Bitches. Are. Crazy. (No Joke.)

12 Jan

I have touched on this subject before, but I would like to head back into territory that is probably going to piss some people off. Perhaps if it pisses you off, it’s because it applies to you…

Ladies, here we go.

STOP. HATING. ON. EACH. OTHER.

Easy as that. Admittedly, I have been guilty of this in the past. Additionally, I have been a victim of it as well.  We all have. We have  hated on each other since roughly the beginning of time, and I’ve come to realize, it’s some bullshit.  Here is my plea, to KNOCK IT OFF. KNOCKITTHEFUCKOFF.

Females tend to hate on each other for the following reasons:

1. Jealousy

2. Some uncalled for sense of competition

3. Jealousy

So let’s say you’re out with a group of guys, and an attractive female walks into the room. The guys, being well… guys, they all begin to stare and/or comment about the attractiveness/fuckability of said female.

Do you:

A) Quickly find or fabricate a flaw and announce it to the group? (ex. “She has weird eyes.” “She’s too thin.” “She looks like a whore.”)

B) Ignore them and go about your business

C)  Compliment something about her (ex. “She’s really pretty.” “I love her shoes.” “I’d hit it if I were into chicks.”)

If you answered A, ladies, we really need to reevaluate some things. The guys you’re out with are hanging out with you. If one of them is your boyfriend, he is with you for a reason. Just because he looks at another chick doesn’t mean he doesn’t adore you. I’m not saying you can’t be a bit annoyed with the fact that he’s blatantly ogling, but get over it. You look too. If the guys you are hanging out with AREN’T your boyfriend, it’s clear they are your friends and enjoy spending time with you. Their commenting on another woman doesn’t make you less their friend… it makes them men. It’s what they do. Also, I have it on pretty good authority from guys that I’ve been involved with/friends with: nothing turns them off more than an insecure female.

For further elaboration, I give you Jenna Marbles:

Now,  reasons that makes it kind of okay to “hate on” another female:

1) She blatantly hit on your boyfriend/slept with your boyfriend/tried to sleep with your boyfriend KNOWING that he was your boyfriend.

2) She is just an awful bitch – however, to make this determination, you must converse with her/interact with her. No “I just know she’s a bitch because she looks like one” bullshit.

3) She has/is partaking in crazy stalker bitch behavior… ie. anonymous, unreasonable text messaging, harassment, shit talking, etc.

Now, this does not mean shit talking to anyone who will listen is acceptable. If you’re going to vent, do so to only one or two friends. Preferably not people who are mutual friends of hers. Furthermore, if you REALLY have beef… handle it like a grown ass woman and tell her about herself. Not publicly, but let her know what’s up. Maybe she’ll respect you for it and you two can move past it.

 

That’s it for now.

 

XOXO

 

So this is the year the world’s supposed to end? (I’m calling bullshit on that one)

5 Jan

Oh, you silly Mayans.

 
Well, here it is. A new year. This year, I’ve decided to abandon the traditional “New Year Resolution” bullshit. Why might that be, you ask? Because NO ONE EVER ACTUALLY STICKS TO THEIR NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONS. Ask any of your gym-rat friends how busy the gym is in January in comparison to how busy it is in February. The difference is huge – by the time the end of January rolls around, the resolutioners have dropped off, and the regulars don’t have to fight for machines and free weights anymore. How do I know this? My friends, the regulars, have told me so… you know, after I’ve stopped going to the gym around January 17th. Every year, I come up with some lofty list of changes I’ll be making for the better, and few of them stick. The year I resolved to quit smoking went fabulously – mainly because I was already a non-smoker. How about instead of making some grandiose resolution, I focus on making small changes that all work together to create a better, faster, stronger Mishap? Sound good to you? Either way, I don’t really care, and this concept shall henceforth be known as making New Years tweaks. Tweaks to my sleep habits, my cleaning routine, my exercise plan (meaning I should actually probably start exercising), etc. 
 
