Follow By Email

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Random Wine Induced Thoughts

A little while back I decided to have a glass of wine. That one glass turned into 6 or 8 and before I knew it I was coming up with literary gold. Now that I have sobered up and re-read it, it's not gold, but it is comical. So here is my thought sequence after a night of drinking alone. Enjoy…
  1. Everyone, and I mean everyone on reality television is so unbearably fake. Does anyone else see the irony there?
  2. The realization that I don't have any friends only dawns on me while drinking alone. Maybe it would be best not to drink alone #gulp gulp
  3.  Fuck, I think I left my car unlocked.
  4. I just don't see how marriage is that big of a deal. My life would't really change. For starters, my name is way cooler than yours, so I'll keep that. Not to mention it sounds like way to much work to change it. My job will continue to suck, my living situation will remain the same, and the person I live with would probably stay the same (unless some dramatic shit goes down and I up and marry some stranger). I truly have no opinion on the matter. Please stop trying to make me have one. However, I do want to wear a pretty dress.   
  5. I think cooking shows are the coolest. Does that make me super lame, or just kinda lame?
  6. While on the subject of food, often, not even half way through dinner, I am already thinking of dessert. Does that make me super fat, or just kinda fat?
  7. Being lazy is basically an American right, I'm pretty sure it's in the Constitution. In what other country is it acceptable to just need a 'me day'?
  8. I tend to over think everything. I think most women do. Driving home from work is when I do some of my best pointless over thinking. People would be amazed at how I can analyze everything and come up with solutions for scenarios that have not even happened. 
  9. Where do you put a bicycle in a super small apartment with no storage? Seriously, where!?!
  10. I really hate cleaning, mostly because…I don't know, I just fucking hate doing it! If/when I have extra income I will hire a housekeeper. My housekeeper will be a man, because I am such a feminist. HA!
   10.5 I am out of wine so I am going to drink beer out of a wine glass, because I'm fuckin classy.





Cheers!
Buzzed Biotch

*I told you all it wasn't gold, but I hope it made you giggle a little.

Saturday, August 9, 2014

The Many Faces of the Unfaithful

Recently, I read this article about signs your partner will cheat, most were pretty obvious, but what struck a cord with me was the statistic reported: 60% of men will cheat! How fucking daunting is that ladies? I am no statistics expert, however those are some shitty odds. In addition to reading that crappy article, I am also more aware now since my man is thousands of miles away, and I probably look like fair game when I am out. Regardless of why, I have been lucky enough to witness some cheaters in their natural habitat and here is how I decided to categorize them.

1. The Blamer: This is the man or woman who is married, or a long-term relationship and is no longer happy. Instead of ending it and moving on, they blame their spouse for the relationship not being what s/he wants and they cheat, as often as they can. The fucked up thing about this specific species is the fact that they have no shame in cheating, they wear their wedding ring to the bar and don't hide the fact that they are there to get some ass. Yes they have a spouse at home with their three kids, but it's OK, because if wifey wasn't so 'insert objectifying adjective here' then they wouldn't be driven to groping others at sleazy dive bars.

2. The Chaser: This is that cocky fucker who has a beautiful, smart, and kind person at home waiting for them, but they are always looking for something better. For whatever reason this person never appreciates what they have, but somehow they are in a constant state of commitment. Never single, but also never satisfied. If their spouse is skinny, they want someone with more curves. If their boyfriend is short, they want someone tall. If they have a successful companion, they want someone that will spend more time at home. Regardless of the situation, they are never content and constantly seeking better. 

3. The Webmaster: This is the person that hides in plain sight and who may never physically cheat on their significant other, but they text, email, Facebook, Snapchat, and use whatever other web based tool to be "unfaithful". The physical act isn't the objective for these individuals, it is the feeling of being desired. They would talk to just about anyone who will feed their ego. Again, these slimy little fuckers feel no remorse, because technically they didn't cheat. Generally the other shoe will drop, and that text will lead to a trashy hook-up in a seedy motel just off the freeway. 

4. The Side-Piece: This person isn't the one doing the cheating, but they only lust after those in committed relationships. They love playing the role of the destroyer, thriving on the drama of messing up others relationships. In some instances they even wait until a relationship has been made public and then seek to unravel it by spewing lies about how they all of the sudden are in love with that person and how they would treat them so much better, blah blah blah. They are the parasites of the relationship world and only seek to ruin others commitments. Just as soon as they do, they are no where in fucking sight.

5. The Lost Soul: This individual is genuinely in love with their partner but the passion has fizzled and they are lonely. They probably have never cheated before, but the alcohol they consumed blurred their judgement and it just happened. They are the ones who are guilt ridden after the indiscretion and eventually break down and confess. They are in agony about it and take full responsibility, but they still couldn't keep it in their fucking pants.


