maniccupcake.net

So I told him I wouldn’t do this, but I’m linking the exes blog. A series of incidents has made me realize I don’t really care if it pisses him off, or leads him back to my blog. The incidents are as follows:

I wished him a happy birthday almost a month ago. I was being nice. I’ve always wanted to try remaining friends. The fact that he can’t get over it after he broke up with me and decided that he made a mistake is not my issue. Obviously he made a mistake, I am fucking amazing. He proceeded to ream me out for saying happy birtday, then wrote on his blog that I was obviously a cunt and was trailing him along for ego strokes.

Uh hi buddy, I don’t need your ego strokes. I still care about you even though you’re probably the world’s largest douche, but whatever. Exsqueeze me for being nice. I assure you, that will not be happening again. I still have high five on my case, my awesome boyfriend (who I seriously love to death, despite his few short comings) and other dudes. I don’t need any ego strokes and honestly, being hit on makes me uncomfortable.

I also apologized for some stuff I put him through right at the end of our relationship. It was basically my current situation in reverse. Now I know how incredibly stressful it must have been. That’s another big reason why I texted him. But yes, I am an awful awful person.

I read his blog today and it turns out “Benefits Girl” (his main “girl”) is also into modelling. He mentioned how when we were together I was into the same thing because I wanted attention. Uh no. I didn’t pursue any photographers, they pursued me. I did two shoots before he and I got together and I stopped when we began dating because it made him uncomfortable. That’s just how I am. I accommodate and I do whatever I can to make my partner 100% comfortable. I even stopped talking to a majority of my male friends.

It’s been super awesome that the beau isn’t insecure like that. I’ve never been a cheater, and i never will. I get plenty of attention at home. The modelling is just a hobby, and extra money. I don’t go taking my clothes off or approaching photographers. I wait for them to contact me.

So yes. A huge attention whore. That’s me. Also, this girl of his signed up with the same agency as me (if it is who I think it is) and its hilarious and awkward when we run into each other. I don’t know if she even knows who I am. I do remember being incredibly wary of her when the ex and I broke up because they hung out a bit and he and I were still talking (read boning)

Always trust your gut ladies.

Anyway, his whole blog makes me out to be the bad guy and there’s even a few comments where people say how awful I am. It was funny at first, now it’s just offensive and hurts a tiny bit. Especially since he knows i read his blog. And dammit I can’t stop. It’s like a car crash you can’t turn away from.

It takes every ounce of my being not to comment on his blog and say, “Yes. I am a huggeee attention whore. Yet you’re the one wheeling 3 or 4 different women at the same time. Mmmhmmm.”

He is on the other hand, a very gifted writer. He has a decent following and he really knows how to spin a story and captivae the reader, I’ll give him props for that. If you feel like watching the wreckage and reading about his taking the ladies on his roster along for the ride you can find him at:

behindthephd.blogspot.com

Sorry I’ve been lacking in the updates department. I was in a bit of a funk (as I’m sure you all noticed) and wasn’t in the mood for writing. Ontop of that I’ve been a busy little lamb with work, and then I told my internet company to go eff themselves so i’ve been without internet.

But alas, I found an application that turns my blackberry into a wireless adapter. Yes, it is an amazing little thing. Anyway, I have a funny story for you. Last weekend was a holiday here in the great white north. I spent my Monday generally not feeling well, but at work (and for 25$ an hour, why not?) fooling around on my blackberry and sitting on the counters.

Yes yes I know, bad bad. Anyway, this old, miserable lady runs a bookstore behind us and she complained to the other manager that we were being inappropriate at work. I’m still trying to figure out how exactly, but whatever. Naturally as soon as I came into work on Thursday I was pulled aside and asked what happened.  I did what I always do, deny deny deny. I’m fairly certain anyone would do the same thing in my situation.

And then things got very very bad. As I was walking away from my lecture I went to text the other girl I was working with on Monday, I said, “I hate (insert name of bookstore here). The old bitchy manager ratted on us for Monday. I’m never shopping there again.

I tucked my phone into my pocket and went on my lunch, not thinking much of it until my phone dinged at me a few seconds later. I looked at my phone and it said, “This is Brittany.”.I could have died. I accidentally texted her instead of the other girl.

Whoops. Again, shit happens and I didn’t think much would come of it. So I sat on the counter? So what. Well apparently it was a huge deal. I got a final warning (meaning next time I make a mistake I’m fired)and she went and reviewed the mall tapes to see what we did that day! She honestly went that far. If I had been Mall Security I would habve laughed in her face.

The whole situation is laughable. Did I mess up? Yes. But should I receive a final warning when I’m a model employee, have the highest sales, am management and have never been written up before? No. So eff that. I started applying for new jobs right away.

In fact, tomorrow I have an interview before work. If I get it it will be very very good. Cross your fingers and toes for me. I also may have a promotional modelling gig on Saturday. Things can only get better, right?

I figure part of growing up involves heartbreak.

There’s the times someone you thought was your better half sends you away with a one way train ticket. You recover, albeit slowly and never completely. You find someone who slowly makes you feel whole again and treats you like a queen.

There are times when your heart breaks because a family member breaks your heart and loses your respect. You get over it because you’re family. Things are awkward but you deal with it because that’s what family does.

