Archive | May, 2012

I Got 99 Problems But Not Having Air Conditioning Ain’t One

26 May

Life in the first world is pretty sweet.  You can order just about anything to be delivered to your door: pizza, wings, groceries, shoes, clothes, even hookers.  We have running water and electricity.  Many of us even have TVs with too many channels to know what to do with.  There are tons or radio stations to choose from.  Aisles and aisles upon shit we don’t need at the grocery store.  We even have access to restaurants who only specialize in grilled cheese.

That’s pretty amazing.

You know what my favorite first world amenity is?  Air conditioning.  Sweet, sweet air conditioning.

Being hot and sweaty makes me angry.  Stepping outside and being hit with 90 degree heat is enough to make me want to break shit.  It’s important to have a respite from such things.  That’s why I love my central air in my house and the air conditioning in my house.  Amazing.  And awesome.

When my sister and I were growing up in Virginia, I remember how fucking hot the summers would get.  She, the dog, and I would fight over who got to lay in front of the fan in the hallway.  We poor sweaty little children were grumpy the bulk of the summer.  It always confused me when my mother would tell us to go play outside.  First of all, we hated being outdoors, second, it was hotter than sin.  For us the best thing to do under such things was lay as still as possible and hope that there would suddenly be a freak windstorm in the house.

It wasn’t until years later we found out the house had air conditioning it, but my mother chose not to turn it on.  You know why she didn’t turn it on?  Because she was born and raised in Mexico, in the third world.  Not cool, mom.  Not cool.  Literally, not cool.

(Not) Bringing Sexy Back

24 May

Justin Timberlake would be so very disappointed right now.

You know what’s super sexy?  Just a hint of cleavage.

You know what totally ruins it?  A giant pimple visible in the hint of cleavage.

Hurray!  Just in time for the holiday weekend my body has decided it would be best for a disgusting white head to appear on the top of my right boob.  What the hell is that about?

I’ve been fortunate in my life.  Yes, there were breakouts when I was a teenager.  No, I never had bacne.  Sure, I’ll admit to rogue pimple from time to time on Vangelina Jolie (which makes me cry and want to freak out and break things).  Do you have any idea how difficult it is to hide that from someone who’s all up in your junk?  That’s a story for another day.  This story is about the giant pimple, who will henceforth be known as “The Situation.”

The Situation, aptly named after the douche bag jack ass from The Jersey Shore, has decided the holiday weekend is the perfect time to make an appearance.  YES!  Totally stocked that my own body is acting as a cock blocker.

Best week ever.  Take that, Vh1!

You, Sir, Are a Major A-hole

23 May

Jesus Harold Christ!  What the hell is wrong with people??  FOR THE LOVE!!

Sure, maybe it has something to do with the fact that I’m PMSing.  OR maybe it has something to do with people being assholes.

So get this.  Being the stupid idiot that I am I decided to put my dating profile back on the interwebs.  Why?  Because my ovaries cry for a baby.  That’s another story for another day.  Anyway, this time around I’ve decided to respond to they bulk of messages, even if it’s to tell them we’re not compatible.

This evening a dude with a stupid username, let’s call him DOUCHEBAG777 sent me a message.  First red flag?  The fact that the only pic on his profile is about his chest.  Second red flag?  The fact that there are so many spelling errors on his profile?  Third red flag?  The fact that we have very little in common.  For example:

  • He is a racist, I am not.
  • He is a homophobe, I am not.
  • He is a sexist, I am a woman.
  • He’s looking for a short term relationship with a woman with low self esteem, I want to punch him in the mouth even though I don’t know what his face looks like
  • He’s looking for girls anywhere from 22-45, I’m looking for dudes 34-44 and he is 52
  • He is a douche, I am not

I wrote back and said thank you for the message, I took a look at his profile and it doesn’t look like we have much in common, then I wrote, “good luck with your search.”  Usually dudes don’t respond, or the write back and say “you too.”  This guy?  He got pissed and wrote, “You’re so rude!  You didn’t even answer my question.  I asked you why you moved.”

Dear DOUCHEBAG777, it’s no wonder you’re single.  You dick.

Because I’m 12

23 May

It’s no surprise to you that I snicker at stupid and immature stuff all the time.  Most of the day it requires tremendous effort on my part not to yell “THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID” any time someone makes an inadvertent sexual comment.  I’ll be honest.  Sometimes I can’t control myself.

