Fashion is stupid. Exceedingly stupid.
Clothes for women are so impractical; either too short, too thin, too cutesy, too slutty, or too old-fashioned.
I can dress in a short skirt and be called a slut, only because I am showing off my legs (oh god no, not legs! that’s too damn sexy).
I can wear a cropped sweater and be called dumb because no sweaters are a normal length.
I can wear a professional blouse and freeze half of the day because it’s made from the thinnest materials available (why? people don’t want to see my nipples when I’m giving a presentation).
I can wear a moderate length skirt and get dirty looks for not dressing my age. (Oh god, now I’m not showing enough leg! Where will the madness end!)
Or I can wear a simple t-shirt with unicorns and rainbows on it and look like I’m an 8 year old girl (even though I pay taxes and vote).
There’s no winning unless you start wearing men’s clothing and then people judge you based on stereotypes of sexuality.
Like, what do you people want from women? We can’t be naked unless it’s on paper and we can’t wear practical clothing unless we’re crazy, old, lonely, cat ladies and we can’t wear 90% of clothing available without getting shit for it. So what do you want?
I hate when you go see a relative and they start pushing about your relationships (sometimes, the lack thereof).
I just celebrated 3 years of dating with my boyfriend. And we’re perfectly happy where we are right now; living together, raising pets, and just trying to make our way in the world.
But the number of looks I have seen in the last week when I tell them we’ve been together for three years. I swear, there is nothing more irritating than people giving me looks like I should be dropping hints that we need to get hitched.
I don’t have to drop hints. We’re adults that talk about our future together like adults and make big decisions together. I don’t need Auntie Nancy butting into our business and trying to push us in a direction we don’t feel comfortable taking as a couple (Auntie Nancy isn’t a real person, btw). I don’t care that everyone over 40 got married in their late teens/ early twenties, that’s not a feasible concept anymore, especially for work benefits, taxes, student loans debt and regular debt incurred just trying to live.
But the worst part of the nosy relative trying to drop hints? That you’re not involved in the relationship to begin with. You may be related to one party of the couple, and you could be their closest friend, but that doesn’t mean you have any form of say in what the couple decides is best for them. You don’t get to push your son into proposing because you think he should be settled down by 25, like you were. Hell, you probably don’t even really know what your relative wants from their relationship or from life. Maybe they want to travel the world before marrying, maybe they want to be well-off enough to be able to provide a house instead of an apartment to their new spouse, maybe they want to pay off their student loans so that they don’t wrangle their new spouse into helping them pay it off.
So when I get those looks from friends and family, I have to fight to bite my tongue lest I say something truly regretful. Because the last thing I want to talk about is how my marriage is failing because I married someone after 1 year, while still in the honeymoon stage of a relationship, and then realized that the person I am now married to and raising children with is not compatible with me. Oh wait…
Being the side ho in a relationship is rough.
Especially when your boyfriend is basically married to his jeep.
You know this kind of guy; his car gets more parts with each paycheck, he washes it every weekend (complete with waxing and full interior detailing), he kisses it goodnight, one funny sound and he’ll spend the next 24 hours worrying about it like his car is going to die… You know these guys.
But nobody talks about the side ho; the wives and girlfriends who put up with this nonsense. Who watch their men sitting in the driveway with their cars watching the sunset. Who have to plan their weekends around the car shows and races and ‘tune-ups’ (i call it that because nothing is getting tuned, it’s just the activity of a man standing in his driveway for 4 hours fiddling with parts on his car for no reason).
And then your man looks at you like you’re the crazy one when you say that this new car is alright, or when you only shrug about going to the racetrack this weekend.
I love my man, I really do, but I did not think I was getting into a polygamous relationship that involved a car.
And jeep guys are some of the worst ones out there.
I don’t know what it is about them, but dear god once a man gets bitten by the Mopar bug, he will drop your ass faster than slow wifi just to spend time with his jeep.
At least he’s not clingy.
Weddings are absolutely pointless in this day and age.
Maybe back in the day it was just an excuse to get the whole village together and party, but today?
I can go down to the court house with my chosen spouse and sign a marriage license. I could be married by lunch today if I had a consenting partner.
Yet this “traditional” way of celebrating a civil partnership by dropping thousands and thousands of dollars on a one-time event where the couple force their friends and families to jump through outrageous hoops (you’ve seen those bridezilla stories) just to show up to eat some food and get drunk in fancy clothing.
And that’s not even taking into account the couples where the families are ultra-controlling and try to make a dream wedding by their standards instead of what the couple wants.
