F*ck I'm Old!

As I reach for my ID to give to the doorman, I hear, "No ma'am you're all set."  

More on that later... I realized the other day that I am old and have been old for at least 2 years. I don't want to go out 2 nights in a row, I don't want to go out at all.  Its like there is a glimmer of this person I was 5 years ago and on Wednesday I'll text my girls be like, "We goin' out tonight because I be bangin'!" and then the excitement fades by Friday at 5pm because the week was hard, I'm tired, and... I'm old.

By the way, I would never say the quoted text above unless I was an extra on Playing House, or super drunk following a viewing of an episode of Playing House at my bff's house.

Here is why I cannot go out 2 nights in a row... when I get a hangover, here is what I say when I show up to work the next day:

Although, no one at work would think this was strange since the only people I drink with anymore are my coworkers.  There is nothing wrong with this, in fact I like my coworkers a lot so it's fun since we all have so much in common and routinely, accidentally call the office "home" so I guess if work is my home, the bar downstairs is our kitchen?

However, because of the commute and the sometimes longer workday than some of my friends, I am not always able to do the things they do together. I sometimes feel so out of the loop with my actual personal life because of the time spend on my work personal life, work professional life, and work social media life, that I feel like I am the butt of an inside joke I'm not a part of when I see my friends and family.

Spoiler alert... SHE is Monster Mash... rough.

So when I got the opportunity to see my friend who lives in another country for a surprise bachelorette (by the way, a word I can NEVER spell correctly, even sometimes with spell check) I thought, perfect! I can connect with some friends I haven't seen in a while and go to a game.

That part was fun, except for sweating my face, boobs, and ass off in the blistering sun.  But the seats were good and the lemonade was cold.  I skedaddled to get my train following the game but missed it by 1 minute after getting caught in the middle of recent crime scene on Dartmouth street. No biggie.  By the time I realized it, I sort of walked around in a circle like an idiot trying to think of what to do.

So I texted my pal Courtney who works in the area to say hi...

Unfortunately, she was caught up with actual work things and since normally I don't see daylight that early on a Thursday, I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't have my Kindle or an actual book, and my phone was dying, of course.  The two closest places to Back Bay station are bars...The Brownstone and Clerys.  So I chose to visit my youth at Clery's.

To get back to beginning of this post... there was a doorman.  I was thinking, why is there a doorman at 7pm on a weeknight?  Then i realized I was an idiot and this place was already packed and would only grow in numbers in the coming hours.  I know the drill, I've been to few bars in my day, so I pulled out my ID.  Or rather, I attempted to pull it out of my big wallet in my even bigger bag and as I go to give it to him, he dismisses me.  What's worse, he dismisses me after looking at me.  I would hope to think OK, well, I look like a legitimate non under age person, but then he called me ma'am.

Ma'am??? I have a few months left of my 20's cut me a fucking break brosef!

Besides, its not like I wanted to go party with the young financiers and interns!

I just wanted to charge my phone and have a glass of chardonnay like any other self respecting working gal.  I saddled up to the bar to do just that after being too old looking to warrant even a pity ID check and order me a cold one... cold wine.  It is after my first sip that I realize, I am literally the oldest person at the bar.  There are a few people my age or even a year or two older sitting in the far back section at tables, in chairs, eating appetizers like civilized people.

When did this happen?!  I'm pretty sure the guys next to me ordering shandies and fireball shots thought I was a narc. There were a few warning signs of my oldness:  I only own flat shoes now. I listen to NPR.  I pay my bills on time, usually. I never wear a full face of makeup anymore unless I'm going somewhere that requires me to give out my business card or sit at a table with assigned seating and awkward centerpieces.  I knew it was inevitable but I tried to fight it off. 

I like to be optimistic.  Scratch that, I like to tell people I am optimistic but I'm mostly doom and gloom internally.  It's like 70% doom, 20% gloom, and 10% puppies inside this noggin. - what can I say, I'm a worriers. However, operating under the guise that I am a glass half full girl, who knows, maybe my 30's will be good for me?   Maybe I'll take better care of myself, contribute more to my 401K , go to the dentist more often, and stop talking to myself in public.  

