Filed under: im mad
So I keep getting up and putting on my smile and telling all the good stories and spending time with new interesting people. I stay active and involved and meet new people and try new things, but. but. but I don’t want to get up and I don’t want to tell the good stories and I don’t want to be active or – or – or. I just want to spend time with a myth. And I’m disgusted with my self-involvement and my pink shaded memories and I’m ready to want to do the things that I make myself do so I can move on.
It’s Friday for fucks sake and Friday is a good thing. I am reminded of a cure song. hahahaha. fuuuuuck. help. What a silly miserable thing. I am by myself betrayed.
Where is the vermouth? Also what is vermouth?
Shaken please,
MadLibby
Filed under: im mad
I wrote this a few months ago. I was in agony…
I’ve got to talk to somebody and I cannot afford a shrink, so that is why I’m doing this. And…no I don’t WANT to fight with her again. Over and over just running into that knife – what? It’s my fault, right. I keep running into it…but I’m not the knife! How can you blame me? Hmmm.
Now I have no clue who it is about. hahahahaha. Oh Libby, you’re a silly broad.
xoxo,
MadLibby
Filed under: im mad
Occasionally you will need help or direction. You will feel alone and like you might start crying in the middle of a dull conference call or painful yoga class. You have a few options…
1. drink whiskey
2. check out self- help blogs
3. write hate emails
4. look up the youtube from burning man of “oh the places you’ll go”
Good luck out there.
Remember – “If you let go a little, you will have a little peace. If you let go a lot, you will have a lot of peace.” Pretty sure that is from chicken soup for the future cat-owner’s soul, but I’ll take it.
xoxo,
MadLibby
Filed under: im mad
It’s a jungle out there. On the internet I mean. Sometimes it is nearly impossible to derive meaning from the profiles of possible suitors, so I have developed the following guideline to help you understand what kind of crazy expectations these ugg-os have for their lady friends.
1. He has pictures in a military uniform – He is poor and will beat you.
2. “I am active and want a woman who takes care of herself” – He’s a douchbag and you better be hot.
3. “I’m funny” – wrong
4. “I’m sarcastic” – he is a dick
5. “I’m very close with my family” – His mom breastfed him until he was 13
6. “I make $100,000+ a year” – seriously you put that?
It should be pretty clear at this point that people are lying out there. I am the only normal and decent person trying to find a super wealthy, tall, interesting man with a full head of hair, reasonable exercise schedule/vocabulary/interest in books and art, who wants to marry and support a funny, fake red-head with too many opinions and big thighs. How is this hard? It really shouldn’t be. Boys are such jerks.
xoxo,
MadLibby
Filed under: im mad
No SERIOUSLY. Girl – stop stalking. Stalking never gets you anywhere but in high blood-pressure/angry cajun town.
However, occasionally, you will be required to do a little stalking. And when you find some bad shit (you ALWAYS find bad shit) – you will call him. This will be a mistake. You will say D***Head I saw XYZ…then your neck will get real hot and your face will turn a touch red and you can say, “oh my this wine is making me hot.” But sister – no one will believe your dumb ass. You done stalked a D***Head and that don’t get you no where but trouble.
**Also – stalking turns you into Paula Dean and you suddenly want to cook something with bacon fat.
Anyway – back to it. DH will DENY said fuck up, even though you have clear evidence that he did xyANDz and will start to make you think maybe you had it all wrong. DO NOT BE MISLEAD. You are a diva – you know the truth. DH is a D***Head! Believe it. He will say some nice things sprinkled in with awful things. You will feel better and worse. You will feel stronger and wiser and more pathetic than before. You will want a manicure. You will take two advil and blog about it.
Then you will watch Friday Night Lights.
Tomorrow you will focus your yoga practice on self-love and you will blog about idiots on Match.com.
Tomorrow is another day.
night night,
MadLibby
Filed under: Uncategorized
or…sike? I dunno. I can’t do this! I’m putting clothes in the dryer and snotty tears drip down my face. I don’t even know what I’m feeling except ICK. boys are ick – and yet…<beats head against wall/fist against chest/spirit against the universe>. I can’t imagine kissing anyone – talking to anyone else even. Sheesh. This takes time. Tomorrow is another day…I will never go hungry again.
Are you there Lord? It’s me Libby…Oh…that is a great idea – Libby takes on the church and meets fabulous christian/jewish/hindu boys? Now we’re talking. Oh the tales of baptisms/briss/ummm what to Hindu’s do?
I’m so fucked.
So we broke up. Such is life, right? All good stories start at the ending…hmmm I’m terribly close to something brilliant I think I just need a few (dozen) more glasses of wine to really get it. What I realized is the seam that held us together was a mutual distaste for so many things. We hated the same kind of people (dumb ones, ones who mistakenly believed they were smart, fake people, overly genuine people, very unattractive/attractive people, etc.), the same kind of fashion, film, books, the list goes on. I’m not really sure what we liked and I’m still struggling with that. I only now realize that I held so closely to this better-than-ness that I am not sure where I am if not above another. There are loads of questions and blame on myself that I’m squishing into the closet of my brain – wide armed, panting, with big wild eyes terrified they might jump out and take over.
It is with the fear of a secretive negative thought hoarder that I bound forward into more life. Applying for new jobs, considering a big move, taking yoga, online dating…
Wait…?
Seriously? Yes…dear readers – yes. Oh and it will be an adventure. It is why I’m back here – after only hours on a website. I realized this activity is far too rich with hilarity not to share. MadLibby does the web. Literally…figuratively…?
The end of 2011 and the beginning of my voyeuristic journey into judging humans based on less than 4000 characters and 6 or so of their best photos.
Wish me luck/hold my hand.
Xoxo,
madlibby
Filed under: im mad
this story was requested by a friend, i hope you like it too…
Filed under: you're mad
dear CEO of _______,
i want to let you in on a little secret. there are a lot of people around here running up and down the halls, printing documents, filling coffee mugs with free soda and drinking those bottles of water (i have had 3 so far today). these people, your employees, look very busy and i suppose some of them are, but the rest of us have NOTHING to do and we would like to go home. its nice outside and i would like to sit out by the pool maybe read a book or a trashy magazine.
sure, i’ll check my email and if you need me to respond i can even do that, but please just let me go home. the pattern on my back of my legs from the chair i have been sitting on is taking longer and longer to fade each day and i actually think im getting stupider (yes, i just said stupider…see?).
thank you for your kind consideration of this memo.
cheers,
libby
Filed under: im mad
ok, so if you are a hairdresser and having a bad day makes you cut BAD hair, then on your “bad days” do not come into work, act like you aren’t sad until the cut is over and THEN proceed to tell me how being married to your husband makes you feel like you are trapped in a cage of “grayness” and that your aura is losing all its “yellow wonder.”
i might be going out on a limb here, but i don’t think having a punk rock/80′s broadcast journalist wig as my new hairstyle is really making me look sexy, but thanks for the in-genuine compliment lady…and yes, i did cut two AND A HALF inches off the back, but that was only so i would not be starting a one girl revolution to bring back the FEMULLET.
sorry that being married sucks, but i better go–me and my long carol-brady-do are going to hide under our desk and drink from a flask.
