Pretty Bitches

I went through a phase when I was obsessed with makeup tutorials on Youtube. That is until I realized all those bitches are pretty!  Its not like they need the makeup to look good.  Yeah, they definitely know how to enhance their shit, but its not like they are performing miracles.  I want to see an ugly girl do a tutorial and come out looking like a supermodel.  How am I supposed to take makeup advice from someone with flawless skin, not a wrinkle in sight, and perfectly proportioned features?  I am now on a mission to look for an ugly troll who can teach me how to look like Angelina Jolie, Kim Kardashian, or Heidi Klum...then I’ll be impressed.  On the other hand, who wants to take beauty advice from an ugly troll???

I found this video quite interesting...This girl is HILARIOUS!  

Why do these remind me of myself?

Yep, me trying to bake.  Yes, I've set my kitchen on fire before.... just ask Bhav, my college roommate (story to come).

SERIOUSLY!

My new moto.

this is what I try telling myself everyday...

Can a Sister Get a Little Time???

Naturally, my sister is one of my best friends but I haven’t spoken to her for a while.  I mean really spoken to her.  Sure I speak to her on an almost daily basis whether it’s over the phone, via Skype, or BBM.  (She lives in London and I’m in Chicago).  It isn’t the time-difference that makes communication a challenge though….It’s this little nugget.   

Who does she think she is in that little hat???

My sister is a different kind of housewife—the stay-at-home mom of a 10 month-old toddler.  My adorable and gorgeous niece Lara is definitely a handful.  Always bouncing around curiously playing with things, and discovering the world around her.  I love every inch of her fat little body, but she needs to give her mother some space or at least learn how to share her!  Can a sister get a little time???

My sister’s BBM conversations now consist of 2 word responses with picture after picture of the precious little one.  Our telephone conversations sound something like: 

London: “Hey how are y….Baby Laraaaa wanna talk on the big-girl phone?  Ok, here talk to Auntie” 

Me (Chicago): “Hello Lara.”

London: “’odijfrog’epr;mg’;df da da dada dfgkdf;gll"….DIAL TONE.

Our very limited face-to-face conversations on Skype usually look/sound something like this: 

Don’t get me wrong, I love that little bundle of turds, but I do NOT love the endless baby talk.  I don’t understand why everyone instantly becomes a wide-eyed brainless 2 year old when a baby is in the room.  We are all guilty of this!  I am probably the best example.  Anytime I see an adorable little baby (especially my niece) I forget that I am a self-respecting 27 year old and start goo-ing and gaa-ing, speaking like a high-pitched tyke, barely able to put a proper sentence together.  Sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it! 

All I’m saying is I miss having my sister around to speak to.  Of course, if I had a little nugget as cute as her I wouldn’t want to spend a moment without her either!  She’s so cute I could just eat her.   Just look at that angel face!  If she were mine, she’d definitely be missing a couple of fingers and toes…  

Don't be fooled by that sweet little face... 

Look at that pout...Attitude! 

(Note the baby talk in this video too)

A Fight to Remember

I know many of you think that my MAMA DRAMA entry is about my hubby.  NO WAY!  If you read it carefully enough, you will see that I’m talking about other people in my life.  I don’t think I’m strong enough or have the energy to ever deal with a Mama’s boy… I got lucky.

I must admit the one thing I have been blessed with in my life is a wonderful hottie who loves me.  I mean really loves ME.   Everything from my frizzy-as-hell hair (which he’ll never be able to run his fingers through), to my bulbous long nose, to my chicken-nugget looking fingers and toes.  He puts up with my raging mood swings, my repulsively bad morning breath, and my inability to clean a toilet. 

He is always there for me when I need him.  He takes out the trash.  He even tells me I’m beautiful on a daily basis.  And what girl doesn’t like to hear she is beautiful—even if she does have her hair wrapped up in a turbie-twist, eyebrows that haven’t been tweezed in a month, and a zit the size of Pakistan on her chin??

It’s true every female has her insecurities, but spend a day with the person who loves you unconditionally and he will make them melt away like a Popsicle on a hot summer day.  But even with all of the positive reinforcement from my hubby, a girl just gets a little crazy sometimes…One time in particular.

I remember it like it was yesterday because it happened to be one of the 3 major fights we’ve had in our 4-year relationship, 2 of which have been a result of my problematic insecurity. 

