Archive | August, 2012

You asked for it….

27 Aug

“Yes. It is true. I, Michael Scott, am signing up with an online dating service. Thousands of people have done it, and I am going to do it. I need a username, and… I have a great one. “Little Kid Lover.” That way people will know exactly where my priorities are at.”

I decided to dedicate a post to my awesome online dating messages

From Bored_Gamer. This gentlemen and I had been messaging back and forth. I finally told him my name (Ali) and even put my name at the end of my last message. His response was this:

Hi Carrie,

I’m running all over tomorrow and I’m not sure when I will be done with work. I think Thursday will work and meeting in the middle sounds fine. Sorry I can’t be more definite, I’m working on a dificult part of this project and get called all over the place. I will write you tomorrow when I’m sure about Thursday. Any place in mind?


I’m sorry. But how the hell does one get Carrie from my name? Perhaps he was thinking he was talking to another lady on Ok or something but I decided to respectfully decline meeting him.


From Scooby_S – 90% Enemy, 0% Friend, 10% Match

Hey! =) Id love to know more about you! You have a great smile! You sound like a wonderful women…I used to live in Elk grove…I wnet to school there… Hope to talk to you soon!


From jr242

“Sweetheart your gorgeous.”

I am sure people are wondering why I thought these needed to be on my list of ridiculous messages but those who know me should understand why it made the list right away.


 Randomly one night I received a message from a dude with the username ml643. This is all he wrote. “Hey. How are you tonight?” I decided to creep on his profile to see what this dude was all about and this is what I got:

“So, I’m a 30 year old separated guy in Chicago for business. I’m interested in meeting a nice, sexy and uninhibited woman for a short term fling while I’m here. I travel to the Chicago area pretty frequently, so if the connection is there, I might be open to something ongoing.”

WTF. No where in my profile does it say I want a short term fling or have casual sex with anyone nor has it ever said that.


From Onemoveahead. Even though I had posted this little number on Middlest’s wall, I needed to include it in this post. It’s ridiculous. He no longer has an account therefore I was unable to grab a photo of him wearing a lovely cheese head hat.

 Hi. I’m Big Mike. You have a sick profile and an even sicker smile!

I propose 6 unthinkable options for your viewing pleasure at the very least. Each option provides untold pain and misery should you choose to embark:

1. We can take things slow and have a Q&A session over a few “get to know you” e-mails before meeting.

2. We can shift into 2nd gear, trade digits, and exchange hundreds of texts for a conversation that would’ve taken 30 minutes had we just talked.

3. If you want to skip the foreplay, we could meet within the next couple days for drinks or dinner and embrace each others’ awesomeness.

4. If you think you have a pair, we could shift into max gear and I could throw you into a sea of passion, rip off all your clothes, explore your body and make love to you like no other man would [NOT RECOMMENDED – JUST PUTTING IT OUT THERE].

5. If none of my options entice you or if number 4 drew a cold blank stare, you’re free to tell me to go violate myself with a number of objects.

6. We can grab my balls and whack them….on the tennis court.

Why should I have all the fun? Feel free to add your own options or combine some of mine.

Big Mike


Toogoodmaybe 21% Enemy 81% Friend 58% Match

I have no clue what the hell I was thinking, but I gave him my number. While at work, he left me a voicemail:

“Hey Ali. This is John giving you a call again. I noticed that you had clicked on my profile again but you never picked up the phone to call me back…Sooo this is me telling you that I promise I am way more fun to kiss in real life than to imagine it. So give me a call.”



Here are some one-liners for your reading enjoyment…..


“UUGH! Why does beauty have to be so far away?”



38% Enemy 59% Friend 52% Match

“im very intersted in u”





Football 1721            60% Enemy 29% Friend 21% Match

“You look wild.”

Really? Do I really look wild? FYI, this was my picture at the time:

Really? How does this make me look wild?


Playbigg  92% Enemy 0% Friend 0% Match

“Wow…you’re gorgeous. Any interest in younger guys………?”

Curious as to how “young” this dude was, I creeped on his profile to find out this young whipper snapper was 18. Fucking 18. As much as I have been known to like the younger guys and am fan of Nick Jonas (who is 19) and the Biebs (who is 18), I just found it to be a bit young for me. Perhaps he was looking for a sugar mama but if he would have read my profile he would see that I am social worker and make diddly squat. However, with a profile pic of this I know that I will be regretting my decision later on.

 An image of playbigg

From alexdel9355

“So your from the u.p. hu? I have friends from there they call me a fib if you know what it means laugh out loud ! if you dont message me i wont bite promise.”


