How Could You Not?!

New Blog

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Sat, 15 Oct 2016 14:40:00 +0000

I started a new blog to try to make it more pretty. Check it out! I'm not sure how you subscribe to it, but it'll be where I post my new travel adventures and whatnot.

Plans for a Trip Around the World

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Thu, 13 Oct 2016 18:55:00 +0000

I've been doing nothing but working and planning a loooong trip. My itinerary has been changed fifty times and is trying to chase the weather and avoid staying in the schengen countries more than three months in six (visa issues). So here we go.

London 2 weeks

Istanbul 2 weeks

Sofia/Plovdiv 2 weeks

Romania 1 month (OMG I was looking at pictures last night and got obsessed!!)

Budapest 2 weeks

Krakow 2 weeks

Prague 2 weeks

Berlin 2 weeks

Sevilla 1 week

Lisbon/Porto 2 weeks

Bilbao 1 week

Israel (for Christmas. I know. They don't celebrate it.) 2-3 weeks with my great aunt and uncle in Tel Aviv.

Thailand 1 month

Cambodia 2 weeks

Laos 2 weeks

Vietnam 1 month

Bali/Indonesia 2 weeks

Philippines 2 weeks

Malaysia 2 weeks

Australia 2 weeks

Fiji or Tahiti 2 weeks

So. Any ideas? Any thoughts? Anything? Let's talk about it.

Why I Mention My Gynecologist Frequently

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Wed, 12 Oct 2016 12:35:00 +0000

I will ALWAYS mention that I went to my gynecologist instead of just a doctor. I know it may make people uncomfortable, but I don't care. I'm a woman. I have a damn gynecologist. I go to her once a year to make sure I don't have cancer or other diseases.

Women keep that kind of stuff close to themselves. We're told not to discuss our periods because "it's gross." No. It isn't gross. (Okay, it kind of is. Blood makes me squicky.) But 50% of the damn population bleed out of their whatevers every month and have to go to a gynecologist once a year.

I am a big fan of putting things out there to try to normalize them. Women need to go to their gyno frequently. Just because it's our genitals doesn't mean we don't need to get them checked out any less than any other part of our body.

Normalize it! We are women. We have a special doctor. That's okay. Mine is awesome. That's even better.

Anyway. I will continue to mention my gynecologist as much as I can until people aren't uncomfortable hearing the word.

(I promise I don't say what I was there for to most people. That may be a little too much information.)

I have become a raging feminist who rages against the patriarchy. It is true.

An Awkward Situation

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Fri, 23 Sep 2016 12:51:00 +0000

So I look around for jobs constantly. You know me: always on the lookout for something. I get itchy if I'm in one place for too long.

I now have a problem:

References.

I KNOW he won't be like, "She's a whorible employee." (Okay, I made that word up because I'm in pain and think it's hilarious.)

I know that.

But that doesn't stop me from freaking out when filling out references. Sigh. You just don't know, right? Okay, I know. I'll be fine. But a five-year break of a reference from your boss would be suspicious. So I have to include him.

ALL THE ANXIETY.

PS don't hook up with your boss. Bad idea. It'll probably end poorly. Okay, you knew that. Can you go back to February and tell me no? K thanks.

Tahitian Dance Lesson

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Tue, 16 Aug 2016 12:26:00 +0000

So. My friend Janice asked if I wanted to take Tahitian dancing with her. I rarely say no to her, so I said, "Yes! Sounds like fun!" It's only a 10-minute drive from my house. (South Seattle, represent) It's like 95% women of color and two white girls. Awesome.

IT IS NOT FUN. It is literally the hardest workout I've ever done in my life.

Want to try it?

Okay. Let's have a lesson.

Stand up.

Feet an inch apart. Knees bent. Hips tucked under (keep your core tight). Shoulders back.

Okay, hold that squat for an hour.

Put your arms up in a t. HOLD THEM FOR AN HOUR.

Okay, move your hips from side to side. And in a big circle. Very fast. But also some slow. Some sways. (To "cool down.")

HOLD THAT DAMN SQUAT FOR AN HOUR.

SWEAT LIKE YOU'VE NEVER SWEATED BEFORE. (It's 90 degrees in Seattle right now with no air conditioning in this second-floor classroom.)

CRY A LITTLE BECAUSE YOUR THIGHS ARE SCREAMING.

CRY MORE BECAUSE YOUR ARMS ARE EFFING JELLO.

And that's Tahitian dance.

I thought this was a fun dance class. No, it's a "fun" workout dance class.

IT IS SO HARD.

But I love it.

And one of these days, my hips won't lie. (Right now, they do. They just can't move that way.)

PS this is in no way trying to mock or deride Tahitian dance. I love my Monday class. But it is so so so so so so hard. We had the intermediate class instructor substitute once, and she's harder than our teacher, and I almost cried.

KEEP HOLDING THAT DAMN SQUAT AND GET BACK TO ME.

PPS anyone is welcome to join if you live in the Seattle area!

PPPS I'm totally performing in May. I asked if we can wear tank tops and not bikini tops. And we can, phew. No way would I get up there in a bikini top. My boobs. My stomach. Absolutely not.

Lying

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Wed, 20 Jul 2016 12:30:00 +0000

I've had a lot of lying happening to me lately.

Men and friends.

I understand why some people lie to protect their feelings. I get it. I lie too. But I usually only lie to protect romantic feelings because I'm five years old. (Okay, I'm sure I lie to protect friend feelings too.)

Lying is such a stupid thing. You don't have to lie. Just tell me the truth. I may get mad, but wouldn't we rather have honesty in our relationships? Not too much honesty, like "damn, you look ugly in that top."

Maybe people always lie to me, and I just don't know and accept it to be fine in life.

I especially hate it when people lie to make themselves look better. If you have that much of a problem with who you actually are that you have to lie about it, maybe you should work on yourself a little bit.

Speaking of, I'm definitely starting therapy tomorrow to work on my relationship issues and my poor communication. I'll get it together somehow. I'll have successful relationships one day.

Saying Yes

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Tue, 12 Jul 2016 12:37:00 +0000

Five years ago, I went to a birthday party for someone I went to church with. (I know, but I said it was five years ago.) She moved her party from her house to the clubhouse at her complex because she thought more people were attending than she had planned on.

I wasn't going to go (I hate parties), but I let someone convince me to attend.

We showed up. There were only about 7 of us there. Nobody else came. I jumped rope in a dress. (Uh, don't do that. It'll float up, and everyone will see your butt.) I felt awful for the hostess/birthday girl. Here she was, trying her hardest to have a good time, upgrading to a bigger venue, and nobody was there.