Our three major fights:  (each of which I will most likely discuss sometime in the near future)

1. Ex-girlfriend Issues
2. Forgetting Sarah Marshall
3. Pair of Leggings

No, we are not some miracle couple who never fight.  We bicker like bratty little kids at recess all the time.  We just both happen to be passive aggressive and just don’t have the vigor to fight with one another. 

The fight I’m referring to today is #2, Forgetting Sarah Marshall.  It took place in the fall of 2009 when the movie was already out on DVD.  I saw the movie before and thought it was hilarious and couldn’t wait to finally see it with Hubby (just boyfriend at the time. How he married me after this is beyond me). 

If you haven’t seen this movie, YOU MUST!  It’s a hysterical movie complete with a great star-studded cast—Jason Segel, Mila Kunis, Jonah Hill, and Russell Brand!  The beautiful man I’d meet years later at my amazing bachelorette party…kind of ironic now that I think about it!   

Anyway, we died laughing and he enjoyed the movie as much as I did.  Afterward I continued to ogle and drool over how absolutely breathtaking and stunning Mila Kunis looks in the film.   Who would have thought Meg Griffin and Jackie Burkhart had so much sex appeal??  Naturally, I began to discuss it with him and do you want to know what that little shit replied???  I bet you think he agreed with me and just took it too far, right?  I WISH!!!  He had the NERVE to disagree and say that Sarah Marshall (played by Kristen Bell) was hotter. 

Now, I agree that she is adorable…but hotter than Mila Kunis?  Especially after her role in that movie?  I WAS LIVID!  First of all, Sarah Marshall is the fucking antagonist of this story.  Why on Earth would you even look at her in that way?  That is like being offered a perfectly cooked juicy filet mignon and going for a McDonalds cheeseburger that’s been sitting out for a day and a half instead.  What is his problem???  I wish I could say he was joking or just trying to push my buttons, but he meant it.  He meant every word. 

My thoughts began to swirl around in my head and I struggled to get the words out right.  “How?  NO!  Blonde!  The Bad guy!  Mousey.”  I think he knew from the sudden malicious look on my face that this was not going to be a good night.  My eyes grew to the size of walnuts (are walnuts big?), I wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming out of my ears, and I think I was foaming at the mouth a little.  I wanted to smash his face in with a frying pan.  Luckily, we were in the living room of my apartment and not the kitchen.  Things were not very pretty in the hours after that.  It started off harmless enough, but within minutes we were screaming back and forth at the top of our lungs…about nothing!  I don’t really remember what happened after that.  I must have blacked out for a bit, but when I came to I was still pissed and he still thought Sarah Marshall was the better-looking female.  He left my apartment and I thought I’d never see him again.

I wasn’t upset with him because he disagreed with me.  It wasn’t because I wanted to be right (because this time I clearly was).  What got me was the fact that he found the pocket-sized blonde better looking than the brunette.  Was that what it was?  I am the polar opposite of Kristen Bell.  Dark hair, BIG features, curvy (in all the wrong places).  How could he possibly find me attractive if she is what he’s in to?  But wait, that couldn’t be the reason I was so upset.  It’s not like I look anything like Mila, either.  So what was it?

After years of therapy (not really!), I finally realized what upset me the most.  It wasn’t because I didn’t resemble the new object of his affection.  It was because this was tangible proof that I wasn’t magically blossoming into a beautiful swan after years of being a duckling.  (My baby is so amazing to me; he makes me feel like a beautiful swan).  I wasn’t slowly becoming better looking.  I was upset because it was then that I realized the love of my life has BAD TASTE…and this made it official! 

It was almost too much to endure.  Fortunately a few hours later he was back at my door with another DVD.  There was no need for apologies at that point.  Him being there was apology enough, and me letting him in was mine.  I couldn’t believe it! He came back after my psychotic breakdown!  I knew at that moment, he was a keeper… bad taste and all.

*2 interesting details:  His ex-girlfriend is a mousy blonde and the video he brought was Shallow Hal. 

Mama Drama

Mama’s boys! Ukhhhh.  I always thought they were just fictional characters made up to make the story lines in chic flicks or Sex and the City more humorous and interesting.  Boy was I wrong.  These men are REAL, living, breathing, creatures that live amongst us.  They’re everywhere!  He’s your high school boyfriend (although at the time you thought it was adorable).  He’s the fabulous gay man at Saks who convinced you to buy the shoes you know you can’t afford.  He’s the good-looking businessman you see in Starbucks every morning always on the phone (probably talking to his mama).  He’s the hottie you met at the bar last night.  Hell, he’s your mother fucking husband!