I mean I don't have much to even write about anymore.  I used to be so much more exciting, half the stuff I did I couldn't even write about.  No more Todd Tisdales, J.J. Foley's, roof decks with strangers, make outs with even more strangers on a dance floor in Barcelona (although I will say Philly seems to be very good to me in the mens department as of late).  I think the realization of this change is sort of a reoccurring theme in any self examination I take time for.

I want to elaborate on the old factor... 29 isn't old in years, I'm not a fucking myopic, self-centered idiot, I just mean my personality is old now and the age is seeping out of my pores. I will say, there are some great things about feeling older too:

• I say 'vagina' a lot and think everyone just needs to get over it and say it too
• I get to be the boss sometimes 
• Thinking about retirement at 29 isn't the most fun but at least you know there will be an end to working and each year older, is a year closer to parking your old ass on the beach in Boca with a mai tai in hand.
• I get to call people younger than me 'hooligans'
• I'm very close to shaking my fist at someone and making a 'harrumph' noise - and who doesn't love that!
• I have always enjoyed matinees and now it's even more fun for me because hooligans don't go at that time.

So I think I am actually partially OK with my oldness.  I just need to have more fun doing this decade, but responsible fun, it's a thing.  My new goal this next decade: I just want the dream, being great at work, relationships, family, and befriending every dog in the state.

Besides, things may change and some friends may drift away, and the things you did with them are just memories... there are great friends who you'll always have and great times you don't yet know about that will knock you on your ass no matter how old you are.

Show and Tell... nothing

One thing I've learned from online dating is that everyone is "laid back" and "easy- going" and they have a plethora of hobbies like surfing, golfing, volunteering, tough mudders... and the like.  You know what I've learned about my hobbies from online dating?  I have none.  Also, I am neither "laid back" nor "easy going" I'm intense, passionate, driven, and organized.  In fact, the only time I am easy going is when I'm traveling and typically, that's somewhere with a historical, fact filled journey with 14th century castles and old really tough bread, like when you're not sure if it's hardy or just lint filled... now that's my idea of a good time!

                              

I won't lie... well I will, sometimes because it's fun. However, I will say, ever since I was little when schools would hold show and tell, I always felt a pang of anxiety... hobbies, skills... I don't have those.  A 7-year old with palms wringing, furrowed brow, I mean, "What do you want from me?!"  I wish I liked things, truly I do, but in reality I love useless facts, delicious things, laughing really hard, locating dogs who want to be my friends, shiny objects, daytime drinking, and chatting up strangers. So, the important things.

                         

Oh, sad for you Mr. Darcy... so tell me about your childhood, were you a popsicle or fudgesicle type of kid?


So, after careful observation, one might say that my key audience are those overly educated, fancy types, who like to throw in a loose cannon for entertainment purposes for their cava fueled yacht outings.  I mean if Bravo wants to sell that show, I'll be the first sad sack waiting in line to sign up. 



                               
I guess there are benefits to being a sponge and only taking in so many things, I mean I am good at pub trivia, I read a lot, I can talk to anyone... but I still have hobby envy.  What are your hobbies? Are you a sommelier, a cheese aficionado, a 17th century French literature lover or Baroque art admirer... or  can you run really fast... like super fast and maybe jump over some shit?  Nice, I mean nice dude.


                                               

Maybe on my next date I should just make up a bunch of hobbies and learn to love them. However, I hope one day I will meet the right guy who thinks my dvr-ing of The Kardashians, and Real Housewives marathons are endearing, and thinks my overly analytic, sometimes tangent travelling, mind, with distractions ranging from dogs to sparklies...  interesting.  But, alas, it has yet to be.  I mean I totally respect people's preferences for a partner who shares their activities.

Well, that's not entirely true, I don't wait in lines, standing in queue is ridiculous one percent meets bourgeois nonsense, although I do look better standing up rather than sitting, but I would ask someone to hold my place, I would totally do that.  Beyond potential Bravo-lebrity what is my draw? I wish I was someone who could master a skill set and run with it.  Instead, I know very little about many things. I do know that I am smart, fun, and obviously, humble.

