rant & ramble

rant and ramble: a possible case of stockholm syndrome

I’ve been at my new job for a month now and I never thought I’d say this there are things I miss about my old one(s).

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I know, so crazy. Especially after all of the blog posts I’ve written, both in my head and on here, all the tears I’ve shed over shitty situations, letters of complaint I’ve threatened to write, here I am missing the place.

Stockholm Syndrome, anyone?

Seriously though, I guess it wasn’t all bad. Like at most jobs, some days were better than others, some people were easier to deal with but all that mattered was that at the end of every other week, there was a paycheck with my name on it.

It’s taking some time to wrap my head around the fact that I don’t work at the Student Center anymore. I don’t have to go there unless I want to, I won’t see my co-workers unless we bump into each other randomly, like at CVS (we live close to each other, it can happen). Funnily enough, I am totally adjusted to the fact that I never have to be behind the desk at the veterinarian’s office ever again. I guess I was more unhappy there than even I realized.

This post is probably a little more for my sake than anyone else’s since I haven’t written in a private journal in years. I wanted to start one again but then I started this blog. So even though there are things that I would want to talk about publically, this will have to do for now. Basically, this is mainly for posterity’s sake.I’ve never left one job for another before. Anyway, I digress.

stop circling the drain, martina. get on with it.

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#sorrynotsorry

I miss…

popcorn parties – we had a real popcorn machine for events like movie night. it went unused for a while, but someone bought fresh kernels finally and then it seemed foolish to not use them. Once we popped, we couldn’t stop, especially when my boss wasn’t there.

rapport/talking – don’t get me wrong, we talk at my new job, but no one knows me. we’re a very small office and the people who I work with have been there forever so they know each other very well. I miss having that with my co-workers. It’s weird to work somewhere where no one knows me. My parents also worked at Downstate (that’s where they met!) for a long time so there were some people who knew me since before I was born. Also, there’s very little chatter. Everyone is doing their job. That’s cool, seeing as we’re at work, but can we take a minute to discuss what is in the water over at the Kardashian Kompound and who’s next?

flow of people – at the Student Center (and at the vet’s office, obviously) there was a constant flow of people. I saw hundreds of faces a day. I talked to them, shared a smile, a helping hand. That’s not the case here. It’s refreshing, but not ideal. I love having the phone ring and having it not be someone trying to push their way into a full appointment book, or not having it be someone asking me to do something they are more than capable of doing. The phone doesn’t ring much, but when it does, it’s usually my boss looking for the office manager, which thankfully, is not me.

music – it was a knife through the heart when I asked if I could play music to help me stay focused (and awake) and was told no because the boss and his wife don’t want it on. My desk phone somehow has a radio on it so at least I have the oldies (who now play Backstreet Boys, #geezlouise) station. It’s really not the biggest of deals, but right now I have a lot of down time so it would be nice to chill out with a little Ed Sheeran or Bruno Mars or, when I really need a pick me up, some Disney.

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my phone – i’m not really allowed to have my phone out, which is a blessing and a curse. First, I don’t have the WiFi password (I’m not even sure if there is WiFi) and I’m not trying to use all of my data. Second, I think we all could use a few hours of a phone detox. However, I miss scrolling. I miss my quick, but plentiful Instagram breaks #instabreak. I can sneak a peek if I don;t have work in front of me, but I don’t want the temptation of it becoming an issue. My boss was adamant about it when I first met him, so best to not step on any toes right now.

dressing up – my new job is suuuuuuper casual. Like, so casual that my makeup routine has turned into (lots of) mascara and some eyeliner. PERIOD. I’m not complaining because it leaves more time for other morning routines, like praying I hit the Mega and then remembering I never bought a ticket. Could I glam myself up every so often? Sure, but honestly, this job doesn’t call for a (light)smokey eye or a bold lip. Even a sweater dress is a little much. I just bought a black tutu (for God knows what reason) so, I guess my weekends just got a little more upscale.

I don’t have a title for this paragraph but I wanted to add, as if I haven’t said it 95863 times already, I miss my co-workers. Specifically, the ones who worked at the desk with me. They really got me through some tough times, both personally and professionally. They were there for the good ones too. We shared laughs, complaints and lots of cake. I miss the gossip. I’m a feen for that stuff and love the juicy deets. There seems to be a ton yet none at my new job. I find myself thinking about what could be going on over at the Student Center often. I keep thinking that my week is still split between two jobs and that I’ll see everyone soon. It’s a process. I’m working through it. Circling back on a related note, I miss the people I got used to seeing all the time. Downstate students and employees, former students, some of who worked with us. I didn’t get to say goodbye to most of them (it would be impossible) and I kind of wish there was a way I could have.

