I forgot that it was Valentine’s Day but when I remembered, it was EPIC

If you were upset that you were alone on Valentine’s day, I want you to relax.  Chill.  It’s not a big deal.  I will tell you a secret: I have never received a gift on Valentine’s Day.  In my 37 years on this planet, I have never even gotten a card from a guy.  When I was younger, it bothered me.  Now, not so much. I don’t buy into the hype of the holiday.  Single Awareness Day?  Please.  I am aware that I am single all of the time.  It’s not a Greek tragedy.

But this year I LITERALLY forgot about the holiday.  I went to a restaurant after work on V-day and the hostess shouts at me, “Happy Valentine’s Day!”  I stood there with a deer caught in the headlights look. All I wanted was a glass of sangria and some happy hour appetizers.  I didn’t need this grief.  So I awkwardly said, “Thanks?”  The manager of the restaurant did the same thing.  She ran up on me like she wanted to steal my wallet and shouted, “HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY! I AM SO GLAD TO SEE YOU!”  Listen, she is lucky she didn’t catch a left hook because she scared the hell out of me.  

While I was sipping my adult beverage and people watching,  I remembered that I had made a plan a few days earlier for Valentine’s day.   I even posted it on Facebook.  I decided to go to Wal-mart and stand in their seasonal aisle and watch men frantically search for gifts for their boos, side chicks and wives. I was going to give unsolicited relationship advice.  For free.  So I went.  It was great.  

As I stood in the middle of an aisle with scraps of candy and sad stuffed animals on the shelves, a tall black dude walks up.  We made eye contact and I smiled really big at him.  It doesn’t take much to encourage men or stroke their egos so he took the smile as a cue that it was safe to talk to me.  No one told him that stranger danger is real. 

Him: Hey, there! How are you?

Me: I can’t complain.  How about you?

Him: (looks embarrassed) Oh! I forgot about Valentine’s day.  I am shopping at the last minute.  

*He picks up a stuffed dog*

Him: What do you think about this?  Do you like this? 

Me: Ummm…Is that a gift for your daughter?

Him: No…

Me: Oh. Because grown women don’t like toys as gifts.  At least not that kind of toy…

He laughed.  But I could tell he wasn’t here for my nonsense.  He walked away before I could give him directions to the Wal-mart jewelry section.  Cubic Zirconia’s are a girl’s frenemy.  Sangria makes me brave. I flirt with strange men in Wal-mart when I am tipsy.  

Happy Belated Valentine’s Day Everyone! 


I don’t end friendships because of a difference in political views. I end friendships with people who are dumb.

I want to put this out there for people who are shaming people for deleting friends on social media for “political views”.  If you were deleted from my friends list on social media, it was not because you have decided to vote for one candidate or the other.  I give people the ax for saying bigoted things and/or saying things that are indicative of the fact that they have shit dust for brains and the maid came by and did a half ass job of sweeping in their head.  So as a result, there is just shit dust residue in their cranium.

I am going to give you an example.

One of my high school teachers hates Hillary Clinton.  That’s fine.  I don’t really like that fool either.  I didn’t vote for her the first time that she ran for President.  He likes to go on these diatribes about how if you vote for Clinton you must be brain dead.  According to him, you are going to burn in the lake of fire if you vote for Hillary Clinton.  He will follow this up with some scripture that is either inapplicable or twisted to align with his agenda.  One day, this particular gentleman posted an article with a picture of a blonde woman on stage grabbing a male exotic dancer by the crotch.  The caption alleged that the woman was Hillary Clinton. My dear old teacher posts, “Pictures don’t lie!”  Someone immediately commented, “That’s not Hillary Clinton.  That’s Florence Henderson.”  I laughed so hard that I thought I would need someone to come and resuscitate me.  He immediately challenged the young woman who corrected him.  She quickly substantiated her claim with a link from snopes.com.  This made me laugh harder.

Friends, if you are in your 60s and you can’t tell the difference between the mom from The Brady Bunch and Hillary Clinton, we can’t be friends.  I can’t allow myself to be associated with that level of stupidity.   The disassociation has nothing to do with political views.  It has everything to do with the fact that you either need cataract surgery or you need a psych evaluation and refuse to do something to help yourself. Either way, if you can’t distinguish Carol Brady from Bill Clinton’s wife, you probably eat paste and think that it is melted ice cream.

