Monday Dare: To the person who stole my Taco Bell Gordita Savings Fund

Every week, I challenge myself to a Monday Dare. You can click on the link if you’d like to see the complete list of Monday Dares or learn more about its origin.

This week: Vent

The ashtray in my car used be a plain ol’ Spare Change Catch-all. Then, I watched a Tony Robbins PBS special about how you have to call out intentions in your life to make them happen, so I started calling the ashtray my Dreams Start Here Fund. THEN, I got wind of some people who were doing vision boards and such, and I knew that I really had to commit to something, lock it down, and the universe would mysteriously align. That’s when I started to get specific about my hopes, dreams, and desires in life.

Hence, the Taco Bell Gordita Fund was born.

I could tell it was the right decision because the very next day, I found a shiny nickel laying on the floor outside of a Forever 21. As I bent down to pick it up and clean it off with my hot breath, I felt like a Greater Force was winking at me from above and whispering, “Here’s a little something to get you started.” It was clear that the Universe wanted me to experience the warm pillowly flatbread covered in a melted three-cheese blend.

Occasionally, I would slide back the ashtray cover and eyeball the slowly growing fortune at stoplights. I’m not good at eyeballing (or “guesstimating” I think is the official term) because once, I was at my daughter’s school fair, and I had to guesstimate the number of gumballs in a really large jar. I guessed 73 but there were actually 991 gumballs in there. A cloud of gloom settled over me after they announced the 9-year-old winner, because I had already thought about all the ways I could enjoy the gum in my day-to-day life.

Sometimes, driving by the Taco Bell near my neighborhood, I wouldn’t look at it directly because some emotions would well up that I didn’t know how to process. Instead, I would give it a quick sideways glance and say out loud, “I’m coming back for you. Wait for me.”

Well, the important thing to know about my Taco Bell Gordita Fund is that someone stole it over the weekend.

That’s probably what I should have started with now that I think about it, but obviously, the shock of the situation has done a number on me, and I just needed to ramble for a little bit, let it out, tell you where I was coming from….you know how it goes.

Someone broke into my car over the weekend and stole almost everything of value. I say *almost* because luckily, they left one important thing behind. An item with no real price tag because it’s priceless to me:

My autographed Kenny G CD that my best girlfriend had The Master sign after one of his concerts.

Criminy, I am really filled with a lot of hate today as I obsess over the different things the thief is doing with MY stuff. What is he buying with the $173 I had left on my Toys R Us gift card? What kind of coffee is she enjoying with my Starbucks gift card? Will this person be using my iPod to house the entire collection of Demi Lovato’s music? Will my Taco Bell Gordita Fund unknowingly pay for bus fare to other neighborhoods so that this motherfucker’s crime spree can continue?

Have I unknowingly supplied a monster with the means to perpetuate a life of evil? Does this make me an accessory to a crime?

In therapy, they tell you that in order to get closure, you need to directly address the person who did you wrong, and if they happen to be dead, then a letter is the next best thing. I talked about my letter idea at the dinner table last night, and Cal was concerned for me because she thought there was a high likelihood that whoever stole my hopes and dreams probably doesn’t read this blog. I thanked her for Keeping It Real and told her that she had a good point. I guess this letter will have to be more about venting and finding some peace rather than a call to action for the perpetrator to paypal me $1.63 at flourishinprogress at gmail dot com.

DEAR HEY THIEF,

YOU OWE ME A FUCKING GORDITA. I’M DECLARING THUG WAR ON YOU.
AND YOU LEFT MY KENNY G CD?! DID YOU KNOW THAT IT WAS AUTOGRAPHED?

I HOPE THE REGRET KEEPS YOU UP AT NIGHT.

___
Have you ever been the victim of theft?

12/30/12 Update: BUMMER. It looks like all comments still haven’t transferred over from the recent Blogger to WordPress migration. Don’t worry, guys. I got this.

P.S. I’ll be posting some angry thug life thoughts on the Flourish in Progress Facebook page this week. “Like” the page to watch my probable downward spiral.
image via perpetualkid.com

Monday Dare: Are you dating a mofo? An assessment checklist

Every week, I challenge myself to a Monday Dare. You can click on the link if you’d like to see the complete list of Monday Dares or learn more about its origin.

This week: Dish out dating advice. (Disclaimer: I’m not an expert in this field. Well, maybe I am. I have, after all, dated every sad loser on this side of the Prime Meridian.)

It’s weird to write about dating since I haven’t been in the dating game for a minute. I’ve forgotten the fine art of giving out my phone number and then waiting and sometimes staring at my cell phone, willing it to ring. Ok, that’s a lie…that shit is burned into my brain the way an image of a fat man in super small stretched-out Speedos running along the rocky sand of a cold dirty Los Angeles beach still gives me chills at night.