I don’t miss

being asked to do things that were specifically given to someone else and them taking credit for them.

the public (specifically the people who think it’s right/ fair/ not an issue to speak to the receptionist at their veterinarian’s office like they’re dumb/a piece of shit.)

not having set hours/ getting taken advantage of

not getting paid for taking a day off

working weekends

having to find coverage for my shift

not having the internet

not having my own desk

not having functioning heat/AC

misogynistic asshole managers

being spoken to in general like I’m stupid/incompetent/incapable

feeling like I’m stupid/incompetent/incapable

not feeling appreciated

not feeling like I can’t do anything right

doing grunt work (i’ll happily file papers, alphabetize things, cut ribbons, etc. but why would i be asked to clean the bars you put weights on because they’re rusty and filthy, in front of a room full of men, when you know they’re too heavy/awkward to carry out so that I can accomplish this without it looking highly inappropriate, if you catch my drift, when we have a staff of (male)cleaners that could do it. I don’t mind working, but don’t give me busy work just ’cause. or because my being there needs to be “justified”)

speaking of… being told my being at work needed to be “justified” and then not having anything for me to do.

being asked “what are you working on?” and when I answer nothing right now, being asked to do 16 things you, as the assistant director, were supposed to have done already or being asked to do something you, as a man, should do yourself and not ask me, as a woman, to do. (I’m all for equality – 100%, here for it. But, when a man tells a woman to do *insert task that i have now forgotten what was barked at me* and then says, not sarcastically, might I add, “are you able to do that? just get it done” (AND THINK THAT THAT’S OK) he can, quite frankly, go fuck himself do it himself, amirite?

Clearly, I have/had a few issues. Listen, working, in general, isn’t ideal. I really like my new job, but see how fast I’m out of there if I hit the Mega. It’s just nice to get up and not want to go to work because it’s work or it’s Monday or whatever and not because there’s a pit of dread in your stomach because you don’t know what to expect for the day. Or because you just don’t want have to deal with the bullshit. Maybe it will come to that. Maybe not. Right now I’m content. Now if only my love life could catch up.

GOD BLESS.

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came in with tonsillitis, left with a complex

This is not my San Francisco photo dump, but it’s coming, I promise. I had something else to get off my chest first.

Before I left for California, I started to not feel so great. I went to the Urgent Care Center and was given Z-Pack. Easy peasy. In California, it was colder than I had anticipated and I didn’t pack well at all, which probably didn’t help much. When I got home, I was feeling really lousy. My ears were clogged again from the plane, my throat was a mess, I was coughing, the whole nine.

I called my doctor and was told he was booked for the day but the nurse practitioner was available. Great! Sign me up! I hadn’t been to the doctor (minus a few urgent care quickie visits) in a while so I was considered a new patient. Especially since my doctor has moved offices a few times so some records were unavailable.

I quickly got ready and made my way over to the office. I filled out my paperwork and waited to be called. The NP called me in and she started her exam. All was well until…

PAUSE

Let me just say, I 100% understand that she had to ask these questions because I was considered new. Even if the doctor had my records from God knows when the last time I went to him, I had never seen her before and I wouldn’t expect him to remember every detail of my medical life. I get that she was trying to make up a history for me. Also, she was trying to rule out some illnesses that I may be harboring. No big deal.

EXCEPT

She then told me she was going to take my blood pressure. Sure, no problem. I rolled up my sleeve, she cuffed me and started pumping. She took the reading, uncuffed me and said,

Your blood pressure isn’t high… yet.

It took me a minute to realize what she was saying. And then I was like:

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First of all, in all of my almost 30 years, my blood pressure has never ever been an issue. NEVAH, EVAH. And to imply that because I’m fat my blood pressure has no shot of being normal is a bit ridiculous. Of course, I’m confused and a little mortified so all I could manage was a head shake (like a dope.).

Then she asked me if I wanted to get weighed. I said, “well, before I left for California, my weight was ______.” She asked if that was where I usually was weight wise and I said yes, pretty much. Then she asked again if I was sure I didn’t want to get weighed. Jokingly, I said, “nah, why make myself feel more miserable than I already do?” So she walked over to the computer and said, “I’m about to make you really miserable than” (or something, I was checking out by then) and she pulled up a BMI chart.

Now, let me tell you about my BMI. I am 100% mortified by it. It’s waaaaayyyy too high, just like my weight. I know BMI is important in health and weight loss and all of that, but I just don’t like dealing with it and knowing it and all. BECAUSE I’M AN ADULT.

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So, the BMI chart is on the screen in screaming color, I’m 90% checked out, and all I want is a prescription and to leave. Then she hits me with,

You know, if your insurance changes, I can give you a pill to jump start weight loss. But wait until your insurance changes so you don’t have to pay for it.

