Today I was nearly set up by my renter’s insurance agent. I don’t know if it’s a sign that this guy could be my soulmate or if I have become more pathetic and desperate than I thought. My stepmom has been trying to marry me off for years and now my insurance agent not only renewed my policy, but tried to offer me a date as a signing bonus. The question is, will that lower my premium?
While discussing my policy and a claim that I might have to file, she inquired about my age and location. I told her my age (which I won’t repeat here) and that I live in Chicago, and she immediately commented that her nephew, who works for Levy Restaurants, also is my age and works in Chicago. After an awkward pause she said, “he’s single too!” I laughed it off but then, my single-woman mind snapped and said to itself, hey maybe he wants to get a coffee?! The fact that my mind went there, shows that I’ve moved to Mach 2 on the desperation level. It has to be the holiday that does this to me and the inevitable parade of flowers that will come through my office in 48 hours. The thought of that parade makes me want to get a bottle of Chardonnay, cigarette and sing drunkingly along to “Love Stinks,” while giving happy, in love couples the finger.
I enjoy being single and find no shame in it, but I won’t lie, this time of year is tough. Fortunately my default Valentine, a.k.a. dad, will acknowledge me somehow. And that’s better than nothing. I might even have to treat myself to this adorable scarf to match the black outfit I will wear on Thursday to show that I don’t “care” that I won’t get flowers and a loving note from a boyfriend and that I might really be dead inside.
Check this out:
Today I stumbled upon a hilarious funny blog from striking WGA writer, Ken Levine. I recommend checking out the list of thing he'll miss from the strike, including "incessent honking," which he felt was like "driving in Mexico City." There are also funny bits from his recent trip to visit his daughter at Northwestern and the snow that blanketed Chicago.
Burt's Bees Lip Balm review:
I have been a Chapstick-loyal consumer for years. The sweet smell of strawberry Chapstick was always, always with me, in pocket, purse or clutch. But an old article in the RedEye commented that Chapstick loyalists, like me, should try the Burt's Bees lip balm, calling it a more "mature" and "adult" choice.
I never associated Chapstick itself with "youth," but I figured, what the heck. So today was Burt's Bees balms' inaugural run on my lips and so far I feel mixed. The packaging calls it "Soothing. Cooling. Refreshing" and it definitely lives up to that, but my lips just don’t feel so…moisturized. My lips have a tingly, cool feeling, but I would not go so far to call it "refreshing" just yet. Perhaps in summer, when it's hot outside (compared to now), I'll feel more "refreshed" when using it, but for now, they haven’t been voted off Lip Balm Island.
Gym follow up:
I forgot to mention in yesterday's post about gym personalities the "high self-esteem" girl or guy at the gym. This is the person who wears inappropriately small amounts of gym clothes and should not do so. This could be because the clothes don't fit or support his/her body type, etc. A colleague of mine frequently comments about this personality at our gym because she is subjected to seeing a "high self esteem" girl at the gym at 7 a.m. "rocking" the elliptical with her butt cheeks hanging out. No one wants to see that at 7 a.m., or even at 5:30 p.m. when I get there.
My motto: high self esteem is a great thing, but sometimes you need to just be realistic. There is a difference between those things.