2012. Stop panicking, assholes. So according to the ancient Mayans, this is the beginning of the end. Our world is going to end sometime in December. Guess what – if that’s what is going to happen, we have no way of stopping it. There is nothing in our power that can be done to stop this. So for those of you freaking out, knock it the fuck off. Live your life as you always do, or maybe spice it up a bit to make the year worth it. I’d be willing to be, however, that we will all (well, most of us at least) still be here once the ball drops to indicate 2013 has rolled on in.
 
New year, new opportunities? Everyone loves the idea of the new year because, for some reason, it smacks of “fresh start.” I cannot tell you how many Facebook posts I’ve seen claiming “2012 is MY YEAR” or “I’m going to kick 2012′s ass” or “This will be the year my life doesn’t suck anymore.” Guess what? You make your own opportunities. You have control (in some way or another) to ensure your life doesn’t suck. WHY OH WHY do we get complacent during the middle months of the year, only to play the resolution “life changing” BS once midnight strikes on December 31. I know, I know. I sound like a cynical bitch. I’m not apologizing for it. ANY DAY OF THE YEAR is a great time to make changes for the better, to make decisions you should have made a while ago, to step up your game and to make something happen. Been meaning to lose weight or work out or eat healthier? DO IT. DO IT NOW. Don’t wait until the time it seems socially expected to make a change. Hate the relationship you’re in? End it. Don’t like your job? Figure out why, and either do something to fix it or find a new one. Was this supposed to be the year you penned the next Great American Novel? Start writing. Upon closer examination, this is some advice I’ll be taking myself. Strap yourselves in, that alone is going to be a bumpy ride. ANY day can be the first day of the rest of our lives – not some over-celebrated holiday that serves as amateur hour for any asshole to get belligerently drunk and black out for a few hours.
 
Keep your eye out – I’ll be posting here more often (yeah yeah, you’ve heard it before, blah blah). Just another New Years tweak from yours truly.
 
XOXO
 
 
 

 

Another year past…

1 Jan

Big thanks to all my readers… Let’s keep it rolling.

 

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 1,700 times in 2011. If it were a cable car, it would take about 28 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Things I’m Wicked Bad At (Shocking, right?)

7 Dec

I know, I know. You’d think I would be good at everything and anything I attempt. Truth is, there are a few things I’m simply AWFUL at. Ladies and gentleman, the things I suck at:

Hiding My Emotions

While I am a killer poker player (for real), you’d never know it by my complete inability to keep what I’m thinking/feeling from showing up written all over my face. The guys at work bust on me frequently because I struggle to hide my thoughts when a customer is being stupid/disrespectful/a jagoff/a pain in my ass/whatever. Smiling through it all is one of my biggest challenges, especially when my inner monologue is going off on a wicked diatribe. I cannot tell you how many times a day I have to smile through gritted teeth while thinking “You’re a fucking asshole, please go directly to hell.”  I’ve gotten better at this while at work, but in general, it isn’t pretty.  I scoured my photos on Facebook and on my computer to try and find some candid examples, and didn’t seem to have any. You’ll have to take my word on it.

Being Patient

That’s right, I just linked a GnR video. You’re welcome.
 
Anyway… Patience may be a virtue, but it’s one I don’t possess. Waiting is something I’m awful at. I get irritable and cranky, and GOD FORBID I have to wait for something I’ve been looking forward to. I become a rammy, ornery, obstinate five-year-old when having patience is required. This probably classifies me as an asshole, but I think I’m okay with it. This is partially because I know, try as I might, this is a character trait that is unlikely to change. Leopards don’t change their spots, and I don’t wait if I don’t have to.
 

