Tag Archives: Relationships

Guest Post: Elopement–No Bells, No Buffet, & No Bullshit

26 Nov

Annnndddd, here we go again. What is up with you women and weddings.*gags* The 30s really do get that clock to ticking louder, eh? Being gay is so convenient. I don’t have to worry about any of the bells, buffets, or as Maria titled it, bullshit. Thank you gay-marriage haters of the United States. I salute you. (I’m also giving you the finger. Stop trampling on other people’s rights. Why can’t we all me miserable during and after matrimony.) Nonetheless, Maria has the ticket. If you’re going to fucking do it, do it in stealth. Less money. Less headache. More dubious. *wringing hands* I love dubious.

It may be fun to look at wedding porn for a few seconds, but eventually, nausea sets in and you’re ready to blow up the nearest bridal boutique. You think all you need is a dress, but then it turns into a dress, a veil, shoes, fake flowers for your hair, bouquets, bridal party attire, catering, favors for your guests, a wet bar, a 5-piece band, an exorbitant rental fee for some cheesy location and a crackpot preacher, and a giant migraine. You can get seriously ill thinking about your “perfect” traditional wedding.

Your reasons may be different from mine, but what I’ve decided is that elopement is looking pretty good. I’ve been engaged for almost 15 months now, I don’t have some giant frilly dress, I haven’t set a date, and I honestly don’t plan on doing any of that. I have a ring on my finger and a fiancée who’s willing to spontaneously tie the knot when the mood strikes.

“Planning” an Elopement

I may hate the idea of having a whiny flower girl and snot-nosed ring bearer, but that doesn’t mean I’m completely heartless – just almost. In my opinion, the courthouse isn’t the place to get hitched. I don’t want to remember the felon or the lawyer sitting next to me waiting for the judge when I recall my wedding day. You may be less of a fairy tale princess, but when it comes down to it, I don’t want to be starting my marriage with divorce candidates or unsavory characters. My fiancée and I are planning to simply pick up our marriage license from the courthouse and run off to some undisclosed location for the actual ceremony. And the best part about this is that we’re not setting a date – we’re both ready to get married, but we’re enjoying the engagement and the idea that children are only in our nightmares.

We’ve talked to our local county clerk’s office at the courthouse about how long it might take on certain days at certain times, we’ve checked out gardens and parks, and we’ve found short-notice officiants who can be persuaded to meet us and get us on our way to married life for a reasonable fee.

In our county, we have to wait 72 hours between getting our marriage license and having our ceremony, so there’s a little bit of planning ahead there. But the bulk of the planning is actually the honeymoon – the best part of the whole wedding shitstorm and the only reason people ever survive traditional ceremonies in the first place. To get everything in order, we’ll plan two weeks ahead for the honeymoon, which is still pretty spontaneous for a marriage. It’s no shotgun courthouse wedding, but it’s not the year of planning recommended by any wedding porn magazine you pick up either. It’s just enough peace of mind and flexibility for a couple of thirty rotten scoundrels.

Maria Rainier is a freelance writer and blog junkie. She is currently a resident blogger at First in Education, where recently she’s been researching different online msw degrees and blogging about student life. In her spare time, she enjoys square-foot gardening, swimming, and avoiding her laptop.


Guest Post: Another installment of the Seth Chronicles

15 Nov

Tales from the Stripped: You’re About to Enter another Dimension: The Friend Zone.

The notion of friend-birds seems to be resonating with a lot of us scoundrels lately. There was Girlasaurus Rex, then my post on friday, and now Seth brings us his “friend” (Not sure why I put that in quotes. Oh well.)  situation(?) today. My god, people. It’s Monday, I’m still trying to get the synapses firing. Look. Just read it, and give the boy some of your sage wisdom/anecdotal evidence of why he should or shouldn’t take this friend to fuck-buddy status. Who knows? Maybe even girlfriend status?!

Something I’ve come to realize in my roller-coastery 32 years, is that I value friendship over ass these days. It’s not that I don’t value ass. I am still a breathing male with a cock, after all. But it’s just that ass is ass, and ass comes and goes. Friendship is essentially what gets you from ass to ass. I mean, if you built a brick wall of your 30’s, the bricks would be things like ass and promotions; the mortar would be friendship (and maybe family). So yep, your life is basically just a big, thick brick wall of ass. (She’s a brick…..house). Don’t tell me you weren’t just doing the Worm to the Commodores right now. Continue reading

Pulling the plug

11 Nov

I think most of us have been there.

