bitterrants

[bitterrants]

Thanks for ruining my Shavasana, Beth

I’m not usually very open about my yoga attendance or “practice” as the yogis call it, but I do find it to be like a cheaper therapy. Instead of laying on a noisy aggressive-looking leather couch, paying a stranger hundreds only to discover you’re a weirdo who has fucked up dreams about having sex with clowns... I’d rather channel that energy and money into something that’s going to leave me feeling relaxed like I do after working out. I’ve always been a very active person and was an advocate gym user or gym rat up until one of the most expensive gyms on Long Island gave me RINGWORM. That’s a whole other story, which basically left me feeling depressed, angry and fat for 2 months while I patiently waited for that shit to clear up. All it takes is one person to fuck up your day or 60 days in my case. 

The reason I’m writing this though is to talk about my rekindled relationship with yoga, but before I jump into that here come a whole lot of complaints. *VENT SESSHHHHHH* So to start it off, I was going to a yoga studio in Garden City for awhile, but found the broads at this one particular studio were probably the worst human beings I have ever encountered. I don’t think manners are difficult to pick up on and I wish courtesy was common, but it’s not. I used to show up 15 minutes early to class every time. I would lay in my relaxation pose or “Shavasana” to unwind from my hectic day and just relax with my eyes closed. Moments later, some bitch (we’ll call her Susan) would slam her yoga mat down inches from my face while on her phone talking about what a stressful day she had getting a mani-pedi and picking up her beamer from the dealership. That does sound stressful, almost as stressful as being in complete relaxation one second after a long day of WORK --ever heard of it-- where 20 brokers bark orders at you while simultaneously trying to rip you limb by limb only to be abruptly woken up by an obnoxious housewife of Long Island complaining about how long her spa day took. 

Once that asshole settled and shut her hole, we move on to the un-athletic woman on her phone in the back of the class who decided her best yoga outfit was a matching powder blue sweatpants combo top and bottom (yeah this happened). This bitch is on her phone with her keyboard volume at full max. I know we are early to class, but anyone who has their keyboard volume on AT ALL should be punched right in the cooter because that’s just pure evil, do not let them procreate. 

Once class starts, you always get the dickholes that show up 10-15 minutes late and literally sit on top of you. The worst is when they sit on top of you and almost knock you out during their swan dive or even worse if they wreak. Nothing is worse than being trapped in a tight dark room with people who smell like a used diaper filled with day-old vomit. 

My sister had told me the last time I went to that studio that I was probably the only person to leave a yoga studio angry. So that’s when I decided to just focus on working out on my own, which landed me with ringworm...yeah it’s fucking disgusting, I’m well aware. So after I took a break from the gym, I left and decided to seek out a new yoga studio. I found one closer to my house. I had gone to one class before with a friend and the worst thing to happen was someone farted in my friend’s face, but we giggled and moved on. The studio is affordable, the owner is very sweet and the classes are great... or so I thought. The class I took last Thursday was probably the weirdest class I have ever taken anywhere. I’m used to the chanting and sometimes singing and the instructors speaking another language, but no one prepared me for what happened at the end of this particular class. The class was called “All Levels” which is pretty self-explanatory, it was for yogis of all levels, beginner to advanced, but it was definitely more targeted towards advanced. The class was challenging, which I liked, and at the end I was definitely tired and waiting for that final pose, Shavasana. We finally come to an end, we close our eyes, and lay in silence. Normally we have music on, but I was digging the silence. Then all of a sudden, the instructor whips out this 16th century looking musical torture device from a box and started singing in some other language. It honestly sounded like the first accordion ever made. Her singing wasn’t horrible, but being that she was almost directly over my face I couldn’t help squint and fight the urge to blurt out “you fucking serious” followed by uncontrollable laughter. At the end of her unwanted mini-concert, I was left not feeling relaxed, but extremely confused. I looked around and the other yogis praised the instructor and said “how beautiful” the whole experience was. Call me an asshole I don’t really care because Beth for sure ruined my Shavasana that night. Now lies the question, to yelp or not to yelp...

[bitterrants]

Why your period app is bullshit...

It just fucking is.. I don’t need to explain myself.

[bitterrants]

Leopard Bikini Overload

This past weekend, I went to the Jersey Shore with my family, sort of against my will. As my get out of jail free card, I brought a guy friend for the nights I wanted to sneak away. And by sneak away I mean to some trashy bars to get vodka sodas where domestic fights were occurring all around between couples who wore shredded clothes. 

My friend and I left after work Friday night in my car at about 7 PM from his office. It took us almost 4 hours to get to Wildwood, New Jersey. The drive wasn’t too bad since we waited a little bit before leaving, but the motel and yes.. MOTEL with an “M” was pretty bad. If my parents thought this place was decent back then, then they most likely just got their eye prescription corrected. Let’s put it this way, if this motel were a person, it would be Mama June circa early TLC days. Everything was stained. Things you wouldn’t even expect to be stained were stained. The best part about the motel was the location though, right on the water. We were a step away from the sand and super close to North Wildwood where all the bars were. 

We dropped our stuff, quickly got changed and called an uber to go to a bar. We started at Keenan’s, a popular college bar in North Wildwood. They played pretty good music and their drinks were far from weak. My friend and I had a nice night, dancing and catching up, which then followed by a late night dip in the pool, semi interrupted by torrential down pour and thunder, but we stayed put. 

The following day, sunlight had a new meaning. I had never been so hungover and I was pissed because all I wanted to do was veg on the beach, but I could barely keep my eyes open to navigate. We grabbed bagels, fruit and coffee and headed to the beach despite my better judgement and longing for bed and darkness. We set up camp and took out our food only to get attacked by 3 aggressive seagulls. I looked around and it seemed seagulls were attacking people left and right. It was The Birds in real life. So I threw my food down and said, “ What good is a hangover if I cant eat, damn devil birds!” I laid there for about an hour, starving and then realized, I can’t do this. My friend had already left me by then to help my parents who just arrived. So I packed up and went back to Jersey Bates. 