Additionally, statements that begin with, “Blacks just need to…” or “Black Lives Matter is a terrorist group that…” will likely get your feelings hurt.  People have the right to their opinions.  However, when an individual makes gross over generalizations about certain groups of people, I tend to Hulk out and rage a little bit.  Such statements will likely cause me to quietly end our friendship.

My point: I can be friends with someone who disagrees with me politically.  I can’t be your friend if you are a bigot or just plain dumb.

I Wish I Could Get You Drunk Enough That You Would Forget I am Married…and other lame lines

I haven’t written anything in awhile.  I have had some huge changes.  First, I moved to Mississippi because I took a job here.  I am actually shocked that I was offered the job because I blew the interview over the phone.  The Vice President of Human Resources interviewed me over the phone and in the course of the interview he was really nervous that I wouldn’t relocate to Mississippi from Texas and he asked me various questions about why I would be willing to move.  I knocked all of his questions out of the park.  And then he asked me a question that stumped me.

Him: So what do you know about Mississippi?

Me: (*long pause*) Well… not much.  I only know what I learned from that movie Mississippi Burning and what I read in John Grisham novels.

Guys.  I wouldn’t have hired me.

My move to Mississippi has been an adjustment.  One of the things I have noticed is the men here are a bunch of cornballs.  I am thrilled about this.  I was running out of victims in Dallas.

Just so that we are clear, you need to understand that I don’t date.  I don’t bother to try. This love shop has been closed for some years now.  I am the president of the Iron Panty Club.  Nobody is sticking their hand in this cookie jar because there is a pirana waiting to take your hand off if you try to take a sugary snack without permission.  But since I have moved, I actually have been out with a couple of people.  Neither date went well.  That’s a topic for another blog though.  Trust me, those blog posts are coming.

A new friend I made decided she wanted to help me make some friends and professional connections so she introduced me to some guys.  One of them, let’s call him John, invited me for a cup of coffee.  I meet John at a local coffee house and shit rolled down hill really fast.  Just as I sat down he said, “I just want to put it out there that I am married.”

WHOA, PAL! Calm down! I looked around the room, confused.  I looked down at my blouse to see if I was wearing a sign that said , “Tasty” across my chest or some other signal that I was on the prowl and open for business.  I reassured him that I was under the impression that this was strictly networking and had no plans on trying to awkwardly seduce him.  Do you know that this fool looked disappointed?  He tried to explain why he opened with that.  He told me that he met a woman on LinkedIn and she was really angry when he didn’t disclose that he was married when he met up with her.  He went on to tell me that LinkedIn is a hookup site for professionals. Yeah.  So I am sure there was way more to that story but I wasn’t interested in pursuing it.  During the meeting, he was flirtatious to say the least.  I had to reiterate that I wasn’t interested.  We finished our overpriced beverages and went our separate ways.

A few days later I get a text message that said, “I wish I could get you drunk enough that you would forget that I am married.”

I should have been outraged.  Instead, I was amused.  Who did this joker think he was?  My reply:

“That’s too bad.  There isn’t enough alcohol in Ireland on St. Patty’s day to get me that drunk.  But there are plenty of women out there that don’t need to get drunk to sleep with you and some of them take American Express.”   #savage #hewasnotready

He tried to deflect and say he was just kidding.  His number is blocked now.  I don’t need that drama in my life.

I share this with you, my friends, because some of you may be all wrapped up with someone who is married or you feel like you don’t have any options and that someone else’s spouse is the best you can do right now because no one else is knocking. I don’t know about you but my track record on the dating scene is way too crappy to add seeing another woman’s husband to my karma.   I am a firm believer that the root of infidelity is people not respecting other people’s relationships.   We can stop extramarital affairs one cheating bastard at a time if we all stick together and hold these fools accountable.  The End.  (Not really the end! I have more awesomeness coming for you!)


Fairy Odd Parent

I am a godmother people! I am a little pumped about it too!  One of my best friends had a baby girl three weeks ago.  She asked me, “So I want to talk to you about you being my baby’s godmother.”  I answered, “Absolutely.  Just send me a job description and a list of duties and I am all over it!”

There is no job description.  I am going to make this up as I go.  This is going to be so awesome.