That was the moment I decided I'd say "yes" more in my life and accept almost every invitation to do things. I don't want people to try to plan things for everyone and not succeed.

Most of the time, I really regret saying yes. I'll want to stay home and do nothing. (I've recently started reading the Magicians series by Lev Grossman, and I want to read it all the time. I finished it yesterday though. Now I have to find time to watch the TV show!) I want to lie on my couch and watch Netflix. I want to take solitary walks through Seward Park. I want to sit on my butt and plan the future.

But no. I go. I only say "no" if I have prior plans or if I end up being sick or have a migraine.

And you know what? I enjoy myself 9.5/10 times. I don't regret being out with people. I don't regret going to see those burlesque shows. I have a lot of damn fun. I fill my life with things and people.

Some people (cough Janice) take advantage of this. She invites me to take Tahitian dance, go try new restaurants, go to Vegas, watch burlesque shows, etc..... And I love her for this. She has enriched my life so much. She gets me off my butt, especially when I'm down.

So there you go. My social-life strategy for almost five years. My life has improved so much because I almost always have something to do. I've experienced so much and met so many new people. I've traveled to Germany and South Africa because two people offhandedly invited me, and I said I'd go. Yeah, I'll take advantage. But only because I want people to take advantage of me too. Come visit! I have fun!

Someone labeled me as popular a few months ago. I was whining about figuring out what to wear to go out with friends. "Gee, must be tough being popular as an adult." And that still is definitely not true. I just don't turn people down. I actively seek out things to do with friends. I try really hard to keep busy. (See past post on something missing in my life. It's not friends or activities.)

I used to let TV and DVR rule my life. I had 20-30 shows on my DVR that I watched religiously every week. I had no real life at all. And here I am, having barely watched TV since coming back from South Africa. (Other than Game of Thrones, but HOW COULD I NOT WATCH IT WHEN IT'S BEYOND THE BOOKS, AND I'M SO EXCITED ABOUT IT, AND OMG THE TOWER OF JOY AND OMG BENJEN AND OMG JON SNOW AND OMG HODOR. I cried so hard at "hold the door." SO SO HARD.)

This is probably why I go on so many mediocre and bad dates. Because if nothing else, they'll be a damn good story.

Try saying yes. It feels good. I feel like I'm being a better friend as well. These aren't pity yeses. They're genuine "so excited to hang out with you" yeses. And don't back out. Those people are the worst. See how much fun you can have in your life. Mine has definitely improved.

Update on South Africa

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Fri, 08 Jul 2016 16:39:00 +0000

Of course I texted him. Do you know me at all?

My car has had his name stuck on it whenever I turned to a certain radio station. It was cracking me up! I took a picture and finally sent it to him.

"This has been cracking me up. I'm not sure why this has happened, but the Mercedes is stuck on this. I don't know why. It remembers...."

He responded, "you'll never understand the bond we had."

Me: "you were just a flirtation. It's committed to me."

"I bet it tells all the ladies that."

Then I got a little bitter: "no, sorry, it doesn't lie."

I sent another text, "ignore me. Let's go back to being non friends. K."

"Ok. I thought you'd be in a better mood because the new backstreet boys album is coming out."

I BUSTED OUT SOME REAL SHIT HERE, GUYS.

"In order for us to be friends again, we'd have to have an open, honest conversation, and I 1) don't think you're capable of that, 2) don't think I am either, and 3) don't think there's a point to it. Let's acknowledge that our friendship served its purpose, and now it's over. I had a great time with you, and I hope you did too, Ernie. (you know I'm dramatic.)" (he hates that nickname, so of course I used it.)

He hasn't responded, and I don't think he will.

PART ONE

PART TWO

So the Time My Pants Fell off in Front of Everybody

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Tue, 05 Jul 2016 12:35:00 +0000

I had an American party on Friday night. It was supposed to be an ironic America party, but I think I had too much fun for it to be ironic. (Just look at my Instagram.)

So I had had a couple drinks. I make a mean cherry limeade. So I'd had a few a few. And we were doing karaoke. (Karaoke is my favorite. So my favorite.) I was up singing some song with my drink in my hand. So picture me, with a microphone and a drink in my hands. I was wearing my newish blue shorts. They're a little big on the legs, but that's okay.

I was dancing and singing, and I suddenly noticed my pants were sliding off my butt. I'm there, my pants are around my thighs, and my butt was out there for all to see. (I think there were 10 people in my house.) My friend Susan ran over to pull up my pants, but I fell onto my couch and pulled up the pants myself.

So that's how I pantsed myself in front of my guests at my party. I love showing everyone my little flat butt. (Whine face emoji)

PS I now have 36 cans of America beer at my house and 7 cans of PBR. I don't drink beer sooooo I'm not sure what I can do with all that crap. Bleeech someone come take it. Help.

PPS I have multiple drunk texts texted to myself and my friend Ashley instead of SA. (I unblocked him because I hate having people blocked.) He was always my favorite person to drunk text. These were the ten questions I have for him that I would need answered if we were to be friends again that I know he'd never answer. Thank you, friends, for stopping me.

The Night I Tried to Lose My Virginity

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Tue, 28 Jun 2016 12:11:00 +0000

(Mom and family, please don't read this post.)

This was a few years ago, buuuuuut everyone was so excited about my sad stories that I thought I'd share another embarrassing/awkward one.

New Year's Eve. A friend of mine (Tim) and I headed up to the Seattle Center with a bunch of Mormon friends. He and I separated from the rest of the group and headed to a speakeasy kind of bar in Lower Queen Anne.

On our way, we were stopped by a man who looked homeless. (Kitty corner from Toulouse Petit, and I'll never forget it.) He had a bottle in a paper bag in his right hand. He said, "Would you two like to hear me sing opera?" Me: "Yeah, Tim loves musical things. Go for it." "FIGARO FIGARO FIIIGAAAROOOOO!" We were cracking up.

He offered us his bag. "Did you guys know you could get a bottle of 80-proof for 10 dollas? TEN DOLLAS!" "Uh, no, we didn't." "Take a sip." "No, we're good. We're good."

"TAKE. A. SIP."

We looked at each other, shrugged, and went for it. We both took a sip out of the homeless man's bottle. (Hey, alcohol is a disinfectant, right?) (This is before we'd had anything to drink, btw. Completely sober, drinking out of a random man on the street's bottle.) So that happened this evening.