That night we went to a fancy seafood restaurant that was very good called “Jersey Girl.” It was only 8 years old and received high praise for their drinks and food. My sister, her husband, their two kids, my parents, my friend and I all went. I’ve probably mentioned this before, but I have pretty severe food allergies, so granted, to scare the shit out of our waitress in warning her of my allergy I whipped out my epi-pen and put it right on the table. Of course she panicked and went back and forth to the kitchen as if she were being timed on each trip, but she did a good job. After that my sister and her husband walked the pier with my friend and I which was crawling with high schoolers and made me feel like a dinosaur. We quickly wrapped that up and parted ways to do 20-year-old things, like trashy bars round two. So that’s what we did. It was unfortunate because I was tired by then and broke from drinks the previous night, but we went anyway. We started at Westy’s and ended up at Flip Flopz, then back at Keenan’s THEN back at Flip Flopz. Flip Flopz was find up until some drunk girl fell on me causing me to spill my drink. She kept falling over me, pushing me on to other people so I did what any other girl would do in the situation, I pushed back, hard sending her flying into her boyfriend who was equally as drunk and when she tried to turn around I ran. The band that played ended up becoming friends with my guy friend who was so far up their ass he has shit on his sleeves. 

At one point, my friend left me and I was swarmed by dudes (can’t complain about that). I met this one guy Jack, that I hit it off with, who was a special ed teacher in Philly, who surfs and travels. Doesn’t hurt that he looked like a young Matthew McConaughey. Jack introduced me to his best friend, his cousin and his cousin’s friends. When my friend came back, he saw I made friends, introduced himself, yada yada, then got lost. I lied and said my friend was actually my brother, to avoid confusion as to why we aren’t dating, which my friend loved and ended up telling half the bar we’re brother and sister. Spread like wild fire, even in instances not worth noting. So Jack and I hit it off. We danced, laughed, he bought me a couple drinks. At one point, the beers hit me and I really had to go to the bathroom, so I told Jack “I’ll be right back” which was a mistake. I left, came back and Jack was gone. It was so dark in there that I had no energy or night vision goggles to see him so I looked for 2 mins and then gave up. Note to self: when talking to a cute guy DO NOT ABANDON SHIP, STAND YOUR GROUND. At this time, it was 3 AM anyhow and ready to bounce. So we ubered back to Jersey Bates, went swimming, my friend befriended our puerto rican neighbors by bumming a cigarette (gross) as I went up and jumped into bed. 

The next day was the best beach day and I was actually able to enjoy it without being hungover. Note to the young: PACE YOURSELF, no one is going to steal your drinks from you at a bar, so might as well enjoy it (just don’t get drugged whilst milking your drink). The beach is by far the best place to people watch and I have to say the people that were at this beach were far from boring. They were all crazy and there was a wide variety of beach goers. I saw several ladies in leopard print bikinis or cover ups. I saw a couple that actually wore matching American flat bathing suits. Mind you.. July 4th is over and that is the ONLY time it is okay to wear the American flag, ya yankee doodle wack job. I saw one very large woman who practically held her baby upside down while rummaging through a bag for diapers. The most annoying thing about this beach though were also the people because almost everyone smoked. Who wants to go down to the beach and breathe in the misty cigarette smoke? Uh, I sure fucking DON’T! Lung Cancer Activists, you can do whatever you want with your lungs, but I only have this one body and I choose to take care of it. 

Overall, the weekend was good. I always enjoy seeing my sister and her kids. They were adorable and very well behaved the whole trip. My nephew was loving the ocean. My favorite part of the whole trip was when he got pummeled by the waves then quickly came up and the first thing out of his mouth was “WHERE’S PAPA!!!!!!” I was like “Yo dude, relax, he’s behind you.”

[bitterrants]

The Top 5 Most Annoying Girls You’ll Meet on Long Island

I’ve lived here a long time. My whole life. That’s 26 and a half years of encountering every kind of Long Islander out there. The South Shore girls with accents so thick, you could close your eyes and believe Theresa Caputo is in front of you. There’s also the North Shore girls that are lazy and privileged who spend most of their time discussing Summer plans than anything else. But, before I begin I must warn you. You may be one of these girls. So here’s the DISCLAIMER: Every girl has probably fallen under one or more of these categories of ladies.

Let’s start off with the most obvious girl. We all know her. We love her for her intel and gossip on who’s fat from high school. She’s...

The Girl That Says “Like” After Every Word aka The Valley Girl

She like can’t like get through a sentence like without overusing like the word “like.” It kills me. PAINS me to say it, but I have been guilty of this trait of repeatedly saying “like” once or more in a few sentences. Over the years, I’ve tried to kill the habit and have been successful for the most part. Every girl has done it. It’s hard to get out what exactly you mean and the point you’re trying to make without using the word “like” and without caffeine in my case. She always knows who someone is dating, what’s going on with the people in your group of friends. On the other hand, you can get the other broad end of the spectrum..she’s just an idiot you befriended and can’t seem to get rid of; Either way, you know one of these girls. 

The next girl isn’t so obvious unless you’re close friends with her and we all have this girl in a group of friends. She’s...

The Miserable Single Girl aka The MOANa Lisa

She’s fun loving, but only when it’s man hunting night. She’s your best friend, but she’ll constantly complain about the single life. I’m definitely guilty of complaining about being single and yes it can get lonely, but this girl is a broken record of “No one likes me” “Remember that guy I dated...” and “What’s wrong with me?” Every girl is guilty of saying these lines. I definitely have. This girl repeatedly talks about how no one likes her and she can’t hold on to a boyfriend. She’ll obsess over every date wondering if this guy will stick around. She’s a hopeless romantic and a Disney princess at heart, but has unrealistic expectations about relationships and men. 

The third girl is the one every girl hates, but also strives to be at the same time. She’s...

The Most Beautiful Girl You’ve Ever Seen aka Miss Steal Your Man

You may have seen her working out at the gym or even in the office. Maybe even was caught staring at her because she’s so beautiful and it’s just not fair. God had to have made something wrong with her to balance the equation, but she could be perfect and that could send you in a hateful spiral of bad thoughts like,“Why the fuck am I so ugly.” She’s skinny, fit, has white teeth, luscious hair and if she has a decent personality with brains then you’re shit out of luck, lady. I mean lesbihonest, if I was a dude I’d date her and if I had a boyfriend I’d keep him far away from her. You don’t even want to be friends with this girl because you’ll always get guys coming up to you and asking if she’s single and how they can get it in. 