I’ll admit, for about .70358 seconds, I was intrigued. I quickly realized she was talking about Contrave, which is something I considered, but ultimately decided against. Then I thought:

THE ONLY PILLS I WANT RIGHT NOW ARE ANTIBIOTICS SO THAT MY THROAT DOESN’T FEEL LIKE THE TUNNEL TO HELL. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

I said, “Are you talking about Contrave?” She responds, “Yea, or the other one that I can’t remember the name of. (me: *hard side eye*) I said, “Oh, ok. We’ll see.” Then, and this is the final dig, believe it or not – she says to me, “Yea, I gave it to my niece who was crying about gaining 60 pounds of baby weight. She’s been on it for 6 months (this is normal for a drug like this.it’s not a rest of your life kind of thing.) and now I told her she needs to come off. Now she needs to stop eating.” This was as I was getting ready to leave and she was filling out paperwork for me to get some blood drawn. How about this – check the box that requests a T3-T4 test and make sure my thyroid is in good working order. (I’m sure it is, but it can make the body go wonky if it isn’t). Or, just put the robes away, Judge Judy, and let me leave the room.

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My point is that as a medical professional, you should know that eating is not the only way to gain weight/be fat. Do I love food? YES. Do I have issues with food? YES. Is it your business, especially when I’m coming to you with a sore throat? NOPE. Listen, I appreciate the concern. I really do, more so because I’ve thought about those “wonder pills” before. But could/should she could have simply said something like when you’re feeling better, come back, we’ll go over your blood work and we can talk about your options then? YAAASSS.

I’ve considered it all. Lapband, gastric sleeve, bypass, the balloons, Contrave – all of it. Honestly, they scare me. First of all, surgery. Second, what if I can’t hack it? Believe it or not, they’re very easy to sabotage. Also, the fact that I know how to sabotage them already should speak volumes. Fortunately, Weight Watchers/ diet and exercise work for me. Unfortunately, I’m lazy. That’s the bottom line. You know how I know? Well, because I know myself, but also, in San Francisco, we walked up and down very steep hills and I lived. Barely, but I lived. One of the days my phone told me I walked over 25,000 steps. WHAT??!! A fat slob like me walked that much and my ticker didn’t blow? ya don’t say. I’ve never walked that much at home. I probably never will. I came close once, at like 21,000 steps but it was once and it was probably when I went Christmas shopping. The fact is, I am capable of doing it, I just don’t. I’m not proud of that either.

My feet are temperamental and it makes it very hard to strap some sneakers on and go for a walk or run. Excuse? Fine. But that’s how it is. When you can only walk about 20 minutes before you are nauseous from the pain in your feet, then you can come to me and tell me it’s an excuse. When every pair of shoes rub your feet and make blisters, then you can tell me it’s an excuse. When it takes you 2 days to recover from wearing the “wrong” shoes or from walking “too much (like going Christmas shopping) then you can tell me it’s an excuse. When you have to plan almost down to the last step and constantly have to keep your feet in mind because you forget they suck because you are otherwise young and healthy and should have no issue walking for long periods of time, then you can tell me it’s an excuse.

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I’ve gotten off topic. The bottom line is that just because I’m fat, doesn’t mean I’m unhealthy. Just because I’m fat doesn’t mean I’m unhappy (I mean, I would probably sell my mother down the river to wake up a size 6 tomorrow. sorry ma!) I think because I’ve only heard/read about fat obsessed doctors and never experienced one, this is bothering me more than it should. Like I’ve said, I totally get that she was taking a history and that she’s looking at it as a nip it in the bud type thing. I just feel like it was a little uncalled for.

I went in with tonsillitis and came out with a complex.

Ok, next post *should be* a San Francisco photo dump. *big smile emoji*

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coming at us from both coasts, so to speak

I had another post planned. Actually, nothing was planned, I just didn’t expect to write this today. So don’t expect another, funnier, less political post is what I’m saying.

So, we’ve all seen the toxic cesspool that Facebook has turned into since the election. Normally, I’ll ignore it. Especially since in real, non-internet life, I like these people. They’re friends, family, family friends and I’m usually able to separate the two.

However, today I saw two things that made my normally 98.6 degree blood boil. Interestingly enough, they came from the same person. Before I get into it, let me set some of the scene. There are people that I am friends with on Facebook that even I don’t know how they got there. Some I probably shouldn’t have asked/accepted in the first place and some I should delete, but honestly, I can’t be bothered. That being said, the person who knocked me over the edge today was my friend’s grandmother.

First I saw that she had commented on a post that was congratulating Betsy DeVos on her appointment as the new Secretary of Education. barf. The comment she left was “Congratulations. Make America Smart Again!”

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HOW? HOW IS SOMEONE WITH ABSOLUTELY NO EDUCATION EXPERIENCE GOING TO “MAKE AMERICA SMART AGAIN”? HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW? I would love to be enlightened. And, smart AGAIN? The only time we stopped being smart was when we elected that rotting tangerine. I say “we” very loosely because I had nothing to do with that decision.

I put my phone down for a while but lunchtime rolled around and I was scrolling again. This is when I saw a status from the same person saying “Don,t they ever get tired of demonstrating? Get freaking life already. Who cares what u think.”

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actual gif of me reading that status.

