Rambling thoughts of a mad woman ...

I haven't written in a minute and for that, my fan and a half, I'm sorry. I haven't had much good to write about and I don't think this will be any different, but I'm going to write anyway.

I think I'm broken.  Much like Chumbawamba, I've been knocked down before, but I could always get back up again.  This time, though, I seem to have the legs of a drunk baby deer with a prosthetic stiletto hoof two sizes two big ... I can't get my footing. (Enjoy that visual) :).

I've met a couple of guys over the past couple of months, but no one who interests me enough to talk to again let alone see again. I'm pretty sure I'm the dented can on the shelf this time and for that, unfortunate men I've met, I am sorry.  I'm sure you're all very nice people, I'm just not very nice at the moment.

Also, I worry that I may be on my way to alcoholism.  OK, that's not true, but I did seriously consider drinking wine before work the other morning instead of coffee.  Seriously. I mean think about it! Wouldn't a nice wine buzz start your morning off nicely? I may have to make up a story about my red teeth (I like kool-aid) and slurring speech (I'm tired), but I could sure get through back-to-back meetings with less of an urge to punch someone in the privates!

Wow, I'm a big Debbie Downer at the moment. Oh well. I'll close with this: is it wrong to seriously consider having a poop cake delivered to my ex for his birthday tomorrow? Do you think I could put enough icing on it and mix it with Devil's Food to cover the smell? He wasn't a big sweets person, so I'm not sure he'd fall for it, but it makes me happy thinking about him eating a big piece of shit cake!

I told you I wasn't very nice at the moment ...

I went to Brazil and all I got was this lousy bald spot??

Forewarning: this one is vulgar. If you're a prude or a judger, just save yourself time and close now. :) If you can appreciate my sense of humor, read on!

Today was officially the closing ceremonies of "Bush Fest 2012." As with all good closing ceremonies, there was music (I'm pretty sure we jammed to some old school rap), tears (one word - RIP), and laughter (Jen was still drunk at 9am).
My co-competitor, Jen, and I made our way to the European Wax Center bright and early with one goal in mind: go bald, or go home!

When we parked, we saw this sign, inviting us to enter through the front door:

We appreciated the courtesy and free wax offer, after all, the competition has spanned a month and they had their work cut out for them, but Jen was quick to let them know that they need to show love for the back door as well (see below):

After the back door hijinx, we made our way inside and were promptly schooled on the difference between a "full" and a "brazilian" wax. Many of you may been under the same impression as I that a full was basically a "high and tight" and the brazilian was the "whole shebang," but actually, the only difference is the "butt strip."

Yes, ladies, for those of you with hairy taints, you can get that waxed for an additional $8. Thankfully, neither of us required a taint waxing, so we proceeded into our SEPARATE rooms with our very nice, patient and professional waxers.

I'll leave the details out, but I will say this: no other woman has been that up close and personal with my chocha. You think it's going to be awkward laying there, spread eagle getting wax spread all over your bits, but it really wasn't that bad. 

Now, it's like I've got a shiny, new toy and no one to play with it!  Thankfully, the "newness" shouldn't wear off for a few weeks, so we'll see what I can drum up. I am going on vacation to Cali in a couple of weeks ... Maybe a young, stoned, impressionable cougar-chasing surfer is in my future?? :)

I get $5 off when I refer a friend, so ladies if you're interested in going from "woogie" to "wow!" let me know. Guys, you can keep yourself manscaped as well, as long as it's above the waist. I'm sure there are some guys that have a "waxing their nads" fetish, but the European Wax Center is not the place for you! Take that shit down to Lola's Strip and Rip! :)

Until next time ...

It's time ...

In case you're new to this blog, I was dumped by the man who I thought was the love of my life a month ago. I guess he's right, he really did do me a favor in the long run, because I don't know how I could have ever loved someone who treated me with such disregard.

I've had a month to marinate in it. I've moped around, bitched, moaned, cried and fought of a huge amount of hatred in my heart. Now, it's time to move on.