                            

And at the end of the day, I want what every girl wants, for her man to say those few words that sets hearts a flutter...

If I need to start doing... things - I'll do it, I swear, I am that committed.  Just no skiing, or running, or bungee jumping, or triathlons... but you know, I'm flexible.

I Swear I Lived

Hi Kittens, it's been a while.

I want to preface this with, I love my job.  I love feeling needed and integral and having responsible and all that jazz.   However, I swear to God, 2 minutes ago I was 25 and now I'm going to be 30... in 10.5 months, but still.  I feel like the past 2 years have gone  by in a breath and the person I was got lost in the drama of a job search and the first 10 months of a new career.  I had to learn how to do so many things differently and learn some things that were completely foreign to me.  Somewhere along the past 18 months or so, I lost who I was when trying to find who the new me is.




Sounds confusing right, well it is!  I love Pinterest, but I do it for work now so I never do it for myself anymore.  I love writing, but I get to do a lot of it for work, so I don't do it anymore.  I love being social, but I'm social and talk to people via email, phone, in person, alllll. day. long. so when I come home I just want to be silent.

I need to make time for me.  I also need to learn that some of the ways I lived before are not going to work now because I do have a job I love that requires my focus. I need to be less lazy in my personal life so that I don't end up being my own worst enemy, not to mention what if I choke on a Triscuit and Josie eats my body.

I don't go out enough so I don't meet new people, not just gentleman callers, but people, in general.  I spend so many hours with my coworkers, and I love them, but then I go home and see mum and Josie.  I need to interact with people other than the sometimes overly needy community that I work with and my coworkers.  I need to disengage and re-engage.

With guys, I used to wait around for men to ask me out because I could never tell if a guy was interested, note to men of the world, if you want to ask me out, ask me out, because I am probably oblivious to you being interested.   I'm probably thinking about some sort of community relations nightmare or bizarre medical condition.  Just, ask me out - I need to get out!




Dani needs to have a good time, get her shit together but also lose herself in the moment.  I used to be someone, a flash, a light, I had an aura.  I swear I lived! Like really lived, did things, traveled places, met people.  It was grand and unbelievable.  I grew up.  I'm still a hot mess, but with less stories.



I know things change, and that's cool, but there are some things I am not willing to give up. Experiences mean more to me than anything else.  There have been times when people I were with, travelling, just out and about, wherever, who were unable to see the forest through the trees.  I feel sad for them, to not be able to live in the moment, to not smell, hear, breathe, touch those elements that make up that experience.  I want to relive all those moments, good, bad scary, lovely and make new ones.  So for now, I'm going to push myself and make my own memories, vivid and robust so I don't become a memory.  I'm 29, not 99.

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  • So let's do it

If This Were A Romantic Comedy…

I went out on a Saturday night for the first time in about 4 months.  It was pretty exciting.  I got half dressed.  Well I was completely covered but the thing is… I showered, shaved, did my hair, makeup and then got a cute top on.  All the while I had leggings and flip flops on while I undertook this ritual… well not for the showering bit, for that I was in the nude… scandalous.  So I get my top on and then I sort of thought, well I am ever so comfortable, well I didn't think exactly that because my interior monologue doesn't have an odd British child’s way of saying things, but you get the drift.  SO I just decided to say in said leggings and flip flops.  It was, from the waist down,  sort of a mullet of clothing one might say. 

