It’s About to Get Girly as Fuck in Here.

23 Feb

I think I’ve admitted this before… I’m a closet girly-girl. And I don’t really care what people think of that.

Give me eye shadows in a multitude of colors, give me a mani/pedi with a hot-stone calf massage, give me a day of having my hair cut/colored/conditioned. Give me an unlimited budget to create an entirely new wardrobe (after I drop the 30lbs I’d like to get rid of, of course). Give me jewelry and pretty, shiny things,  give me pretty perfume bottles that smell like heaven and I’m in love. So many of my friends find this information shocking… they say it doesn’t seem to fit my personality, because I’m so straight to the point.

This whole girly-girl thing seems to get worse as I get older. My taste has become more refined, my interest in making sure I leave the house looking put together has grown exponentially since my high school and college days. The only thing standing in my way? My budget. I have wickedly expensive taste… for instance, my new cosmetic obsession? NARS. Their colors are beautiful, and their quality is top-notch.

I'll take three of each, please.

I’m really, really sad how expensive this stuff is. Twenty eight bucks for a blush. Good. Christ. I’m currently talking myself out of blowing my next commission check on their entire line…

I’m not really sure where this whole girly-girl thing comes from… I think I just like feeling pretty. Yes, that sounds shallow and vapid and insipid, but damnit, it’s true. I like getting all dolled up, and I like the compliments it brings. I believe a swipe of lipstick, a touch of mascara, and a spritz of perfume is sometimes all it takes to lift my mood. Ladies, don’t tell me not one of you agrees with me. There is something about LOOKING good that makes you FEEL good. If that weren’t the case, why would so many people be on a quest to lose weight, or get plastic surgery, or change their hair? Call me shallow, I don’t really care. I feel my best when I look my best – and as far as I’m concerned there are also different types of “look my best.” Whether it be for work, or casual, or lounging around my house… I know I can “look my best” in my uniform, jeans and a sweater, or nothing at all. Recently, some jackass called me “high maintenance” because I told him I was headed to get a manicure and a spa pedicure. I don’t think being a girly-girl means I can’t hang with the boys and play video games or drink beers. I don’t think it makes me unrelatable to other women. I’d like to know when caring about how I look/smell/dress became “high maintenance”? I don’t expect anyone else to pay for these habits/routines, and I don’t go overboard. I will occasionally run out of the house in yoga pants, a hoodie, and sneakers to run errands (but only throwing a hat on over my hair). I don’t wear makeup to the gym, unless I’ve applied it earlier in the day for another occasion. I don’t really know where I’m going with this rant, so I’ll stop here. The goal was to get out 500 words to be the writer’s block, and I did it. Go me.  

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On Today’s Episode: An Open Letter to My Anonymous Harasser.

8 Feb

This one goes out to anyone who’s ever had someone harass them anonymously. It goes out to anyone who has had to deal with unfounded, undeserved, immature bullshit. It goes out to anyone who has handled that unfounded, undeserved, immature bullt

Dear Whomever You May Be:

Thank you. Thank you for being pathetic. Thank you for being a coward. Thank you for not having the cajones or ovaries to confront me about your issues like an adult. Thank you for annoying the ever loving shit out of me on a near daily basis. Thank you for demanding I stop talking to a particular individual.  Thank you for calling me the vulgar names that you have called me, for trying to break me down, and for attempting to break my stride. Thank you for pissing me off.  Thank you.

I know thanking you makes me sound, well, just as crazy as you are, but allow me to continue before passing judgement. There’s a method to my madness.

I thank you for being pathetic and weak because it shows me how strong I am.

 I thank you for being a coward because it’s a reminder to face things head-on, instead of burying my head in the sand like an ostrich.

I thank you for not having the cajones or ovaries to confront me about your issues like an adult because it reminds me how far I’ve come; it reminds me that five years ago, I would have stooped to your level and tried to retaliate.

I thank you for annoying the everloving shit out of me because it’s taught me how to brush simple annoyances away, as though they don’t even exist.

I thank you for demanding I stop talking to that individual because in light of all this, it’s taught me they may not be as good a friend as I had once thought. It has reminded me that I DESERVE BETTER.

I thank you for the vulgar names that you have called me, for trying to break me down, and for attempting to break my stride because it shows me how small you truly are. It shows me that you view me as a threat. It shows me that you’re more insecure than even I was at one point in my life, and it makes me feel sorry for you. It also shows me how far I’ve come, that I’m able to hold my head high and know that your harassment truly has nothing to do with me, and has everything to do with your own low self esteem.

I thank you for pissing me off because it drives me to be a better person. It drives me to be stronger. It drives me to continue to brush you off like the nothing you are.

Your serve, Bitch.

XOXO

The Mishap

  

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?!

 

 

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