THEY’RE DEMONSTRATING BECAUSE OF PEOPLE LIKE YOU! People who are so intolerant, so close-minded, so uninformed. They’re demonstrating against the bullies and the incompetents that you’ve put into power. So, no. They won’t get tired of demonstrating. Some of their freaking lives depend on it.

To be fair, I know that some people who either voted for Trump or who support him aren’t intolerant, incompetent or uninformed. I don’t think those people have Facebook accounts, though. Or, they are capable of having an adult conversation/debate with someone who doesn’t agree with their views. Also, I know that there are people like this on both sides of the fence. I saw a picture of someone at a protest (I’m not sure which one so I might be taking this out of context) with a sign that said something like “Don’t hire veterans. They’re already broken” or some other nonsense. I find that wildly inappropriate. The shitstorm is coming at us from both coasts, so to speak.

Is there a way to fast forward to a time when we’re through this tantrum the country is going through? Or maybe rewind to simpler “President Bush mispronounced a word” times? Let me know.

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Currently, I’m…

I think, since I haven’t really done one in a while, I’m going to fill you guys in with a Currently post. I know you’ve been absolutely dying to know what’s going on in my mundane life.

Reading: Well, actually, I just finished it but, Dumplin’ by Julie Murphy. I really enjoyed this book. I don’t normally read YA fiction. Unless it’s really good or really (really) hyped. Not that my preferred reading of chick-lit is so high brow but, I digress. Dumplin’ is actually Willowdean Dickson. She’s a sassy, smart, self- proclaimed fat girl. She’s from a small town in Texas, where her mother is a former pageant queen who now runs that same pageant. Long story short, in a moment of defiance, Willowdean and her band of merry misfits enter the pageant. Chaos ensues. There’s a love triangle, which I, surprisingly, really liked. Probably for the same reason that I like the story of Hairspray – the cute guy is attracted to the fat girl. Anyway, bottom line is, I totally recommend this one. And, I hear that there’s a second installment coming in 2018!

 

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click here to check it out on Goodreads!

 

Listening to: I’m not really into podcasts but, like YA fiction, I’m willing to make exceptions. I’m still a big fan of the What Say You podcast from Sal and Q of Impractical Jokers. They haven’t posted in literally forever, but I’m holding out hope that when they come back from their UK tour, they’re ready to record. The other podcast I’m into is the Boys Don’t Like Funny Girls from my blogging bestie, Libby. Love The Bachelor and pop culture (amongst a million other things)? this pod is for you! She’s funny and smart and full of snark. Thank me later.

Thinking about: Speaking of podcasts, I’ve been thinking of starting my own. I have the name and everything. Then I think about my voice and that idea gets put to bed. Also, I’ve had this blog for just over 3 years and I still can’t get myself on a regular schedule so I can’t imagine being consistent with podcasting (podding? casting? whatever.) What could I possibly talk about? I’d have to arrange a co-host every week. Then there’s the question about microphones and software and all of that noise. ugh, work.

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Still thinking about: I toyed around with possibly not bringing this up, but, meh. My blog, my rules. I really wish Meryl Streep didn’t make a political speech at the Golden Globes. Now, here me out. I know that politics are part in parcel to pop culture/current events and that’s how these award shows stay current or whatever. It’s a shared experience that connects us, the non-famous to the stars. I get it. I’m all for freedom of speech and I’m ALL FOR Meryl. I probably have mentioned it before, but I have a deal with my mom that if Meryl ever showed any interest in adopting me, I’m going. That being said, when Viola Davis (who looked amazing in that yellow gown) was introducing her and getting ready to hand her the Nelson Demille Lifetime Achievement Award and they played the montage of performances that made up mama Meryl’s illustrious career, I got a little ferklempt, to be honest. Finally, Viola Davis invites mom up to the stage and I’m so happy for her and I’m waiting to hear about how she loves what she does and she does it for the fans, etc. But, obviously, that’s not what happened. To sum up this ramble, I think what upsets me most is the backlash. My Facebook feed has turned into a Meryl Streep witchhunt. Speaking of, my feed has gotten so filled with vitriol from both sides that it’s really distracting and disheartening and pretty disgusting. Anyway, I just wish there was some sort of unwritten rule that at award shows, we stay on the topic at hand, which would be honoring the movies, music and/or television shows and the people who made them. Also, never let Jimmy Fallon host any award show again. #BringBackTinaAndAmy

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Worrying about: The heat at my first job has not been working for the last 3ish days. Tuesday was brutal. I sat in my coat all day, which thought of makes my skin crawl, and I was still frozen.(sidenote: i think this is illegal that my boss didn’t close the building and if it is, just let the record show that when the AC inevitably breaks in the middle of a heatwave and it’s 90 degrees outside and about 105 inside, she doesn’t close then either. #justsaying) Yesterday wasn’t too bad, but I also wore layers, which I never do since I’m usually warm. With that shock to the system and the weather being crazy (it’s supposed to be in the 60’s today. In JANUARY. IN NEW YORK. not that i’m complaining, though) and with both my roommates parents just getting over colds, I’m afraid I’m going to get kicked in the ass with a monster cold. And the fact that I haven’t gotten a flu shot yet is dancing in the back of my mind.

