Man...I FEEL like a WOMAN!

I wonder who Don is screwing now...

 Remember the good old days when all women had to do was put on some make-up, a few pearls, cook, clean and take care of the kids? Ala Betty Draper... Nope me either!!! We don't remember because those days are loooong gone my friends. All the women who independent throw your hands up at me...If you are a dude, don't give up on this post just yet. This isn't a "feminist rant" (I just cringed at the sound of that but I gots to speak the hombre language) It's an honest and genuine opinion on how much pressure there is on women that men could never possibly understand. NEVER. EVER. Unless you became a woman and lived as one for years. Reverse of Cher's daughter/son...whatever.

I am the money honey

Not that long ago, women did not go to college, run corporations or were the major sources of income for their families.  These are certainly great overdue accomplishments (obvs), the problem is that as we acquired market share over men, we never shed the other duties/expectations. They just keep piling up and now women are in so deep, sometimes it feels like we are going to drown.

So who feels like they are fighting for their lives as the big tidal wave approaches?! Me. I am not sure how I got here, but...shit being a woman is HARD. Fo reals! I mean like REALLY hard. Not a second goes by that I am not reminded by television, internet, the greedy sons of bitches brilliant minds behind marketing, and even other women themselves that my 'best is just simply not enough'. All the social push and shove and hateration of today's society makes our lives even more stressful than they already are!

We have to worry about finding prince charming, education, career, sex, marriage, eggs, beauty, aging, exercising, nutrition, stress, gray hair, our thighs, having and raising kids, cleaning, cooking and proving we can do it all. Question: Who exactly are we proving that to? Who set the expectations? Who keeps track? What happens when they are not met?! And how the hell are we supposed to do all that sober? I suddenly have a new appreciation for the drunk neighbor with all those kids. I didn't know what she was up against! Forgive me universe!

For me, I think the answer is I set those expectations based on the assumptions those around me will make. I suspect it seems to others that I am lucky to at least be married and have been able to cross prince charming off my list, but I beg to differ. I think because people perceive that to be a difficult fete (there is a serious men shortage - HOLLA single ladies!!) now they expect more accelerated progress on other areas such as children. Wait...take that and rewind it back. Let's discuss this since it is a HUGE issue in my life. The worst thing peeps tend to do is question me on why I don't have children. They can range from family members, friends, co-workers, to even strangers who use this as actual chit chat commentary. (This is why we need a 'how to talk to people' curriculum in our schools - to prevent awkward conversations like these from ever happening!)

No really...peeps got some balls. I don't go around asking others why they haven't lost 40lbs, or why their children are little versions of scary demons, or why they continue to work at a job that they absolutely detest. I was raised right and I talk about that shit BEHIND THEIR BACKS! Never to their face! But apparently that same courtesy is not extended to me and I constantly find myself justifying why I haven't had precious little rug rats. Well let's see...I work 40+ hours a week, I am still trying to finish my education (because nowadays women face even tougher competition against men in corporate america and higher ed usually provides an advantage) and maybe...wait for it....wait.....maybe I just don't want any right now? GASP! YEA I SAID IT! I don't hang others out to dry Salem Witch style for wanting THAT and only that so why am I judged for NOT WANTING THAT.  "But aren't you afraid your eggs will expire?" (Actual question from a person I know) No. I am not afraid they will go from overeasy to fried. In between paying my bills bills bills, working hard for the money (so hard for it honey!), going to school AND being in a marriage I got bigger fish to fry. Will they ever cease and decist? I hope so because I am gonna be forced to act a fool up in hea one of these days in response! 1...2...Meet me outside...meet me outside...(Where you been DMX?! Miss you babes!)

Suck it dude!

