Man Quotes: Worthy of Blogging

Because sometimes guys actually say something worthy of my praise and appreciation..

"We're the only species that literally does things that don't make any sense. Everything else does something because it serves a purpose. We'd rather do something to make someone think something else than actually do or tell them what we want. Very dumb."

What Women Want

What do women want? What a perplexing and over-whelming subject to tackle. Guys have been absolutely clueless about this since I don't know the dawn of time? I’ll let you in on a little secret. Most of the time we have no fucking clue what we want either. We mostly know what we don’t want.

However lucky for you I am going to try to dig deep down into my non-existent feelings and come up with a few general things that the ladies really do want. Besides an all black Range Rover, Christian Louboutins, and a REALLY big .....boat.

To Laugh...a lot: I’ve said it before “If you can make a girl laugh you can make her do anything”

I have found no exception to this rule (even myself). I’m not talking about giggling or those  excruciatingly painful fake laughs either. It’s the kind that makes it so she can’t breath, she snorts, and has to grab your leg for support because yes, you are bringing her to her knees (MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER A-HOLES) Really there is nothing better. We don’t want to sit in bed at night and talk about the GDP (please if you don’t know what this is google it, and never ask me out on a date.) We want you to make goofy faces and accents that make us want to sleep with you even more than we already want to. So don’t be afraid to make yourself look like an idiot, that again ONLY makes you more attractive (unless it’s the bad kind like trying to convince us butt-sex is romantic or making out with someone right in front of us...) Even then we’re going to have to laugh because who calls butt-sex romantic? Or says something like, well she went 90% so I was obligated to go 10%. Oh by the way that’s stolen from Hitch.

For you to understand that we are indeed “fucking crazy” but to never EVER think of calling us this. Only we can reference ourselves as “nuts”, “crazy”, or “psycho”. You, as the man who wants to be with us better freakin' love us for our random rants about the stupidity of people who do not put their blinker on before turning
                                            (SERIOUSLY WHAT IS YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM DID YOU NOT

TAKE DRIVERS ED? HAVE YOU NEVER OPERATED A VEHICLE BEFORE!?) or how we freak out and jump in the air with excitement, even “attempting” to do the moonwalk when something really good happens. On the other end of the spectrum we reserve the right to crawl into the fetal position and sob uncontrollably when our day goes absolutely terrible. Please bring us tissues, some tylenol, water, and lots of kisses when this happens. If you don’t think you can handle any of this or all of this you should probably no longer date women.

Attention: JESUS CHRIST JUST TELL ME YOU THINK I’M PRETTY. How many times do I have to smile affectionately or lean over in this v-neck with this uncomfortable over-priced Victoria’s Secret bra. How about you complement my incredibly smart comment on the basketball game that I’ve been waiting to use for a week or how I seem to know everything about the Tyrannosaurus Rex? Please don’t make me beg for it. Wanna know a real killer move? Look in our eyes, putting that annoying piece of hair that always seems to fall in our face behind our ear, looking into our eyes, and kiss us. Dear god, that is the epidimey of attention. Please feel free to throw pillows at us, tickle us, and annoyingly poke us...until we get “fake mad” as well.

  
At least one John Cusack worthy life moment: You know how he puts the radio over his head below the girls window to express his undying love for her? I think every girl has their own version of this moment in their life. I will let you in on mine and then deny that I ever said it.

It’s a really crappy rainy day (yet somehow my hair still looks amazing, full of life, and is repelling water) but in reality I am soaked to the bone because of course I didn’t know it was going to rain and I wore neither a jacket or brought an umbrella, there are grocery bags in my hands and I am beyond frustrated because I had to go back into the store 3 times after forgetting the necessary items for a new recipe I have been dying to make. I am pissed off because some bonehead I am dating has been jerking me around for several months with his inability to commit when all of a sudden as I’m frantically trying to find my house keys (getting them while in the car clearly was too smart of a decision) and I look up to my super stud-ly handsome, looks great in the rain, man person to whom I really want to punch in the face is standing there in the rain  (with an umbrella because he KNOWS I don’t check the weather). He drops said umbrella and I’m standing there awkwardly holding my groceries..he of course takes them from my hands and gently places them on the ground..only to then grab my face with his hands and give me a kiss worthy of making my me wet my pants. (I’ll just let that one sit). No need for words here, the kiss says it enough, oh and the fact that I look like a drowned muskrat  with mascara running down her face and he still wants to touch me is just the icing on the cake.

For you to have your FUCKING shit together: There are two forms of this BTW

 1.There is nothing we hate more than being jerked around or waiting around for you to figure out what you what. If you have no idea what you want please don’t drag us around aimlessly with you like some security blanket. Sure we would love to help you make life decisions, weigh in on the things your not sure of. But if your changing your mind about us from one week to the next just do everyone a favor and cut the chord.

Ladies, if he isn't returning the warmth, toss ice on his balls.

2. If you are constantly broke, don’t have a car, can’t seem to ever do your own laundry, the place in which you reside looks like an atomic bomb went off in it and we are afraid to pee in your bathroom, your idea of a home-cooked meal is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on some stale bread and some jelly you stole from your roommate, you get obscenely drunk every weekend and either get in a fight, wet yourself, or act like a complete douche bag towards us then guess what YOU DON’T HAVE IT TOGETHER and it is time for us to say buh bye. Or call him and play this song on his Voicemail.

 THE BIG KAHUNA: Security/Love
Now I know everyone thinks I am an extremely heartless person (please have a chat with my best friends and you will realize that is totally not the case).

