Wednesday, November 30, 2011
The Person You Love to Hate
The person you love to hate.
We all have one.
This is the person you are facebook friends with and obsessively stalk their status updates for bad news. Not that you wish anything bad to happen to them per se, but you wouldn't necessarily be sad if their house burned down (without them in it of course, no need to get morbid here).
At every point in my life, I have had that person.
I think of it as an outlet for my anger and aggression toward the world all directed at one person who did me wrong at some point.
In high school, it was this girl who was a few years older than me (she was a senior, I was a sophomore). When I first met her I thought she was omgsoawesome. My mom would ask me why an older girl would want to be friends with me...I thought she was just being cynical. I'm totally not saying my mom was right here, because I would NEVER say that, it's just that this particular girl did end up being a bad apple.
And then it happened. Bitch stole my man.
Stupid me, being young and in love and forgiving, took him the boyfriend and tried to repair my friendship with her.
I know you can guess where this is going. Bitch stole my man AGAIN. Clearly I should've seen that one coming.
Let the high school war ensue. Back then, we all had pagers instead of cell phones (wow I'm dating myself here) and I would constantly page her with "04 04 04 04 04"....which, if you are unfamiliar with the beeper lingo...is "ho ho ho ho ho" when you turn it upside down. Yeah. I was super mature at that age.
She in turn would rustle up the townies (as in, sluts, skanks, and losers that had dropped out of high school and were pumping gas or busing tables at one of the two bars in the tiny ass town I grew up in) and sit outside my place of employment (Dunkin Donuts!) and try to egg me on to come outside and fight with her. In my men's khaki pants, sexy visor, and drive thru headset. As if that was going to happen. She would always conveniently leave before my shift was over.
Eventually this all fizzled out and I grew up. Well, I got older anyway.
And then one day, she sent me a friend request on MySpace (remember that? It was the facebook of the early 2000's). I debated about accepting, but in the end curiosity got the better of me. Next thing I know, she had typed me a big long message about how sorry she was she ruined my life in high school, etc etc.
Ho, don't flatter yourself. You didn't ruin my life. And you're still a ho :)
As an adult, I still like to hate follow the girl from high school on Facebook (she lives in a trailer somewhere down south with two kids by different fathers...see what I said about the ho business?? I was right on with that).
And I picked up a few more along the way. A girl from college, a girl from my first real job, and recently, a fellow blogger.
Sure, it would be easy to just forgive and forget, but really, what's the fun in that??
I think it's fun to hate people.
We all have one.
This is the person you are facebook friends with and obsessively stalk their status updates for bad news. Not that you wish anything bad to happen to them per se, but you wouldn't necessarily be sad if their house burned down (without them in it of course, no need to get morbid here).
At every point in my life, I have had that person.
I think of it as an outlet for my anger and aggression toward the world all directed at one person who did me wrong at some point.
In high school, it was this girl who was a few years older than me (she was a senior, I was a sophomore). When I first met her I thought she was omgsoawesome. My mom would ask me why an older girl would want to be friends with me...I thought she was just being cynical. I'm totally not saying my mom was right here, because I would NEVER say that, it's just that this particular girl did end up being a bad apple.
And then it happened. Bitch stole my man.
Stupid me, being young and in love and forgiving, took him the boyfriend and tried to repair my friendship with her.
I know you can guess where this is going. Bitch stole my man AGAIN. Clearly I should've seen that one coming.
Let the high school war ensue. Back then, we all had pagers instead of cell phones (wow I'm dating myself here) and I would constantly page her with "04 04 04 04 04"....which, if you are unfamiliar with the beeper lingo...is "ho ho ho ho ho" when you turn it upside down. Yeah. I was super mature at that age.
She in turn would rustle up the townies (as in, sluts, skanks, and losers that had dropped out of high school and were pumping gas or busing tables at one of the two bars in the tiny ass town I grew up in) and sit outside my place of employment (Dunkin Donuts!) and try to egg me on to come outside and fight with her. In my men's khaki pants, sexy visor, and drive thru headset. As if that was going to happen. She would always conveniently leave before my shift was over.