You’re in a relationship that was fabulous at one point, but has become lackluster. You know you’re not particularly happy in it anymore, but your lives are tangled, maybe finances are intertwined, shared living space – all the stuff that would make a break up messy and hard.

Mmmm hmmm. image courtesy of quirkyjessi

So do you stay and just hope for the best, or do you pull the plug and basically start a new life?

In my personal experiences, I’ve been through both.  I remember going half way around the world to be with a boy and it not panning out. Meh. I was young then.

Then I jumped into a relationship that lasted  8 years. There was a diamond involved, jointly-owned property, comfort, horrible treatment towards each other, dysfunction that I can’t even describe here. And I would have stayed with him forever had he not pulled the plug.

Neither one of us were happy. I was too dumb to leave, he was too “nice” to leave. Thank goodness he cheated. That way I was ready to stay gone when we broke up. Oooo and there were some awkward and somewhat hilarious moments post-break up when we were still living together and trying to untangle our lives.  I have to just look back and laugh at this point. Continue reading

Wanna go on a blind date?

10 Nov

Ha! Wanna go on a blind date? Shut up!

Wait. Are you serious? No seriously, are you serious? Is it because you feel sorry for me? You really do think I’m that pathetic and lonely. Okay, well, maybe that’s true, but dayum. What am I saying? I’m good. I’m good being single. A blind date? You understand this could go horribly awry, and I’m liable to UNFRIEND you if it does. Maybe I won’t unfriend you, but the trust factor will diminish! I’m talking there will be a lot of fancy dinners and bottles of wine before we are down like 4 flat tires again. Capisce!

Mind you, I know I shouldn’t turn down dates in my thirties–blind or not. Continue reading

The dark side of co-habitation: Part 3 Let there be light

4 Nov

Around 3am this morning, I was jolted out of my peaceful slumber by a flying elbow to my spine.  Immediately following my groans of dismay was a slurred apology and then quiet. I thought of all the awful things I could do back to him for about thirty seconds, and decided that I was too tired to execute any plan of revenge.

Sharing the bed is still a work in progress.

I'm sure you're a nice person, but we do not like your face.

But then I think of how he starts my coffee in the morning before he leaves for work. And how he sits through 90201 while theVar and I go on about how Naomi is too orthognathic for our standard of beauty.

Last night I was talking with @DustinVan (the sexiest man on Twitter) (*touches self*)  and he asked me how the co-habitation was going.

Now, I’m not going to pretend that I can recall the conversation exactly, but I’m pretty sure I said the words “domestic bliss” at some point. And I meant it. No, really.

I’ve picked a good match for shacking up. Mike doesn’t make that truck backing up beeping noise when I leave a room – despite the fact that I’ve packed on 14lbs in the last 3 months.  He DVRs hockey games so I don’t have to sit through that shit. He lets me pick on the cats. He poops in the designated pooping bathroom. He doesn’t get all bent out of shape when I make horny cat sounds at Anderson Cooper (meoooow! *presenting*) He lets me be a complete asshole when I get a question right on Jeopardy and everyone else misses it. How do you make it on to Jeopardy and not know what an elegy is? That’s just asking for a smug remark from Trebek. Another silver fox, by the way.

Above all else, every single day, I know that he loves me and Smokey.

So there it is, Scoundrels. Co-habitation is working out well so far. I expect it to continue going that way  as long as he poops in the proper bathroom.

The dark side of co-habitation part 2: On cats, couches and sharing the covers

15 Oct

Life as I know it is about to change. In exactly one week, Mike and I sign a lease and move into our new place together.

Holy ish. *Cue panic attack.

I lurve Mike, so why panic? Well, it’s a big change from the unattached life to the land of co-habitation. I’m not really worried that we’ll have problems living together. Sure, there will be arguments and blow outs and even tender moments. It’s more that I’m losing my alone time. Where I can sit on my couch in my underwear and pluck my eyebrows while wearing a pore cleansing mask and munching on hummus and pita chips. All the while singing songs from RENT or Spring Awakening.

I can’t do that in front of Mike. Frowny face.

But we’re moving forward in our relationship, which means moving in together.  So there you have it.


image courtesy of frugalnfit.wordpress.com


I have found that anytime you decide to hitch your wagon to someone’s horse, it comes with – oh, let’s just call it baggage. And my dear boyfriend just so happens to come with two rather furry, and at times infuriating  pieces of baggage: cats.

