Let's talk Dee-ver-seh-TEEEEEE

Hello my darlings,

I figured that you were all growing tired of my nonsense, so I decided maybe I should take a little hiatus.  Then recently I've had a number of people comment about not getting coffee and a couple even said they actually missed it.  I figured if people are willing to reach out to tell me that they miss this crap I should probably put my happy butt in a chair and write some shit down.  Here it goes....

While the train really is such an amazing source of coffee fodder I've decided to take this coffee a little closer to home.  Yep, once again I am going to rant about my apartment.  Why, you ask, am I complaining about my charming little apartment that I adore.  Well, I'm not going to complain about MY apartment, I am once again going to lament about the the overly-entitled, punk-ass kids that live in my apartment building.   Sort of.... In reality, this is a fairly magnanimous rant about myself.  Confused?  Keep reading......

The inspiration for this cuppa crazy stemmed from a conversation with a friend about a "family meeting" that her sister insisted on to decide which custom couch should be purchased to furnish the Downtown Denver studio apartment of her 25-year old son.  (just to clarify sister's son, friends nephew.  The pronoun is not clear, but I was too lazy to figure out a way restructure the sentence without pronouns.)  I assume, you, like me, are thinking, WTF!  Or perhaps you are still focusing on how completely bat-shit crazy it is to conceive of this decision requiring a "family meeting."   I think family meetings should be reserved for conversations like "Bobby Jim knocked cousin Carolyn up, again and we need to figure out who's going to pay for the abortion this time" (love you NaNet, but you did grow up in Alabama, so I couldn't resist)  Now I realize you are probably on the edge of your seat wondering of all the possible choices, which custom couch they picked, but I have no idea, nor do I have any f*cks to give about the couch that they picked.  I use this allegory to highlight a comment made by one very astute teenage girl that the whole notion of picking a custom couch sounded like "privileged white people problems"  

Personally, I find the phrase "privileged white people problems" or PWPP as it will from here out be called, very entertaining, because, seriously, have you heard of the Kardashians, but I digress.  After hearing about the PWPP comment then overhearing (OK, fine eavesdropping) a conversation between two young, bikini-clad babes returning from a very taxing afternoon of frittering away time by the pool.  Pink bikini babe was whining to white bikini, less cute face, but much better body babe, about her complete jerk of a dad that is no longer making her car payment.  It was at that very moment that I realized that it is very possibly that I now live in the epicenter of PWPP.  This revelation heightened my awareness and observation skills (read: judgemental bitch) and I realized that while there is every color, shape and size of diversity across the street (OK at the skate park, the construction zone a  little less so, though certainly not a lot of PWPP going on there, if you catch my drift.  wink wink.)   Now after nearly a week of close observation and 4+months of living in this building I realized that about the only thing here that could even pass as ethnic diversity was demonstrated by the very bronze, bikini wearing babes standing by the elevator.  

Somehow, I'm not really sure ethnic diversity was intended to be measured in direct proportion to the type and factor of sunscreen selected when lounging by the pool.  Though the Tesla, three Porsches, and I've lost count of the number of Audi's may have also been an indication.  Regardless, I consider myself very fortunate that I am able to live in a lovely building, with great security and wonderful amenities.   Where I am free to complain about the smell of dog urine by the elevator and chinese food containers left in the hallway.  I also realize this pretty much makes me the epitome of a Privileged White Person complaining about Privileged White People Problems.  For that I feel truly BLESSED!  

Until next time...

XOXO

PS - I FINALLY got the last of Ray's Fidelity accounts transferred to me.  Now I just have to figure out how to manage all of the money in all of the accounts in all of the different places.  

PPS - I also received another bill from DirecTV, this one for $14.31, I'm still refusing to pay it.  

PPPS - Verizon seems to be working pretty well, so I guess I should take them off my hate list.  

PPPS - that is ALL of the PWPP problems I think I have to complain about right now. 

PPPPS - OK, my boss is really annoying the crap out of me too, but this is a temporary gig and I have wine, so I can deal with that.  

Comic Come-on......