So, what is the point of this rant you ask? Well, there isn't really one except for me to express my general concern about relationships. It is hard enough to find someone that you actually like, then there is all this other bullshit you worry about after moving past the dating phase and into monogamy. So here is what I would like to see: If you are unhappy and considering cheating, just get the fuck out of the relationship and be single, or find someone who is cool with an open relationship. There, I just reduced that 60% to about 3%.

<3 
Forever-a-Sceptic 

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

How Social Media Ruined My Life

We are all hyper-connected. I connect with my friends everyday through texts, email, Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, Snapchat, Pintrest, blogs, phone calls, Skype, and even the rare face to face conversation. These are just a few of the many flavors. A great deal of my friends and family use additional means of connecting, from Tinder if you're DTF to Twitter if you think you are witty. You can literally stay connected to anyone, including those who should have been left in your past.

As discussed in my most recent entry I am an over thinker, to the fuckin max. I am also an avid social media user. These two do not mix well. I've read statistics about how social sites, like Facebook or Instagram, can have a negative impact on your self esteem. Reason being, you are constantly comparing the quality of your life to your 'friends'. You see how Trisha and Dick are soul mates and have the nicest house on the block. So you compare your shitty one bedroom apartment and lonely TV-dinner nights to their wedded bliss. The problem is that Trisha does't post that Dick has a gambling problem and their beautiful home is about to be foreclosed upon. Unknowingly, you find yourself down and out because you can't attain this farce. 

Not only are we comparing ourselves to fake happiness, we also have access to every fucking body. I never wanted to see what my ex's new girlfriend looked like, I never wanted to see what my current boyfriends ex's look like, and I most definitely did not want to keep in contact with that guy I accidentally slept with a few times. All of those people were supposed to remain quietly in my past, or in whatever past they originated. Now, thanks to the modern marvel of social media, I know that my boyfriends ex has big fake tits and blonde hair. Great, that's useful. NOOOO!!! You smug little shits might be thinking to yourself 'well don't look them up, it's as easy as that'. I call bullshit. I, personally, have no self control! If my ex's girlfriend likes a status of a mutual friends, how the fuck am I not supposed to look? Seriously, tell me how? 

There are simply too many ways to connect with others. We are overstimulated with everyone else's underwhelming lives. Social media has just become a modern way to cling to your past. Let's do an exercise. Close your eyes; try to think of all the people you knew in high school that you are friends with on Facebook. Now, list how many you actually have valuable conversations with on at least a semi-regular basis. Feel free to explain why you have 307 friends from high school. The people who should be in your life are actually in your life, not on some screen giving zero fucks about you.



Are you ready for the kicker? A main component of my job is social media marketing! Oh irony, you cruel, cruel see-you-next-tuesday.

<3 Social Media Slave 

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Trans-motherfucking-ition

Transition: a change from one state or condition to another. 

This is where I currently reside, in a constant state of change. The majority of my life is in flux, and very little is definite. Much has changed since my last post and even more has changed since I started this blog. 

So let us start with what is still the same...I'm still unmarried, therefore according to the government I am single. I am still twenty something, a few years closer to thirty, but twenty something none the less. Well, that about sums up the constants.

My employer has changed, I no longer slang mattresses! *electronic high five* Despite my career change, I somehow manage to be no closer to knowing what I want my career to look like. Some days I want to be a chef, some days I want to be a powerful marketing executive, and some days I want to join the peace corps to run far, far away. It's quite frustrating to be stuck in this brain that is perpetually changing what a 'dream job' looks like. 

My relationship status changed. I went from being a single ready to mingle 20-something to having a serious live-in boyfriend. He WAS a constant in my ever changing life, until recently. The bf is now packing up and moving across the country to California to start a new job and leave this ol' dusty trap behind. I'm talking about our apartment you idiots! But for reals, this has forced a lot of decision making on both our parts. Do I want to be that tag along sidekick lookin' bitch? Does he want a sidekick? Does this mean we are seriously serious if I go out there with him? What the hell kind of job am I supposed to look for when I don't know what I want to do? How the fuck do we make long distance work? There is a two hour time difference, he hates talking on the phone, and we are used to seeing each other every day. There are enough unknowns to make your damn head explode! Now lets make it crazier shall we? I'm an over-thinker, so this is where my irrational conclusions rear their ugly heads. Here is a sneak peek into my brain: "How do you know that he isn't just moving out there to get away from your crazy ass? Maybe he has a secret life with a wife and kids, and that's why he is leaving. I'm sure every women out there is successful, pretty and thin so I obviously won't fit in. I'm going to have to get all new clothes, rich successful Californians don't wear Target jeans. Oh fuck, I need to get out of the Midwest!" And it goes on and on and on, a never ending line of questions, concerns and made up bullshit.

