Murder mystery dinner parties are one of the most adult things you can do with your Halloween night that doesn't include appletinis and bobbing for pears in a tub of vodka. I got glammed up for an “affair to dismember.” My character was the wicked witch of the depressed. She was fashionable and most importantly she hated everyone. Needless to say she was the perfect fit for me. |
These stories ere on the side of the improbability. I like having sex on my broom a mile high? My field of poppy flowers is all for my heroin addiction. My husband is having sex with my mother. I slept with my best friend's fiancee and I'm having his babies. Twins (Hansel and Gretel) All I can say is that despite the suspicions thrown against me on pineapple pizza. Yes, it was my spell book. But, I didn't cast the spell and I didn't commit the murder and most importantly I wasn't thrown to the thronging mob outside the castle gates.
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It's not really my scene. A good night for me is pulling out an Olivia Newton-John vinyl. Watching some Simple Life reruns, maybe write a popping blog article or two. I don't really party.
I've been told by many people that my school has really good parties. Jenny really liked the foam party one of the student organizations hosted. People got really fucked up and Warner went to one of the fraternity glow parties and he said it was amazing.
The list of drugs he's done is extensive. I think the really question is what drugs hasn't he done. In other news the current art project he's working on includes lots of dicks. After all who doesn't like a big dick in the morning. Am I right?
He also smokes. I love the smell of cigarettes, so other then the fact that he's low key going to die young, I think that's sexy. He asked me if I wanted a cigarette just to hold. For a moment I thought I was in The Fault In Our Stars.
Something has happened recently. Or I have been informed of something that might happen recently. I just don't know how I feel about it. At all.
A few weeks ago I did a Tasty Tuesday article entitled “Home Alone”. I was left at home all by myself in the great form of Eric Carmen, because my parents went up to see my great Aunt. She is a sweet lovely woman. She is eighty-four years old. I love her. However, she has made the recent decision that she cannot live by herself anymore and that she is going to move in with us. This happens every year. My aunt wants to move in with us, my mother wants her to move in with us.
The bedroom my Aunt is going to be staying in is also the room right below mine. She will be hearing my sexually explicit Gaga and Kanye rapping about how he is a good. This is a good Catholic woman. She is not going to like this.
If she moves in this is all going to mean my mother is not going to be gone for a month this summer. I love my mother, but I enjoy my breaks. My father travels a lot during the summer and I don't give a fuck. He can stay gone. He made me so upset. We got into a fight and he told me he hoped “I faced real discrimination in my life”. In what context is that acceptable I am not sure, but he's acting like everything is okay. Everything is not okay bitch. Everything is not okay. Who says that to their child.
My aunt moving in also means that I will never truly be home alone, which is okay. I never threw a wild crazy, drug in fueled party, while my parents were away and I feel like I've missed an opportunity in my life. To be fair I would be down with people drinking, but they would not be driving home. It would basically be one big slumber party. Drugs would not be a part of the equation.
The parents are actually traveling without me next week, so I might just do something wild except not really. I'm basically a good child at heart. At least I try to be. I don't know why I try. I am the family disappointment after all. I might as well snort cocaine, except not because cocaine is expensive. And, I'm also a cheap ass bitch and I don't have the time or money to be buying illicit drugs. I'm trying to look good when I'm 40 without shooting my face up with collagen.
I just don't know. My aunt also likes me, but that's because she doesn't see me very often. I think if she knew more about the real me, she would probably pray for my soul. It's a good thing that she can't climb stairs. If she lives with me she will find out and freak out about my hair color, the clothes I wear.
My hair is also this really pretty powdery pink, because who knew that pink goes hard as fuck in your hair. I dyed my hair dark pink in January. Three months later and it is still pink. This is a problem. I am trying to bleach it out and it is not coming out. I would really like a different color. I feel like I look like a pink haired version of Betty Who right now. That's probably inaccurate.
In more exciting news, something is coming. My birthday is coming up at the end of April and I plan on doing something for the blog. I don't know if you'll like it, but I'm going to try something new.
There was something I wanted to write about or more accurately tell you about. Because, there's a point where no matter how much your friends like you they want you to shut the fuck up about something. This thing hasn't happened, yet. And, I don't even know if it's going to happen. I'm trying to be calm, cool, collected. None of which I am, and if it doesn't happen I'll tell you anyway. I will be heartbroken.
