Once Last Goodbye

At the college I went to, when you are a freshman, you are paired with senior mentor. The bond that you form with them is irreplaceable. So in honor of my “freshman” graduating this year, both is the senior narrative that I wrote. Hard to believe it was 4 years ago, but every last word of it is still true.

“I may not have enjoyed it all, but I’m grateful for the lessons that I learned, and the amazing friends I gained. To Papa: Thank you for reminding me that simple is all you need. To G-ma: Having a back bone is critical. To Granny: Thank you for teaching me what not to be. To Gail: Striving for perfection is never that far out of your reach. You just need to apply yourself. To Ma: Although it may hurt, brutal honesty is the best answer. To My Father: No matter what happens, I will always love you. To Beth: Thank you for not allowing me to settle for anything less. Word to your llama. To Jay: Thank you for being the Dad that I needed later in life. P.S. Don’t tell Beth about Hooters. To Sunshine: Laughter is key and there is a reason why God did not make us sisters. Remember, throw those hands up. To Wee: Never let anyone stand in the way of your dreams. To PR: My standards are high. P.S. To Holly: We will get what we want out of life. To Boot: Be strong and never leave your computer to bake in the sun. Haha. To Motherly: Your advice is the best. Do the dance! To Weebit: It still amazes me how two completely opposite people can get along so well. ATL. To Charlie: Thank you for the advice over the  years. It has gone further than you think. P.S. I taking Horus! To Brownie, Karbear, Jackie, Mr. Bear, HairSwoop, Baity, Zack, Mike, Fish, D-Ray, Jared, Chris, Blincoe, Timmy and Pope: Thank you for endless hours of laughter. Also, Chris, Thank you for baseball. To my closest friends: Remember what happened in Old Town/ NYC/ Tampa/ on “The Boat”, stays there. To my dykes: Abby, Anya and Hatley, you were the best, and even better you were 2007! To my co-dykes: I think we lived up to what our dykes wanted us to. To my Rat-Tie: Christopher, I could not have asked for a better Rat. Just think, we met when you were ready to leave, and I’m thankful you stayed. Make your dyke proud! Keep your head up and I’ll catch you on the flip side.”

Bros Before Hoes And Chicks Before Dicks

Remember how you use to interact with all your married/in a serious relationship friends, and now you don’t? I do. I have many friends that are currently married or in a serious relationship and we just don’t click like we use to. Let’s give examples.

1. We can start with GoldDigger and My Father. Now I realize that they are “family” (gag), but I do feel like the redheaded step child, which I’m ok with because they leave me alone for the most part. But it seems like since they have entered married life everything revolves around her family. All holidays are spent with her family. All vacations, her idea/her family. All Saturday evening plans, her family. It seems that nothing that My Father does is for himself. Sure he enjoys what he does but he is contributing no original thought to the situation. My Father and I have never really been close, but he has changed since marriage. From the way he dresses, to his hobbies, to taking vacations (he never use to take those). His change, although for the most part for the better, has driven him even further from me. We have nothing in common, build no new memories, and his continuous apologizing for the past while rubbing the future in my face has to stop.

2. Next, we have Mr. Bear. Oh lord where do I begin? Well Mr. Bear has a serious track record of finding a new girlfriend and literally spending every waking minute with her, ditching his friends for the most part, and doing any and everything that she wants to do. Currently, Mr. Bear has a newer girlfriend. He has been seeing her for about 7 or 8 weeks.

Now, let me back up just a second and explain how Mr. Bear is dick to his friends when he has a significant other. A few weeks ago Mr. Bear and PR attended a wedding of a close friend of theirs. The night of the wedding Mr. Bear got all wasty faced, per usual. His girl called. He said he’d call her back later in the evening. She got mad. (Crazy cunts.) Later on in the evening Mr. Bear did indeed call his girl back. He had had several glasses of wine and called his girl by PR’s actual name on the phone repeatedly. Naturally his girl got pissed. I can’t say I blame her really. I would have done the same thing. Whatever.

Moving on to Monday. PR had changed her Facebook profile picture to a photo of her and Mr. Bear. A really great photo of them really. Well this apparently did not sit well with all parties involved. PR was working in the hospital all day Monday and could not answer her phone. Mr. Bear called PR six times saying that it was important and she needed to call him back. So after she left work, mind you the last thing she did was watch one of her patients die, she called him. He proceeds to tell her, “She was a fucking idiot and what was she thinking changing the profile picture. Blah, blah, blah.” He continues to rant and rave saying, “How could she be so stupid to put her profile picture of her and him, and his girl is pissed, and what kind of person is PR.” PR counters with the logical response of “Are you serious? We’ve been best friends and I love you like brother, and she needs to understand that I’m not going to be some selective friend and only be there when it’s ok.” His response, “I love her. Whatever she says goes and if she doesn’t like you, then I can’t like you type of deal.” PR lost her nugget. “If he can’t have the balls to tell her to calm the fuck down, we are just friends type of deal, then he’s fucked up and she wants no part of his future.” Mr. Bear, “Have a good one.”

