I discovered For the
Foxes in a rather “basic” way (Pandora’s BORNS station), but I am,
basically, fairly “basic,” so I guess that’s rather alright. I really
don’t even know why it’s considered a bad thing, anyway, to be “basic.” I
am aware the term is intended to be an insult, but by whom, and what is
so offensive to this particular snarky crew? There’s a punchy
competitiveness – and not relegated to females – I occasionally hear the
condescending cutes from men, too – and pressure to be unique and
individualistic. You know what, I’ll let Rihanna shine bright like a
diamond (I still am highly suspect about gross human rights grievances
and exploitation all for the sake of diamonds… “F” I digressed, again –
happens all the time). But, more to that in my next post…. See you tomorrow!


Dating App Fatigue | Video iChat with Coffee

Dating apps are no longer shiny new toys. Every site has an app and everyone on one app is on every other app, too. I completely relate to Drew Barymore’s dilemma in this scene from He’s Just Not That Into You. The dating app fatigue is real.

Truth. It is exhausting.

And, yikes.

And, this is why I’m single. Also why so many of my friends, are, too. Meanwhile, I’m thinking about cozying up with my Apple TV to stream  a certain chick flick – or a few – and get ready for a whole lot of left swipes.

dating app fatigue

dating app fatigue

Yesterday's Smarts

***This has been sitting, in draft form, since January 2014; it’s an open secret (such a secret that most people don’t know or have forgotten, altogether, I even have a blog.***

If I had to choose between smarty or party, the day was mostly smarty with a little bit of party. Work is so busy, I’m dizzy by the time the day comes to an end – I’d rather be busy than not enough work; I like to tell myself that’s good for job security (and with so many people I care for having gone through layoffs in recent months and years, that is a reality I’d rather not have be my own).

Physical therapy for my ankle, although is making hella strides in my progress and ability, largely sucks. Thank heaven these guys are not only good but are funny and lively; it makes the pain not such a pain. And they let me think I’m sneakily sneaking treats to the resident labs, Cali and Sailor. Like Pavlov, these pups expect those treats, now, when I arrive. But, this fantastic team of physical therapists are not only are helping me heal my ankle, I laugh and chat through the intense massages and mobility gains. 
I’ve wanted to see La Boheme ever since I fell in love with Rent 16 or 17 years ago…. Arizona Opera Company has produced a few times over the years, but I never had quite the right date to go with me. Something about the shit-show that has been the last few relationships (and even more depressing than my actual love life is the options available for to try new relationships) and epically bad dates, I made a choice last year to stop. Dating. Pretty much entirely (I’m not counting last Saturday’s dinner with the 25-year old cub a serious contender of a date). And I’m in that personal space where that’s what I need. As I explained to someone who was trying to understand my rationale, I continuously make bad relationship investments, and am on the verge of romantic bankruptcy.

So, I’m staring at my AZ Opera mailer with The Flying Dutchman, La Boheme, Traviata all of them teasing me! What could I do? Between double ballet tickets, double symphony season tickets (not that I have “dates” for any of these), I couldn’t budget a season of two opera tickets. Face it; it’s not the most fun feeling to get dressed up, drive yourself downtown, skip dinner, and go to Symphony Hall by yourself to swim in a sea of couples in their finer wear. But Mimi and Rodolpho, and their love affair in the snow filled night of Paris’s Latin Quarter beckoned me. The image of Mimi’s candle. Burned out, relit, and blown out again….. Sigh. So I did it. I bought my own damn ticket (again) and was going to be damned if I let myself miss another experience because I don’t have someone who is going to sit in the seat next to me.