people and things.

I don’t know what I was expecting from hometown dates, but last night was sort of “bleh” with a whole lot of “meh” and very anticlimactic. To start off the trip, Raven brought Nick to Hoxie Arkansas. Go ahead… I’ll give you a minute to point out Hoxie on a map. Any takers? Where in God’s name is this place? Oh, wait… Arkansas. Raven seems like a good girl (who deserves better than Nick), but probably a little too much sweet southern naiveté will steer her in the wrong direction with this moron. They start out on ATVs and attempt to sneak up to this tower area where a police officer promptly arrives and breaks up the situation. Grain tower? Water tower? Is a grain tower a thing? Who knows, but as luck would have it, Raven’s big brother just so happened to be that police officer (I know, I know… we could have never imagined such shock and awe). After Raven’s brother drives away, the following 2-4 minutes include lots of mud, awkward undressing in mud, mud straddling, and just a very uncomfortable looking situation. I don’t know if they were trying to recreate the infamous clay scene from Ghost, but they did a very poor job.

Not to gloss over the racial significance of Rachel’s hometown visit, but they’ve already determined that she is the next Bachelorette. So… somewhere down the road this will end, thus we don’t really NEED to focus on anything that happened during his time with her family. They seemed like lovely people (as does Rachel), and all were concerned as to whether or not Nick had dated a black woman (he in fact has not… duh), but I’d already blocked out what their potential thoughts of him could be because we already know THIS WON’T LAST. I think the strangest thing to come of this date though, was when Rachel’s brother in law says, “you’re a white…”. Umm, yes, yes he is. Weirdo.

Corinne’s hometown date couldn’t have been more Corinne. The couple went shopping in an upscale mall in Miami, in which Nick in real life could never have afforded anything, so Corinne purchased things for him in an effort to show him her super powers – using her dad’s credit card. After the successful shopping excursion, Nick was able to finally meet Raquel…her nanny. I’m not going to lie, I feel as though Raquel’s gofundme page is even more relevant after last night’s episode. If I had to deal with these impossible people 24/7, pour her ridiculous mom wine, and pretend to love the dad’s nasty looking Greek olives, I’d give anything for charitable Americans to bust me out of said hellhole. Corinne’s dad taught Nick how to properly hold his scotch glass, Nick asked for Corinne’s father’s blessing (should they decide to get engaged), and they all lived happily ever after. Seriously. The end.

Just kidding. The very last stop occurs in Montreal. I think the only part of Canada that is worth any relevance to me would be Whistler, or Toronto (because maybe there would be potential to run into Drake) but, I guess Montreal will do. Vanessa takes Nick to her Nonna’s house. I think that bringing any guy home to a huge Italian family means you have confidence in the guy being able to accept said giant group of Italians. So, kudos to Vanessa for thinking this putz can hang, but he clearly cannot. My disgust was at an all-time high when I had to listen to Vanessa pronounce things in Italian with a Canadian accent (barf). Additionally, for an Italian taking someone to Nonna’s for Sunday Lunch, I really didn’t see that much food (not kidding… step up your game fake Canadian-Italians). My favorite part occurred when Nick failed to adequately answer any of Vanessa’s parents’ questions.

“Why do you like my daughter?”

“Well, when she first stepped out of the limo…”

“No, I don’t mean looks!”

Oy. Things just get worst when  Nick meets the father. I mean, I didn’t think it was good at Nonna’s, and dad was just a strange, restingbitchface type of individual who I can see is struggling to find the English words for his thoughts and feelings. Dad, however, was able to manage the 64 thousand dollar question, “Did you ask all the other fathers for their blessings” (and that answer was…yes.  Come on.) I think Mr. Vanessa’s dad doesn’t really know how this whole Bachelor thing works. It’s standard protocol here to ask while you have the fathers in front of you. It’s standard life protocol really, to ask the father… except the guy usually isn’t dating a bunch of other chicks simultaneously. Oops.