From runner211600 38% Enemy 37% Friend 39% Match

“Ever done a threesome?”

His profile had photos of him and his girlfriend. Both were looking for a good looking, nice girl to suit their needs….

From yourmom132

“hey there;) want to have some fun tonight??”

He messaged the same thing twice to me.


From ilovelattemocha

“Hi, I have come across your profile on this site and really intrigued by it. I have got an offer and wondering if you would be interested in hearing it. This is a relevant offer. So let me know either way :)”


From JoeSmoo2000

“your smoken hot. marry me please.”


From latenight91607

“Damn you are gorgeous…i am in town this weekend…

Care to be my dinner date tonight…Rafeael


From jrfpok

“God damn you’re sexy. Want to hook up?”


After living in EGV for a little under a year, my good friend Nick told me that he recently joined OkCupid and suggested I give it a try. Since it was free and I did not have anything to lose, I decided to give it a whirl. Well, readers, let me tell you…It’s been a very “interesting” experience to say the least. As most of you know, I did not date much in high school or college so dating in general was/still is all new to me. Since I have been on OkC I have met and gone out with several nice guys along with several douchebags (though at the time I thought they were ‘nice’). Those who were nice I continued to make ‘appointments’ with to see if anything would progress…But no cigar. There were several times where I thought it was all hunky-dory but in reality they were the ones not interested…And boy oh boy does rejection suck. Praise Jesus I have Middlest, Youngest, and awesome friends who let me bitch/vent/cry/bitch some more about it.

Anyhoo, with that said I believe I am going to ‘dAlete’ my OkC profile soon and give a whirl at paying for love. I mean come on, who wouldn’t want to date a face like this???


XxX –



Middlest Does It Herself: Scented Plug-Ins

26 Aug

Yankee Candles; Bath & Body Works Wallflowers; Airwick Air Fresheners; Oh, my! Do you smell what I’m stepping in, readers? Okay, I’ll just tell you: Not much makes me more home-y happy than walking into a scented room.

Perusing through Pinterest has become a fun little hobby of mine. Once upon a time I would only pin and then neglect my findings. Sure, I would try some fun nail designs and a few recipes here and there, but actually doing my “DIY” pins was nearly non-existent. And then it hit me: doing nothing with these pins was a large waste of my time.

I have been waiting to do this easy project for quite some time. Why? Because on an impulse I purchased a large amount of Wallflower Plug-Ins from a Bath & Body Works Outlet Store nearly a year ago. Sassy Middlest. I have been saving these empty containers and wicks for a year. Youngest, without my knowledge, threw half of them out. Nothing grinds my gears more than a sister not into my projects. Sigh. Anyway, as penance for my sassy impulse purchases, I vowed to use all of my hoarded Wallflowers before trying this neat project. This penance made me feel like I was in Catholic school again.

I made these suckers several weeks ago. I love, love, love them. Because I am a frugal sonuvagun, I proceeded on the side of caution and only picked up two types of oils for this project. I’m not wasting money on something that may not work.

Here’s the process. It’s so simple I may cry.

1. Remove wick from Wallflower. Just as I was taught by my guy friends in high school, DO NOT USE YOUR TEETH. I chipped my bottom tooth doing this. Simply use a butter knife. It’s totally not worth a visit to the dentist, friends.

2. Swish containers in hot, soapy water and rinse clean. It is recommended to do the same with the wicks and allow them to dry overnight, but I didn’t because I’m too impatient. I just let everything dry for a solid 10 minutes. So impatient.

3. Fill containers; preferably oil specifically made for warmers. I filled them all the way to about ½” from the top, as I like scents to smack me in the face when I walk into a room. If you prefer a light scent, I would recommend a 1/3 oil to 2/3 water or a half-and-half ratio.

4. Put the wick back in the container.

5. Screw into plug-in.

6. Enjoy scented goodness.

Gosh, this is so easy I am embarrassed that I didn’t think of it myself.

Not convinced? Ok. Check out the costs.

Reusable containers: FREE
Fragrance oil: $5 for 5 fluid ounces
Yields: 6 completely filled Wallflowers.
Wallflower Refills: 1 for $6.50; 4 for $20; 6 for $24. Guh-Ross.

Review: This does the trick. I walk into a room and smell Linen or Rosemary Mint, which is absolutely delightful. Even Youngest loves this. She is now saving her containers for future filling. Win-Win.

Pick your jaw up from the floor, folks. I love it, too. Now if only I could make my own candles that compare to Yankee Candle. Doubtful, that shit is like scented crack; nothing will ever beat a Yankee Candle.