As previously mentioned women have to work twice as hard in corporate America to climb that damn ladder. Unless you sleep around... since my company mostly employs gay men that is not really an option for me (DAMN IT!) Also as a fashion retail company there is pressure to look stylish but not too stylish....(Who does she think she is) there are make-up and hair rules that we abide by...then of course is the issue of those extra pounds...who has time work out? Better question: Who actually WANTS to?! Heels or no heels? They are so cute but my feet hurt... I could go on and on.

I am expected to know about 'woman things' but also about 'manly things' like sports, guns and jackass (hands down the most embarrassing moment of the male species: the birth of that show) I should be versed in politics, and the latest trends (by the way both require extensive reading time) Have beers and cocktails. Talk about Sons of Anarchy and the Real Housewives. Be gentle and mothering but also be prepared to open a can a whoop ass. Be passive and aggressive. Play donkey kong and be fierce with a pair of rubber gloves and the clorox bottle.  Listen to Rap/Heavy Metal and Love songs.  Wear jeans and dresses. Be a lady in street but a freak in the bed. The duality of what is expected of women never ends AND is not ever extended to men.
I think the yellow in the rubber gloves would instantly enhance your look gents... Try it sometime. Do it for your Betty....

 Luckily for some of us we may like rap as much as we like love songs (guilty!) But I don't see that kind of pressure put on males. In fact pretty soon women will surpass men in many aspects of our society....so when will we be able to get some slack? Are we the ones who should give ourselves slack? I would like to mention that I am married to a wonderful man who has never asked anything of me but to be happy and love him back...simple right? And yet I still feel that I need to be all these things to be a successful modern woman. Do I?

 Whitney (actually Chaka Khan) says 'I am every woman and that its all in me. Whatever you want I just so happen to do it naturally.' WOA! That's a lot of pressure sister diva. While Shania says 'the best thing about being a woman is the prerogative to have a little fun, and that men shirts and short skirts are totally appropriate while coloring your hair and doing a dare.' (Hard to believe this song actually won a grammy)

Am I a Shania? Or am I a Whitney (minus the crack, which is WACK and battering from Bobby Brown. BOBBY!!!)? Actually I think I am just a girl living in captivity ala Gwen Stefani circa 1995. (Also would like to be a rich girl circa 2004) I am being held captive by the self-inflicted belief that I need to do everything all at the same time. It cannot be done all at once but instead it can be and should be done over a lifetime. This way it can be savored, relished and shared.

 I know what it feels like for a girl (thanks madge) and I just need to do me. Even if sometimes that means not being good at everything...like sewing....sighs.....or doing everything before I am 40...double sighs...So to all the ladies in the place with style and grace...do YOU go watch the Shania video...and get totally crazy and forget you are a lady...

Keep it funky and fierce always.

The Charlie Sheen post...you knew it was coming...

**Disclaimer: This post focuses heavily on the unforeseen but intense connection between Biggie Smalls and Charlie Sheen and I was inspired to write about it. If you are unfamiliar with this 'so called rap music' you are SOL sorry!


"No No No NOTORIOUS!!" This is how I envision Charlie Sheen waking up each morning (or really just between each line of coke he does). His goddesses sing the Puffy part "He is.... He is.... NOTORIOUS" No bitches!!! Don't you know he is a WINNER! For the love of biggie smalls!!! I envision Denise Richards doing the Lil' Kim part "Titties out like wha....don't give a f*#!" (Actual lyrics...sorry Denise...call em like I see em boo!)

Ahhh America...you love a good crash and burn don't cha?! Just like a car accident we just have to slow down and take in the demise of anyone who is a prominent figure in our culture. Politicians, businessmen, media, and specially celebrities. But nobody crashes and burns quite like Senor Sheen. Not even an F-18 BRO!! It all started late last year when this WINNER! was causing all kinds of illegal shennanigans in Room 112 (where the players dwell...) It seemed that from that point on the 'actor' began to conceal less and less just how great he REALLY thinks he is. Along with how much money he has (no need to worry his accountant handles that), and how much he spends on the white magic powder and pussy.....cats. The more he unravels the more I want. The more we want. I thought I told ya that he won't stop.

