Have yet to receive my first unemployment check. Have two interviews today and one tomorrow, and just in time for interviewing, an underground cyst the size of fucking Mt. Everest pops up on my cheek, distorting my entire facial structure. I wouldn't expect anything different....
And, to make appearance matters worse, I'm pre-menstual, so that means that despite the fact I've been walking like 5 miles a day and eating healthy, I am 10 lbs. heavier than normal and look extra stumpy.
I love it.
I love my life.
Monday, May 9, 2016
Thursday, May 5, 2016
Bijou With The Good Hair
I just ate half a pint of Ben and Jerry's cookie dough ice cream and a decent chunk of Lindt bar, after eating a massive shrimp po' boy, half a pot of homemade split pea soup, half a bag of cheetos, and a generous helping of 16 handles fro yo earlier in the day. I am on the rampage. I have nothing left to live for. I have nothing left to look hot for. My life is over.
I can feel the insides of my thighs swelling and coming close to rub against each other in the summer heat that is encroaching upon us now that May is here. I have been applying to jobs non-stop for the past two weeks that I have been unemployed. Nannying jobs (who the f*ck would hire me to take care of their precious, BPA toddlers if they've seen the stuff I post here, am I right?! No wonder they didn't call me back).
I've applied for retail jobs, because, you know, why not continue to be someone else's bitch for the remainder of my working life? I have decided there is absolutely no way for me to be myself or creatively fulfilled on the job, unless I somehow score a job writing for TheOnion.com or Vice.com. Or, perhaps I can write books that no one will publish, because, sadly for me, my parents aren't rich and don't have connections.
It's fine though. I've been going home the past three weekends in a row, because on top of losing my job, my Grandma also has cancer. If I stay here alone (since my BF works all weekend), I will either spend money I shouldn't spend on shit I shouldn't spend it on (ex. Partying), or I will go off the fucking deep end, because, I mean really - how many jobs can I possibly find and apply for on a Saturday night?
My legs are like two hamhocks since I am officially what I ate.
My hair is really gross.
I can't find a foundation pale enough to match my skin, and the last two bare minerals ones I purchased (which for years seemed to match my natural skin perfectly), now make me look snookie orange.
I am interviewing at a shop on Monday that I cannot even afford the products of. It's like a facial / face cream place. I am sure because of my natural, and radiating beauty, they will hire me. We all know I look so hot without make up or my hair done. I'm like a fucking wildebeast. A common stock pig with ONE redeeming feature.
I am so blessed. I should probably start a can/bottle collection, or maybe I should start collecting Cardboard scraps to build a "recycled" "tiny" home for the street.
I'm fat. I'm fucking fat.
I can feel the insides of my thighs swelling and coming close to rub against each other in the summer heat that is encroaching upon us now that May is here. I have been applying to jobs non-stop for the past two weeks that I have been unemployed. Nannying jobs (who the f*ck would hire me to take care of their precious, BPA toddlers if they've seen the stuff I post here, am I right?! No wonder they didn't call me back).
I've applied for retail jobs, because, you know, why not continue to be someone else's bitch for the remainder of my working life? I have decided there is absolutely no way for me to be myself or creatively fulfilled on the job, unless I somehow score a job writing for TheOnion.com or Vice.com. Or, perhaps I can write books that no one will publish, because, sadly for me, my parents aren't rich and don't have connections.
It's fine though. I've been going home the past three weekends in a row, because on top of losing my job, my Grandma also has cancer. If I stay here alone (since my BF works all weekend), I will either spend money I shouldn't spend on shit I shouldn't spend it on (ex. Partying), or I will go off the fucking deep end, because, I mean really - how many jobs can I possibly find and apply for on a Saturday night?
My legs are like two hamhocks since I am officially what I ate.
My hair is really gross.
I can't find a foundation pale enough to match my skin, and the last two bare minerals ones I purchased (which for years seemed to match my natural skin perfectly), now make me look snookie orange.
I am interviewing at a shop on Monday that I cannot even afford the products of. It's like a facial / face cream place. I am sure because of my natural, and radiating beauty, they will hire me. We all know I look so hot without make up or my hair done. I'm like a fucking wildebeast. A common stock pig with ONE redeeming feature.
I am so blessed. I should probably start a can/bottle collection, or maybe I should start collecting Cardboard scraps to build a "recycled" "tiny" home for the street.
I'm fat. I'm fucking fat.
Wednesday, May 4, 2016
Sometimes Good Things Come out of Shitty Situations..
... like losing weight without even trying to because you have no job and are under so much stress :D
I am going to be looking so hot for Mysterland, granted I can afford to go ;) Brings me back to the days of living on bags of frozen peas while I was working at Highline and making like $170 a week. Good times....