I am on Christmas break at the moment. Needless to say nothing is happening to me. I'm exceedingly dull. I don't do anything. Everyone else is out chilling with friends, making out with their boyfriends, and I'm sitting at home crying about how happy this book makes me. The only thing I can think of is the Christmas gathering I had. You can call it a party if you want, but the only shots people took were of water. I would love to say it was a resounding success, but it wasn't. It was actually a hot ass mess. That's what it was. My mother was in a vengeful mood and she ate an entire tray cookies I made and casually mentioned how I had to remake those. You know I made all the food with my questionable cooking talents. I don't know what I did to upset her, but I did something. That was not kosher. I was like this bitch. Needless to say I did remake them and no one ate them. It was really tragic.
Two people were also obnoxiously early and they are always late. Not as if I mind. But, that was the day Madonna dropped her pre-release with the six new songs. I was just through breaking down to “Living For Love” when the doorbell rang. It was fine. We talked and I love them.
Other people trickled in and I had a good fifteen people there. Two people were not there, even though they said they were coming. I was confused. I don't know why one of them didn't come, but the second one said her uncle died. This is Jenny by the way and I was like that was fine. Then, she sends me an e-mail that tells me she dropped off my present and the man didn't seem to appreciate it. I don't know if she was kidding. I was too afraid to ask.
A real problem was that people weren't mixing. I know not everyone knows each other. That's why you play party games. What I do every time. Five people refused to play a game. I was like what the fuck. These are group games. Get the fuck over it and pick a side and calm yourself. Whatever. We didn't play a game. Thunder informed me that she would have played Pictionary, but that she didn't like party games. I consider Pictionary a party game and I was like whatever. The moment has passed. I mean Sacajawea and her boy toy sat on the couch grasping at each other all night anyway. The only person who really wanted to play a game was me. I just feel like I was a horrible host not mingling with the masses.
The party if you want to call it that really ended about 8:30. People came at 5:00 or later and left at 8:30 or earlier. Do you ever just feel like the charity friend. Like people only humor your presence, because they feel bad for you. That is my relationship with these people, I have to make the plans or there are no plans. I was an emotional train wreck at the beginning of this semester and the only people I saw were the twins. They forced me to go out. No one else took there time out to see me. I realize some of these people don't even live in the same city anymore, but fall break comes around. Not acknowledged.
I might be over thinking it, but I have a really rocky relationship when it comes to friends. I really shouldn't be so offended. I don't consider most of these people friends. There just people I enjoy spending time with. That's not the same thing as a friend. One weird thing that happened is that Thunder called me a liar. Not really a big deal. None of these people were really under the impression I was a saint. I am the person who had borderline pneumonia, but tells everyone I had pneumonia. She was leaving with her sister J. Lo and we were talking about these girls who were dating. Specifically, I said they were dating.
Thunder informs me that I am lying and not to make things up. To say they were dating may have been an over exaggeration, but these girls were not just friends. They sat on the couch I was sitting on and fondled each other in front of me. They sat at lunch together and when they broke up they no longer sat next to each other. They were something if they weren't dating.
It didn't phase me. It's when the party ends and I check my e-mail that I see that I got something from her saying she was sorry for calling me a liar. Then, proceeds to explain that she was under a lot of stress. I replied back and told her it was fine. Whenever you justify why you did something it's not an apology. It means you still think you were right and that you had good reason. As I said it didn't bother me. People have said a lot worse things about me then calling me a liar. Being the basic ass bitch I am, I put this on twitter. Thunder doesn't even have twitter on her phone, but some how she saw it and I got another e-mail apologizing for justifying her actions. It was passive aggressive of me. I shouldn't have made her feel like shit over something I literally didn't give a fuck about. At the same time I didn't feel the need to coddle her. I say all of this and I wonder why I don't have friends.
Speaking of that it was very interesting to see Rosencrantz and J. Lo shacked up together on the couch talking away. I knew they were friends again, but it was strange. Last year J. Lo ignored every single one of her friends for this one girl. Both Rosencrantz and I told her how that made us feel and how we wanted her to spend more time with us.
J. Lo changed nothing. Not a single thing. We told her how we felt and she didn't give it a second thought. Apparently Rosencrantz has forgiven her. It's not even that I haven't forgiven her it's just that I don't think of her as a friend anymore. You don't ignore a friend or push them to the side because someone better comes along. She can't fix it. I still like spending time with her, but she's a shitty friend. I wish I was like Rosencrantz, just so able to forget and move on. It just made feel so replaceable. That's why people kill themselves. It's not that they don't think someone loves them or that there aren't people who care about them. It's that these same people will move on and find someone better then you. It's horrifying to realize how much someone doesn't need you. That said after the real party inhabitants left I was left with the three introverts. A great group to hold a conversation with and these three people stayed and chatted with me until 11:30. It was really great. I loved getting to talk to them like that. It wasn't the success I imagined, but I think it worked out in the best way possible. I loved it.
