Another Cat Lady Topic Request (AKA Phoebe): When is enough, enough? Where do you draw the line to fight for what you want, and when do you walk away?

I will open with the most important piece of this blog: When you decide you do not apologize or ask for permission to be who you are is when you truly understand the meaning of the word “want”. This word is one of the foulest four letter words in the English language? Why? Because it is naturally and automatically fucking corrupt. Yes, emphasis on the words “fucking corrupt”. In a sense, the word means to long for what you do not have. When in reality, we all have what we want if we get it. And we all CAN have what we desire. Whether you should or not, that’s another blog.

Anything short of getting what you desire is pitty and envy….not want. If you do not acquire what you desire, you may be seeking something unhealthy or unneccessary. The truth is, I despise this word…”want”. Aside from posting furniture and artwork I wish to own, the word does not exist in my vocabulary typically. Not to say I am above it or below it, I just don’t believe in living below your own expectations and needs in life. I do not say “I wish I could, I want to learn how to paint”… I just fucking do it whether it sucks or not in someone’s eyes. I truly do not care in my heart whether or not someone approves of my personality traits, hobbies or desires. I love what I love…always have and always will. So my answer to this question lies behind the beholder’s eyes. Truly you can not keep fighting for something that does not hold your fist. If your efforts are lost, you probably should have left the fight ages ago. If not, and that is what you desire, kick it in the ass and show it who’s boss. Otherwise, don’t complain if you sit…and wait… for it to get better. Nothing fosters in idle time except learning within yourself.

There is no such thing as “enough” in my opinion if you truly decide to pursue that which you intend to enjoy or destroy. Some would call that overly passionate or in some cases destructive. But lets look at the brilliant men and women of our time that hold chapters in our school books as we learn… Leonardo Da Vinci (one of my fathers), never allowed the masses to dictate his “place” in life. An advisor to Kings, an unparalleled artist, one of our anatomical fathers and a family man… there is no spoon. Beethoven decided to write symphonies without the ability to hear and has inspired orchestral madness during your lifetime, your parents’ lifetime, your grandparents’ lifetime and so on… and took your shit by storm whether you hear him or not… there is no box. Imhotep was the advisor of Pharaohs, a king of his own with his study and ability to heal when there was no such thing as “anti-biotics”. He believed in magic and the levels of reincarnation… crazy? To some.

In short, if you don’t see the truth and consequence behind your own choices, blame another for outcome or cast yourself aside to allow someone else to hold your spotlight, you have not yet seen your true days in life. Take a birds eye view of your life and really ask yourself, am I at the steering wheel?

Love yourself before you love another. Take hold of who your inner self decides to be… regardless of who the fuck is looking. Love and be loved.

A Pheobes request: D-Bags & the Women Who Love Them

What a topic that has been assigned to me from the great Captain Phoebes. It has taken me over a month to write it. Probably because I had to endure the bullshit that D-bags bring before I could truly write about this subject.

For me, the last week and a half has been abhorred and regurgitated. I have expelled just as much as I have inhaled. Here’s the thing. I am not a man hater but this post is definitely going to sound like it because I have nothing nice to say at the moment.

Douchebag: A man or woman whom decides to act like they are in a mid-life crisis. Either courting everything in sight and lying about it, or just simply treating you like shit because they know they can and you have allowed it. This is usually due to your own lack of seeing their douchebaggery before hand, but none-the-less, still a douchebag.

Women tend to love douchebags for 1 of 2 reasons. 1) The douchebag has put up a front long enough for the woman not to see them as a douchebag and has then gone into “guardian angel I can fix him” complex all the while making excuses for the reasons of experiencing said douchebaggery… or 2) she has no self esteem and is more than willing to take the shit of any half decent looking man just for the attention because her Mommy and/or Daddy didn’t show her the proper kind of love and how to respect herself. Or there is always the selective option #3) Nice guy freaks out and has a midlife crisis that you happened to be the proud recipient of.

I have not known many douchebags until recently being single. And the funny thing is that the douchebags are the exes….not new people I meet. Men go through this stage (or many stages) where they need attention … lots of it. And if you don’t give it to them, even if they act like dipshits and you have more than enough reason not to, they will find it anywhere in any form just to satisfy the primal need of a silly girl granting them an unknowing smile.

This makes me very disappointed in men. If you can’t set a somewhat acceptable standard, you’re not even worth talking to. If you have low level tadpole wet behind the ears stupid cupid grin taste, you have lost yourself and should not spread your arrogant genes anywhere. My past 2 exes after being with me cannot seem to find a beautiful intelligent woman their age to save their life. Instead they find needy emotionally dramatic kids who are naive to their “manly powers”. This is not dignified in my eyes. It makes this type of man look very desperate and childish. No self respecting grown woman who has a good job, is intelligent and has “per-say” balls is going to love or even like you when they figure this out. It’s disgusting and the only thing it gives you is a temporary satisfaction to a very childish primal instinct. Where have all the real men gone? You know… the ones that actually take pride in their adulthood and have learned and grown through experiences and have such experiences to share? Instead they just grab your tits and say… “burduuuuhhhh… I like these. hehehe boobs”.