Welcome to My Perfect, Wonderful Life
I thought I had found my dream job when I finally escaped the throes of retail hell back in November. Sadly, I ended up much worse for the wear, as I was working with a fucking psychopathic, late-to-the-game transgender woman, who was addicted to drugs. Making the situation even worse, was my asshole licking, douche bag coworker that literally made me want to strangle him every time he opened his mouth. I've never seen such an ass-kisser in my entire life.... and I worked for Abercrombie and Fitch.
If you have ever worked with an all-female team of managers, and they're all PMS-ing at the same time and you think THAT is bad, try working for a a male to female transgender woman, who is on hormones and taking a combination of recreational drugs for three days straight every weekend.
My boss gave me ecstasy pills as part of my severance package. I'm not really sure who the fuck does that, but by me telling you this, maybe you can begin to understand the gravity of my situation.
I went into this job with an open mind. Like, how cool and progressive was it that I was working for a startup that aimed to revolutionize the industry, and my boss was a transgender woman donning heels and crop tops, who openly talked about drugs? Sounds great right?
It was great, until I started realizing that she bro-ed around with my male co-workers, gave all of the exciting assignments to my male coworker (because she couldn't trust me to take care of them), and just generally disregarded my opinions, despite the fact that I was the only woman on our team (apart from her), and therefore, my opinion should have mattered even more so.
I thought it was ridiculous I was feeling this way - discriminated against by a male to female transgender woman, who clearly should have known about the struggles of discrimination and sexism. But, I wasn't wrong or alone in my beliefs, as our one, female intern ended up quitting after only a month and a half. She confided in me that she felt like my male co-worker was the only one whose opinion was being valued or adhered to in terms of decision making etc. She also said she felt like our boss didn't like her or value her opinions as a woman, or give her the same acknowledgement she was giving to our two male interns at the time.
This really resonated with me, and after she quit, I began to feel the same way, even more so, now that I was once again, the only woman on the team.
I tried to put up with it, and suck it up day after day, reasoning in my own mind "how can I possibly feel this way?" or, maybe it's all in my head. I started to feel left out, and ostracized simply for being a woman.
My boss also failed to keep me in the loop or have one-on-one feedback sessions with me. Instead, she regularly conferred with my male counterpart, and would spend chunks of the day shut in her office with him. He started ass-kissing even more, and made it a point to go to parties with her, and buy Further Future festival tickets too so he could schmooze with her there. Dude had no life outside of work, and is one of the worst individuals I have ever met. He would regularly talk about artists being "hot," and when we initially had interns applying, he said that he wished "one of them would be a hot chick." Um, the last thing I knew, this was a place of work, not a fucking dating service.... I guess I should forgive him though, because he probably hadn't been laid in like a year, since he was such a dick, and I don't know any girl who would fuck with that.
Our boss was a total deviant, making us spend an entire chunk of one of our work days to all sit on our cell phones so we could obtain the coveted Burning Man tickets she so desperately wanted. Cause, you know, a festival like Burning Man (http://burningman.org) where everyone is fucked up on drugs and running around the dessert naked for 10 days, is essential networking for the further growth of a technology based startup firm!
We were late getting paid pretty much all but two pay periods that I worked there. I can tell you, being paid late truly made me miss working for a corporate company and a company with HR. With all of the crap I put up with at my retail job, at least we were always paid on time, and if I was being treated unfairly, I could report it to HR, and I know I wouldn't lose my job for doing so. It was highly inconvenient to be paid late, and now in retrospect, I can assume (and accurately so), that we were late getting paid because our immature, party-monster of a boss, was spending company money on festival tickets, partying every weekend, and drugs (I watched her take 4 different drugs in one day once).
The day that I got "let go," We were a full week late being paid. My drug addled boss never came into the office before noon. Most days she came in around 1:30pm. We were supposed to be paid Friday, the 15th. I figured that as usual, we were just a couple of days late getting paid. However, by the time the following Wednesday rolled around, and I had bills due, I was getting pissed. I messaged my boss Wednesday morning, asking when I could expect to be paid.... no answer. She came into the office and was immediately holed up in her office in "investor meetings" all afternoon. Oh, and by the way, she used to wear mini skirts and crop tops to these investor meetings - no fucking wonder no one was throwing money at her company. But, I digress....
The next day, Thursday, we still hadn't been paid. I was really furious at this point, since she outright ignored my question, and I had bills due, and our paycheck was a full week late. Once again, she wasn't at work when I came in at 10am, so I messaged her with the same question "When can we expect our paychecks to go through? Thanks!" No answer. Although, she did spew a bunch of orders on various other message channels, so I knew full well she was online and had seen my question. She finally answered with "I'll talk to you when I come in." Alrighty....
