Monday Dare: Toeing the motherfucking line

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

This week: Be less “awesome” and “wonderful”

When people ask stupid questions, I like to give fucked-up answers. Some may find this immature and tasteless, but it brings me a great deal of joy, and hey, if we can’t derive satisfaction from the little things in life, then shit’s going to get real bad, real fast, don’t you think?

Years ago, I had a boyfriend ask me why I loved my daughter more than I loved him. Now that I think back, it was more of a complaint rather than a question, but whatever the method of delivery, his heart was in the same place. He wanted to be #1.

I sat in stunned silence for a minute. Really, I wanted to laugh and push him in the face, but I figured that would only make the situation worse. My silence must have spoken volumes because he swept our entire dinner off the table with his forearm and left in a huff.

As he raced down the three flights of stairs to his car, I called out after him- “It’s because of the way your calves look in shorts. Get some muscle tone, asshole!”

Our twisted relationship ended after that. Mainly because he was clearly a disturbed individual with very little understanding of love and priorities, but also because he broke several dishes that I could no longer replace because Target had discontinued the set. I may have been a poor single mother with limited resources, but any man that makes it necessary to resort to mismatched dishes is where I draw the motherfucking line.

He later claimed that we broke up because I was too insensitive and sarcastic, but in my book, those are just synonyms for awesome and wonderful. And perfect. And special. I could go on, but you’re an especially smart crowd, so you know what I’m trying to get at here, yes?

There’s a line between sticking up for yourself or getting a point across and being insensitive or overly-sarcastic. I could say it’s a fine line, but that would be wrong. It’s a wide river that separates one side from the other, with a lot of gray area open to interpretation depending on how sissy and stupidly sensitive the other person is.

I’m not sure how, but I’d like to try and be more attuned to the sissiness of other individuals to figure out how much I can get away with. WAIT, I MEAN…I’d like to be more aware of other people’s boundaries and comfort levels. Because some people cry like little bitches. WAIT, I MEAN….just forget it. Y’all, I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach already. And not from the microwave burrito I just ate.

Has sarcasm ever put you in an awkward situation?

P.S. I post thoughtlessly insensitive things + funny pictures + thug life thoughts on the Flourish in Progress Facebook page almost daily. “Like” the page to see them in your news feed.
image via pinterest

Monday Dare: Six million ways to die

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

This week: Get my groove on.

There are supposedly six million ways to die. I’m not sure if this fact is true because I heard it in a rap song, but much of the knowledge I’ve acquired in life is from hardcore rap lyrics, so let’s just assume this information is correct.

I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about “The D Word” because I’m dedicated to avoiding hefty life tasks such as setting long-term goals, understanding taxes, acquiring marketable skills, or thinking about my eventual demise.

I may not obsess over death, but some primal instinct keeps me from doing things that put me in harms way. Like exercising.

Recently, I-

Fell off a treadmill…while the belt was still moving. Distracted by a rousing news segment on water bottle consumption, I forgot to put one foot in front of the other. I just got up casually, looked around to see if anyone noticed, and bought a Twix bar to console myself. You know what tastes better than blood, sweat, and tears? Chocolate. And caramel. And a crispy biscuit finger.

Took a Zumba class. I could go into all the sordid details of this experience, but really, I still want you to respect me a little bit because I care what you think, so that’s pretty much all I can say about the incident.

Tried to take a leisurely walk around my neighborhood. I ran into a pole. Personally, I think it moved into my path, but my family disagrees. They claim that poles can’t move. Haters.

Each brush at attempted fitness has left an ugly scar on my psyche. And, in some cases, my shin.

I’ve tried exercises that don’t involve so much motion, like weight training. Except, I usually get distracted halfway through my routine (Oh my Jesus, look at that moth! It’s so…so….brown!) and stop what I’m doing. I assume at some point, my body is going to start looking all lopsided and shit.

Sure, I’ve got the whole primal instinct thing going on, but I’ve also been blessed with an unusually small amount of common sense, so I’m renewing my vows to get fit. I….I hope to see y’all again next week.

How do you stay fit? How do you stay motivated?
image via marriedtothesea.com