I have a lot of single girlfriends. Some are single by choice. Others are single by chance. And I talk to all of them about what it’s like to navigate the Frosty Waters of Dating.

I find myself holding my tongue a lot. Mostly because I’ve found that when a girlfriend is sprung on some new flavor of the week, no amount of levelheaded advice is going to get through to them, but also because there is a very slim (VERY SLIM) chance I could be wrong about this new shady-ass motherfucker. I’m all about chances. Ok, no, that’s a lie too. I’m not all about chances. I’m just all about keeping my friends because if you’re dubbed The Nagger Friend, then you’re pretty much on The Outs when it comes to all the good gossip, and let’s be real here….I fucking live for gossip. In fact, if you have some juicy news you want to spread, just email me. It’s Monday. I could use a little bit of sparkle in my life.

I dig checklists. They’re simple. Throw an article at me about String Theory, and I won’t be able to digest one word. But put the same information in a checklist and I’ll rattle off the basics of theoretical physics like it’s the plot line from my favorite Nicholas Sparks movie. Don’t hate. That Nicholas is a motherfucking pimp.

Are You Dating an Asshole? An Assessment Checklist:

1. Is he saying things that would normally alarm a rational thinking person?

Most of the time, men tell you exactly what they mean. Really, they do. Sometimes, it’s a little indistinguishable because the alcohol is making them slur or they’re coming down from a really bad cocaine binge, so you have to smash the phone really hard into your ear and walk into your closet to hear the under-enunciated words. But if he’s saying it, you should probably listen. Phrases to watch out for include: “You’re not the one for me,” or “I don’t know what I’m doing with you here,” or “I can’t really accept who you are.” I’ve heard all of those lines said to me at one point or another. Guess what I did? I just ignored that shit and kept right on. And guess what happened? Nothing. Because eventually, the words become louder and totally unavoidable and before you know it, you’re watching the Academy Awards and you see your man walking down the red carpet with another girl on his arm who isn’t you and you’re thinking….”Wait just a minute here….”

If you hear any of these things being said to you, RUN. Seriously, just put on those flip flops and get the fuck out of there as fast as you can, girl. You’ll thank me later. Trust me.

2. Are you a secret? Is he a secret? 

Step back and honestly assess this shit, friends. Are you pretty much a nonexistent entity in his life except behind closed doors? Do his friends even know you exist? He doesn’t need to make paper flyers declaring his interest, but if you’re not on his public radar, then you’re probably only on his pubic radar.

Conversely, are you ashamed to tell your friends about him? Maybe he’s immersed in a whole bunch of questionable or illegal activities. Maybe he’s been to jail. Now, I’m not saying everyone who’s been to jail is a bad person. Frankly, I’m a little surprised I haven’t spent some time there myself, but I figure it’s only a matter of time before I’m known to my community as Inmate 217 (which, coincidentally, used to be my pager code because “217” is “Liz” upside down and backwards. I know, I have way too much time on my hands).

3. Is it one-sided? 

Does he ever ask you about your day? Is it all about his happiness? Does he even give a fuck about how you feel…about anything? You don’t have to think too long about these questions. It’s obvious and apparent when someone has an interest in you and your well-being. Maybe he remembers to ask about work when he knows you’re having a stressful day. Maybe he asks you about your family when he knows some shit is going down, and you’re secretly devastated on the inside, but you’re doing that whole martyr front so you look all strong and grown-up on the outside.

4. Does the motherfucker not call you?

Maybe you’re the one making all the effort. Who’s calling whom? Are you trying to know someone who only bothers to talk to you Monday- Friday while he’s spending those tortured hours at work, and he can’t watch porn on the company computer so he asks you to send him a little picture here and there to pass the time?

5. Do all of his ex-girlfriends hate the shit out of him? 

Look, if you’re talking to someone who had to change his home address, phone number or place of employment after a relationship because the newest person he fucked over happens to want him dead, then he’s probably not right for you. Sure, you can kid yourself and claim that you’re going to be the one to change him, but let’s be real…who has that kind of time these days? I don’t even have a fucking dog because I can’t tame an animal. I sure as hell don’t see what kind of wonder-woman has the time, patience and wherewithal to change a man-child. Don’t be delusional.

If you answered “yes” to ANY of these questions, then you should probably do this:

RUN LIKE THE WIND, BITCH, RUN LIKE THE WIND.

What did I miss? Ever dated an asshole?

P.S. I think of stupid things and post them on an almost daily basis on the Flourish in Progress Facebook page. “Like” the page to feel smarter than at least one person every day.

P.P.S. If this post resonates with you, I’m really sorry about that because clearly you’ve dated a motherfucker. Please share the post so we spare other bitches from going through the same thing.
image via lettercult.com