We headed to the bar. We had a few drinks, and then we went to see the fireworks over the space needle. Somehow, the topic turned to having sex. He and I had made out a year or two before, but nothing had happened since. (Oh that's multiple stories that I will not be sharing, yikes.)

We decided we were going to lose our virginities to each other. (We'd both recently left the church.) We flirted about the issue the rest of the night, and then we headed back to his house. (He was home from school and at his parents'.) I was still drunk, so I was sobering up before I headed home.

Neither of us made a move. We were lying on the couch, cuddling, and still, nothing. (IS THIS THE STORY OF MY LIFE.) (He later told me, "If we'd just gone to your house, it would've happened." Sigh.) I finally ended up getting up and driving home a few hours later.

The next day at work, I got brave and sent a text saying, "Sooooo about the virginity thing.... I'm down if you are."

He responded (okay this was years ago so I don't exactly remember), "Oh, yeah, I wasn't really serious about it blah blah blah." (Hi, men, you can't just say you were joking about EVERYTHING. Sooner or later, it's effing serious.)

Me: "Well, I'm still coming to visit you in Thailand."

This was the time when I lost 15 pounds in a month because I was so anxious before my vacation. He'd flat out rejected me, but I was still going to effing Thailand because VACATION.

By the time I'd gotten there, we'd both lost our virginities. He had a girlfriend though, so that was ALSO another awkward friendish vacation. (He didn't walk around in his underwear though, and I was also wearing more clothes. We also didn't really touch at all the entire trip. Because WE WERE JUST FRIENDS. AND FRIENDS DON'T PUT THEIR HAND ON EACH OTHER'S KNEE. NOT EVEN FRIENDS WHO HAVE DISCUSSED SLEEPING TOGETHER.) But it was a fun week. So much fun. Songkran in Thailand was awesome. I'd highly recommend it.

Let's not think about how I acted on that trip. Something I won't share. no.

What have you all learned from all my awkward stories? I have no game and am going to die alone due to my inability to fully open up to men I care about. (I've already acknowledged this as one of my flaws.) But hey, I've tried recently. I've tried.

Calming Down

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Mon, 20 Jun 2016 12:51:00 +0000

What does one blog after writing about the most perplexing situation of her life.

I'm not doing anything crazy for a few months. 2016 has already been the craziest year of my life, and I'm planning on not letting anything else go wrong. AKA I'M NOT GOING TO TRY TO MAKE ANY EMOTIONAL CONNECTIONS BECAUSE IT'S JUST NOT WORKING FOR ME. Even if it's someone I know likes me in some kind of way. (Usually just physically. sigh.)

The past year has been pretty intense for me:

1) Buying a house

2) Decorating my house

3) CA for a good friend from high school's bachelorette and wedding

4) New Zealand

5) Disneyland

6) CA for Christmas

7) Iceland

8) South Africa

9) Spending a lot of time with baby C

10) New job

11) Someone I've known and admired for five years tried to sleep with me and completely ruined my perception of him. (He also pretended that he had feelings for me but truly didn't. Hmm theme of the year.)

12) Good friends came and went

I think I'm ready to just BE in Seattle. I'm going to reduce my trips out of town. I'm going to find more hobbies. I'm going to keep working a lot because duh, extravagant international travel is still on the docket.

Ugh and can Daenerys just die. She bores me. I don't know why. Sigh.

Why I Dump Friends PART TWO

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Fri, 17 Jun 2016 12:45:00 +0000

So we were drinking and touching on the couch. We were looking at the stars and listening to an impala (?) in heat. My head was on his shoulder, and I was looking up and talking to him. Then we went in to this ridiculously romantic dinner next to a fireplace. (I didn't think it was going to be all romantic, but hey, I WANTED TO TAKE A BATH NEXT TO ELEPHANTS, AND THIS PLACE HAD A DEAL!!!) We had some really good conversations at dinner. I feel like we got so much closer, even as friends. It was great.

That night, I decided to take the bull by the horns. (And my friend told me to stop being a pansy and say something.) I got on top of his bed, which was next to the fireplace (we had two twins). I said, "I'm kind of offended they gave us two twins. How did they know we weren't a couple." Him: "I told them we'd want two beds. Did you want one?" Me: "How am I supposed to molest you when it gets cold?" They had set a fire while we were at dinner, so the sheets were so damn warm. I said, "I can't tell if you are completely joking when you mention things about fitting the two of us in the bath or joking about sleeping together or if you actually want those things." He said, "I generally do joke about those things."

So I went out onto the deck at 1:30am and cried. I did. (Good thing he will never read this, yikes.) I'd gone out there and said something, and I got rejected. But the next morning was fine. No biggie. The day was normal. We worked out during the middle of the day. We talked about life shit.

I might have started crying on the night drive. It was dark. I cried. Later, he was like, "I know you cried on the night drive." Me: "Um, whatever are you talking about." "Yeah, you got the sniffles, and then your eyes were puffy later."

We did drinks outside looking at the stars again. Again with the closeness with my head on the shoulder. It was lovely. And just made me feel super close to him. Again with the great conversation at dinner. That night, I got into his bed because it had the warm sheets from the fire. I told him to take my bed because I wanted the warm sheets. (Yeah, I'm an asshole.) He got into the twin bed with me. (Remember, we were both in our underwear.) I ended up drawing song lyrics on his bare back while he guessed what they were. He fell asleep, and I got out because uh, no, I'm not sharing a twin bed.

The next morning, he was like, "What happened last night? Why/when did you leave the bed?"

Last day at the luxury resort. I took the bath next to the elephants. We watched soccer/rugby between lunch and high tea. During the evening drive, I held his hand to warm it up, and he put his hand on my arm while I was doing it. After, we watched soccer again before dinner. His team was losing. (Okay, that's important, I promise.) Later, I asked, "Are you going to look up the score and see if they lost?" "No, I'll be sad. I'll be sad on me time." Me: "Um, okay, what time is it now?" "It's our time."

We were going to the hideout that night. (Look up my instagram, and all the pictures of all these things are on there, I promise.) We got up to the top, and the beds were slightly separated. Me: "How are we supposed to share body heat in the cold tonight?" "Let's push them together." So we pushed the beds together, lifted up the sheets, and ended up with our legs intertwined. We were just looking at each other, legs intertwined, and we talked. I then ended up being the big spoon. It was cold, yikes. We talked about how I wanted to be proposed to... how I didn't know if I'd want my dad to be asked before I get engaged because I didn't want everyone knowing before me. He made me hot chocolate. We fell asleep under a full moon and the stars. We woke up all dewy. It was an interesting experience I hope to have again some day.