I get to share this baby.  I get the benefits of a kid without stretching out my lady parts and whipping my boobs out in public to breastfeed.

My mother was concerned when I told her.  She said, “Did she not have any other friends she could ask????”  My mom is questioning someone’s parenting decisions.  This is hilarious.  This is the woman who sent me to stay with her sister, who had no rules or boundaries at her house, every summer.  The sister who told me that gorillas wanted to hump me at the zoo.  But I bet you didn’t know that my aunt Edna gave me my very first piece of lingerie.  When I was nine.  I thought I was a little older but my mother confirmed it.  I was nine years old.

One summer, I was poking around in my aunt’s dresser looking through her clothes.  I came across a red negligee. It was lacy and part of it was see through.  I pulled it out of the drawer and held it up in the air like Rafiki held Simba up on The Lion King.

Me: What’s this?

Aunt Edna:  Oh! That’s my sexy wear.

Me: Cool! Can I have it?

Aunt Edna: Sure!

I was so excited.  I ran to my room and tucked the new piece of clothing in my bag.  And then I forgot about it.

When I got back to east Texas, my mom was unpacking my bag and she shrieked when she saw my new wardrobe addition.  “Where did you get this?!?!?”  My poor mother looked as white as a sheet.  Can you imagine going through your nine year old’s bag and finding honeymoon wear?

“Oh! Edna gave me that! She said it’s her sexy wear!”

Friends, it is inappropriate to give a child clothing that is only appropriate for her wedding night.  I know this.  I learned from the mistakes of my foremothers.  So sweet little god baby, I swear to only give you pajamas that have feet in them until you turn 30.  I will also take you to the zoo and not scare you about gorillas escaping and trying to have their way with you.  I am going to do such a good job that no one is going to even know that it is me.  You can also have a cabbage patch doll because they don’t really give you cancer (another blog for another day, guys.  My parents were such liars.)

*Maniacal Laughter*

I am a Fairy Odd Mother.

Ridiculous Questions Men Ask and My Ridiculous Answers

This may shock you but sometimes men say non-smart things to women.  They often say things to me that make me question if their dad and their grandpa are the same person.  Unfortunately for them, I have a sharp tongue and a reputation among my friends as being too rough on the opposite sex. This simply isn’t true.  I just chew them up and spit them out to entertain myself.  Just kidding.  Sort of.

Social media has made the men a little bolder.  It’s easier for them to be keyboard warriors and not face the fiery wrath of my wit.  This is a drastic change from the 90s when they had to listen to me berate them in person.  But my personality gets a little better as I get older when it comes to dealing with the menfolk.  When I was a wee one and a man said something dumb or asked me a stupid question, I would douse his ego with gasoline and set it on fire with just my words.  Now I entertain myself by responding to ridiculous questions with ridiculous answers.  Let me give you an example.

I was on Facebook the other day minding my own business.  I got a friend request from someone that I didn’t know.  I checked to see if we had mutual friends and we did.  All of them were friends from my church and these mutual friends were all people I knew well so I accepted the friend request.  What harm could it do?  People from my church add me all of the time and sometimes never talk to me.   Not this guy though. He immediately sends me a private message.  Want to read it?  Here it is (I edited this conversation because his grammar and sentence structure were the equivalent of that of a 2nd grader):

Him: Hey sister, when did you graduate from Tulsa?

 So far, no harm.  He appears to be making a professional connection. Maybe he went to my school.  At this point, I am not annoyed.

Me: 2012.  I went to law school there.

Him: Oh! So you’re young and tender.

What?  People still say this?  Did I get in a time machine and go back to 1998?  Am I cattle?  Am I a marinated piece of steak?  Tender?  What fresh hell is this? 

Me:  Nope.  Not young or tender.  I am a menstrual cramp and a hot flash away from menopause.  (Note: He asked a ridiculous question and I gave a ridiculous answer. Keep reading.)

Him: LOL! You married?

Me: No.

Him:  Not married?  What’s wrong with you?

Me:  When I take my clothes off, there are scales all over my body like an alligator.  The men don’t like it.

Him:  LOL

He didn’t send me anymore messages.

Guys, he wasn’t ready.