Hello my darlings,

For any of your who actually enjoy the kind of events where you are expected to wear some outlandish (or slutty) costume and don copious amounts of makeup you probably won't enjoy this coffee, because, full disclosure:  I HATE THAT SHIT!  I am not kidding - I absolutely despise it!  I stopped dressing up for, and trick-or-treating when I was in the third grade because I hated it even then.  The whole idea of wearing a stupid costume is appalling and ridiculous to me, so it probably won't be a surprise that sharing the light rail with a few dozen costume-clad Comic Con attendees was pretty much my version of hell.  

This week has been a very introspective week for me.  I've lamented to several of you that while I am enjoying working and love having something to focus on, I really wish I could have done something part time.  As a result of my introspection, and the fact that my boss is on vacation, I've decided to modify my schedule to only work half-days on, every Friday.   As a result of this new found freedom (and the fact that I am only supposed to bill 40-hours per week) I decided to pack up my laptop and head to the train shortly after noon today.  It was rather shocking when I got to the Dry Creek Light Rail Station (possibly the most Wonder-Bread section in all of Denver) and encountered a giant man (not kidding this dude was probably 7-feet tall) dressed like a rabbit (ala Alice in Wonderland).   One extremely rotund man dressed in very ill-fitted tuxedo pant with a black and red vest, white make-up and a top hat (I have no clue who he was supposed to be, but he looked like a creepy, Joker-esque sausage stuffed into a tuxedo he wore to his prom in 1983) and one portly woman in a fishnet bodysuit, prouding displaying her bulging bosoms in red bra and very tight, short, black shorts, oh and a cape.  Thank god for the cape!  NOTE: that statistic about 60% of women wearing the wrong size bra... she definitely is part of that statistic.  Both band and cup were wrong - VERY WRONG!  When the train arrived I quickly stepped forward to the next car and all was right with the world, until we got to the next stop.....

At that stop two men boarded the train car that I was in looking very much like Pimps.  Pimp Daddy (not to be confused with Pimp Chaddy - WOOT WOOT Pimp Chaddy!) was dressed in yellow pants and a black and yellow shirt with a purple velvet jacket flung across his shoulder.  The other, who I will assume was Pimp Daddy's driver/bouncer/bodyguard sported all black with white shoes, a white tie and a red fedora.  He also had three gold teeth, I know weird, right?  HA!  I assumed they were going to Comic Con, but they did get off the train much earlier than the other, very obvious Comic Con attendees, so I can't be certain.

A couple more stops into my costume from hell journey and a dude that looked like Weird Al Jankovic and a homely girl with bad skin and way too much silver eyeliner got on the train and sat directly in front of me.  YAY!  Clearly today was my lucky day....  I'm pretty sure they weren't dressed up for Comic Con, I think they just look that way all the time.   It's possible that they even thought they looked "cute" for whatever it is they were doing. The strange thing, OK there were several things, but the one that really got me was that Weird Al had this curious thing about counting how many people boarded at each stop and his pimp-faced girl just sat beside him staring at the side of his head and his creepy, long,oily, curly hair.  Seriously, it was sooooooooooooo strange!  Thanks to miscreant Al's mad counting skills he was able to inform everyone in our train car that "FIVE people boarded at this stop."  Lucky for all of YOU, all five of THEM were in costumes.  

In case you were curious here's what was happening in my head during this whole exchange.  Uhhhmmmm, yeah, uh, sooooo the thing is, I have eyes and I can see that, sooooo I don't actually need the play by play of how many damn people get on the train...   You will all be proud to know that I managed to keep all of that from escaping my piehole.  The look on my face was probably evident to a keen observer (which these two definitely were not) but no words fell out my yapper.  Yay me!  Yay discretion!

Those five were my least favorite of all of the characters I'd witnessed.  OK, the three men were fine, but this was clearly an excuse for the dumb bitches to dress like sluts and call it a costume.  (Full disclosure this is my primary reason for hating all things costume and for that matter, all things Kardashian, but I digress...) Too bad I didn't think to introduce them to the pimps before the Broadway stop......