Are you ready for the Torpedo of TRUTH?!

 Charlie charlie can't you see sometimes your words just hypnotize me. Watching one of his video rants is like being at the perfect corner with nobody standing in your way and witnessing someone fall on their ass. It's just so amusing you can't NOT laugh. Sure you feel bad, just like you would for the person who fell, but that comes after we laugh. I am still on the laughing stage with Carlitos.

There have been so many gems delivered flawlessly by one of America's least talented assholes... yup I said it!.  I have never been a fan....oh you couldn't tell?! Sorry to deceive you, but you don't need to be a fan to be as deeply fascinated as I find myself.

 I had to IMDB his "long list" of accomplishments. First of all as a general life rule, I don't ever watch anything on CBS. Their programming is atrocious not my cup of tea, and being the TV fiend I am, there is nothing remotely interesting about Charlie Sheen, some dude who looks and acts like a D-lister (he makes the academy want to give Kathy Griffin an Oscar) and some ugly little kid. Sorry peeps real talk. (Save your hate mail till the end to make sure you include ALL the ways in which I have offended you!)

I myself take offense to the media saying he comes from hollywood royalty citing his uber talented brother Emilio (really? Mighty ducks? No but really?) And Big Poppa Sheen (AKA Ramon Antonio Gerard Estevez) West Wing? Never saw it but okay. The Departed: such a spectacular movie even Charlie would've been good. No way to fuck that up. Doesn't count. Sure he's been in a LOT of movies but that doesn't make him royalty because unlike Deniro and Williams who have woven themselves into the fabric of our culture, people are over could care less about Big Poppa's roles.

What is it about Carlos that America loves so much? Well let's not get carried away...not all of America loves Charlie o. A big portion of "two and a half men" high ratings comes from the midwest...middle America just lurrrvvvesss that hilarious crazy yahoo. Aint he A HOOT! (As I do my best Paula Deen voice) Sure there are people from other geographic areas who watch it, I've been told many a time by peeps I know that it is sooo hilarious and a must see. Um...No thanks.

The Adonis has had the famous family, the money, the status, and the beautiful women. Why wouldn't America root for him? He's hot and sicker than your average: drug abuse, prostitution, amazing inappropriateness, deranged arrogance, a certified winner with tigerblood running through his veins with uncanny hand-eye coordination to properly handle a machete. I bet you bitches can't do all that. DUH WINNER!
 No matter how many times he screws up we are there foaming at the mouth to give him another chance, solely for the purposes of an even bigger fall.

The fact that CS became a cash cow for CBS is a direct indication of just how lousy television has become in the last decade. CBS knew that hiring Charlie given his track record was a risky bet but it resulted in millions. How ya living Charlie Sheen? In mansions, in Benzes giving ends to my friends and it feels stupendous. The good life always has an expiration date. Believe it. Charlie is exactly like a derivative. Built up from nothing but selling itself as the playa with the mostest. And like derivatives it can only work for so long when the entity at the center of it all is so clearly unstable. No rational human being says in the utmost seriousness that reciting lines is worth more than a measily $7 mil.  Not even Gary Busey would say that.

For Charlie Mo money does not equate to mo problems, and to the trolls at CBS it was all about the Benjamins all along... AND STILL IS...so who watched out for Charlie? Nobody did. Not his family, not his management, not his wife ( & ex-wives) and certainly NOT his dealer. While he has absolutely contributed to the one-liner hall of fame (right next to "DON'T TASE ME BRO!"), his life is a sad pathetic attempt at undeserving greatness. If CBS is truly in talks with him to bring him back to the show, AFTER EVERYTHING THAT HAS GONE ON we have not yet seen the full scope of what is to come: (MORE AMAZING YOUTUBE VIDEOS). Regardless my advice to Charlie is to hoard all the coke and alize he can get his hands on.
I am sorry warlock but the ride is slowing down and your time is nearing its' end. Unless of course you release a sex tape with Big Poppa playing in the background then we start back at square 1.
So the only question that remains is...What would Biggie do?