I wonder how many men get asked this question when women discover that a man isn’t married.  Isn’t it interesting that when a man is unmarried that he is a “bachelor” or “trying to find himself”?  These men are called “eligible males”.  When a woman is single, she is a “spinster”.  People say things like, “There aren’t that many shopping days until Christmas”.  We must be “crazy”if we look a certain way, have an education and have a good job but aren’t married.  While this dude’s stupidity and insensitivity amused me,  his words could have been devastating to someone who was struggling with loneliness.  Imagine if he said that to someone who just ended an engagement, a marriage or recently found out that her romantic partner was gay and she is questioning whether she is good enough, attractive enough or smart enough to get and keep a mate.

I have to step back on my soapbox about this topic again.  My marital status does not define me as a person.  Your marital status does not define you as a person. The way you treat people and the way you speak to people does.  We live in a culture where people who choose not to marry or who have not found a suitable spouse are treated as less than.  Being single is not a curse.  We are fine.  Marriage is not something that you have to aspire to or actively pursue if you don’t desire it.   If you have a spouse, that’s great! If you don’t have one, that’s great too!  It is becoming more and more common for single men to criticize their female counterparts and question their sanity based on a decision not to marry.  (Another blog post is coming about another encounter that I had with a different dude last week). This is not fair criteria to judge someone on because marriage is not a lifestyle for everyone and may not be in God’s plan for each person.

However, I do pass just a tiny bit of judgment on someone who will hit up a woman that he has never met before on Facebook and make a sorry attempt at flirting.  That judgment comes extra tough when the person’a timeline is filled with scripture, references to Christ and memes about saving sinners.  Here is a newsflash: Jesus does not want you to make references to his daughters as “young and tender” or use any other innuendos about our age, sexual experience or the shapes and conditions of our bodies.  If a woman is not your wife or your girlfriend, she should be treated like your sister.  (Now if you are a disgusting human being and you are attracted to your sister, you should act as if the cops are watching you with guns drawn.  Whatever works to keep you in line.)  Me not being married is okay. Men making inappropriate comments to women on social media in “secret” but professing Christ publicly is NOT OKAY.

And in case you are wondering, I didn’t delete or block that guy from my social media account.  I don’t care if he sees what I write about him.  I hope the “gentleman” who was so bold to message me in private acts with a little bit more wisdom and discretion with women in the future.  I am here to entertain and educate the masses.  Jesus was around women all of the time and he never said, “Hey boo! You married?  You’re not? What’s wrong with you?  You’re a young and tender thing!”  Be like Him. WWJD and stuff like that.




Harambe, wardrobe malfuntions and childhood trauma

My newsfeed on social media has been cluttered with the news of that three or four year old (does anyone know how old that kid was?) who got himself dragged like a rag doll around the gorilla enclosure at the Cincinnati Zoo.  I am not here to criticize anyone’s parenting skills, what the zoo should or should not have done or give commentary on whether or not the mother should be charged with neglect.  No.  I am here because as I watched Harambe yank that kid around his house, I got a flashback to my own childhood.

Many of you who know me know that my mom had me when she was really young.  I am the product of a broken condom and poor teenage choices.   My mom did the best she could, bless her heart.  My grandparents and maternal aunts and uncles all tried really hard to keep me alive and bless them, they succeeded.  But that doesn’t mean I am not a little damaged from their methods.  When I was a kid, I used to ask for stuff and cry when I couldn’t get what I wanted.  So my grandmother and other family members resorted to lying to me to scare me into submission.  Good grief, it worked.

My sweet Aunt Edna, the one that offered to pay for my wedding dress in my last post, used to pick me up every summer and I would come to the city to stay with her for about a month.  I loved it because she always let me do whatever I wanted.  The sky wasn’t even a limit.  One summer, I was about nine, she asked me what I wanted to do.  I said, “Oh! I want to go to the zoo! Yes! The zoo!”  Edna’s face contorted.   The conversation went something like this:

Me: The zoo! Let’s do it! I love animals! Let’s go and look at zebras and monkeys and stuff!

Edna: No. We can’t go to the zoo.

Me: (working up the waterworks) But! I want to!

Edna: You’re a smart girl who watches the news right?  You didn’t see what happened at the zoo?

Me:  No…

Edna: A gorilla got out of it’s cage at the zoo.  Sure did! And it grabbed a lady and put her under his armpit and carried her off into a corner of the zoo and started humping her.   He was all musty because gorillas don’t take showers.  They wash in dirty water.  You know how you hate people with body odor.