Peeing in a Cup

Yeah, this one’s probably TMI

Okay, so… if you’re a female, and you’ve ever been to the ER for any reason, you know they will inevitably make you pee in a cup to make sure you’re not pregnant. They do this even if you tell them you’re NOT and that there is NO WAY you’re pregnant. If you’ve ever worked for corporate America, you’ve probably had to pee in a cup for a drug test. If you’ve ever suspected you may have a UTI, you’ve had to pee in a cup. Everyone has had to do this at least once in their life. Given my propensity for injury and my job, I’ve probably had to do this more than most. Here’s the thing, kids… I’m awful at it. Here’s how:

 
- The inevitable missing of the cup. Without fail, I cannot seem to hit the cup first try. This usually results in a wet hand, which is fucking gross.
-Dropping the cup. I have done this more than once… the cup lands in the toilet – also fucking gross.
-PEE BOMB. This is my most recent peeing-in-a-cup mishap. I was at the ER to have my dislocated knee checked out. I managed to NOT miss the cup, and feeling rather accomplished, I hobbled to set the cup on the sink so I could put the lid on it and wash my hands. Fate, elegant, cold-hearted whore that she is, decided there was NO way I was getting off easy. I lost my grip on the cup, and in what can only be described in a slow-motion moment of catastrophe, it dropped to the ground like a brick. Needless to say, a huge mess and my endless mortification followed.
 
Now that you all know far more about me than you’d ever care to, I’ll move it right along…
 
 
Doing Any Sort of Household Chore in a Timely Manner
I’m aware this is not a picture of housework. It’s a picture of a hot maid. You’re welcome. Again.

Okay, so check it out. If there is a way for me to put off laundry, dishes, vacuuming, etc without my house looking like a mess, I will find it. Housework is something I loathe. If I know I am having company, I generally wait until the last possible minute to get any general straightening done -you know, pillow fluffing, spot-dusting, blah blah. This fact probably leads you all to believe I live in  squalor, but this is the farthest thing from the truth – my place is clean. I just HATE cleaning it. I’m great at cleaning… I just prefer to procrastinate in doing so. I need a housekeeper.

 
 
Okay, so I know there is a shit ton more I could put on this list… I just don’t feel like it. I don’t need to give any of you lovely fuckers more of my shortcomings.
 
XOXO
 

To Go Paleo, or Not To Go Paleo? (I might be losing my mind)

16 Nov

See ya later, Wendy's.

 

I think I’ve mentioned in previous posts that I’m a bit of a hypochondriac. However, besides the maladies I come up with in my own head, I’m genetically blessed with the following:

-Hypoglycemia

-Gall Bladder Issues

-The Occasional Kidney Stone

-Fibromyalgia

-Migraines

-Asthma

Totally blows, right?? Almost all of the above are completely managed, without medication, thanks to my fabulous docs who listened to me when I said I didn’t want to be on crazy amounts of medication. I have occasional flare-ups here and there, and over all, it’s kind of a nuisance.  In talking to some of my friends, I’ve been tipped off about the Paleo Solution Diet. Basically, this diet has you eating like a caveman. No processed foods. From what I’ve read at www.robbwolf.com, this diet isn’t a fad diet, it’s a drastic change in lifestyle. It would mean cutting out bread, it would mean no quick stops at Wendy’s. It would mean no dipping fries in a frosty (which I’m doing as I write this post, by the way). No more Diet Coke, no more disgustingly fattening yet oh-so-delicious foods that I absolutely love.

One of the claims behind this whole Paleo Craze is that it will help eliminate health issues. Seeing as the kidney stones and gall stones can most certainly form because of things I put into my body, my interest is piqued. Am I capable of cutting out packaged, processed foods?

I have the book on order, and am anxiously awaiting its delivery. Rather than be a complete masochist, if I decide to jump in head first and completely change the way I eat, I’ll be doing so AFTER Thanksgiving. I’d be an idiot to pass up my grandmother’s stuffing, right?!

 

Have any of you gone Paleo? If so, what are your results?!