Now ladies, don’t mistake a man loving his mama for being a mama’s boy.  These are two very different things.  Luckily, my man loves his mama (its endearing) but he sure as hell isn’t a mama’s boy.  Unfortunately, some lovely ladies I know haven’t been as lucky.  I don’t know how any person on Earth could handle it!  When the hand that rocks his cradle rules your relationship, you are going to be in serious trouble...

A mama’s boy is the type of guy who can’t make any type of life changing decision without mama’s approval…or he’s too much of a pussy to do anything that might make his mama mad, even though it’s the right thing to do.

For the Boys:
Men, why the hell do you need to ask your mama?  You’re a grown ass man!  Why don’t you ask the people whom your decision might affect?  Your girlfriend, your wife, your best friend, or even your employer…  How is your mama going to help you decide whether or not to take your girlfriend on a romantic trip over the long weekend?  Why don’t you ask her to pack your bag while you’re at it?  Better yet, leave your girlfriend at home and take your mama instead. 

A REAL man makes a decision and sticks with it.  If you are close with your mama, you can surely inform her of your decisions and plans.  There is no need to walk on eggshells or defend yourself because you sure as hell aren’t doing anything wrong!  If your mama is sensitive and should be a bit upset over nothing, you should be clever enough to reason with her and have the balls to make her understand your point of view.  Seriously, your mama isn’t going to ground you just because you want to take a much-needed vacation to relax and get away from the stress of everyday life. 

You need to learn to stand up to her to defend what you love or believe in.  You need to learn to separate your adult life from you’re your childhood life.  You need to learn to do your own laundry and cook your own meals.  It’s time to cut the umbilical cord and stop suckin’ the teet!

REALITY CHECK (rant of the day)

I wish I had some fabulous story for you at the moment, but as I mentioned before I don’t have anything of substance to discuss with you.  No real adventures.  Sure, I like to travel and I’ve been to some amazing and exotic places.  But I’m not the type that goes and intermingles with the locals.  Why would I?  Didn’t your mama teach you not to talk to strangers?  (Maybe on my next vacation somewhere cool I’ll try for the sake of the blog.)  When I travel, I pretty much stick to the group I’m with and wreak havoc with those people. Or I try to be the sane one that keeps everyone grounded so one of us doesn’t end up killing the other.  Although I can stay pretty calm in hectic situations, I don’t think I’d be very good at covering up a murder.  Actually, I take that back.  I’ve seen enough episodes of Forensic Files and CSI to commit the perfect murder AND cover it up without getting caught.  Ever.

I’ve never had an unexpected life changing experience sitting next to some old man on a subway (although I do have a horrifying story of a little old Indian man violating me on the T, which resulted in a brand new BMW for me, but this story will come later).  I don’t have a compelling tale of how an elderly woman on an airplane touched me with her wisdom and helped me see life in a new light.  I don’t have some incredible story that people want to hear about.  I’m not Shantaram.

I would recommend this book to anyone but people don’t read anymore, so I really hope it becomes a movie soon.  Johnny Depp, of course, would play the main character.  He’s the only one good-looking yet crazy enough to make it seem realistic.

Why don’t people read any more, you ask?  Because the iPad was invented, that’s why.   People who used to read most likely have iPads, which they bought so they could read more but with all the fun distractions on those things, I don’t think anyone will make it through another chapter of another book again.   Wouldn’t you rather be auto tuning your voice to sound like T-pain? Or playing a game of Plants vs. Zombies (those are real apps) than read through a page and a half of Paulo Coelho’s eloquent writing describing the color of the main character’s hair? 

Where was I?  Oh yeah, Shantaram…Life changing experiences.  I guess I’m just not that deep.  Does shit like that really happen to people?  I think people just like to glamorize their lives to make themselves seem important.  Or is it that we truly believe we really are so important?  I suppose we can’t really blame ourselves though.  People get fucking awards just for participating in shit these days. My little cousin had some ribbon just for being a part of something.  When I was a kid we got ribbons for first, second, hell even third place…We got recognized when we were WINNING. But a ribbon for fucking participating?  Really?   

Anyway, I’m not that important.  I’m not entitled to shit.  I don’t have some special skill that I can brag about in a blog.  People really just have no shame or self-awareness anymore.  NONE.  We are talking about a generation who made Snooki famous.  And why is The Office so funny to us?  Because we all know someone who is a little bit like Michael Scott… I refuse to be that person.  I know who I am and what I am capable of.  

