Category: Beyonce

I HAte Texas!

12/15/2016

A recent trip I took to Houston could be described as “click bait”. If something bad happened, it did. There was not much that didn't occur. There were emotional breakdowns (crying, phone calls to mothers) lost (stolen?) credit cards, spicy coffee, and good water pressure.

My reason for a trip to Houston during the school year was in order to obtain my student visa. I will be fleeing the country and spending 5 months in sunny Barcelona (assuming the visa actually pulls through). The Spanish consulate assists that you apply in person, hence the visit to Houston, Texas. It is one of the most cosmopolitan cities in Texas and they do have a revolving restaurant, so who am I to question that assertion.

Me and my partner took a Greyhound bus in an effort to shave $200 from our trip cost. It was one of the worst decisions of my life. There was the crystal meth head passenger who not only had burn marks on his face but also placed an order for the “crystal” on his cellular device. At one point he was convinced we stole his seat. It was a joy that culminated in us missing our connecting bus in Dallas.

It's 4:30 in the morning and we make the decision to go to the McDonald's across the street instead of waiting in the bus terminal for 3 hours. A smart plan. A wise plan. There were four teenagers hanging out in line for no reason?? They don't serve french fries at 4:00 in the morning? A big W.T.F. The hot chocolate machine was broken. The black coffee tasted burnt??? It was the twilight zone. We made this gif????

This should have been the low point of the trip. We arrive in Houston, three hours late. The way we had everything planned out, everything was in walking distance. Needless to say a ½ mile in the pouring rain is a a ½ mile too long. This adventure involved wheeling luggage over rushing streams, drinking spicy coffee from a freakishly quiet coffee house, and seeing the Menil collection who's beauty was tained by the oppressive snobbery (a trademark of the metropolitan Houston area).

There were high points. Take our boutique lodging, Hotel Derek. We had a cow print wall across the street, solid water pressure from the shower head, a comfortable bed, and a photo shoot aesthetic.

We had dinner at a pricey (but worthwile) Tapas bar. The actual visa was an EXPERIENCE. It was a continuation of our protracted day. The three hour process involved a 1.1 mile walk to Walgreens, tears, and complications, but we emerged victorious.

Houston, Texas is a city I never want to return to. Flight layovers will be avoided The only thing that city ever did right was house the birthplace of Beyonce. And, yes they have a Neiman Marcus, but it takes more then that to truly make a city great.

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First Week Of SChool

9/15/2015

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Picture it. I was with the twins. I said to them that I didn't know what to write about for a What's Happening Wednesday. They told me why don't I write about school. I told them I may only have eight readers, but I try to be more interesting then that.

And, yet here I am.

I should preface that my well adjusted self (I had relatively few emotional breakdowns this summer in comparison to the school year) has crashed. Everything is falling apart and my life is a train wreck, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

On Sunday I was with the twins. The day before class starts. And, I was casually discussing the hate comment I received on my video “Tip Thy Waiter”. Both Joyce and Black have claimed it as my best. So this isn't actually related to my emotional breakdown at school, but I'm working there.

Needless to say, I showed them the comment. And, they saw the name of the person who commented and they said isn't that Waldo's real name. You see Waldo is his nickname. That's why I never put it together. I've seen Waldo on a few occasions, but we weren't friends. We also weren't enemies.

The worst part of discovering that my hater is someone I know means that I'm not famous. I'm also confused why he would say it. Waldo is everyone's timid boring next door neighbor bisexual. Honestly, I'm not sure how I was supposed to respond. You can use homophobic slurs all day long, and I'll be like #accurate. Apparently Waldo has been dating a nice boy who bags groceries. All this boy wants to do is have sex in the back of his car. And, my response to Waldo through the internet is to ask him whether it's a nice car or not.

I ran into someone that I kind of sort of liked. I never talked about it on the blog. It was an the end of the school year kind of thing. I thought I was over it. Of course I knew I wasn't and here I am typing out this article emotionally unhinged.

My first day look was the same one I wore on my trip to St. Louis with the twins. It was summery and bright. For some reason one of my fellow homosexuals decided to step his A game up. He's always had nice hair, just not the way he styled it. He has nice clothes, there just not put together well. Yet, here this little bitch is in my Detective Fiction class looking more then decent. What the fuck.

Let's not even talk about Math 106. That's not just a simple math class, but calculus based. Shout out to my math teacher for pointing that out. That is filed under information I didn't need to know.