What have you been up to lately?

Let’s discuss!

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les incompétents

This is a quick, impromptu post. I’m trying a new approach to blogging, that being when I’m really riled up (good or bad) about something, I’m going to try my best to come on here and unload/celebrate. This probably won’t last too long, but it sounds good, right?

Today I’m unloading. I’m pissed. And it has nothing to do with the election. Apparently., my director has made some comments about me when I’m not at this job. I found out that she has called me incompetent and has questioned “how someone with a college degree doesn’t know to do XYZ” What is XYZ? Well, in this case, it seems to be not returning a folder to her office.

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Let me tell you something about my college degree. If you ask me, it is and has been TOTALLY wasted being here. Every time I try to do something the least bit out of the box, it gets rejected. I’ve applied for jobs all over this campus and all over this building. I could almost bet my next 15 paychecks that my big boss (the one over the Director) has put the kabosh on all of them. Not to mention, a job that I applied for and wasn’t even interviewed for because I didn’t have my Master’s (which is a whole other story), eventually went to the laziest, rudest, out of touch, moron I’ve ever met.

I know, I know. I sound bitter and maybe I am, but, jobs and interviews and all that crap aside, I am not incompetent. I am not stupid and I can run rings around both the Director and the Assistant Director. God, i sound cocky. i’m not, just trust me on this one.

Also, the folder did not get returned to her office because I was busy working an event, just like everyone else. When it was done, I was tired, just like everyone else. So I went home, just like everyone else. The only difference was that I had the next day off. It’s not my issue that you can’t handle the staff helping each other out by doing things like returning folders or whatever. NOT. MY. ISSUE.

Leave my degree out of this. It’s been through enough. Unless you want to pay for another one. That’s the one you can talk shit about.

Meanwhile, or maybe to prove my wasted degree point, I was asked to come in on my day off to prepare the department’s Christmas cards. Why? I’m the “only one” who knows how to do the labels. You know, make them straight and whatever.

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I opted to take them home and get them done, this way I don’t have to put on pants or brush my hair. win/win.

What’s irking you today? Sorry for the job rant. I really don’t like talking about this nonsense on here because 1)everybody hates their job sometimes, 2) everybody has that one co-worker/boss.

Let’s discuss!

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rant & ramble: you know what’s pissing me off lately?

Woah, third post this week.

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Get the butter because I’m on a roll! Today I’m here to talk about things that have been getting under my skin as of late. I was thinking that I should probably just start a series of these since I feel like I do them more often than not. Then I realized that I made a whole category dedicated to them already. I’m really not a miserable person, I promise. Anyway, I’m rantin’ and ramblin’ so hop on board!

You know what’s pissing me off?

-humble bragging, insta-bragging (whatever) about being engaged. You know the girl. Maybe you are the girl (in that case, no offense and congratulations!). The one who posts and “innocent” photo of their fresh manicure (!!) or their new coffee mug/smoothie cup (!!). Except their shiny new engagement ring is smack dab in the middle of the photo. like, hey, what’s up, hello. Also except that they’ve been engaged for like ever already. Is there a reason why everything is being held in/done with your left hand? I’m left handed and I don’t use mine as much as an engaged girl on Instagram. Obviously, I give a pass to the girls who just got engaged. Personally, my eyes don’t roll until about the 3-month mark. After that, eyes get rolled and teeth get sucked.  All of this being said, prepare yourself for when my time comes because if my 90-year-old, arthritic hands can still hold a phone to take a picture and post it, I’ll be hashtagging and posting the shit out of my left hand. #blessed #luckygirl

-people who treat receptionists like they are public enemy number one. Thanks to my new job, I am quickly learning that about 80% of our client base feel that it is totally OK and normal to treat me and talk to me like I am the stupidest person they have ever come across. Like I am on the same level as the gum on the bottom of their shoe. Like a flea on a rat.

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On Monday, the phone WOULD NOT STOP RINGING. I begged, I pleaded, I threw a $20 bill at it. I did everything I could think of, short of ripping it out of the wall, to get a moment’s peace so that I could handle the people in front of me. And yet, even with the shrill ring of the phone sounding every 30 seconds* and the exasperated look on my face, people still found it in their hearts to make me feel like they were the ones who were overwhelmed.

*not an exaggeration

-it’s been hot here in Brooklyn. Actually, not so much hot as it feels like Satan’s living room. It’s between 90 and 100 degrees every day with a humidity of about 5000%. The air conditioner in my room is old. High, Medium, Low knob kind of old. But, it still works well so, no big deal. My friend Slater (ba dum dum) has been showing his age lately by being super noisy. I sleep with my television on so noise usually doesn’t bother me, but it sounds like a rocket launch right next to my head. I guess the alternative is drowning in my own sweat, so I’ll just shut up now. Especially since soon enough it will be winter and I’ll be longing for the days of my screaming air conditioner. The Farmer’s Almanac is saying that this winter is going to be a doozy too so, I’m soaking it all in.

