Tag Archives: honest

It’s my party and you better not cry.

6 Mar

Quit Crying

When it comes to feelings, I like to keep mine private. When I get upset I tend to bottle it up and put it on the shelf. Which is quite fitting considering I usually have to drink a bottle before I let my guard down. People say that you feel better after you get things off your chest. But I just end up feeling vulnerable. And there is nothing I hate more than that overwhelming feeling of vulnerability. It makes me feel weak.

But that’s just me. Other people are happy to advertise their heartache and failures to anybody that will listen.  I read statuses on facebook all the time that make me go “WTF? Somebody needs a diary”. Does anybody know why it is called a diary? I’ll tell you why; It is because it was invented to prevent diarrhea of the mouth. It’s purpose is to help those with uncontrollable, pathetic feelings pouring out their pie-holes, stinking of desperation and the need for attention.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind being a shoulder to cry on. But not when you cry about everything. I hope you can use your frequent crier miles towards a one way ticket out of my face.

The truth is, when you cry about everything, your tears mean nothing. That may sound like a mean thing to say, which is why I said it. Well, that and I speak the truth.

You’ve just become the girl who cried wolf; but without the wolf.  So, you’re just the girl who cried. Over and over again. Until one day everyone stopped caring.

Let me guess, you’re going to cry, aren’t you?

You are ugly when you cry.

Your crying face makes me laugh.

Idiot Traffic Lights do exist.

23 Feb

Idiot Traffic Light

We should all go green.

I know traffic lights are a pet peeve to almost anybody who has had the pleasure of getting on a Highway.  Red lights often make me a reminisce to my first days behind the wheel.  When approaching a red light I would use this as an opportunity to see if my telekinetic powers had kicked in yet; I tried to make the light turn green using my brilliant and unwavering concentration.   Thanks for wasting my time, Matilda.

Today I was running a little late for a lunch date, which I can’t say is unusual for me.   When I finally arrived I apologized and said “I would have been here on time if the idiot traffic lights would get their act together.”  With a smirk he replied he wasn’t aware that traffic lights possessed the ability to be idiots.

Well, I will have you know that traffic lights can most certainly be idiots.  It is a simple concept, actually.

An Idiot Traffic Light is any traffic light that isn’t green when I get there.

I am here for an oil change, not a date.

22 Feb

I am not going to answer

You can call, but I won't answer.

It seems like I can’t go anywhere these days without getting hit on.  Yes, most of the time it is flattering but nonetheless inappropriate.  And also awkward.  I feel the need to tiptoe around town avoiding the guys working in certain places that have blatantly flirted with me.  The most recent occurrence of this really made me laugh at his methods.

I take my car into the dealership I bought it from for service.  They instruct me to go sit in the waiting room until it’s time to surgically remove my arm and leg to pay for the oil change.  I walk in and of course there’s the usual mixture of snacks in a basket, like crackers, cookies, donuts, — anything I shouldn’t even be eyeing if I want to be ready for bikini season.  Eh, fuck it, I grab some peanut butter crackers because they’re free and I might be a nice bitch but I am also a broke bitch.  College is expensive, ya heard? I think I will make that my next post. lol.

In walks this hefty man, I’m guessing around 30 years old.  He kind of reminded me of Randy Jackson.  He asks me what I am waiting for.   Well, I have a dry mouthful of peanut butter crackers and normally I wouldn’t dare speak with my mouth full but every time I walk into this wallet-emptying-hell-hole I seem to say ‘fuck it” a lot more than I usually do.  So, there is no way I can be appealing trying to answer his boring,  just-leave-me-to-my-crackers-and-iphone-please, stupid questions.  Finally, he hands me his card and says he is being paged and has to take care of something important.  Well, aren’t you just Mr. Big Deal?  Thank God, now I can eat my crackers in peace and text my friends how annoying the guy that works here is.

You guessed it, Mr. Big Deal walks back in and sits down on the couch next to me.  You think this may have tipped him off but apparently not — I ask him “Aren’t you going to get in trouble for sitting here with me?  Don’t you have something you should be doing?”  He smirks and replies “Didn’t you read my card?”   Um, obviously not.  So I dig through my suitcase/purse to find the card I carelessly threw in there. A few minutes pass. lol. I pull out his card and read that he is the Sales Manager. Wow, he is a big deal.   And!!! (I know we don’t like excessive use of exclamation points but I am just that excited!!!!) His card reveals his name is “Big John”. HAHAHAHAHAHA. No.  You shouldn’t have a ‘big’ in your name unless you are a Pro Wrestler, Porn Star, or dating Carrie on Sex and the City.   And do I even need to elaborate that it’s on his business card?  The only big part about him is his belly… and his head. He proceeds to ask me how old I am and I tell him to take his best guess. He says 25. And I pretend to be slightly offended and tell him I am younger than that (by a year. lol).

At this Point I am just talking to him solely for entertainment purposes.  He tries to recover from the age insult by saying that I carry myself like a woman on a mission.  Make that a bitch on a mission and I might forgive you.  Then he offers to take me on a ‘test drive’ to help pass the time.  I am playing into his antics now and I tell him bring me the biggest, baddest truck on the lot.   During the short drive, he begins to interrogate me on what I am studying in school, what kind of truck my boyfriend drives, where I like to go for dinner, etc.  As much as I try to steer the subject back to the truck, he puts the pedal to the metal back to the subject of me. Ugh. But, I did end up giving him my number, but only because I am a nice bitch.  I like to tell it how it is but without intentionally hurting others.  But he called me and I never answered.  I don’t think that is the first time that has happened to him.

I just don’t know where these guys get off thinking it’s okay to approach customers in this fashion.  Car salesman have a bad rep as it is.  And now I feel uncomfortable going back there.  I mean, at least if I do see him I will still get some free crackers out of it.

The truth is, I’m flattered that you like me, but insulted that you think you have a chance with me.