Filed under: Being Mere
This is the second time some dumb twat has used my email address to try to sign up on MySpace.
Why me? Why my email address? The one I have had for 11 years now? WHY?
My main goal in life is to remain MySpace free. This is all I want to accomplish in this go ’round. And these stupid teenagers are making it very very hard.
And to make it worse – she misspelled my name.
I have often been referred to as bitter by snarky men with small penises. (Ok, one had a rumored very large penis but for the sake of the story they had their own issues with women which I attribute to issues in bed). (Yes, I am 12).
I have always disagreed. I am not bitter, I am acerbic ($0.25 word!) towards men who want to play games and want a demure sweet woman to make all of their wishes come true (I have also learned this week I am a feminist, but that is a post for another day). I am a realist. But bitter implies I hate men, and truthfully I don’t. Bitter implies I am not happy with my life and usually that is not the case. Most days my life is pretty good – filled with cocktails and great friends and sometimes a random makeout.
This week, I am 100% bitter. Just not towards men. I am bitter towards life in general and specifically the mom.
I feel like it is my job to do everything with the business. She wants to know what a bulk rate stamp will cost us and looks at me. I put my head down because I AM BUSY cramming 5 days of work into 2 so I can attempt to make enough money in the next 3 weeks to make my car payment. I am bitter when she sends me an email asking me what time I am coming into the office today – only I am not coming into the office because I need to get my hair colored (cannot afford), and then cancel my haircut ($75+ tip), then pick up my drycleaning that has been there for a month, THEN go work for $15/hour, standing, so I can make that car payment.
I am bitter. Is it her fault? Maybe. Not totally. She cannot control the market, but she can control that she cannot do anything for herself (make a mailing label, create a postcard, find out how much a fucking bulk rate permit costs). She can control that she is leaving town AGAIN which for the record puts us at 3 or 4 vacations in the last 90 days AND two+ weeks off for her face surgery. Meanwhile, I can count the days off I have had in the same time period on one hand.
I am bitter because my backup plans in life have been blown up. I always had this idea in the back of my head that if the baby thing hits me hard at some point and I am single, I can do it myself. Looking at my current finances, I will be 40 before I am in a place where I can afford to take care of another person – and 40 is too old for me to have a kid. For some people it will work, but not me.
I am bitter because everything falls on me. She has another income (my dad). And I am grateful for the help they have given me this year, but what I really want is for her to bust her ass as I have been doing. I work all day long. I am ALWAYS thinking about real estate. Running at Bootcamp – thinking about real estate. Sitting at home – working on computer on real estate. Standing and stuffing envelopes at this part time gig – TOTALLY thinking about real estate. The only time I do not spend thinking about real estate is when I am drunk. So one night, every other week or so I get to let it all go. But the rest of the time, even when you think I am having a totally pleasant conversation with you, in the back of my head I am thinking about marketing and open houses and showings.
I have 60K in commissions sitting on the market right now. And I have buyers – buyers who will not buy that add up to at least another 50K. And I would like to say that is all good news – but the numbers have been pretty similar all year….and I have made less this year than that last job offer I got in SF.
So today I will own my bitter. I AM bitter.
(I wrote this awhile ago…but I still feel this way, so I will post)
Filed under: Being Mere
Just discovered the Chinese fast food joint next to my drycleaner offers 6 wontons for $1.25. Yummy.
Filed under: that damn internet
some french guy tries to talk to me on yahoo IM.
YEARS.
And I have never answered. I think I have blocked him and he changes his screen name.
Today:
Him: ya longtemp qu on se connai mais on se parle jamais (loose translation – longtime, but not speaking to one another or something equally lame)
Finally, I lost it:
me: for fucks sake, i do NOT speak french !!
him: i m not speak english
No shit, sport.
Butter: All I can say is 6 cocktails, free jello shots, tater tots, fried mozz and chicken nuggets = $32. Holy fuck, I love me some Butter!
The stamp on my hand says Juan. It keeps leaving marks on the inside of my other arm when I cross my arms from the chill in the room. 3 times I look down convinced I am spontaneously bruising.
One of the security guys has a porn ’stache, his hair slicked back and crazy eyes. I am fairly confident he is a serial killer.
The first band, a Motley Crue tribute band is not good, but they have half naked chicks on stage to look at, so we are entertained.
The second band, the Kiss cover band is so bad they suck the joy from our bodies. We are spent.
And then our friend’s Journey cover band comes on and rocks the freaking roof off. They are fantastic, and we wish Kiss had left us a little bit of our soul so we could fully enjoy it. The best part was the young 20-somethings that seem to know every word. They are more disturbing than the head of the Republican (national, California, bay area??) convention, wearing a horrible black and gold plaid wool blazer, who seems to be in love with our friend – the guy who we see at our local bar all the time – and cannot stop talking about him, ogling him, waving at him on stage.
I came home to an IM from an old boyfriend of sorts. He is in town and wants to meet up today. There will be much gossip there if we do get together, so keep your fingers crossed!
Filed under: that damn internet
I have 437 unread items on my google reader. Four hundred and thirty-seven.
Fuck me – working for a living sucks ass….can’t even keep up on the lives of strangers…is it even worth it?
Filed under: Being Mere
Thanksgiving? Over (and not half as bad as I predicted it would be)
Christmas tree? Up and ornamented. But not whorish like I usually like my trees – this one, the first time I used my fake tree is understated with only my favorite ornaments on display. I also added a timer that will turn the tree on at sunset and off 3 hours later.
Prominently displayed? Evil sock monkey ornament.
Christmas shopping? Done. Finito. Finished.
Filed under: Being Mere
The mom: And, my psychic powers are working again. Remember I took some zucchini bread over to J*** S****’s a few weeks ago? I just found out he passed away 10 days ago. His wife has been moved to a home. So, I need to get a sympathy card out to his son who does my taxes. How could I have known?
Me: Shit. Maybe he choked on the zucc bread.
Yesterday my favorite cat turned 4. And I did not even notice. I suck. I am the worst mother ever.