Eventually this all fizzled out and I grew up. Well, I got older anyway.
And then one day, she sent me a friend request on MySpace (remember that? It was the facebook of the early 2000's). I debated about accepting, but in the end curiosity got the better of me. Next thing I know, she had typed me a big long message about how sorry she was she ruined my life in high school, etc etc.
Ho, don't flatter yourself. You didn't ruin my life. And you're still a ho :)
As an adult, I still like to hate follow the girl from high school on Facebook (she lives in a trailer somewhere down south with two kids by different fathers...see what I said about the ho business?? I was right on with that).
And I picked up a few more along the way. A girl from college, a girl from my first real job, and recently, a fellow blogger.
Sure, it would be easy to just forgive and forget, but really, what's the fun in that??
I think it's fun to hate people.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
I'm Secretly a 12 year old Girl
This past weekend I went to see Breaking Dawn Part 1.
I strongly considered buying a white hanes t-shirt and writing "Team Jacob!" in pink puff paint on it. And actually wearing it to the theatre. I assure you, I would not have been the only one wearing a twilight themed shirt.
But I didn't. I maintained at least SOME of my dignity...which was quickly crushed by the ticket counter woman who, when I asked for two tickets, looked at me with a judgemental look on her face and said with disgust, "two adults??"
If only she knew that I read all four twilight books in only a week (I basically did nothing else and my ex-boyfriend found the books in text file format so I could read them at work without anyone being the wiser.) That my friends, is dedication. And slightly tragic.
Anyway, the movie did not disappoint. Naturally, the book is always better than the movie, but I look at the movies as just another way to indulge my inner twelve year old and try to keep them seperate from the books.
Mainly because when I read the books, I did not picture Kristen Stewart or Robert Pattinson. Kristen Stewart is too much of a twat with a man voice and there is nothing remotely attractive about Robert Pattinson to me. Taylor Lautner however, was more than I imagined. Yes, I'm 29 and would do dirty dirty dirty things to that boy. Hey, he's legal.
So is Justin Bieber almost, but that's a story for another post.
I strongly considered buying a white hanes t-shirt and writing "Team Jacob!" in pink puff paint on it. And actually wearing it to the theatre. I assure you, I would not have been the only one wearing a twilight themed shirt.
But I didn't. I maintained at least SOME of my dignity...which was quickly crushed by the ticket counter woman who, when I asked for two tickets, looked at me with a judgemental look on her face and said with disgust, "two adults??"
If only she knew that I read all four twilight books in only a week (I basically did nothing else and my ex-boyfriend found the books in text file format so I could read them at work without anyone being the wiser.) That my friends, is dedication. And slightly tragic.
Anyway, the movie did not disappoint. Naturally, the book is always better than the movie, but I look at the movies as just another way to indulge my inner twelve year old and try to keep them seperate from the books.
Mainly because when I read the books, I did not picture Kristen Stewart or Robert Pattinson. Kristen Stewart is too much of a twat with a man voice and there is nothing remotely attractive about Robert Pattinson to me. Taylor Lautner however, was more than I imagined. Yes, I'm 29 and would do dirty dirty dirty things to that boy. Hey, he's legal.
So is Justin Bieber almost, but that's a story for another post.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Assaulted by Yankee Candle
As I was on my way into Whole Foods to meet a friend or dinner the other night, I was hit by the scent of Christmas trees.
This scent happens to be one of my favorites in the entire universe.
I always had real trees growing up and never understood how people could have fake ones. The appeal of the real tree is the scent.
Feeling nostalgic and having time to kill, I wandered over to Yankee Candle with the intent of buying one of their christmas tree scented candles.
I typically avoid Yankee Candle at all costs, because let's face it, walking into that store is like being punched in the face. It's a full scale nasal assault that inevitably results in a massive headache and a much lighter wallet because for some reason, Yankee Candle feels it necessary to charge out the ass for wax.