And then my faithful readers, there are times when a friend leaves you gasping for breath and holding back tears.

This is one of those times.

Friends are suppose to be your soul mates. They’re suppose to be on your side no matter what.

They drive you to the hospital when you’ve slit your wrist. They rush over at 3am when you call in hysterics because you don’t understand your life anymore.

They tell you when they’ve done wrong, and they ask you for help knowing you won’t judge. You both go through several significant others, and you always help one another through to the unavoidable end.

So when Samantha told us she was moving 10 hours away with her girlfriend we’d never met we all supported her. She needed a fresh start, I of all people understood that.

When her parents shunned her and said they’d disown her I was outraged, like any good friend should be.

As she counted down the days to her departure I counted down sharing her excitement. It was important to her, and I was excited to meet the woman who was important enough for her to uproot her life.

Those last few weeks passed with finality. I grinned and bared it. I offered to take her hedgehog because it wouldn’t survive the long trip. I smiled when we made plans to party one last time.

We never did. Samantha left without so much as a goodbye. The hedgehog hisses at me with hatred, and I feel broken.

It never occurred to me that one of my best friends for the last 4 years would up and leave not only with such finality but without caring about how it would hurt those she left behind.

Rip samantha. Figuratively speaking of course.

I’m at work..as I always am. Eat sleep work. Eat sleep work. I don’t know how I even find time for sex anymore! (though I do, obvs)

There are screaming children everywhere and it’s really grating on my nerves. Any one who has spoken to me for more than ten minutes knows I hate children. I don’t care how cute they are with their dimples, fat fingers and baby smell., the minute they open their little pie holes and start screaming I want to kill someone.

So unfortunately my minions (this is what i call my employees..yes to their faces) are the ones that have to deal with my wrath. I’ve left a pretty passive aggressive note they all need to sign telling them sales need improving, etc.

Hell, yesterday was my day “off” and I had to partake in a conference call, submit a report to my boss explaining why sales are low and how I’m going to improve them, and do performance reviews on my staff.

It’s a good thing I generally love my job.

I have a love/hate relationship with facebook. I love it, because its one of the easiest ways to keep in touch and find old friends. I hate it because lately  I’ve been overwhelmed by hoards of idiotic men trying to woo me and ask me out on it. I’m sorry..it’s facebook, not adult friend finder. No I am not interested.

For starters, if you barely spoke to me in high school, chances are when you try to add me and charm me now I’m just going to roll my eyes at you and eventually block or delete you. Don’t comment on my status, don’t comment on every single picture I put up.

It’s nauseating.

It’s actually gotten to the point where I’ve considered changing my relationship status to just say nothing. It might help a few dead beats leave me alone, and who knows, maybe Hannibal will notice and it will initiate some sort of “what are we” conversation.

On the other hand I have a block list a mile long both because of the ex, his friends all these idiotic men. Speaking of which, I’m sure some of you remember me writing about my exes “fake” relationship with a 19 year old twit back when we were still fooling ourselves into thinking we may work things out. I found out recently that she’s been making fun of me on his wall saying redundant things like, “Oh noes, now that we’re broken up I’m going to delete you and block all your friends”

I would like to point out that I find this mildly amusing. We broke up almost 6 months ago. Get over it. Stop talking about it. Move on. It’s also amusing because it’s not like I can see her “witty” comments, so what’s the point? All I end up doing is chuckling and reminding myself of how amazing I am.

So as a woman I am all about embracing your curves. women are suppose to be shapely. Twig like women with no booty or boobs are not attractive at all. One thing however I can’t stand are the ladies who are overweight to an unhealthy degree.

What bugs me even more is when these women try to hide their obesity..or distract from it.

Case Study 1:

I use to work in a rather popular lingerie/bathing suit store. Some women should not wear bikinis..ever. If you’re too big to be able to see your bikini line and shave it, it should not be exposed to the world. I don’t care how curvalicious you are. I don’t care if you just had a child (unless you just ate it. Deeeeeelicious.) Buy a one piece. Or just save us all the eye sore and don’t go to the beach and put down the fried chicken.

Case Study 2:

Fat Boobs. Stop trying to show off cleavage to distract from the fact that your huge Buddha belly sticks out further than your tits. If your tits are flat on top, and there’s a huge space between them when you wear a push up bra you have fat tits. Go lose some weight, get a breast lift and maybe some implants. I know I’m being a bitch but I’m a chick and I’m not looking at you out of jealousy. I’m looking because I’m grossed the fuck out. This is especially awful if your bra doens’t fit right so I can see your back fat, and it looks like you have 4 boobs. I just threw up in my mouth a little.

Case study 3:

“I’m fat but I have a pretty face.” No you don’t. And I’m telling you, it doesn’t matter how much makeup you slather on your face you’re not getting any more attractive. What you are doing is shining like a fat beacon that says “I am fat and insecure. Look at me.” Maybe you should invest in some flavored lipgloss so you can have a lick whenever you get a craving, instead of running into the nearest taco bell.

I know.. I know. You all think I’m the biggest bitch alive-but you know what? I’m sure you’ve encountered these kinda of women before and went “Ew”, so please don’t pretend that you have higher morale than me. I just speak my mind because I don’t care what some fat ass woman thinks of me.