For those of you who read my personal blog, you know I have a history with these cats. And the scars to prove it.  So the idea of living with these cats full-time is one that I’m not actually all that fond of. In my head I run a cost/benefit analysis. Mike comes with the cats, and I love him enough to put up with them. Continue reading

My BlackBerry died, and my boyfriend is being less than sympathetic

22 Sep

Few things sting in life like a sudden loss.

This morning, my BlackBerry died. Suddenly. Without explanation.

I’m grieving. This sort of loss, one this devastating, is hard to cope with.  I have to go to the post office today and likely stand in line for an hour with no access to Twitter. No access to email. No phone.

I know. I’m really struggling.

I went to my boyfriend for understanding. For a sympathetic ear.

From me: My phone died this morning. Have no idea what happened, it just won’t turn on at all.  This is the saddest day ever. I feel like I’ve lost the one thing that I loved. Because I LOVE my Blackberry. Dude, how am I going to carry on? Pray for me.

From him: That makes me feel so warm and fuzzy to know that the only thing you actually love is your Blackberry. Tender. You’ll be ok. You still have a computer.

From me: My computer doesn’t fit into my PALM!  I don’t think you appreciate the gravity this situation. MY BLACKBERRY! Plus, now I don’t have a phone. Hello? A phone. Ha ha ha ha. FML.

From him: Oh, you love me, too? That’s sweet. 

From me: Right now I feel like you’re being less than sympathetic to my dire and troubling situation. I reserve all feeling for you until this has been resolved. I said Good Day!
Scoundrels, I need support. We all know how much our smart phones rule our worlds. Give a girl some love here.

Submissions and Stage-5 Clinger Signs: Great way to start a week, eh?

13 Sep

A word from our sponsors:

I want to talk to you Scoundrels about submissions. Lately, Sport and I have been pretty much churning out topics for you to sink your agreeable, sometimes judgmental, opinionated, which we all love teeth into. But we haven’t been receiving many submissions from you. WTF? Do you feel your 30s experience doesn’t merit our welcoming eyes? Are you just too good to share how awesome and fucked up your 30s are?  We started this blog tocreate a community for all of us nearing that threshold of 30s, navigating this 30s labyrinth, and even those of us that have reached the 30s dénouement (God rest their souls). Now, armed with this new-found awareness what are you going to do with it? If the answer is submit your tales of debaucherous sex, child-rearing, relationships, career, traveling (you get the idea), then you just won the secret prize. Ahem, if I told you, then it wouldn’t be secret, now would it? Sooooo, what will we do? SUBMIT POSTS! When will we do it? NOW! Just send them over to talkthirtytome@gmail.com.

Continue reading

Meet Exhaustion’s little friend.

26 Aug

The correlation between exhaustion, loneliness, and comfort has eluded me for years. Until Tuesday night, they were mutually exclusive states of being. While chatting it up with Benji after a fantastic meal hosted by Venue and Republic Tequila, which was comfort in itself (nom, nom, gulp), he stated, “You know, when I’m tired, I feel so…vulnerable.” Vulnerable? Like raping him and taking his wallet vulnerable? Or was this about to be a Dr. Phil moment vulnerable? I just wasn’t sure. Then he explained. Continue reading

A Whole New Playground

8 Jul

There is a line in an Avett Brothers song that goes:  “I want to have friends that I can trust/ That love me for the man I’ve become, not the man that I was.”

It got me thinking. So much of our younger life is spent building things: career, relationships, financial security and friendships.

I’ve got friends that I’ve had since Kindergarten. I’ve got a few very close friends that I’ve know since high school. But then I’ve also got the newbies that haven’t known me for that long. Some of those I’d consider my besties.

As I’ve grown older, and become the person that I am, my friendscape has changed considerably. When I played roller derby, I found myself with more girl friends than I’d ever had in the past combined. Now that I’m not playing anymore, there’s been another shift where I find myself spending time with the kids from Twitter.

There is something to be said about sharing a history with the friends I’ve had forever. There’s also something to be said for the ones who take me for who I am now.

Am I alone in this? Does anyone else’s friendscape shift with their changing lifestyles? Friends are one of the greatest joys in life. How do you guys mix the old with the new?

%d bloggers like this: