follow, unfollow

unfollowing twitter-whores = so necessary.   just a little ditty i posted on Hellz’ blog yesterday.

the one thing i love about the Hellz blog is that its very personal.  it brings its readers like you and me, past the brand, past the kick ass line, past the “industry”, and into the lives of the people behind the brand.   its always personal, always original, and always authentic.

for instance, you know that our crazy-desktop-doting-dear MissLawn got surprised with a trip to Hawaii for her and Bam’s (a.k.a. the hubby of the year! fella’s did u take note?) anniversary.  you also know that  Brittany has a bff named Spoon and dont eat meat.  and if you want Mink to eat in your cafe, be nice and dont post rude, fobby messages on the window or you’ll find your self blasted all over the internet.   shit, i bet that place is closing down soon.  

my point is, you get that understanding of WHO as opposed to WHAT.  

with the popularity of twitter and tumblr soaring thru the roof and the re-blog vs retweet feature that people so highly adore, i’ve seen an insurgence of “blogs” that are — quite frankly– bullshit.    living in a generation of internet-savvy and opinionated young people, my phone and computer have been bombarded with “i took a mean shit today”, RT RevRunWisdom:,  and this annoying girl giving me a play-by-play on her day– ALL OF WHICH I COULD GIVE A FLYING RAT’S ASS ABOUT.

don’t get me wrong, quotes are great, i use them all the time.  i wanted to cry the first time i got reblogged.  Rev Run is AMAZING and sometimes, things are so powerful, so funny, or so insanely true that they HAVE to be retweeted.   but if you consistantly base your blog on your reblog, retweet, and cosign of  other people’s shit,  then your url is just a waste of internet space.  

and then u wonder why you dont have any followers.???   no one needs more fat to chew.   create something with sustenace and people will listen.  i’m on a mission to make blogging personal again. 

and i knooooow i aint the only one on board when i say.. 
BLOGGERS OF AMERICA!!!   IF WE DONT KNOW ABOUT WHO YOU ARE, WE WON’T CARE ABOUT WHAT YOU LIKE!     

word.

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on being fake.

after reading Jess’ post on being an outcast, it got me thinking. and while jess may have considered herself an outcast, looking back, i consider my former self to be a fake.

i guess it has to do with my need to feel accepted.   i’m a sagittarius – which means i’m a people pleaser, amiable, and uber fun.   growing up i wanted to be freakin kelly kapowski (i was obsessed with saved by the bell) — cool, popular, and pretty.  but going to an all-girls catholic high school did some  crazy things to my self-esteem.

i was hated on.  BIG TIME. catholic school girls are CATTY LIKE A MUTHAFUCKA.  and not only was my school small (400 students total) but we had nothing better to do than to talk shit about each other.  for one reason or another, wether it be my ex bf, my current bf, my style,  my intelligence…  girls hated me.   and i hated being hated.   

 so then i wanted for them to like me, but i tried too hard.   when all the girls wore Lugz, i couldnt afford em.  and i didnt wanna ask my parents to buy em for me cuz they was already payin $5000/year for tuition.   so i saved my allowance and bought me the next best thing — sketchers.   but i still wasnt cool enough.  not in the least. 

 i wanted to be everything i wasnt….  so i lost a little weight, grew my hair out, got my braces off and became everything i swore i would never be.

i became a hater.   the thing about being an upperclassman, is that you ALWAYS had the lower classmen to pick on.   i musta made numerous girls cry….   u know that girl who talks about your outfit within earshot?   that was me.  (wait, that still is me, fml)

i became everything my “girlfriends” were.   i started doing the things they did, wearing the things they wore.  pretending to be someone i wasnt was becoming easy… until it wasnt.  it became hard to fake the funk.   i did what i wanted and then turned around and lied to my friends about it for fear of their reaction.   i was afraid of what they thought of me., of what they would say.  i was TERRIFIED of being real.  (how sad is that?!)

it may have been my delusional view on our friendship (maybe they didnt care what i did, but u coulda fooled me from all the shit talking they did about it), or maybe it was just me tryna break away from it all.   but it all caught up to me….  i couldnt fake it.  and i had faked myself for so long that i didnt even know how to go back to being REAL.

and when all my “friends” decided they didnt wanna be friends anymore and i had no one left to judge me but myself, i spent a long long long time searching my soul and figuring ME out.   i dont blame them, i wouldnt have wanted to be my friend either.  they taught me a lot about myself, about who i wanted to be, and about how (not) to be a friend.   cant be mad at that.

and now that i’ve manifested a strong sense of identity, and now that i can say “thats my shit” and mean it… i look around and realize that i have become more than my former self wanted to be.  MY LIFE IS FUCKING GRAND. cuz real talk, the real me is going farther than the fake me ever dreamed about.

on being a bitch.

the word “bitch” no longer phazes me.  i say it about myself all the time.  I AM A BITCH.   and unfriendly to boot.  how i managed to make any friends is beyond my comprehension.

just in the last day or so i’ve heard the following :

(from a good friend on our high school interaction) “i can’t believe you came to my house tho.  you were a bitch!  i was scared of you”

(from my nbf while watching GLEE) “why are girls named rachel bitches?  even in fiction!”