Middlest Does It Herself: Laundry Detergent

21 Aug

Laundry. Good riddens I hate doing the laundry. I would much rather pluck my pubic hair than spend a day cleaning clothes. Yes, I know what plucking pubic hair feels like; I was in puberty-denial for a solid 2 months as an adolescent. Too much too soon? Ok, you win. I would much rather pluck knee hair than do laundry (which is more painful than pulling crotch hair, but I digress).

What is it about laundry that makes me so ticked? A few reasons. Please see list below:

  1. Gathering. Actually this is easy to do. I am very good at this. Throw clothing into cute laundry basket and let it pile up.
  2. Sorting. Alright, I can do this. My organizational skills thrive in this environment. Turning clothes inside out is a bit of a pain but manageable, nonetheless.
  3. Transfer to washer. Wow, I guess I don’t know what the fuss is all about? I don’t mind doing this. Cold water, soap, and swish-swish. Good stuff.
  4. Waiting for load to wash.  I am antsy by nature and quite forgetful. Finding something to do in the meantime is easy, but remembering to take laundry out of the machine is a hassle. Luckily this does not happen too often. I had one stinky load from forgetting, so my heightened senses are ultra alert during this step.
  5. Drying:
    5a. Transfer to dryer. Easy and doable (that’s what she said…or he). I love the smell of fresh laundry donned from the washer. Remembering a laundry sheet is quite the battle for me, so I get ultra peeved when I get static at the end of this process. Please see bullet 7.
    5b. Transfer to drying racks. This is my preferred method for scrubs and my “nice” clothing. I actually enjoy this because it gives me a good reason to not finish the laundry during laundry day. Procrastination at its finest!
  6. Waiting some more. Need I say more?!
  7. Remembering to empty dryer. I am awful at this step. I cannot even begin to tell you how many times I have opened the dryer and cursed because I forgot to unload the dryer the week prior. “Must be nice to have enough clothes to last between washes.” Back off; I still have clothing from high school. And then there’s the moment when I’m getting zapped from static because I forgot to use a laundry sheet. Many bombs have been cursed at this point.
  8. Folding Laundry. Very relaxing, but it takes me back to my years working in retail. I worked a good portion of my high school years in the clothing departments at Kmart. Initially I loved sorting, folding, organizing, and putting clothing away because it was very productive and instantly gratifying. And then two hours later it looked like I sat on my ass the entire shift. About a year of constantly refolding clothing an hour before closing made me despise customers immensely.
  9. PUTTING LAUNDRY AWAY. And here’s the motherload, friends. Blech. I hate this part. I am also very slow in this process. My closet is sorted by color, sleeve lengths, and all clothing items must be “facing” the correct way. I have seriously caught Youngest messing with my closet. It’s quite thrilling to sense when something is out of place. Again, I blame Kmart for this. I have offended plenty of family members by “re-doing” their efforts in folding my laundry. My anal tendencies are what make laundry so awful. “So Meghan…what you’re saying is that it’s your fault you hate laundry?” Precisely. Good observation, readers.

So where am I going with this posting, you ask? A few weeks ago I went to go pick up some laundry detergent & softener at the store. I don’t know if I was financially blind before, but I looked at the pricing of laundry detergent and got instantly pissed. I distinctively remember saying, “are you fucking kidding me?!” in aisle 5 of the local Kmart [Blue Light for Life]. During my cursing tantrum I glanced at a box of Borax on the shelf and had a light-bulb moment: my friend CoraL makes her own detergent! A quick phone call was made and I retrieved the recipe linked below. Hey, if I am going to do something that I hate, I may as well do it as cheap and fun as possible. Making stuff from scratch is v. enjoyable and the satisfaction of saving my pretty pennies ought to make laundry much more tolerable.

CoraL’s Homemade Laundry Detergent [Word Document for easy printing!]

Basically you process bar soap, Borax, and Wash Soap. It’s so simple, it’s stupid. 

Borax: $4.45 for a 4lb box
Wash Soap: $3.29 for a 3.4 lb box
Bar Soap: $3.99 for 10 bars
Total: $11.73
Lasts: 6 months (with a remainder of 6 bar soaps and enough Borax/Wash Soap for about 1½ years of homemade detergent)

The Gain detergent that I usually buy is $15.99 and it definitely doesn’t last 6 months. I call this a win.

