Tuesday, November 30, 2010
I'm no stranger to idiotic commentary.
I am extremely capable of saying some of the dumbest shit you've heard since your last migraine, and the sincerity behind my words will make you lower your head in embarrassment (for my parents). Although I've gotten lightyears better, I was the queen of saying things without thinking. The running joke for YEARS was that I had blonde roots. (YEARS, I tell ya!)
You can imagine how I felt during this text message exchange with my classmate, Brooke. Brooke is from Columbus, Mississippi. I'm trying not to make that mean anything (but sometimes I relapse and assume her father is also her uncle). Brooke is also 50% of the dumbass duo that seems determined to send our marketing group project straight to remedial hell.
Her: "Did you get my email?"
Me: "No. I'll check now."
Her: "Its in school email."
(Really? I was going straight to the Yahoo account I never gave you...)
Me: "There's no attachment"
Her: "No attachment. Are you sure?"
Her: "Do you have a regular email address?"
(You mean the one you indirectly referred to earlier that you never had in the first place??)
Me: "Yes. (ID)@gmail "
I didn't even reply. I just yelled at my phone for letting that text message be shown. And then I bowed my head in prayer over the 30% of my grade that Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum are clearly trying to sabotage.
When I'm the smartest one in the group, EVERYONE is in trouble.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
My Pippi Longstocking Shit
This is probably going to sound really bad, but I'm okay with that.
Let me tell you,
I'm OVER the Cinderella isht right about now.
Maybe I sound embittered. Maybe cynical. Maybe deflated.
All of that could be true, but I am over all of the "Some day my prince will come" remixes. Prince Charming could knock on my door right now and I would look that sucka MC up and down like "What the fukk do YOU want??"
Where did this come from?
But the straw that broke the camel's back?
Eva Longoria's failed marriage.
If little miss perfect (who I don't relate to at all) can't get a happily ever after,
I for sure ain't believing it exists.
Even if it does, I ain't interested. Not now.
I know all men aren't horrible (although I could make a pretty strong case for the majority). But right now? I honestly don't think men are worth it. There is nothing I think they have to offer me that I actually need at this juncture in my life. Absolutely nothing. And I know this phase will pass like all the others, but for right now I'm content.
I'm on what I like to call my Pippi Longstocking shit.
No man came riding in to save Pippi. She had her own horse. And a monkey. Some pirate treasure in the attic. A few super powers. Some homies (Tommy and Anika). And no Daddy issues (except for the fact that he was lost at sea and she hadn't seen him in a while). She lived in her own world and did whatever the hell she wanted...no matter how unconventional it was.
Now Pippi Longstocking was a child (I get that).
And Cinderella at least had her period (I saw those boobs).
So technically, I'm much closer to Cinderella
(only in menstruation...no cleavage in these cups!).
I'm on my Pippi Longstocking shit.
And if he ain't my homie, he can kick rocks.
(For now anyway.)
Cinderella better get a damn job or a degree...
because from where I sit,
"Happily Ever After" ain't all the brochure says it is.
ESPECIALLY, if she's banking on Prince Charming to take her there...