this isn't what I thought 35 would look like.

I have vowed to start taking things people say at face value. The internal hamster running on the wheel of "what did so and so really mean" is exhausting. I am after all now 1/2 way to 70 (happy birthday to me) and trying not to listen to the bullshit that piles up in my head.

It really only gives me a headache.

**

We have been looking to adopt a dog, but it has to be the perfect dog. I'm kind of disillusioned by the whole process. Petfinder finds plenty of pets and if I lived in Arkansas or Tennessee that would be just grand, but I don't. I live in New England where none of the pups listed reside and the pounds are filled with bully breeds and not so much with the fluffy cute little pups one would seek to expose her 18 month old to. Spouse and I are going to meet one mix this Saturday and maybe go to the pound. A place thus far I have avoided because I just think it's too much for my heart to take.

My short list of dog requirements.
Must be a mixed breed.
Must not have squashed in face to encourage snoring.
Must be under 1 year of age and not the size of a house or a shoe box, respectfully.

I didn't think that was so much to ask. The hunt goes on and on.

**

I went to my first dance recital last weekend. The 3 1/2 minutes of my BF's little darlings twirling and tapping was a dream!! I love these girls as if they were my own and I bubbled over with pride to see them perform.

The other 3 hours and 12 minutes made my eyes BLEED. At the end of the debacle every other adult had the same glazed over dazed expression on their faces that my companions did. Human rights violating torture, thy name is dance recital. I will do everything in my power to steer my girl away from them.

**

I'm the accumulation of 6 generations of Gemini woman. All of us, one after the other on my mothers side. Crazy Twins. Except for my girl. My girl is a Sagittarius. I broke the cycle. She has a chance to be normal.

**

I am going to admit something huge.

I can't stop watching the Real Housewives of NJ. Gack, I know!
Totally not my type of reality TV. Think Top Chef and Project Runway. Swoon.

But Real Housewives? Again, I say Gack!
That was until a friend of mine from Rhode Island asked me "Is that what people from NJ are really like". So I had to watch a couple of minutes to see right? Well a couple of minutes turned into the whole episode which turned into me setting my DVR and gleefully awaiting new episodes.

Because you know what...no those are not what people from NJ are like because them bitches (love the phrase btw) are from New York. They just live in NJ. Except for one of them. One of them, I will not validate my obsession by naming her, is from NJ....and her accent? OMG, I can not get enough of it. Its like this fucked up cure to any home sickness I might have. Her voice and emphatic hand waving is like a warm cozy blanket that makes me feel like I'm home nestled among the strip malls and McMansions.

Because that's what Jersey girls really do sound like.

It's like butta.