 I just understand the difference between “OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BABY!!!” and “I will always be here for you even when I want to punch you in the face and you make it incredibly difficult or something terribly bad happens like you get cancer or we file for bankruptcy”. Love is not sunshine and rainbows. It is an everyday compromise that you and another person make because you couldn’t imagine making those tough decisions with anyone else. Well ya know the ever-lasting kind. There are plenty of other kinds that are really great and really fun, but I’m pretty sure that the aforementioned is the only kind that can last a lifetime and the whole entire reason why we get so damn frustrated about this topic in the first place.Enough about that...

Let’s be real. Women are no picnic. No day at the sun-shiney beach...what we really want it to know that you’re there for us. That even though we are incredibly strong independent people you still want to protect us from the bad in the world...even if it’s in the form of a super scary eight legged creature in which is causing us to take refuge on the living room coffee table. We want you to feel a little over-protective when someone says something terrible about us or some guy hits on us right in front of you! We want to know when you are not in bed with us that you are going to bed ALONE (as in WITHOUT anyone else) and we want to be sure of that. No doubts whatsoever that Selena the Slut isn’t paying you a little visit at 2am. That’s security.

So there you have it. What women REALLY want from you. Yes it’s a lot to ask for. But so is the fact that we will bear your children and remember your mom’s birthday even though we can’t stand her?


Peace, Love, and Oreos!


Sincerely,

Jaded and Faded

It's completely and totally okay if...

You know when you beat yourself up about things...well you know what...

It's okay if you've been using your roommates conditioner for the past two days because you keep forgetting to buy your own.

It's okay if you complain about not getting dates and when people actually ask you out on them you deny deny deny.

It's okay if you confuse Harriet Tubman with Rosa parks in an attempt at making a witty historical comment.

It's okay if you run the red light because you looked both ways and didn't see a cop. At least you were safe.

It's okay if you ate a candy bar on the way home before dinner. Especially if you don't tell anyone about it.

Seriously, he was smart, rich, and well spoken...

It's okay if you wish you were Steve Jobs...or that you married him.

It's okay if you reward bad behavior with kind deeds.

It's okay if you consider your yoga pants to be your "sexy pants" and seriously consider wearing them to the bar.

It's okay if you had a LITTLE too much fun on the stripper pole last weekend.

It's okay if you made-out with more than one person last weekend too.

It's okay if you spend your Thursday night on the couch or in the library instead of at the bar.

It's okay if you crop dusted all of Walmart one especially gassy afternoon.

It's okay if you eat pizza for breakfast...that you left out overnight and may or may not have poured beer on last night.

It's okay if you feel like an absolute noob at the gym and have no idea what the fuck any of those machines are fore (oh, wait, maybe that's just me)

It's okay if you eat the cake batter, cookie dough, brownie mix...raw eggs and all.

It's okay if you think "Follow Friday" on twitter is "Fun Friday" or "Funnel Friday". Common misconception.

It's okay that whenever you see a guy who is really good with kids your heart melts a little.

It's okay that you can barely keep your bamboo plant alive and one day you may produce children.


 Feeling pretty zen tonight.

So Peace. Love. & Go Fuck Yourself <3

It's V-Day not D-Day

So I bet everyone is expecting a super angry man bashing post where I’m obsessively drinking my wine with my sweatpants up to my sports bra while wearing an over-sized t shirt crying into a tub of Ben and Jerry. Well first of all I would never cry into a tub of Ben and Jerry because that would ruin the delicious taste of the ice-cream.

Long hair, don't care.

Secondly, I’m actually allergic to dairy products (which in all honesty doesn’t stop me). Well, being the stubborn bitter bitch I am, I abso-FUCKING-lutely refuse to be the stereo-typical single betch on Valentine’s Day. So Valentine’s Day isn’t your favorite holiday...who gives a fuck? So your single? Oh boohoo.

I’ve got far bigger fish to fry than to sit around moping about how no one care about me enough to take me out to dinner, buy me roses, and expects me to go home and sleep with them in some over priced lingerie.  HOW ORIGINAL.

Plus there are a lot of people out there who really do care about you. So what if it’s your mom. That lady gave birth to you. She picked you up when you fell off your bike and made sure you had new clothes every school year. That’s far better than some lame Russell Stovers chocolate that you take one bite out of and casually spit it out because it taste like cough syrup.

So much cuter than that photo of you and your boyfriend making out.

Oh and your friends. The kind of people who text dumb boys calling them “douches” for you or buy you “BEST FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS” Valentines day cards. MAYBE they even send you an entire POUND of chocolate in the mail..if you're lucky!

So they can’t feel you up or put their tongue in your mouth (well, depending on who your friends are). But they do know all your strange habits, amazing talents, and every dumb decision you made last weekend. Even better, they love you anyway. I think that kind of love and support is a bit more deep and meaningful than some over-priced dinner with someone who probably pisses you off more than they make you happy.

Yes, I am getting a lap dance from Tommy Thundah.

Your pet also cares about you. Granted they have no choice because you provide the food, water, and belly rubs. Sometimes I prefer to snuggle with my blind dog, who barely recognized me, and wets himself over a guy because he’s been in my life for 16 years WHICH  is far longer than any romantic relationship I will ever have...and he probably isn’t going to make it to 17. Must cherish his snoring and obsessive barking. He also used to out-run me and ALWAYS be wherever I was walking when I was little inevitably tripping me while I had a drink in my hand causing me to go ass over tea kettle while chocolate milk rained down on me. Those are precious memories.

WHAT a handsome little devil.

Being alone isn’t all that awful. Sometimes there’s nothing better than to take up the entire bed while praying you dream about Ryan Goslings perfectly chiseled body....on yours. Or for the guys who actually read this blog Adrianna Lima...(god is there anything wrong with that girl?)



Happy Valentine's Day and Stuff.

