For the 5 of you who actually read my blogs, I apologize for the lapse in writing. Rest assured, the sweats and night tremors will stop now that you are reading this. (Or just begin, depending on what you take away from my blogs) So I want to re-cap an evening I experienced recently where I went out to an unnamed establishment (totally not bay ridge...cough cough) where I realized how much of an old lady I really am.
I walked in like any other evening anticipating my Coors Light fix. The place was packed and being that my focus was on the delicious beer I couldn't wait to taste, I didn't notice the clientele surrounding me. I get my beer, take a refreshing gulp, release an "ahhhhh yeah", wipe my chin (like any lady would) and look around. That's when I saw it. Fetus upon fetus all over the place. Everyone I looked at seemed younger than the one before. I think one guy even had remnants of his umbilical cord still attached. I was curious to see if he had an outie or an innie but I digress.
The girls were disastrous. Tiny little whores all over the place. Some girls were so overly tanned it made my Irish friend look exotic. It was like Umpa lumpas on ecstasy. I had never seen so many children in one place outside of a day school. The music was blasting and kids were fist pumping and jumping around with so much intensity that their baby teeth were flying all over the place. It was becoming dangerous. I wondered if they had just started putting Similac on tap because this many mistakes in one night was alarming.
I couldn't hear myself think let alone talk to my friend about an escape route. I don't know if it was shock or curiosity that kept me there but I couldn't take my eyes off the whole scene. I positioned myself safely in the corner for fear of the temper tantrums that would erupt simultaneously once they realized the kitchen stopped serving animal crackers after 2. I wondered when I had entered crazy town but I was anxious to hop on the next train out of there.
Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse that's when it happened. The DJ starting playing Jump Around by House of Pain and after removing her pacifier one fetus said to another, "Omg this is the song I was telling you about that just came out, its amazing." My mouth dropped open from shock. I felt a wave of age hitting me. My wrinkles never felt so alive as they did at that moment. I could feel the gray hair setting in. I had to get out of there and fast. Before the phrase "Damn kids these days" could escape from my lips I grabbed my Irish companion and bolted. As I ran out I could hear the baby teeth crushing under my feet. The smell of baby powder and Balmex was so intoxicating I almost didn't make it to the door.
Once outside I took in a deep breath and let out a huge sigh of relief. Somehow the babies could sense my fear and a few came outside and busted out their candy cigarettes. When I realized they posed no threat I calmed down. I dusted off the baby powder residue, wiped away the drops of Similac on my arm and made my way to a bar where adults hung out. My grey hair turned back to black, my wrinkles receded and my sanity came back. I am not an old biddy by any means but when you think an iconic song from the 90s is a new release my osteoporosis suddenly kicks in. I'm grateful I got out when I did, if not I would have shriveled up into dust.
Moral of my story.....fetuses scare me. They are powerful beings when they converge into groups. Surrounding yourself with them will case extreme aging and depletion of brain cells. To my fellow 25 and over peeps, watch your back. They come out when you least expect it and they will turn what should have been a booze fix into a run for your youth.
Needless to say I have since enrolled in therapy. The nightmares have subsided but I can only pray that my experience with these newborns is a one time deal. Good luck and be safe, its dangerous out there.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
National Give Out a Mirror Day
True story. I'm out with my best friend and we see what can only be described as a new unidentified mammal species of some sort. This creature/mutant was pushing a stroller wearing chocolate brown leggings, to the point that her ass was eating them, a tight leopard print top ( I believe- Jen correct me here if I'm wrong) and some other atrocity on top of it. I have to ask, do people just refuse to own or even look in a mirror before leaving their house? I mean really people, when your ass is literally taking a bite out of your pants there is a problem there. Especially when you are a size 14 and your clothes were bought in baby Gap.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for girls of all sizes wearing cute things but please for the sake of my eyes and my stomach wear the correct size!! Just because you have skinner legs than the 300 pounds of gut resting on top of it does not mean you can wear pants that are a size 2 and a top that is so tight the stitching's are screaming to keep it together. Sadly this is an all too common sight.