I’m not really defending myself.  I think it’s terrible.  Besides my wonderful posterior, I really have no redeeming argument for wearing leggings, at 28, at a very nice bar.  Except for that it was either stay short and comfortable, frolicking heel-less throughout Davis Square, or wear nice bottoms that are not the most comfy and heels that I would start complaining about within 2 hours.  SO there’s that, but that wasn’t really my point…

Ok so the first part of this post is really pointless.  Let’s pretend that it lays the foundation with some colorful commentary for the real point at hand: my continuing insane, ridiculous dating life which has been on hold since May.  So the point I guess, is that I think I may have been entertaining the idea that things might just work out in some laughable way that makes little sense, but is for the best in the end.  But think about it.  When does the exact opposite of what should, or is likely to happen, happens and then is in fact the reality that should have existed this whole time?  Never, never ever.  Because this only happens in the movies where Hugh Grant plays a perpetual 37 year old bachelor struggling to gain a grasp on commitment and responsibility and then realizes at the most inopportune time that he is in fact in love with some daft cow (again British here) and runs to tell her how he feels.

The harsh, bad lighting reality of life is that Hugh Grant is in fact in his 50s and siring half Asian babies with a woman he isn’t actually with, and that his actual persona is not at all dissimilar from the limp haired fool he plays in the movies.  That’s the bitch of it all isn’t it?  Even the fucking actors in the orm coms can’t get the romantic, last ditch, light bulb moment, realization type love in their real lives.  They’re at home eating bad Thai food and watching re-runs of Friends too!

I was talking with my friend Alli, joking about things as we do and I may take things farther than they need be taken, and I said we shouldn’t joke about any scenario because what if that scenario happens, because if life were some Nicholas Sparks romantic love fest, I would be in a completely different situation.  I would also be some chick with small town roots trying to out run my past but end up running into the arms of the man I never expected find… I just literally bull shitted that but how many people would eat that up?

However, I am not some small town girl, and I’m not looking for someone’s arms to run into, mostly because I find that premise a little paternalistic and thus kind of creepy, but it would be nice to have a little more romance in the comedy that is my life.  I do believe that everything happens for a reason, but I am oblivious and would need Channing Tatum or Ryan Gosling to throw down first, because as we know, I cannot take a hint.  Plus I also feel like I would need a lot less subtle Danny Elfman musical vignettes to bring the underlying feelings to the surface if Ryan Gosling was all, “Hey girl” to me.

I also cannot attempt any bad Match.com dates.  I just want to eat sharp cheddar, drink dry Rose, go for walks in the woods, talk to dogs, and have some guy to debrief all of that with.  Not really much to ask for.  Also, instead musing it up here, I should be working now.  I always feel like I should be working because there is so much to do and it’s exciting and scary sometimes and really cool in general, but I need someone to distract me from it occasionally.  In return, I will bake you cookies and tell you where the Ark of the Covenant is so we could bond over an Indiana Jones’ style adventure… pretty sweet right!?

Anyway, Josephine and I are going to sign off for the night but we are going to make more of an effort when it comes to personal life type things because life isn’t a romantic comedy… and I am really not that confident when it comes to Josie’s ability to fight off a pack of hungry cats from eating me alive in my spinsterhood.  #rationalfears

Sometimes All I Need Is The Air That I Breathe And...

If those lyrics from The Hollies don't welcome you back with open arms I don't know what will.  It turns out, getting the job of your dreams also means you have no time for anything else... SHOCK.  Anyway, I have always said, be the happiness in the life you seek, if you're not happy... do SOMETHING about it!  Now I have the job, even though its kicking my ass, and all I need is everything else... so lets get on that.

Update:

I am in love.  She's four legged and covered in spots... my puppy Josephine.  She makes me giddy for no reason and since getting her, its like the first time I've been really happy for no reason during the day, just because, since the shitastic year of 2011.

Josephine at work.

 Update:
I've wiped the slate clean of men.  While the haunting biological clock and overwhelming thud of the realization that a life alone, where my existence is snuffed out unceremoniously by a pack of wild dogs devouring my body, is imminent... I'm still being pretty optimistic.

Besides, I want to live a meaningful life, one with impact and purpose, not necessarily perfect.  A perfect life, to me, is one one of stress and fury, not one of passion and depth.  Someone once called me shallow and I stand by my retort, "I may be vain, but I am not shallow."  What is that saying?  These rivers run deep.

