Oh Shit, Girl!

It's a humorous world

“Month Five”

        It seems that every time I write in this blog, I’m astonished at the time that has passed since my last post.  I always promise myself I’m going to write more, but somehow seem to “never” have the time–despite the fact that I have plenty of time on my hands.

Standard problems of a young college drop out.

     So what’s new with me? Well, first off, I’m taking a break from college, and am now living in a big city


I’ve officially joined the club of “College Drop Out Hipsters With No Job”, whom surprisingly actually take up over 75% of the population here in Columbus!

 I wish I could say I fit in well with these groups of folks, but apparently, I’m struggling.

     You see, I can only buzz my hair like Skrillex, edit the shit out of instagram photos of food I got from Surly Girl, and talk about how awesome my life is to a few wannabe Andy Warhol’s, so much, until the shit gets old.

And like a superficial courtship between two people.

 I’ve gotten past the Honey Moon phase with this fucking town.

    When I first moved here, I couldn’t help but think how awesome this place was. The first two months were filled with occasional weekends at Bodega during gallery hop, and meeting complete psychos before I actually found a decent friend group. By the second month, the big city blues came through, and I became more depressed than a very discouraged Edgar Allen Poe. This being mainly due to the fact that I finally realized….

The only reason why this city seem “cool

was because I moved

from an absolute

shit hole that had nothing going for it.

Followed by my second realization, one in which has sent every known hipster throughout the history of mankind into a gigantuous blue funk—I realized that even if this city did have something going for it… it wouldn’t matter.

 Cause I’m a college dropout now.

              And when you have gotten to this point…

It’s hard to find any place that has something going for it, especially when you’ve become the shit hole, and have nothing going for you to begin with!

  Goodbye all my hopes and dreams.

Hope I can make it as a barista.

 You would think life would be easy here for a creative young lady such as myself.

 Guess not.

When it comes to finding a job, fitting in with the cool crowd of artists and musicians, and even a love life here, I fail miserably.

      The job search has been an ongoing process that never seems to end, and I can’t help but get tense in these group interviews at Urban Outfitters, when I’m competing up against a 23 year old chick from Chicago, who has a Master’s Degree in Fashion Design, and I’m all over here like

   “Hey, I was a Computer Science Major in Dayton, Ohio, and I never graduated! Also I play WOW, and look like a weird, goofy, geek.”

Luckily the last part… kinda worked in my favor. After all, my style is often confused for a hipster, seeing half the time… I look like a homeless nerd….

which actually,

defines me pretty well.

     As for fitting in with the cool crowd, I suppose I could if I wanted to. If I did this though, I would have to take an extensive course on album names of bands that I may already listen to regularly (just don’t give a shit about which album the song is coming from), pointless musical facts (that I don’t give a damn about, even as a musician), names of the local artists around town, and resent those who have never heard of The Flaming Lips like the KKK resented black folk.

Being unaccepting, and completely full of shit


     isn’t always my style. I like to think everyone has something they can teach me, and those things have the potential to be either good or bad. I can roll with almost anyone, so long as they are a truly a genuine person, whom of which takes pride in being a true individual.

By true individual, I mean their actions actually show for it, and they aren’t preaching about individuality, when they are exact conformities of their “non-conformist” friend group.

     My love life isn’t experiencing much luck either. Back to the whole “individual thing”, my whole life I was taught to be myself. You would think this would work to my advantage, but apparently it hasn’t worth a shit. Once acquainted with the “real world”, I see now that if you want to survive with the vast majority of Homo Sapiens on this planet, being yourself doesn’t exactly help with your survival…or finding a mate.

     See, I’ve been blessed with the “gift” or rather, “curse” of being too much myself.

My optimistic side tells me that this will eventually work to my advantage in finding “the one”, who truly accepts me for who I am.

 My realistic side tells me that with my personality, my views on gender equality, and how much of a sarcastic ass I am,

 I’m gonna end up a cat lady, alone for the rest of my life.

   In addition, apparently no girl or guy wants to hear anything semi-intelligent these days, especially coming from someone who could potentially become a love interest. Go figure! In fact, the more small talk you can provide the better. But you can bet your sweet ass, if you’re dating someone who thinks they are the true, one and only shit…

 Be ready to hear an earful about themselves

for HOURS (learned this one in Columbus)

   Sadly, I cannot be a robot, and just sit there mindlessly looking pretty, while some ass fuck rambles on about his life. I tend to run into this problem with those whom are actually talented at their careers, or semi-demi-well known round’ town

Once fame gets the best of them,

 they become the cock of the block.