(from my bff while chatting on fb) “why my best friends gotta be bitches?  you are the meanest, yet nicest person i’ve ever known” 

(from my girlfriend before she moved) “Rachel? she’s not very friendly but she is a good friend.”

and then i heard the following:  

(from a friend while aiming at work) ” i dont think you’re a bitch at all.   i think you just dont like being taken advantage of”

(from my son’s godfather) “i used to never like you. you used to be such a bitch.  but you’ve changed a lot and now you’re one of my favorites”

(from someone i’ve only known for a little bit) “you’ve totally proven me wrong about you.  you’re not a bitch at all. i mean you are, but not the way i thought u were.” 

(from my bff) “you just can’t be mean to the people you care about.  you care too much. “

well aint that but a bitch.?! 

am i losing my bitchiness?  losing my edge?   i think its quite possible, but i can honestly say that i have never been happier or more comfortable to meet new people or to reconnect with old ones.  [espeically when i thought she was a bitch and she thought i was a bitch but turns out we’re SOOO MEANT TO BE FRIENDS *ahem, Jess*]

but real talk, it really surprised me.  i’ve accepted my “bitch” title for sooo long and to hear people tell me that i’m not, is kind of shocking.  kind of nice.  so maybe i have changed, and maybe i am a little nicer and thats ok too cuz i can’t tell you how GRAND life has been since i started smiling at people….

but i can tell you that i’m still the girl who will pull her friend by the hand and say “let me help you with your outfit” as i get her out of that GROSS top.  i’m still the girl who will take a pic of the really big girl wearing a really small dress in vegas and post it on facebook.   yeah, thats me.  and yeah, yeah, i know.  i’m a bitch.  =)

nasty nas, you are the truf.

M- this one’s for you.  luhhuuuu.
 
“No ideas original, there’s nothin new under the sun.  Its never what you do, but how its done..”

Can  I get an amen?  Can I also get a middle finger for everyone out there who makes it known that they started a trend?   

fashion is FOR THE MASSES.    unless u make shit urself, SOMEONE is bound to have the same piece.  think ur the only one rockin that eyeliner or that shoe or that hairstyle?  think again.   everyone and everything is inspired.   so, if ur not emulating someone else, ur emulating something else.   going back to my last “and i quote”, u aint original.. no one is..  but fuck at least be authentic.

and lets say you are an innovator, and you did start rockin somethin before everyone in ur immediate circle did…  dont sit there on a high horse and tell everyone and they mama that “you rockin my bun. thats my bun.  i started it” .. especially if the girl is rockin YOUR BUN better than YOU.   

cuz if that was the case, i’d be in ur face about BLINKING cuz “thats my blink. i started it. i’ve been doing it since i was born.”   stay humble about your shit.

 it aint never about WHAT you rock, its HOW u rock it.   chuuucchh..

true story.

the diary of a mad woman, and an asshole. 

(the following is based on a true-story. all names and places have been changed to protect the innocent)

Dear Diary,
I’m moving!   this long-distance, talking on the phone, only seeing him when i fly there is getting old..  i decided i wanna be closer to him so i’m moving!  its only an hour flight away so it shouldnt be too bad.    plus, maybe me being closer will make him want to be exclusive.  that other bitch he’s dating aint got shit on me anyway, she’s a fat horrendous COW! *sigh* its gonna be perfect, i found an appartment 5 minutes from his place.  he doesnt know yet, i want to surprise him the next time i visit.   i know its a big decision but i love him. he’s gonna be so happy.  we’re gonna be so happy.
  

Journal Entry # 27
my game must be TIGHT cuz i swear the jumpoff chick is on my dick.   the other night, i come home from girlfriend #2’s house and she at my door!  she didnt tell me she was coming and so im hella surprised. 1. because she always fly her own ass down here and 2. cuz i smell like sex and hella tryna figure out how to not have her notice. 

anyway, she says she got a gift for me (like she always do, cuz i got it like that) and its a key.  to her new apartment.  10 blocks from mine.   she fuckin CRAZY, yo.  i kind of expect her to show up at my door tonight with an ice pick or something.   but as long as she pays for dinner then i aint stressin.  HA.

Dear Diary,
fat horrendous COW is out of the picture.  i knew it wouldnt work out cuz she’s fat, ugly and broke.   now he has more time to be with me.  can’t complain bout that!    he lost his job tho so i offered for him to move in with me till he gets back on his feet.   im an independant women, i dont need a man to help me pay my bills!    plus, im happy to take care of him now cuz i know he’s gonna take care of us later.
   

Journal Entry #36
yo, being broke suuuuccckksss.    but Jumpoff pays for everything now so its coo.   dinner, drinks, she takes me shopping and i stay at her place for free.  how many other dudes can say they got a sugar mama?  had to let go of gf#2 cuz how am i sposed to take her to the house when i got the jumpoff watchin me like a hawk?   its coo, her cousin got her own place so she just been replaced.   damn im fuckin PIMPIN!  i should teach a class on freakonomics or something.  *pop my fuckin colllar*

Dear Diary,
we’re going to hawaii!   the tickets were kind of expensive but whatever, its gonna be so worth it.  im gonna meet his family!   gosh this is such a big step for us, this means he must be serious about me.   things are going just as planned. i need to start losing weight.