Anyway, back to my story.
I walk into Yankee Candle and after regaining my composure after the initial slap to the face, I spotted their holiday display. Thinking this would be an easy in-and-out mission, I was to be disappointed on that front.
Why you ask??
Because Yankee Candle no longer has JUST a Christmas tree candle. Now there is Holiday Garland, Cedar and Balsam, Christmas Wreath, and a whole slew of others that smell eerily similar to a christmas tree. I sniffed and sniffed, trying to find the one that most resembled the scent of the real christmas trees I had smelled earlier.
After about ten minutes of alternately sniffing holiday garland and christmas wreath, my sniffer was officially overwhelmed. Confused and bewildered by all the choices in front of me (I do not handle multiple options well, I am easily overwhelmed), I finally just settled on christmas wreath.
Now I had to figure out how much I was going to pay. They have handy dandy charts strategically hidden in the hopes that you will get frustrated trying to locate the price and just buy the candle anyway without regard to cost because you're tired of wandering around trying to find said handy dandy chart. However, I was not to be duped into just buying. I located a chart and was once again confused and bewildered.
You see, Yankee Candle has about fifteen types of candles. And they aren't labeled.
I then had to pick up multiple candles in an effort to discern which was a "medium tumbler" or a "large jar." What. the. fuck.
It was trying to figure out how much the Christmas Wreath candle was going to cost that finally did me in. I just was not strong enough to handle it. I reshelved my candle and left the store empty handed, with a headache, and extremely frustrated.
Then I remembered...this is why I avoid this store.
This scent happens to be one of my favorites in the entire universe.
I always had real trees growing up and never understood how people could have fake ones. The appeal of the real tree is the scent.
Feeling nostalgic and having time to kill, I wandered over to Yankee Candle with the intent of buying one of their christmas tree scented candles.
I typically avoid Yankee Candle at all costs, because let's face it, walking into that store is like being punched in the face. It's a full scale nasal assault that inevitably results in a massive headache and a much lighter wallet because for some reason, Yankee Candle feels it necessary to charge out the ass for wax.
Anyway, back to my story.
I walk into Yankee Candle and after regaining my composure after the initial slap to the face, I spotted their holiday display. Thinking this would be an easy in-and-out mission, I was to be disappointed on that front.
Why you ask??
Because Yankee Candle no longer has JUST a Christmas tree candle. Now there is Holiday Garland, Cedar and Balsam, Christmas Wreath, and a whole slew of others that smell eerily similar to a christmas tree. I sniffed and sniffed, trying to find the one that most resembled the scent of the real christmas trees I had smelled earlier.
After about ten minutes of alternately sniffing holiday garland and christmas wreath, my sniffer was officially overwhelmed. Confused and bewildered by all the choices in front of me (I do not handle multiple options well, I am easily overwhelmed), I finally just settled on christmas wreath.
Now I had to figure out how much I was going to pay. They have handy dandy charts strategically hidden in the hopes that you will get frustrated trying to locate the price and just buy the candle anyway without regard to cost because you're tired of wandering around trying to find said handy dandy chart. However, I was not to be duped into just buying. I located a chart and was once again confused and bewildered.
You see, Yankee Candle has about fifteen types of candles. And they aren't labeled.
I then had to pick up multiple candles in an effort to discern which was a "medium tumbler" or a "large jar." What. the. fuck.
It was trying to figure out how much the Christmas Wreath candle was going to cost that finally did me in. I just was not strong enough to handle it. I reshelved my candle and left the store empty handed, with a headache, and extremely frustrated.
Then I remembered...this is why I avoid this store.
It Sucks Getting Old
Here I am in my 29th year. Approaching 30.
Truthfully I have no problem with turning 30. Many of my friends have treated turning 30 as the kiss of death, but I don't feel that way. To me, age is just a number (as evidenced by my affinity for older men).