For example, in my monthly meeting with my boss the other day, she was talking about ways I could improve at work and how I could set myself apart from the rest of my peers and distinguish myself.  At the end of her suggestions, she added, “those are some things you can do to get on top.  Trust me.  Being on top feels great.”  I mean really.  How can you expect me to not say anything with that??  She basically laid it out for me for God’s sake (just like your mom).

Last night I went to a yoga class for the first time in a year.  For the bulk of the time I was busy silently cursing the instructor because he was one of those militant yoga teachers.  Yoga is supposed to be about mind and body and listening to what your body tells you.  You’re not supposed to force yourself into positions if they cause pain (that’s what she said) – guess he missed that day in yoga teacher school.  Man, it was brutal.  I hated the whole entire class, right up until the moment when the girl across from me farted.  Full on farted.

Picture it.  The room is quiet, there’s some low yoga-ish music playing in the background.  We’re all trying to force ourselves into poses.  We’re in two lines, so the people in front of me are facing me.  And suddenly the silence is broken with a giant fart.

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to hold a yoga pose when you’re trying not to laugh?

Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

22 May

Ever notice how when something goes shitty in life then one of two things happens: either something even more shitty happens, or the universe send you a lifeline.  I got a mix of the two today.  Shitty, because of who it’s from.  Lifeline because it’s a reminder of how fucking amazing I am.

Get this.  No, really, GET THIS!!  My ass should be a natural treasure, because you know why?  When dudes tap it they get totally hypnotized and can’t let go and four fucking years later they still email and text you and try to get you to sleep with them.  You know who I’m talking about?  Yeah, you know who I’m talking about.  3 fucking D.

It’s been two months since the last exchange of text messages, and out of the blue he sends me a message.  I’ll admit, I’m in a vulnerable place so I go ahead and respond.  Check out the messages below (he’s in the white bubbles, and I’m the green).


Can you fucking believe that shit??

Add it to my Shit List

21 May

You know what’s awesome?

When, after years, of not really liking anyone you finally meet someone and you click. Okay, so maybe you’ve known each other for a little while, and you didn’t consider them, but then something changes. And he pursues you, but you’re kind of stupid to notice until he makes some overt comment, so you’re like, “Whoa. What a minute. Does he like me?” And then you’re like, “Yeah, he does like me.” But you think you don’t like him so you don’t do anything only to realize that you kind of do like him.

That’s kind of awesome.

And then he invites you to go on a trip with him because he won some award at work, but you say no because you committed yourself to a baby shower for a really close friend of yours. But really part of the reason you said no is because you don’t want him to see your fat thighs in a swimsuit and you don’t want all your friends to know what’s going on until you figure out. And you would totally bail on the baby shower but your friend would be devastated so instead of going off to a luxury vacation in the tropics you eat crab cakes and cupcakes and stuff two dozen balloons in the back of your Toyota Corolla and almost kill yourself.

But leading up to his trip stuff kind of starts happening and it almost feels like this could be the beginning of something instead of the beginning of nothing. Like after you go to brunch with some friends and suddenly he kicks the text messages into high gear. And you’re like, “Is this happening? This totally might happen.” And suddenly he makes comments about how you’re beautiful and you’re interesting. And then a few weekends later you’re at a baseball game together and he is ALL OVER you and he is super handsy and even your friend makes a comment about what’s up with you and you’re like, “NOTHING!” even though you totally hope there is something there. And he brings up the trip again and what a bummer it is that you can’t go and how after you said no he asked two other girls to go but he was flying solo and you’re like, “thank God,” in your own mind so you tell him you will totally go next year and he’s like, “Deal!”

Then you get home and the text messages start up again and he starts telling you about how he bought this outfit for the next brunch because he knows you’d like it, and he talks about his upcoming birthday and how he totally wants to get on you and you think, “Wait. Does he just want to sleep with me?” But you think, “No, because if that was the case he wouldn’t tell you you’re beautiful or drop $150+ on a pair of fucking seersucker pants,” that he knows you’d like. So you’re like almost over the moon and kind of swooning a little bit and you start wondering about your first date and when you’re gonna make out and you think, “Maybe I’ll offer to take him out on his birthday in July” but you don’t say anything because you don’t want him to know you like him. And it’s totally going well in your mind.

But then it all falls to shit.