-my love life is abysmal. I know this, my friends and family know this, by now you know this. However, the universe is sending me signs from all over and then not following up. I’m a big believer in signs. Probably so much so that I’ll try to twist anything into meaning something. It’s another one of those quirky things I do that I’m hoping someone will find endearing and love me regardless. Anyway, for the past few weeks, I’ve seen names of boys I’ve liked all over the place, I saw my seventh grade crush on OKCupid (we were a 90% match.. i meaaaannnn…), and I bumped into someone I worked with at the seventh circle of hell. We were talking and catching up a little. I tried my hardest to flirt, which I am usually terrible at but I have to say I was doing holding my own. Without going into too much detail, the reason why he came in was because he had to pick up his paycheck. Payroll had gotten their wires crossed because he now works in a different department. So, I thought I was going to see him again the following week on payday, but when my supervisor went to pick up the checks, she returned his to payroll since she didn’t want the big boss to see it. Not know this was going to happen, I dolled myself up and walked into work like a dark haired Honey Boo Boo. I tried to play it so cool. When my supervisor came in with the checks, I was so excited. I had the breezy Facebook message all planned out. Then I find out that it won’t be necessary. Now I don’t know when I’ll see him again. Don’t mind me- I’m just in the corner, overthinking things, as usual.

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See what I mean? WHAT GIVES, UNIVERSE?!

What’s been pissing you off lately?

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love always wins

Even though I start posts like this the same way, every time – I wasn’t going to comment on the shooting in Orlando. Not because I don’t care or I don’t want it on my blog; I just couldn’t formulate words about it. A few days passed and news reports came in and now all I can do is think about it. I decided it’s better to get my thoughts out of my brain because I’ll go crazy if I don’t.

  • They say it’s best to “not live in fear” and to carry on as best as possible. I agree with that, to a certain extent. Except for some reason this time feels different. This time I’m terrified. I’ve always been a bit neurotic (…you don’t say) and until whatever was bothering me was over, there was always a feeling of “uh oh” in the back of my head. I never let it consume me and force me to not do something and I feel lucky that I am able to ignore it enough to carry on. This time is different because for some reason, it feels so close to home. Maybe because when the victims left their homes that night, all they wanted to do was have a good time. To live life. Maybe it was hearing the story of Eddie, who sent his mom texts from the bathroom that he was going to die. I can’t imagine, nor do I want to, sending my mom a text telling her that this is it; that I don’t think I’m making it out alive.
  • Facebook can scream and talk in circles about having/not having gun control and the government all it wants. All I’m going to say is this: Someone with no military background should not have access to MILITARY GRADE automatic rifles. I don’t care how many permits they have, what they do for a living, how much money they paid, that they promised their firstborn child. There is no reason for it. ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING REASON. Also, the second amendment was put into place to for landowners to protect their land against an attack, more specifically, if their slaves tried to start a revolt. It was a different time. Listen, I’m OK with people who know how to operate a gun, carrying a gun. I’m not 100% comfortable, but I won’t make an issue out of it. I know a lot of cops, retired and current, who carry their guns. The thing is that they also carry their permits, shields, whatever else they need that proves they are allowed to carry that gun. And none of them are strapping a rifle or semi-automatic anything to their back.

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  • I know I say it all the time, but it’s something I truly can’t understand. I was taught that you treat people with kindness and respect. You are not better than anyone else. You won’t agree with everyone’s thoughts and ideas and that’s fine but the same way they (should) allow you to think and feel and believe what you do, you should give them the same. I don’t understand how this is such a hard concept to grasp. Especially since once it was “OK” to hurt/ disrespect/ostracize people who are different, it hasn’t stopped. It’s so fucking tiring.
  • My heart goes out to the families/loved ones of the victims. I can’t even imagine what they’re going through right now. I can’t even think about the pain.
  • Have the bad guys never read a fairytale? Never tuned into one episode of One Upon a Time? Evil never wins. Hate never wins. Love conquers all. Good always triumphs. LOVE ALWAYS WINS.

On a happier note, and not really but sort of related, can we talk about the Tony’s? How perfect was James Corden? If he wasn’t already married…

#loveisloveisloveisloveislove

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single gal speaks: OKStupid

I am so glad I have a blog so that moments like the one I’m about to tell you won’t get lost in the cesspool of Facebook and so that I can rant and rave to my heart’s content and then (hopefully) incorporate the public at large into my conversation. I watch a lot of YouTube and read a lot of blogs and often wonder why everyone in the entire world doesn’t have one or the other. Then I realized what a nightmare that would be.

before i really get rolling, my easter was great; filled with family, food and the cutest little jellybean who celebrated for the first time. how was your holiday?