One dude had some all black, combat looking costume and infra-red goggles that he apparently couldn't actually see through sitting atop his head.  Costume-clad boy number two looked like some sort of 80's rocker (ala David Bowie) with lots of eyeliner and gray-hairspray (which looked like it might have been some crazy-ass hair-in-can spray) he had a gray and yellow pleather jacket.  I have no clue who or what he was trying to be, but it was very 80's and not knowing what you were trying to be was probably true of a lot of things from the 80's.  Overall, it was goofy and stupid, but really nothing terrible to complain about.  Genius number three looked like he fast-forwarded to the 90's so he could dress up like a goth dude wearing all black, including full-length trench coat, eyeliner lipstick and beanie.  MEH - again, no clue who he was supposed to be or why he would chose to wear that many layers of extremely warm clothing in the dead of summer, but frankly I was happy that we was clothed. 

Ho-bag #1 was wearing what looked to be a spiderman onesie.  When I say onesie, I'm not talking about those destable rompers that I hate so much, I mean like the kind (and size) you put on an infant!  I suppose technically it was a Spiderman Bodysuit, but that begs the question of WHY was there a need to manufacture a Spiderman bodysuit for a 30-year old woman?  Anyway, she wore the onesie with a little black skirt that was so tight and so short it could almost pass for a belt paired with over the knee boots.  Please don't think this is me fat-shaming anyone, after all I have eye and mirrors, so I certainly don't have any room for that nonsense.   She was a pretty girl with a nice body.  It's just sad that she opted to look so trashy.  She would have looked so much nicer with a little bit more, properly fitting clothing.  Her friend appeared to be harkening a sluttly Betty Rubble.  She wore a super-tight, super-short black dress with cutouts all along each side and the highest platform stilettos that I've witnessed since I worked for that trashy hag Cindy C.  

I am always happy when the train arrives back at Union Station and I can return to the adorableness of my fabulous, little downtown apartment.  Now I am going to head over to Denver Beer Company to enjoy a fabulous beverage (or two, maybe three) then grab Proto's pizza (it's delicious) and retreat to my wonderful, costume free apartment for the evening.

Until next time...

XOXO

PS - I'm already working on an independence day coffee, which will once again feature shit I hear and see on the train because... Well, because it's a petri-dish of coffee fodder and of a whole lot of other things......

Yay Spelling!

Hello my darlings,

I had a very exciting encounter this evening that I had to share.  After a long day at work it was nearly 6:30 when my train got back to Union Station.  Much to my surprise, as I walked off the train my eardrums were accosted by a gaggle of teenage girls wearing bright white t-shirts, very small, very tight black shorts and multi-colored bows tying back they adorably coiffed ponytails, It didn't take long to realize that these perky, young'uns were fresh out of cheer camp.  They were a huddled mass of giggling, giddiness eager to impress one another with their cheer moves and chants.  I wasn't really trying to understand what they were saying, but then something grabbed my attention.  The ringleader, a very tall, thin, cute blonde, wearing far too much makeup for a 90 degree day, did some cheer kick - arm-pump thing and exclaimed 'Go Jesus!"  HUH!  Wait, did I really hear that?  Then the girl next to her, not nearly as cute and trying way too hard, giggled then started a spelling chant - J-E SUS, J-E-SUS.  Golly - Cheer girls sure are good spellers.....  They bounded, giggled and high-kicked along in front of me until the commuter gods smiled down on me and I reached my favorite little foot bridge that leads me home.    

I know I shouldn't make fun.  It's great that these girls are engaged in something positive and not hanging out under my favorite foot bridge, with the other deadbeats, swilling Boones-farm and smoking god know what.  But that was a little too much happy and a lot too much Jesus for a Monday.  

I did consider for a minute about informing them that everyone know Jesus is was more of a Dance team guy than a cheer guy, because no one cheers in sandals.....  Ironically enough, I decided to act like a grown-up and keep my snarky comment in my head.  Or at least in my head, until I had time to run to grocery store, grab some dinner and come pour it into a cuppa this crazy to share it with all of you.  You're Welcome!