So the time comes for him to leave on his trip and there was this kind of strange exchange via text message like two days before the trip and he just stops all together. So you just chalk it up to him getting ready to go while you’re secretly analyzing every single fucking word you wrote in your last message. Then he’s off while you stay here to get ready to go to that damn shower and you think he’s off tanning at the beach all by his lonesome because that’s what he told you like a week and a half before he left.

AND THEN you find out that he asked someone else to go on the trip and he neglected to tell you, which kind of explains why he stopped texting you like two days before he left on his trip when you were wondering what was up. But you’re pissed because he didn’t happen to mention it in the week leading up to his departure when he was busy telling you how much fun you would have had if you were together on the trip and did you think that maybe that fun could happen back here. And you’re also pissed because the way you found out is because you happen to check out his facebook page and see a comment from some random girl who said she couldn’t wait for the trip. And you just happen to click on her page and oh, guess what? It’s open so you can stalk her. And you totally do because you’re dying to know what the fuck is up and why he hadn’t mentioned anything to you about her. But at the same time it’s not like he owed anything to you because it’s not like you were dating and you wouldn’t have told him if you were with someone else. Except for you’re kidding yourself because you totally would have said something to see his reaction but he didn’t say anything so you’re so confused and you don’t understand what the hell happened.

So the days go by and you don’t say anything to anyone because you feel like a total loser for falling into this whole mess. And at the same time you wondered if you misjudged her going on the trip and maybe they’re just friends. And you’re totally hoping he reaches out to you when he gets back from his trip. So the day comes and goes and there’s no message from him, so you’re totally bummed out and you kind of want to cry but you think he’s too big of a jerk to deserve any of your tears but you kind of can’t help yourself because you were so excited for something to happen and now that something is totally nothing. So maybe you shed a couple of tears and then you eat a bag of chips to make yourself feel better.

Then you wake up the next morning and you think, “Fuck him!” and you give yourself a pep talk. Which works for a few hours, but then, when you’re home alone you start going down that path again and you’re wondering what’s up with that whore faced whore who went with him. So you just go ahead and stalk her facebook page. And on that page, on that horrible awful facebook page that is like lemon juice to the papercuts in your ego you see a picture. A picture from a trip YOU should have gone on. Her cover picture on her facebook page is of the two of them snuggling up on one another.

That is totally not awesome.

And then you blog about it.

True fucking story.

I missed my chance

20 May

It’s been a full year since I found someone I was interested in being with.  I’ve known him for over a year now, and when I first met him I thought, “no way.”  Here we are a year later and I want to have him for myself.  There’s something about him.  He’s definitely not my type – are they ever?  Maybe it’s that he’s broken.  Maybe it’s that he pays attention to me.  I don’t know.  He flirted with me from the beginning, and perhaps I read into the flirting more than I should have.

We’ve talked about how we’re both so insecure, in different ways.  He’s someone who feels he needs to be with someone because he doesn’t want to feel like a loser.  I’d rather be alone so I don’t get left.  At first I thought, “why would I want to be with someone like that”?  I’d be afraid that if we got involved he’d reach a point where he wanted out but he was too chicken shit to say the words.

He finally broke up with his girlfriend, and about two months ago he invited me to go to Cancun with him.  I couldn’t go because I was locked into plans on one of those days.  But since the invite something changed for me and I started liking him.  I REALLY like him.  Like want him to myself like him.  I kind of thought he liked me that way too.  He kicked it up a notch in the last month, and both times I saw him he was kind of handsy.  He said things to me – and maybe he was joking, I don’t know.

Then there were conversations of what it would have been like if we had gone to Mexico together.  Perhaps I’m reading more into it than I should.  I know he’d sleep with me given a chance, but I want more than that.  I thought with more time something would unfold, but I was wrong.

He’s scheduled to come back from Mexico today, and this morning I found out he took someone else with him.  She was fifth on his list and a last minute thing, but he took her.  And I know based on our conversations he would take someone he wanted to sleep with.  So he has.  And I’m left in the dust.

I hate this feeling.  It’s so rare for me to find someone I want to be with, and I hate when it’s not reciprocated.  It makes me feel so awful about myself.  It’s so lonely.  So I’m sitting in my fucking pajamas on a beautiful day and all I want to do is cry.  Not so much over him as about how worthless I feel in this moment.  I’m royally bummed about wondering what it would have been like, but I’m more sad over how I feel about myself.