The Bitter Bitch Gives Thanks

It's that time of year again...where we all sit around the dinner table and tell people what un-selfish and non-superficial things in life we are thankful for. Because heaven forbid if we did that EVERY day.


So here it goes, a heartfelt thank you from the bottom of my heart...(yeah right.)

Wine: Where would I be without fermented grapes? Sober ...less enthusiastic...hanging out alone in my sweatpants. Just kidding, I drink in my sweats all the time, while listening to Dashboard Confessional or watching some sappy Grey’s Anatomy episode where something bad happens to Meredith. Oh wait, that is EVERY episode. But really my Pinot Grigio and Cabernet Sauvignon have played a major part my life this semester. Helping me through the weekends..oh okay and most weekdays. Somehow after one glass of wine..or 4 the world doesn’t piss me off so much. The bitter bitch might even hug you or make a sincere comment.  I cannot say the same for Chardonnay. That girl is a slut and I hope she casually slips down a moutain, falls into a river, and dissapears into the cold abyss.

Stilettos, Wedges, Pumps etc: Thank you to the man who decided that a women squeezing her feet into a pair of shoes that make her feel like her entire foot is being suffocated by an anaconda was a good idea. Not only does it provide us with a weapon against creeps but these things make our legs look thinner and longer. These shoes have the power to turn a grown man in the liquor store into a child as you peruse for your Skinny Girl Cocktails. They turn a dull boring outfit into that of a sex kitten ready to pounce on her prey. The only downside is they make it just a little difficult to run away. You will feel like you’ve run 2 miles when in reality your only 10 feet away and your boyfriend is standing there staring at you waiting for you to get tired and limp back.

Kissing: You know when you have been having the absolute worst day? Like you stepped in dog poop, fell down the stairs, failed a quiz, swore in front of a baby, and you have a spaghetti sauce ring around your lips? Then this stupid person holds your face, looks you in the eyes, and kisses you. And that’s it. Your skin starts buzzing and you want to smile but then you would ruin the kiss. The world sort of just stops. In that one little moment your mind goes quiet and that fact that your shoes smell and you feel like an utter failure doesn’t matter. But let me warn you all if you kiss someone for too long that might lead to feelings. I strongly discourage this type of behavior as in my years of wisdom this leads to a relationship that is undoubtedly doomed. Sorry I’m not sorry.

Molly O’Brion: Sometimes I might want to push her off a very small cliff but if anyone so much as even looks at her the wrong way my fangs come out. I once glared at one of her boyfriends in the hallway at school and to this day he still looks a little scared of me. She is my longest relationship (16 years) and counting! I can’t help but love her because she is OBSESSED with writing neatly, she once smacked her face off of a brick wall, and her dance moves and music preferences are all out horrendous. She also used to wear shoes like the spice girls and run around the playground in super high pigtails.  She has this great ability to find humor in the darkest of times, which is when it is the most important. She also plans to devote her life to the education of our future children. If that doesn't make you love her then you can go fuck yourself.

Boys: Gentleman, you are all relatively useless. But I am going to be stuck with one of you for my entire life one day so I am determined to be thankful.
The tall ones of you who can help me reach the wine glasses on the top shelf, you are like a heroic angel from heaven with your long arms.
Those of you who come to my rescue when I cannot open the pickle jar for the life of me, I am deeply appreciative. I will however still maintain that I loosened the cap for you.
Boys who give me free beer because I smiled and kissed you on the cheek. First of all you’re a sucker, second of all THANK YOU for the beer.
I am honestly trying to think of more things to be thankful for from you guys but I’m drawing a blank.

My Super Dysfunctional Family: I’m Italian. My family talks with their hands, their version of quiet is your version of yelling. We love garlic, basil, and tomatoes and our hearts are too big. We adopt animals at alarming rates, hate each other one minute and love another the next, we dance on table tops, promise our children ponies, and we can talk shit about our family all we want but if you even so much as make a small comment we will attack you like a pack of blood thirsty piranhas. Why? Because these are the people who pickup the phone at 2am when your crying your eyes out. They show up at all of your lame birthdays and make sure you wear proper clothing in the winter. They know every scar, favorite song, and weird habit. You're stuck with them. Get used to it and start appreciating it.

I'm sorry but these are not sweatpants. What is wrong with the world?

 Sweatpants: There is no greater creation than the elastic waist. For someone who struggles to wear pants on a daily basis sweatpants help to ease my trouble. It is pure bliss after a long day to slide into my UNH size large sweats (I bought a size up for extra comfort, I’m not REALLY a size large, STOP JUDGING ME). Guess what else I do? If I’ve over-indulged on dinner I pull them up just above my belly button to contain myself. I would be embarrassed but the sheer comfort of this act outweighs my shame. Can't wait to slip into a pair of these after Thanksgiving dinner...