If you do something ridiculous...I will blog about you

For those of you who play a part in my day to day life it is no secret to you that most of my blogs are inspired by :

A. The outlandish and overwhelmingly ridiculous things that happen in my life
B. The equally as insane and mouth-gaping wide open in astonishment occurrences in my friends lives. (My friends now call me to challenge my horror stories with their own..which is great because misery abso-FUCKING-lutely loves company.
C. Or something incredibly random that pops into my head while I am blaring Beyonce "Best I never Had" and singing with my Starbucks coffee up as my microphone only to look over and see the man in the 18 wheeler pointing at me while laughing hysterically. Glad I could make your day sir. I perform every Monday and Wednesday at 9:30am and 2pm from the Portsmouth to Dover exits in New Hampshire. Next weeks performance will include Kelly Clarkson's "Stronger", please don't judge me when I miss those high notes...I'm a blogger not a professional singer..despite the fact I practiced in my bedroom with my hairbrush in my underwear all week.


So here is an A story:
Everywhere I go something weird happens. A normal day in my life doesn't exist.

A couple of my friends and I toured the Redhook Brewery yesterday. I found myself at the bar (woah BIG surprise there) as we had an hour wait before the tour and I needed to drink to make that hour of being around food that I couldn't eat a bit more bearable.

I am salivating at the thought of this wondrous confection.

The tour eventually began and I could barely listen to all the information about hops, pulping the beer, something about fermentation, and the difference between a lager and an ale.  I just wanted some more beer. Then he started talking about JELLY BEANS which immediately caught my attention. There is only one kind of jelly bean I like  which is funny, because I mentioned it in How to Not be an Asshole just that day. It is the super tasty-licious buttered popcorn flavored jelly bean.

Apparently most people in the world find this jelly bean to be horrendously disgusting! Something about some chemical that doesn't flow right with your palate. HEY WAIT! This man just insulted my palate!

While my choices in men are NOT EXACTLY STUPENDOUS..and my friends taunt me about this on a daily basis my palate IS COMPLETELY FINE. I am a GREAT judge of delicious cuisine, you barbaric periodic table loving tour guide man!  Anyway I proceed to stand up for my favorite sugared bean and then ask him where his favorite bar is. I mean, I've been drinking a little, maybe a high school chemistry teacher is JUST what I need in my life. I go on to make some innapropriate jokes about Nut Brown Ale, take my souvenir tasting glass home with me, eat a steak burrito, take a nap, and get back up to go to the bars.

Of course some guys walk in...and I look at my friend, "Oh he's kind of hot!"..."Teen, they were on the Redhook tour with us today" ..."Really..maybe that's why he looked familiar" I am terrible with names/faces/caring about any man in general so it wasn't a big surprise I didn't remember them. Eventually we walk by them at the bar and one of them grabs me and begins screaming, "REDHOOK OMG IT'S REDHOOOOOOOOOOK!...GUYS, LETS DO SHOTS, REDHOOOOOOK YOU ARE BADASS!!!"

I am a celebrity!!!!! At a seedy college bar with some drunk fuck offering to buy me drinks. I would have been REALLY excited if I wasn't stone cold sober and FILLED to the tippy top of my tummy with digesting burrito-goodness.....or if I gave a flying rooster about drunk guys at the bar trying to get some.

Any who he proceeded to buy three rounds of shots in which I politely declined...and he still bought. He is incredibly friendly too. By "friendly" I mean he keeps showing me how everyone keeps bumping into him at the bar by rubbing his hands up my crotch and ass only to stop at my boobs. Yes, I am sure that 6' 5" 250lb football player just molested your junk and pinched your bum. Why stop at just before my boobs, you've already sexually harassed me 3 times...clearly there are no boundaries, just go for the whole she-bang buddy, this is the most attention I've had in weeks.

Tom also lets me stick my finger in his mouth.

Then my friend gets the bright idea to suggest that I am not drinking because I am afraid of being roofied. To ease my "fears" before I even know what is happening Glen (yes that was his name) decides to grab my face, tilt my head back open my mouth with his fingers and attempt to pour his "roofied" drink into my mouth. I AM NOT KIDDING. I was literally in shock. No one has ever tried to stick their hands in my mouth at a bar before. (Well besides Tom but he has earned that privilege by letting me crawl into his bed pants-less at 6am when I'm sad, lost, wearing a tiara, and hungover. ) He then went on to continue to grope me, tell me he loved me profusely, attempt to throw his gum in a cup, struggle to get off a bar stool, and before I left for the night I received a marriage proposal and an attempt to make out with me...which I cleverly dodged by swirling my head into his chest like a fighting bull.

Why do I need a boyfriend when I can go to the bar and be drunkenly harassed by strangers. Seriously, it's just the greatest.

But in all honesty is there some sort of sign on my forehead that beckons these men to me? What the hell am I doing wrong here? SOMEONE send reinforcements! Everyone wonders why I prefer to sit on my couch in my sweatpants with a bottle of wine and Greys Anatomy.

I can't imagine why no one normal ever finds me...

Lots of excitement and happiness per usual,

Teen

A Big Heartfelt Birthday Thank You

I am going to regret being nice...I just know it.


Those of you who know me understand that I have a hard time expressing my emotions. Well not anger, hatred, and surly behavior but the nice ones. In the spirit of my birthday I wanted to take a moment out of my evil thoughts to thank everyone who helped to make my birthday (fake birthday and real) a super happy go lucky, dance in my tiara, fall to the pavement, eat lots of red velvet cake, drink galore, super-exciting and overwhelmingly amazing experience.

That's me..making a heart with my hands...or trying at least.

This past year was insanely difficult for me. I experienced heartbreak (you all wonder what made me so terribly pissed off at men), mentally and physically demanding college courses, loss of a family member as well as a friend, a demanding work schedule, and some incredibly shitty hangovers...