 These douches usually have luck picking up girls, they don’t have any luck picking up me, because they don’t have any luck picking up women.  Go figure.

        Anywho, that’s enough from me tonight. I think I’ve given a decent update from my year long absence. Now,  it’s time for me to go to bed, or find some shenanigans to get into this Saturday night, or maybe fill out a few more job applications….or maybe just be sad and miserable, and order Jimmy Johns and fall asleep.

        Yeah….I think I’ll do Jimmy John’s.



Hope everyone had a stellar New Year…

So recently I’ve been the ear/shoulder to cry on for everyone’s relationship bullshit here in college (single, complicated, in a relationship, fuck buddies, cheating, etc). I guess you could say, when it comes to relationships…

and all of the above

I’m a pretty good mentor. Emphasis on the mentor there, for I’ve become much less of a mentor, and more so a relational therapist.

I’ve done some pretty asinine things myself, on behalf of my  relationships, rendezvous, sexcapades, what have you. Therefore, I have a pretty high understanding of the kind of shit people tend to pull in them. Ironically enough, many people tend to throw this B.S. to the way side, especially, when they’re in so called “love”.  Otherwise, scientifically recognized as the mammalian process to reproduce ones DNA

…which is probably why the majority of relationships aren’t working out.

I don’t really want to get political here, though, so I’m just going to go ahead and throw science (and my own cynical definition of love), out of this. Instead, lets get back to the main point, and that is the kind of bullshit I’ve seen pulled in front of my own eyes, and what I’ve heard from others. So, out of respect, lets just call this “shit-pulling”



This is probably the first Love Game you’ll experience in any relationship. Due to the fact that this is provoking the first form of communication between one an other, The Texting Game, can potentially become one huge mind fuck.


Due to the fact that people lack real communication skills, and don’t understand that the following:






Don’t actually count as a real conversation.

In addition, if you encounter someone who does only respond with this five word vocabulary, take note that you are fuckin’ with a level 80 bullshitter.

But, say you come across someone who can somewhat keep up a conversation via text. Don’t think you’re out of the woods just yet. Just because someone can keep up a conversation, doesn’t mean that you’re in for an easy game. In fact, you may face the issue of falling for this person ( or at least something a part of/ to do with that person), and now find yourself becoming an insomniac/psychotic mess, waiting around for your phone to light up with just a snippet of communication

The problem with The Texting Game, is the fact that Technology has really changed the ways we communicate  in our relationships. Back in the day before all this texting nonsense, one of the  only ways to reach someone was to either:

I. Call the house.

II. Leave them a note.

However, nowadays people feel that such things are a bit too inclusive. In fact, even myself have been guilty of being afraid to call someone I just met, as I felt like it would be too up their ass. On the contrary, I’ve received calls from those in the initial courting phase, and about shat myself whenever they called my phone.

The thing is, if it works, it works; if it doesn’t, it doesn’t. In The Texting Game, you’ll face all sorts of scenarios in which you feel like you’re about to tear your hair out, confused as hell, while your mind begins to storm a fiery vengeance against the very fibers of that person’s being.  I can’t stress enough, how much I hear people bitch about the texts they receive. Next to domestic violence, it’s the next thing up there in relationships, that truly make people lose their shit.

“He asked me for a picture of my titties…, what does that even mean???” 

On the contrary, I love to bitch about the texts I receive from others. I’ve experienced just about every challenge in the Texting Game, such as:

The Ghost Texter- Texts you for about a week to a month, then *WOOSH* they disappear, never to be heard from again.

CHEAT CODE 1 : Don’t text their ass back either…especially if you move up a level to

The Peek-a-Boo Texter- That one person you fucked awhile back, whom after months of not speaking, graces your phone with a simple “how’ve ya been?”..

CHEAT CODE 2:  Refer to Cheat Code 1.


Rattle their boots a little, with

“I’ve been better….

you might wanna get yourself tested : x .”

The DTF Texter- Encountered in the Enchanted Frat Party Forest, filled with the douchiest of douches. After three texts, wants  pus, and tit pics.

CHEAT CODE 3: Send them a picture of a giant penis.

And last but not least…

The BULLSHITTER Texter- “I’ll text you later!”….


Cheat Code:  Move the fuck on, girlfriend.

“Go fuck yourself !”

The Sexiest Holiday Season Ever….


Happy Holidays, and Happy New Years guys. My apologies for being busy out the ass with finals (and going into a comotos state during my family’s Thanksgiving).

You know, the Holidays are definitely an interesting time of year. Due to the winter storms a’brewin  in the wild Midwest tundra, the Homo Sapien seems driven to find a mate to keep them warm. However, let me make this clear. This is not mating season. We all know for us college students, that’s during Spring Break.

