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This is 30

This week a friend asked if this is how I pictured my life at 30 and my immediate answer was “HELL NO”. I then proceeded to escort myself on a self-guided journey into a pity party for one. After I moped around for a while, referencing a few indications of my perceived lack of success, I snapped out of that thought process real fast. Of course this isn’t where I pictured myself at 30 because I painted it when I was about 6 and I l was never very good at art. Or sports… I digress.

So this is 30 and to be perfectly honest I am quite happy to leave my 20s behind. The older I get, the more legitimate it is for me to leave places before 10:00 PM. It is one step closer to getting to wear muumuus without judgement. And discuss casseroles and crock-pots for longer periods of time. So there’s that.

I took risks in my twenties that helped me figure out what makes me happy and what makes me sad. I have trimmed and tailored and cut out the fat. I learned that while Edward 40 hands is a good idea when you are 24, Hendricks Martinis with your best friends are better. And even best when you do both with your aforementioned friends. I feel like the past year has led me to a calmer state of Marissa. And I can stand for a little calm.

So it was a happy birthday for me and a happy birthday for BJ. He’s 6, which is 40 in cat years. I wonder how he’s feeling.

Bitch didn't even get me a present.

Bitch didn’t even get me a present.




How to live life better.

I have been anxious about what to share in this long anticipated return post, as my life is overridden with fascinating news and anecdotes. However I couldn’t really land a theme so instead I shall share some generic wisdom I have gathered over my years. There are little things I do to try and deflect from the squalor in which I reside. * These little tricks have gotten me through some tough pest ridden times. Hopefully they’ll help you. In this first issue, I’ll cover 3 categories Rodents, Insects, and Snakes.
A mouse in the house? First try picturing him wearing a top hat or comedically eating an oversized triangle of cheese. Not working? Purchase a gigantic orange tabby cat and commence life’s enjoyment.


Keeping it gangsta

Keeping it gangsta

Cockroaches it you squeamish? I’ve tried using my ninja-like skills to sneak up and slyly stomp them, but it’s hard to be ninja-like while openly weeping in galoshes. The best strategy here is to gently place cat near infected area and commence prayer.
Garden snake? Or new best friend? You decide, but I say befriend the enemy! They smell fear. Also name him Snakey- it’s emasculating**.
Soooo, that is basically what I’ve got for now. Likely a midlife crisis to follow in the next week or so, stay tuned.

*Note I live adorably.

**My actual tactic for each category is to first call my dad in hysterics followed up with an immediate panic-stricken call to my super.