Welcome To My Future

I lived in Texas the first 25 years of my life.  I grew up around women that could cook, women with incredible confidence and women with class.  Living in Arizona, I can't seem to find many women with the same qualities.  Sure, they're around but they're not friendly and they're not nearly as accepting.  The ladies here dress the same, talk the same and act the same.  It's very disheartening.  So, I have taken it upon myself to uphold those fantastic values of what being a southern woman is all about.
Despite the fact that I can't cook, I always try.  Weekend mornings, you will be sure to find me making homemade pancakes, bacon and eggs with coffee.  Some evenings are filled with homemade breads, cupcakes or cakes with homemade frosting.  The best hours are usually spent in a comfortable chair reading a book or listening to music.  And rest assured, might I actually go out, my manners will be impeccable.  

Yesterday was one of those days when I actually went out.  I was invited by my boyfriend's mother and sister to a Holiday Shoppe at some local church.  It. Was. Fabulous.
Never, have I been a room full of so many women where I didn't want to scream -- they were fantastic!  They were kind, talkative, well-mannered and different.  They were cooks, mothers, wives and daughters and they were talking about ideas and giving helpful advice to one another.  It was a community of women who knew each other and shared with one another.
To those who know me, it's obvious that I'll, one day, become a cat lady.  But yesterday gave me and entirely different outlook on the infamous kitty lovers.  Sure, they're probably a bit lonely and they're kids have left home and they're bored and their husbands most-likely annoy them to no avail.  But instead of being bitter, old ladies, these bitches craft!
It's no secret that I have made fun of these women in the past, but until I became a lonely, bitter woman with nothing to do but bitch about how things used to be; I realized that growing in to one of these fine patrons of crafting probably isn't the worst thing that could happen to me.  There are plenty of worse things: alcoholism, hoarding, murder, 50 Shades of Gray.  

The thing is, yesterday was one of the nicest days I've had since the weekends I'd spend shopping with my mother or just sitting at her house cooking, reading and talking with her.  And, because of that, it made me very aware that one day, I'll lose my mother but instead of becoming even more bitter and cold than I already consider myself, I'll have crafting and plenty of old ladies who miss their mothers too.

♀

Why I'm a Bitchface

I am tired, grumpy, irritable and unwilling to give in to even a faint smile.  If you're in a bad mood and you live with other people, feelings are going to get hurt.  I actually had a really nice morning.  I went garage sale hunting with my boyfriend's mom and sister and also to a Holiday Shoppe where the local craft ladies sold their creative outlets of knitted Christmas ornaments, crocheted kitchen things I've never heard of and plenty of repressed emotions under layers and layers of cat fabric.

I even purchased a horribly awesome Polka album.  

However, when I came home... there he was; Ricky.
 You all know this person: the one that comes over unannounced, the one that lingers with puppy-dog eyes while you're trying to eat instead of leaving, the one that talks too much, the one that laughs too loud, the one that lets their phone ring to hear the song set as their ringtone, the one that offers commentary during a movie or a video game... you get it.
The problem is, the person you know probably inhabits one, maybe two of these annoying idiosyncrasies.  Not for me, the person I know embodies EVERY SINGLE ONE of these qualities.
Weekends are spent with the shades drawn and every door bolted.
He was asked (not long ago) to please text before he came over and make sure we were home.  This did no good; if he doesn't get an answer, he just comes over anyway.