(In which I actually prayed to God ((any and all religious figures actually)) that if they were to just end my hangover that INSTANT I would forever be a devout follower of them and NEVER take another sip of the pukey punch of booze again) Don't act like you haven't done that either. You're all guilty.

Anyway, for a while there I was REALLY freakin' lost. Why do shitty things keep happening? What is wrong with this world? Will I ever get a chance to come up for air? I felt like I was constantly being smacked in the back of the head and tackled into the water by ginormous waves. Sometimes it's hard to admit too. I was stubborn. I didn't want to admit that I was literally barely making it up for air.

I think I was somewhere about 2/3 of a way down a skinny girl margarita this August when I felt another wave coming. If any of you know me I'm not really the type of person who lets the ocean of life consume her. I'm a little to busy kicking it right smack in the balls with my stilettos. So guess what!? I decided to finally fight back. Which, I am going to encourage anybody who might find themselves in this position to do. Stand up, look that fucking wave right in the eye and don't let it take you down. Smile at the wave, make friends with those next to you being beaten by the ocean as well. Lean on some shoulders for support, kiss a couple of fishies that happen to philander on by, hell hop on a boat and laugh in the face of the wave.

Shitty things happen to everyone. Life's a bitch, be a bigger, better, stronger one.

Once I started to do this it became a lot more clear to me that the amazing people, opportunities, and education I have been given out-weighed these incredibly crazy and unkind things that kept happening.

That even if bad things continue to happen I had this lovely little support system of people. People who make me laugh, who snuggle like champions, who pour me another glass of wine, who hug like they mean it, who appreciate a good Bruins win, who do things without asking for anything in return, who can carry on a conversation of purely sexual innuendos, those who work hard for the things they have and appreciate them as well. Those people... family and friends really helped me to beat the living daylight out of those infuriating waves.

Ugh, kicking ass is SO exhausting.

So thank you...to everyone. SERIOUSLY. After I write this I am going to completely black it out and claim I never said any of this.


Special thanks go out to my mom (WENDEL), dad (cupcake), my brother, sister-in-law, Little Rocco, Stephanie Masters, Molly O'Brion, Tom Biskup, Chelsea Leishman, Emily Ballard, Anna Lyke, Aaron Harvey, and every guy I've kissed since...July (wait, boys kiss bitter, evil bitches)?!


Lots of Love (just this once),
Teen

Why Marriage is a HORRIBLE Idea

Think about it people...should we really participate in some outdated and overpriced ritual in which fails just as often as it succeeds? How many of those that succeed are ACTUALLY still happy or just pretending to be due to children, financial assets, or some strange belief that removing yourself from an unhappy situation is a considered failure?

So here it is...Seven Incredibly factual and well-researched reasons as to why NO ONE should ever get married.

1. Why sacrifice the adoration of many for the criticism for one?

Gentleman I feel you can agree with me the best on this one.

"Are you going to wear that un-ironed shirt out to dinner?"

"Did you empty the trash"

"Can you put the seat down after you pee?"

"Will you please stop trying to have sex with me!?"

We nag. That's what we do. We will constantly be asking you to fix something for us and then complain that you did it wrong even though we sat on the couch drinking pinot noir while you worked your ass off.

2. You will become boring
Remember when your relationship first began and you could talk to each other for hours on end about the most random bullshit? Well now you have all this shit you HAVE to talk about but you don't really want to. Like if you paid the mortgage that month, how many kids you want to shove out of your vajayjay, and what you will eat for dinner that week. Riveting stuff. All of that stuff if you were single you could just get done without having to consult someone else. Babies? Shit, just hit the sperm bank, Mortgages, fuck that you already paid for your house after saving all that money from not having to buy Christmas gifts, dinner, Engagement Rings, a matching bedroom set! Dinner, uh excuse me you go to the grocery store that night and pickup whatever you want...even if it's a a chocolate pudding cup and a can of pringles.

3. You want to make a decision, think AGAIN!

Whether its buying a new car or a pair of socks. It is no longer just your money. That is now called "our money". Ever heard the saying, "What's mine is mine, and what's yours is mine". I think women obide by this. Especially when we eat 75% of your dessert off your plate and punch you in the face when you step near our choocolate stash.

But seriously, that money is now shared. Now, I'm a good sharer..(when I was little I had a teeny tiny biting problem but we've since cleared that up)

Now, I would have a hard time since I most likely will be the main breadwinner in my future unsuccessful marriage if I got home and my husband bought a snowmobile without asking me. Now I can't be all, "LISTEN DUMBASS, I MAKE THE DOUGH, I SPEND IT!" because now I am in a mutual partnership in which I promised to love someone and take care of them...and verbally abusing them PROBABLY isn't the best way to get my point across.

So instead we have to sit down and have a talk about what we want to spend our money on for the next 3 years and develop some retarded life plan. Even worse, if I want a $300 dollar pair of shoes I am going to have to think "Is it okay to feed my children spam all week or should I go buy off the sale rack at TJ MAXX ?" UGH, see MARRIAGE IS ONE GIANT SACRIFICE OF BEAUTIFUL SHOES AND OUTDOOR TOYS!


4. It will make you fat
You know how they call it the "boyfriend layer" when your in a nice little relationship and you suddenly pack on 10 pounds. Well welcome to marriage. Except it's like 15-20. Think about it, you're so comfortable with this person you have decided to live with them for the rest of your ENTIRE existence on this planet! The first year there's so much celebrating it's hard not to get a little chubby. Engagement parties, rehearsal dinners, wedding cake, honey moons. Then there's kids (I thought I had this on lock because my mother is a freak of nature who mysteriously cannot gain weight but the other side of my gene pool is Italian and well...we struggle with the pasta okay!)