My life has been exceedingly dull.
My classmates, however. I don't know what is happening to them. They have lost their minds. Let me tell you. Let's start away from my lovely school at dear friend J.Lo's dorm and her dorm mate. Now J.Lo is Thunder's sister. I would say we're friends. Great friends, best friends for life. No. But, we enjoy each other's company and that's a good of place to start as any for a friendship. Her roommate I know. I've known this girl since the 4th grade. For the sake of protecting the not innocent we will call her 'dumb bitch'. So, this dumb bitch is going to herself kicked out of school, arrested, raped, or killed. Possibly all of the above. In high school she was I'm such a good Christian girl. Now she's acting popular? She was so drunk two weekends ago that five people had to carry her home. Note the words 'five' and 'carry'. Dumb bitch. It's one thing to drink. It's one thing to get a little wild. But, you could not even stand. You were so wasted it took five people to carry you home.
This is not a wet campus by the way. There is not supposed to be alcohol. So, needless to say it would have been hard to explain why an 18 year old was so piss ass drunk it took five girls to carry her home.
A few weeks ago we had a foam party on my campus. I for one am not about to go to a foam party Paris Hilton isn't hosting. And, there is this very gay boy in my English class. I think he's a sophomore. Well, needless to say him and this boy went to the foam party. For the sake of cohesiveness we will call them 'A' and 'B'.
Well, A and B got real drunk. Not as drunk as dumb bitch, but drunk enough. They had very loud, very passionate sex in a shower. This is how you know they were really drunk. It was not even in one of their showers it was in one of the girls dorm rooms. I cringe thinking about it. This is not meant to be. I'm worried they didn't remember the condoms. They were in someone else's bathroom fucking each other. I can't imagine what kind of lubricant they were using.
There was also an orgy on campus. For some reason this is not as bad as dumb bitch's story. I'm like that seems like a terrible idea, but the person who told me about it remembers it. There was alcohol involved, but it wasn't that bad. Although, according to my source, a brother and sister were involved. I only got their side of the story, so I do not know if the brother and sister participated in the orgy together or if they participated in the orgy together.
I will keep you updated. A friend's sister is also in rehab. She called her parents drunk, while doing cocaine and meth. There's that little scandal for you. She is in rehab, she should be fine. A coworker of mine has a sextape out. She is a minor. She's not super pretty. I have not seen the video, but apparently it's just her masturbating. I cringe. And, she apologizes all the time. I cannot handle it. Stop apologizing to me.
Your entire high school has seen you finger yourself. Get your life together. Why are you apologizing to me. You need to be apologizing to God. To your parents. To your brother, because you both share the same cloud account. Did this girl not hear about Jennifer Lawrence. This will be out there forever. She also has braces. This is not the kind of sex tape you shrug off and say I look really hot in.
That's life for you.
I told my co-worker the day after it happened. We were not really slow at work, but I said to him. I lost my virginity yesterday. As we're both going about our jobs. His response is to fist bump me.. I don't know how exactly I feel about that. So, I clarified to him I saw The Rocky Horror Picture Show last night with Thunder. I'm not a Rocky Horror virgin anymore. He looked at me like I had mislead him. I thought everyone knew about this Rocky Horror virgin scenario. Apparently not. That Friday was just an uncomfortable day all around. I had a three hour break before I was going to go see Rocky Horror and I could have gone home. On a good day. It might take me twenty-five minutes to get home. But, with traffic. Try an hour. So, needless to say going home just wasn't really a good option.