Until next time.....

XOXO

Peeves and Pets -- OK, mostly just peeves...

Hello my lovelies,

It's the end of a long week.  After nearly six months out of the corporate world, (though to be fair, I did accomplish one hell of a lot during those six months) working full time again is a lot harder than I remember it being.  By Friday afternoon I am mentally and physically exhausted.  Lucky for all of you I have a few little nuisances in my world and you all know how I love ranting about things that piss me off.  Here are just a few of the things in the last couple weeks that have irritated, annoyed, frustrated or generally made me roll my eyes and declare "what the hell..."

1. Saying "Sorry" where "excuse me" is the appropriate response.  You don't have to be sorry that you were walking into the bathroom at the same time as me.  Just say excuse me and keep moving.  
2. Not saying "excuse me" when you've clearly invaded my personal space.  This is directed to the jackwad wearing shorts and grampa loafers on light rail that smacked me in the face when he flung his backpack over his shoulder.  Seriously, he had to feel that backpack hit me, but the asshat didn't even stop to look back.  Oh well, I know in the end he's going to get his, or more likely not... (wink wink)  The shoes he was wearing were hideous!  Apparently, on casual Friday at his company people are allowed to wear shorts.  UGH, that's a terrible idea based on so many of my fashion rules, but fine whatever, I don't work there, so that's not my problem.  However, if are going to wear shorts you need to get some appropriate footwear to pair with shorts.  You could get some Vans, maybe a Converse, even a more sporty looking Keen shoe would possibly work.  There are any number of manufacturers that make shoes that work well with shorts and are still office appropriate.  This assclown's footwear looked like he mugged a damn senior citizen on his way to the train.  Pfft - good luck with the ladies at the bar tonight in those shoes.  He's sooooo going home alone!
3. While on the subject, it's important to state that Casual Friday, does NOT mean dress like a pig day! You all know how fussy I am about how people dress in general.  Well, I can tell you that I am truly appalled at some of the crap that people wear to the office.  My office has a fairly casual dress casual dress code, jeans aren't specifically allowed, but a lot of people wear them fairly regularly and no one says much.  Somehow even with that relaxed standard people are under the impression that the jeans and t-shirt that you might typically wear to mow the lawn is perfectly appropriate in the office on Friday.  Today, there was a woman in my office wearing very tight jeans and a very small tank top, covering (barely) her not small mid-section.  If that wasn't enough, this fashion genius paired the ensemble with dirty, grungy high-top tennis shoes and hot pink socks.  The ill-fitting clothes and hideous shoes were bad enough, then I realized that the front of the tank top read "THIS IS MY GYM BODY!"  WTF?  I don't know what that means.  I am not faulting a girl for having a whole lot of junk in the trunk and plenty of fluff in the middle, but that body wearing that T-shirt in that size?  My first thought was,  "uh, right, cause you only have ONE body, dumbass."  My second thought was, "oh lord, that gym hates you for representing their shit this way..."   I really think maybe I should start a mobile fashion service.  It will be like a boutique truck meets What Not To Wear, meets Fashion Police.  I will just drag these hideous women in, hold them captive until they put on some decent fitting clothes and appropriate, yet adorable, footwear, then I will release them back into public.   SIDENOTE:  I officially have groupies at my office.  There is a group of three women that come by my desk every day to see what I'm wearing and what fabulous shoes I have on, because they love how I dress.  Ha!  How's that for street cred!
4. Uttering the words "Good, good, good" in response to every answered question.  The guy that sits over the wall from me is an application developer that's been at the company 20+ years.  People come to him fairly frequently and pretty much any time he answers a question even remotely satisfactorily he says, "OK then, good, good, good!" It sounds like "OooooK then (long pause) good. good. good."  I am seriously concerned that my eye sockets may sustain permanent damage from rolling my eyes every, f*ing time I hear him say it.   Wait!  Do you think that would qualify for workmans comp?  Flo, as my favorite attorney of all time and with some of the stories you've shared, I think this might be pretty darn legit!  Right!  Right? Maybe? OK, probably not....
5. Really loud whispering. Full disclosure - the really loud whisperer that is annoying me this week recently had surgery on her vocal cords, so she doesn't have any other option, I mean except, you know, writing... I sooooooo wish she would take up writing, or, you know, SHUT THE F UP! 
6. Whistling!  I HATE THAT SOUND! Enough said!  
7. Applying makeup on the train or in the car.  Now ladies reapplying lipstick or checking your makeup before you walk in some place is totally acceptable.  Busting out a full makeup bag and applying foundation and blush and concealer and eye-shadow and eye-liner and mascara and lipstick is ridiculous.  The train is not your bathroom, bitch!  Full disclosure, this woman started this whole daily makeup routine by curling her eyelashes with a spoon on a moving train.  Seriously, she puts a kitchen spoon between her lashes and her finger and curls her lashes, sort of.  It's the craziest thing I've ever seen and the fact that she's doing it on a moving train is completely wackado in my book.  I don't even use an eyelash curler because just the act of moving that contraption toward my eye terrifies me when I'm standing still.  To attempt to do something like that in a moving vehicle.... Hmmm, maybe she wants to be a Pirate when she grows up.  