She finally came in at noon, and didn't have time to chat with me until she had chatted with two of my co-workers, behind her office door. Finally, her door opened and I went into her office. I once again started the conversation with "Hey, I was just really wondering when we can expect to get paid... " when she told me to sit down.
She went onto explain that she hadn't even done payroll yet and didn't know when she would be able to because there was literally no one whatsoever in the company bank account. Then, she followed that up by saying she was going to have to "let me go" because she couldn't afford to "keep [me] on the team."
At this point I was irate. Her telling me she had to 'let me go' actually was a less pressing matter than when I was going to be compensated for the last three weeks worth of work at this wretched, sinking startup run by an egomaniac party monster.
I started crying and laughing at the same time as the shock set in. How the fuck did I end up working at this joke of an institution? How the fuck was I getting "let go"? and how the fuck had I not been paid yet? I think I actually kept saying "what the fuck?!" as she was speaking and "I can't believe this."
I basically told her I wasn't leaving until I had been compensated for the last few weeks, and she decided she would take cash out of her own account to give me. She told me that she wasn't going to be able to afford to pay the others until an investor put cash into the company account, and I held my tongue since I wanted to tell her that dressing in a dick-grazing, leather mini skirt and crop top probably didn't do much to help the investor situation.
I also confronted her for not telling us in advance that she couldn't afford to pay us on time. Having a warning really would have helped since I carelessly blew most of my tax return since I thought I could afford to do so since I was making more money.
I took a walk outside for 30 minutes, so she had time to run to the ATM. During this time, I continued to cry. My leather purse strap slipped over my body and severely cut two of my fingers on the way down. Now I was not only walking around sobbing in broad daylight, but also profusely bleeding from my fingers and sucking on one of them to quell the blood. I was a hot mess.
I went back to the office and took my pay in the form of cold, hard cash. My boss offered up some ecstasy pills, which I willingly excepted, saying "this is the least you can do for me." I can't believe that part of my severance package was drugs. What a damn joke. For real.... un-fucking-believable.
I walked out of there feeling like a combination of shit, failure, humiliation, regret (for ever working there), anger (towards my mess of a boss, and dick-wad coworker), and also relief. Thank God I wouldn't have to deal with that shit anymore.
I don't even care if this company turns into the next Google or Instagram (although chances it will never make it that far since it's being run and operated by an egomaniac,drug-addicted mess of a human). At least I'll never have to work another day, stagnant at an office desk biting my tongue and squeezing my fists so I don't verbally or physically lash out on my asshole-eating coworker who's very facial expressions made me want to choke him out.
I walked home from work that day, in the blazing hot sun, with a puffy face (from crying), bloody fingers, and ecstasy in my purse. I somehow managed to get hit on by every grandpa, construction worker, high school student, etc. I passed. I'm not sure who hits on a woman that looks like I looked at that moment in time - someone sick in the head.
When I finally made it home, I was delirious, like crying and laughing. My WiFi decided to shit the bed as soon as I came home, and four days later, it's still not working.
I am not sure where my life is going or what's going to happen in terms of my job, and the fact that I am supposed to go to Italy at the end of this summer.
I guess it's all for the best though. I'm scared right now, not having a source of income, but also relieved that I got out of that company, even though it was not the best way to go, since I had no time to plan.
At least I have this awesome story to tell people, and know what NOT to look for in my next job.
Oh, also, the real kicker of this situation is, even though she had no money to do payroll and had to cut me to cut down on costs, when I signed onto Craigslist to start job searching again, I found this:
https://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/med/5545431612.html
This ad was posted THREE (3) days before I was "let go." I wonder what money she plans on using to pay this position....
Furthermore, I wish the best of luck to the intern who just slaved away for the past three months thinking he was going to be hired into this position... clearly, he is not, since this is being advertised. I love it. What a fucking joke.
Oh, also, because of the stress of losing my job, I am now once again severely breaking out. This time, I fear I will need to make the leap and just go on Accutane. Sadly for me, I was paying $300 a month out of pocket for insurance (since it wasn't offered through my old job), and now I will not be able to afford insurance until I start working again. Looks like things are about to get even better in my life.
#blessed
If you have ever worked with an all-female team of managers, and they're all PMS-ing at the same time and you think THAT is bad, try working for a a male to female transgender woman, who is on hormones and taking a combination of recreational drugs for three days straight every weekend.
My boss gave me ecstasy pills as part of my severance package. I'm not really sure who the fuck does that, but by me telling you this, maybe you can begin to understand the gravity of my situation.
I went into this job with an open mind. Like, how cool and progressive was it that I was working for a startup that aimed to revolutionize the industry, and my boss was a transgender woman donning heels and crop tops, who openly talked about drugs? Sounds great right?