But, she had class. I wouldn't have gone, but she was like it's right after class. We could go together. And, actually it was in the same classroom that we were in. I'm taking intro to psych and there's a good bit of people in that class, so we use an auditorium. The meeting was not that bad. It mainly was a discussion of raising awareness and campaigns and volunteering. (Are you doing the pride parade? Not if it's outdoors). But, the president asks us to introduce ourselves, name, major, and what are we most proud of. Asking trick questions on our first day. I had enough time to prepare. I was in the third row. It shouldn't have been a problem. Everyone else is, I'm proud of my sexuality. I'm proud of who I am. I stand up and I'm like I'm proud of this chair. Because, I'm creative and witty and original. The speaker could tell how awkward I was and he said “You should be proud of your hair”. And, I wanted to anoint him bae. Bowing down to that man. For the next two hours after it ends. I end up in the library. Working on the blog as usual. Really if you ever see a skinny, blonde, blogger on a couch in the library every day. It's probably me. Come say hi. I actually stayed until the library closed, and I went to the place where Thunder and I agreed to meet. Still blogging outside. Of course. I hear this stampede. A large sweaty group of runners pass by me. And, the funny thing is I recognized one of them by their calves. Whenever he sits down next to me in class, I'm like damn. I wish my calves were like that. If only I was willing to run ten miles a day. So, the only reason The Rocky Horror Picture Show is popular is because of the interactive experience that is the movie. People shout at the screen. Two characters have “Asshole” and “Whore” thrown at them. The brother and sister had “ELBOW SEX! ELBOW SEX!” directed towards them the whole movie.
When Thunder and I went they had people come up on stage. This one boy dressed up as the title character, Rocky, in his signature gold lame spandex briefs. He thought he was sexy. I suppose he was. But, he was getting on my nerves. Twerking on stage. Being too much all the way around. But that is this movie.
Some explanation needed to be made about my departure from my former blog. It was about not feeling equal to Buttercup and Blossom, but there was so much more to it then that. I honestly don't think I would have left if something personal hadn't happened between me and Buttercup. It got blown out of proportions. It should have never gotten to the point where we would never talk to each other again. I was having my graduation party. I'm a year younger then both of them, so I was still in High School when we started this blog. I was on the phone with Buttercup and she asked me who had I invited, and I told her. One of the girls I had asked, Buttercup had met before. Very briefly. We ran into her in public, I said hello, we talked a little, and we moved on. Afterwards Buttercup went off about how rude she was, because of a look she gave her. I didn't see this look, but it happened. She said, “I'm going to shove pencils down her throat.” (Although, she told me what she said was “It's not as if I'm going to shove pencils down her throat”, and honestly at this point it doesn't matter which one was said). This was unnecessarily graphic and violent, and needless to say it really upset me. I considered not mentioning it to Buttercup and just moving on. But, it really upset me, I couldn't just not tell her how I felt. We had been friends for four years, I called her every week. She was my best friend. I loved this girl and I didn't want to hold resentment against her for something like this. So, that Saturday when I picked her up, we talked a little, the Bruno Mars concert the night before, computer issues that left her unable to write her Snapshot Saturday. That's when I made a very big mistake. I tried to light heartedly, but still firmly tell her, “There's not going to be any physical violence today, just so you know.” Buttercup blew up. She said so many nasty things to me as I drove. The only thing I got in was calling her a “Damn little bitch.” It got worse, and I was truly impressed by how many different variations of the word “fuck” she could use. We, then proceeded to spend most of the day together, pretending everything was fine, and we never talked again. I tried hugging her when she left just to see where we stood, and she ignored it. That gave me a very clear answer. Maybe after this point we still could have remained friends, but we wrote a blog together, and every post hurt me. Look what Blossom and I are doing, without you. I just had to stop reading her articles. I'm sure she never started reading mine. I hadn't spoken to her in two weeks at this point and I get on twitter after staying until close at work, and I see this tweet. Someone is about to be excommunicated... I texted Blossom even though it was past midnight to ask her if she tweeted it. She said she hadn't. That meant Buttercup had. You see Buttercup never got on our social media. Ever. It was always me and Blossom tweeting, getting on instagram. So, I knew Buttercup posted this for a reason. That's when I did the thing I'm most ashamed of in this whole melodrama, was I gave her the satisfaction of responding. Except I didn't do it in a passive aggressive way. It was cut and dry. I called her out for everything I was upset about, I went to town. My favorite tweet I sent was: At two in the morning this gave me great satisfaction. At ten the next day, not so much. I would have deleted every single one of them, except above all of my rant, there was one new tweet, and I knew Buttercup and Blossom had already seen it. It was too late. It was then I was informed that it was just a quote from Gossip Girl. And, it really was, I heard it with my own ears. But, that changes nothing. I know Buttercup did