I think the Fidelity nonsense is finally nearing an end.  I received an email earlier this week from Survivor Services stating that they have completed the transfer of benefits to me and an account has been established under my social security number.  Sadly, the email is addressed to Rhonda..... MotherF*er if they finally got this shit done only to create the account with my name spelled wrong.........  I continue to check my mail every day to see what name is on the new account they've created.  More to come......

Until next time,

XOXO

PS - This afternoon I encountered Ms. Shay's doppelganger!  OK, maybe not doppelganger, because the new Shay is much smaller, but she is a black woman with a Southern drawl, and she does have very bleached hair and she was wearing a bright yellow shirt, yellow shoes, yellow eye-shadow and yellow lipstick.  Furthermore, she was sporting the trademark bluetooth headset around her neck just like Ms. Shay always wore.  I met her because I walked in the breakroom I heard her say something, but didn't understand what she said, so I politely inquired "excuse me?" (not SORRY) to which she replied, "Yeah, hold on a sec, someone axed me sumthin...."   I almost asked her right then and there if she wanted to go get some "Popeye's cheeckun"  

The dating game -- Choose your new adventure...

Hello my darlings,

It's been awhile since I sent one of these.  You've probably enjoyed the break from this nonsense, but just in case you found yourself craving a little Ronda-coffee, I'm here to satiate that craving!  You're WELCOME!

First, I've had a few people ask about Ray's dad, which made me realize I was negligent in closing that chapter with all of you.  Ray's day, my father-in-law, the old man, Ray, passed away on May 4.  He was 99-years old!  He was a WWII vet and for many years was a fascinating man.  Sadly, the last few he was crippled with dementia and the inability to get around.  Joyce was his entire world during these last few years.  Fortunately, I was able to spend some great time with her in the days before he passed.  Losing her only son and her husband within 5 months is tragedy no one should have to endure, but she seems to be doing surprisingly well.  She is now in Ohio with Al and Grace for a few months.  I'm sure I will have more fun stories when they return to Colorado in early to mid-July.  

Second, I got a job!  WAHOOOOOO!  Having so much time in my own head was a terrible thing, so I was delighted to take on a contract project leading an Office 365 upgrade at Pulte Mortgage.  I've been there 10 days and I LOVE IT!  My boss is great!  He pretty much leaves me alone and let me go do my thing.  It's nirvana!  I am the world's worst most nightmarish employee (I know several of you can testify to this) under a micro-managing moron (aka Cindy for my IHS babes), but given the appropriate latitude I can accomplish some pretty great shit.  (I hope those of you chiming in before are also willing to attest to this) There will certainly be some challenges in getting this project delivered, but the team of people that I am working with is awesome and I am delighted to be back at work.  As of now the project is scheduled to wrap up in late September, so I have a few months of paychecks and some time to analyze what I want.  