Journal Entry # 45
what the hell?  i need a break from all this suffocation!   i told jumpoff i was going back home to hawaii for  a family reunion and the crazy bitch bought herself a ticket!  i mean, she bought mine too, but she didnt have to my moms was gonna do that.  that means i gotta fuckin babysit on vacation?   FML i hope she doesnt wanna come to the party and meet my fam and shit.  i mean, she coo but we aint even like THAT.   fuck, what am i gonna do? 

Dear Diary,
i am devastated. i cannot eat. i cannot sleep.  i cannot even BREATHE.  he’s moving back home.  i JUST moved here.  what am i gonna do?   i mean i guess i could move there too but where am i gonna stay?  with his mom?  i offered to let him stay here as long as he likes, rent free but he declined.  i dont know where we stand. i love him, i know he loves me.  i just dont see us working out unless we’re in the same city.   Maybe i can get a transfer?

Journal Entry #58
this chick just will NOT QUIT.  tried breaking up with her, but i just can’t.  she takes care of me, goes out of her way for me, she hella ride or die for me.  can’t break her heart so im just moving back home to my moms.   met some hot ass girl @ oceans last time i was home and i think im lightweight in love.. or lust.. either way she TIGHT. (aint gonna tell her that of course).  anyways the sugar mama just can’t take a hint tho, cuz she offered to move her ass out there too.   i mean REALLY?  i MUST give some good dick cuz she chasin it all over the country.  its just too much! im crossin my fingers her transfer wont go thru.   anddd hopefully i get to keep the TV when i move back home too. 

———————————————————————————————–

Dear Dumbass,
I MEAN FORREAL?!   he never tells you he loves you, uses u, dont invite u anywhere and u’s in love?   just cuz he’s dickin u down doesnt mean he loves you.  he’s just not that into you.  let him miss the scent of ur panties once in a while.

lesson of the day – STOP CHASIN DICK.  

Dear Douchebag,
can u just KEEP IT REAL?!   she maybe delusional about you but u lettin her think there’s more to ur relationship then there really is.    u may think ur god’s gift, but u just an asshole interested in free pussy. u aint pimpin hoes, u pimpin yourself out to the highest bidder.   man up and handle ur own.  

the end.  thank you, come again. 

charm school.

i dont believe in being polite.  i dont believe in saying something “just to be nice.” i dont believe in not saying something “just to be nice.”  

i dont believe in telling ur friend that her ugly ass shoes are “sooooo her” just cuz she’s ur friend.  i dont believe in declining food from an acquaintance in an effort to be polite.   i dont believe in saying “he can’t handle ur awesomeness” rather than “he’s just not that into you.”

but i dont believe in being rude either.   i dont believe in being mean for the sake of being mean.  (abi, shut up.  just cuz its mean doesnt make it any less true)

i believe in being real.  i believe in the prevelance of truth.  i believe in saying what you mean and meaning what you say.  you cannot please everyone and someone’s feelings are bound to get hurt anyway so just tell it like it is, everytime. 

being ladylike has nothing to do with keeping ur elbows off the table, cooking dinner everynight for ur man, and only speaking when being spoken to.  it means defining yourself every chance you get.  it means defying every ladylike barrier put up in an effort to stunt your growth and ur power.  it means doing everything to the best of ur ability, even if u can’t do it better than he can… or she can.. for that matter. 

being classy is staying true to yourself against all odds.  its a take-no-prisoners-no-holds-bar-attitude in your pursuit of happiness.  its not just talking, its allowing people to HEAR you.  its making a statement while paying ur bills and shopping and chewing gum and feeding your child all while batting ur eyelashes and flashing ur smile. 

i am  a lady.  i am superwoman.  and i am still not polite.

FML

Beneath the make-up & behind the smile
I’m just a girl who wishes for the world..
– Marilyn Monroe

“fuck my life.  and the one before it. and my afterlife” – hayati

this blog is not meant to inspire, has no comedic value, isnt lovey dovey, wont make u love life more, or anything of the sort.  if ur looking for any of that, do not pass go.  do not collect $200.  read a previous post.   YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

with that outta the way.  can i just reiterate…  FUCK MY LIFE.

livin my life like its golden?  u know whats wrong with gold?  it melts.

shit happens.  i become irrational, emotional, aggravated, annoyed and tell people to save their money so they can bail me outta jail as soon as i kill a muthafucka.   i have bad days, weeks, months.  i have moments where i cannot bare to get out of bed and face another human being.   but i do it anyways.  and not because its the right thing to do, but because if i dont i wont ever be able to go back to being “normal” — whatever that is.

so i make the best of what i got, livin my life like its golden even if its really just gold plated.   laughing it off, drinking it down, shrugging it away cuz thats really all i can do to keep myself in one piece.

cuz i feel like im about to crack.