where the hell were they 15 years ago to help me dress?"

Wait, got one more.....

Shelby decied to give her thoughts on periods.  It's quite obvious that I can't have one of those, so, for the sake of humor.....

When I was 21:  Boners

"For the love of god what the hell?  It's like every time I look at a girl.  Damn calm down junior, she's gonna notice.  She may even point and laugh.  Oh pull the shirt down, hide the hard on.  Better just invest in large shirts because apparently this thing is on overdrive."

Now that I'm 40:  Boners

"Oh thank god the f'ing  thing still works!  Better pull the shirt down to hide it."

And there you have my two cents....later kids! Enjoy the good laugh.

Keeping it Real

-Chuck

21 vs 30...How the mindset changes

                One random Saturday Night, I was out with some friends keeping on the sober side of things (shocking I know), and I was in a very observant mood.  I hadn't been out in a while, so I was excited to witness people's behavior from a sober perspective.  I started thinking back to my early 20s (considering the bars I happened to be at were chalk full of 21-23 year olds)  and couldn't help but laugh at how differently you see things when you are older.  As I watched drunk guys with beer goggles attempt to get laid, and watched drunk insecure girls fall in love with these men, I couldn't help but channel my inner 21 year old and reflect back on some of the best years of my life, just to see how differently I think now vs. 9 years ago.  The results are somewhat funny.

When I was 21: Going Out

                "I am dressed practically naked and boy do I look good. Me and my friends are the hottest looking girls in this club and we are going to get tons of guys.  I'm going to get shitfaced, make out with my friends on the bar "coyote ugly" style and purposely try to get a guy hard while dancing with him so I can laugh about it with my friends."

Now that I am 30: Going Out

                "I am dressed like a nun compared to these 21 year old girls that are running around half naked, and they all seem to be size 0's and have bigger, perkier boobs than me due to age or surgery.  I don't want to drink a lot tonight because I have a lot of stuff to do tomorrow and I don't want to feel the shitty thanks to a hangover.  Oh look, those girls are making out with each other on the bar, I remember when that was cool, but that bar seems really high up and what if I were to fall off?  I may hurt myself really bad.  God I wish I was wearing yoga pants right now instead of this outfit."

When I was 21:  Clothing

                "I am going to find the smallest pant size possible and cram my ass in to them regardless of how tight they are because I am going to convince myself that I am in fact 2 sizes smaller than what I am.  It's ok if I can't breathe because at least my muffin top is covered by my super sexy shirt that is showing mad cleavage which will be a total distraction.  Later in the night, if I do end up ripping my pants, I'm just going to laugh it off and blame it on being drunk, rather than admitting that maybe they were a bit too tight in the first place.  I will never wear boy shorts or "granny panties" because they are lame, and thongs are a way of life.

  

Now that I am 30:  Clothing

                "I am going to buy these pants a size bigger for 2 reasons.  One so that if they are slightly baggy, it will appear as if I am skinner that what I am, and it will give the illusion that I recently lost weight.  Two so that I can walk around in comfort because now that my pants are looser,  I'm not picking my newly purchased boy shorts out of my ass.   If I've already got flip flops giving me a wedgie of the toe, why do I need to wear thongs to have a constant wedgie in my ass?  Thongs have become "special occasion only."  Also because I bought these pants a size too big,  if I do put on a couple of lbs, I don't have to go out and buy an entirely new wardrobe because these will be my warrior jeans."

When I was 21: Photographs

                "Wow I really need to lose weight, I look terrible!  What was I thinking wearing that outfit, it was so plain!  My hair looks pretty freaking cute though, I'm going to have to dye it that exact same color in the spring.  I'm super pale right now, I need to hit up a tanning booth or else I'm going to look like Casper this winter.  I can't believe how much fun I am, at this rate, I can get any guy I want!

Now that I'm 30: Photographs

                "Wow I can't believe I thought I was fat back then.  Look how wrinkle free my face was.  If I could pull that outfit off now, I would be a total slut.  I can't believe how blonde my hair was, was I trying to look like a Playboy Bunny reject?  Oh that reminds me, I need to make a hair appointment to get my gray's covered up.  Tanning Booth?  Those things are bad for you  and I don't want my face to look like leather in 10 years and the last thing I want to do is look like Snooki's long lost sister. I can't even go out in natural sunlight without wearing SPF 15.   I can't believe how lame I've become, I'm going to end up alone with 50 cats."

When I was 21: Periods

                I feel like an alien baby is about to rip from my uterus.   I want to eat everything in freaking sight right now, and bathe in chocolate but I can't because I'm so bloated I could of been a spare flotation device for the Titanic.  WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?!  I don't like that tone of your stare, ok your now officially pissing me off, just your presence is pissing me off.  I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you.

Now that I'm 30: Periods

                I feel like an alien baby is about to rip from my uterus.   I don't want to go out tonight, I just want to lay in bed and be miserable because every outfit I put on,  I look like humpty dumpty's twin sister.  I need to sleep at least 5 additional hours because these cramps are kicking my ass.   WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?!  I don't like that tone of your stare, ok your now officially pissing me off, just your presence is pissing me off.  I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you.

When I was 21: Exercising

                "Even though I am a size 0, I still need to lose weight.  I'm still going to eat and drink what I want though.  I go dancing at least 1-2 days a week, so that should cancel out having to go to a gym, because that is technically cardio and  when I dance, I don't leave the floor till 2 am.  Even though I drink Captain and Coke, it's still ok because I sweat my ass off so it instantly leaves my body and nothing tops off a heavy night of drinking like crushing a Domino's Pizza or Seafood Wontons."

Now that I'm 30: Exercising

                "Dear metabolism: Fuck You.  Clearly you and I were not in a committed relationship, considering you left me high and dry.  Now thanks to you, I have had to become a hypocrite and changed my lifestyle.  I have changed my diet, and am now forced to actually exercise at least 3-5 times a week, in order to not feel like a beached whale during the summer.  With every step I take on my treadmill,  I resent you more and more.  With every bead of sweat that drips from my face, some may consider it a "win" for my health, however I consider it my body crying in anger. "

Keepin' it Real -

Shelby