You may be questioning if I am dating or ready to start dating and I can tell you unequivocally the answer is NO - I am NOT, nor do I want to be.  I haven't dated since the 90's!  (FWIW not actually exaggerating that -- Ray and I met in October 1998.)  So now you may be asking why, if I am adamant about not dating, have I created a post titled the dating game?  Well, turns out I have a number of single friends.  Some have been single for quite some time, some are newly single and a few are firmly in the category of "it's complicated!"  Regardless, they are single and at some level are attempting or have attempted to date.  Some of them have tried dating apps, a few have examined/considered dipping into the office pool and one, but only one, took advantage of a little known, buy-a-Honda-keep-the-salesman promotion!  That said, this is not about my singles babes or their Honda's, it's about ME and I got hit on!  I was shocked too, but it legit, happened! 

Now that I am working in the DTC I am enjoying the light rail commute experience.  At least most of the time, (Noted exception when Cubs are playing the Rockies) the trains are empty enough that I don't have anyone sitting beside me, so imagine my surprise when, on a relatively empty train I have a guy sit down in the seat facing me and attempt to strike up a conversation.  There was absolutely NOTHING about this guy that appealed to me in any way.  He was covered in tattoos, including at least one very prominent neck tattoo, featuring a mostly naked woman.  He wore a flat-billed cap that read "Cali" and he wore long, baggy shorts, down around his ass and white socks that came all the way up to his knees. As far as I am concerned everything about this clown was a colossal FAIL, in every category!   If the look wasn't enough (I promise, it should have been way more than enough) to deter my interest, he started  the conversation by telling me that he's single and new to Denver because he had to "hightail-it-out of El Paso to get away from my baby mama."  

WTF!  What in the coldest corner of hell makes this guy think that I was in his league.  I assure you I would never, under and circumstance, be attracted to anyone that wears baggy-ass shorts, socks up to his knees or a flat-billed cap.  Furthermore, I most certainly would not, ever be interested in, a douchehound ran away from his "baby mama!"   Frankly, the fact that he uttered the words "baby mama" would have been enough to send me packing even if he was mother-f*ing George Clooney.  He then went on to tell me that he is trying to get to the "job site" in Aurora for work, because the guy he usually "hitches a ride with" skipped out on work.  Hmmmmm, interesting. (insert eye-roll here)  If I used a three-strikes and you are out rule this guy would officially be up to about 25.  I'm not interested, EVER!  He then asks me if I am seeing anyone, to which I responded by saying, no and I'm not going to be seeing anyone for a very long time.  

Luckily, at this point one very high, homeless dude with a bike boarded the train.  I've never been happier with the distraction of the pot-wreaking, bummer talking loudly to himself.  That conversation was much more appealing than the baby-mama-yammering falling out the face of the jackwad in front of me.  Eventually, baby mama dude asked me for my number.  This is not a thing that happens to me, so I don't know how to handle this crap.  There was no way I was giving him my number, so I suggested that I take his number instead.  I pretended to type it into my phone and then, because the train gods were finally shining down on me, we arrived at the transfer stop where both the creeper and the bum got off the train.   

This whole experience made me realize that I need to prepare for the possibility that I might, actually decide to date at some point in the future.  Since I am girl that appreciates the value of a checklist, I thought I'd create a checklist of things I want/need in any future suitor.   