The problem with the Holidays, and Winter in general, is that people are either hooking up, breaking up, or striving throughout the winter sad, and alone.  Lucky for you, the fact that the suicide rate increases during the Holidays, is actually false. But, just to make your day a little brighter, do take in mind that, statistically, suicide is the second leading cause of death for college students.

 So we’re all screwed anyway.

I’ve had my fair share of Holiday rendezvous in college. In fact, this time last year I was going ham on the cuddle buddy, ticklefest, madness.  I’ll admit, I indulged in the Holiday Fuckfestivities just as much as I did my mama’s baklava, and managed to get a tummy ache/heart ache from both.

   Due to the fact that last season winded up to be more “trick than treat”, I went in search for a guide to help me have a more successful holiday, and perhaps avoid the Holiday blues. Among my search, I ran into a “How-To” guide from Cosmopolitan Magazine, which is every reasonable women’s guide to life. I couldn’t pass it down.


Lets see how I compare.

Cosmo first starts out this practical guide to surviving the Holiday’s, with a vagina, by offering a few tips on one of the most important issues in regards to maintaining your emotional sanity…

Here’s how the guide breaks down.

How to be a KICKASShostess (which they called a housewife back in the 50’s)

How to Make Sure Your Relationship Survives the Holidays (if you’re banging more than three people at once, just void this)

How to Own The Holidays So They Don’t Own You (better know as “How to Avoid The Holidays Raping Your Wallet”)

In all honesty, after I went over this article, I was a little bit disappointed. I definitely failed in the hostess department, as I didn’t have a single Christmas/New Years party. Given, these articles aren’t really bias to a women in college, as no article in the “How to be a Kickass Hostess”, provided how to get the smell of puke out of  my brand new apartment carpet, and what to do when the  cops are pounding at the door New Years Eve  for a noise violation.

As for the”How to Make Sure My Relationships Survived this Christmahanakwanzika New Year”,

they didn’t.

In fact, they died along time ago, however I was still open to reading all the advice Cosmo had to give me. Unfortunately, once again, not a single article took in mind a slutty  “sexually liberated” American girl in college.

One of the articles that interested me was the one called  “10 Ways to Bond with Your Guy During the Holidays”, in which I only have one way to do this, and that is going by the advice Cosmo gives me on lipgloss.

Switch it up

Surprisingly enough, I actually successfully participated in all 10 tips in the article, which included

1. Do one tiny thing together each day. – Surprise, surprise, I got a text out of nowhere from each of my lovers, during the holidays, followed by an expected, complete absence of any further conversation, unless, I mentioned the Victoria Secrets gift card and lingerie I got. CHECK!

2. Help your shopping-challenged guy get it all done. – Ok, so I might have failed this a wee bit. After all, I have no desire to go shopping with anyone for the holidays, as everyone is more pissed off than a PMSing polar bear. In addition, I especially have no desire to be on someone’s ass during the holidays, badgering if they got all their shopping done. That would just add more attention to my own, bat shit crazy Holiday Shopping list, in which two of my siblings and best friends were left out, due to financial reasons. FAIL

3. Make each other playlists of songs you love right now. – Ok, so I sort of partook in this. As everyone knows, I’m a music addict. I didn’t create anyone a sweet as mothafuckin’ taboo mixtape, however I did get the chance to play some sweet tunes for my muses. Despite the fact, the only music I got to listen (provided by the muses), was the shit they played in the shower, or taking my ass back the next day. It’s always fun to see guys rock out to their jams, as they get into G mode, goin ham to the radio station. Ballers on a budget. Calm the fuck down, we’re still all paying interest. CHECK!

4. Won’t be together on the 25th? Pick a day to have a “mini Christmas.” – I wasn’t “together” with anyone on the 25th (thank God). However, upon my arrival, I made sure to throw a mini Christmas party in everyone’s pants. Successfully accomplishing a very Merry Christmas, for those who were lucky enough to get the gift of me. CHECK!

5. Ask him to write an X-rated wish list for you. – Refer to 4. CHECK!

The last thing on Cosmo’s Sexiest Holiday ever guide, was how to own the holidays. Needless to say, I epically failed in this section, for the Holidays,  Sasha Grey style, definitely owned me. Not only did it leave me with a gaping hole in my pocket, but an entire hole in my checking entirely. Merry Stupid Christmas?

I guess in the end, it wasn’t the sexiest Holiday ever, however it was still quite grand, and while I might have not had too of an attractive holiday, I definitely have to say it was a good end to an amazing year.  Until next times guys, cya in the end of the world.