Blasted make-up aisle....

I went to the grocery store for ONE poster board for a project....

And ended up with all this.

EIGHT poster boards (all cute colors), THREE small Aveeno lotions, Wet and Wild’s Through the Grapevine nail polish, Maybelline’s 8 Hushed Tints eyeshadow, hairspray that smells like an orange and strawberry smoothie and a delish curl crème that I will put on wet hair and call “getting ready” good for the day.

Blasted make-up aisle...

I knew I didn’t need anything, I just thought I’d “walk down the aisle”…. and no that wasn’t a reference to...well maybe it was.....whatevs.  Anyways, I walk down and realize I not only need something on the aisle, but I’m gonna need a big ole' basket to haul away my loot.

The make-up aisle is one of my guilty pleasures.

As is….

 Delaying homework to Facebook stalk

Keeping a bag of tropical starburst in my purse for snacking

Prank calling

Chocolate fountains

Justin Bieber acoustic YouTube channel

Over the knee boots from Charlotte Russe

Eavesdropping on strangers

Listening to backstreet boys, or in my case, paying $98 to go to their concert last summer

Rock’in Bath and Body Works lotion instead of showering

Oh, and the ultimate guilty pleasure?

Ben and Jerry’s Chubby Hubby icecream.

If you have not tried this yet, you might want to scooch back from your computer right now, find your keys that have way too many key chains on it, get in your car that hopefully has at least a quarter tank of gas in it, and drive to the nearest grocery. Once you have tasted of this beautiful concoction that has been frozen, you may say that you have truly lived.

Kisses,

Char

Up in the gym just workin’ on my fitness

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Why do we work out?

     To lower cholesterol?

     To decrease our chances of type 2 diabetes?

     To boost our metabolism? 

False.

Quite frankly, we want a hot bod.

The dating scene requires a figure that appeals and in order to get this you must somehow participate in physical activity.

Sports are well….sports and therefore not our specialty. Moving on.

The gym.

What a freaky, scary, intense place. Weights, ellipticals, treadmills, and women whose triceps are bigger than our thighs.  Needless to say, we lose more weight worrying about looking like a rookie at the gym than we do on the actual spinning contraption.

What’s a girl to do?

We are left with our only option.

 Jogging.

We’re not the kind of girls who flat iron their hair then whirl it into a super high pony tail with their ipod strapped to their golden arms, decked out in their full Nike running gear.

That is not us.

Our jogging is a loose term for walking with tiny spurts of running. But we try. We run our little hearts out. We run until our faces resemble that of an umpa lumpa and blisters bombard our poor innocent heels.

Seeing familiar faces on a jog is always lovely as you feel the pressure to quicken your pace or wipe the sweat that is cascading down your nose. Ever been honked at by a stranger? Creepy! What about someone you know? They will never look at you the same way.

But at the end of the day, the ease of zipping up your pants gives you greater pleaser than if you had stayed home and watched another episode of Lost.

Never mistake motion for action. – Ernest Hemingway

Char and Gertie

The Curse of the Enablers

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The Enabler: noun. One or more females, who encourage boys’ lack of commitment and flippant behavior towards dating by allowing the boys to treat them, with lack of a better word, like pond scum.

Why?

Why would you, with full consciousness allow a bachelor to cuddle with you while he has his other arm around another feline?

Why would you text a boy five times in a row with zero….ZERO texts from him?

Why would you provide food and shelter for yet ANOTHER hang out for a bunch of boys who should have taken you out weeks ago?

Why would you not egg his house after he kissed you and failed to ever dial your digits again?

Why, when a boy hints at spending time together, do you proceed to plan out the entire evening complete with baked cookies and movie tickets?

We are reverenced by the presence of a spinster who gives a guy the benefit of the doubt while at the same time maintaining her classy self-respect.

This balance is something all spinsters should aspire for.

Fight the Enablers, and most importantly, fight the urge to become one yourself.

With you in this battle,

Char and Gert

Love-40

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Dear college tennis team member I’ve never met,

Thank you for calling me. Unfortunately I will not be able to “cover” for the other girl that dropped out of your match for tomorrow.

You see…I actually don’t play tennis.

Well I do. I’m actually quite good but only when I play with my friends and pork burritos are on the line for the winner. I can’t play in front of a bunch of strangers who actually are competitive and want to win.

Also, I only joined the college club to put it on my resume.

Sorry for being tacky,

Char

p.s. Please take my name off your calling list so I don’t have to have a repeat of our last awkward conversation.

Yummy Yucky

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There is a children’s book called “Yummy Yucky” by Leslie Patricelli that is applicable to a Spinster’s daily life.

The book shows a baby experiencing different things that are “yummy” and “yucky”.

We decided to make our own list of “Yummy Yucky”.

Parties are Yummy                         

Trying to find a wingman or “plus 1” for the party is Yucky

Eating homemade caramels is Yummy    

Muffin topping it over your pants is Yucky

Successfully avoiding someone
 you don’t want to see is Yummy

Making eye contact with said person can be very Yucky

Green arrows while driving are Yummy

Sitting in the turn lane forever and the person

in front of you goes too slowly 
and you miss the arrow is Yucky

Getting a job offer is Yummy

Getting a stalker co-worker is Yucky

Flirting in the library is Yummy.

Having to repack all your stuff after said escapade is Yucky.

 Hoping your day is quite Yummy,

Char and Gertie