The fourth girl is the one that just grinds your gears and may cause you to speak up and say “SHUT THE FUCK UP, No one asked you.” She’s...

The Attention Seeker (Attention Whore) aka Two Cents Tina

She’s the girl that feeds off of others attention like a leech. She has to be included in everything. She NEEDS to be heard, but what she’s saying isn’t relevant, funny, or anything but a waste of air. She’ll stick her big and fugly nose in other people’s business and talk over you, as if you’re fucking invisible or mute. She’s like a little puppy that won’t stop following you around and nipping at your shoelaces. She’s also a shit stirrer. She wants to wreak havoc on all those around. To her, drama is exciting and you pity her for it. Tough love, is what this bitch needs. She’s rude and obnoxious. She has her fucking cell phone on with her keyboard volume at max before a yoga class or at the doctor’s office because she needs to know everyone’s shit. She’s the absolute worst and I strongly advise you to avoid this human.

The final girl is the one that I encounter frequently and I think it’s because we live on such a heavily populated island. She’s...

The Girl Who Doesn’t Understand Person Space aka Bumpin’ Betty

I encounter this bitch everywhere. For strangers, I’ve been with them in yoga class or any type of group activity class, in line at the grocery store, in line to get coffee. You name it. She thinks that by standing so fucking close to you, it’ll make the line move quicker. Well, you’re strongly mistaken, bitch. As Ludacris once put it, “GET BACK! You don’t know me like that.” As far as friends go, she’s the girl that has to be like an inch away from your face when telling a story. Girl, I don’t need to see how many teeth you have filled and what color your eye liner is, please BACK off. I can smell what you ate for lunch. She’ll get a little drunk and it only gets worse. Now she’s bumping into you, touching your face and practically rubbing up against your arm while telling you she’s misses hanging out with you. I know I’m great, but dude, tell me from a distance. There should be a foot between us and that’s being generous. She’s your friend though and you love her. To tell her that she needs to take a few steps back would only piss her off and start a fight, so you continue to get bumped and bruised while in her presence, but limit the amount of times you see her. 

I have so many other girl categories that annoy me and would annoy anyone really. Just remember, this is all for fun. I’m not trying to put anyone down because I can tell you now, I fall into all these categories, except the last one because I strongly hate being touched...

:D

[bitterrants]

Back at it..

Panic attack for the week. One and done. Maybe it was the fact that it was noon and I hadn’t had coffee yet or maybe it was because Inner Circle sent an email to my entire marketing team because I accidentally signed up for a dating app through my work email. I would go with the second statement. 

Thrown back into the dating pool, I’m even more undesirable than I was before. When I didn’t give a fuck guys flocked towards me and now that I want nothing more than a companion, they couldn’t be escaping from my presence any faster. “What’s that? Steph’s single? RUN! RUN FOR THE HILLS!”

I think the age of dating through these fucked up hook up apps is over and I’m left alone in the dark to become a cat lady with no cats. I guess I’ll live out my days drinking 2 to 3 bottles of red wine every night while I gab to myself watching re-runs of Gilmore Girls until I die. Sounds good. 

The funny thing is the only guys who act like they want me are the ones who want to be my rebound. As much fun as it would be to date a guy solely for the easy stuff, it’s just not me to hit and quit it. 

I should probably start from the beginning though as to why I am in this predicament. It’s hard to go so far back. Let’s see if I can put it into a few sentences.. Starting dating my close friend’s cousin, it was a long time coming (3 years of his attempts and a 10 year long crush - on his side). I never wanted to date him. I knew his past, his family and had a strong feeling it wouldn’t work out. I found him on bumble, swiped right and matched him immediately. He was in a good place in his life (fit, active, was going easy on the drinking and not a pot head anymore, plus he looked happy). I figured why not, let’s try this. So we met up with friends at a local brewery and hit it off right away. He was nervous all night, but gathered enough courage to kiss me in the parking lot. Months go by and I get let go from my job in the city. Crushed and wounded I stayed at his place for a few days and then he later surprised me with a trip to Nashville. We had a great time and still to this day, it was the best vacation I ever had. We come home and get into our first big fight over something I said that insulted him. He didn’t talk to me for 4 days. We attempted to break up, and just as I was about to walk away he pulled me in, kissed me and apologized. We were golden up until the next fight rolled around and then another and another. I tried to talk through our problems and stressed that communication was key. Our problems were small and easy to fix, but to him they would only keep growing and become a huge strain on the relationship. A few months ago, I felt this distance between us. I asked him in advance to join me for dinner with friends, but last minute he ditches me. He was sick, which I knew he couldn’t control. So I was understanding and I said I’d stop by after dinner to say “hi” since I was down the street. He told me he was going out with his roommate and then going to bed right after. I became upset because if he wasn’t well enough to see me, why could he go out with his friend. I confronted him and he ignored me then the next day texted me the typical, “we need to talk.” That night we broke up in my driveway in his car. I was crushed, but knew it wasn’t going to last anyhow. In time I realized that we both sabotaged the relationship because I needed someone grounded and mature and he needed a drinking buddy to dick around. I wanted a partner and he wanted a party hopper. I had goals and his sole goal was to remain the same, to “coast through life,” as he put it. 

Not exactly a few sentences, but whatever.. I tried. Immediately after the breakup I started watching what I was eating and working out 6 days a week. I lost 7 pounds, my skin cleared up from drinking less alcohol and sugar and I’ve never been happier with my body. I’d be lying though if I said there weren’t days where I don’t miss talking to him. He tried to reach out a month after, but it was too soon and I didn’t answer. I ran into him at my favorite coffee place and we acted like we didn’t know each other, which was rough. To go from best friends to strangers is the worst feeling. 

Now I’m back to being single and I feel like all my friends are moving forward and pursuing these amazing guys that came out of the wood works and I can’t even get a guy to respond to me on bumble. Come Monday, everyone on my marketing team is going to ask why we are getting messages from Inner Circle, the dating app. All signs will point to me because I’m the only single girl on my team... I guess all I can say is April Fools, everyone. My dating life is a joke. Clearly. 

[bitterrants]

Today’s going to be grand...

It’s election day and honestly it’s been a long countdown. I cannot wait for social media to go back to normal for the next four years. I am honestly nauseated from this stupid fucking election. I’m tired of reading about Hillary being corrupt and Trump being a racist. 

