First off, men in hats are hot.  And so is chivalry.  Hats + chivalry = hat doffing.  Therefore, doffing one’s hat is hot.

Psh.  Who said the G&G Girls couldn’t do math?  I think that was a top notch equation just now.  Anyway.  Hat doffing.  Just one of the arts that has gone the way of opening doors and writing love letters.  AKA it’s DEAD.  The only time I’ve ever had a hat doffed at me was by an older gentleman with a grey mustache.  It was awesome.  I suppose it would be a little strange to have men doffing hats at me all day, but it’s definitely something I’d love a chance to get used to.  It would only seem strange because no one wears hats anymore (a crusty Phillies cap doesn’t count btw..) so first of all we’d need to bring hats back.  And then it would only be a matter of time before doffing followed suit.  And then the swooning would commence.

Cowboys doff hats regularly.  Accompanied by a nod and a drawled out, “Ma’am.”  So dreamy.  Men in suits in old timey movies doff hats. They are usually reporters or con men.  The smarmy ones will add an eyebrow wiggle.  Clearly the return of hat doffing will not eliminate the creepers.  But hey, I’ll take a creepily executed hat doff over a, “Hey baby,” any day.

When you make the mistake of falling in love with a man with an obsessive, life-consuming hobby, you are also unwittingly signing yourself up for a lot of alone time.  A LOT.

Right now is one of those times.  We are currently in the middle of a 10 day fishing trip.  Or rather, he’s in the middle of a 10 day fishing trip.  I am in the middle of a 10 day reversion to my previous life as a cat lady.

Listen, I don’t like being alone.  I grew up in a family with five kids, I’ve always had at least one roommate.  I’m just not used to being the only human being around and I don’t particularly enjoy it.

Thank God for the cat.

While we obviously can’t have an actual conversation (I’m not THAT far gone), at least he will usually meow in response when I talk to him.  Which, during fishing season, is quite often.  I find myself making inane comments to him like, “Do you hear the birds outside? Do you want to play outside?” just so there’s some sound in the house besides the “Will & Grace” episodes I’ve been watching at an alarming pace.

There’s no one to cook dinner for, so I don’t.  I crack open a can of Fancy Feast for the baby and plop on the couch for my own meal – first course, a mixing bowl of salad, second – half a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.  My party girl days are over, and during fishing season I find myself pre-maturely living the life of a 50 year old spinster.

I can fill my days with birthday parties, babysitting and Phillie’s games, but the fact is, I’m still going home alone, to an empty house, to eat dinner alone and then go to bed alone.  If I wanted to do that every night, I would have just stayed a cat lady.

I’ve received a few “Happy Mother’s Day!” greetings from strangers today.  Happens every year.  Which is a little odd considering I’ve looked 14 since I turned 14.  Maybe people can sense my inherent love for finger paint and children’s books and assume there must be a baby mixed in there somewhere.

Anyway.  Some girls get a little miffed when people wish them a happy day today.  They might think it means they look old or frazzled.  Not me!  To me, someone wishing me a “Happy Mother’s Day” symbolizes their acknowledgement of and respect for the simple fact that I am capable of  (someday) carrying another human life inside of my body.  What a miracle!

And really, isn’t it nice to have people actually smile and greet you for a change instead of the normal city scowl they usually carry?  I’ll take a “Happy Mother’s Day” any time!

Listen, I love children.  Absolutely adore them.  Everyone knows that; it’s no secret.  But here’s the thing – because of this adoration, people assume I want to pop out 17 babies tomorrow.

Aside from the scientific and anatomic impossibility of that happening – well no thanks.  I love the idea of having a child.  The grubby baby hands, a little voice calling me “Mommy,” the ability to have Goldfish crackers and children’s books in the house without having to justify it…so many great things!

But in reality…I know I would only want the kid until it turned about 11 or 12 and starts thinking it’s too cool for school and that they know everything about everything.  Is there anything more annoying than a know-it-all teenager with no life experience to base all of their opinions on?  When a kid gets too old to snuggle and read Junie B. Jones and bake cookies and play in the park…well, I just lose interest.