1. A JOB!  It's a non-negotiable that any guy I date, at any point in the future, have a job, or since I'm preparing for the reality it might be a long time before I date, a kick-ass pension/retirement income.  I do not intend to support anyone, so said "job" must include a decent salary. 
2. A car.  Preferably a newish car -- less than six years old.  Now I realize since I drive a 2005 Volvo wagon this might make me sound like a hypocrite, but seriously, it's not the first time that's happened in this cuppa crazy and it won't be the last.   It is important to note, that this car should NOT be a status symbol.  Sorry guys, but if you are driving a Ferrari I assume it's because you are compensating for being hung like a grasshopper, same for giant, jacked-up pickup truck.  My philosophy on this is "the bigger the truck the smaller the....."
3. Lodging commensurate to your income level.  I'm renting, so I am certainly not ruling someone out because he doesn't own a home.  That said, I need to make sure the man who eventually makes these panties drop isn't living in some ghetto shithole and I will require proof that he isn't currently and has not, lived in his mom's basement for at least 10-years.  A man who loves his mom is one thing, a manchild that can't/won't leave her house is another.  These ladybits are a No Manchild Zone!
4.  Looks -- I certainly know that I am NOT hot.  I am not looking for hot, but I want a man who takes care of himself, dresses well and takes the time to groom himself adequately.  Guys, no woman in the history of EVER, has uttered the phrase "that's one damn, sexy unibrow you got going on."   NEVER!  It's hasn't happened, it's not going to happen, get that shit fixed!  You're Welcome!
5. Clothes - I'm kind of a bitch here, of course we've already established that...  The ultra-trendy hipster look is definitely not my thing, but that look is preferable to the pants/shorts down around your ass with your underwear hanging out.  In the clothing category I have a few rules that MUST be followed.  
   1. Socks - Do not EVER wear white socks with dress shoes!  
   2. Sock continued.....  Do not EVER wear no-show athletic socks with dress shoes.  Dress shoes need dress socks - end of story!   FWIW - you totally score bonus points if you wear fun, funky dress socks.
   3. Socks, finale - do not EVER wear dress shoes without socks, that's just a stink factory waiting to happen and that look is beyond douchy!  Buy some damn dress / funky socks already!  FWIW -  I really do dig funky socks!  Such a sexy trend right now.  Guys, if you don't own any, BUY SOME!
   4. Ties - I think ties are sexy!  I am a sucker for the tie, sportcoat and jeans look!  You pair that with dress shoes and funky socks and I might be willing to do all sorts of unmentionable things!  That said, ties don't look comfortable and certainly don't be worn every day.  Most importantly, ties must never be worn with short sleeves.  EVER!  I was downtown with a friend after the Kentucky Derby and I saw hoards of hipster boys wearing ties (and bowties) with short-sleeved shirts.  Unless you a Mormon missionary, where above stated look is a uniform requirement, don't do that.  SIDEBAR: if you ARE a Mormon Missionary, I would kindly ask that you don't do THAT either....
   5. Bowties - Meh!  It's kind of a hipster trend that I don't really get, but wearing a bowtie does require a little bit of attitude, so given the right situation a bowtie might be acceptable.  Maybe.....
   6. Hats, ballcaps, visors - Big fan when they are worn properly!  Flat-billed ballcaps are stupid and hideous and make you look like a gang-banger.  Ballcaps worn backwards make you look like a jackass frat boy that never grew up.  NOTE: a hat/visor needs to sit on top of your ears, not over your ears.  I've noticed a trend with boys wearing hats over their ears.  That looks bizarre and makes me assume that without the hat you look like Dumbo and need to plaster your freakishly large ears to your head so you don't fly away in a stiff breeze.   It's terrible.  Don't do that!  Also, you need to know where it's OK to wear a ballcap and where it's not!
   7. Flip flops/Sandals - There are some men that look hot in flip flops, but not many.  This goes for both sexes - if you have nasty, ugly feet and nails please do us all a favor and cover that shit up.  
6. Intellect!  You may have noticed that I tend to be a bit of a sarcastic, smart-ass.  If you can't run with the big dogs, don't get in the race!

I'm sure if I actually begin to consider dating anyone this list will grow, but for now these are the items on my checklist.  

Today marks the 6-month anniversary of my choose your new adventure life.  On the whole, things are good, but it's been the craziest, scariest, most tumultuous six-months I've ever imagined.  There are days when I love my little downtown apartment and my new little urban live.  There are also a whole lot of day where I feel like a complete imposter in this crazy, strange new world.  More importantly, I know I've flaked out on commitments and and burdened far to many of you to take a trip on my emotional roller-coaster.  I'd like to say those days are done, but I know now, more than ever they are NOT!  Thank you for your continued support through my flakiness and I will do my best to not drag you along on my ups and downs as I continue on this journey.

Until next time...

XOXO

Making my list, and checking it thrice?