Warner also didn't sit next to me. He sat next to this other boy who I'm sure is very nice, but what the fuck. He should have sensed that my aura is approaching and waited for me. I can be a very petty homosexual. Side note that I ended up sitting next to this girl who is so gorgeous it didn't matter that my outfit could have been in the pages of Teen Vogue I looked like a wet paper towel next to her. The girl was ***Flawless.

I also refused to acknowledge Warner in public. I'm petty. I like being texted first. I like being acknowledged first and I don't apologize. He didn't say hi to me until Thursday.

He's unobservant as fuck. I'm actually texting him right now and ignoring his message. To be fair I didn't see when he texted me this Monday until Wednesday. He said “Surprise Bitch!” and it took all my good will not to ask him why he was trying to be Emma Roberts.

We might have a volatile relationship. Let me correct that. One of my coworkers said I should drop this friendship and part of me agrees with that. But, as petty as I can be I know I'd miss him if I didn't talk to him.

Emma Roberts stars in the new Fox series Scream Queens that airs on Tuesdays.

I also went to the GSA meeting. This year I will be a proud member of the Gay Straight Alliance. Most importantly I will be active. I introduced myself as a Freshman Marketing Major. Multiple people had to tell me I was a sophmore. That was awkward. And, yes my favorite superhero is Green Lantern. Ryan Reynolds looked sexy as fuck in that movie.

That was a Wednesday. It was my last day with the twins. I got pulled over getting home. Hyperventilated, cried. The officer was very nice. Then, I got stuck in traffic for an hour and thirty five minutes where I occasionally shouted “WHY IS THE TRAFFIC SO BAD!”. It took twenty minutes to get through one light. On the bright side I did get to listen to the entirety of Sheryl Crow's Tuesday Night Music Club, so that was exciting.

Of course our plans were time sensitive. We were going to play trivia with our mothers. You may or may not know that our team name always has Beyonce it. One team's name was “We Are Always Beyonce”. Much like Warner they should have sensed our aura. We had of course not been to trivia recently. We'd been in St. Louis. Wisdom teeth (not mine) had been removed. Trivia had not been our plate.

BUT THESE LITTLE BITCHES STOLE OUR NAME.

I am not upset about this. Salty, perhaps. But, upset no. We lost terribly. They helped to not dilute our brand recognition. The questions were based on The Office. I know that John Krasinski is married to Emily Blunt that is the extent of my knowledge.

That was my week. Now I'm here typing, waiting to go see Joyce receive $10,000 for being an awesome student. I'm not kidding. That's the gist of it.

Until next time where hopefully my life involves more then school starting up.

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Wax On, Hair Off

7/8/2015

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I am here to educate you on the wonders of waxing your hair off. I had very hairy legs (had being the key word in this sentence). This kept me from wearing shorts in a hundred degree weather and I said to myself, “I'm fucking done with this”. I didn't feel sexy and I was like it is time to do this for me.

I bought some shorts from Forever 21. The only clothing store that makes clothes for people without curves. And, of course they were short as fuck. You go hard or you go home. It doesn't matter how skimpy they are when the only difference between outside and hell is the fact that you have a Popsicle, I will slut it up.

Now I took some advice from Cosmopolitan's article on hair removal. I wish I had the money to pay someone to rip the hair off my body, but tragically my slightly above minimum wage job doesn't support such luxuries when your trying to save money. Cosmo suggested the Sally Hansen Waxing Kit. It was only ten dollars and I said yes.

It was a good price and I would recommend using it. Joyce said she didn't like it, but I'm satisfied with the results. It was spa day for me. I turned on the new Florence and the Machine album How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful and sat down in the kitchen on some ratty towels and waxed away.

Now the box says a full body kit. One kit waxed one leg. Now mind you this was my first time doing it. I probably used too much wax. Wasted some solid strip space. Regardless I had to go out and buy another kit.

My hair wasn't done, but the outfit was on point. I dropped my check off at the bank. Then, I went out and picked up another one. I run into someone from high school at the checkout line. He tells me he likes my new hair color and I'm like fuck. My hair isn't did. He looked good. I suppose it was nice to catch up with him, but it was a slap in the face to not look on fleek when you go out. Not that I looked terrible.

Then, I said I'll get some gas. Ran into the Miss Sara Bellum's ex boyfriend. I didn't even wave. I got out. Pumped my gas. Opened my Vogue and waited for the pump to click. He's an obnoxious heterosexual male. I'm sure he didn't have time to notice my unkempt hair with me giving the side eye.