Sure, I read a lot.  I know plenty about the world, but who am I to preach to the digital public on my knowledge?  There are millions of people (I won’t say billions since the majority of the world lives below the poverty level) better at any thing I do.  True, I can smile and say nice things when I really just want to punch you in the face. But does that mean I deserve a medal?  Or some type of award?  Nope.  I can write stuff.  But I’m no Salman Rushdie.  I can carry a note, but you sure as hell won’t find me auditioning for American Idol.  Simon would probably shit himself.  Do those terrible singers actually think they are good?  I’m sure some show up to be funny, but many are actually devastated and truly SURPRISED that the judges aren’t impressed.  Another example of our generation’s need to be praised and almost non-existent self awareness. 

I am normal.  Average—maybe a little too average.  I have no real talents.  Maybe this is the problem with our generation.  We all think we are the best and think we are just entitled to things.  We don’t want to work for anything!  Back in the day people didn’t live with their parents until they were grown ass adults!  Now it is not uncommon to see a 28 year old unemployed asshole living with his mama trying to figure out what to do with his life. Or an almost 30 year old still living off his parents going on an intercontinental expedition to “find himself”.  Even the healthcare bill changed the age of a dependent for health insurance to 26!   Twenty six!  Really???!  

The generations before us were adults at 18.  FULL STOP.  In the generation of baby boomers you either made it or didn’t by the time you were 35.   Now, 30 is the new 20 and I don’t mean it in a good way.  30 year olds these days are just now understanding how to live like adults.  When my dad was 30 he had a wife, 4 kids, owned a house, 2 cars, and still took our big ass family on vacations.  I’m 27 and don’t own shit.  I have $142 in my bank account and 38 cents in my wallet.  38 fucking cents!   

True, the economy is bad but how much can we really blame on that?  It’s probably only so terrible in the first place because of stupid men (GW and co.) who want to blow shit up.  I’m convinced there’s a whole conspiracy behind why we go to war every 20 years.  It has something to do with those damn weapon manufacturing companies.  They have more money than they know what to do with and the best lobbyists (mind-washers) on Earth. 

It’s also so terrible because of that feeling of entitlement we all seem to have. Those Wall Street assholes didn’t want to work for their fortunes.  They were greedy and found a way to cheat the system, took advantage of it and here we are today… broke as the crazy crack head on the corner.   That’s really all America is going to end up being.  A crazy crack head on the corner talking about how great he used to be before the war.

The economy is so bad they created a homeless puppet on Sesame Street! And I’m not talking about Oscar the grouch who lives in a garbage can. I’m talking about a real little girl who doesn’t know where her next meal is coming from.  No joke, look it up.  Fucking sad.  She probably has 30-something year old parents who still live off their parents...

My Virgin Post

The digital world has got me.  It is impossible to avoid these days.  I’ve been wanting to blog for a while now, but didn’t feel I had much to offer the digital world or the time to do it.  I’m not really an expert on anything.  I don’t have many blog-worthy adventures.  I’m not the greatest photographer or frugal fashionista…  So what am I going to blog about?  I guess my lack of adventure.  Rants, things I observe, and pretty much anything that pops into my head.  So here goes!

I’m boring.  Yep I said it.  The 3 most interesting things about me are: I’m married (3 months), broke, and bored.  I’m not going to try to make my life seem glamorous and exciting.  It isn’t.  I pretty much lounge around all day thinking, reading, and Facebooking. A LOT.  I even started Tweeting.  Unfortunately I only have 32 followers, so that’s pretty sad.  More proof that people don’t give a shit about what I have to say…and so I’m alone almost all day with nothing but my thoughts.  

I don’t know why people are so afraid of things like snakes, spiders, and ghosts.  What’s scary is a woman who has been alone all day with nothing but her thoughts.  Now that is fucking terrifying!  I’m convinced women work today not because in the 1960’s and 70’s men suddenly started realizing how amazing we are, but because they were all sick of having to deal with their crazy ass wives and girlfriends.  (Have I been watching too much Mad Men?)  


Women’s Suffrage my ass!  I’m not some anti-feminist that doesn’t think women have anything to contribute to the world.  Quite the opposite, actually.  I think that thousands of years ago men just got lucky, suppressed women, and have been too damn stupid ever since to realize WE ARE SMARTER THAN YOU!!  




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