Maybe the biggest reason I’m in no rush to pop out a baby though, is that I am not ready to devote every aspect of the entire rest of my life to the care and well-being of another human.  Listen, I know it sounds selfish to admit that; but at least I’m mature enough to realize that I’m that selfish, right?  I’m the oldest of 5 children of a single mother.  I put in more than my fair share of diaper changing, laundry doing, dinner cooking, bath-giving, time-outs and band-aiding by the time I was 18.  Then I topped that off with stints at teaching Sunday School, running Story Time, working at a daycare, tutoring and babysitting.  When potential babysitting job parents ask about my experience with child care, I always lead with, “Well I’m the oldest of five kids…” and that’s usually enough for them.

My teen years – when most kids my age were out experimenting with illegal substances and boys – were spent being a second mom to my younger siblings.  I taught two of them how to read, baked their birthday cakes, and solved their disputes.  Don’t get me wrong, I love them all to death, but how many 14 year olds have to take their younger brother and sister to work with them?  How many 14 year olds work these days in the first place?  Don’t get me started on how spoiled all these brats are these days… But anyway, eventually I left for college and started my own life.  When you pop out a kid, there is no leaving, and it is your life.  Forever.

And I’m just not ready for that.

Alright alright, a little disclaimer before people blame this post on my poor self image – my self image is doing great thank you.  I don’t have any “issues,” and my self worth isn’t measured by how men perceive my body.

I just happen to find rap and hip-hop inspiring while I’m working out.  Pumping out of an SUV with tinted windows and rims…not so much, but when I’m trying to run that last mile…absolutely!

Normally Lykke Li and Gotye are more my speed, but while I’m working out I like to take it up a bunch of notches.  I’m so tired, but ok, ok, I’m gonna shake my money maker like somebody’s gonna pay me and keep going because dammit, I AM a sexy bitch.

Occasionally Pandora will screw up and play something like Coldplay on my gym station.  Are you f-ing kidding me Pandora? I’m in the middle of doing 100 crunches, and Chris Martin moaning about how everything is all yellow is NOT going to help.  I need Ludacris growling “move bitch” into my ear.

I have read a lot of articles bemoaning the popularity of “flash sale” sites, like ideeli and MyHabit.  These sites offer crazytown sales on everything from clothing and shoes to kitchen appliances and vacations.  The thing is, the deals are only avaiable for a limited time, from a couple of hours to a few days at the most.

Now apparently, this is a big problem for a lot of women’s wallets.  They see some fantastic dress 70% off for the next five hours and just have to pounce – how could you pass that up!?  They can’t!  So they just keep buying things and buying things and buying things.

I definitely don’t have that problem.  While I love browsing the daily deals on these sites, I rarely buy anything.  See, this is how I normally shop – it’s a process that takes days.  I’ll go into a store, look around, maybe try something on, take it off, try it on again.  Give it back to the dressing room attendant, go home, think about it for a couple of days – where would I wear it? What would I wear it with?  Would I wear it enough to justify the cost? And so on.  And then, maybe go back to the store, try it on again, and maybe buy it.  I know, I know, I drive myself crazy.

And that’s why these flash sale sites just don’t work for me.  I see something I like, read the reviews, think about it…and by the time I’ve made up my mind, the sale is over, or my size is sold out.  Trust me, I join a lot of waiting lists.  That is why, after deciding in NOVEMBER that I should buy a new dressy winter coat, and a new pair of everyday leather boots (my current ones are literally hanging on by a thread) it is now MARCH and I have yet to purchase either of those items.  My reasoning in wanting to buy those items on ideeli was that I could afford to buy a more expensive item that would last longer without spending too much, thanks to the steep discounts.

Not so much.  I am beginning to see that by relying on these flash sale sites to be able to afford some classier pieces is actually going to result in me wearing rags, as that’s what all of my clothes will probably be by the time I get the nerve to hit, “BUY NOW!”