Halfway to 50!

Twenty somethings unite!

Spring Break… You Dirty B*&%@# March 23, 2012


What the hell is everyone doing?  No, I’m serious, what is everyone actually doing?  I’ve been on spring break for 8 days now.  8 days.  As a teacher, it is one benefit we reap every year in March.  10 days with no students, no assessments, no crazy parent emails (well, actually those keep coming, I just choose to ignore them during my hiatus), and no stress.  With 8 days down and 2 to go, I’m feeling stir crazy and just want to know what everyone else is doing to occupy their time.  Until I can figure that out, let me tell you about the wild shenanigans I’ve been up to.  Brace yourself…

Days 1-3 my parents visited.  I moved approximately 3.5 hours from home (yes hours, not miles, I cannot read a map to save my life and would easily die on Survivor before being voted off first by my tribe) so when they come to visit it is always a fun time.  We went downtown to see the big St. Patrick’s Day parade.  My dad grabbed for my mom’s hand upon seeing multiple “weirdos” as he called them.  “Where the hell are you taking us?” he asked.  After convincing them that this parade is supposed to be really cool and worth our time, we stayed and sat on a curb for an hour.  I tried to keep conversation rolling to pass the time, but it was clear they weren’t exactly impressed with my itinerary thus far.  Finally, the first few floats (well more like large party buses) drove by and were filled with screaming, and I’m assuming drunk, people.  Mom began to enjoy herself as she screamed for beads as each float, er, bus passed by.  She had several within a few minutes and was smitten.  An hour or so passed and my parents rolled up our blanket we were sitting on and promptly announced they’d had enough of the drunken people screaming and were ready to go.  We left.

Day 4 began with my friend calling me around 10:00 screaming, “SPRING BREAK 2012 BITCHES!!!”  A little groggy having just woken up only minutes ago, I managed a small, “Woooo.”  I looked down at my baggy pajamas and tried to run my fingers through my bed head hair.  Spring break wasn’t off to a great start this week.  If only I was hanging out at a swim up bar with my girlfriends in a cheetah print bikini taking body shots off some guy named, Brad, whom we had just met and claimed to be producer for MTV.  Now that would be a real spring break!  “Hello?”  I shook my head as my friend brought me back to reality.  “Oh sorry, I was just trying to figure out what to do today,” I said.

Days 4-6 were filled with my attempt to be a 1950’s housewife.  I am a pretty big feminist so this was big for me, and very exciting for my husband!  I’m sure you heard of Pinterest by now.  If not, get out from under your rock and Google that shit.  I hunted furiously for great recipes I could actually make (the options were limited due to my crap cooking skills and flat-out laziness) and got busy cooking!  Creamy Crock-Pot Spaghetti was up first.  Overall, it went pretty well.  But four hours later when it was time to open the pot and stir, all of my noodles were stuck together.  It tasted alright, but watching my husband eat a wad of 10 spaghetti noodles stuck together and kindly say, “Mmmm, good!” with each bite was just sad.  Peanut Butter Cup Chocolate Chip Cookies turned out great!  I put way more care into making these high calorie, carb-filled, bites of pure deliciousness than I had selecting our first house.  Finally, I made Lasagna Spinach Roll Ups.  Although they were more time-consuming than the lovely blog they came from explained, I was proud of their outcome.  We didn’t eat until after 8:00 PM, but hey, Jersey Shore wasn’t an overnight sensation either.

Finally, FINALLY, on Day 7 I found a poor soul to have lunch with.  Seriously, I had been calling other teacher friends all week for some human interaction (apparently my mind craves it after only a few hours alone) and everyone was busy.  What the HELL were they doing all week?  Someone please tell me!  I walked into the restaurant and my friend says, “Wow, did you get your hair done?  It looks cute!  I like your clothes, very fun!”  Nope, no hair appointment.  No new outfit.  The thought of interacting with another person excited me so much that I kind of dolled myself up and went a little crazy.  “Well, you know….” I said and shrugged as if I hadn’t been lounging in baggy sweatpants and old college t-shirts for 6 days in a row.  Lunch was nice and we ended up having a 2 hour convo about moving, school, relationships, and buying furniture from nut jobs who “only accept cash.”  Yikes.

Which brings me to today.  Day 8.  It is Friday and the only part left of my spring break is the weekend with my hubbie as usual.  My “vacation” is over and back to reality I go.  I managed to rearrange some bookshelves after knocking over a lamp and cussing like crazy to nobody in particular.  I also caught up on the latest celebrity scandals and gossip by repeatedly checking my Twitter account and People.com.  (Did you know Tori Spelling is pregnant AGAIN??)

In conclusion, I just have to tell spring break what a dirty b*&%@# she is.  Yes, I got to relax.  Yes, I slept in like a college student with 1:00 class.  Yes, my photos are now perfectly arranged by date and in albums.  But I’m ready to get back to contributing to society.  Back to getting dressed like an adult every day.  Back to having a reason to put on hair spray and mascera.  Spring break, you’ve been relaxing, but you’re also a dirty  b*&%@#.

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Green Drinks? Yes, Please! March 16, 2011


So St. Patrick’s Day is tomorrow.  I’ve recently begun to celebrate this lovely holiday in which leprachauns dance and the beer is delightfully green.  Why?  Because it always falls during my spring break and let’s face it, I have nothing better to do.

This year I’ve happily recruited 2 people to join my in my St. Patrick’s Day festivities.  Both ladies are teachers and therefore also experiencing a lame spring break in the midwest (not on an island.)  Together, I’m hoping, we can say “Screw the island spring break getaway!  We have green beer to drink, green shirts to wear, skinny jeans to rock, and good times to be had!”  Yes, this year is set up to be great.  However, being halfway to 50, I have some worries about what is actually going to happen tomorrow.  Here are two scenarios I’ve created in my mind that may or may not happen:

Scenario #1) We three half way to 50’s arrive at the most Irish bar in town.  The place is packed and we push our way through the crowd to find a table.  We waltz to the table in our green attire, tall boots, and hair flowing in the breeze.  (Well, it’ll probably be flat and a little snarly, but this is my fantasy ok?)  We order some lovely green beverages and begin catching up on all that has happened over our spring break so far.  We shoo away the men who just keep coming up to our table in attempt to buy us a drink.  “Please,” I say, “I’m married!”  (Again, this is my fantasy so don’t judge.)  After several beverages we dance a little to our favorite songs and run into even more friends.  We stumble out the door after a fun night of drinks and laughter.  St. Patrick’s Day was a succcess!

However, there is always this possibility…

Scenario #2) I can’t find anything green to wear that looks cute.  Someone calls to say they’re running late.  My hair won’t stay curled, but looks gross flat.  I pull it together and run out the door to meet my friends.  We walk in and nobody is at the bar.  Apparently, there is a free keg somewhere downtown and everyone went there.  We easily grab a table and order drinks.  There are no drink specials and no men grappling at our feet.  We have a drink and then someone decides to make it an early night.  Then there were two.  We have one more drink and decide to head home.  St. Patricks Day was a disappointment.  Maybe next year…

When you’re halfway to 50, you just never know how the night will turn out.   Sometimes people are in the mood to party like they’re 21 and sometimes people are tired and pack it in early.  It’s like flipping a coin.  But hey, pennies are lucky so maybe I could flip one of those tomorrow night.  It’s the luck o’ the Irish!