If your buttons are the only thing between you wearing a shirt or starting a strip show please rethink it. Its called double sided tape fyi. I understand that we all want to wear a small, or not have to be judged when we are in the fitting room and have to yell out, "Hey can you please get me the pants in the hefty section" Trust me, I get it. I just don't understand why some girls think yes I will wear leggings and a top so small it could belong to my barbie. I want my ass crack to look like its a piranha just chomping at my pants. Yes, the bigger the muffin top the better and lets not forget about the massive camel toe. Sexxayyy. Not.
Muffin tops are NOT an accessory. It's not sexy or appealing. Being a muffin top owner myself I fully understand how hard it can be to keep that baby under wraps but I manage. Go the next size up, and if it bothers you that much cut out the label. Would I love to wear skinny jeans and a cut off top, hell yeaz, do you see me doing it, hell nahhzz. Reason being, I own a mirror. I am fully aware of all the meat I gotta control before I walk out the house. Let me tell you, it aint easy. Sometimes I gotta bust out aerobic moves just to get my pants zipped, nah mean kid?? Word.
Dress for the body you have not the one you want. Plain and simple. If you don't care about how you look can you at least have some concern for the people who have to look at you? I mean without warning it can really turn a good lunch into a splatter on the street. Clearly that is just a waste of what once was a good meal. Do I then have the right to charge you for not only my lunch but for the eye surgery I will need to get that burnt image out? I think not. Straight inconsiderate.
If your worried that guys will judge you because your wearing "big girl" clothes think again. When a guy is getting down to the bizz-nass he could care less what size your pants are. Just as long as they end up on the floor. If it's already gotten to the point where you are getting some, I'm sure he has a good idea of what he is working with. Big or small. But when he has to bust out the jaws of life to just get your painted on pants out of your ass, its not worth the poke anymore. Instant penile death. On a side note also, just because your boobs grow with you doesn't not mean you have big boobs. You have fat boobs. Totally different. So wearing a corset because you listened to the salesgirl who lied and said "Yes the small will shrink your waist and hide your stomach and make your boobs look great" just makes you look like a fatty stuffed into a way too tiny corset with her fat ass titties flopping all around. Here's a thought, buy it in your size. Wow what a revelation! You will look so much better and probably be able to breathe.
I wear what fits because I try to keep the rolls and jiggle at a minimum and I would greatly appreciate for all of you who don't, please start.
In the words of Shanaynay.."You look toe up from da flo up make me wanna cha-row up""
Thank You.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for girls of all sizes wearing cute things but please for the sake of my eyes and my stomach wear the correct size!! Just because you have skinner legs than the 300 pounds of gut resting on top of it does not mean you can wear pants that are a size 2 and a top that is so tight the stitching's are screaming to keep it together. Sadly this is an all too common sight.
If your buttons are the only thing between you wearing a shirt or starting a strip show please rethink it. Its called double sided tape fyi. I understand that we all want to wear a small, or not have to be judged when we are in the fitting room and have to yell out, "Hey can you please get me the pants in the hefty section" Trust me, I get it. I just don't understand why some girls think yes I will wear leggings and a top so small it could belong to my barbie. I want my ass crack to look like its a piranha just chomping at my pants. Yes, the bigger the muffin top the better and lets not forget about the massive camel toe. Sexxayyy. Not.
Muffin tops are NOT an accessory. It's not sexy or appealing. Being a muffin top owner myself I fully understand how hard it can be to keep that baby under wraps but I manage. Go the next size up, and if it bothers you that much cut out the label. Would I love to wear skinny jeans and a cut off top, hell yeaz, do you see me doing it, hell nahhzz. Reason being, I own a mirror. I am fully aware of all the meat I gotta control before I walk out the house. Let me tell you, it aint easy. Sometimes I gotta bust out aerobic moves just to get my pants zipped, nah mean kid?? Word.
Dress for the body you have not the one you want. Plain and simple. If you don't care about how you look can you at least have some concern for the people who have to look at you? I mean without warning it can really turn a good lunch into a splatter on the street. Clearly that is just a waste of what once was a good meal. Do I then have the right to charge you for not only my lunch but for the eye surgery I will need to get that burnt image out? I think not. Straight inconsiderate.