We drove back to Joburg the next day. We hadn't gotten sick of each other yet. His sister was waiting at the house to try to meet me, but we came back too late. YES, EVEN THE SISTER THOUGHT IT. I showed the parents all our pictures because I'm a sharer. I love showing everyone everything.

I gave the parents a bottle of champagne and a card saying, "Come visit Seattle! I'd love to host you." The mom: "Be careful. Guests never say no once invited." Me: "Yeah, ask your son."

The next day, the dad was driving us back from the car rental place. He said, "TBN, I think you have to leave the train station as soon as he drops you off because you're a little late." Me: "Oh, that's fine!" He quickly shot a glance at my friend like, "WTF happened? Why is she okay with a quick goodbye?" He later saw me out the door and said, "Well, what times are the best times to visit Seattle?" So sweet.

Their damn dog hated me the entire time I'd been there. The dog I'd gotten pictures of from the day or second day they got it hated me. I said, "I can't believe Cole hated me. I loved that dog from the moment I saw him." My friend: "Cole just didn't know what he was missing."

We had a lingering hug at the train station. "TBN, you have to come visit again." Me: "Well, there's just so many places to visit in the world." (Yes, I AM SMOOTH.) "After you've gone to all the places, come back." I cried all the way to the airport because I knew we'd never see each other again, and our relationship would never be the same.

He texted asking if I had gotten to the airport. Since I was safely away, I could say, "I'll miss you. I got used to your being around." Him: "Yeah, me too. It was like having a roommate I didn't hate."

So I finally got the cojones to say something (when I was safely in Seattle). (This is the sad part of the story, k.) I said, "What was with the touching? I'm only that touchy when I have feelings for someone." Him, like a day and a half later: "I'm kind of the opposite. There were a few weird moments. I consider us really good friends, and I'm sorry for blurring that line." (A few weird moments? The whole thing was weird.) Me: "No, I did the same. It's fine." Him: "so we're good?" (Then he included something that referred to the man who broke me earlier this year, and it might've set me off.)

Me: "We'll never see each other again, so it doesn't matter." "I hope that's not true. I'm genuinely sorry if I upset you." Me: "Don't worry about it." Then a little bit later: "No, I don't want to be like that because your friendship means a lot to me, and I don't want to lose it. But let's not pretend that you didn't bring up why we didn't sleep together in Seattle, and I'm making this up out of nowhere." Him: "I'm not pretending that you are. I just didn't think you were taking anything even remotely seriously. I was being an asshole."

I SAW RED. So being all touchy, saying, "It's our time" was what, just WHAT? "Cool. I don't know what to say to that. I think it's best if we say goodbye for now." "I get it. I honestly wasn't trying to lead you on in any way. (Yes because who doesn't put their hand on platonic friends' knees.) Take as much time as you need, but I hope you let me know when we're okay again. Because I'd hate to lose your friendship over this." Me: "I won't. I don't deal well with people who fuck with me for their own enjoyment. Please convince your parents to come visit Seattle though."

Then I broke down a few days later, realized he wasn't manipulating me for nine months, and we were talking again. It just wasn't the same. I told him what he did reminded me of this other man who had hurt me earlier this year. "I'm nothing like Peter. He sounds like a bastard who never cared about you." (Oh, and you so obviously do, huh?) I did tell him it hurt my feelings when he said I liked my men without feelings. BECAUSE I WAS BEING BRAVE AND SHIT.

He obviously felt awkward. I didn't anymore. Just because I had some feelings didn't mean we couldn't be friends. But once we stopped texting, what's the point? Why should we be friends 10000 miles away? He started looking for an apartment near his work (that he hates). I live in Seattle. Our friendship is nothing if we aren't actively communicating.

So I finally bit the bullet and deleted him as a friend on facebook and blocked him from whatsapp. Because why? Why should I sit there and wait for him to talk to me and have him be completely in charge of the friendship. If I text someone, I like a response. He sucks at that. And if we don't text, ain't no friendship to me. If we don't share life shit, there is nothing. I just don't see a point to a friendship with someone who is like two different people and is 10000 miles away. Someone who has thirty different questions to answer before I would want to keep our friendship. Someone who will never explain himself and what happened or what he was thinking. Someone who didn't even treat me like a good friend. A good friend would've acted differently, like going to work early and coming home early so we could hang out. A good friend would've waited to watch Game of Thrones with me like we planned on. A good friend wouldn't have acted so weird.

I'm fighting the urge to send an email to his parents saying I'm doing well and want them to come visit next year. I won't. But I want to haha.

Here's the story. If you understand, let me know. If you know wtf happened, let me know. If you know what he got out of it, let me know.

BUT LET ME JUST SAY. The trip was amazing. Even though he acted all fake for whatever reason, it was a delightful experience. I've never felt closer to anyone in a friendship. It was a pretty perfect trip. I loved every second of it (even the awkward seconds. Even the crying seconds because it proves I'm not a sociopath).

I will never forget how much fun I had with my friend in South Africa, even though our friendship is over.

LINK TO PART ONE

LINK TO THE OFFICIAL END

Why I Dump Friends PART ONE

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Thu, 16 Jun 2016 20:18:00 +0000

So I've had multiple people ask about who was with me in my SA pictures. And no, it wasn't a secret relationship, and no, it wasn't anything. But let me discuss the past nine months.

I had a cute Airbnb guest last year. (I mentioned him a few times. The one C said I should marry.) We spent more time together than I usually spend with Airbnb guests. We stayed up until 2am talking one night. You know that's a big deal for me. I go to sleep at like, 9. I took him out to eat with my friends. We took a walk around Seward Park around sunset, watched Jurassic World, and looked over Seattle's skyline at midnight from Alki. Another night, we went to Paseo. Mmmm Paseo. Nothing happened between us that week. I thought we had a connection, but that was just how I felt. Okay, so I grew feelings over time for someone who lived 10000 miles away, but that's absolutely my MO: feelings for inaccessible men to avoid getting hurt. Okay back to the story.

In October, he asked why he didn't see the scandalous or crazy side of TBN when he was in Seattle. I said I would never do that with someone who was staying with me because I needed a good review, and he said, "you would've gotten a better review from me, and you know it." So we assumed he had a bit of a crush. He also knew everything I did on fb. Everything. Things I posted. Things I liked. Things I commented on. Arguments I had with my family. Arguments on other people's statuses. And the last names of some of my BFFs. (K) We assumed crush.