Finally got home. This time turned on Flo Rida's album Wild Ones and finished waxing. It's like shaving. You have to be a contortionist to get some of this areas. Behind my knee cap was a struggle. It was completely worth it. I can't lie to you and say it wasn't painful. It wasn't as bad as I expected. You hear horror stories and it wasn't a B-Rated horror flick at worst.

If you can't deal with the pain. Do small areas. Ripping off an entire strip of hair can be a struggle. Cut the strips down in size, so your not taking so much off at once. When I was doing smaller areas. I couldn't even feel it.

Now if you go with the Sally Hansen kit be forewarned that it's messy to get off. However, if your a poor college student like me, the time it takes to wash it off is most certainly worth it.

The twins loved it. I went out with them to a Trivia Night (Team name: Bed, Bath, & Beyonce) and I had on these Taylor Swiftesque blue spandex. Their mother said they were not allowed to go out dressed like that. To be fair if I had an ass it would have been hanging out. I looked flawless. My six inch wedges elongated my legs. A man whistled on me. I don't think he knew I wasn't female. So, that's awkward for him. I'm honestly just so glad I got slut shamed. Life goals accomplished.

The next time I wore shorts I was out with Sacajawea at my coworker's birthday celebration. Sacajawea loved my look. She said my shorts were shorter then hers (I swear they were the same length). Her mother wondered what I was wearing and she said with shorts like that she thought it was promiscuous to wear heels.

I didn't think it was the time to tell her about my wardrobe choices. The problem with Sacajawea and I going out in public together is that we both act like were under the influence of something without drinking. No one believed that we were sober the entire time.

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Essentially, I'm Cleopatra

10/1/2014

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I went on a camping trip recently. I keep calling it a camping trip. It wasn't a camping trip. It was a retreat. It had cabins. I stayed in a cabin.

It was freshmen retreat for this program I'm in, so that we can bond with each other. I did a really shitty job at actually bonding with people my own age. Go me. Mainly, I talked to three people I already knew and two of the seniors helping with the trip. Although, I'm not actually sure if she was a senior.

She wants to be an actress. Or at the very least she wants to act. The finer points of it escaped me. But, we shall call her the Actress. I'm definitely in love with her. She asked me if I wanted to work out with her. I don't know what about me made her think I was someone who worked out.

I didn't turn her down. I was like sure. If your going when I have a break between classes. Of course. Now, if she really was serious, I hope it is not labor intensive. I hope it's like let's all run at our own pace on the treadmill. My pace would be walking and it would be like a bonding moment. The other senior, I talked to was involved in this discussion as well. He's fantastic. I love him so much. And, he actually is going to work out with the Actress.

We'll come up with a name for him. I'm thinking Brick from the Rowdyruff Boys. We had a very enlightening conversation about Vogue. He said have you tried British or Italian Vogue. I don't speak Italian. So, no.

He says to me, if you know Spanish you can figure out Italian. You see I didn't take Spanish in High School and I barely passed French. I can't even begin to imagine me trying to reading French Vogue. I realize he's four years older then me, but it kills me that he has a firm enough grasp on another language to suggest reading a magazine in a foreign language. That will never be me.

I hope he doesn't hate me or dislike me. Granted he did allow me to pronounce his name horribly wrong without bitching me out about it. So, that's probably a good sign. And, when we went outside to get his cigarettes he did give me his blanket, because I was cold. I don't know why I'm so stressed out about it. I just don't want him to hate me.

Ignoring that. The trip itself. The food was okay. It wasn't great, but you know it was a weekend retreat. Where no one showered by the way. Now I did. But, I don't blame anyone who didn't. You see there wasn't a lock on the bathroom door and there was no real convenient way to get out of the shower without being totally naked.

I did not actually sleep in my bunk bed. I fell asleep at about 5:30 in the morning between the Burlesque Jenny Lewis and Brick. Actually, I wasn't between them. I was on the complete opposite side of Jenny. The semantics aren't important. We were late to breakfast. And, we were also taking a group picture that day. So, I had to look good. So, of course I took a shower. And was more then a half hour late to the breakfast that started at 8:00 in the morning.

I told you how Jenny has this beautiful make up she does. She did not do that, that Sunday morning. There was no way. She put on this big sunglasses to hide her face. God we all looked so ratchet that morning. It was like the walk of shame. My hair was everywhere and I was wrapped up in a blanket. It was rough.