 

 

An Open Letter to Men Everywhere (listen up, fellas)

14 Nov

Dear Men,

First and foremost, I’d like to preface this letter with a bit of a mea culpa for us chicks. I’m breaking chick law by doing this, but I want to make it clear that neither gender is innocent or pure. So here’s the truth about us women. We’re crazy. We get moody for no reason, we change our minds at the drop of a hat, and we get cranky when you point this out to us. We expect you to read our minds and know when something is bothering us. We get jealous of other girls, even if they are no threat at all. We have insecurities that sometimes rear their ugly heads, and when we say everything’s “fine,” you better get to guessing what’s wrong, because everything is most definitely NOT fine. We take too long to get ready, and many of us talk too much. Get used to it, men. These are small sins you should probably get to forgiving.  A small sub-sector of our gender gives us a bad name for the following reasons: being high maintenance, gold-digging, behaving like a whore, walking all over you, using our “assets” to get what we want, and being an all-around wretched bitch. I will not defend these women, as I pretty much hate them as much as you do. Now, getting on with it…

Y’all are infuriating. As of late, my Twitter feed seems to be full of my female friends lamenting the wrongdoings of the guys in their lives. Yes, there is just as much moaning (not the pleasurable kind) coming from those of you who have penises, but based upon personal experience, you’re just as guilty as the ladies, if not more so. Here it is, men… what we women long for you to know.

  • The headgames have got to stop. Maybe you don’t even realize it, but you play them. We all do, whether it be intentional or not… but I’ve been the victim of this more than I care to admit. Whether it be the guy you were once in love with who keeps throwing you little tidbits here and there to string you along, making you think a chance at reconciliation could perhaps be on the horizon somewhere or the new guy who engages you in a weird power struggle in which both of you try to play it cool – so cool, in fact, that one or both of you loses interest and isn’t willing to make an effort anymore, it seems male/female interactions are hard pressed to not become riddled with psychological landmines. Here’s a thought. If you aren’t interested in a woman, don’t continue to do things that make her think you are. If you are interested in a woman, stop playing hard to get. I’d love to know the reason why being straight with someone has fallen to the wayside.
  • Don’t say things or promise things you don’t mean. This goes hand in hand with the game-playing. Believe it or not, generally within the first few minutes of meeting you, a woman has already made the decision as to whether or not she will sleep with you if the opportunity arises. Therefore, telling her you love her when you don’t, telling her you want her to have your children when you don’t, or essentially feeding her any bullshit you want to hear when trying to get those panties to drop is unnecessary. It’s grimy, it’s cruel, and it makes you an asshole. Additionally, making promises you have no intention of keeping is shitty. Really shitty. If you promise us a romantic evening, please deliver. You wouldn’t like it if we promised you a blowjob then didn’t deliver, would you? Didn’t think so. You wonder why leagues of women are quick to label all men as pigs? The propensity of some men to do whatever it takes to get a piece. Not all, as I refuse to generalize – I have many a guy friend who treats women with respect and who are genuinely good guys. Don’t bullshit us, and we won’t bullshit you.
  • If you want to break up or end things, don’t just disappear. Be a man. Tell us it isn’t working out anymore, and allow us to go our separate ways like grown ups. Years ago, a guy I was involved with just disappeared. He had someone else answer his cell and pretend that he had changed his number, and fell off the face of the earth. It wasn’t until almost a year later when we ran into each other on campus that we spoke again; he and I are friends now – believe it or not. He admitted that he fucked up and should’ve had the balls to just end things… his admission was the only reason I even considered talking to him again. This scenario happened before I was even 20 years old. A few friends of mine are going through this now – they were dating a guy, then BAM! He is either distant, disappears completely, or is overcome with such apathy that he can’t even ask “why?” when she cancels a date. Have the common decency to explain why you don’t want to be involved anymore. Women are overly-analytical creatures by nature, and will drive themselves crazy wondering what they did wrong to drive you away.
  • Don’t talk shit. We find out. We always, always find out. Don’t make shit up about us, don’t make lewd comments, and don’t tout your opinions on who we are or are not sleeping with if you don’t expect it to get back to us – it always does, and it pisses us off.
  • Own up. Take Responsibility. If you fuck up, just say so.  I have been involved in so many arguments with men during which they refuse to acknowledge any wrong-doing. Here’s a hint, boys. If you say, ” I was wrong,” or “I’m sorry. I fucked up,” us women don’t have much ammo to argue against that with. I know you feel admitting your wrong is a sign of weakness, but really, it’s probably a solid way to get out of that argument and move on to the makeup sex.
  • If you turn us down for sex, we will be hurt. Maybe you’re tired. Maybe it’s been a rough day. Maybe you just jerked off before our arrival to your home. Maybe you pulled a hamstring. Maybe you just don’t feel like having sex. We women tend to be in the habit of thinking men are up for getting down and dirty anywhere, anytime. Having spoken with many of my male friends about this, that is apparently a myth. Here’s the thing, men. If we take the initiative to make the first move in getting your pants off and you’re not in the mood, be gentle. Our occasionally insecure female brains will likely think you think something is wrong or unsexy about us and that whatever flaw that may be turns you off. Reassure us that this isn’t the case… and make sure to make us feel like a sex goddess later on when you’re in the mood. I promise, it’ll pay off.
  • Sometimes, we all have to be grown-ups. A recent complaint of many of my female friends is that the guy they are seeing is some sort of partially developed man-child. You know, that dude who has no sense of when the time to be an adult arises. The one who can’t get his shit together long enough to keep his commitments or have a serious conversation about anything. Personally, I love a guy who can find humor in any situation and make me laugh… even if he’s making me laugh at myself for being ridiculous. What I also love, though, is a guy who can get serious and handle business when necessary. Burying your head in the sand and being unwilling to face a situation head-on makes us question how you’ll handle things with us when they get serious.