On this father's day, the second since my dad has gone I have to laugh a little to myself because one of the things that my dad had the most trouble understanding about me was in fact my sensitivity, passion, soul.  He loved those things, I'm sure, along with my silliness and love of animals, and all things impractical.  But your parents don't need to tell you those things, or rather they think its more prudent to tell you the things you need to work on so you can in fact survive and fend for yourself, you know, things of minor importance.

I'll never stop being silly, I saw a dog in Sephora this weekend and i nearly lost my shit, but I have learned to be slightly more practical... besides being things I don't need at Sephora and not so conspicuously following a 90lb German Shepard around a store.

I went to a fun wedding last night, danced the night away and loved every minute of it. I stopped every so often to relish a little bit of life, you only get so many of those nights right?  I don't want to waste them.  Not to sound like some lazy hippy, but take a minute and breathe it in, its pretty sweet right?

As far as love goes and the other 920 nights left in my journey of Bostonian Nights... I don't know, I've never been one to want to know the end of the story before I've even hit the middle, but I'll keep you posted.

                                             

Good News... I've climbed out of the pit of despair and onto easy street!

So I finally got a new job and not just anyone job, MY DREAM JOB!!!! I'm beyond excited.  Additionally, I am currently dog hunting, not like hunting so much as like searching for one.  New job, encourages you to bring your dog to work ITS AMAZING.

I think these gifs can accurately describe the last 2 months.  Mostly re-posted with new captions from How Do I Put This Gently

Some people look for  a new job while they still have one, others are forced to because their company doesn't have monies.  Upon hearing this you may react accordingly:


Try to remember not to take out your frustration from the job search on those you love:


A little of this as well:

 
You may start to think that you a. have no marketable skills and b. have accomplished nothing at your current place of work... this is a sympton of the over educated, underpaid quarter life crisis


You're a little bitter:


But don't worry, or do... a little



Besides, lately work has felt like this:

First my advice to job seekers is not to settle but remember:

But pretty is important

Remember when interviewing that you should make good eye contact with your interviewer:


Make sure they know you are interested:


Show them your skills:

 
And if youre like me, they will offer you the job!
So youre understandably excited, but you keep your reaction tasteful:

Maybe you happy cry a little, at your current work:


Oh and they tell you that once you get your new dog, you're welcome to bring it to work:


I did not need to take any minutes to consider the offer and immediately accept and then turned to my coworkers and said:







I cannot wait to show off my manners to my new coworkers:


First we would need to celebrate the end of 5 years of 50% bitter 50% sweet memories [scale 50% bitter = to 100%] with my old co-workers


 
Thanks to the universe and to myself (and maybe other people)for being so awesome:

Irrational Anger

So here is a little story about common decency.  I do not care if you are dating multiple people at once and are open and honest about it. But if you omit the shit out of what you're doing, making it seem that you are busy with work when you are in fact rekindling the relationship with your ex, please, go fuck yourself.

Dani, you didn't know I was planning on making my relationship official on NYE 3 weeks after our last planned date? Oh silly you.  Especially when I just stopped returning your calls after 3 months of hanging out.
                                        

This is what makes girls look and act crazy.  I don't give a shit about what you do when we're both single and dating but don't drop off the fucking earth like a sketch ball just to hide the fact that you're in a relationship. We're facebook friends FOOL! Your doing by the way, not mine, because I don't like to look into people's business. Egg on my face though, shoulda been a stalker so I didn't get a lovely newsfeed shocker to the face today.
       

Le sigh.

Moral of the story, be a regular person, respond to me text or call or whatever and say hey I'm actually thinking of starting something serious with someone else, heads up.  But good luck.  Thank you mystery dude, for both your decent manners and well wishes. Same to you.

That, ladies and gentlemen is how normal adults act.  I wasn't even serious about the whole thing until I felt like an idiot.  Note to mens, Dani doesn't like feeling like a child (yes I am making a link to "child" and "idiot" lezbehonest) unless you're taking her to the zoo, aquarium or pet store (notice a trend).

So this is irrational anger because like I said, nothing was serious and yet still, this is my reaction:


I'll be the last gal to try to lay claim, I just feel misinformed and I do not like it.  MOVING ON.

bachelor spot open


The End