Kid's make the women fat because she's trying to eat for two at every meal and then poor dad over there is watching mom blow up like a balloon and is eating himself to death because 1. his wife is getting fat 2. there is a screaming monster on the way. It doesn't get any better either because children will not take up ALL of your time. You thought you were going to go to the gym this morning? Well little Frankie had another idea, he is going to crayon the wall and vomit in your hair. Goodluck having any motivation to exercise with all that bullshit going on.

5.  Minivans
 I am pretty sure the second you say "I DO-OMED" your chances of one day owning a mini-van QUADRUPLE. Look, even my dad had a van. In fact, he had two. Chances are you're going to end up needing it for the 4 little spawns of satan you produced.

I can hear myself now, "Steph, you gotta see this thing, the doors are automatic, the chairs fold down so I can put the dogs in the back..and GUESS WHAT, it came with a lifetime stain warranty!!!".

Uh, I'm sorry what happened to my dream of owning a blacked out range rover and mercedes coupe?

6. Men are stupid & Women are CRAZY

For example: You ask your husband to pickup milk from the grocery store. He comes home with WHOLE MILK. I'm sorry am I three? When did I ever purchase WHOLE milk for this household? Are we trying to get even fatter than we did at the beginning of our marriage?

Do you even know what you're apologizing for?

Gents, it's that gold plate in the middle.

Or how about this little scenario: It's your first Christmas at your house and 15 family members are coming for dinner and so far your wife has spent about $795 dollars on food, new household items, table decor, and decorations. She's running around the house barking orders to your frightened children and all of a sudden turns into Medusa as she whips her hair and glares at you for asking what a charger is and where you put it. (Not gonna lie, this is probably my future.) Then for the rest of the day she refuses to speak to you for "not understanding" her needs on such a stressful day.

7. It's fucking expensive
The courting phase...that involves money..but mostly yours gentleman.
The engagement.. oh well rings aren't expensive..If you're a cheap bastard. Sorry gentleman...that's you again.
The Engagement Party, Rehearsal Dinner, Wedding, Honeymoon (well it ALL sounded like a good idea until you maxed out your VISA on party favors and the open bar...)
A house, kids, cars, college education (not just your kids either, you will be paying out the ass on your school loans still as well.)


Well despite the fact that you're BROKE at least you still have your chubby, stressed out, passive aggressive, vomit in their hair, nagging significant other to keep you warm at night.

Enjoy marriage folks, sounds like a great time.


Yours Truly,
The Bitter Bitch

Coming Home: The people you want to see and those well yeah..

You know what I'm talking about. It's break (Thanksgiving, Christmas..pick any holiday)...you're finally 21 and you get to go to your towns local 'hot' spots to grab drinks with your friends. You inevitably run into every person you went to high school with and then some. 

My friend came up to me after the third night looked me in the eye and said "I can't do this anymore, I cannot have the same conversation with another person one more time."

Let me explain:
GIRLS
"Hiiiiii how areeeee you you looook soo great!" (embrace with hug)
"Where are you going to school again...oh nice what's your major!" (Half the shit you already know from facebook)
 "Are you still with what's his face?"
"No we don't speak that cheating bastards his name." (cue in awkward moment)
"Have you seen (insert mutual friend name here)? "
"You haven't well they are around here somewhere!"
"Oh wow that's awesome!"
"Yeah I love coors light too!"
 "Youuuu look so great did you lose weight?"

 GUYS
"Hey man how's it going dude" (strange man embrace with some handshake, man hug, pound-it  thingy I can't do)
"Yeah I have seen you in a minute"
"Just hanging out finishing up school, still playing hockey"
"Haha yeah been checkin' into the woodshed quite a bit with a couple of different bitties"
"Did you see what's her face"
"Yeah man did her tits get bigger or what?"

Then it's...

That girl who was too cool for you in high school suddenly says Hi or that guy you had a crush on as a freshman in high school buys you a drink and drunkenly starts hitting on you.

There are the people you would rather not see, the people you're indifferent about, and there's the few people who you run up to and leap into their arms of pure excitement. (Oh I'm sorry that's how I greet people I truly adore, maybe some of you still go for the hug but I prefer a dramatic scene similar to when Baby jumps into Patrick Swayzees (RIP) arms in Dirty Dancing.)

Unfortunately, I've never been able to FULLY execute this.

So you have your reunions, you smile deviously at that cute guy you want to make out with (what, no I've never done that!), you buy people you barely know shots, and at the end of the night you're a little exhausted from all of it. So many people stuffed into about 2.5 hours of loud music and overpriced drinks. There's the bumpin' and grindin, exchanging of numbers (most you will never use), and running around like a drunken idiot. Lets be honest, you wouldn't see 85% of these people if you weren't at this hole in the wall bar.

What I'm trying to say is we can't blame ourselves or anyone. Life happens. We grow up and we change. We all go off on our ways becoming strange little adults adventuring off on our own. We forget to keep in touch with each other. But every once in a while we get our shit together and we make it happen.

 I learned that drinking 3 bottles of wine and eating massive amounts of pizza while reconnecting with my loud, crazy, friends is extremely more gratifying than standing in a crowded bar screaming to have a conversation. That late night trips to Burger King and car dancing like a nut job builds a better friendship than lifeless conversations with captain and cokes at the bar.

Somewhere along the line home changes. It's not the place you sleep anymore. It's that friend who knows your favorite candy and buys it for you just because, the person who helps you wash the dishes after a party, or backs your ass up even when you're blatantly wrong. They don't question it they just do. Those are the people you want in your life. Those are the people you would tackle to the dirty bar floor in embracing in a giant bear hug of love, affection, and potentially and STD or two if you're at the HOASIS.

So there it is. I do kind of sort of in my own twisted dysfunctional way...have a heart.