Do you see my point? Mr. Bear has been dating this girl for weeks, literally, and he has shit all over PR who has been his friend for years. I mean seriously, what the fuck dude?


Now, I will have to say that despite all the evidence listed above, I do have a few friends that are married or in a serious relationship and nothing has changed. I love and appreciate these friends more than they know for being themselves and balancing their relationships. If anything they have learned how to balance their relationships due to some of their own fuck ups in the past. So thank you Boot and her man, Mr. Breadstick and Ms. Ineedacheeseburger, and Romeo and Juliet, for being in relationships and not changing.


The bottom line of this post is just this, if you choose to be in a relationship, that’s all well and fine, but do not loose your friends and family over your significant other. No one is worth that and when that shit blows up in your face you’ll realize just how alone you really are.

We’re Adults. Why Is This So Hard?

Do you ever have those friendships that seem to be surrounded by conflict? Enough to where the two of you are butting heads and the only way it seems to be resolved is by one of you getting so angry that their head pops off? I feel like I have one of those with Mr. Bear.

Mr. Bear is an ex of mine, as we have reviewed before. Our relationship ended approximately 2 years ago and we decided to remain friends. But you see the problem is he doesn’t really understand the boundaries of what a friendship is. As an ex, I have enough respect for him to be politely and mindful of his current lady friend, who ever she may be. The way I see it is I have no right to be mad or jealous at her. She did nothing wrong, and our relationship with 2 years ago. I repeat 2 years ago. I am mature and confident enough in my self that it really shouldn’t matter what he does in his personal life, and it doesn’t.

What I take regard with is that he pesters the shit out of me with he either A-doesn’t have a lady friend, or B-I have a man friend. Let’s take example A. Mr. Bear breaks up with her current interest, and what does he do, call me. And I don’t mean call me in the “oh whoa is me” way. I mean call me in the booty call way. No thank you. I’ll pass. Calling (after I either don’t answer or hang up) turns to texting. Let’s review.

Mr. Bear: “How are you?”
Me: “Not bad. Been sick. Got a gnarly cough.”
Mr. Bear: “Oh. Sorry to hear that. I hope you feel better. You know if you came to (undisclosed location) I could make you feel better. 😉 ”
Me: “Um. I think I’m fine right here. I’ll be fine.”
Mr. Bear: “I bet I could think of a few things to make you feel better. ;)”

Seriously, I’m not biting and this conversation continued as such for a good 20 messages after this. At what point do I have to bluntly say, “Get the fuck off my nuts?!” Plus you know better than to ever trust anything that involves a winky face.

Now for example B. Say I causally mention a friend of mine that happens to be a male in conversation, for instance I say, “I’m going to see Mr. Greek on XYZ, blah, blah.” The rest of the conversation really doesn’t matter. Mr. Bear will say nothing. So you think “Ah. Yes. He finally isn’t going to be a dick about the situation.” Wrong. The next time we meet up, I kidd you not, the first words out of his mouth will be as follows:

Mr. Bear: “Hey Nelson. It’s good to see you. So how’s your new boyfriend, Mr. Greek?”
Me: (In my head, what the fuck dude!?! I never said he was my boyfriend, and why are we discussing this?) “He’s not my boyfriend, but he is doing well.”
Mr. Bear: “So how was your visit with Mr. Greek?”
Me: (In my head, is it really any of your fucking business? No.) “It went well. You know cooked dinner, hung out, had a good time.”
Mr. Bear: “Oh so are you like a thing now?”
Me: (In my head, are you fucking kidding me?! If I wanted you to know I would tell you myself. So fucking digging for information.) “No. Just friends. So, Sunshine…”

And heaven forbid I actually bring a guy around in his presence that I know and he doesn’t. Regardless of if I’m fucking him or not, Mr. Bear automatically assumes that I am. Thus, he proceeds to get very protective. It really pisses me off, and it’s not ok. How about you not spend your night attempting to separate my friends and I just so you can “talk” to me. I really don’t deal  well with drunken hands and sappy shit in general.

So given the situation, I’m about at my wit’s end with Mr. Bear. I would love to remain his friend, but I don’t think he has what it takes to be mine. I am respectful of all of his decisions and give him honest advice when he asks for it. As for him giving me the same amount of respect, he has failed to do it for 2 years. What really gets me is that we are adults and this shit really shouldn’t matter, but for some reason to him it does. Which is even more perplexing to me because he is, after all, the one that broke up with me. So if anything this situation should be the other way around. Good thing I’m a level-headed bitch.