It's been a long time since I've felt so much anger toward one person. You know how many times when you break up you wish the best for the other person and hope they end up happy one day? Nope, not this time.

I literally wished him to die and burn in Hell and thought that maybe then he'd feel the kind of pain he caused me. The past few days, though, things have lightened up. It's not healthy to hold on to that kind of anger, so I'm letting it go and moving on.  For reals this time! :)

You know what that means, right? It means it's time to end "Bush Fest 2012" and celebrate the re-debut of "Spiffygina"! I figure by the time I get around to meeting someone and fornicating again I'll practically be re-virginized, so I'm sure this is worth some type of celebration, right?!  Pomp and circumstance, horns, balloons, confetti ... maybe I can get the Marching Cobras to come out and bust a move on behalf of my shiny new girly bits!!

My co-partner in Bush Fest 2012 bowed out earlier this week. We didn't officially "measure up," but I'm pretty sure we made it back to the early 80's. Impressive ...

So, now all I have to do is find my game and get back out there, right? Now ... what did I do with Meat's number ...? :)

Peace out, bitches!

Pity pool-a-palooza

Happy Saturday.  I'm single and home alone watching the Olympics while drowning my pity in a bottle of cheap wine. Seems to be common place this month.

I don't want to wallow in a pity pool, but this is my fucking blog and if I need to get something off my chest, this is the place to do it.  So, if you don't want to "hear" me bitch and whine tonight, stop reading.  OK ... you've been forewarned.

I was thinking yesterday that I've spent more of my life single than in a relationship.  I've had two very short-lived, failed marriages which seem so long ago and foreign; neither lasting more than two years. The longest time I've been in a relationship with anyone - five years - was my last ex-husband and we spent most of that dating. Maybe I'm meant to be single? 

I don't really like being single, that's the problem.  Some people have tried to cheer me up by telling me that relationships are like a yard sale; they look good from a far, but up close it's just someone else's crap.  That actually made me laugh, but it doesn't make it any easier for me to get over this relationship.

I'm tired of "friends with benefits" or "no strings attached" interactions. I want a partner to walk the world with, share experiences, laugh, cry, fight, fuck. All of it. I thought I had that, I really did.  I'm having a very hard time letting the unexpectedness of this breakup go.

See?  I told you I was wading around in a pity pool tonight!  Sweet holy fuck. SNAP OUT OF IT!

The only time I don't think about and dwell on this is when I'm working, so I'm thinking that I may need to be a work-a-holic for a few months.  I catch myself talking to my dogs and apologizing to them for their "daddy" leaving us. How fucking pathetic is that?  They loved him too, that's the problem.  And he promised he loved us back.

So, to make a game out of how long it will be before I am "intimate" with another guy, I've decided to grow a jungle bush.  Yep, a full on, 1970's, get out the hedge trimmers bush.  My friend "J" (I'm protecting the anonymity of her bush) has decided to do this with me.  We're laying down the gauntlet and have lit the torch to kick off a "Bush Off"!

I'm not really sure how we're going to prove who's got the bigger bush when it's over or what the time frame is, because let's face it; I don't want to see a picture and I doubt she does either.  Regardless, we're going to make our bushes our bitch!  Or something like that ... Anyone else feeling froggy and want to join in, just let me know.  The more the merrier.  Let your bush flow free!!

OK, I'm feeling better.  Thanks for "listening." :)

When life gives you lemons ...

So, I got dumped this week.  Out of the blue, what the fuck are you talking about, dumped. 

If you've been following me for at least the past six months you know that I've been dating who I thought was the last guy I'd ever date. I was locked in and committed to this relationship.  Now, it wasn't a perfect relationship, but I don't believe there is such a thing. Every relationship has it's ups and downs, but I thought we loved each other enough to work through the downs.  Apparently I was wrong.

Although I'm angry, heartbroken and confused, I'm not going to trash him in my blog.  I'm a bigger person and I'm working on fixing some karma that I apparently fucked up somewhere down the line. I will say just this one thing: it's fucking ridiculous that he didn't have the decency to have a face-to-face conversation with me about how we could work through this and save our relationship. He ultimately told me in a text message that he "didn't think he'd ever be enough for me and that I'd be better off without him." Chicken shit way out and I don't believe it.  There's something he didn't want to tell me that would have come out face to face ... but I digress.