There was no participation from me in any of that morning's activities. Otherwise known as Bazooka Ball (I don't support gun violence) and mud bathing. I am not a pig. This is not a spa. I don't see Reese Witherspoon.

I was so incredibly anti-social that morning. The only thing I really did was the canoeing. Three people could fit in one canoe, but there were only two paddles. When I saw a group of two going for that canoe. I latched onto them. I sat in the middle and let them row me around the lake. Essentially, I was Cleopatra on the Nile. I did not say a word to them. It was beautiful.

We also had to write letters of advice to ourselves to open in four years. I do not want to hear the advice from the current me in four years. I will probably have deleted this post in four years. People evolve. I don't think about middle school me. That wasn't just a ratchet time in my life it was catchet. My letter basically went “Hey, sexy bitch. You looking fucking fantastic.” Because, in four years I'll still want to be told I'm beautiful. It will be an uplifting moment. I really hope I don't have to read it aloud. I hope someone else doesn't read it aloud. That would be worse. At least if I read it I could censor it. All of this happened while I was listening to “Anaconda” of course, because what better inspiration could you have to write a letter to yourself.

I keep ignoring the day before. There was a lot of singing. I mean Disney songs. There's a point where you just have to say fucking let it go already. I blame all of this on the bonding moment that was walking the woods in the dark, with no flashlights, just the man who owned the campground leading us. I was petrified. It was terrible. Then, we had a campfire. Where I was accused of eating all the Oreos. I had three and a half. I hardly ate all the oreos. Come at me bitch. Come at me.

Dodge ball was also something we did. I enjoyed it actually. But, it wasn't the dodge ball part that I enjoyed. It was more the disco/ dodge ball combo. There were black lights, a disco ball, loud music. It was kind of everything. I got turnt. I did this very sexy move on the wall where I danced with myself, that was great. I just had a really sexy time where I called everything sexy. Oh, what a sexy potato that is, oh that child falling was sexy. There was really no rhyme or reason to me calling things sexy. God. I was so annoying.

That's not true. Yes it is. I was so annoying, but I wasn't close to the worst. There was this girl who was from California. Literally everything she said had that thrown in. The fruit here isn't as sweet as it is from California. It's because of how far you have to ship it.

Bitch maybe you should try getting fruit from Target instead of the gas station before you starting bitching about our fruit.
It's sixty degrees outside. Oh, my god it's so cold. I'm from California and it doesn't get that cold there.

Bitch. I lived in California most of my life. I lived in Southern California. It does get that cold. Kill yourself.

You know what I love about this place, is that I'm from California and all of you have accents.

Bitch. We are not your token black friend. Back the fuck up.

These are just the ones I remember. People were like why don't you like her. Because, she's so god damn annoying. Is she so basic that everything she says has to include, “I'm from California.” Go back there you factory reject dildo. Her parents are still in California. She's the one who chose to move out of her natural territory. Go back. We don't need you.

This is what I told her roommate when she asked me, why I didn't like her. And, I'm fairly sure California girl knows I don't like her. She kept giving me these dirty looks. I'm like that's right bitch. I don't like you.

At the end of all of it we had to do these surveys for the group leaders about what could be improved on our experiences. The whole time, I wanted to say get rid of California girl, but I held back. Because our president is all, we're a family, we take care of each other, we love everyone. There is forty of us. I hate to break your heart, but there's going to be people who don't want to be around each other.

I did resist temptation and at every turn. I was like get rid of this hike. I don't want it. Send it to California. Just don't put it near me.

There was even a scale of 1 to 5 for an overall quick summary. 5 sounded like I just saw Beyonce in concert. 4 sounded as if I was forced to go see TLC without Left Eye. So, in all good consciousness I could not put five down. So, I gave it a 4.8.

We were also forced into stating one thing we loved about the retreat. I felt so guilty. All these basic bitches were like that hike was the best. All the while I'm sitting there being like, I shot that down at every point on that survey. Sorry boos.

I am also sorry to that honey boo boo child, I shot down for her obsession with Taylor Swift and liking “Shake It Off” and being excited about 1989. I mean I do shamelessly own all of her albums and I'm probably going to buy it anyway.

So, you all can judge me. I know Brick did when I told him. He took his eyes off the road- we were on the freeway mind you- to give me the dirtiest look. I swear. He might be bitchier then me.

I think I've fond my soul mate.

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I HAte Texas!

First Week Of SChool

Wax On, Hair Off

Essentially, I'm Cleopatra

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