The months went on of our talking every couple days or every day for a while. I asked him if he would go to Victoria Falls and the game reserve with me. He said he'd take off the week while I was in Joburg. He sent articles on what we would do while I was there. "Remind me that I want to show you these places when you're here."

I mentioned something about an attractive guy once. He told me, "Behave yourself, TBN."

Meanwhile, I was telling him about dates I was going on and whatnot because I was trying not to have feelings. "Dammit, Julie, no feelings for male friends, especially friends who live 10000 miles away. But then I gave up dating because it just wasn't doing anything for me.

I asked him, "Can we make a pact that we won't hate each other by the end of my trip?" "Only if you don't fall hopelessly in love with me." Okay, I might have. Dammit. But I guess we don't hate each other.

January rolled around. He told me a long story about wanting someone he works with, and I piped up with, "geez, this story is long for not getting action. Let me share my recent story: 'I wanted him, I went over, I slept with him, I went home, the end." I told him to finish his damn story. He came back with, "I don't feel like finishing. Has a guy ever said that to you before?" (Actually, yes.) It wasn't the most pleasant conversation of my life. In fact, I was pacing the floors of my house. And he didn't finish the story.

In March, I went to Iceland. I held hands with my friend Jessie while we were watching the northern lights. It was amazing. I drunk texted my SA that "we will be holding hands while watching the sunset over the Zambezi. It's just what you have to do in a friendship with me." He mentioned it multiple times over the next few months, and I'm like, yes, hand holding with waterfalls and sunsets. Got it. "I'm going to Botswana with my gran, but there won't be any hand holding on that trip." "And miss a day holding hands next to a waterfall? No way." OKAY, I SAID I LIKE TOUCHING NOW.

He told me he'd been looking for jobs and apartments in Seattle. No, I didn't think he was moving to Seattle because of me, but wtf is your obsession with Seattle. Why are you obsessed with the Seahawks? Why did you tell someone you'd move to Seattle and buy the Seahawks if you had billions of dollars? I asked him, and he said, "I just liked that downtown area more than any place I visited." (His gran told me he liked SF the best. Whateves.) Downtown Seattle sucks. It's the worst part of Seattle. So touristy and not authentically Seattle.

I told him, "I'm sorry I haven't offered to marry you for your green card. Is that poor manners of me?" "I don't think the authorities would believe we were married." "What, why? Because I'm so much older than you? Is it the white hair?" "No, because you're so far out of my league." We assumed crush. (This was just because he's a flirty guy.)

So while I was in Cape Town, he asked if he was invited anywhere with me the next week because he hadn't put in for time off. Me: uh I thought you were taking the week off like you told me months ago, but okay. I'll plan my week in joburg, which I hadn't done yet because I thought he would be off. I travel alone. I'm fine with that. But wtf? Why the change?

On the flight to Victoria Falls, he asked if sending a text to someone you've been on one date with, telling them they're beautiful, is too much. Me: wait what. Yes. Okay. He said, "Well, I'm sure you've gotten it before..." Me: "Um, what?" Him: "Nevermind." I did tell him I referred to him as my "rental boyfriend." Because I did.

So we got to Victoria Falls. We went swimming. We talked. It was fun. We'd talked a lot over the past months, and it was better being in real life. I told him how I only have feelings for men every two years. "2013, it was TDH, and 2016.." "Last year, it was me, right?" (Obviously joking.) Taken aback, I stammered out, "Oh yeah, sure, definitely you." (Being sarcastic but secretly meaning it.)

We got in the pool; he got out because it was freezing but sat on the edge to talk. We enjoyed the show and dinner, drank a little, and went back to the room. He took off his clothes and was in his underwear. Me: wearing my hooters shirt over my polka dotted little sleeping outfit. (It helps keep my boobs in check.) When I saw he was only in his underwear, I took off my shirt because I wasn't sleeping in something confining if he wasn't. So we were in the same bed in our underwear. I took a selfie because a friend of mine didn't believe we weren't having sex. I reached for something, and he semi wrestled with me so I wouldn't get it. And that was it. I later reached for my retainers and said, "ARE YOU READY FOR THIS?" I could feel him tense up and say, "What?" Me: putting on my retainers and smiling because I'm sexy like that.

The next day, only awkward hand holding occurred for a picture, and then he shook my hand off in like, disgust. Oh well. (I was at Victoria Falls. I was okay with not everything being perfect.) He held me back so I'd get attacked by baboons instead of him. (Okay, flirty, not murdery) We were walking back to our hotel when I mentioned something about not having feelings. "Oh, isn't that how you like your men?" (Um, no, that's how they like me.)

Then we went to dinner. I drank a lot because vacation. We were sitting there, he was serving me from the dishes ("No, let me serve you, TBN"), and he told me his mom was really nervous to have me visit. Me: "why? I'm just nobody." "I think my mom thinks we're getting married, and I'm moving to America."

Me: um what. Why wouldn't someone make sure to clarify our relationship to their family? My family knew our exact relationship. We were just friends, and I might have had some feelings. But I tell everybody everything sooo. He told me his grandma wanted to take me to breakfast, and that she had mentioned it three times. I told him my coworkers I hated thought I might be staying in South Africa with him because I wanted to throw them off the scent of my getting a new job. (That's a long story.) I said I've been making some pictures public of the two of us so they'd be fooled. (Yeah, I schemed big on that one.)

We drank a little more and went to the bar. I sat there next to him, and his hand was on my knee. I put my leg over his legs while we were sitting there. Nothing happened still. That night in bed, I put him in a chokehold and tickled him. Still nothing. (Okay my memory is a little fuzzy.) I might've made him cuddle with me while saying, "I'M A TOUCHY PERSON WHEN I'M DRUNK." That rings a bell.

The next morning, I said my memory was a little fuzzy, and he said, "did you enjoy yourself?" implying that something physical happened. Me: "I'd be sad if something happened, and I didn't remember it."

So whateves. We went back to joburg. I met his parents. The mom offered me champagne, and we chatted together while my friend is working out. I told a blow job joke within an hour of meeting them. They were nice people. (Who knows what they thought of me. I tried to get a "so did your parents like me as a potential spouse for you?" from my friend, but they apparently didn't do an "after the guest" discussion.) The mom left me towels in my room and a bowl of candy on the dresser. It was great. We ate dinner and watched tv with the parents. The mom was very concerned on how I was getting around the city. Super sweet. His grandma banged on the window and yelled, "I'M GRANNY!" I set up breakfast with her. "Did he talk to you? Wednesday morning, I'm free!" I totally went because I was not disappointing an 84 year old. She told me all about my friend and his sister. She paid for breakfast. I definitely felt guilty because WE WERE NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP.

