single with vodkagood girl gone bad

so it’s finally come to this: i can no longer stand the sight of myself naked.

i am trying to lose a few pounds by substituting some meals with those powdered protein shakes. i was worried i wouldn’t like the taste, but it turns out they are delicious once you add the vodka.

i have yet to own a car whose side view mirrors i didn’t scrape against the side of the garage. it must be genetic or we are 1/32 asian, because there has never been one car owned by a woman in my family that does not have white paint marks along the sides. when a new car pulls into the garage for the first time, it’s never a question of if this one will get scraped against the side, but when. this is the core reason of why we lease our cars instead of buy – we need a fresh one after 3 years. did you know those mirrors contain over 76 parts & cost a fortune to repair? and if the mirror gets fully lopped off  – it  will set you back about 600 clams to replace which means you will probably just decide to give up vision on that side completely. of all the brilliant technological advancements in car features, i don’t understand why they can’t put a sensor on the damn mirrors that makes them automatically fold in when you get too close to something. i would gladly pay for it as an upgrade. “ma’am would you like to add the no-depth perception option?” “you had me at no-depth.”

you know that beer commercial where they advertise “drinkability?” that is ridiculous, all liquids by definition are drinkable. now if you tell me you can make a steak drinkable, then i just may be impressed.

i wish i had been born a WASP – it’s my fantasy to be in a family that solves all of its problems by drinking instead of talking.

those awful parents on reality shows have a camera on them at all times and that is the best they can do? what the hell are they like when no one is watching? if i had a camera on me all the time, i would be the best mommy ever.

cutting my finger nails too short makes picking my nose extremely difficult. cutting my toenails too short makes me feel oddly exposed.

the best thing to ever happen to my marriage was the divorce.

more random items found while packing: my original dymo label maker from when i was 10, ashes of my 2 dead cats,  & band aids from my kids’ immunizations (ewwww).

i absolutely love a pack of new white socks. so bright & full of promise. “i am definitely going to keep these white this time. i will bleach them with every washing.” sure.

listen up hong kong phooey, unless you’re an israeli soldier training in krav maga for actual combat, suburban white dudes doing “martial arts,” are a.) wimps who got beaten up as kids and still haven’t gotten over it or  b.) just plain tools. since we don’t live in feudal japan, bowing into your sensei in the produce section is just plain queer & horrifyingly embarrassing to those with you, especially your children. and vegas odds say you will still get your black belt wrapped around your neck while kung fu fighting in an actual street fight. but by all means, try it out & prove me wrong.

so i guess you know the new motorolla backflip commercial really resonates with me: “this just in: a local bachelor age 41 just enrolled in ka-ra-tay.”

i realized i had not been drinking enough water lately – so i started using it as my only mixer.

i plan my showers around not showering: i showered this afternoon, so i wouldn’t have to get up early to shower for work tomorrow. also, i would rather be clean for dinner tonight, than for work tomorrow. see how that works? it’s very calculated – being filthy actually still requires a lot of planning.

i don’t see life through rose colored glasses – they’re pinot noir colored.

out with some friends the other night, i simultaneously burped & farted. my pal said, “all you needed was a snort for the trifecta.” it’s so good to have new goals.

if it seems like i don’t care – you’re right.

at work the other day i was making sure a new can of paint matched the old paint a customer brought in; but the new wet sample had to be dry to be sure it was a perfect match. while i stood over it with the hair dryer, it occurred to me that i was literally watching paint dry.

i heard there is this new trend for women in the workplace called, “makeup free monday.” i am following a trend too, it’s called, “no fucking way anyday.”

so i am seeing a new therapist now. you may know him: Dr. Schmirnoff.

after the 19 total years of the dating, the bad marriage, & the inevitable divorce, i just don’t wanna talk anymore. it’s like the seinfeld episode where jerry asks elaine if she wants to go the diner, and she replies, “i’ll go if i don’t have to talk.”  i may consider marriage again if i don’t have to talk.

i think sleeping with guys who have tiny dicks is okay – but only in your 20′s – you know, as starter penises. training weiners so to speak.

i just learned that carbohydrate addiction can lead to alcoholism which means i am doubly fucked – i like to overindulge in carbs while drinking too much.

i am a pain in the ass, but big boobs make up for a multitude of sins…

women, we must band together to stop LDP: Long Distance Penis. you do not need to travel for dick. you have the vagina: the penis will come to you.

an unanticipated benefit of divorce: you can tell your ex-monster in law that you always thought she was a cunt.

you know the show snapped on the oxygen channel about women who kill their husbands? emmy material in my opinion.

while i am on the subject of women who kill their men and the vicarious thrill these stories provide- i wonder how many were pmsing at that moment when they made that final decision. or was it just after the 400th time she had her pants around her ankles and saw that he left an empty toilet paper roll?

my water tasted odd and then i realized why – no vodka in it.

no wonder why my marriage failed: he was a Type Asshole personality and i was a Type Bitch.

guys want to know why they always have to be the ones to buy the drinks. the answer is simple: those who wear the pants you want to get into get their drinks for free. guys, you are still coming out ahead – literally.

i saw a dude wearing a t-shirt that was from a seafood restaurant that said: Love, Peace & Crabs.  (or was it a cathouse?)  i first read it as Love, Peace & CARBS. it’s my new motto.

so in the paint department, paint rollers are categorized by size and nap. for instance, 9 inch semi-rough, 7 inch semi smooth, 4 inch ultra smooth. do i have to explain why i have a hard time recommending rollers to anybody with a straight face?

the asshat had a tantrum the other morning & removed the access cards from all of the dvrs. my first thought was, i can just watch tv on this new-fangled thing the kids call the internet and that is exactly what i did. but after the girls got home from school, fear set in – what the hell was i going to do without the tv? actually play with my kids? pay attention to them for more than 15 minutes? play, oh the horror of it, games? or worse - barbies? in discussing this latest jackassery with my pal, she said, “he removed the dvr cards? that is just child abuse. he can’t withhold icarly.”

i have realized that you don’t need to be the biggest fish in the pond. you just need to be the smartest fish. plus knowing the right sharks doesn’t hurt.

some people buy their vodka by brand name. some people buy their wine by the country of origin or region. i just look for the highest alcohol content in the cheapest bottle & call it a day.

the way i see it, grapes have 2 options in life: they can be like the caterpillar in the chrysalis & emerge a beautiful new bottle of wine, or they can just stick with the the bunch until the life gets sucked out of them and they become raisins trapped in a tiny box. not that different from women, really.

new bumper sticker: life is too short to date douchebags.

every time i think i want to get back into the dating pool, i dip a toe in and realize it’s not properly chlorinated. kind of like white trash water parks, but dirtier.

so the home stager left a full bottle of wine here as a prop. that lasted 12 hours. i told her to add it o my bill…she has no idea who she is dealing with.

if age is really just a number, then i pick pi.

can anyone explain the scarf over the tank top look  in the summer? there is no way my brain can make this work.

stop asking us to cut & paste your e-chain letter messages about sick children, save an owl day, & missing puppies in our facebook status, instead, put this in your status: support an aspiring brilliant writer who is putting her life back together. subscribe to singlewithvodka.com. it’s a much better cause.  and don’t forget to mention the fan page... (it’s followed mostly by russian mail order brides that have misinterpreted the meaning of single with vodka entirely).

xoxox

yours in vodka,

the gggb