Again, I’m not feigning innocence for the fairer sex here. If you check back a few posts, you will see I called the ladies out on their own list of unacceptable behaviors.

I think that’s all I have for now. Please take the above into consideration, and maybe we’ll try to stop driving you as crazy as we do.

XOXO,

The Walking Mishap

 

I Have a Problem (But it’s so, so delicious)

6 Nov

First of all, HAPPY NATIONAL ORGASM DAY!! That’s right, National Orgasm Day is a real thing. So, my darling readers, don’t forget to take  care of your special someone today (or yourself, if you’re unattached – everyone deserves a Big O today).

Anyway, I thought I’d fill you all in on this addiction that I’ve been battling for most of my adult life. Some people smoke, some drink to dependency. Others inject God knows what into their veins. I suppose my addiction is nowhere near on par with any of those things, however, it’s an expensive habit. It’s energy drinks.

SWEET, SWEET ENERGY.

ROCKSTAR. RED BULL. MONSTER. AMP. I can’t get enough of this shit. My initial addiction began my freshman year of college when I was waitressing at Bennigan’s, working at CelNet selling phones,  and going to school full-time. I was often going from class straight to one job, only to head from there to the next job. At that point in my life I hadn’t yet acquired my love of coffee, so I sought an energy boost elsewhere. I would drink a Red Bull on my way to class to help myself wake up, sip a Monster while selling phones, then chug a RockStar or three while waitressing to keep moving until our 1am closing time. I’d get home at 3am, sleep til 7 or 8am, and start it all over again. I kicked the habit a few times, much to the dismay of my family, friends, and coworkers, as I am a wretched bitch if I am not properly caffeinated by 10am.

Now that I’m out of college and on a fairly regular schedule, you’d think I’d get over it. Nope. Not so much. My bouts of insomnia and/or sleepwalking leave me unrested more often than not, and when I am at work, I have to be chipper and able to face the public. Enter my addiction to get me through the day. The problem is, moderation isn’t exactly a part of my extensive vocabulary. Every damn time I decide to quit these things because I’m back on a solid sleep schedule, something happens to knock me back off track, and I’ve got that stupid caffeine monkey on my back again. I’m pretty sure this vicious cycle will be the reason my heart explodes one day.