Thankfully, I've gone through enough heart break in my life that I've learned some good coping mechanisms. In between crying outbursts I work out, bitch to my friends (hello friends), drink cheap wine and kiss my dogs. It's a process and I'm on "official" day two.  I'll let you know how I'm feeling on day seven. :)

I'm not ready to start dating again. The thought of it exhausts me, but the thought of being an old maid sitting around alone, relying on my vibrator for orgasms scares the shit out of me.  I'll let my heart mend for a few and then give it a try again.  He may have knocked me down for a minute, but he didn't knock me out. 

Lemonade anyone??




 

Pants? Who needs 'em?!

It is officially too hot for pants.  I've decided that it's pants-free Thursday and I'm feeling pretty good about it.  I invite you all to strip down and join in the revolution! Cellulite, be damned!

So the Supreme Court upheld "Obamacare" today. The raging liberal in me has been flying imaginary birds at all of the Republicans I know, and anyone I come across who I think may be a Republican.  It's been fun. The rest of me just wonders, "what's next?"

I don't for a second believe the "Rs" will let this go and if Obama can't hold onto the White House, who knows what Romney and his Magical Pants Posse will do?
I'm excited that birth control pills will soon be free so I can have unprotected sex with men and not worry about getting knocked up - that's the bonus for me! (Disclaimer: I do not have unprotected sex with random men ... only one ... and he's fixed.)

We'll see how this continues to play out.  Like everything else in politics, I'm sure it will be blown up, over-exaggerated and beaten into the ground while the Republicans continue in their efforts to deport the "illegals" who are putting their blood, sweat and tears into doing the jobs their white collar lazy asses wouldn't do anyway. But, I digress ...

Now, onto the fun stuff, what have I learned this past week?

- I've learned that opportunities are presented to you for a reason and they should be considered with an open mind and open heart.  I'll leave it at that for now.

- I've learned that while things may look great on the outside, often times it's not so great on the inside.  To my friend who decided to go back to being single this week - you're beautiful and smart and deserve the best.  Don't settle for illusions, uncertainty and broken promises.

- I've learned that regardless of who it is, it's kind of flattering to be hit on at a CVS Pharmacy. Or anywhere for that matter.  I looked good in my black dress and he noticed.  Thank you random black guy.  I appreciate the compliment!

- I've been reminded that I don't care how cheap the wine, if it's cold, it tastes good when it's 110 degrees outside.

That's all.  Peace, love and pants-free fun!

I'm a bloody wealth of knowledge. For reals.

True to my word, it's time for me to share some of my newly acquired "Spiffy wisdom."

Today was an average day. A day like most others, except that today, I learned the symptoms of syphillis. You may have two questions: 1) why wouldn't you already know this and, 2) why in the hell do you need to know the symptoms of syphillis?!?

Allow me to address your questions first: 1) I've never worried about contracting syphillis as I'm not a sailor, nor am I a scoundrel (while I do cuss and act like one occasionally). 2) While perusing the news today, I came across an article about syphillis and how it's soon becoming an untreatable STD as it's adapting to all different antibiotics.  It's becoming the SUPER STD!  Flying through your bloodstream with the greatest of ease.  It's a sore!  It's a rash!  It's blindness, nerve damage and mental disorders!

This article lead to a discussion regarding which STD could cause body parts to fall off as one of my co-workers swears she heard about a guy losing his nose from a rogue, un-treated STD.  I still haven't figured that one out, so if any of you have an answer to that, let me know! 

The second thing I've learned (which I've actually known for a while, but I'm reminded of it each time I pack for a work trip) is that I want to get one of those cool, hard-cased, carry-on size roller bags.  Maybe I could get one with a skull and cross-bones on the outside; that would be FANTASTIC!  Any suggestions?

Until next time ...