As evidenced in my last post, I’m not a stranger to the world of online dating. I’ve complained written about it here numerous times. It’s been, amongst other things, an all around funny, discouraging, and hopeful expericence. But listen to this shit.

On my way to Easter dinner on Sunday, I got a notification from OKCupid that I had recieved a message. There was traffic, as usual, so I figured I’d check it out. This is what I saw.

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Ummm..

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I was feeling sassy, so I wrote back.

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Honestly, I get a lot of comments on my weight on OKCupid, usually inappropriate in nature, so I ignore them. i’m not a fetish. I don’t know what made me answer. I just think my brain went to “that was just unnecessary”. And on this, the day of my Savior’s ascension. #rude.

He wasn’t feeling my sassiness, so here’s his response.

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Rocky J. Squirrel – I don’t need your “admiration” for putting myself on OKCupid, or any dating website, for that matter. I’ve never had a problem putting myself out there on dating websites, FYI. Did you expect me to thank you profusely and plead that we meet? Like you’re doing me a huge favor. What made you think it was OK to open with a line like that? You couldn’t have just said hello and introduced yourself? Then to get mad at me for not putting up with your shit? How am I supposed to know your level of sarcasm? If you found it necessary and appropriate to leave me a message about being “a very big person” on a website like this, don’t you think other people have had things to say? Things more along the lines of your second message? Which wasn’t so nice. Word to the wise, Rock, don’t open with a comment on someones looks. Unless it’s in person and you’re commenting how beautiful their eyes are. Which I have, by the way. BIG, BEAUTIFUL green eyes.

Did I jump the gun? I really don’t know. I’m probably taking it too far, but as I’ve had a little time to think about it, the question that keeps popping into my head is “Don’t I deserve love?” Comments like Rocky’s up there make me feel like people genuinely think it’s not OK for fat people to find love. Like it’s all a big joke. Like it’s OK to make assumptions, and comments without realizing or caring that there’s a real person on the recieving end of your message. I wrote about this on another one of my long forgotten blogs. It was when that Marie Claire article came out and the writer was talking about how she hated seeing fat people in love on TV and fat people in general. I think I’m getting a little off track here so I’ll just insert the relevant part of the post here:

Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t realize obese (or whatever word you prefer here) people don’t have feelings. My mistake. I must have been dreaming when I have meltdowns in the dressing room. I must have imagined feeling left out when I went shopping with friends and family who are skinnier than me. On the other side of the coin, I must have been wrong for being proud of myself when I received my college diploma. I probably shouldn’t get nervous or excited when possible employers start to call me for interviews for my first real big girl job. Above all, as the article points out I don’t have the right be to loved, or to be intimate (which doesn’t necessarily mean sex.) You’re right, only skinny people should feel these things.

Here’s the link, for a little more background/clarification.

I probably could have broken this blog into two; a funny one about Rocky J and then a more serious one about body image and the internet, but my thoughts got jumbled because I didn’t realize how strongly I felt. As much as I don’t care what people have to say about my body and how it is larger than perferred, it bothers me. Then it bothers me that I’m bothered. It’s a vicious circle.

I just know what I have to offer and my body type should have absolutely nothing to do with it. I’m funny and pretty and smart because I’m funny and pretty and smart. It’s really that simple. If you don’t want to give me a shot, it’s your loss.

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Harry loves me for me and that’s all that matters.

oh god. i hope i’m not coming off as conceited because believe me, it’s taking alot for me to keep “pretty” in there. i never refer to myself as pretty. maybe it’s some leftover sassiness, maybe i’m just growing up and realizing that it’s time to stop being so hard on myself. whatever it is, pretty is staying. 

Tell me what you think!

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RANT & RAMBLE: plus size shopping

I was scrolling through Facebook, as one does when they’re trying to escape the stresses of the office. I came across this article, which lists 5 challenges plus size shoppers encounter while trying to find clothes that are fashionable, affordable and to their unique style.

This article is SPOT. ON.

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As we all know, this blog is no stranger to my rants about plus size shopping and how it totally blows. I wasn’t going to say anything because 1) Alysse (from Ready to Stare) truly hit every nail dead on the head. And 2) I’m tired of it. I’m tired of complaining. I’m tired of complaining that I’m complaining. Tired, tired, tired. Maybe I just need a nap.

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I have been on the hunt for a dress for a very special occasion coming up this summer. Actually, let me backtrack. I have a dress for this affair that I am in love with. However, not one to settle and not one to make a decision, I have been on a modified hunt for something else. Just in case. Also, for the record, I’m not 100% thrilled with the color, so I was hoping to find something that didn’t wash me out so much. Anyway, after looking online and in all of my local malls, I decided that my next move would be to try the Macy’s on Fulton Street in Downtown Brooklyn. Basically, what that means is, it would be a bitch to drive to because of parking and traffic. Fortunately, the MTA goes that way so off on the bus I went. I got to Macy’s armed with some gift cards, my Mom (for moral support and a second set of eyes), and all the hope I could muster. We went straight to the plus size section, which was the biggest I’ve seen in a Macy’s. I was pretty excited. I need new clothes for Spring anyway so I was all over the section.