It always starts innocently enough… I get back on coffee. Then I start drinking roughly four to five cups a day. Who doesn’t love a great cuppa joe? Next thing you know, my ass is drinking energy drinks back to back, always knowing in the back of my mind that I’m going to end up feeling like a strung-out crack fiend within the hour.  I zip around like a fucking nut job, talking way too fast, completely unable to stand still, and annoying the ever-loving shit out of my coworkers. At least some of them think it’s funny.

I really should cut back and not be so goddamn impatient when it comes to letting the caffeine do its trick. However, patience is something I was born without, so instead, I OD on the regular. It looks a little something like this (yes, it’s another Jenna Marbles video. Get over it.):

So, kids… any recommendations on how to beat this one once and for all? For my own sanity, and the sanity of those around me, I really need to get over this chemical dependency… no matter how delicious it may be.

Yes, I AM Capable of Being a Lady (Sometimes), and YOU SHOULD BE TOO!

5 Nov

It has come to my attention, that we, as females, have managed to perpetuate giving ourselves a bad name…

This comes as no surprise, given the number of celebrity sex tapes and reality shows springing up left and right, highlighting just how scandalous women can be. Whatever happened to being sexy without being skanky?? At what point did self-respect and confidence morph into some dire need for attention, and seeking that attention in ways that make the rest of us look bad? Additionally, WHAT IS WITH ALL THE SHIT TALKING? Perhaps this post could be considered shit-talking, but I’m the one in charge here, so I’m saying it isn’t. This post is going to be blunt and honest, and it could possibly hurt some feelings. Get over it.

Ladies, here are my grievances:

  • Sex Tapes Gone Public. If you want to record what goes on in your bedroom, hotel room, hot tub, backyard, etc – that’s your deal. I’m not going to judge you on that point. HOWEVER, I will shake my head when you seem shocked and appalled if/when this tape somehow goes public. From Paris Hilton to Kim Kardashian to local girls who shall remain nameless and everyone in between, there have been tears and lawsuits and claims that it is NOT them in the tape. Bitch, please. Deal with the consequences and move on. There is no way to gracefully handle a sex tape scandal. Own up, apologize, and keep it movin’.
  • Drunk Bitches. Pot, meet kettle. My ass has been guilty of this one, but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve certainly calmed it down. Rather than go on a long rant to prove this point, I’m going to let my favorite YouTube poster and hetero-girl-crush, Jenna Marbles. I think the hits this dead on, with no need for elaboration.

              That’s all I’ve got to say about that.

  • Girl on Girl Hate. I’ve found that many females refuse to acknowledge when another chick is hot, pretty, beautiful, etc. Instead, they will find flaws – tiny, minute, irrelevant flaws. “Her eyes are three millimeters too close together.” “Her ears are weird.” BLAH BLAH BLAH. Not me. I’m secure enough in myself to recognize when another woman is beautiful.   I will straight up announce when I think another woman is pretty. If the guys I work with are drooling over a customer, I usually get a look of shock when I say “she was really pretty” when she leaves. In fact, there is a list of women I have hetero-girl-crushes on. For your viewing pleasure:

Gorgeous.

Why won't my hair do that??

Major Hetero Girl Crush

Simply Stunning

Ladies, knock it off with the criticisms and focus on the compliments. No one likes a bitch.

 
  • Creepy, Stalker Bitch Behavior. As a recent victim of anonymous text messages demanding I stop talking to a male friend of mine, I can say this: KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF. Texting, leaving notes on people’s cars, calling and hanging up, and any other form of harassment is OBNOXIOUS. Not only is it obnoxious, but it’s ILLEGAL. That’s right, there are laws against it. And don’t be surprised if/when the gloves come off while you’re anonymously messaging me – I WILL put you in your place, make you cry, and essentially destroy your self-esteem (which is probably already in the toilet since you’re coming at me as a nameless, faceless entity). Back in the day, my ex (who was my current boyfriend at the time) had this crazy ass ex girlfriend who went so far as to send me emails pretending to be someone anonymous broad who was sleeping with him. The immaturity it takes to pull some shit like this is astounding, not to mention the amount of free time one must have. She also left notes on my car, sent me harassing MySpace messages (yes, it was THAT far back in the day), and send people into my place of employment to call me a whore. So to all you insecure ladies out there who like to get a little psychotic now and again… KNOCK IT OFF. It isn’t cute, it’s sociopathic.