And of course before I blogged about this, I had to do a couple weeks worth of laundry to see how this stuff works. My review: It’s awesome. The ivory soap leaves a light, delightful scent. The detergent is potent enough to get out pesky stains (like blood, baby formula, spit, urine, sweat, etc.) from my scrubs and trustworthy enough for my dresses and delicates. Towels and sheets clean great. Note: I haven’t had to get out grease with this yet, an update is sure to follow.

So there ya have it. I made laundry detergent all by myself. My mother’s great grand-mother would be proud.


Quirky thoughts from Sweet Lorraine. <3

13 Aug
In honor of Lorraine’s birthday (which was on Saturday), I have decided to dedicate a post of the sh*t she says to me on a daily basis. Happy Monday. Hope you followers don’t have the case of the Mondays like I am, Blah! Continue reading

Youngest’s Guide to Small Talk – Parte Uno

7 Aug

Awkward moments.  Yes!  We are all faced with awkward moments at work and social settings where we are required to make ‘small talk’ with those whom we do not know that well, sometimes at all!  Now and again, we are lucky enough to encounter one who is talkative and interesting, for which small talk is a breeze.

At times, creating small talk can be uncomfortable, silent, or just plain terrible.  Getting to know an unfamiliar face not only involves verbal communication, but non-verbal cues as well.  Are your eyes looking away or pointing down whilst conversing?  Are your arms crossed, eyes rolled, or are you nervously twirling your hair out of discomfort? Are you stuttering, voicing fragments, or losing your train of thought mid-conversation?   Appearing uncomfortable when you are uncomfortable makes these situations, well, uncomfortable for everyone. 

Fortunately, I engage in ‘small talk’ with a half-to-a dozen of people on a typical work day; whether they are with patient’s I have developed a rapport with, or with someone fresh from the crop.  In most social situations, I can spark conversation with almost anyone I meet.  At times, I can read one’s body language and his/her response to my questions if he/she is into getting to know me.  Although typically uncommon, it is essential for one to be able to recognize the cues on when to end a conversation with an uninterested partner.  Do not be upset when this happens, you fascinating and sexy beast – just because a stranger is not interested in getting to know you does not mean you lack greatness.  Move on and be remarkable!

Today, I will be focusing on five basic topics I try to avoid when starting a conversation with an acquaintance or someone new.  I feel this could be very useful in a social setting, a date, or  in the work place.

Nothing screams ‘I’m really uncomfortable’ when initiate conversation involving the weather. I do not care if it is 107º in January or a blizzard in the summer.  This topic is a conversation continuer, not a starter.  If you are a meteorologist speaking to another meteorologist, by all means, you are the exception to my numero uno rulo. For the rest of us non-weather professionals, just casually integrate this subject later in the conversation.

Yes, your snot-nosed kids are adorable as hell and they do funny shit.  But please, do not try to kindle a new friendship by showing your new bestie videos of your kid riding their bike, photos of them donning a fireman suit, or posing pretty on Easter Sunday.  Pets are also included within this category – unless if they are riding their bike, then by all means show me more!

You hate your job.  We all do.  Calling your boss an asshole or elaborating on how underpaid you are does not make me want to buy you a shot or ‘friend’ you on Facebook.  If you are talking with established acquaintances, you have a 5-minute window to vent about how shitty your day is.  This is a rule that middlest has applied to my own professional life. Have an egg timer ready, but sure to read your audience.  Sometimes five minutes is five minutes too many!

This includes your hatred towards your ex lovers, how much alcohol you consumed the night prior (grow up), and intimate details on your previous sex partners.  No one cares about that shit when they are trying to get to know you for the first time.

Stop. Just stop it.  Put your ego aside and make the conversation field even.  Nothing screams insecurity and trying too hard when you excessively talk about yourself.  Stop!

On the contrary, do not avoid talking about yourself completely.  It is more uncomfortable when the other party is unwilling to cooperate with the conversation.  This is a two way street, people!

Personal Tips:

  • Nothing is worse than repeating your name to a dozen people.  Always introduce yourself clearly, pronounce your name so everyone in the group can hear you, and shake hands, wave, or hug.  When used properly, hugging can be real cute.  You can throw people off by initiating a solid high-five to any new comers added to the conversation circle.  I don’t care what Daniel Tosh says, high-fiving will always be cool!
  • Be the first to ask questions, then you can control and guide the conversation to your comfort level.  Do not interview. I do not want to have sweaty hands upon meeting you.
  •  Always ask open-ended questions. Close-ended questions are a guaranteed conversation enders.
  • Don’t you DARE look at that text message mid-conversation. Put that phone down. Look up at the person you are conversing with, not at the floor.  Please, do not stare.  Staring can be creepy and embarrassing when one calls you out on it.
  • LISTEN.  Asking questions will be easier when you listen more and talk less. If you have a hunch that one is not listening to you as you are speaking, feel free to give them a pop quiz at the end of your very important statement.

