I know my posts have been a bit delayed over the past few days. We can thank my grandmother for fucking up the computer 6 ways to Sunday for that.

Irritating. Real irritating.

Nevertheless, I am trying my best to make up what has been lacking. Here’s a quick update.

I started working for one of my father’s businesses on Monday. He asked for help. I wanted into the office on Monday and he basically dumped one of the companies in my lap and said fix it. Lovely right? I can feel the stress. If I fail it’s a million dollar corporation failing. No pressure.

At home, my grandmother has been driving me bat-shit crazy. She is in my business and frankly it’s none of her fucking business what I do. Furthermore, she insists on lecturing me. That shit realllyyyyy gets under my skin. I cannot stand to be lectured. If I want your fucking opinion I will ask for it. If not, do not be a condescending cunt and tell me what to do. In fact if you do that, you should expect me to ignore you for days, weeks really, and do exactly what you told me not to do. These are the times that I go by the “fuck off, eat shit, and die” motto of life in accordance with my dealings concerning you.

As you can see, I don’t take well to being governed. Therefore, I will be spending this weekend in Northern Virginia with some great friends and enjoying life.

(And I swear to God if I come home to my room fucked with I’m going to lose my shit.)

Evil Demons

Day 04: Something you have to forgive someone for.

Oh boy. There are so many things I need to forgive people for. I hold grudges like it’s my job. I know it’s never good for me, but I just can’t help it. You cross me and I will hate you forever. Never again will I allow you to be in a position that could hurt me.

However, I would say the biggest person/reason/situation that I need to forgive is my father.

I absolutely fucking hate that man, yet I love him at the same time. He is like poison in my blood, yet I can’t put it down and walk away. I am fond of him, yet if he dropped dead tomorrow I would feel little remorse for what has happened between us.

I hate him for being gone when I was a child. I hate him for not being a man when my parents divorced. I hate him for thinking that he needed to be at work more than at home. I hate that he never did anything with me that wasn’t work related. I hate that he smothered me. I hate that he choked the life out of my childhood. I hate that he took advantage of my innocence for his common need. I hate that he never grew up in some respects. I hate that he thought he could find answers at the bottom of a bottle. I hate that his communication skills are hypocritical. I hate that his love for other things is rooted in a falsehood. I hate that my suggestions are a moot point. I hate that he found a new family. I hate that he won’t leave me alone. I hate that I have to even touch him. I hate that I have to share a room or even an air space with him. I hate his very existence and connection with my life. He maybe be my father, but I absolutely loathe the fact that he tried to be my parent.


Yet I know that I need to forgive him for things, because it is not healthy for me to keep all this hate built up inside of me. It will tarnish my soul, and blacken my future.

As Mr. Boxer told me once, “You have some evil demons chasing you.” Yes. I do, and he is right. My father is one of my many demons. A demon which I need to rid myself.

So let’s wish for happy days and brighter skies of which I can release my burdens and be free to fly without watching my back.

One Thing After Another

Here are the basics.
I’m panicking about not having a job.
I got in a argument with my mother because I’m sick and tired of her asking me for money.
My replacement annoys the shit out of me.
I hate that I have to keep smiling when I’d rather just sit down and scream.
I’m lonely.
I’m tired of people taking advantage of me.
I do not care to repair the relationship with my father even though he seems to think it’s a notable cause.
I really just want to disappear, start over and get away from the leeches in my life.
All of this makes me feel utterly fucking worthless.
I just feel like everyone has their niche. I feel utterly lost in comparison.
It’s like a life crisis at 23 and that is absurd.

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.

A Letter To My Father

My Father,

To simply begin with I’d like to say that I love you. I love you very much, but at a distance. Being around you honestly makes my skin crawl most of the time. I do not have an undying need to see you, talk to you, or really acknowledge your presences. I am grateful for all the times that you were there for me and then things that you did for me. Putting a roof over my head, giving me a warm bed to sleep in, and purchasing my truck for me (out of guilt nonetheless).

But some of the things that you did for me, and to me, drove me away. You smothered me as a teenager. After the divorce, you were lonely and scared, which is completely normal. You, much like Ma, didn’t have the physical or emotional means to take care of yourself, much less me.  As a result of your unhappiness, I was ignored by you. The fatherly role ceased to exist. You closed in on yourself and shut everyone and every daily task out. You got lost in the bottle and in your thoughts. Thus, I fiend for myself.  I became an adult before I had to. I was independent and I was going to do whatever it took to be strong.

Once I gained my new-found independence and I learned that I was perfectly ok standing on my own two feet, I never, ever wanted help again. You were not my father. You were my housemate. I cooked, cleaned, and went about my business as usual.