 

  • CYBER-THERAPY.  Your Twitter followers (for the most part) are NOT licensed therapists. I’m okay with some bitching here and there (we’re all guilty of it) but when your feed details your relationship problems and you’re using it as a sounding board to “show him who’s boss,” it’s time to grow the fuck up. For real.

I think that’s all I’ve got… I’m sure this will be expanded upon later.

 

Like Water Off a Duck’s Back (The Walking Mishap’s Guide to a Bad Day)

16 Oct

“Had a bad day, don’t talk to me, gonna ride this one out…” -Unwritten Law

We all have them on occasion. Those days when you simply wake up in a shitty, rotten mood; you can’t pinpoint the rhyme or reason behind it and often times, it’s a bitch to shake. I woke up this morning, having one of those days. It could be because I’m worried sick about my pup, Dexter, who doesn’t seem to be feeling well. Maybe it’s because I’m stressed about work and money and all sorts of things you worry about when you’re an adult. Perhaps tripping down my basement steps with a cup of coffee in hand on my way out the door to head to work egged this black cloud on. Either way, I got to work in a shit mood. Zero patience and customers who are just as shitty a mood as I am = AWFUL combination.

As I sit here on my lunch break with my mood slowly but surely improving, I figured I’d give you all MY solutions to shaking a shit mood without hurting anyone (no matter how much you may want to).

  • MUSIC. By now, I’m sure you’ve figured out I prefer my life with a soundtrack. When I get into moods like this, I will either listen to angry, angry punk rock, or some sort of upbeat stuff to try and rock myself out of said mood.  I find that silence only allows me to think more than I should, so cranking something with a solid tempo keeps me from getting too over-analytical. The type of shitty mood generally dictates the musical selection, but this one worked pretty well for me today:

  • SOMEONE ELSE’S MOOD. Often times, when we’re in a shit mood, we allow ourselves to wallow. We don’t WANT to feel better because… well, who the fuck knows. It’s human nature. Some of us (myself included) don’t enjoy seeing others in a good mood when we’re down  – misery loves company and all that. I’ve found, however, that letting someone else’s good mood rub off on you is a better idea than trying to bring them down with you. The only person who can keep you in a shitty mood is yourself – this is something I often forget. Two of the guys I work with are the happiest people I know – so it’s my mission today to let their positivity rub off on me.
  • COMFORT FOOD. As I’m sure you remember from my “Fatty” post, I love food. A lot. In fact, “eating my feelings” is something I do quite well. For me, food can be a mood booster. This is a mood fix that I don’t recommend leaning on as a crutch -it’ll get you plump in a hurry. However, the handful of Teddy Grahams I just munched on (less than a listed full serving) were a solid pick-me-up. All things in moderation – I find that one or two Hershey’s Kisses an boost my mood even just a little.
  • MAKE A PLAN. If there is something that is stressing you, lay out a plan to fix it. Simply working out a solution in your head and/or putting it on paper can make a problem that much less scary – it lets you see it’s manageable.
  • SOLITUDE CAN HURT OR HELP. Depending on the type of bad mood I’m in, being by myself can either improve it or it can only make it worse. Sometimes a bad mood is simply the result of needing to recharge – I think that’s where mine came from this week. I didn’t really have a “day off,” and dealing with people day in and day out at work can be taxing. In the 40min I’ve been sitting here in the backroom on my lunch break, my mood has improved ten-fold. I’ve got my headphones in, and I’m ignoring the world. Other days, when I wake up in a bad mood, surrounding myself by good company is the best medicine.
  • TAKE A DEEP BREATH. Or three or four or five. Close your eyes while doing it, and focus only on the breath. I know this sounds all kinds of new-agey, but in my experience, it’s a fantastic way to center yourself.