Maybe I should add now that the store is currently undergoing a multi-million (billion?) dollar renovation. So, naturally, it’s a bit of a hot mess. Honestly, though, it still worked. There was still a ton of merchandise on display; from a mixture of seasons. It was controlled chaos and I was fine with it. After I had looked through the selection for some spring/summer clothes, I figured I should buckle down and look for a dancy dress. I walked over to the area where the dresses were and was instantly disappointed. All of the fancy dresses were in winter mode. As I started to walk away defeated, I heard another customer ask the saleslady where the plus size evening wear was. She told her that all of that was on Level 2.

Going down.

I walked into the other dress department and immediately saw a dress that was too perfect for my event. We were soulmates. I flicked through the dresses to see how they were organizing the sizes, since there were plus sizes on this floor also. OR SO I THOUGHT.

I asked my mom if she saw any signs for plus sizes, or if she thought they would/could/might be mixed in with the straight sizes. After having a mini panic attack that I needed to find this dress (I was hot, tired and hungry – give me a break.), my mom asked another saleslady where the plus size dresses were. “They’re on Level 3, m’am.” Bewildered, my mom was going to tell her that we just came from Level 3 but I stopped her. “It’s not meant to be,” I whispered and too one last look at yet another lost love.

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Would it literally kill someone to say “Hey guys! Let’s make this in plus size!”? By the way, if you love this dress like I do (it’s sooo much prettier in person), click on the picture; it will take you straight to Macy’s and you could buy it. She deserves a loving home.

Thanks for listening to me rant again, friends!

What’s up with you?

Let’s discuss!

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Let’s chat: The Erin Andrews verdict

It’s International Women’s Day so this post couldn’t come at a better time. I’m sure by now you’ve heard about the Erin Andrews case/verdict.If you haven’t, the abridged version is that Erin Andrews, of sportscasting and Dancing with the Stars fame, was filmed, naked, in her hotel room by a man who was stalking her about 6 years ago. Yesterday, a jury granted her 55 million dollars for pain, suffering and a host of other things.

In it’s infinite wisdom, Twitter had much to say on this matter, I’m sure, but I only saw one thing and it was enough.

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First of all Cobi, SHUT UP. Second, what angered me about this tweet was that it came across my timeline because someone had re-tweeted it. That someone is a woman on an MTV show known for showcasing irresponsible teens turned mother of the year (No, it wasn’t Farrah.) I’m sure Erin (like we’re besties) would gladly give up every single cent of that money if it meant that this whole ordeal didn’t happen.

I watched a little of the news coverage on this case. I saw Erin sit on the stand and weep, trying to tell the judge and jury what happened and how she felt about it. When she was cross examined, the prosecutor implied that her star started to rise after this video was released. Almost accusatory. Yes, because women can only get ahead by planning elaborate schemes to be filmed naked and have that video leaked to the internet, where things NEVER DIE.

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Listen, I know that questions like that is par for the course in cases such as this. But, and yeah, I’m going to go there, show me one time a question like that was aimed at a man. In fairness, I didn’t do my homework before writing this so there might be, but I highly doubt it. I also read that the lawyer for the hotel said that their argument was not that she became famous because of the video, but that she didn’t suffer any serious mental injury because of it. While that may be true, I’m calling bullshit. In her testimony, she said she now obsessively checks her hotel rooms, peepholes, everything to make sure she’s not being filmed. This guy may not have caused “serious mental injury”, but that’s one hell of a mindfuck.

One summer, I was on the beach in New Jersey. It was later in the season so the flies were starting to make an appearance. It was torture. For the next few days, even though I knew there wasn’t a fly in my vicinity, I felt them all over my back and legs. I could only imagine what it feels like to think you’re being watched. And let’s not forget, most of the time, she’s in a hotel for a work assignment. It’s not like she can say to her network, “Sorry guys. I’m not going to be able to make it to the Superbowl this year. Could you send someone else?”

Another part of the case that I found interesting was that Erin’s stalker found out what room she was in (*raises eyebrow*) and asked to be put in the room next to her. Granted, her name was not as well known as it is today, but no one knew that she’s on TV? She’s a female sportscaster. I know she’s not the only one but she was definitely one of the first (that I’ve heard of, at least.) And, frankly, she’s damn good at her job.

International Women’s Day is supposed to be a day where women uplift, empower and support other women. So, for today, let’s think about what we’re tweeting or re-tweeting. Let’s think about how we talk to and about each other. Matter of fact, it’s March, which means that it’s Women’s History Month. Let’s just celebrate us the whole month!

i love your shoes and your makeup looks really pretty!

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just a little compliment, from me to you!

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