My apartment changed...multiple times. I went from living by myself in a small, old one bedroom apartment downtown, to living in a newer nicer two bedroom apartment downtown with my boyfriend, to living in a really nice two bedroom apartment in the hood with my boyfriend. And now I have this really nice apartment in the Latin quarter with NO fucking furniture! Ladies of the world, when you move in with you significant other don't get rid of all your shit because theirs is nicer. You never know when he will move away and you will find yourself sleeping on an air mattress in the living room. Pretty fucking depressing. But also pretty fucking motivating. Job hunting in another state is no longer a distant fantasy, it is a necessity.

Oh, and I got a new car! 

All in all my life is walking that fine line between being really fucking kick ass OR a giant pile of disappointment. Some good, some hilarious, and some painful. Hopefully, at the very least, it will be entertaining to y'all.

<3
I'm back bitches! 


Friday, February 8, 2013

1.4.3

<3  1.4.<3
Three little words every girl wants to hear. I for one have an issue with this phrase, well at least saying it out loud. I get very anxious when I think I am about to say it and never feel like it comes out right. You know, the way it comes out in the movies all sensual and meaningful. How it makes your heart skip a beat and all that sappy bullshit. But when I say it, it is either the wrong time, blurted out too fast, too slow or all slurred (due to the wine) and stuttered (due to the nerves). 
For example: I have an issue with wanting to ‘talk’ or say meaningful things to my lover in bed. Not while in the act of coitus, but just while laying there about to fall asleep. For whatever reason at this time of night I feel the need to bare my soul and make a deep connection…only when the lights are off and I am safely tucked under my covers (everyone looks better in the dark). The problem with this is that most people like to sleep when they are in bed. Sleep or fuck anyway, and when I’m fucking I don’t want to say anything nor do I want you to say anything. Shut your mouth and do your job. Oh shit…sorry, tangent.
Anyway, yeah so back to me telling people I love them at inappropriate times. Picture this, I’m in bed with my man and out of nowhere I decide to say “I love you.” And I hear silence…more silence…and MORE fucking nothing! Now I get all nervous, start sweating, questioning my behavior during the day, week, and month. WHAT COULD IT BE??? Why doesn’t he love me back? OMG we are going to break up aren’t we…yup here it comes. All of this runs through my head in the matter of seconds and then I hear him snore. Motherfucker, he is sleeping. So I give him a slight nudge and ask “Are you sleeping?” and his response is some mumbled words that sound like “Mmmmugh-naw”. Then a cool calm rush of relief comes over me and I think to myself thank god he didn’t hear me, I’ll just keep that to myself.
All of that second guessing, stuttering, and inappropriate timing happened after we have already exchanged our initial awkward 1.4.3’s. No, that wasn’t my first time at the rodeo, I just suck the big one when it comes to saying I love you. I have a hard time saying it to my friends, mother, brother, grandmother and everyone under the sun no matter how much I truly do love them.
I have friends who say it to me every time we talk and they have no problem ending the conversation with ‘love you’. I appreciate it, I REALLY do! But for some reason when it comes out of my mouth it sounds hollow and emotionless. When I say it, it sounds as though I am just saying it because they said it first. That probably is because I am. Not because I don’t love them, I just don’t think to tell them until they have already told me.  
I know and understand why I’m not so good at putting those words together seamlessly; it is because my family is just as shitty at it as I am. I am NOT telling you this so you will be all, awww poor Single 20-Something no one loved you growing up. Not in the least, lots of people loved me sucka, they just blew at saying it out loud, hence my verbal inadequacy. But guess what?
I LOVE YOU!!!!!
XOXO
I’ve been told actions speak louder than words anyhow

Thursday, December 27, 2012

How Many Personalities Do You Have?