Doctor doctor gimme the news...I got a bad case of...beiber fever?!?!

So it finally happened. The pandemic that is beiber fever has finally seeped its way into my pores and my soul. Well not really, ok sort of. I actually put a lot of 'valuable research' time into this post because other than some random lyrics and many many acronyms and nicknames (which I will shower you with throughout this beiber experience) I barely knew anything about this homo sapien. I remind you he is just a humanoid like the rest of us, because I might have come across a website that compared him to God. Not being a very religious person myself...I defs thought it was...a little scary..? Sure but scarier: Does that make Willow Smith Jesus? Do they have that in Scientology? Never mind....

I can't pinpoint the exact moment I became aware of the beibs but I can tell you exactly when I became a belieber. That little fucker got to me...ME! A tough long island bitch who passes judgement like pot at a teenage party. Like the chronic, the beibs puts you in a trans of sorts. An exestensial experience shall we say. I heard a little bit of a song but the only words I could make out were 'baby baby baby' after all his audience is still developing mentally and the lyrics CAN'T be that challenging. Little by little I acquired more lyrics...'Baby baby baby ohhh like baby baby baby noooo like baby baby baby ohhhh...I thought you'd always be mine' Aw poor guy...he is so heart broken he can barely get the words out...no? Oh... so that's the actual chorus...well he's like 12 so...oh he's 16 you say? Well...um...that's some hook!! He promises we can 'shout whenever' and that for us he would 'do whatever' but for the beiber army that's often not enough.

I'd rather face the Spartan 300 sausage party than be confined to a small space with 2 beiber fans. Their love for the beibs is unwavering and they will do whatever it takes to proove it to you and to each other. Friendly fire among the beliebers can often generate as many casualties as the ones launched against non-beliebers. Their teenage (but not limited to toddlers, adults, moms & cougars) passion is so deranged from reality that for the innocent bystanders who may have been vaccinated against the fever - it almost seems like some kind of fandom hell..AN OUTBREAK! (Enter Dustin Hoffman in his yellow suit). But peeps the beibs just wants 'somebody to love'...that can't be too difficult when he's single handedly established the meaning of what a viral pop star is and a new way for his soldiers to perform beiber duty.

In the old days I told my diary how dreamy my future husband to be Nick Carter (BSB bitches!) was. My audience was my dad...probably snooping around in my shiz. My passion was exposed at the lunch table when Stacy told me she loved Brian because he was like wayyyy cuter than Nick. After school I called Nicole (on my own private line in my room-legs on the wall staring at my posters on the ceiling- the good ole days) to make a case for why we can't be friends with Stacy because clearly she was an idiot to say something so stupid. But now these single digit aged little humans can go on their macs and upload a 10 minute rant on youtube and get thousands and thousands of hits within the hour. Eventually polluting every social media outlet and in many cases (I am sure) their message reaches the beibs himself! All in an afternoon's work between nap time and bath time. Its quite mind-blowing! For Beiber youtube was the vehicle that got him to Usher who will be insanely rich because of this little boo...Oh. my. gosh. indeed Usher (KA-CHING!)

Imagine being a parent. A co-worker told me her daughter cried for 2 hours after JB lost out on a grammy. We are quick to blame parents but if I remember correctly I liked/worshipped/did anything my parents told me NOT to.  That's like what kids/teenagers do right? So what is it about this pre-pubescent little squirm that gets all these diapers/panties in a bunch? We know its not the lyrics or music itself, though it's catchy you know somewhere Macca is calling it 'pure rubbish'. Its not his intelligence (or lack there of) as we all saw that interview where he didn't know what 'german' was. Like the actual word and its meaning. (Sorry Beiber parental units that I def blame YOU for) The only thing left is that inattainability that drives women and even 3 year olds to maddening levels of hysteria. I liken Beibs to Edward. YEA I SAID IT.