That is until St. Patty’s. That’s when I next see him. Also, HairSwoop will be there apparently, so this will be a drunken pissed off night for me, or so I’m predicting. Iamsohip come save me!

Rate It

I found this chart on The Frisky a few months ago, and it honestly has changed how I reference men. It use to be “Oh he is so hot”, “Delicious”, etc., but now I can’t help but to scream with giggly joy “HE’S A UNICORN!” And boy when I do hit a unicorn, I keep hitting it. Repeatedly. Yum.

You see, I have hit at least 2  unicorns in my life, and you best believe I have proof. Mr. Soup, and Mr. Nelson. And yes, it really doesn’t get better than that. The first thing that qualifies them is their face. Gorgeous eyes, high cheek bones, and a smile that makes you want to jump him on the spot. Next, we have the body. Incredible genes. Solid, fit, and you know those arms can hold you tight, and hold you up. Three, for me it’s that he was a brain. Yes, you must be intelligent to some degree or I will not fuck you. If you can’t carry on a decent conversation beyond sports, beer, drunken adventures, how hot a girl is, and the size of your dick, I am not interested in becoming a jockey. Luckily, these two men have enough sense to carry on a conversation about something else with me. Four, your team player must be able to make the all-star team. If not, you’re fucked (figuratively of course). Five, have the balls to communicate with me. That’s were Mr. Nelson failed. No communication equals an extremely pissed off Nelson who really doesn’t give a shit how great the sex was.

Moving on.

Mr. Mosquito…He’s an iPhone. Even though it’s common, I’ll still show it off. Doesn’t quite make bragging rights, but it leaves me coming back for more. Just a point that even if you have a small package you can still work it enough to please a lady.

Pig, definitely a banana split. There were too many other issues that got in the way of great sex. Damn it. But it was good while it lasted (for a whole 2 years in case you were wondering).

Mr. Bear, Riding Coach. Not really sure what was so great about that whole relationship.

Mr. Slap, before he got into his slapping motions, he was a mere handheld fan. Something to attempt to keep you cool, but still fails at it pretty epically.

Finally, the Graham Cracker Express…Mr. Turkey Sandwich. We can thank drunken thoughts for this one.

Lost In The Sauce

I am what you would say lost in the sauce. The sauce of course being men and what the hell I should do with them. Let’s review the players below.

1. Mr. Mosquito- Still a viable option. He goes and comes but gets jealous when I hook up with other people. Not cool. It’s like he wants me but he does want me. Commitment issues dude.

2. Mr. Soup- Still a high candidate on the list. Minus the fact that he ignores me on occasion. Men equal lack of communication skills. Standard.

3. Mr. Bear- He won’t get off my nuts. I’ve tried everything under the sun and he is still standing on my branch. Irritating. How do I politely tell him to fuck off?

4. LNAYX- Don’t try to pronouce it. He is a new player to the game. Attractive. Great personality. Laid back yet has a plan. Communicates very very well. Seems into me. Then I facebook stalked him. He has a girlfriend. What the fuck dude!? Don’t like me and hit on me when you have a lady friend. Not cool.

5. Mr. Greek- Oh man I don’t know what to do with this one. I think I hurt him but not on purpose. I don’t want a relationship with him even though he is a great person. Makes me feel like an ass.

So the question is, what do I do with my players? Do I sit back and enjoy the game? Do I go after one of them hardcore? Or do I continue to play the field?

I feel like I have all of these options but no real direction. I think (or I hope rather) that other women feel like I do. I would like a companion. I know that I’m ready for one. I am rooted strong enough in myself that I know what I want and I want a mature relationship. But are most guys in their mid 20’s ready for that? I don’t think that they are but I also really don’t understand that either. Help.


Vacation Day 2. Before I even went to bed last night I knew that today was going to be uneventful. I had made no plans on purpose. Days like these give me a chance to think, which inherently for me is a horrible idea in and of itself. The day started off with Le Phrey (the dog) vomiting in her crate. Yes, the first sound of the day was not bird chirping or cows mooing, it was Phrey gaging herself. Unwillingly I dragged myself out of bed and deal with Phrey. Once she was looking so fresh and so clean, clean, and decided to practice my housebitch skills, also known as housewife skills. I slaved over a dirty floor and dusty counter-tops for two whole excruciating hours. Cleaning is not my go to thing unless I’m stressed, which I’m not. Thus, I thought a lot. I told myself a few stories. Dreamed of this or that. Made up dialogues of what it would be like for me and someone that I know to live in Africa and help small children. Blah blah blah. You get the picture. My daydreaming continued in the shower, through painting my nails, and into my nap. Once I awoke from my beauty sleep I had a few more ideas, and I few conclusions, but I decided to think some more. I was the thinking man right through shopping with my mother.