Besides the election, today has been a weird, weird day. My center of balance has been way off today. It all started when I went to get my coconut creamer out of the fridge at work for my coffee and a Vitamin Water shot out like a bazooka, crashed on the floor and exploded all over my Zara shoes. Half the office heard me scream like a little bitch and I’m not exaggerating. I fucking screamed like a pussy in a horror film. It was NOT that big of a deal, but it slipped out and now I’ll have to live with myself after having that happen at work. When I went to grab a paper towel, the holder fell, the paper towel ripped off and I dragged the towel through the dirty sink water by accident and got the dirty water all over my sweater. The cleanup of the 5 minute coffee break turned disaster took 20 minutes. I ended up missing the pre-sales meeting with my supervisor and team leaving me clueless during our sales meeting. 

I told myself, forget the crime scene with the Vitamin Water in the kitchen and focus on what needs to get done. I made a list and it looked extremely overwhelming, but I took task after task thinking I could handle it. I was wrong. I couldn’t even handle coffee today... How was I supposed to handle site tours, marketing flyers and my daily tasks at work? The day was long and I had many unfortunate encounters and clumsy moments, especially with a broker from Manhattan. It’s always great getting yelled at for things you don’t know. I knew when I saw his name flash on my phone I was like “uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck.” I answered as cheerful as possible and he started up his verbal abuse. I quickly answered his stupid fucking questions and hung up, mumbling “asshole.” 

At around 5 PM, the office heated up to 80 degrees because a broker walking by tampered with the central air. Everyone went from shivering to sweating profusely. It was then that I decided it would be a great time to run around like a crazy person to get books together for the Co Founder for a 9 AM tour tomorrow (I had forgotten and there seemed to be no urgency). My boss ended up helping me, which was awesome because she helped me fix a few little errors I would have missed. The books were done at 5:45 PM and I handed them to the Co Founder and he said “Thanks so much!” as I responded “No problem!” By that time, I had enough time to make a quick little edit to a marketing flyer and then I packed up my shit and ran to the car to get home to vote. 

I picked up my mom to vote and as soon as we walked in to the voters room of the library in town, I saw my classmates’ dad, whom I hate. He awkwardly smiled at me and my mom as he sat with his legs crossed, pant leg up, showing his pasty, shiny, white legs. I was in between meals and did not want to talk to anyone at that time, especially not him. I quickly grabbed my ballot, voted, entered my ballot into the machine and received a “great job!” from this really tiny, sweet, old lady. After that, we saw this questionable gay guy with a swagger or a “maybe I just had back surgery” walk towards us to go inside the building. We ran home where I had some much deserved beers, 2 stuffed acorns (where I knocked over all my mom’s bread pans trying to heat the food up) and then resided in front of the TV for the results of probably the most ridiculous election. 

Now it’s 12:30 AM and I had planned to go to bed early, but I’m scared for who I’ll wake up to as president tomorrow. I’m so beat from today. There’s more shit that happened, but I’m too tired to type. I guess I’ll go to bed and either be a kid waking up on Christmas day or a kid waking up to a bomb scare tomorrow depending on who wins the election. 

[bitterrants]

Seance

I’m outside. It’s freezing and dark. The trees in front of this huge white brick mansion caste strange and unsettling shadows across the pristine lawn. With very little outdoor lights, we stumbled toward the house. Gabe and I sneak in through the basement window. I have my plastic light saber in hand with the light off and Gabe is carrying a “grenade whistle” aka the horn soccer fans use during a game and a flash light. We come across this large girl dressed in all black. I put the light saber on and smack her across the face. She drops like a sack of potatoes. We walk upstairs and see that the house is fairly empty. Cold and dark like the outside appearance, with a hint of warmth from the yellow tinted paint of the walls. We run into more people upstairs lurking around this house in all black. We jump at each other like animals in defense and then quickly realize that we are all in this house for a similar cause... to take down the owner, who was this 8 foot tall man with Irish features. Towering over most people, he had light blonde hair with freckles, strong physique like a basketball player and a wide grin like the joker. We stand in a circle and commence a seance to bring this person down because apparently he’s running for mayor or something. Holding hands people chant, but I’m not sure exactly why or how people know this chant. Out of nowhere Gabe started playing the horn as I smacked the open end to change the notes. I smack too hard and Gabe chokes back his hard blown air. He’s playing pep rally songs normally played by bands at high school football games. Then through the small arched opening to the room, a large Irish man walks through in head-to-toe Mardi Gras party accessories, with his hands slightly up he yells “vote for me, fuckers!” Everyone starts laughing and dancing. Gabe and I are cracking up at the fact that he was choking on his own air from the horn and then before I know it, I wake up. 

[bitterrants]

Dim Tim

I forgot to mention, in my last two posts that I dated a huge D-bag from my old college that I met via Tinder for 4 months. He basically used me while he was bored in between jobs and then dumped me after he landed a high pay job in Manhattan so he could focus on his new role. Total dick. But I’ll have to save that for another time...

[bitterrants]

Starbucks

I have less than 10 minutes before the man-friend gets to Chipotle before I have to meet him. I’m waiting in line at Barnes & Noble Starbucks (which is never the same). This large Asian lady with the thickest mustache I have ever seen on a woman is waiting to get her sweet fix in line before me. The only barista working is throwing fucking straws, pumpkin spice remnants and ice cubes in the air trying to prepare some bitch’s drink who is too impatient to wait 3 extra minutes for a coffee. The poor barista explains “I’m sorry, I’m the only one working here. It’ll be one more minute.” The bitch replies “This is unacceptable.” I’m standing there thinking “Seriously.. Where the fuck do you have to be in a hurry, you’re wearing pirate hooker boots and fucking leggings with a dumb ass belt. I know for damn sure you’re not going to work like that, train wreck.” Twat Waffle gets her coffee and storms out. Mustache is up, and I had a feeling what she was going to order after watching her press her ‘stache and sideburns up against the glass showcase of diabetes. She orders 3 different slices of pie to stay and a frap drink. When asked if she wants whipped cream, I look at the barista like “what the fuck do you think? No, at whipped cream she draws the line on her sugar intake. The bitch just ordered like every pie you carry, OF COURSE she’ll take the whipped cream.” And just like that, she says “Yes. Whip Cream.” So Chubs gets her plate of pies and her drink and then it’s my turn... Twenty minutes later, but I digress. The barista apologized again for the wait and I responded “No worries!” with a hint of passiveness. Then she asked for my order, which I told her, “Venti Cold Brew with Soy” and my name “Steph” to avoid her spelling out my entire first name.. Nine letters is a fuck ton if you ask me. S T E P H A N I E. My order’s always EASY, but was it worth it? Yes, because I turned into a crack addict back at the office and got more work done in an hour than in my entire day yesterday. So.. Mission accomplished.