Why was twilight such a huge phenomenon? Because inside all of us there is a 12 year old dying to get out, fall in love with a vampire, die and then become immortal (DUH!) But this time we get to live it without the drama and the angst of our teenage years. It's like a good dream when you know you are in deep REM sleep but you continue on because you can and it's harmless.

And most importantly bec we can enjoy it.

My 'research' was listening to the beiber songs and I made sure my other half wasn't around to witness this debacle. It started innocently enough and then next thing I knew I was balls out on the kitchen floor with my hairbrush and my sweet moves. (that's right I got sweet moves you didnt know about!) It felt great. It felt organic. I think that if I was 12 I would have enjoyed it but not with the depth and perspective that experience can give you. When I first heard 'I want it that way' I was feeling so much emotion/angst/sadness (because Tommy didn't like me back...sighs) that I couldn't appreciate the most basic part of the song. Just the music. I would go around yelling 'Tell me whyyyyy...Aint nothing but a heartache' Common sing a little you know you want to...

So that's what I think Beiber fever is all about for the older crowd anyway. Its just that we know genuine fun unexpected moments don't come often when you are a jaded biotch, such as myself. When they do they must swiftly be embraced at full speed or they will pass by as fast as Lindsey's rehab stints.  I am not saying I will (EVER) be front row at one of his concerts or his "little" movie (only 3rd highest grossing docu of all time: Eat it Michael Moore {Bowling for Columbine & Sicko} and wash it down with a nice tall glass of SUCK IT! Says the Beibs) anytime soon but I won't be hating on the beibs.

As far as those crazy dilusional children who cry over their JB, well he wasn't the first and he surely won't be the last! So cry on kiddies while you still can. When the days of student loans, credit card bills and lack of health insurance catches up to you, crying over the beibs will seem like a far distant memory you wish you could relive. Trust me.  He wants 'somebody to love, he doesn't need too much, just somebody to love'. So let's love the beibs back, it will be good for you and hopefully the fever will break soon!

Forget you!! No really, I already did!!!!

I can't believe 10 years ago I was a young fresh faced optimist who honestly (no for reals) thought the world was mine for the taking. Now I think 'what the hell did that idiot know?!' The truth is, she didn't know shit. Nothing. I walked around thinking because my mother left and I did things on my own a little sooner than others - I was some kind of prodigy and I knew exactly how this cruel world works thank you very much. I just shook my head as I typed those lines at my own ignorance.

Here is the thing: I have probably learned the biggest life lessons within the past 3-4 years. In high school the only thing I knew for sure was: how to brake the rules and make out...and only on some days how to dress myself. Some days.  I thought my best friends were for life and nothing could tear us apart. BFFs forevsssss!! FALSE. I thought I was going to be an actress on broadway. FALSE. I thought groceries can't possibly cost that much...right?! FALSE. I thought moving out on my own would be the coolest and every night would be like an awesome sleep over (watching ghost and eating cookie dough) FALSE. I thought I could pay for everything with my credit card. HA! DOUBLE FALSE! I thought I would marry my high school sweetheart...ok fine that ONE came true. It's like the allegory of the cave only you already think you are outside and enlightened when in fact you are still in the dungeon attempting to crawl your way out next to Charlie Sheen.

Na Na Na Na Na

So now a decade has passed (DAMN!) since I opened a locker with pictures of Will Smith getting jiggy with his bad self, and I am finally feeling like a certified-legit-1st grade-adult. That was until I got wind of our HS reunion and I went all "I'll be watching you" on everyone's ass and stalked facebook for at least 3 hours. I am not proud of it, but I have the balls to admit it.