Me: Oh…

Edna: So you don’t want to go to the zoo do you?  Do you want that gorilla to get out and get you?  I won’t be able to save you if it does.

So I didn’t ask to go to the zoo anymore.  But what in the entire hell?  Who tells a kid that they might get humped by a gorilla at the zoo?  Lord, bless this mess.

So as I watched video footage of this kid getting tossed around in water and people screaming, I remembered why I never go to the zoo.  I don’t want to be molested by a gorilla.  Some may say that gorilla molestation is the only action I am ever going to get in life, but those people are just rude.  But, watching the video footage brought out some of my dark humor after I knew that the kid was okay.  Some things stood out to me and I started thinking about things that make me chuckle a bit.

  1. Harambe did not like pants that sagged. There is one point in the video where the gorilla and the little kid are just standing there.  Gorilla appears to be holding the kid’s hand.  But the gorilla turns the child around and starts pulling up the child’s pants! What in the world?  It’s like the gorilla said, “Pull your pants up, boy! This is not prison.  You are not in a gang! Respect yourself, son!”  Harambe drags the child around but then wants to make sure that his clothes stay on.  This is so strange!  The gorilla cared about wardrobe malfunctions, even when he is the cause of said malfunction.  He unwittingly sent a message that saggy pants are not okay and are not attractive.  Well done, Harambe, well done.
  2. This child will never watch Tarzan and feel the same about gorillas. Inevitably, this child will watch Tarzan and ask his mom why Harambe didn’t pick him up and carry him on his back or hold him like an infant.  He will have an unrealistic expectation of how animals treat baby humans.  My hope is that this child’s mother doesn’t sugar coat things and let’s the kid know, “Because sweetie, you were a trespasser.  Trespassers don’t get coddled.  They get shot, dragged and beaten.  And also, this is a cartoon.  It’s not real.”
  3. Planet of the Apes (the most recent adaptations of this movie) are going to be a source of PTSD episodes. This kid is going to froth at the mouth when he sees walking, signing and talking apes electrocuting humans and riding horses.  I beg that this mother burn all bluray copies of this movie and avoid the DVD section at Target.  Don’t even walk by the movie bargain bin at Wal-Mart.  It’s too risky.
  4. The Jungle Book (the non-animated version) is going to make this kid break into a cold sweat.  Remember when Mowgli gets snatched and the bear and the big black cat have to go rescue him?  Yeah.  Life imitating art.

I may lose some friends for this blog post.  Some friends who are gung ho animal rights activists but have never donated a dime to an animal rescue or volunteered their time to help animals may take deep offense to my jokes.  They might say, “A gorilla died! How can you joke about that!”  I can joke about it because I am a twisted human being that believes to this day that gorillas want to grope me at the zoo.  You’re welcome.


When are you getting married? As soon as your divorce is final. *wink, wink*

I turn 37 in about two and a half months.  It’s a little bit surreal.  I feel like just yesterday I was on a school bus hitting boys in the face with my clarinet case for bothering me.  But here I am. Adulting all over the place or I am trying to anyway.  As it happens, I am also unmarried and I don’t have any kids.  My age plus my marital status has caused some panic.  The panic doesn’t come from me though.  I am so chill about it. My friends and family are freaking out for me.

I recently discovered that my aunt and my mother watch “Say Yes to the Dress” and plan my wedding for me. My aunt told my mom not to worry because she is paying for my wedding dress.  I am like, “Can I just get the cash for that dress please?  I have a shoe addiction that needs to be enabled and wedding dress money is just what I need to fund my next fix.”   My aunt even went as far as to call me up one day out of the blue and ask me if I had a significant other.  I was baffled because other than her and my mother’s strange ritual of talking about my wedding day while watching bridal shows on television, I had no idea that she even cared if I had a boyfriend or not.  The conversation went something like this:

Aunt Edna: I haven’t heard from you in a long time! How have you been?  Do you have a significant other?  (Note that she didn’t wait for me to answer the first question)

Me: Uhhhh…no I don’t have a boyfriend.  Why?

Aunt Edna: *sigh of disgust* Come on, Kim!

Me: What?????

Aunt Edna: I need you to hurry up and meet someone and have me a baby. I need a niece or nephew!