Now go fuck yourself.

Things I Thoroughly Despise with a Burning Passion

Now when I was little and I used to say the word ‘hate’ my mom would look me in the eye and say, “Christina, Hate is a strong word.” Most children would disregard this. But my mother is not a lady you cross (seriously as the boys I grew up with, they are STILL a little scared of her). All she had to do was give me the look. It could make a grown man wet his pants. Instead of using the word hate so my mother can know she has had a profound effect on my life..I have titled this blog

Things I Thoroughly Despise with a Burning Passion

Wet Towels on the Bed- If you put your towel on my bed I will revoke your towel privileges. How does it feel to drip dry in the shower? Shake like a dog? Try to use toilet paper to get dry? Sorry I’m not sorry.

Out of control facial hair- I am very vocal about my dislike for unkempt facial hair. No Shave November nearly Put me over the edge. Seriously I was walking around with a razor in my purse with some barbisol chasing after the atrocity of beards that were in a 3 mile radius. Now that its December, please keep it to a minimum gentleman. I’m trying to avoid beard burn during the holidays.

The Annoying Guy at the Party- Why is he so close to my face? Why is it that everywhere I go he seems to find me? Even when I go pee he tries to come to the bathroom with me. I literally just ran away mid-conversation and he didn’t take the hint. He offered me alcohol and I refused. This should be a great hint at my lack of interest. I am so confused.

Shia, my love..has no idea I exist. He also still looks hot with a broken arm. Swoon.

Hot Guy that is totally not interested in me and by hate (sorry mom) I totally mean I still want you but have come to the sad realization that we will no longer lock eyes across a crowded dance floor and find love in a hopeless place.

SERIOUSLY!

Girls who look good at the gym- Dear Gym Bitties, take off the eyeliner, stop wearing so much spandex and color coordinating your outfit. It’s sickening. Ok, I will admit it. I am a little jealous. You do look really pretty while running. What is your secret to not sweating? Why don’t you look tired after four miles? Oh now you’re going to do an ab workout? You’re a stupid bitch.

The two freshman in the corner making out at a party- Okay, so after four years of college you learn that making out in public probably isn’t one of the best ideas you’ve had. It’s okay we all do it. So when I see the two drunk children making out in the corner while dry humping each other I get a little nostalgic..okay... not really that’s friggin' disgusting take it back to your freshman dorm please.


Forehead Kisses- This is a little inaccurate. Forehead kisses are great. They are endearing and show you care in a protective, “I will punch someone in the face if they hurt you” kind of way. It’s very sweet. But I think that they should be reserved for the far and few. Forehead kisses should not be given away like free candy. They should be kept locked up awaiting for someone who you will not only attack a human being for but who makes your stomach do the flip flop nana banana bing bong.

The Dumb Crying Bitch- She’s probably crying about some asshole who clearly isn’t as invested in the relationship as she is or else he would be there making her laugh and paying for her drinks. She’s got her entire girl posse rubbing her back, giving her inspirational advice like “He probably just has a hard time expressing himself emotionally because he’s a guy”. What a load of bullshit that is. Pick your friend up give her a shot of tequila, tell her the fucking truth, peel her off the bar at the end of the night, and help her put her pjs on when you take her home.

One Word Answers- OK. SURE. YES. NO. COOL. GREAT.

When you think you’re the man- We get it, everyone loves you. Your smart, charming, attractive, funny...does your list of talents ever end? You want to know what really makes you the man. Playing scrabble with your Nana every Monday. Forgetting you’re the man for five minutes to see how everyone around you is doing.





Well everyone, I know this blog was filled with entirely too much cheer so I just wanted to let you know that I LOVE puppies. They make my heart melt like a popsicle on the 4th of July. I am immediately a better, kinder, caring, and more considerate person when I am near a puppy. HINT HINT.

Happy Holidays,

Love (even though it doesn't exist)...The Bitter Bitch.

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

Why it SUCKS to be a girl

Now gentleman, you cannot under any circumstances be angry at me about this one. Why? Because I already posted a blog about the shitty things that you have to deal with in life. I also REALLY do feel bad that you're not allowed to cry and when you get excited something pokes out of your pants for all the world to see.

But I am a lady. Okay, scratch that. I am a female. No seriously I am a lady. A man bowed to me just the other day. No that's not fucking weird...okay, maybe just a little.

ANYWAY...

The fact that I have ovaries and boobies and from time to time (or once EVERY MONTH for almost my entire life) they cause me lots of pain and maybe even one day will cause me 9 months and around 12+ hours of excruciating pain due to your stupid swimmers gives me the right to make a solid case on why is blows the big one (no pun intended) to be a girl.

1. You bleed at innapropriate times: On my 12th birthday I received a gift. The worst gift in the history of mankind. Besides the time my best friend gave me hair clips for Christmas or when my mom bought me a belly shirt when I was chubby 3rd grader. Mother nature hailed down from her mighty high horse and turned me into a woman. As much of a woman you can be at age 12 I supposed. As if I wasn't awkward enough with my red hair, gap tooth, and love for the power ranges I was blessed with Ant Flo.

Flo' feels the need to come during the most inconvenient times.

Like when you're no where near a bathroom, wearing tight white shorts, and with your friend and her dad.

On the plane on the way to your Senior Spring Break trip to The Bahamas.

During your lacrosse game, while you're guarding the most furious and wolflike female you've ever seen.

Just before your first date with this super hot guy wait... this obviously doesn't matter because NO self-respecting woman would sleep with a guy on their first date! No matter how Greek Godly he is. And this especially doesn't matter to me because I do not get asked out on dates.

Whatever, you get the picture. Feeling like your insides are being squeezed like a wet kitchen towell, while bloated with a giant zit right between your eyebrows is FUCKING AWFUL.