it to hurt me. If she didn't. She knew the implications of what it meant, and she was just being a dumb bitch who wasn't thinking. A few days passed, until I got an e-mail. Buttercup wanted to fix our relationship. She felt the only way we could communicate was through e-mail. I agreed with her. I read everything she said, and it gave me her perspective, and it made me understand where she was coming from. Writing my e-mail back to her was one of the most cathartic things I've done. I felt calm. I felt we were going to be all right. It was wonderful. We both understood each other now. I assumed we would need a few more e-mails back and forth to solidify the relationship, but I never expected the e-mail I got back. It was longer then the first one, and it had more complaints. But, this time I couldn't forgive her. It came off as petty. Almost as if it was a power move. I read it and she went beyond what happened that day, to attacking our friendship at the core. Everything she said in that car, I can forgive her for. But, what she said to me in a cold calculated e-mail, something she had every chance to make perfect, I can't forgive. I can't understand why she wanted to be friends with me. That's what I got from that e-mail, “You have been a shitty friend from day one, and I'm not sure why I bother with you.” At that point, I would have taken Wendy William's advice and dropped her, but we still had the blog. I wanted things to be right with us, but never see her again. So, I replied back apologized for everything, and two weeks later I still hadn't gotten a response. I don't know if she never got that e-mail or if she read it, was fine with me, and wanted me to grovel for our friendship back. I don't know what happened. It also doesn't matter, because I don't think she'll ever want to be my friend again. I didn't leave our blog nearly as pretty as it may have sounded. Everything ended last week when Blossom asked me if I was free for a meeting at Barnes & Nobles at 3:00. I knew this meant Buttercup would be there, but I agreed. Recently, Buttercup had become very lax in her posting, I believe she'd missed three in the past month. Mind you we only posted once a week. She missed a lot. Then, Blossom was having technical troubles and she missed one. It just didn't look good for We Wear Pink. We needed a meeting.I wasn't looking forward to it. I can't pretend I was. But, when I got a text from Blossom to check my e-mail and print it off. I knew I wasn't going. The e-mail she sent me was of a contract to sign regarding the blog. I agreed with everything she put in it. Limit swearing, personal drama shouldn't play out on our social media. Nothing that shocking. But at the bottom of this contract were three signature spots and two of them said “Founder” and the third one said “Co-Writer”. I had been relegated to co-writer. I helped come up with the name of the blog. I brainstormed daily categories for the blog. What do you mean I was a “co-writer”. Mind, you I was the last person to join, but the blog had not even been created at this point. Blossom and Buttercup decided they needed a third person. Therefore, I am fine not having as much power as the two of them. I don't deserve it. But, I didn't like my title. I should have at least been a “writer” instead of a “co-writer”. Like I was just some odd person in a thousand who wrote for us. I told Blossom, I wouldn't be at a meeting where I have no power. She said we all had equal say, but that her and Buttercup were the founders. Bullshit. I call bullshit on that. If we all have equal power, I deserve the same title. I'm one of the three main powerpuff girls for god's sakes. I wasn't Miss Sara Bellum. I was Bubbles. I should have been important. Then, she tells me, you don't even know why we picked our domain, you don't know our reasons for picking so many things with our blog. I took a moment and I realized she was right. I don't know any of those reasons. I really am not a founder the way you two are. Then, she once again says we have equal power, and I was like bye. Same Power = Same Title I didn't go to the meeting, I stayed home and watched the James Bond movie Die Another Day. But, I kept thinking. And, I realized I needed to get away from Buttercup completely. I couldn't be associated with that blog any longer. So, that night I wrote my last article, saved the draft, and quietly resigned. There was one thing I wanted from them, though. I had run their Tumblr. I can't remember a time when either one of them posted something on it. I loved my Tumblr. And, I probably would have just started my own, except two of my favorite blogs RuPaulKnowsEverything and AmenMadonna had started following me. So, this is where I got really basic. I changed the password, and e-mail to our Tumblr so it was no longer associated with my former blog. I even changed the tumblr URL to bubblerighted.tumblr.com. Mind, you I didn't except them to find out about all of this as quickly as they did. Because, I finished my last article at about midnight. I changed the tumblr at about two. I wanted time to make sure that this is what I really wanted. But, that morning, I got a very pleasant text from Blossom saying “She was sad I was leaving, but they had chosen to take the blog in a different direction.” This is where I should have told her that I'd taken the Tumblr. But, I didn't. Shockingly enough, I underestimated that she ever got on Tumblr. Because, when I got home that night I had a string of angry text messages saying that I had disrespected her and that she couldn't believe I'd stolen the Tumblr. I can't say she was wrong, and some day I could regret how I ended things. But, sometimes you become more in love with the memories of someone, then the person standing right in front of you. And, that has become true of that part in my life.
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