Knowing exactly how my family will act if I ever decide to ‘settle down’, I’m eloping. Then my grandmother can’t criticize my dress, my parents can’t lament the bill they won’t even be paying, my spouse’s parents won’t have to gripe about the wedding theme/colors, and I won’t have to listen to my friends bitch and moan about how I didn’t pick them for my bridal party.
Of course, this doesn’t mean I haven’t picked out my wedding dress. You can’t elope without looking the part.
So there are only 24 hours in a day.
And as student, that means if you’re taking a full course load, you spend every minute of minute day studying and learning and paving the way for your future.
As a full-time worker, that means that 70% of your day is devoted to working and maintaining a house.
As both, that means you literally have no time for anything else in the world besides studying and working. No time for eating or sleeping or friends or family. And everyone and their mother say they work full-time and take full-course loads but they’re lying.
There is not enough time in the day to work 9 hours plus the approximate (read: low-end estimate) 1 hours both way commute, then adding the maybe 4 hours of on campus classes, plus the resulting hour of homework and an hour of studying for each class (let’s say 4 classes) that’s a total of 22 hours of your day. Every day.
Sure courses can differ on days and employers can be flexible with your work days but I did this. I was taking 5 classes and working 36 hours a week. It’s not sustainable, and I was even breaking even every month.
So, in short, I’m sick and tired of people saying they’ve done this and that and been where I’ve been. Cause you haven’t. You haven’t done shit like me.
Nothing pisses me off more than people who come to my work and are the rudest people imaginable. Nothing.
If I am trying to do my job and I’m in the way, there is a simple fucking phrase for that: Excuse me. Learn to use it. Because all you people that show up to a store and forget basic fucking manners, fuck you.
And fuck your parents, too, for raising a completely useless waste of space.
And if you’re a parent and you are treating people like this in front of your kids, fuck you. Because you are raising a kid now that will perpetuate the issue with the service industry of people being treated as less than because they are providing you with a service that you think is below you.
When you come in as a customer and yell at a minimum-wage employee for no reason other than you can and you feel that you are the Customer Who Is Always Right, you make me want to shove me boot up your ass and slap some sense into you.
When you come in and yell at my co-workers who are working their first jobs and are sweet kids who haven’t had to deal with your shit 24/7 for the last six years, I want to ban you from my place of business and tell you to go grow your own groceries in your compost-laden brain hole. Because they don’t deserve you disrupting their day and making them feel like shit over shit they can’t control.
And one of these days, I’m going to disregard my priorities and go OFF. Just you wait.
For those of you who want to know a little about me, I figured I would write down some basics for all of you out there to imagine about me while you think of your dream girl as you lie in bed, waiting to fall asleep.
I love dogs. A lot. More than people. I would kill a man just to pet a dog.
I love coffee. I once threatened an ex who wanted to go camping with me. I told him that I would castrate him if he spoke to me before I had coffee. I was not joking. He thought I was.
I am not here to make money. I am here to vent all my bullshit in a way that won’t ruin my personal relationships.
I am a great cook.
I make the best jokes. Will I ever tell them? Probably not. But they’re pretty damn good.
I am utterly bitter and horrible. Like a cup of black coffee, but while you may think it’s still warm enough to drink its actually room temperature and leaves a bad taste in your mouth because you were expecting hot and delicious not cold and disappointing.
In summary, I am cold, bitter, and disappointing. However, some people like this.
I’m so fucking tired of this positivity craze going on.
I’m sure that having these mindsets are backed by science and shit but…
It can’t be healthy to be happy all the time. Sometimes you hurt and you wanna cry and you’re mad, but trying to smile through the pain is like trying to ignore a broken ankle.
I don’t see how being happy all the time is good for your health and well being if all you’re doing is ignoring the bad shit to keep on smiling.
Sure, those fancy herbal teas and sunlight and self-care bullshit is good for you (it’s basic fucking healthcare to stay hydrated, clean, fed, and given fresh air and sun), but doing those things instead of seeking help for your issues or just giving yourself the time to process the bad is a bullshit mentality.
You can’t go through life living only in the light. You have to live through some of the dark, too.
But then again, with how fucked up the world is, why are we going to put on those positivity blinders to try to diminish the way the world is floundering? We should be as angry and negative and bitter as the people who wrecked the world and give them a taste of their own medicine that they’ve been handing down for years to all the post-millennial/gen-z kids.
And I’m sure someone is going to lose their minds over this, and try to justify it to me, but guess what? I don’t care. I wouldn’t be where I am without my bitter, angry ass and I’m sure you can think of a time or two where you didn’t just smile and nod through it.