2. Men's ability to be NATURALLY pretty: Guys, I am so freaking envious that you can pop out of the shower all wet and drippy looking incredibly freaking sexy. You know what we look like? Drowned muskrats. Blotchy, bleeding (from slipping on the shaving cream mid-shave), and our hair..it is either dripping uncomfortably all over our back or in a turbie twist making us look like this guy.

All you do is fucking put on a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a t shirt and look awesome. We must then 'style our hair' , put on a bunch of makeup, squeeze into the worlds tightest jeans, a pushup bra, and some sort of shirt that makes us look more fashionable and sexy than the other bitches at the bar. Do you know how long it takes to master eyeliner? No, because you don't freaking NEED it.

Is this every unmarried woman's future?

3.  Not wanting to get MARRIED: If a guy says he doesn't want to get married he's the super cool bachelor who will always 'slay' hot chicks never having to live life 'on the leash'. When woman says that all of a sudden we are transformed into the creepy cat lady who is a baby hating alien with no wish to make sandwiches every morning at 5am for her 3 children while her husband snores upstairs in their egyptian cotton sheets.

4. Tights: Some men may actually wear tights and that's fine, you can totally sympathize. But when I was a kid I wanted to claw my mom's eyes out every holiday, communion, dumb family event she made me wear tights for. They are itchy, they fall down, and they cut off your circulation. As little boys you wore chinos, a Tommy hilfiger button up, and a sweater vest. That sounds to put it simply, like heaven.

She uses her boobs to pay off her college education!

5. I was going to talk about how it sucks to have boobs. But then I seriously reconsidered it. Boobs are powerful creatures. They help you to find your way out of a speeding ticket, get a couple of extra chicken nuggets at Wendys, and men are OBSESSED with them. If you learn to use your bubby powers the right way the occational soreness and wearing a bra don't seem like that big of a deal.

6. The cute, funny, fat girl will never be liked as much as the cute, funny, fat guy. Because she's a girl and it's sad that she's over-weight and not funny when she makes fun of herself because she's just insecure and hiding her true feelings. Such a bunch of bull. Men get away with being chubba's a lot easier than woman can.

7. Multitasking: It's hard for a guy to watch tv and have a conversations with you at the same time. Well I can make a three course meal, read a chapter for finance, watch Grey's Anatomy, fold laundry, and talk on the phone all at once. You may be thinking, "That doesn't suck at all". Well yes it does. Because woman are expected to do infinitely more things than men. If a guy wakes up at noon, showers, writes a paper, and drinks 10 beers that is considered to be a "productive" day. If I did that I would be a useless POS.

"Ahh, what a successful day, let me reward myself with a beer...or 20."

8. We have to marry you: You hairy, messy, loogie hocking, farting, angry, hornballs. And we take care of you, bear your children, all with a smile on our face. (I think it's because we're in love with you, but I'm not 100% because I think love is stupid and non-existant)

9. We push a 6-12 pound human being out of our vagina.

10.  See nine, about 10 more times.
 

Anywho, I still like being a girl more than a guy because of all the great benefits of having boobs.

Also, Boys you may notice that I KINDLY didn't mention that you can sleep with however many woman you want and be "THE MAN" but girls are whores. Mostly because you are way more discrete, composed, and tactful in your skanky decisions. I can respect that.Girls who sleep with three dudes in the same frat house really are whores and I cannot respect that. You at least have the decency to sleep with one girl from each athletic team or to not throw a fit at the bar when all three of your past hookups show up with a new girl.


Peace, Love, and Vagina's,

Teen

Hookups: In retrospect

My thoughts on hookups have changed darastically since freshman year of college. Here's a nice little story.

I believe a lot of college students begin this transformation sometime near the end of their sophomore year and beginning of their junior. At 18 new to the 'being on your own thing' (aka living in a dorm with a bunch of people your age, getting money from mom and dad every month and having a meal plan.) We were like hungry children in the candy store. Anything and everything was acceptable. We didn't much care what kind of candy it was just as long as it tasted good. So we picked our treats and woke up the next morning as they scampered on out.

Soon enough that feeling would come. Well, there are three 'feelings'. The sugar high would kick and you would find yourself crashing. You're left with a nasty headache from your over-indulgence and potentially the regret of too much sugar. Or perhaps you realize that the candy isn't that great and your instantly over it's brief endorphin rush. Sometimes, the candy becomes an addiction. Something you fiend for, a daily fix. But lets remember that's just what it is. You're 'fix'. That tasty treat you purchase in the bakery and devour in your car; disposing of the bag before anyone can see, is just dessert.

Now don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with sampling a nice chocolate ganache but just remember that you deserve your main entree. Don't forget that somewhere out there you have a slow braised osso bucco over risotto waiting for you. Dessert may be your weakness from time to time but the main entree, that's what fills you up. Remember that.


A Retrospective Dose of Teen

The Toast

So my mom got married yesterday evening, I know some of you take pride in the fact that I normally am a heartless bitch making fun of the inner workings of my crappy relationships or hating on men. Deep down, I may even be serious!


Since I was the maid of honor at my mother's wedding I had to dig down deep in my tiny grinch heart to come up with the proper words to describe her and her new husbands love for one another. (Happy people, gagging noises ensue)



The Toast:
When I was growing up my mom was the person who nagged at you repeatedly to put on an ironed shirt and pair of jeans before leaving the house. Once I was grown up she reminded me not to drink too many beers out at night with my friends. In Rick and I’s case both these things still happen.
Since Wendy brought me into this world I have no choice but to listen to her. However, Rick does not. But that's the kind of guy Rick is, he figured something out in two years what it took me 17 years to figure out. That my mother is always right and without her in our lives we would be drunk and wrinkly.