[bitterrants]

It’s been awhile...

So the last time I wrote I was heartbroken over a Navy Seal, working three shitty part time jobs and consumed by self loathing. Well, I can honestly say a lot does happen in a year. So here it goes...

The not-so-great events that occurred this year are as followed: my ex boyfriend was deployed to Iraq, a freshly plucked Navy Seal from training, my sister separated from her drug and alcohol abusive husband, I landed an amazing corporate job working in Manhattan, lost the most important person in my life, my Nana and got laid off from my not-so-amazing corporate job in Manhattan. 

By the end of January, I had landed an impossibly unobtainable job working for a huge organization in Manhattan for a very famous figure in the business and real estate world. I thought to myself, “wow, I can’t believe I get to travel every day into the city working in the coolest building.” Little did I know that it was going to turn out to be the hardest and most ridiculous job I ever had, but my Nana prayed hard for me to get this position. So I thought, I have to try my best...and fuck, did I. I came to work early, I left late, I worked through lunch and sometimes missed my train and had to walk around for an hour in order to take the 7:45 PM train to Locust Valley. My supervisor, aka Satan did not care for my extra efforts and 3 months into my position, her expectations went from very little to very high. So high, in fact, that it was impossible to satisfy her. I was doing my job and her job because she was rarely in the office. I had never worked in a position like this one before. 

I felt that with the little training I had (and by training I mean a post-it on a stack of papers saying “do this”) I thought I was doing pretty well. I was producing three times the amount of work I had agreed I would be doing, but the joke was on me because Satan was not happy with anything I presented her or did. She had only been working at the company 6 months more than I had. She didn’t care much for my past experience or anything really about me. She just needed a bitch slave to bark orders at so she didn’t have to do her own job. Basically, my training was like the blind leading the blind. In the end, I was set up to fail. She extended my “probation period” which to be honest, I didn’t even know I was under probation. Apparently, three months into the position at this company marked the end of the probation period. She extended the bullshit period to an extra month and then just when I was about to celebrate four months at the company she ripped the rug out from under me. I had made “countless” mistakes (even though she could only name one), but I was human with no training. Of course that was going to leave room for error. She called me into her office after a long day at work, told me the bad news and let me go with no explanation. When she tried to hug me, I caved regretfully. I never wanted to be in such close proximity to her. She smelled like a cat lady and had the smile of a sinner who harvested childrens’ souls in order to live youthfully. She was, by far, the worst supervisor I ever had. She cared more about getting hammered on the weekends and keeping her marriage alive than her job and anyone else’s feelings. 

Every once in awhile, my former coworker, Brigitte will snapchat pictures of Satan and her at my old workplace and it makes me sick to my stomach. It makes me sad because I never felt good enough working there, but also I felt like I let my Nana down by losing the job. 

Satan gloated that she got her vacation days approved (right before she fired me) to go to France with her husband. After, I said my goodbyes, I packed up my things, cried walking to the door with Brigitte, handed in my ID and never returned. I’ve never felt like such a failure before until that day and it still stings to look back. 

All summer I was “funemployed” applying for jobs, meeting with recruiters, looking up job postings on my own, interviewing with companies I really liked, but nothing stuck. So I thought, why am I killing myself to work. I should just take the summer off and actually enjoy the beautiful weather that lies ahead, which I did. I went to the beach a ton, went on hikes, worked out at the kickboxing gym I belong to, went to concerts, went to Nashville. I had an amazing summer. 

Something else happened this summer. I reconnected with an old friend from my rowing days, Anker. But before I get into that, I have to start from the beginning.... So, when I was working in the city I was a serial dater, using Tinder and Bumble like a side job. I went on dates every week with a different guy. I dated a guy I nicknamed “Boring Brendan,” another I named, “San Fran Jacob,” “Unavailable Sean” and a bunch of other randoms I grabbed drinks with here and there. All these guys were dating fails. They either showed little interest, only wanted sex, conversation sucked, or like “Boring Brendan,” who I drank heavily around to tolerate, there just was no spark. 

Back to Anker. I formally met him when I was at the ripe age of 16. From afar he was the typical rich boy jock, or so I thought. I always knew of him because I am friends with his younger cousin, Schief, who I practically grew up with because her aunt is best friends with my sister. Confusing... I know. Anker and I matched on Bumble right around the time I was on a date with “San Fran Jacob.” I showed up late for the date because Satan had me working late on a renovation project and wouldn’t let me leave, but I didn’t really care because this guy didn’t seem that interested anyways, but I went. We went to District Tap House, which was my go-to date spot. Great beer, dim lighting to hide my haggardness from being overworked and close to Penn Station (triple whammy). Right off the bat, “San Fran Jacob” hated me. I was 45 mins late and just when he thought he was going to get stood up I come storming in, knocking my chair over, struggling to put my bag somewhere. He was probably thinking “Great, another fucking weirdo.” After our several failed attempts at sparking conversation to find a common interest we both knew “PASS” was on our minds. 

I messaged Anker on the train ride home and told him the date was a dud and I was the worst at dating. He told me it wasn’t me, it was them. I’m not really sure what happened next or how it happened, but slowly I started falling for him. He had this big heart and romantic side of him that I never knew. His compassion was unlike any guy I’ve ever met. So weeks of talking, cracking jokes and reminiscing go by and I decide to invite him out to a local brewery one weekend with his cousin and a bunch of my friends. We had some beers, played jenga, but before we knew it, it was 11 PM and our friends ended up leaving because it was getting late. We closed out the bar and decide to go grab some food. We talk in my car for a bit before driving to KFC for a late night snack. We ate in KFC’s sketchy parking lot and then I drove him back to his car at the brewery parking lot. I pull up to his car and we talk some more. Before we knew it, the clock said 2 AM. He said that night, his music playing through my car gave him extra confidence. He knew his time was running out before we had to end the night and he quickly leaned in and kissed me. After that he visited me in the city for real dinner dates and we hung out every weekend. He’d beg me to sleep over even when he knew we were both tired and would sleep better apart, but that “wanted” feeling was something I never really had. 