It was great, until I started realizing that she bro-ed around with my male co-workers, gave all of the exciting assignments to my male coworker (because she couldn't trust me to take care of them), and just generally disregarded my opinions, despite the fact that I was the only woman on our team (apart from her), and therefore, my opinion should have mattered even more so.
I thought it was ridiculous I was feeling this way - discriminated against by a male to female transgender woman, who clearly should have known about the struggles of discrimination and sexism. But, I wasn't wrong or alone in my beliefs, as our one, female intern ended up quitting after only a month and a half. She confided in me that she felt like my male co-worker was the only one whose opinion was being valued or adhered to in terms of decision making etc. She also said she felt like our boss didn't like her or value her opinions as a woman, or give her the same acknowledgement she was giving to our two male interns at the time.
This really resonated with me, and after she quit, I began to feel the same way, even more so, now that I was once again, the only woman on the team.
I tried to put up with it, and suck it up day after day, reasoning in my own mind "how can I possibly feel this way?" or, maybe it's all in my head. I started to feel left out, and ostracized simply for being a woman.
My boss also failed to keep me in the loop or have one-on-one feedback sessions with me. Instead, she regularly conferred with my male counterpart, and would spend chunks of the day shut in her office with him. He started ass-kissing even more, and made it a point to go to parties with her, and buy Further Future festival tickets too so he could schmooze with her there. Dude had no life outside of work, and is one of the worst individuals I have ever met. He would regularly talk about artists being "hot," and when we initially had interns applying, he said that he wished "one of them would be a hot chick." Um, the last thing I knew, this was a place of work, not a fucking dating service.... I guess I should forgive him though, because he probably hadn't been laid in like a year, since he was such a dick, and I don't know any girl who would fuck with that.
Our boss was a total deviant, making us spend an entire chunk of one of our work days to all sit on our cell phones so we could obtain the coveted Burning Man tickets she so desperately wanted. Cause, you know, a festival like Burning Man (http://burningman.org) where everyone is fucked up on drugs and running around the dessert naked for 10 days, is essential networking for the further growth of a technology based startup firm!
We were late getting paid pretty much all but two pay periods that I worked there. I can tell you, being paid late truly made me miss working for a corporate company and a company with HR. With all of the crap I put up with at my retail job, at least we were always paid on time, and if I was being treated unfairly, I could report it to HR, and I know I wouldn't lose my job for doing so. It was highly inconvenient to be paid late, and now in retrospect, I can assume (and accurately so), that we were late getting paid because our immature, party-monster of a boss, was spending company money on festival tickets, partying every weekend, and drugs (I watched her take 4 different drugs in one day once).
The day that I got "let go," We were a full week late being paid. My drug addled boss never came into the office before noon. Most days she came in around 1:30pm. We were supposed to be paid Friday, the 15th. I figured that as usual, we were just a couple of days late getting paid. However, by the time the following Wednesday rolled around, and I had bills due, I was getting pissed. I messaged my boss Wednesday morning, asking when I could expect to be paid.... no answer. She came into the office and was immediately holed up in her office in "investor meetings" all afternoon. Oh, and by the way, she used to wear mini skirts and crop tops to these investor meetings - no fucking wonder no one was throwing money at her company. But, I digress....
The next day, Thursday, we still hadn't been paid. I was really furious at this point, since she outright ignored my question, and I had bills due, and our paycheck was a full week late. Once again, she wasn't at work when I came in at 10am, so I messaged her with the same question "When can we expect our paychecks to go through? Thanks!" No answer. Although, she did spew a bunch of orders on various other message channels, so I knew full well she was online and had seen my question. She finally answered with "I'll talk to you when I come in." Alrighty....
She finally came in at noon, and didn't have time to chat with me until she had chatted with two of my co-workers, behind her office door. Finally, her door opened and I went into her office. I once again started the conversation with "Hey, I was just really wondering when we can expect to get paid... " when she told me to sit down.
She went onto explain that she hadn't even done payroll yet and didn't know when she would be able to because there was literally no one whatsoever in the company bank account. Then, she followed that up by saying she was going to have to "let me go" because she couldn't afford to "keep [me] on the team."
At this point I was irate. Her telling me she had to 'let me go' actually was a less pressing matter than when I was going to be compensated for the last three weeks worth of work at this wretched, sinking startup run by an egomaniac party monster.
I started crying and laughing at the same time as the shock set in. How the fuck did I end up working at this joke of an institution? How the fuck was I getting "let go"? and how the fuck had I not been paid yet? I think I actually kept saying "what the fuck?!" as she was speaking and "I can't believe this."