Suddenly I was 17 again gossipping (with myself) about what this one and that one was doing.  So much for being a mature adult. Wait did I actually say mature? Lucky for me I have a partner in crime in my husband (sorry darling!) who jogs my memory on who John was (Ohhhh THAT douche!) or which Lauren was the one who played soccer. Just like google, you start with a very specific search on facebook and 30 clicks (and near vision loss from staring at the screen so intently) later you have no idea how you perused the walls of all the D-bags you wanted to punch in the face then. I guess I was just making sure...yup I still want to kick your ass.

Ok so how did I end up there? I decided to type in my high school name and class of 2001 since I saw something vague on the page of one of the few people I keep in touch with. The page was public and so was the list of all its members. Next thing I know I looked through the profiles of at least 75 people. Most of them were almost entirely public. One was better than the last and then EUREKA! I spotted the trend. Most of the people behind the 'organizing committee' (and I use this term QUITE loosely) were the ones who were incessantly tortured and were now much cooler than their former selves. No really, I am like cool now because I have muscles, and I got a super banging girl to date me and I got a pimping ride. So what that I still live with my moms, I gots a situation going on! Total and utter disturbia. But the most astonishing thing was that the more 'superior' D-bags were now in cahoots with the inferior ones! That's like high school blasphemy! The prom queen is squirming somewhere as she reads this unbearable thought. Actually a shout-out to our Prom Queen who is honorably serving this country! She was never mean, she never got fat and she is still as smoking and warm and beautiful as ever.

There are companies solely dedicated to organizing high school reunions. (Is it THAT serious? I ask) The demand for these services has grown dry since the emergence of facebook and its domination on our ability to find whomever we want whenever we want. Alumni offices are so 2000 and late. Any Joe-six pack can start a reunion page and put a deposit at a VFW.  And apparently he did. Ok wait...So you want me to PAY to see that you are actually in fact-not better than your former self AND are still a douche in all your glory!?! Ain't that some shit! But why when I can do that at my leisure in my underwear and greasy hair from the comfort of my own home?

Even though I really enjoyed (for the most part) my high school years, the best part about leaving was getting a clean slate. Its knowing that you don't have to think about the time you peed your pants in 3rd grade, or the absolutely lame rendition you did of Ace of Base's 'I saw the sign' at the  "talent-show", or remembering the awful date with Scott where he fell asleep right there in the movies and drooled on your shoulder. (All sad but true stories people.) You get to dictate how your new and improved life is going to go and WHAT you share with the new people you meet.

Real talk peeps: The truth is I have no desire to reconnect with any of the people who are organizing or attending this "EPIC" reunion. I absolutely didn't like you then and I certainly don't want to pretend to now. Showing up would be like my own Cee-lo tribute to my classmates. I know I am better than I was 10 years ago. I was an atari and now I am an x-box. I don't need the approval of John or Lauren.  I also don't feel the need or desire to tell Lisa (the slutty whore from last week's post) to go fuck herself to her face over some bullshit that happened OVER 10 years ago, because I just don't care enough to. UPDATE: Facebook confirmed she is still a skankasoreus.

Facebook makes it easy to find the chosen few we want to genuinely reconnect with.  I have done that and will continue to do so. I have grown up enough to finally realize how much we think those years matter when in fact they only matter if what comes afterwards (AKA your ACTUAL life) is totally lame. My semi-charmed kind of life may not have unfolded how I thought it would but it makes my years in high school look like a bad dry run. Nobody in my current life gives a shit that I was on prom court or helped to work on the float for homecoming. They don't care that I played Anne Frank's mom or that I sang about how "we go together like rama lama lama ke ding a de dinga a dong" (CRINGE!)

That time in my life is over and I am content with how I left it. Its fun to reminisce about old times with (actual) friends but not with people I barely knew then and don't care to get to know now. Who got fat, who lost weight, who finally settled down, who had a baby out of wedlock, who is GTLing and who isn't amounts to nothing in the end...But hey if you want to go and attend the reunion I still wish you the best with a... Fuck you.