When I was let go by Satan, he was the first one I called. I cried to him and told him I was a failure. He said I wasn’t a failure, that the job was impossible and I would be better off finding a job I truly love and enjoy. He let me come over his place that night, on a Thursday, to vent and sleep over. He hugged me, rubbed my feet and listened to me all night even though he still had work the next morning. 

Months passed and he surprised me with a trip to Nashville, a place I had been dying to go to for years. He planned the whole thing and even made a google doc called “Stephy and Anker Take on Nashville” with ideas of places to eat, drink, dance and sites to see. It was honestly the best trip I had ever been on. We stayed at a “Home Away” apartment right in 12 South, a quiet college town during the summer. The food, drinks, and sites were amazing. 

As amazing as Anker and I seemed, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. We had our ups and downs, but I strongly believed he was a perfect fit for me. Relationships aren’t easy and people who say they are, don’t know shit.

So fast forward to August, the fun in the expression “funemployment” had grown tired. It wasn’t fun when I had to dip into my savings to pay my bills and I was 4 months away from being booted from my parents health insurance. Luckily, my recruiter found a position 25 mins from my house and in the field I studied, Marketing, ironically down the road from Anker’s job. It seemed like fate had a plan all along. I went on the interview at the end of August and met with this young interviewer, who was cousins with an old classmate. We hit it off immediately and she hired me the next week after I met one of the cofounders. I felt amazing, having landed a job only 2 months after losing the last one. 

Honestly, this has been one of the best jobs I’ve ever had. It’s a young startup company in retail real estate and the projects we’re working on keep me interested and it definitely makes things exciting. Everyone in the office is really easy to get along with and it’s just a much happier environment than my last job. I’d like to think my Nana had something to do with it. She always prayed for her grandkids to be taken care of and when I lost the other job I felt I would have let her down if she had been alive to see it. Not even a week into that job, she died. I found out about her passing as I was leaving late from work. I broke down in the street talking to my mom on the phone. She told me Nana died in the hospital after she fell and found out her blood was septic. To relive that horrible day and heart wrenching few month brings me to tears every time. I’ll miss her every day of my life. Satan didn’t even let me take any time off for her wake and funeral. My mom said it was a good thing to work because it kept my mind off of it, but I would have preferred to cry at home in bed rather than in the bathroom at work every other hour. I resented that job for taking me away from my family and keeping me from saying my last goodbye to Nana. I’d like to think she’s getting sloshed with Grandpa in a better place, drinking her favorite Manhattans. 

I’d like to catch up on everything that’s been happening with my friends, but I’m running out of steam. To sum it up in a few sentences... Schief moved in with her boyfriend Ian and bought a demo house. Flow landed the job of her dreams, bought a jetski, got a jeep wrangler, was dating the IT guy from work, but then he broke up with her while she was in Greece with Piety. Now she’s living the single life, which has its ups and downs, but she’s only getting her feet wet when she needs to dive. Piety and her long term college boyfriend broke up after she ended things, then she reconnected with her high school sweetheart, Ken. Ken moved to San Francisco indefinitely, but they are still dating trying to make the LDR work. Mags landed a higher position job at Michael Kors and moved in with her much older boyfriend in Savannah, Georgia, but her parents don’t know about him because she’s scared to tell them. Her brother found out and was furious, but is slowly getting over it. Jackie has now filed for divorce and has been working for over a year in the city for the President of NYIT who is being forced into retirement. She renovated and moved into the house next door and has used and abused Tinder to become a worse serial dater than I ever was. (This is taking longer than a few sentences). Gabe has turned into a typical frat guy, with a different girl in his bed every night, praying for college to be over so he can be in the working world (no clue WHY). Dane moved to Cali and then moved back home. Kyle is just Kyle and always wants to dance. Paul had a seizure, but is okay and still in love with his ex, who hooked up with another dude at Oyster Fest. Silka is a full time graduate student in the speech pathology department at Molloy and is currently dating our old coworker Nick, who gets weirdly jealous of every guy Silka knows. Brooklyn is trying to mend things in regards to her relationship with her boyfriend, who is too time consuming for her own good. She is also a part time graduate student while working full time in the dance department at a middle school in the Bronx. Amanda and I had a huge falling out around the time of my 25th birthday, when I asked to hang out without the kids one night to catch up. She blew up in my face after I congratulated her on the birth of her new baby. Haven’t spoken to her since I wished her a ‘happy birthday’ in June. Kevork moved in with her boyfriend in Brooklyn, who I just met and can’t decide if I like him or not. He seems arrogant and pretentious, but if she’s happy I guess that’s all that matters. I guess that’s about it.... Now that it’s 11 PM I’ve run out of time to watch the end of Stranger Things. I guess I’ll be heading the bed then. Night!

[bitterrants]

Those annoying late night thoughts...

It’s taking every bit of control I have left to not text him. He’s probably busy. Maybe he’s working. He could be with his classmates. He hasn’t settled in to his new place yet. Just relax. It’s not the end of the world that you haven’t heard from him in a couple days. He was with his family. And you were working all weekend. You have a life too. These are some of the thoughts that crowd my mind and I can’t seem to shut them off. The little internal voice that is telling me I’m weak for feeling this way and thinking like this. Yeah, that bitch needs to shut up. I hate feeling unimportant, insignificant and forgotten. Nothing hurts more than when the one you care about is ignoring you or doesn’t have the time for you. And I guess it’s my fault. I shouldn’t care so much. We’re not in a relationship. This is what I would care relationship limbo. The feelings are there as well as the distance but the timing is off. I used to be so independent. I never cared what a man was doing and thinking when I wasn’t with him but maybe that’s because those guys I didn’t actually care about. 

How is it that every guy says, it’s the women that hold so much power in the relationship and yet I feel like the ball is always in his court. He has the upper-hand. I am the one who’s sitting on her bed watching SNL while skimming through Elite Daily articles discussing reasons a guy is or isn’t into you. These articles will be the death of me. I hate them, but love them. 