I basically told her I wasn't leaving until I had been compensated for the last few weeks, and she decided she would take cash out of her own account to give me. She told me that she wasn't going to be able to afford to pay the others until an investor put cash into the company account, and I held my tongue since I wanted to tell her that dressing in a dick-grazing, leather mini skirt and crop top probably didn't do much to help the investor situation.
I also confronted her for not telling us in advance that she couldn't afford to pay us on time. Having a warning really would have helped since I carelessly blew most of my tax return since I thought I could afford to do so since I was making more money.
I took a walk outside for 30 minutes, so she had time to run to the ATM. During this time, I continued to cry. My leather purse strap slipped over my body and severely cut two of my fingers on the way down. Now I was not only walking around sobbing in broad daylight, but also profusely bleeding from my fingers and sucking on one of them to quell the blood. I was a hot mess.
I went back to the office and took my pay in the form of cold, hard cash. My boss offered up some ecstasy pills, which I willingly excepted, saying "this is the least you can do for me." I can't believe that part of my severance package was drugs. What a damn joke. For real.... un-fucking-believable.
I walked out of there feeling like a combination of shit, failure, humiliation, regret (for ever working there), anger (towards my mess of a boss, and dick-wad coworker), and also relief. Thank God I wouldn't have to deal with that shit anymore.
I don't even care if this company turns into the next Google or Instagram (although chances it will never make it that far since it's being run and operated by an egomaniac,drug-addicted mess of a human). At least I'll never have to work another day, stagnant at an office desk biting my tongue and squeezing my fists so I don't verbally or physically lash out on my asshole-eating coworker who's very facial expressions made me want to choke him out.
I walked home from work that day, in the blazing hot sun, with a puffy face (from crying), bloody fingers, and ecstasy in my purse. I somehow managed to get hit on by every grandpa, construction worker, high school student, etc. I passed. I'm not sure who hits on a woman that looks like I looked at that moment in time - someone sick in the head.
When I finally made it home, I was delirious, like crying and laughing. My WiFi decided to shit the bed as soon as I came home, and four days later, it's still not working.
I am not sure where my life is going or what's going to happen in terms of my job, and the fact that I am supposed to go to Italy at the end of this summer.
I guess it's all for the best though. I'm scared right now, not having a source of income, but also relieved that I got out of that company, even though it was not the best way to go, since I had no time to plan.
At least I have this awesome story to tell people, and know what NOT to look for in my next job.
Oh, also, the real kicker of this situation is, even though she had no money to do payroll and had to cut me to cut down on costs, when I signed onto Craigslist to start job searching again, I found this:
https://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/med/5545431612.html
This ad was posted THREE (3) days before I was "let go." I wonder what money she plans on using to pay this position....
Furthermore, I wish the best of luck to the intern who just slaved away for the past three months thinking he was going to be hired into this position... clearly, he is not, since this is being advertised. I love it. What a fucking joke.
Oh, also, because of the stress of losing my job, I am now once again severely breaking out. This time, I fear I will need to make the leap and just go on Accutane. Sadly for me, I was paying $300 a month out of pocket for insurance (since it wasn't offered through my old job), and now I will not be able to afford insurance until I start working again. Looks like things are about to get even better in my life.
#blessed
Monday, April 18, 2016
What I've Been Up To
It's been a while since I posted... far longer than is acceptable. I haven't *published* an entry in three months. I say "published," because I have actually written several entries, all of which I can't share publicly (or at least not at this point in my life) because the consequences would far outweigh the pros of being so open and honest about my life.
So, what have I been up to? Well, I partied every weekend for basically two months straight (with a few out-of-control weekday nights thrown in for good measure), then of course there is work, and my relationship (cooking, relaxing, eating, movie nights), and I went home two weekends in a row as well.
Other than that life was going just swell, with no complaints, which (as you know) isn't the kind of inspiration or motivation that drives me to write. Now that things are not so peachy fuckin' keen once again, the old inspiration has hit me like a ton of bricks. This means, that I spent the last two weekends home, scrubbing my apartment, babysitting my niece, and putting all of my savage thoughts into writing.
I have found a new, twisted and extremely cathartic satisfaction in writing acerbic Craigslist ads. I'm not sure why I've taken to this.... or how the idea came to me, but it helps me get my inner demons out, and it is also fucking hilarious to get replies. Here are two such examples:
I Will Get You Hipster Trash Skinny
How you, a common, homely, middle-brow citizen who eats regular meals and drinks in excess on weekends can possibly obtain a thigh gap that is enviable, protruding hip bones, and a stomach that becomes distended as soon as you swallow a single grain of rice?