If your worried that guys will judge you because your wearing "big girl" clothes think again. When a guy is getting down to the bizz-nass he could care less what size your pants are. Just as long as they end up on the floor. If it's already gotten to the point where you are getting some, I'm sure he has a good idea of what he is working with. Big or small. But when he has to bust out the jaws of life to just get your painted on pants out of your ass, its not worth the poke anymore. Instant penile death. On a side note also, just because your boobs grow with you doesn't not mean you have big boobs. You have fat boobs. Totally different. So wearing a corset because you listened to the salesgirl who lied and said "Yes the small will shrink your waist and hide your stomach and make your boobs look great" just makes you look like a fatty stuffed into a way too tiny corset with her fat ass titties flopping all around. Here's a thought, buy it in your size. Wow what a revelation! You will look so much better and probably be able to breathe.
I wear what fits because I try to keep the rolls and jiggle at a minimum and I would greatly appreciate for all of you who don't, please start.
In the words of Shanaynay.."You look toe up from da flo up make me wanna cha-row up""
Thank You.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Russian Roulette
:: Take a breathe, take it deep ::
:: "Calm yourself" He says to me ::
:: If you play, you play for keeps ::
:: Take the gun and count to three ::
:: I'm sweating now, moving slow ::
:: No time to think, my turn to go::
:: As my life flashes before my eyes ::
:: I'm wondering will I ever see another sunrise? ::
:: So many won't get the chance to say goodbye ::
:: But it's too late to think of the value of my life ::
- Rihanna Russian Roulette
I love this song because it expresses so much without saying much. It reminds of when your in that place where everything is crashing down around you and there is no silver lining. When you can't imagine how to move on or how you got there. Your totally fucked and there is not a damn thing you can do about it. You feel like your life is over. Somehow you have to slam through whatever weighs down on you and find some release. At that point though you just don't care anymore. That's a place I'm all too familiar with.
I've been told that I'm cold, secretive and untrustworthy. Maybe I am, but shutting down is not a means of weakness its a means of self preservation. If my heart is cold then I can't be burnt by warmth. Not sharing aspects of your life isn't being secretive, it's being protective. As far as untrustworthy, that depends on who you ask I guess.
I've been told, "I feel like I don't even know who you are". That's probably because you never really knew who I was from the beginning. Always in the shadows, seen but not recognized. When someone is down, when they are struggling and going through hard times, you don't beat them. You either make it better or do nothing. Constant berating just makes it impossible to see that there is something better ahead. The reason I keep things to myself is for two main reasons, 1-I don't want the pity and 2-I don't want to be judged or scolded. If this makes me cold and unrecognizable then so be it. I'll wear that badge proudly.
I wont say I have it all figured out and I will admit I've made mistakes but at the end of the day I'm a human being. No better and no worse than any of you. Things could always be worse, I could lose at Russian Roulette.
:: "Calm yourself" He says to me ::
:: If you play, you play for keeps ::
:: Take the gun and count to three ::
:: I'm sweating now, moving slow ::
:: No time to think, my turn to go::
:: As my life flashes before my eyes ::
:: I'm wondering will I ever see another sunrise? ::
:: So many won't get the chance to say goodbye ::
:: But it's too late to think of the value of my life ::
- Rihanna Russian Roulette
I love this song because it expresses so much without saying much. It reminds of when your in that place where everything is crashing down around you and there is no silver lining. When you can't imagine how to move on or how you got there. Your totally fucked and there is not a damn thing you can do about it. You feel like your life is over. Somehow you have to slam through whatever weighs down on you and find some release. At that point though you just don't care anymore. That's a place I'm all too familiar with.
I've been told that I'm cold, secretive and untrustworthy. Maybe I am, but shutting down is not a means of weakness its a means of self preservation. If my heart is cold then I can't be burnt by warmth. Not sharing aspects of your life isn't being secretive, it's being protective. As far as untrustworthy, that depends on who you ask I guess.
I've been told, "I feel like I don't even know who you are". That's probably because you never really knew who I was from the beginning. Always in the shadows, seen but not recognized. When someone is down, when they are struggling and going through hard times, you don't beat them. You either make it better or do nothing. Constant berating just makes it impossible to see that there is something better ahead. The reason I keep things to myself is for two main reasons, 1-I don't want the pity and 2-I don't want to be judged or scolded. If this makes me cold and unrecognizable then so be it. I'll wear that badge proudly.
I wont say I have it all figured out and I will admit I've made mistakes but at the end of the day I'm a human being. No better and no worse than any of you. Things could always be worse, I could lose at Russian Roulette.
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