Normal week, blah blah blah. I went out during the day and hung out with the parents at night. (I spent more time with the parents than my friend in Joburg.) We didn't go to a single place from the lists he'd shown me. The parents made me dinner almost every night. One night, my friend got under the same blanket as me and was touching my legs with his arms in front of them. Me: (eyes wide open emoji because I would never touch in front of parents unless it was serious) I looked over at his mom, who had a look in her eyes: (hearts in the eyes emoji)

I told them I was trying to get my parents to come visit SA next year. "They can stay with us! I'd love to have your parents stay!" Me: omg you're not going to be in laws; I'm sorry I'm not coming out and telling you this.

The dad showed me a video that I knew my friend would be pissed if I saw... I knew it was because he thought I was so close to his son, so I felt a little guilty, but I wasn't going to say no!!! It was just a silly little video they'd made for Christmas.

We went out to dinner. My friend told me he's been more honest with me than anyone ever. I asked why, he said he didn't know, and I said it's because he loves me so much. (He said he wouldn't discount that I'm annoying.) And if I'm the person he's been the most honest with, uhhh... I'd caught him in little lies a lot (but never mentioned it).

We rented a car to go to the game reserve. On the drive up, I fed him some food since he was driving. He was a little different from the past few days. He was super into the conversation the entire time. It was very get to know youish, "what's your favorite tv shows? Movies? What do you want to name your kids?" It was normal stuff. Maybe he googled, "Things to talk about on 5-hour car drives."

We got to the lodge. Normal stuff. We were late. (You know that's not my shit, but it took longer than expected.) We went on the deck and watched elephants play in the water. We walked around the room and he joked, "how are we supposed to fit two of us in the tub?" Me: "I'm sure we'll manage" (while rolling my eyes). Then we went to drink before dinner. We were super close on the couch, touching. (I may like touching, but I do not touch my platonic friends other than the hand holding while watching the Northern Lights. That's weird for me.)

TO BE CONTINUED...

PART TWO

THE END END

Thank You, Doctor

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Wed, 01 Jun 2016 01:04:00 +0000

I had to go to the gynecologist today. I am lucky enough to have to get yearly pap smears. (Woo, party.)

We had a bit of an awkward conversation...

First of all, it's your gyno, so you get to talk about sexual activity and whatnot. Luckily (unluckily?), I've been pretty much celibate, so that was an easy conversation. We talked about my last two fantastic vacations before we got down to business.

We were discussing violent movies. Somehow, that got to violent rapes in movies/tv shows. I think I mentioned Game of Thrones because she read my tattoo. (Yes, I have a tattoo from A Dance with Dragons on my leg.) So we're sitting there, I'm in a little gown, her hands, speculum, and eyes are on my lady parts, and we're talking about the Outlander man-on-man rape scene. Then all the rape scenes in GoT. Then the violence in District 9 and how it traumatized me for a while. All the while, she's all up in my business.

I'm not sure if there ARE appropriate topics while a gyno is doing such things, but I'm pretty sure rape would never be one of them.

Not my best conversation topic, buuuuut it is something I talk about frequently.

This wasn't as good as the NP who would NOT believe I had never had sex when I was 22, but it was cracking me up on my drive home. (Once I was dressed and didn't have my lady parts on display.)

Let's hope I don't need another biopsy.

I'm starting a new job on Monday. I'm extremely excited. It'll be the first time in 2 1/2 years I won't have to work with someone who hates me. HOLY SHIT, I'M SO EXCITED. I'll be a floating therapist, so I hope it's easy for me to take time off. I really just want to be PRN at a bunch of facilities and earn more money. I'd only have to work 4 days a week to earn as much as I do working 5 days a week. Sigh.

PS I legitimately am giving up on dating now. I just can't do it. I tried to actually date for like a week again. Nobody wants to date me. They only want to sleep with me. That's how it's always been and how it always will be.

PPS please ignore what I wrote (and removed) in my last blog. I was upset and wrote things I shouldn't. Okay time for yoga.

I Don't Haggle

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Thu, 12 May 2016 11:29:00 +0000

Call me a sucker if you will. I will not try to lower prices with people selling items on the side of the street or in a market. I get that they price it super high, and I'm "being screwed over." But you know what, that $5 dollars I'm lowering it mean absolutely nothing to me. But they could mean so much to the person who's selling it.

I've been so fortunate in my life to be able to be educated, buy a home, travel around the world, and meet this person selling me a stone elephant, wooden hippo and elephant, and a stone penguin. (Okay they are adorable. My soon-to-be-born niece is getting the hippo.) I can afford five more effing dollars.

I think all of us traveling can. Don't be cheap to the person selling the item on the side of the road in a second/third-world country. Pay that extra five fucking dollars.

Or just call me a sucker and be proud that you lowered the price to something more acceptable. Be proud that you're an asshole.

Living My Best Life

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Sun, 08 May 2016 04:28:00 +0000

I'm in Cape Town, South Africa, a place I've wanted to visit for years. (I have a roommate at my house, so please don't come and try to rob me. He never leaves the house.) I just got here yesterday, so all I've done so far is take public transportation, miss my bus stop, drag a 50-pound suitcase up a large hill to get to Bo-Kaap, a very (literally) colorful part of the city, sleep for a few hours, and then go to a braai with my Airbnb hosts. It's nice. And humid.

Today, I'm going cage diving with great whites. I don't know what I'm doing either. I'm terrified, but it's all about going out of your comfort zone and fully living on vacation, right?

Anyway. I've had a few people tell me lately that I inspire them. It's nice, but it also makes me feel kind of fake. 90% of my life is boring. I go to work, come home, watch some tv or read a book, and go to sleep. I don't do exciting things in my day-to-day life. I worry that I'm only showing the good parts of my life nowadays. I'm all about showing the boring, non-exciting parts of my life. I Instagram pictures of my Hanukkah socks and red vine twistettes, you know?

I am trying to live my best life most of the time, which to me involves coming home from work and going to the gym. It involves multiple nights a month dedicated to friends. It involves a lot of vacations. It involves me not giving tons of shits about what other people think of me. (That's the most liberating feeling.)

I hope I come across as someone who knows how to balance the boring of her life with the exciting parts. Because most of my life is the boring, regular stuff. I just have the opportunity to go out and do amazing things every so often. I'm not sure the point of this other than "I'm not cool, okay. I'm quite boring."