Me: You have a son, Edna! He is shacking up with a girl and fornicating all over the damn place.  Call him and tell him to have a baby.

Aunt Edna: No.  Not him.  He doesn’t need to have any kids.  You.  I want you to start working on that.

The weirdness doesn’t stop there.  Not only is my Aunt concerned about me getting laid and growing a baby in my body, I am catching heat from my married friends who suddenly want to set me up with their friends.  One particular smug married man (who is actually pretty cool when he isn’t being all smug and married)  will randomly announce that he has “a homeboy” that I need “to hook up with”.  Every year he and his wife throw a holiday party at Christmas time and a pool party in the summer, neither of which do I ever attend, and he says, “So I have some single guys on deck for you at the party!”. Let me just say that these attempts to set me up are completely unsolicited.  I have never in anyway suggested that I would be interested in any of this dude’s friends.  The fact that those parties would be a reenactment of The Bachelorette for me is really what keeps me away from those parties.  But maybe I need to go this year just to entertain you all with a good blog post about how I turned a pool party into a reality show…hmmm. I can get someone to record my interactions with  these men with their phone.   But I digress.

The best thing about being on the downside of your 30s and single is other single people trying to make you feel bad about being on the downside of your 30s and single. It’s my favorite things in the WHOLE WORLD!  I recently befriended a guy from my church that has made it clear that he is marriage minded and is looking for his wife.  He is a sweet guy.  He is fun to talk to.  But his incessant inquiries about my marital status make me want to fight the air.

Nice Guy Friend:  So why aren’t you married?

Me: I don’t know.  Because I’m just not.

Nice Guy Friend: So don’t you want to be married?

Me: Sure.  Maybe one day.

Nice Guy Friend:  I don’t understand.  What are you waiting on?

Me: *facepalm*

So I wonder what would happen if I gave my married friends the same treatment that they gave me regarding their marital status.   I listen to one of my girlfriends complain about how her husband forgot to pay their car payment again or  he still hasn’t fixed the upstairs toilet.  I have guy friends who are husbands who complain about not having sex enough times a week or whose wives nag them and spend all of their money on designer handbags. I am going to start asking, “So when are you getting a divorce?  Don’t you think it’s time you dropped that ball and chain! Be free!”  I would say all of this while playing the theme song from “Chariots of Fire” in the background.  Go ahead and get a picture of that in your mental.  If I were to say things like that to my married peeps, I would be told that I am way out of line and inappropriate.  “God hates divorce”.  “God’s covenant shouldn’t be broken.” Blah blah blah.  Yet it is okay for them to say things like that to me and make suggestions about a decision that would completely change my life.   I enjoy double standards.

I know that I am babbling but I have a point.  Somehow men and woman have been led to believe that having a spouse is some kind of status that is the equivalent of owning beach front property at the Hamptons or court-side seats at a Lakers’ game.  The reality is that being a husband or wife does not make one’s life better than someone who isn’t married. It is just a different way of life.  Not better.  Just different.  The offers to set me up and the inquiries about when I am going to push a nine pound person from my body come from people with good intentions.  I don’t believe that these are people who want to hurt my feelings.  However,  what married people and even single people who have been brainwashed to believe that married life is the only life that will make them happy are really saying when they offer to set you up with people is, “Your life isn’t good enough the way that it is.  Here, let me help you. You clearly don’t know what you are doing.”    This is me, an old potential cat lady, telling all of my friends who are both married and single to calm their nerves.  I am fine.  For those of my single friends who aren’t fine with their lives where they are and are succumbing to the pressure that society is putting on them by jumping into relationships that they have no business getting into, I have some suggestions for you to do to entertain yourselves and things that I would like for you to remember.