Have you always wanted to make your friends jealous to the point of accusing you of having an eating disorder? Do you long to make your family question your health when you go home for the holidays? Do you want to make ex-boyfriends suspicious that you might be battling a drug addiction, or instead of eliciting cat calls, perhaps you want middle-aged fat women to openly comment things like "My god, you're so skinny!" or "you need a cheeseburger!"?
If what I have just described is your dream come true, you're in luck. I am about to divulge to you the diet of the hipster models that you envy. In only 3 short months, you can turn your life around and achieve the body that you have healthily been trying to attain for the better part of your twenties. In only 3 short months, you too can walk around in next to nothing in public, post naked selfies on the gram, and spend hours lip-synching into a brush wearing nothing but a triangle-top bikini as you film yourself to share on Snapchat. Does this sound like everything you've ever wanted and more? Good; this is all you SHOULD ever want in this modern world. Because if you can't make normal teenage girls in the midwest develop eating disorders due to idolizing fake ideals, what else is your life good for? Is there anything MORE important than looking good in the photos you snap at Burning Man to post on your IG and show the world how fucking cool you are in your pasties and john lennon glasses and futuristic headpiece?! NO.
You're going to need cash. Lots of cash. And not for those expensive juices - although, those expensive juices will be a good prop, you know. You should carry one around at all times in case a friend tries to invite you out to dinner or a colleague wants to grab lunch - you simply pull it out of your purse and say "I'm sorry, I'm doing this whole juice cleanse thing right now!" Being the ass-licking, posing piece of hipster trash that most of your Bushwick dwelling friends probably are, they will nod in total agreement and ask you how it's going and probably want to try it. Fooling people into thinking you're cleansing is much better than declining real food without an excuse- then they might think you have a "problem."
Anyhow, the cash! You are going to need this cash to invest in your dietary supplements - adderall, and cocaine. Take one adderall in the morning to get that initial high, proceed to take multiple shits (see? Same thing as a professional colonic!), and stave off your appetite until the work day is over. You are allowed to have a few cups of coffee to keep the adderall effect going throughout the day Once you leave work, it's time to keep suppressing that appetite with some Coke.
Keep alternating between blow and molly every night for the next two weeks, and you will be emaciated in no time.
Bad Santa/Mick Jagger Children's Photography
f you're looking for a Bad Santa/Mick Jagger-esque children's photographer for your next child's birthday party look no further. I will show up to your child's event, hungover as f*ck. My favorite call time, is Sunday morning at 10am after a night of partying with my friends. Once your friends smell the scent of Jameson and Pinnacle on me, they can give me disdainful looks, avoid conversation, and treat me like an invisible servant... they can also judge you for hiring me. Your friends will delight in my sexual pants (courtesy of American Apparel) as I bolt for the bathroom, thanks to the explosion about to happen in my pants because of liquor and coffee consumption.
As I crawl around the floor on all fours attempting to take photos of your undisciplined, screaming children, you can also shake your head as you watch me taint your precious, BPA-free toddler with my fireball breath.
I will make sure to look presentable and child-friendly in my sexual pants, and caked on mascara that I slept in.
For An Extra Fee, the Following can be Obtained: Pit Stains/Extreme body odor, a broken heel, rants to all children under the age of 5 with political context, assault and battery on bicycle delivery people outside of the event, copious amounts of pizza ordered and billed to the host of the event, shared bumps of coke in the ladies room, and pop-up rave full of hipster trash.
As I crawl around the floor on all fours attempting to take photos of your undisciplined, screaming children, you can also shake your head as you watch me taint your precious, BPA-free toddler with my fireball breath.
I will make sure to look presentable and child-friendly in my sexual pants, and caked on mascara that I slept in.
For An Extra Fee, the Following can be Obtained: Pit Stains/Extreme body odor, a broken heel, rants to all children under the age of 5 with political context, assault and battery on bicycle delivery people outside of the event, copious amounts of pizza ordered and billed to the host of the event, shared bumps of coke in the ladies room, and pop-up rave full of hipster trash.
And there's a lot more where that came from kids >:-)
Other than expressing myself via obnoxious Craigslist posts and entries that maybe I will share two years from now, I've been up to the same old - same old: cooking, alternating between going out and staying in watching shitty foreign films, plotting murder, etc.
And as always, I'll leave you with some sluttery. You know how we do around here.
And as always, I'll leave you with some sluttery. You know how we do around here.
Sunday, January 17, 2016
Will I Ever NOT Be a Mess?
As I lay in bed typing this, I realize the only time I write is when I have fresh writing material. Fresh writing material only happens when something significant happens- this means, that most of the time, when I write, It's because I did something catastrophic or my life is in some catastrophic state. What a sad fact...