But I guess if one of my life experiences inspires someone to get out there and live more fully, I can only be happy about it. I want everyone to do what they truly want to do in life: take that step out of who you are and try to become who you want to be. (That was me in 2008 with my first alone trip to Scotland.) So many people nowadays focus on others and their lives, and I think we should try to focus inwardly and fix ourselves first. I can't tell if this is my narcissistic side coming out or what. Oh well.

You can still follow my "exciting" life on Instagram.

PS 2016 has been cray, but it's not something I can openly talk about. Let's just say, men are the worst, and they will lie and manipulate you to try to get what they want.

PPS I got a new job. No more working with the dramz, I hope.

PPPS I am truly happy. I was reading through my old posts about depression, and I think I've finally gotten to a point in my life where I don't have months of sadness. Winter still hits me hard, but that's not the worst that could happen.

I Turned Thirty

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Tue, 17 Nov 2015 13:59:00 +0000

My thirtieth birthday was a week ago yesterday. And now I'm old. I didn't do anything too crazy. I've just considered everything I've done this year as a present to myself.

1) Germany

2) Bought my first house

3) New paint

4) New bedroom and downstairs and living room furniture

5) Beautiful chandeliers

6) New Zealand

7) Giving up dating (wait, that's not for my birthday. That's for my happiness.)

8) Travelled down for my friend's bachelorette party and wedding

Hmm, now let's think of next year:

1) Iceland

2) Vegas with friends

3) South Africa

4) Painted cabinets

5) Built-in bookshelves

6) SLC

7) Sacramento (twice so far)

8) San Diego sometime?

9) LA too

Can't wait to get out there and experience being thirty instead of lamenting it!

House Before and Middle Pictures

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Wed, 04 Nov 2015 13:02:00 +0000

Okay, here is my bottom floor before and middle:

And here is my middle floor before and middle:

You Should Marry (Enter Name Here)!!

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Mon, 02 Nov 2015 12:19:00 +0000

I put this on facebook already, but I decided to blog it too because I like repetitive things. And C is effing hilarious.

So my sister's son (who I would take if they died, thank you) has never seen me with a significant other. He's never even seen me with a male friend. Other than one man: my airbnb rental friend from South Africa. Long story, but he ended up going to my sister's house and meeting her and baby C. (He's five, but he'll always be my baby.) They both imitated his accent because we're all assholes. "ahntie ahntie ahntie. Who says ahntie?!" (No, I haven't been saying yisssssssss since August....)

Anyway. C was spending the night at my house a month later. We like to go out to breakfast because this one place in my neighborhood has the best breakfast. Mmmmmmm now I want it. We were walking on my street.

C: "Auntie BN, you should have a baby so I could have more cousins."
Me: "C, I can't have a baby. I'm not married! You have to be married to have a baby."

I could see his mind working. He's a very logical kid.

C: "You should marry Nick!"

Because the only man he's even seen me near that I'm not related to is someone he met for five minutes a month prior. (He did give him the most adorable hug on the leg, and my heart exploded. C is legit the best kid ever.) I laughed then I cried from loneliness. But hey, he has a good memory. He also thought South Africa is near Texas, but I blame my sister for that bit of incorrect information.

Anyway, I'm hoping, even though I'm on a dating break, that I'll magically meet someone somehow. I hope I didn't break C's little heart when I laughed really really hard after he suggested my rental friend. It was just the cutest little thing ever and also the saddest for me and my life.

I'll take some blind dates if anybody knows a professional man who's not a tech bro who lives in Seattle, thanks. I prefer the medical profession, but I would also accept lawyers, men in tech, businessmen, and professors. They just have to like large Marilyn Monroe type blondes with huge boobs who like to be in charge and need to be told "no" so they don't run over everybody. Oh? Those men don't exist? Yeah, I figured that.

I Don't Know How This Happened

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Mon, 26 Oct 2015 14:21:00 +0000

This is my sheet. It has been laundered.

We do not know if this man was an olive or what. (Thanks, Caitlin.) But all I know is I cleaned my sheets and will now have to buy new ones.

He was definitely the sweatiest man in the world. Literally dripping in my mouth. So there. The funniest and grossest thing ever. Anyone want to start a donation fund? California king sheets are expensive.

Oh but I did decide to go on a real dating break. Nothing. Deleted everything. I'm done for a while. I just can't deal with the almost emotions but not really because men don't actually like me. Sigh. (I haven't even been dating for months.)

This is probably why I started blogging again. I'm not working very much, I'm about to turn thirty, and I'm still just as single as I was when I started this thing.

I need a new hobby other than trying to remodel my house with no money.

Beef Flavored

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Mon, 19 Oct 2015 15:18:00 +0000

So my sister, brother in law, and I were lifting up my bed to put a rug under it. The rug is huge. It literally took us an hour. My bed is also huge (reference old posts about bed).

We finally lifted up my bed.

And what did we find?

An open condom wrapper.

I ran over, picked it up, and threw it in the trash. But the damage was done. My sister and I looked at each other. My brother in law laughed.

I said, "let's pretend that didn't happen."

Sherri said, "we'll just pretend it was an empty ramen flavoring packet. Beef flavored."

Graham piped up with, "I was thinking smoked sausage myself."

And I died and am writing this from hell.

Pixie Cut

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Mon, 19 Oct 2015 12:09:00 +0000

I got a pixie cut in February I feel like my entire life has been leading up to this pixie cut. I've had it for what, 8 months now? I do feel like I'm kind of manly now. The back of my head isn't exactly feminine. But I'm me, and I have a pretty face, so I can pull it off. It's funny how people say that to you once you do it. "I just don't have the face for that! You're lucky that you do." I guess I used to say the same thing, but it's just so weird. Me, with a face made for a pixie cut? Nah.

I look at pictures of myself with longer hair, and I don't even recognize myself. Pixie cuts seriously change your face. So weird. I also feel like men might not like it as much, but funnily enough, I don't give a shit.

The haircut:

That baby is my sister's little guy. I love him more than I love anybody. That was us on our trip to CA to visit his grandma and grandpa. He sleeps over at my house every couple months, and we have a good time together.

Anyway. I have super short hair now. Welcome to my new pixie fabulous life.

Cheaters Never Prosper

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Wed, 14 Oct 2015 12:54:00 +0000

Okay, New Zealand was the BEST. I have literally never had a better time on a vacation than I had there. (And everyone knows how many vacations I go on.)

