Monday, December 31, 2012


It's a lot of whining so you're forced to click after the jump if you want to indulge.

If you follow my twitter, you know I use #spinsterlyfe a lot. It's because I find myself this winter, with no hockey to watch and college football mostly wrapped up, with nothing to do but watch a ton of romcoms and spend inordinate amounts of time by myself because I generally dislike people.

Mostly I'm fine with this. And it's a bit of a joke. Spinsters aren't really a "thing" anymore and I'm strong and independent blah blah blah.

Except now it's New Year's Eve and for the first time in years, I find myself with an itch to actually do something on this night. Which of course coincides with me a) having no plans and b) me not being able to go out tonight.

The a) is because the trusty friend went and got herself a swing shift city job so she doesn't even get off work until almost midnight and the male bff went to Portland for the weekend for reasons beyond understanding.

The b) is because my mother had ankle surgery on the 28th and is pretty much stuck in bed for another day before she can start minimally moving around. My stepdad has to work tonight so guess who gets to stay home and wait on her?! (I just brought her breakfast. She sighed and said, "This is not the Ritz." YOU'RE WELCOME! I'm just gonna go ahead and rename myself Little Edy now.)

So while mostly I use #spinsterlyfe a bit tongue in cheek, I am fully feeling the weight of it currently, knowing that bad romcoms and solo drinking on the couch await me tonight. (And by god after all I put up with over the holidays, no one gets to judge the solo drinking. NO ONE! We are currently full of misanthropy and if I'm not responding to texts or emails, don't take it personally, I don't like anyone at the moment.)

I am a little crabby about all of this. I mean, I know it's not some magical night where amazing things happen. It's just another night and an even worse one than usual because so many people are out trying to make it magical. That every bar bathroom will be a disgusting wreck before midnight even comes and that people will try to cram so much fun in before the clock strikes 12, that there will be sobbing girls by one and frat boys posturing for a fight by 1:30. Cabs will be scarce, buses will be packed, everyone will have forgotten to eat with their champagne leading them to be sloppy. It'll be Santacon without the elf costumes and more Forever21 dresses. And that goes for people of all ages.

Still. Even knowing that doesn't mean that the thought of the couch, the dogs, romcoms, and singleness isn't suddenly a bit depressing.

So I think you should cheer me up by telling me your worst New Year's Eve stories or why you think tonight is gonna suck/what your plans are. Misery loves company, after all.

I can't even get jazzed about LSU's meaningless bowl game kicking off at 4:30 today because it means the season is over and the nine months between now and kickoff v TCU in the Jerrah dome is just too much to contemplate. Get your shit together, NHL. (However: I am really loving SF Bulls games as fun, pretty cheap, not too shabby hockey and if you live in SF, you should definitely go catch a game. I went Friday with Beth and Chuck, and despite a miserable sinus headache, I had a great time.)

In other news: Remember when I said I was gonna cut all my hair off? Well, it got delayed a few weeks because the hair dresser was sick, which was annoying because I'd made this decision and wanted it done but that's life. So on Friday I finally did it. It's...taking some getting used to. Nothing will make you realize your hair is a dead thing like holding a ponytail's worth of it in your hand. My mother loves it, the hairdresser loves it, but I'm still not quite sold. Which is fine, it'll grow. But on a completely vain level, it's an adjustment. It's...short. I mean, it's a cute bob, I guess. And I went darker with red highlights so I look pretty different. I'm just warming up to it, I suppose. And no, I will not be distributing any pictures.

I came home after getting it done and my stepdad says, "You didn't cut it all off." Dude, I cut off a foot of hair. I have a baggy with an 11" ponytail in it. It's a lot. "Yeah, but it's not like GI Jane short." No. No it's not. So there's that.

1 comment:

  1. Not sure if my plans are good or crap, but it's going to be like any other night for me. Once the kid issue in bed, I'll retreat to my bed and catch up on The Mentalist with a bowl of I've cream. Hubby is working, coming home to cook dinner, then he's going back to work. Right now work is fixing our old house for the landlord, so if he takes it as an opportunity to ring in the new year with his friends, Whitney and Lisana, a few blocks away, I'll be fucking pissed! Our first NYE he spent with his mom and grandma in San Diego. Then last year David was 5 months old, and he spent the day partying and got home at noon the next day. We'll see how this year goes.