My first rejection to you is when you wanted me to sleep in your bed because of the pending thunderstorms, which you knew I was absolutely terrified of. As a kid, I thought this was perfect sound. As an adult, no 12-year-old kid should be sleeping in their parents bed. I remember you wanting to “hug” me when we slept. Sorry, but you were wrong. That’s called spooning as adults, and I may I remind you that it’s not ok to say hi in the ways that you did. After I felt that something was wrong, I separated myself from the situation and suppressed as much of the memory as possible. It really honestly wasn’t until this past year that I realized I was 1 of 4. I had been violated in ways that I shouldn’t have been. At least it now explains a lot about how I feel and why I consistently fail at relationships.

The second reason I rejected you is because you never allowed me to breathe. Once I gained my independence, you decided it was time to try to be my parent again. Wrong. You stopped being my parent and I didn’t need you to start again. You were afraid of losing me, or me making a mistake. Well, one, you had already lost me. And, two, mistakes build character and they are good for your soul. Finally, if you thought that keeping me at home versus letting me go spend time with friends (which I actually had free time) was going to make me love you more, you are dead ass wrong. It made me hate you and I still do.

Finally, I don’t ever want you to pretend to be my father ever again. You are an acquaintance that I am required to go see once a year to make other people happy. You didn’t support me when I really needed you to, so don’t ever think for a second that I will lean on you again. You missed my high school and my college graduation and then gave me complete and utter bullshit excuses. I don’t need your drama or your bullshit. You lack of thought about “how your kids would feel” when you decided to propose, another mistake. I may not be around but you don’t ever expect me to be happy for you when you have made a rash, irresponsible decision. Especially one made when your father is on his death-bed. Furthermore, even though you don’t see it, your wife, GoldDigger, is just that, a gold digger. She’ll drain everything that you have and leave you in the end. Personally, you’re a sorry sack of blind shit if you don’t see that because everyone else does.

So before I sign off and bid my final farewell to you, you need to know two things. One, I love you. I do. But I can’t stand to be around you. Two, don’t ever try to be my parent again. It’s a failure waiting to happen. Three, if Ma knew about this, you’d be a dead man walking because I’ve got friends in low places, where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away, and I’ll be ok.


The daughter that you lost and you never even knew it.

The First Time I wrote a letter to my father (…and did not send it) Mr. H You will notice I’m not saying Dear Father/Dad because firstly you are not dear to me and secondly you do not warrant to be called my father. Being a father entails action and you certainly have not delivered in that respect. I have spent years thinking that I don’t really care that you were not in my life. Realistically I can see m … Read More

via My First Time

The Sex Talk From The Rents

I give my parents (mainly my mother) a huge pat on the back for the way they handled sex with me. Sure there were some scare tactics, but for the most part my mother was very blunt with me. I can’t remember how old I was but I do remember that my parents were divorced at the time and that my Granny was in Maryland. I remember walking into my mother’s room and blurring out some mature question about sex (completely intruding on whatever it was that my mother was doing of course). I can’t remember too much about what was said but I can tell you that Ma didn’t hide anything from me. She explained a lot and was blunt about it. There was no beating around the bush and she talked to me like a maturing kid.

Unfortunately, my father didn’t handle things in the same manner. First off, it’s awkward for a father to talk to a daughter about the subject. Secondly, my father is HORRIBLE at communication in general so the conversation and the timing of it was about 1,000 times worse than it should have been. On my 16th birthday, my father gave me some gifts. I can’t honestly tell you what they were but I do know that he gave me a box of condom. Can we spell awkward? I politely gave them back and told him that I didn’t need them. Then he started in with “that” conversation. I tired on more than one occasion to explain that we didn’t need to have this talk, and I was continuously ignored. Now at this age the only way I knew to get my dad’s undivided attention was to make him mad (which by the way still works). So, I proceed to cut him off mid sentence (not like I was really listening to the pain staking conversation anyways), and yelled at him “Hey! Ma already covered this subject years ago while you were too busy not paying attention.” Bingo. He shut up. Face got red, and then he yelled back. Standard form of communication for us really.

Regardless, the bottom line is it’s better to talk to your kids about it when they want to listen. Remember that please.

“Sex was sinful, bad, and something that must never be done or else God will punish you with a baby. Every guy is after sex. It’s all they want.” This is what my parents told me. They did everything possible to scare me away from sex. In a way, I thank them because unlike many girls, I waited for someone I could trust and depend on. Someone special. My first love. The first time I had sex, it was January 2, 2009. The first time I had sex wasn’t r … Read More