However, what I do have a problem with are visible signs of aging. Pretty soon, I am going to resemble this chick...
I recently started noticing hyperpigmentation under my eyes that I immediately treated with an onslaught of various corrective creams. Thankfully I have actually seen some results (Clinique Dark Spot Corrector really does work).
Yesterday morning, I noticed something horrifying.
STRETCH MARKS ON MY INNER THIGHS.
I about died in the bathroom upon seeing those hideous purple marks. This is exactly what I need...a visual reminder to whoever ventures down into that area that I am no sixteen year old virgin. My vagina cries in sympathy.
My first act was to slather the areas with moisturizer to hinder any further marks and ran right out to get another shopping cart full of magic creams to fix this particular issue.
Why must my skin betray me? Thank god I have yet to spy any wrinkles.
It sucks getting old.
Truthfully I have no problem with turning 30. Many of my friends have treated turning 30 as the kiss of death, but I don't feel that way. To me, age is just a number (as evidenced by my affinity for older men).
However, what I do have a problem with are visible signs of aging. Pretty soon, I am going to resemble this chick...
I recently started noticing hyperpigmentation under my eyes that I immediately treated with an onslaught of various corrective creams. Thankfully I have actually seen some results (Clinique Dark Spot Corrector really does work).
Yesterday morning, I noticed something horrifying.
STRETCH MARKS ON MY INNER THIGHS.
I about died in the bathroom upon seeing those hideous purple marks. This is exactly what I need...a visual reminder to whoever ventures down into that area that I am no sixteen year old virgin. My vagina cries in sympathy.
My first act was to slather the areas with moisturizer to hinder any further marks and ran right out to get another shopping cart full of magic creams to fix this particular issue.
Why must my skin betray me? Thank god I have yet to spy any wrinkles.
It sucks getting old.
Friday, November 25, 2011
The Inaugural Post
Welcome readers!
I appreciate you gracing me with your presence at this little piece of the internet I like to call mine.
Perhaps you are wondering what the hell this is all about. Well I will tell you.
This is my random life. Or at least, as much as I choose to tell you about.
I will let you in on a little secret. I used to have a healthy living blog. Years ago, I had an entertainment blog with my now ex-boyfriend. So I am no stranger to this whole blogging thing.
That being said, this time around, I am not pigeon-holing myself into writing about only one subject...because if you know me in real life, you know I have a lot to say about a lot of things. And I need a platform to share all of that with the world. Call me a narcissist.
I am also not going to make the mistake of making this blog as public as the previous ones were. As much as possible, I am going to remain anonymous (except to my friends that I let in on this little secret part of the internet of course).
I plan to write about a variety of topics, including the subjects of my previous two blogs. I am going to post whatever the fuck I want to post. If people read it and like it, great, if not, oh well.
This is my space and I am going to keep it authentic to me.
So as I said, thanks for gracing me with your presence and I hope you will continue to do so.
Read on, bitches.
I appreciate you gracing me with your presence at this little piece of the internet I like to call mine.
Perhaps you are wondering what the hell this is all about. Well I will tell you.
This is my random life. Or at least, as much as I choose to tell you about.
I will let you in on a little secret. I used to have a healthy living blog. Years ago, I had an entertainment blog with my now ex-boyfriend. So I am no stranger to this whole blogging thing.
That being said, this time around, I am not pigeon-holing myself into writing about only one subject...because if you know me in real life, you know I have a lot to say about a lot of things. And I need a platform to share all of that with the world. Call me a narcissist.
I am also not going to make the mistake of making this blog as public as the previous ones were. As much as possible, I am going to remain anonymous (except to my friends that I let in on this little secret part of the internet of course).
I plan to write about a variety of topics, including the subjects of my previous two blogs. I am going to post whatever the fuck I want to post. If people read it and like it, great, if not, oh well.
This is my space and I am going to keep it authentic to me.
So as I said, thanks for gracing me with your presence and I hope you will continue to do so.
Read on, bitches.
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