Things I’ve given up (this week)

-->Match.com (for the 100^th time).

Good Lawd oh Lawd.  Holy Mother of All Douche Bags.  The stint on the site this go-around turned up to be nothing but a hot mess of boys who wear Affliction, live over 50 miles away or still live at home.  I drew awfully tired of the ridiculousness of matches the site would offer me each day in my Daily Match.  The database of douchers kept spitting out men qualifying them with things we share in common limited to (and I am not kidding when I say limited) being the oldest child and love of dogs.  Holy train tracks.  Stop the presses….that’s deep.  Effing deep.  Thanks Match.   Enough is enough.  I can’t handle some guy with 4 kids who still lives with his ex and listed his status as separated.  Come on assholes at Match.com.  Come on.  I live in a metropolis of 2 million people.  You’re telling me the best matches you can conjure up for me smoke a pack a day (but trying to quit), have little education and still live at home (but trying to land on my feet)?  But wait, if they are the oldest child and love dogs, there must be a love connection somewhere. 

So there, go suck and egg Match.  Go suck a friggin big, hairy, smelly E-G-G.

Groupon.

Each day I am reminded of how I spend way too much time at work and cleaning my house given I haven’t delighted in the fancy things to do around my city.  The glorious 5-course meals at some swanky restaurant, the luxe spa specials, airplane jumps and body wrap treatments sound as tremendous as swimming in a pool of white queso, but my check book can’t handle the exploitation of all things fancy given I have to feed a zoo of hungry mutts, financing a 16-seer A/C unit, still paying off student loans for a degree that still has an inch of dust on it because it hasn’t been used in well, ever and a new niece to buy pretty things for.  I just couldn’t handle the torment of fabulous things I am missing out on so I unsubscribed and cried a little.

Ann Taylor/J. Crew/Banana/Anthropologie

I want to thank the marketing directors who approve discounts and offerings to me each day via email reminders to help expand my shit wardrobe, but looking at the current fashion trends and fall clothes reminded me that I’m on an Old Navy budget and well, I’ll need to stick with the 19.99 cargo pants from last fall for another season. 

Time (yeah, I gave up precious friggin’ time)

You might as well turn me in to TLC’s stupid Coupon show or consider me a long lost kin to Honey Boo Boo.  I spent an hour going through coupons this week trying to save $.000001 cent on some cracked-out over-expired box of mac n’ cheese.  I kid, I can’t stand processed dried cheese in a box, but still you catch my drift.  If time really is money I’m pretty sure I wasted a gazill buck-a-roos figuring out how to plot my $2 savings off an $89 grocery bill.  I even downloaded a coupon app for my local g-chain to help my consorted efforts.  Gawd, no wonder no one wants to date me…I’m a dried up old maid.

For a piss-ur-panties-helluva-good-laff, check this out.  

Promise to make you smile and realize your life is so much betta.  You're welcome.