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Neurotic As Hell

Choosing Figs Blog

Last year I dated a cat guy. This guy loved cats as much as I did, probably even more so because he actually had a cat while I just admired them from afar. He volunteered at a cat shelter and we'd exchange texts about reality TV kittens. He didn't even think I was a weirdo for suggesting a date to see Kedi, a documentary about the cats in Istanbul. And it really was the best date. But he never actually introduced me to his cat (we'd always end up at my place), and, eventually, we parted ways. It's all good, though....

Last week I turned thirty seven and thirty seven is almost forty and I don't know how I feel about that. OK so maybe thirty seven isn't almost forty. But it is almost almost forty. It's tipping the line from mid-thirties into late. It's getting there. And, maybe, I do know how I feel about turning thirty seven. I don't like it. I don't like it at all.   [caption id="attachment_56023" align="aligncenter" width="1400"] Age is just a number that makes you feel bad about yourself because fuck you're old.[/caption]   To say I haven't been taking this birthday well might just be an understatement. I've dreaded...

The first time I made pudding shots it was for my thirtieth birthday party (a party I dubbed "fit for an alcoholic six-year-old"). This was, mind you, in a time before Pinterest made pudding shots popular and all I had to go on was a hatred of jello, a crazy idea, and a prayer that mixing instant pudding with milk and alcohol would result in something somewhat edible. But they turned out more than edible, they were delicious, actually, and so I made them, from then on, every time I threw a birthday party. Last year I turned thirty-six and celebrated...

I knew I was fat when people stopped saying, "you're not fat," when I said I was fat. Maybe you know how it is. You know you've gained weight. Maybe you're ten pounds over what you wish you were. And you look in the mirror and think, "I'm so fat," even though, to everyone else, you look just the same as always. And so, when you say, "I'm fat," they all reply, "What are you talking about? You're not fat." But then you gain ten more pounds. And ten more. And ten more. And more. And then, somewhere along the way,...

This was the year that I quit. I quit everything. I quit guitar lessons. I quit salsa dancing. I quit my softball team. I quit relationships. I quit blogging. I guess that quit might be too a strong word. Stopped might be better. I stopped going. I stopped caring. I stopped showing up. I didn't purposely leave any of those things. I didn't yell, "I QUIT!" and storm off in a huff. There were no calculated decisions. No pros and cons lists. I just didn't have the energy to keep going. With anything. And so, I stopped. I spent most of the...

Whenever something is wrong with me, when I'm in pain or not feeling well for one reason or another, I do the best thing I can think to do for a remedy: I turn to Google. You do it too, I'm sure. Or at least you have at some point in your life. Type your symptoms into a search engine and BAM, instant diagnosis. Of course, nine out of ten times Google tells me that whatever is wrong with me is cancer. Headache? Cancer. Skin rash? Cancer. Fever? Fucking cancer. It's probably not cancer. It's probably just a cold. Or a stressful day...

What drinks do you think of when you think of the holidays? A warm mug of hot chocolate? A glass of mulled wine? A cup of hot buttered rum? A margarita? (I mean, to each their own, I guess.) Do you think of eggnog? Do you even like eggnog? I feel like it's one of those drinks you either love or you hate. And, I'm not going to lie: eggnog is one of those things that I can take or leave. I sometimes crave it come December but, usually, after one glass, I'm good for another year. And, usually, I don't go out and...

It's been about two months since I "finished" KonMari-ing my apartment. I put finished in quotes here because I'm technically not all the way through with my tidying. I still have a shelf full of photo albums and other mementos that I am getting through. Slowly. Those things, being the most sentimental of things, and of a pretty large category, will take a while still to sort. But those things are out of the way and not highly utilized. So. Whatever. But I finished tidying everything else. I went through every piece of clothing I owned, one by one. I went...

Growing up, we didn't have the internet. And so, Christmas shopping wasn't as easy as consulting a link to an Amazon wish list and pressing a one-click buy button. If you needed to go Christmas shopping (or, you know, shopping shopping) you had to get off your ass and go out into the cold and brave the overstuffed stores in the local mall. Online shopping just wasn't a thing that existed and making a Christmas list involved more than just clicking a little heart icon next to the product you wanted or creating a Pinterest board to send to your...