I am so lucky to have a mother that is not only my caretaker but my best friend. She taught me that patience, kindness, and responsibility are some of the most important virtues a person can possess. This is why I am not surprised that she chose to marry a man that possess’ all of these qualities. Any man that lets three 21 year old girls invade his home, take his SUV to Orlando, tries all of my culinary creations, and makes the bed every morning is not someone you pass up.


What I’m trying to say is all we really want is someone who accepts us for our obsessive cleaning habits or preference for over-cooked meat. Someone who loves us no matter what. Someone who will kiss our seven heads at night telling us everything will be okay. I am so happy that my mom and Rick have found that in each other.
I wish you a lifetime of happiness, cheers!




Okay, so maybe I'm not heartless after all. But at least I'm still a bitch.


A Wedding Dose of Teen

Life Lessons with a side of hope

The world might be a shitty place with thoughtless people and crappy weather...but we can't let that affect us. There's still booze, cute old couples, and dancing in the rain.

Macauley Culkin making my days better since 1980

Just thought I would share this video with my 12 blog followers and apparently numerous anonymous readers via Facebook and Twitter..

Despite the fact that it is not Christmas and the sun is shining after 'Not so Ferocious' Irene caused a couple of power outages, mass hysteria, and high tide to welcome itself into Anjon's Restaurant (why is my families restaurant in the worst geographical location ever?)  I thought I would share one of my favorite moments in Home Alone. Please ignore the Spanish title and crappy audio.

In other news everyone who is going back to school have a fun, safe, and educational semester! Most of my friends are embarking on their senior year with bittersweet thoughts..perhaps one of my favorite quotes will help you get through the excitement and over-whelming thoughts of entering the "real world" in just 9 months.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”


An Enlightened Dose of Teen

Quote of The Day

My thoughts about the world were shaken. Like driving along a bumpy road and losing control of the steering wheel, tossing you, just a tad, off the road. The wheels kick up some dirt, but you're able to pull it back. Yet no matter how tightly you grip the wheel, no matter how hard you try to drive straight, something keeps jerking you to the side. You have so little control over anything anymore. And at some point, the struggle becomes too much, too tiring, and you consider letting go. Allowing tragedy... or whatever to happen.
-Jay Asher, Thirteen Reasons Why

Let's Pray

"Hoping and praying isn't exactly my style."

"Yeah, God doesn't like me enough to let me pray my way out of things"

"I think it's cause we only pray when we want something.."

"Oh is that not how it works?"

The Ins and Outs of Car Crying: Admit it you all do it

Now I like to keep my blog light and fluffy. I like to address difficult issues with a bit of humor. 

Sometimes you have to laugh or else you'll cry your eyes out.. I read that somewhere once and it really stuck. If you think about it laughter and crying go hand in hand. Both are often times uncontrollable reactions to things that happen to you. Sometimes I just cannot control my tears or laughter, I literally explode with either when it happens. They take a lot out of you too. Everyone should take a cat nap after a long laugh or a good cry.

I'm going to discuss something in which we all are guilty of once or twice or you know well over a handful of times in our life. Car crying. You know when you fight back tears walking down the driveway before getting into the caror this one song comes on and before you know it there's a waterfall erupting from your face and your nose is leaking everywhere. That's right, you know what I'm talking about. There's something about the car that just helps you let loose. Maybe its being enclosed in the space that makes you feel protected from the outside world. The security of being in control of a moving object that just lets you lose a part of yourself. Even though there's windows and mine are certainly not tinted it still feels like a protective coccon that allows you to lose it. Now for some proper crying etiquette.

Proper Car Crying Etiquette

1. No human being under any circumstances is allowed to be in car. However, dogs or any other animal are more than welcome. 

2. You must wipe your face at the red lights. For some reason no matter how upset or how hard I am crying I always seem to get my shit together at the red light. I wipe my face a little just in case the old lady or the young group of kids in the car next to me happen to sneak a peak over at me. I wouldn't want them to think I was some crazy chick crying in her car. My gosh natural body process' are so embarassing. I can only imagine how horrible this is for guys. I imagine you boys furiously wiping away your tears as you put the breaks on, taking deep breaths, and turning on some rap music. That's actually quite cute by the way. Not that your crying but the preparation, I would be really sad to see someone crying in the car. In fact I would do this in my window to you..

3. Let the tears roll! Do not pull out that lonely Dunkin Donuts napkin in the glove box until you are at your destination. If you take it out too early it will be soggy and useless crumpled up in your hand for the entire car ride.

4. Music: Adjust the music to your mood. Do not just hope and pray that a good song comes on the radio. Make sure those essential tracks are on your iPod for emergency car crying sessions. Turn it up, hit the steering wheel in anger whatever it is you do when you play that one song that hits home for you.

5. If you are really close with someone, so close that blubbering inaudible sounds on the phone to this person is completely acceptable and they won't think you're bat shit crazy, dial them up. Most of the time I call my mom. She's is one of the few who can help to calm me down from any situation. Plus she has no choice but to love me, she created me! Sometimes I'll text my best friend of 15 years (yes that's longer than most marriages) something completely off topic from my crying just so I can laugh about all the stupid shit we went through growing up together. Thinking about what you've been through can really help you with what you're going through.

6. If you're not done crying yet, take the long way. We all know once we reach our destination it just doesn't seem right to cry anymore.

7. Upon reaching your final destination: Get your shit together. Take a look in the mirror (no, it's not pretty) wipe your face, use that Dunk's napkin you have on reserve, slap your cheeks, take some deep breaths, search for a mint, put on some makeup (if your that kind of girl, I SURE AM), and roll out of the car like nothing ever happened.

There you have it.

A Dose of Tears