Today, as I write, I am hungover as fuck. I'm talking, vomiting up water, pounding headache in my temples that advil can't stop, and probably running a fever of like 102 as my little, abused body tries to process the liter of vodka I ingested last night.
I thought these days were done. I thought I was done drinking forever. However, after being sick all week and not even leaving my house for three days straight, I was going stir-crazy. This meant that by yesterday evening, when my cold symptoms had subsided enough that I didn't feel like death, I NEEDED to go out. A person goes crazy when they don't leave their apartment in three whole days. I think I left just once on Friday to go to the doctor which is literally a 1 minute walk down the block.
Anyhow, I digress. I am fifty (50) shades of orange thanks to Hampton Sun, so I have that contributing to my status of first degree mess. I felt like such shit from being sick and hardly moving, that I thought a nice, faux tan might boost my spirits... WRONG. I look like a fucking Oompa Loompa right now. My stomach is orange, my feet are spotty and just look like I was running barefoot through orange dirt. Last night, before I decided I was going to go out, I contemplated sitting home and making Bolognese sauce. Today, I wish that I had stayed home alone all night and cooked. Did I mention that it feels like someone is hammering my head right now?
I was almost assaulted by a cab driver. I lost both my debit card and my ID somehow; which, in 10 years of drinking, I HAVE NEVER DONE, no matter how black out drunk I've been. I'm not really sure how last night, of all nights, I managed to lose both. But I feel like a total failure right now. I already called to cancel my debit card, but the bar I was at is not open yet, so I have no clue if they have my ID. See? This is why I prefer to just stick to drugs and stay close to home when I want to have fun. Drugs have never done me dirty like this.
Oh yes, the Bolognese.... I knew I was going somewhere with that. Anyhow, because I decided NOT to stay home and make Bolognese, I didn't go to the grocery store. This means that presently, the only things in my fridge are some Frank's hot sauce, other assorted condiments, two eggs, some carrots and celery, and some foul, hard Gorgonzola that smells like sh*t. Yeah- I'm not sugar coating anything right now.
I feel so vulnerable and sick right now that it's comical. My hands are shaking.... I feel like death. I checked my phone log to see who I called..... I should be put in jail.
Anyhow, my friend put me in a cab last night, which I have no recollection of. When I arrived near home and went to pay, I realized my debit card was missing. Not thinking yet in my drunken state that I should use my credit card, I freaked out that my debit card was missing and told the cab driver I couldn't pay him. I was a fucking mess and crying at that point, and he basically held me hostage in the cab, parked on Bedford Ave for 20 minutes, like interrogating me.... "well how do you plan to pay if your card is not with you?" etc. I think at one point he threatened to drive me to the police. I'm not even lying. I can't believe that this was me last night. These things DO NOT happen to me. What the fuck?! Anyhow, after 20 minutes of sitting in the back of the cab with this douchebag not helping me out at all, it dawned on me that I could use my credit card, and ended up doing so. My life is a fucking disaster.
When I woke up today, I remembered my debit card was missing, but then as I checked my wallet, I also realized my ID was missing. Like, why the fuck would I have even taken my ID out of the plastic casing? Where the fuck did my ID go?
I checked my phone to see who I called.... shameful. The call log had like 10 missed phone calls and facetimes, and then 10 more placed facetimes and phone calls. I pray to God that I did not actually spend anytime on facetime since I was undoubtedly a disgusting, drunken mess.
I never know how it gets to this point. This is why I try to avoid alcohol at all costs. Drugs never do me dirty like this. I don't get hungover from drugs. I don't lose important shit when I'm high. I don't even have any half and half for my coffee right now.... FML. How am I supposed to feel better when I have to drink black coffee? And now I have to go vomit again....
So here I am, fifty shades of orange, eating frozen blueberries in a desperate attempt to feel better, and wondering how a person replaces an ID....
Today, as I write, I am hungover as fuck. I'm talking, vomiting up water, pounding headache in my temples that advil can't stop, and probably running a fever of like 102 as my little, abused body tries to process the liter of vodka I ingested last night.
I thought these days were done. I thought I was done drinking forever. However, after being sick all week and not even leaving my house for three days straight, I was going stir-crazy. This meant that by yesterday evening, when my cold symptoms had subsided enough that I didn't feel like death, I NEEDED to go out. A person goes crazy when they don't leave their apartment in three whole days. I think I left just once on Friday to go to the doctor which is literally a 1 minute walk down the block.
Anyhow, I digress. I am fifty (50) shades of orange thanks to Hampton Sun, so I have that contributing to my status of first degree mess. I felt like such shit from being sick and hardly moving, that I thought a nice, faux tan might boost my spirits... WRONG. I look like a fucking Oompa Loompa right now. My stomach is orange, my feet are spotty and just look like I was running barefoot through orange dirt. Last night, before I decided I was going to go out, I contemplated sitting home and making Bolognese sauce. Today, I wish that I had stayed home alone all night and cooked. Did I mention that it feels like someone is hammering my head right now?