  1. Start doing awesome stuff by yourself.  I take myself on “me dates” every week. Sometimes I go on more than one date by myself.  Guys, I am the best date ever.  I don’t talk during a movie in a theater, I don’t pretend like I forgot my wallet so that someone else has to pay (because who else hates it when someone who is broke “forgets their wallet” or their credit card declines?) and I don’t expect to get lucky when the date is over so I don’t have to worry about having a pregnancy scare or taking the morning after pill.  I treat myself like a lady by opening doors for myself and buying myself flowers.  I go to a movie, I take myself to see a Broadway show, I go to amusement parks and people watch.  In fact every Sunday I have a me date.  I go to the earliest church service, I take myself to Cheesecake Factory to have delicious blueberry pancakes, and then I see a cheap movie at the AMC.  I sit quietly at a table and read a book, quietly judge parents who bring their children that misbehave in the restaurant or listen to a couple argue or have a deeply private discussion at their table.  I am nosey and a little judgmental.  This seems like it would be an obvious suggestion but I have been called a loser before for going into a restaurant alone and eating by myself.  But the chick that called me that was stuck at home in her apartment with ramen noodles and no friends.  #whosthelosernow
  2.  Travel Somewhere.  I recently discovered the beauty of frequent flyer miles.  I am racking them up to take impromptu trips to New York City and to visit my friends who live in other states.  I am also taking a trip to Spain next year! I am super pumped about that. Did you know that if you are married, your spouse doesn’t like for you to take vacations alone?  If you have kids, your vacation choices are probably going to be limited to Lego Land and Disney World where there are more obnoxious, screaming ankle biters stealing your joy and your peace.  And If you don’t like traveling alone and you don’t have any friends to travel with you or you don’t have the funds to travel, do you know who takes trips all of the time?  Your local church.  They have these things called mission trips.  You create a GoFund Me account and people will GIVE you money to take a trip. Plus you get to travel with other people who love the Lord so you won’t be alone.   Can you believe that? Disclaimer: You won’t be staying in a hotel and some knowledge about our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ is necessary. You might want to pick up a Bible or download a Bible App before you take this plunge.
  3. Take this time to work on yourself.  I have some pretty horrible habits that I know that a man isn’t going to appreciate.  I am not exactly the neatest person on the planet.  I am not a slob and I am not disgusting.  I am MESSY.   I  take off my clothes as soon as I walk through the door of my apartment and leave a trail of clothing from the door to my couch where I likely left my pajamas from the night before. I repeat this process each day when I get home.  At the end of the week, I have a full load of laundry to do and it is all in one place but not a laundry basket.  This is me being transparent, people.  I am working on not doing this anymore.  When I left the house this morning, there were only like five articles of clothing on the floor.  Progress.
  4. Divorce is Expensive.  I have a license to practice law.  I charge a $5,000.00 retainer and 250.00 an hour to watch you fight with the person that you chose in haste to marry over who gets the salt and pepper shakers and who is going to have primary custody of your pet ferret.  When that 5,000.00 retainer is gone, I ask for another 5,000.00.  Your retainer is funding my vacations.  If you feel like you have to pick the first person that asks you to marry them or the first woman that says yes because you are about to reach your expiration date or your eggs are hard boiling, remember that your expiration date comes when you die and if you still  bleed then you can breed.  You have lots of time and you don’t want to give your money away to me.  The repercussions of being in a hurry are expensive.
  5. Most married people want to be single again.  Let me say that again.  Most married people want to be single again.  I am just going to let you marinate on that for a second.  I know you might be saying, “But wait, Kim! I am happily married!”.  Good for you, Boo Bear.   The fact remains that if you give me  a dime for every time I have heard a man say, “I wish I had met you under different circumstances” or he tries to tell me that he is really unhappy and he and his wife are on the brink of divorce,  I would be able to hit up the Coach store every month with the money I earn from the thirst of the married dudes who are up to no good. I wouldn’t be shopping the clearance section either.   Upon hearing this foolishness from the sad married man,  I pray for him to the Patron Saint of Farewells.  #byefelicia

Note that I didn’t say that these are things to do and things to remember while you wait for “The One”.  These are things that I do and remember while I am living my life.  My life is pretty awesome.  So to my friends trying to hook me up and my family members who are trying (and failing) to put pressure on me to run out there and pick someone before I get too old to have a baby, please stop it! I ovulate dust anyway.  My biological clock does not have batteries.  Nothing solid and nothing that can weigh eight pounds or more is coming out of these lady parts anytime soon.  I am fine. Single friends, you are fine! Enjoy yourselves.   And the next time that one of your married friends asks you, “So don’t you want to get married and have some kids?”  Tell them, “Absolutely! It’s going to happen as soon as your divorce is final.” And then give him or her a big awkward wink.  Let me know what they say. *insert maniacal laughter here*