 

That’s all I’ve got for the moment… and I’m feeling better already. I guess I should throw “writing” on that list up there, huh?

 

 

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Being Grown Isn’t Half as Fun as Growing Up. (Random Musings from The Walking Mishap)

12 Oct

It’s been awhile since I’ve done a random musings post, so here it is.

  • I believe that owning a dog is a better antidepressant than any pharmaceutical company could ever manufacture. There is nothing like coming home to Dexter, my 9lb Maltipoo, after a bad day and seeing that little tail wagging, knowing he’s happy to have me home.
  • I am fairly certain I’m part psychic. Okay, so that may be a load of horseshit, but my intuition is creepily accurate, and I often go to pick up the phone to call someone just before it rings, with them calling me. This is probably coincidence, but it happens all the damn time.
  • I think Occupy Wall Street is a hypocritical clusterfuck. Let’s all protest America while tweeting from our iPhones and drinking Starbucks Venti Mocha Triple-Shot Vanilla Swill Lattes while mommy and daddy foot the bill for our educations and living expenses. I may be in the “99%” they speak of, but they don’t speak for me.
  • My car is named Bruce. I’m really not going to elaborate here, but it’s got something to do with the fact that some people seem to think it’s a Transformer and that it, being an inanimate object, actually has a sexual orientation. I’m leaving this one alone.
  • I seem to be migrating hardcore from Facebook onto Twitter. Since Facebook is trying to be what MySpace was, Twitter seems to be the new cool-kid hangout. Sure, it has its trolls and twatwaffles that you don’t want to associate with, but it’s pretty nifty.  Follow me… @walkingmishap
  • People have a penchant for calling me Sunshine. I cannot tell you how many people have called me this at one point or another, fairly consistently. I’d like to think it most often has to do with my sunny disposition, but have a feeling it is more related in a smart-assed way to my cynicism and loathing of mornings. I’ve been called this by many, but it holds special meaning for only one of them.
  • I have an addictive personality. Whether it comes to listening to the same album over and over again, my ever-growing coffee/Diet Coke dependency, food (by now you should have read my “I Refuse to Be a Fatty Ever Again” post), booze (not so much these days… moreso when I was younger), I get fixated. Some of these may classify as an actual addiction (my dependency on caffeine is a physical one at this point), while others may not, but I get very single-minded at times. A therapist once described this as having “addictive tendencies” and occasionally being “single-minded to the point of recklessness.”  I prefer the term “focused.” Considering parts of my family history, none of this is surprising.
  • I have this nagging, insatiable need to get another tattoo. The only thing holding me back is a lack of funds and my indecision on what I want/where I want to put it. I’ve got more than one idea, and I don’t know which I want to go for first.
  • Adele and The Horrible Crowes have both been on constant playlist repeat. If you haven’t listened to either of them, you need to. Now.
  • People don’t rock out nearly enough. One of my biggest cathartic activities is blasting angry boy rock at full volume and simply rocking the fuck out and singing along at the top of my lungs, no matter how off key I am. It may not fix my problems, but it sure as shit lets me get some aggression out. If more people did this, maybe there wouldn’t be so many angry motherfuckers out there.
  • As much as people think I play fast and loose with relationships and emotions, I really do believe in life-changing, heart-breaking, gut-wrenching love.  I’ve been there. I’ve felt it. I know it exists. Part of the reason I occasionally get ribbed for “dating like a guy” (this does not mean slut – this means I am not one to really get caught up in the games) is because I refuse to settle, and I’m not going to waste time on someone I’m not interested in.
  • I suffer from a touch of hypochondria. I used to suffer from more than just a touch – my family and friends had to ban me from WebMd a while back. All I can say about this is that it runs in the family, the hypochondria thing. Also, I’ve gotten much better… seeing as I haven’t diagnosed myself with a brain tumor in at least two years.

That’s all you’re getting for now… more to come soon, I’m sure.

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