I was almost assaulted by a cab driver. I lost both my debit card and my ID somehow; which, in 10 years of drinking, I HAVE NEVER DONE, no matter how black out drunk I've been. I'm not really sure how last night, of all nights, I managed to lose both. But I feel like a total failure right now. I already called to cancel my debit card, but the bar I was at is not open yet, so I have no clue if they have my ID. See? This is why I prefer to just stick to drugs and stay close to home when I want to have fun. Drugs have never done me dirty like this.
Oh yes, the Bolognese.... I knew I was going somewhere with that. Anyhow, because I decided NOT to stay home and make Bolognese, I didn't go to the grocery store. This means that presently, the only things in my fridge are some Frank's hot sauce, other assorted condiments, two eggs, some carrots and celery, and some foul, hard Gorgonzola that smells like sh*t. Yeah- I'm not sugar coating anything right now.
I feel so vulnerable and sick right now that it's comical. My hands are shaking.... I feel like death. I checked my phone log to see who I called..... I should be put in jail.
Anyhow, my friend put me in a cab last night, which I have no recollection of. When I arrived near home and went to pay, I realized my debit card was missing. Not thinking yet in my drunken state that I should use my credit card, I freaked out that my debit card was missing and told the cab driver I couldn't pay him. I was a fucking mess and crying at that point, and he basically held me hostage in the cab, parked on Bedford Ave for 20 minutes, like interrogating me.... "well how do you plan to pay if your card is not with you?" etc. I think at one point he threatened to drive me to the police. I'm not even lying. I can't believe that this was me last night. These things DO NOT happen to me. What the fuck?! Anyhow, after 20 minutes of sitting in the back of the cab with this douchebag not helping me out at all, it dawned on me that I could use my credit card, and ended up doing so. My life is a fucking disaster.
When I woke up today, I remembered my debit card was missing, but then as I checked my wallet, I also realized my ID was missing. Like, why the fuck would I have even taken my ID out of the plastic casing? Where the fuck did my ID go?
I checked my phone to see who I called.... shameful. The call log had like 10 missed phone calls and facetimes, and then 10 more placed facetimes and phone calls. I pray to God that I did not actually spend anytime on facetime since I was undoubtedly a disgusting, drunken mess.
I never know how it gets to this point. This is why I try to avoid alcohol at all costs. Drugs never do me dirty like this. I don't get hungover from drugs. I don't lose important shit when I'm high. I don't even have any half and half for my coffee right now.... FML. How am I supposed to feel better when I have to drink black coffee? And now I have to go vomit again....
So here I am, fifty shades of orange, eating frozen blueberries in a desperate attempt to feel better, and wondering how a person replaces an ID....
Friday, December 18, 2015
The Old Rusty Scale
Making schnitzel at 2am... why? Because that's just how we roll in this household. I guess the insomniac lifestyle isn't over yet. Just when I thought my days of staying up until 3am every night to see my boyfriend were over... ;) Nahhh man... I knew life was too good to be true when I thought we were finally going to have conducive schedules. Also, guess who's making a guest appearance at Highline on Saturday night... Yep. This girl. ;) I'll let you take a gander why....
^ My theme song ;) I CAAAANNNTTT GETTT NOOOO SLEEP
The holiday season is upon us.... that means sexy dresses. This is the time of year that the dress that's been hanging unworn in my closet for the past three years finally gets to shine for one night out. Like this little gem from NastyGal... I've owned it for three years and wore it only once in Vegas.
My Morticia Adams look...
And my slutty look, which is of course, the most preferred look of all.
And the look that sums up my daily outlook on life.
It doesn't even feel like the holidays to be honest. I am usually on the Christmas bandwagon as soon as Thanksgiving passes, but this year, I just don't feel Christmassy inside my black soul. I think it's the weather. It's been warmer this month than it was in late September. I feel like I'm still in September actually. I already got my Christmas present though... MY JOB :D :D :D :D which is the only thing I have actually wanted for the last two years of my life. Merry Christmas Kelsey ;)
Other than my plans to go full balls-to-the-walls this impending weekend; my last few weeks have been pretty chill (well, minus the girls night that ended with me sleeping on my carpet). I have been doing a lot of cooking... now that winter is upon us, it's back to rich pastas, rich sauces, and bottles of red wine (or Vodka). You know how I do...
Spaghetti alle volongle.
Truffle Polenta with mushrooms, breaded chicken, and gorgonzola cream sauce
Mezzi Rigatoni alla Bolognese
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