I feel like no matter what we do, our pets catch on. They are these odd little internal magnifying glasses to our soul that see through all of the bullshit. They know when we hurt. Lulu especially the past few days has been such a loving girl. She gets it. I’ve had nothing but cuddles, and love, and when I want to hold her so close…she just stays (this is SUPER out of character for this girl)…

Back story:

A lady in my complex who had constantly asked me whenever we’d see her “when can I have a dog like yours” exchanged numbers with me when I found out Lulu’s parents had created another litter. She couldn’t have been more excited. For an older lady, I received non stop calls and text messages, and she seemed as though she could not wait to get this dog (a really adorably cute one, at that). Once she got the puppy, she lasted less than 48 hours with the dog until she took her to the pound without communicating this to me. To make matters worse, today I received a text from this woman who lied about the entire story, and after catching her in a lie, lied again. I can’t. I have so many regrets, I could have adopted the puppy… it’s over but it’s insane to me that people don’t think about the downside of adopting an animal prior to doing so. 

Front story:

I’m sad about the puppy/worried about her/she looks JUST like Lulu did and I couldn’t imagine Lu in a situation like that (I know I’m super overprotective of her and spoil the crap out of her…but still). Today has been two years since my friend, old roommate, best smack talker I’d ever met passed away. Losing someone is so strange. I spoke to him earlier today and asked him a question I won’t repeat (Jon, you probably will read this and laugh…but I did want to know that answer). I asked him to flicker the lights for a “yes”… but maybe it’s a yes and you don’t want to admit it. I think that somehow, he’s made my dog HATE everyone that knocks on the door so that I HAVE to answer the door (he always thought I was insane for being afraid to do so). I drove by his favorite restaurant today on the way to a store because the nearest ones to me were out of what I needed. I drove by his work when it was completely out of way and I’d never actually do that, but was on the way to where I needed to go. Jon would leave me the best notes on our whiteboard, he loved The League, bacon, cooking, and Dogsfishhead beer. He hated vegans (except for me), Pepsi, and had this way of making EVERYONE he met like him. It seems unfair that someone who I feel actually made the world a better place is gone. How does that happen?

Thanks for making sure I’ve tried Phil’s. Thank you for forcing me to answer the front door (I know that’s all you). Thank you for giving me those subtle Jonathon reminders I needed after a week like this. It’s actually what I imagined you’d tell me about this dog lady that made me laugh and shrug it off instead of totally losing my mind on her. 

Stay close, friend. 

What a crazy couple of days both politically (OK, weeks…) and personally speaking (my business travel schedule for the upcoming weeks is a little overwhelming). I just keep playing in my head “let’s just stand in a circle around our shoes and our pocketbooks
and just dance” (if you don’t know Dane Cook, feel free to never read this blog again because he’ll come up… numerous times) and shit just keeps getting tossed in the way. Imagine yourself and your band of girlfriends get on the dance floor and said shoes and pocketbooks are tossed into the middle of the circle, and you’re dancing around them, and then a fucking asteroid lands in the middle of your favorite clutch and new heels. Bam. Gone. Burning ball of fire, lava, etc., encompasses your favorite accessories and you immediately regret going out. Is it bad that I have an actual fear of that? Not of an asteroid, but that I’ll take a favorite wardrobe piece and wear it out and something awful will happen to it? Sometimes I feel like my life just exists with these unexplainable fears, and I don’t really address them because I know they’re ridiculous… but they’re just there?

So maybe things aren’t that bad… or bad at all, just busy with no signs of slowing down a bit. Unfortunately I haven’t had a ton of time for multiple gym sessions/ day, trying out new clean eating recipes, and so on… but I know I need to make more of an effort on my end. In addition, I feel as though this is definitely a creative outlet for myself that I have sort of neglected and I am feeling that neglect.

I think they most important thing to remember is that your health and mental wellness should be of utmost priority to all of us. Everyone is busy. Sometimes, I feel as though explaining how “busy” you are is somehow like a pissing contest. Who has gone to the most meetings, the most hours put in at the office, or who has the least work/life balance is the winner. Why? Being busy does not make you a better employee, or better individual. In fact, taking care of yourself and making sure that your health and well-being are ranked #1 will make it easier to prioritize at the office. If you don’t believe me, then at least take some advice from Michael Scott: