So Many Tears, The Bachelorette and a Birthday Cake

Yesterday was a weird day for me.

I went to bed on Sunday night with the intention of trying to make this week the best I could make it.

I have been dealing with the dread of my impending 40th birthday, the unbearable Northern California heat and just a general feeling of blah.

Thanks Mother Nature!
Thanks Mother Nature!

So when I went to bed on Sunday night, I had a plan.  I was going to get up early, pick out a cute outfit, curl my hair and try to start enjoying my birthday week a little bit.

My day started off wonderfully (she says with sarcasm dripping off her tongue).  I shut off all 5 alarms that I had set on my phone and woke up at 8:40.  Yep.  Supposed to be to work between 7:30 and 8:00 am and instead, I slept until 8:40.  Perfect.  Good start.  I had to hurry and shower and throw some clothes on.  I did not feel cute or ready to begin my birthday week.

In fact, I spent most of the morning fighting back tears.

I got to work, apologized profusely to the people I work with and immediately went out to smoke.  (Because why not?)

In the midst of my emotional breakdown, I decided I needed to send Mr. Rocker a text message, to let him know that us kissing and making out last weekend, was a horrible mistake.  That it was affecting the way I viewed our friendship and that I was sorry I let it happen.

Well, let me tell you, it was a bad idea.  BAD. IDEA.

The messaging started out at 2:37pm with me apologizing.  Telling him that I had been feeling weird about things since that night and that I didn’t like things being unsettled between us.  That our friendship is important and I shouldn’t have let things get out of control.  And then I apologized.

Let’s just say that Mr. Rocker didn’t take it so well.

He actually argued with my feelings and what I was saying.  Argued with me, about MY feelings.

The last communication we had was at 7:06 pm.  He sent me a text telling me that we both know there is more going on here and I just don’t want to see it.  But that he’s not going to give up.  He doesn’t want to give up.  That’s what friends do, they don’t give up on each other.

Now, in between my first message and his last message, he told me how passionate we were, that there was undeniable chemistry and a spark.  Told me that I couldn’t deny it.  Um, I’m not denying it, it wasn’t fucking there! 

He’s crazy.  Legitimately, 100%, certifiably, crazy.

I kiss people when I’m drunk.  It happens.  I’m not proud of this, but one time I went to a bar and kissed 5 strangers.  FIVE.  I’m flirty and I’m fun.

Well, apparently, in RockerLand, a kiss means more than a kiss.  And maybe it should, I’m not arguing with his feelings, but it isn’t there.  NOTHING IS THERE.  No passion.  No chemistry.  No spark.

It was a drunk girl, kissing a drunk guy.  End of story.  I was mad at the 29 year old and feeling bad about life in general that day.

Needless to say, this may be the end of my friendship with Mr. Rocker.

When I got off work, I was determined not to cry anymore.  This was mid-conversation with Rocker, so I didn’t know where things were going to head at this point.

I left work and went to visit my kid at her work.  I needed a hug from my kid and a new shirt for the celebration of the anniversary of the day I was born.

I found a cute shirt, hugged my kid and headed to the grocery store.  After all, it was Bachelorette viewing party night.

Every text I got from Mr. Rocker upset me.

I got home from the grocery store, started dinner and texted a few people and made a few phone calls.  I cried for the better part of 3 hours.  Making dinner.  Crying.  Doing dishes.  Crying.  Watching Sixteen Candles.  Crying.  Talking to a friend.  Crying.  Typing a message to the Accidental Relationship.  Crying.

By the time my girls started to arrive, I was pretty much cried out.  Dinner was done.  Eyes were puffy and red.  No more make-up graced my 39 year old face.

When the last of the girls arrived, they had a birthday cake, candles and a box of glow sticks in hand to celebrate my birthday.  A BOX of glow sticks!  200 of them to be exact.  All different sizes.  All different accessories.  My girls are BADASS.

After dinner, of homemade chicken enchiladas and homemade refried beans, we busted out the glow stick kit.

We made necklaces, earrings, rings, bracelets and even headbands!  I’m not sure I remember the last time I had so much fun.  We were dancing around singing, taking pictures of each other, in the dark.  GLOWING.

Glow stick party and a birthday cake.  Who could want more for a 40th Birthday?
Glow stick party and a birthday cake. Who could want more for a 40th Birthday?

I appreciate those kids so much.  For girls, ages 19-22 to think of something fun and sweet like that for my birthday, meant so much to me.  It truly is the first time I have smiled in regards to my birthday this year.

Then we sat down to watch The Bachelorette.

Oh Hell.

Just a few things about last night’s episode, from my point of view:

  • I have no problem with Kaitlyn having sex.  I do however have a problem with her having sex with Nick.
  • It is clear that she projected her own guilt about having sex with Nick on to Shawn.  She turned it around on him and his insecurities.  Listen here, Kaitlyn.  Shawn is adorable.  Most girls would cut off their right ear to be with someone as sweet AND hot as he is.  And his voice?  Are you fucking serious?
  • I was sad when she sent Cupcake home, but really?  The hysterical crying into a scarf?  Yay for showing emotion.  Boo for being a 12 year girl.
  • Jared needs to go home.  He’s a nice guy, a super nice guy, but his facial hair is out of control.  Completely.  OUT. OF. CONTROL.
  • Nick Viall literally makes me sick.  I want to vomit when I look at him or hear his voice.  He is gross.  Ugly.  But besides that, since everyone has their own taste in men, his mannerisms remind me of a creepy serial killer.  His tears look forced.  When someone is trying to be serious with him, he gets a creepy ass smile on his face.  I’m pretty sure that smile translates in to “Don’t ever be alone with me again!  I will kill you, and then wear your skin!  Bwhahaha!!”
See?  Even drinking wine, he's creepy as hell.
See? Even drinking wine, he’s creepy as hell.

So that was my evening in a nutshell.  Tears.  Laughing.  Glow Sticks.  Trash TV.  Birthday Cake.

Oh, and I bought a tiara today, to wear on my birthday.  Yep.  I’m 40.  It’s sparkly and pink and pretty.  And because I’m 40, I do not give one fuck what other people think.

That’s not true.  I care what YOU think.

Kisses.  xx

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