The Bruins: Is that a 6 game winning streak we are on? Somewhere around 36ish goals? Despite the fact Seguin thinks it’s okay to grow a mustache I am completely in love with all of you. I wish I could express happiness and empty wine bottles these wins have brought me. THANK YOU.

Mascara: Some mornings I wakeup and I look in the mirror and it’s a scary sight. My hair is doing something strange, my nose ring hurts, and there are little goey/crusty things in the corners of my eyes. I tenderly refer to them as Eye Snot. Very appealing I know. I no longer wonder why I do not have a boyfriend, trust me. But with a quick splash of water and a couple of layers of mascara (a few more if I end up poking myself in the eye with the wand and have to take a break to wimper from the pain) but after that suddenly I have a decent looking set of eyes without eye snot. Mascara you are a god. Keep up the good work.

Bad Songs: You know that overly dramatic song skyscraper by Demi Lovato? What the fuck is going on? Why is she so upset, she’s at the beach. Sit down in a lawn chair hunny, have a pina colada and forget about being a skyscraper. That’s your problem. Your spending too much time wishing you were an inanimate object. Jesus Christ shutup, sit down, put on your bikini and stop whining. Without this song however, I would have no reason to be thankful for all the great songs that actually have meaning or a good beat.



All in all, the moral of the story is no matter how big or small there is always something to be thankful for. You just have to open your eyes and find the good. (Wait, that exists?)

Thank You (seriously, I still can't believe people read my blog.)

The Bitter Bitch

A Story about POT or not...

  Get ready kids, this is a good one.  *Note: I a posting this from a bus on my way to NYC via my blackberry, pictures and links will be up within the next week.

Another sidenote: THE BUS JUST BROKE DOWN! Awesome.

One time I decided to go visit my boyfriend (now an ex obviously, I'm a walking train wreck and the fact that we were two INCREDIBLY different people. Imagine a hippy and a business woman trying to date). Any who he went to college in Orono, ME aka where The University of Maine is. This was about a 2 hour drive from my hometown of Sopo (read awesome blog on sopo here).

Since I was 'so young' and the drive was 'so long' my mother strongly suggested I bring a friend with me. And by strongly suggested I mean I had no other choice. But my boyfriend was a little socially awkward so I really agreed a fun friend could only enhance the situation.

In addition to forcing me to bring a friend she also was determined my car would self destruct inspector gadget style within minutes of the 'really long journey'. My super sexy ford escort the vintage age of 1998 was banned from the roads of Northern Maine. I was to take her white suv. We switched cars at work (Hannaford, of course).

With Emily in the passenger seat and me at the wheel we hit the road (after a brief run in with a median strip in the Marshalls parking lot..I swear I didn't see it.) About 15 minutes into our voyage screaming at the top of our lungs to Pink's I'm not dead album Wendy calls. Her tone is frighteningly furious. (Anyone who knows my mom understands how freakin' scary she can be).

"Christina, I am in shock right now. I just cannot believe you"

"Uhhh...I'm sorry, what are you talking about..." (me extremely confused)

I'm thinking, she's probably disappointed that I hadn't vacuumed my car.

"I just cannot believe this...."

 Long pause.

"What the HELL are you talking about"

Now I'm seriously concerned.

"There is marijuana in your car!!!!"

 Cue me instantly laughing.

"Mom, I can assure you there is no marijuana in my car."

"CHRISTINA MARY!! Do not lie to me, I am looking right at it, it's still on the bud!'

Me laughing...

"...Mom I don't even know what that means..."

Meanwhile I'm seriously wondering how she knows this.

"Don't play dumb I'm staring at it, turn around you are not going Orono."

"Ok mom, I will turn around to prove to you that whatever you have found in my car is not weed"

So as I'm driving back...I'm starting to wonder if I smoke weed? Do I have a split personality who loves to get high and eat large amounts unhealthy snack foods? Am I unknowingly a psychotic pot head? Did that girl who hates me for stealing her boyfriend try to frame me? Government Conspiracy?

So I finally arrive at the gas station to meet my mom and get out of the car and into my sexy escy.

My mom shoves this crusty green thing in my face very assertively. As if she is Queen of Botany and I am a lowly gum shoe.

I take one look at it and stare at her in disbelief. I am utterly shocked. I can't even laugh because it isn't funny.

Why?

Because it's fucking dried up lettuce. My mom found dried up lettuce from a sandwich in my car and had me thinking I belonged in a mental institution or the government was setting me up. Over a piece of boston bibb lettuce.


Now put some Romaine in your pipe and smoke it.

xo Teen