Whatever, he can do what he pleases. I just hate that whenever I start to move on and start dating again, a little alarm goes off in his brain that says, “Better swoop in and make sure she hasn’t forgotten me.” Not like I could I feel like I’m constantly reminded. EVERYTHING reminds me of him. So there’s no escaping. I need a legitimate vacation. I can’t be on Long Island and be exposed to all the same places we went to. It’s bad enough that every time I turn on the radio and hear a sappy Ed Sheeran song I end up feeling like a bag of shit. I think I need to reintroduce exercise into my life because eating isn’t cutting it. I just end up regretting the mound of food I ate immediately after shoving it into my face. It’s only 9:50 and I’m already contemplating if I should just go to sleep, just so I can shut my brain off. Let’s give it a go because these thoughts and my mood are just going to start to bring me down further and then we can say hello to ice cream and brownies.

[bitterrants]

-_-

I won’t be able to go to bed or at least read my book (The Pieces We Keep) until I word vomit all over this tumblr post. Today was just long and that’s about the only word I can use to describe it. Every day, I have high points and low points. My high point was seeing an old friend, Ray this morning, getting coffee, and driving around Oyster Bay taking photos of the wreckage from Hurricane Joaquin for a local newspaper. My low point was having to deal with this middle aged asshole at the store I work at. 

We’re just about to close out the store. Customers are still walking around with their thumb up their ass trying to figure out if they should impulse buy even though the store is practically closed. And no joke this fucking pain in the ass, hefty brow, annoying motherfucker VPS (Very Personal Stylist) calls for a stock check (I worked stock today rather than sales) when I am standing right next to her. I turned to her after she called for me and was like “I’m right here...” and she literally walkied me right after I asked her to move so I could get something by her leg. So I know she saw me. POS (Piece of Shit) says “Well I didn’t know.” Don’t play dumb, fucker. You knew as well as I did that I was upstairs. You’re just that wrapped up in your own asshole to notice what’s occurring around you. Then after the store closes her and our manager who didn’t do anything to help close out the store are gabbing on and on about NONSENSE. Then she proceeded to make fun of me and how I talk... Lady, you have no fucking idea how much everyone hates you. You are the Helen of Bridesmaids and the Regina George of Mean Girls. So fuck you...fuck you so hard. She fucks up constantly and no one reprimands her except for me and that’s why we lock horns. 

Closing the store took forever. I don’t like being put up to a challenge when the challenge is close to impossible and no one cares if it gets done or not. It’s frustrating to be set up for failure and that’s how I feel working at this place. Customers ripped apart our store and the one manager closing only cared about getting out of there by 7. We left so many clothes out that needed to be put away and if it wasn’t for me emptying out the fitting rooms I don’t think anyone would have done it. I need to be working at a place where I am truly appreciated or where at least people value hard work and hardworking people. I need to work at a place that is organized and functional rather than dysfunctional and chaotic; where the boss stays on top of his employees rather than showing up over an hour late every day and only caring about his employees when it suits him or when he wants to put his frustration on his own miserable life onto others. Is that too much to ask... 

[bitterrants]

Loner Boner

Dating in the last decade has gone from worse to impossible. I went on a date 2 weeks ago, sort of an obligatory date because he seemed nice and my sister, Jess is good friends with his sister. I figured, why not, it can’t hurt. He reached out to me on Facebook after my sister had given his sister my name to seek me out. We hit it off and casually talked for about a week before he asked me out. I had to basically ask myself out because he didn’t really know how to properly ask a girl out. We ended up going to dinner and then drinks at a beach bar afterwards. It turned out to be a really great date. The conversation was good, but I couldn’t seem to find anything in me that wanted to jump him. There just was no spark. As much as it would have been easier to pick the nice guy with a full time job, who seemed to have his shit together, I couldn’t force it. It’s ridiculous to think that love at first sight exists, because I believe lust at first sight exists and there was none of that with this guy. 

It’s always hard to move on and try to date other guys when you’re still somewhat fixated on the last guy you had gone out with. I don’t normally fall hard for guys either, which makes the process of dating even more frustrating. I’ve seen girls, close friends of mine who fall so incredibly hard and fast that after sleeping with the guy they are completely devastated to find out the guy wasn’t all that interested to begin with. To protect myself, I try not to let it get to that point. 

The point of this post though is to talk about why texting and why guys always seem to fuck it up when they know they have a catch. Guys, you shouldn’t text a girl right after the date unless....nope just don’t do it. You should really say IN PERSON (which I know probably frightens you) “Thank you for tonight. I had a great time.” Maybe, you can add, “Can I see you again sometime?” Unless I’m extremely horny I won’t kiss on the first date if it’s the first time I’m meeting you. Maybe I seem prude, but girls who go around macking it with every single boner in their direction seem desperate and most guys don’t want a desperate girl. 

Guys, also, if you are horny, fine, but keep it to yourself. I don’t need late night texts from you after only one date or maybe two saying, “Come lay in bed with me” and “Come over and snuggle” or just “Come over.” I’m not your dog so I don’t respond to commands. You want to get off, say hello to your right hand because if you are dating a good girl fat chance she’ll want to peel herself out of bed after a long day at work to go over to your smelly apartment to “watch Netflix” aka “Feel Me Up While (Insert Underrated Movie) Plays In The Background.” If we’re in a relationship, that would be different, but if you’re a gentleman and you want to see your lady then ask her out properly. Since when did romance and courting someone become out of style because I say we bring it back. 

[bitterrants]

9%....

[bitterrants]

I literally can’t. No, seriously..

I have to type this post fast because I have 16% battery life left on my laptop and with Apple products 16% can go from “Oh I have time..” to “But I had time!!” in a matter of seconds. Now that the Tiger Balm is kicking in my motor skills are slowly starting to come back. I am so unbelievably sore from kickboxing last night that I could barely point to a spot on the wall my Dad missed from painting this afternoon. And to make matters worse, eating today wasn’t as enjoyable when every slight lift of my hand to my mouth put me in completely agony. Right now I’m debating reading because I don’t think I can lift my arms up to hold the book. 13 hours of working tomorrow is going to be so much fun. See, now I’m at 12% battery life. Fuck you, Apple. 