Hello my lovelies,

This is just a quick rant about people who have pissed me off this week.

Let me start with my attorney.  She keeps hounding me about this "estate inventory" that she wants me to complete and return to her.  I've asked repeatedly what this will be used for and what assets need to be included.  She always responds in the same way, saying that it only needs to include assets that were just in Ray's name and not anything that we owned together.  OK, that's a short list, but I still don't know WHAT it is going to be used for, so now we are officially in a stand-off.  Her paralegal keeps telling me that they can't close my case until I return this, I told her I can't return this until I understand clearly the purpose of what is being requested.  This poor woman hates me at this point, because she answers the phone when I call.  Sadly for her, I don't care.  As soon as they provide me a satisfactory answer to my question I will return the form.  FWIW - I've already filled it out and saved it, so I just need to hit reply on the email and attach it, but I won't, not until they answer my question.  Hooray - once again Ronda demonstrates her ability to act like a petulant child!  Shocked?  I didn't figure so.....

Coming in at the number two spot is DirecTV.  We had DirecTV for a long time, but Ray cancelled it a couple of years ago and went with a local ISP and cable provider.  I've gotten FIVE calls this week because somehow DirecTV has decided that our account is still active and that Ray now owes $1.05.  I've now explained to three different agents that Ray died and that we cancelled that service and that I am not going to write a check and pay for postage for a bullshit bill of $1.05.  This has been a tough week emotionally anyway (I think I officially hate birthdays) and having to repeatedly inform these $12 per hour call jockeys that Ray is no longer with us is really wearing on me.  This morning, I got yet another call and this time rather than trying to explain I just immediately asked to be transferred to her supervisor.  Chaz, the supervisor, clearly had a little too much caffeine this morning and I don't think he was prepared for, or expecting, the wrath of a sobbing, widowed, ex-customer disputing a bill for one f*ing dollar!  Lucky for Chaz, after a brief hold he very enthusiastically informed me that he was able to have that charge written off.  He then asked if there was anything else he could do for me, to which I equally enthusiastically (perhaps sarcastically might be more accurate, but I'm going to call my response enthusiastic) replied, "short of removing my phone number so your company can never call me again I don't think so!"  

In third place on my annoyance list this week is the Museum of Nature and Science.  A few years ago Ray got a gift membership through Agilent.  I renewed it a couple of times when there were exhibits that I thought seemed interesting, but this year I ignored the letters.  A few weeks ago the membership department called Ray to ask for his continued support.  At that time I informed Tyler, the call agent, that Ray passed away and that I would not be getting a membership for just myself at this time.  This morning, I checked the mailbox and there was a letter addressed to Ray.  It's pretty much the standard renewal form, but at the top of the letter is a handwritten note that says:

Mr. Constable, Thank you for considering your membership renewal!  Tyler

Hmmmm, what part of the statement Ray is DEAD and I'm NOT renewing, sounded to Tyler like I was considering the membership renewal?   

Finally, rounding out my list of people who pissed me off this week, I once again present to you, my attorney.  Earlier this week I got an invoice from her for $70.38, with it was a past due notice from the Greeley Tribune stating that the payment for the legal ad regarding Ray's estate was 30-days past due.  In the envelope was also a Statement stating that I have a credit of -$158.17.  This seemed odd and since I was calling to question, for the third time, what exactly they intend to use that stupid estate inventory form for, I inquired as to why they sent me a past due notice about the ad, when I have a credit balance.  Poor dingbat paralegal said that she didn't know how to apply the credit and pay the newspaper, so she asked if I would just send a check to the newspaper and that she would add that payment to my credit balance. Ummmm, What?  Did I hear that correctly?  You probably won't be surprised to learn that I said "NO!" and in the most polite tone I could muster suggested that she "ask her boss about the accounting practices in the firm to pay the newspaper without burdening the client with such trivial matters."  Did I mention that she hates me?  Yeah, I thought so.....

I'm off to an interview!  Not sure I'm giddy about the job, but it sounds like a fun group of people and I would like to get some paychecks again.  Wish me luck!

Until next time....

XOXO