Then Mr. Delicious spoke to me. SHIT. Randomly out of the blue Mr. Delicious, yet again, intervenes in my life. Why? Because he feels like he can confide in me. For some reason a lot of people feel this way, which I’m not opposed to at all. I just don’t understand it. Nevertheless, always willing to lend an eye, I listened to his praises and his woes. Advice was offered, but I still can’t get out of my head why he picked me to get advice from.

This train of thought was interrupted by Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie in The Tourist. I was able to watch an ok film and give my mind a rest. Give it a chance to rest. But not the fret, as soon as the flick was over it was back to thinking. Here are the conclusions that I have come to over the course of the day:
1. I could be a high class paid escort, but not a stripper or pose for playboy.
2. I want a dog but not right now.
3. I’m going to declaw Lucy if she keeps picking at the furniture.
4. Mr. Soup was totally worth it and I’d do him again in a heartbeat.
5. I still can’t get the look Mr. Mosquito gave me in August out of my head.
6. Same goes for how Mr. Soup reacted Saturday morning.
7. I truly don’t understand why Sunshine relies on Mr. Bear and Mr. HairSwoop the way she does. They really aren’t good friends.
8. LadyFriend and I must go to Ireland, and get tattoos.
9. Mr. Boxer is a good friend to me and I trust him completely, which surprises me because I don’t trust anyone like that.
10. I judge my mother for things that I don’t understand and although it’s frustrating, it’s not my problem.
11. Same goes from my douchebag cousin and her thing of a man that I equate to road kill.
12. I don’t really, seriously feel a damn thing for my father. It’s more like a torn in my side. Although, I do think that I could feel something for him if it wasn’t for the GoldDigger and Company attachments he has.
13. I might try a new diet because I think it’s a good idea.
14. Coconut water is gross.
15. Mushrooms and ranch topped off my night.

I Earned My Nickname.

Ms. EatsPlentyOfCheeseburgers asked me recently to provide the background for all of my nicknames for people. After thinking about this some more, I think this may benefit a few others as well.

***Warning: If you are a male and you know me, you may not want to read this. (Hint. Hint. Mr. Boxer STOP READING!)***

Angel–Ex-boyfriend’s lady friend. She was such a sweetheart.
Grace Kelly–He got his nickname from Mad TV’s “Can I have your number”
Graham Cracker Express–His first name was graham and it just kinda stuck.
Granny–My hateful grandmother on my mother’s side.
HairSwoop–He has this thing he does with his hair. It’s like the Richmond comb over. We call it the hairswoop. It’s just bad, bad, bad, and he’ll be rocking that hairstyle for the rest of his life. Think a toned back Justin Bieber.
Juliet–Her and her boyfriend, Romeo, are tied together at the hip.
Mr. 8.5–You got this one already. 8.5 inches.
Mr. Bear–He has chest fur, not hair, FUR! It’s that thick. Plus, we think that if he gets on all fours, his ass would be about the size of a bear’s ass.
Mr. Breadstick–We got this lovely little nickname from the lack of what he was packing. It was a thin breadstick. One of the biggest disappointments of my life.
Mr. Delicious—Oh sweet jesusssss!!! He is gorgeous. Enough said.
Mr. Greek–Not exciting. He is from a greek family.
Mr. Mosquito–Once again, lacking in the packing. I believe my exact quote to my cousin that earned him this nickname was “If this doesn’t work out, I won’t be disappointed. I was thinking WTF is that, a mosquito bite on your leg!”
Mr. Nelson–His middle name is Nelson. Also where I got my nickname from.
Mr. NotSoHotItalian–Never been more let down in my life. His background was italian, but nothing about the way he looked was. Sadness.
Mr. Slap–He hit me. Only guy who ever has and he’s lucky he’s not dead.
Mr. Soup–He is so hot but the LAX team tells me he is a soupy, old man ass. GAHHH!
Ms. Granny–This would be another girlfriend of an ex. She was 27 I believe. Not old at all, but her mannerisms were that of grandma, or that of a freshman in high school. Based on the way she dressed, it tipped the scales to call her Ms. Granny versus CrazyBitch.
Ms. INeedACheeseburger–She thin, thin, thinnnnn. One of Spangler’s runners. She needs to eat!
Pig–I have never seen someone eat so much food in my life and stay so thin. He literally ate everything. Leftovers. GONE.
Romeo–See Juliet.
Sunshine–That’d be my cousin.

And for the most recent one that I referenced specifically at the beginning of this post, Mr. Boxer. It’s what it sounds like. He’s a boxer, along with being an athlete in several other sports.