Since we are on the topic of listening, one of my biggest panic moments are when you are in the middle of a story and only one person is paying attention.  Do you continue on, call attention to the crowd, or make up an exaggerated ending to your fairytale?  I have yet to master this awkward moment…


Middlest’s Dear Diary Moments: 1-3

1 Aug

Anyone who has spent a good amount of time with me knows that I like to coin fantastic events in one’s life as “Dear Diary Moments”. I have been asked, “Do you actually keep a diary?” The answer is no, my friends. As a fawn I remember sitting at my desk thinking to myself, “I know I am ‘supposed’ to do this. What girl doesn’t have a diary?” Reading my “diary” from my early years captures my recess fights [“Oh my gosh diary, Megan E and I got into a fight today. I HATE HER!”]. In my horrifying adolescent years I would write about fingering parties that occurred at boys’ homes — therefore my stubborn and very shy self willed to avoid middle school and high school relationships at all costs. And then one day I realized that I absolutely hated writing my feelings down and would much rather internalize any conflict that may arise in my life. I recognize that is not an appropriate coping skill, but that’s fine. Now “Dear Diary Moments” are always positive & never stressful because well, fuck it; I don’t like stress.

Middlest’s Dear Diary Moments
1. I was 16 and I finally attended my very first Jewel concert. Yes, I was a weird child/adolescent that willingly listened to a woman who wrote acoustic jams about relationships I could not possibly relate to. I went with a group of gals (bless their souls) and we were running late. I remember specifically not caring about missing the opener. Sigh, such “Foolish Games”. We eventually got to the concert and hit the last half of the opener who was Joe Firstman. This was the DDM, my friends. My life was forever changed from the barefoot singer-songwriter. He swooned my sexuality and tugged at my heartstrings with powerful lyrics and the energy he radiated from the piano. [[Edit: Please, PLEASE check out “War of Women” by Joe Firstman]] I fell in love with singer-songwriters and my musical preferences made an utter 180º turn. I went from adoring spoon-fed top 40 radio to actively scouring the World Wide Web for lyrics that brought (and still brings) shivers down my spine and tears to my dry eyes. I formed relationships with an entire music community. I have only met a handful of these men & women, but I value their friendships beyond justification. Searching and “reading” new music became a hobby that I still thoroughly enjoy today. And I get super pissy if I am late for an opener; you never know who you will discover! Sigh. Such a good “Dear Diary Moment”.

2. As a college student studying in a corn field that rests on the outskirts of one of the most dangerous cities in America, I had a “I give zero shits” attitude about what I wore to class or to the local Walmart. It was bad, folks. I was a caught violator of going out to Meijer in (hahaha) yoga pants, a nightie, and flips flops with a long cable-knit sweater in January. I wore sweatpants and hooded sweatshirts to class almost daily. “Dressing up” was considered wearing a tight-fit teeshirt and flared jeans. Over winter break my junior year I was speaking with my friend AllyB about how much more convenient this apparel was compared to “legit” dressing up. She simply, without judgment, compared cardigans to hooded sweatshirts: easy to throw on and presents oneself as much more “put together” than one who dons a hoodie. To this day I own about 20 cardigans that I can just “throw on”, feel comfortable, and not look like a complete schmuck.

3. “Meghan, you have to pay your dues. Your dream job isn’t going to just show up simply because you got a degree.” My mother is one remarkable woman. When I graduated college, I was a spazz. I applied to at least 300 jobs in women’s health during the span of my first year as an RN. I cursed at every automated rejection email that was sent to me within 15 minutes of applying to a job. Every time I vented to my mom acting like a frustrated, entitled brat she would simply say, “Keep going…you’re paying your dues.” And that was enough motivation to take any RN job that was thrown my way while continuously tweaking my “women’s health” resumes & cover letters and constantly applying to women’s health postings. Eventually I got to where I am now: in women’s health, specifically post-partum (50% of my ultimate dream job). Thinking back, I would love to tell newly graduated Meghan to calm the fuck down; you are going to learn more about nursing in your less than ideal jobs than you ever imagined. I may not be 100% in my dream job, but I know that I am “paying my dues” and by working hard I will get there one day. I am so much more calm now than then, which makes me a much more pleasing person to my family. Paying your dues – such good. fucking. advice.