I haven’t worked out in probably a month besides the little 1.5 mile runs I have here and there. They don’t count when the end goal is to shove your face once you step foot in the door afterwards. My body is officially broken. I can’t go without working out and then back to working out like this after so much time has passed. I should really put more effort into finding a full time job than trying to figure out a plan to get my jeans to fit again. 

Just this weekend alone I will be working 40 hours. That’s insane. And with little to no breaks during the day, I’m going to be such an angel to be around. I’ll be lucky if I can shove any kind of food in my mouth in the car driving from one job to the next. It’s not going to be enjoyable and especially not now that I’ve temporarily damaged my muscles and have the motor skills of a geriatric patient. 

It’s 8:42 pm and this melatonin pill is slowly starting to work its magic, so I bid you good evening....peasants. 

[bitterrants]

The Party From Hell.

There’s always that one obligatory party you go to because your good friend is throwing it and let’s face it, you had nothing better to do that night anyways. 

Last weekend, my friend [Pete] threw a house party. His parties are always the same with the same people. At least I know what to expect. I guess? I arrived late because after I realized that watching Mona Lisa Smile alone in an old yellow robe, drinking red wine was not an acceptable way to spend your Saturday night, I had to get out.

I pulled up and immediately felt the hangover kick in from the red wine I had drank prior to arriving. It hit me like a tsunami. I walk in and immediately see the one person I didn’t want to see, the “Karen” of the group. She embraces me in an unwanted hug and immediately starts talking about high school and our jobs. I’d rather talk about my regular bowel movements than work and high school. “Oh, well you know, softer than usual. Might be all the fruit I’m eating. #HealthyLiving. HAHA.”  

My loving friend [Jess] was there and she had brought her new man friend, who ended up spilling wine all over me by flipping his cup purposely in the air and didn’t even offer to help me clean it up. Instead he laughed at me, which wasn’t exactly the best first impression. 

Then Pete’s sister came into the kitchen when I’m trying to talk to Jess and starts blasting music, which only made my head throb more. I unintentionally made a face. She saw and came up to me and said “Fuck you, bitch. Don’t hate my music.” I didn’t hate the music, I loved it. It was the volume I couldn’t stand. Then she proceeded to scream the lyrics in my face while I stood awkwardly not knowing what to do because any sudden movements might have made my head explode. You could say my RBF (Resting Bitch Face) was at an all time high. She kept calling me “bitch” jokingly, but still it was super offensive. I don’t care if you’re a dude or a girl, don’t call me “bitch” because I will punch you in the genitals. 

The music is still blasting and Jess’s new guy is talking to us both about working in Manhattan as a police officer and about all the homeless people there, which really brought down the mood of the party even more. It’s not enough that I got wine spilled on me, was called a bitch, but now I have to get ear fucked by the guy who wouldn’t shut up about how we shouldn’t feel sorry for the homeless because most of them are “horrible fucking people.” It was definitely not an ideal topic discussion at a house party. He came off as bitter with no sign of compassion in him. 

After that horrible discussion, “Karen” tried to rub my forehead because of the headache and then escorted me outside to sit around the fire pit. At that point, I wanted nothing more than to leave and I could see my car from the front yard. This was my chance to run. She basically talked without any interruption from me for an hour on why her coworkers are sexist. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. The fire was making me twitch and squint because of how bright it was to my sensitive eyes. She finally stopped talking and I was able to slip away, but not unnoticed. Everyone started hugging me goodbye. One of my guy friends picked me up and gave me the biggest hug, which made me feel better for going to this party. 

Then I went inside to say goodbye to the host, Pete. He was so wasted he picked me up in a hug and bashed my elbow into the wall because he could barely stand and fuck did it hurt. As I’m trying to say goodbye to one of my friends, [Dave], Pete comes up behind me and picks me up again, shaking me while grabbing my boobs. I ended up staying an extra hour to talk to Dave who told me I had never looked so sexy. I laughed in his face. I’ve been called “cute,” but never sexy. I was flattered until he told me to unbutton my shirt and show some cleavage and then quickly after that I said goodbye to Jess and the Cop and ran out. 

I was so disgusted and not prepared to get hit on by one of my oldest friends who told me to unbutton my shirt. That just gives guys an excuse to stare at my boobs. They’re fine where they are, hidden, but thanks for the suggestion. NOT.

[bitterrants]

Should-ing is pathetic. I’m aware.

There is a never ending list of things I SHOULD be doing right now and I’m not. I should be tweaking my resume for the hundredth time. I should be scanning my negatives to put on my online portfolio. I should buy a domain for my name for my online portfolio. I should be busting down company doors in the city so I can get an interview. I should be more aggressive with my current job. I should be cleaning up my work space that looks like a shit hole right now. But right now I’m bra-less watching 30 Rock on Netflix. I’m closing in on the first season and I’m obsessed, but this isn’t going to help me get a job. Netflix is the enemy. I used to never be a procrastinator. I was that annoying person in school that started a project as soon as it was given to me because I figured let’s get this hell over with now rather than the day before when I’m up to my butt hole in studying material for finals. 

Applying for jobs and trying to sell yourself as the best thing since the cellphone is close to impossible because let’s face it full time jobs are scarce and the competition is growing. How can I compete now with recent college grads who have several internships under their belt when most of us have to work our way through college. It isn’t fair and that’s life. I’m not trying to get a sympathy vote. It’s reality. I had to work to afford my education. My parents are great for helping me pay for some of it, but I had to pay for my school supplies, gas and food, which put my bank account in the red more times than I can remember. 

It would nice if at least one part of my life was going well. My dating life is dead besides a forced date I’m going on tomorrow set up by my sister (which is probably the most pathetic type of date I’ve ever agreed to). My friends are all excelling in their fields and I’m at a stand still. Yes, I should be putting myself out there both in the dating world and in the working world. Tweaking my resume and sprucing up my cover letters isn’t really getting me the results I want. As for the dating world, Tinder was a bust and I finally deleted it for good. I’m sick of guys saying shit like, “sit on my face” and “send nudes.” I told my friend last night about a guy I had been talking to awhile ago, who was very persistent in asking for nudes that I sent him a picture of my belly button. His response? “Sexy.” Sure wasn’t sexy. 

Sometimes I wish I had the confidence these “Tit Pic Beggars” have. I would probably get what I want more often than not. I applaud you for asking. You have bigger balls than most and at least you know what you want.