I just didn't say no. (Okay, that's a lie. I did say no to a guy who sent me a message on tinder saying, "I need a good blow job." No.) Oh, look, I have a free afternoon. PARASAILING. Oh, look, free night. GO OUT WITH AN AUSSIE. Oh, look, sky diving. (It was terrifying.) I tried to bungee jump, but it got canceled due to the wind. (Okay, I was happy about that one. ayyyyy)

So basically, I can die happy now. I don't know how I'm going to beat it next year. I'm going to South Africa in August or September. I had an airbnb guest this year, and we hung out while he was here. (I called him my rental friend for the week. Shhh he doesn't know that.) We became friends, and he invited me to come visit with my mum. She's not going to go, but I am!! I looked at some tickets, and they were less than $1200!!! Basically free. Anyway. I'll have to plan something amazing next year.

OKAY BACK TO THE POINT.

I went out with four guys in New Zealand. One Englishman, one Kiwi, one Israeli (shalom), and one Aussie. I had fun! The Aussie sat far away from me then kissed me good night. Hello, mixed signals, buddy. The Kiwi guy and I had a great time! He seemed super nervous, so I was like, "man, this guy must not date a lot. Oh well." We went to a bar with a "Mexican-inspired menu." Um, no. No. No. No. No. No. Mexican, my ass. We looked at the shadows made by my hands and some furniture and found shapes in them. Yes, we were a little intoxicated.

After I left the country, I sent him a message just being like, "Hey, it was a great night! If you ever want to visit Seattle, you have a friend here!" Because I love having friends in foreign countries. I do I do I do. Then I can take advantage of them, and they can take advantage of me. Isn't that what friends are for? I want them to take advantage of my house in Seattle and visit! COME VISIT ME. I LOVE VISITORS AND STUFF. Okay.

So I googled him. Because I'm a stalker, and I had that good of a time. I found his facebook. Nothing there, dammit. I clicked on a girl's name on his facebook, and guess who it was.

His effing girlfriend of a year and a half. Oh, now we know why he was nervous.

I cried. I think cheating on a significant other is one of the worst things you can do. It's so hurtful. Betraying someone's trust like that is terrible. I don't even really watch movies where people cheat because it hurts my sensitive little heart that much. And here I am, "the other woman." Oh dear lord, that's ridiculous. I would never ever ever knowingly do that to someone. I once went on a date with someone who later told me he was in a committed open relationship. I don't do that either. Do whatever you want to do, but don't involve me in it.

Anyway. I feel weird. There's no way in the world I would ever try to tell his girlfriend or something because that's none of my business. And who knows? Maybe they have an open relationship too. I don't know. But I just feel awful. I'm sure he's cheated before and will continue to cheat, but I hate that I was involved in someone's duplicity. And it makes me question everything that happened on the date.

Oh and she looks like my 22-year-old sister. Who has a total type of platinum blonde Marilyn wannabes? This guy. SHE IS THE KIND OF GIRL YOU CHEAT WITH, NOT ON, YOU IDIOT.

I went on a date with a guy who looked like a 6'4" buff Jesus literally an hour after I discovered this. This man had to be 250+ pounds of pure muscle. He came up behind me and accidentally bumped into me the next day (he left his glasses at my house the night before), and I'm pretty sure I got bruised. (Okay, and turned on. Muscles don't usually do it for me--hi, thin men--but I just couldn't not.)

ANYWAY. He kissed me on Friday night. In between kisses, I may have asked five times, "ARE YOU SURE YOU ARE SINGLE?!" "DO YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?" "I DON'T MESS AROUND WITH MEN IN RELATIONSHIPS."

I'm sure I won't have a complex about this for the next ten years or anything.

New Zealand

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Sun, 27 Sep 2015 19:02:00 +0000

I'm in New Zealand making my way across with a selfie stick. Check it out: _jules_65

Why Does Everyone Suck Nowadays

noreply@blogger.com (Jules AF) — Wed, 15 Jul 2015 01:21:00 +0000

Hi, I needed to talk about this, so I decided to open my forgotten blog and discuss it, even if it's only with myself.

I hosted a housewarming party in May. (Oh, hi. I bought a house. Sup.) I made real invitations. I sent them in the effing MAIL. I wanted to make sure friends knew this was important to me because it was a REAL LIFE EVENT. Yeah, I had friends who came. (Love them all.) But I also had friends who didn't make the effort or had "things they forgot about." (Yeah, sure, after I told you about this a month in advance. Sure.) And you know what? THAT PISSES ME OFF.

A woman at work had a bachelorette party. I've worked at my facility for four years; however, this woman has worked there for eleven. So many nurses and aides have know her for the eleven years. She and I aren't super close. I'll come into her office and chat, and we text occasionally. I really enjoy her as a person, but we've never hung out outside of work. I know that's not the case. And only one other coworker was there. I drove to Eatonville from Seattle. (Eatonville is near Mount Rainier, aka an hour and a half away from my house.) Bachelorette parties are important. Weddings are important. Nobody else made the effort. Nobody got a babysitter for their kids or discussed carpooling.

I'm flying down to San Francisco to go to a friend from high school's bachelorette party. Ew, it involves wine. That's true love. I also flew to Germany to visit her in April. That was effing fantastic and so so so so fun.

Is FOMO (fear of missing out) so prevalent nowadays that nobody can commit? Or do people just fucking suck? I had a friend once say to me, "Well, I'm a maybe on that event because something else might come up I'd rather go to." (Spoiler: WE ARE NO LONGER FRIENDS.)

Maybe this is because I'm in Seattle, which is notooooorious for the "Yeah, let's get a drink sometime!" attitude but never actually following through. I have also flaked on stuff. (But 9/10 times I had legit reasons.)

Something I've tried to do is say, "yes" to pretty much any invitation people are throwing at me. (Hint, it's not many.) There is nothing sadder to me than someone putting forth all the energy to plan something and have nobody show up. It upsets me. I sometimes drive to these things thinking, "UGH I'M NOT GOING TO HAVE FUN AND I HATE EVERYTHING." But guess what? I always have fun. I almost never regret going.

What can we do to fix this. Maybe people just don't give a shit, and that'll never change. Maybe they just don't give a shit about me, which isn't unexpected.

I'm not pretending I care about everyone. Let's not get crazy. But my friends mean the world to me, and I can only hope I mean the same to them.

Anyway. This has just been driving me crazy. I may just be bitter because I have no friends. Eh, whateves. Real friends make the effort, and they're worth it. They're just hard to find. (hint hint I'm one of them. Hi. I'm awesome.)