Have you ever found yourself thinking 'who the fuck was that?' Many times I look back at my behavior in certain circumstances and can’t figure out what came over me and why I turned into some freaky alternate person. So, much like my new favorite show, United States of Tara, I have decided to give all of my alters a name and persona. I would like to introduce you to…
Miss Jackson: She is a ferocious business woman that demands to be heard and knows her shit. Miss Jackson is not to be fucked with. This woman expects the best from people hates excuses and doesn’t make them herself. She is the kind of woman that would have burned her bra and marched all over Washington. Miss Jackson is a forward thinking liberal that refuses to accept the status quo. Basically she is a bad ass bitch who has no desire to become a stay at home mother and absolutely even less of a desire for a husband. Sex with Miss Jackson is a trip, be prepared to be dominated. If she were an animal, she sure as fuck would be a lioness, rawr!
Bella: No, not that dumb vampire skank, Bella is a fun, free loving, tree hugging, hula-hooping hippie. She is kind to all things, especially people. She is very patient, loves to listen to every ones story, and makes no judgment. Bella expresses herself creatively by writing, making jewelry, interpretive dance and of course body paint and glitter. This girl has been known to get down with the get down and is always ready for a party, especially if live music and mind altering substances are involved. New experiences are her forte. Bella’s go with the flow attitude allows her to love everyone for who they are and is always optimistic, sometimes to the point of annoyance. This woman is on the righteous side of karma and has an aura of soft purple and flecks of gold.
Trina: Let me tell you bout this bitch; she is an odd combination of a confrontational, argumentative, bossy snatch mashed up with a joke cracking, party going, fun loving night owl. She is one of those girls you see at the club drinkin, smokin, cursin, and shakin her ass on the dance floor. Trina is a lot of fun IF she is on your side, but what a cunt rag if you have wronged her. This woman has been known to hold a grudge and never seems to forget anything. She keeps her friends close and loves making them laugh, whether it is by being the only one dancing or with smart ass comments. Trina is EXTREMLEY flirtatious with men, so much so, it gets her into trouble. If shit is about to go down OR you need a night out, call Trina, she’s got you.
Fannie: Oh Fannie! I love having her around. Miss Fannie loves to cook and take care of people. She is the concerned motherly type. She will make you a nice hot home cooked meal, fix your plate, bring it to you and then even clean up the kitchen after, all while listening to and easing your woes. Fannie loves entertaining and throwing fancy soirees. This kind woman has a taste for the finer things from lobster to decadent desserts and bubble baths of course. Fannie is the definition of a lady.
Well, that’s the gang! If you mash them all together there you have it…me, bits of each one showing up at any given moment. I wouldn’t say I’m crazy and actually suffer from D.I.D, but I do think we all have multiple personalities that, when combined, make us uniquely ourselves. If I didn’t have all these women within me I would be a boring, one dimensional wet blanket. Who are your alters? It is quite fun to embrace them J
XOXO
Miss Jackson
Bella
Trina
Fannie

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Living a Lie!


I've Been Living a Lie!

It is true. Not only do I suck the big one when it comes to keeping up to date with this blog, I also have been lying to you all. I WAS single when I first started this…was being the key word. I am no longer a single twenty something (sigh). I am now a 20 something with a BOYFRIEND. FUCK! I hate that word. I use it very sparingly, but today is the day I confess my sins to you, well not all my sins. If I did that I might as well just say adios blog, considering the only real interesting parts of my life are my sins.

So back to this boyfriend of mine…yes, yes I tried to hide it from not just you, but also my friends, family, coworkers, and acquaintances that I see in real life. Really, I have no excuse for my actions. It is not as though I am dating some troll that I am embarrassed to be seen with. I don’t have weird commitment issues. I don’t have an inordinate amount of self esteem issues, no daddy complexes and I’m not overly private with my life events. Simply, I just don’t like the word boyfriend. I think it is a childish and idiotic word. Let us break it down, shall we? This two syllable word does not, in the least, describe the relationship I have with the man I am suppose to refer to as my boyfriend.

Syllable one = boy. The MAN I am sleeping with, sharing life experiences and growing with is not a boy, fucking thank whatever god you believe in for that. I sincerely have an issue with grown women having sexual encounters with boys. Syllable two = friend. I have a lot of people I consider friends but I have never put any of their genitals in my mouth; nor do I cuddle with them, strip for them, or write cute little sappy notes for them. After examining the word it just doesn’t work. There has to be a better term to use, but really there isn’t. I guess maybe I could call him my malelovingcompanion, but that just makes it sound as though he likes dudes and is nice to me, or is a gay dog...either way not fitting.

From now on I should just refer to him as the only man I am sleeping with. This is how that would go: “Hi Sally! It sure has been a while, you look great! I would like to introduce you to the man I am sexually and emotionally monogamous with.” That’s not awkward, right? I really do think that this is the reason I failed to share the news with you and everyone else in my life. My friends all knew I had a boyfriend before I admitted it, hell maybe even before I knew it. They all found it amusing that I refused to fess up. Again, the reason for this is because at my age there is no word that properly describes the relationship I am in. I have surpassed my mid twenties, and the relationship I have now is not the same as the ones I had in High School, but we use the same word. I don’t get it. As we grow and enter into more mature unions our vocabulary should reflect those changes. But as explored above, there is no word that describes it. That is until you reach the fiancĂ© stage (AHHHH), and we ALL should know by now that I am NOT ready for that! For fuck sake I just came to terms with the fact that I have a bf.

Love,
Still Single According to my W2's