I have decided that if that is what the world has to offer, I understand why women have so many cats and stay inside. Who the hell wants that? And why do men think its attractive in any sense?

Additionally, douchebaggery can come in the corporate – established man – well dressed format. But underneath it all….they are still thinking… “burduuuuhhh I like your boobs.” Boobs are great… I love boobs… I love MY boobs… but for the sake of the world, stop being fucking douchebags.

Phoebes insisted I explain why women still end up with them and love them.

Reason #1) Women have needs too. If everyone is a douchebag, we have to land somewhere. You’re not special.

Reason #2) The douchebagens has convinced us he is fixable and its all circumstantial.

Reason #3) The woman is just plain lacking self esteem

So in theory, yes you could absolutely say this about women too. But the crown for douchebaggery goes to exes today. Cheers to your DUI and pregnancies!

Panic…it’s whats for dinner

One very important thing to understand about the human race is that satisfaction is a very fragile thing. Everyone changes their minds about what they want, where they want to live and what makes them happy… but no one admits it openly. The reason no one admits it seems to be fear of disappointing another.

I guess what most hate and like about me is that I dont care if my wants and desires please you or if the change bothers you. Some would say this is a formula for chaos. Others would call it honesty. But what matters is that we know.

I know that I am a very easy to please person. However I am very impatient. Which I guess in most cases, these 2 counter-act eachother. I also think too much which has caused situations such as foot in mouth syndrome or causing others to feel as though they are not good enough for me. This also being the curse of critical thinking Virgo. But I am learning to curb that shit.

Who wants to be the mothering shrew that everyone wonders what the hell you were thinking when you opened your mouth? I dont think anyone signs up for this behavior… it’s sort of a genetic/taught thing by our parent(s). Over your lifetime, you wonder what IS normal, acceptable and distinguished behavior when you tend to have  foot in mouth. These “acceptable” traits are typically described by mass media as wearing a suit and NOT having foot in mouth syndrome. I personally think it’s possible to have it all. But why not test the discussion?

I recently started going to therapy. I think everyone can benefit from this. I didn’t start going because I felt I was crazy or mis-managed. But because I wanted to learn more about my abrupt “panics”. Everyone has panic disorder to a degree because it is the body’s natural response to danger or fear. But some of us have it more than others because we have “over active” brains. For instance, you’re sitting in your home peacefully watching TV and suddenly you start thinking about work…then laundry… then what you DIDNT do today and the effects it has had on your day… then you suddenly need to MAKE or BREAK something. Once your brain realizes you’ve pulled a muscle, it’s too late and now you start drinking or excessively working out because you’re annoyed at yourself for no damn reason. The on-looker has not heard any of these thoughts so they just think you’re nuts. But we all know thats not the case. We’re just “special”.

Over time, this can have a negative effect on relationships, friendships and work environment because you tend to stretch the shit out of all three. If you’re lucky like me, you have friends and loved ones who seem to love you anyway. But if you’re not, well, go get some therapy anyway. So panic is a general word for many different things. Another being the terrible act of anger. When someone pisses me off, I don’t JUST get pissed off. I ponder and muck over the scum that is what pissed me off and shed flame as I go. Yes, this is very unhealthy. Lets say I “did” because I no longer feel the need to do so. (Thanks therapy HA). I think there is dignity and envy in watching those who have turmoil in their lives but keep it internal and prevail over it anyway. Now THAT is some serious smarts. It’s easy to diarrhea your pain. It’s much harder to not involve others.

I recently was challenged with (count them) 6 turmoil situations in one year. Made me batshit crazy but I got through it. For the first 3, I handled them in all the wrong ways. For the last 3, I began to grow as a person and human into a skin much tougher than I had once had. Not to say being “tough” is the answer. It merely means that you can handle yourself instead of being retarded all over social networking and your personal relationships. Again, thank goodness I have wonderful supportive people in my life that think I’m awesome even though I havent always been in the most testing of situations.

For now, I will leave you with this. Panic is a common issue. It causes depression, fatigue, restlessness, insomnia, loss of relationships and friendships. No one can completely overcome it. But you can make it your bitch.

Guardian Angel Complex vs. Rough Tough Bitches

 

Ladies, either you are a rough tough bitch, a sap who watches too many romance movies who wants to “fix” your man or wait for the perfect one to magically drop in your lap, or you’re both. Notice there is no perfect option here. If you’re just a rough tough bitch, men don’t want to keep you for too long but see you as a challenge and cry in the corners when they are alone in fear of what you’ll do next. If you are a guardian angel, the shit from many mens’ boot heals is hanging from your eyebrows. If you’re both, men and/or women haven’t the slightest idea of what the hell to do with you.

I, unfortunately, am both. I have journals and photo albums as thick as tree trunks to prove the past mayhem I have put myself through over the years (its not pretty). And yes, I say “I put myself through” for a reason. You are not victims. You are not shiny diamonds waiting to be extracted from your rock. You are not perfect creatures with dreamcicles hanging from your fucking rosy cheeks. We are just as ugly and complicated as men. Through and through. And if you’re both, you’re probably more complicated but would rather throw a bus at yourself before admitting it.

Right now, in this very moment, I am sitting in a low profile bar by myself (by choice), enjoying a beer and minding my own business writing in my blog. For some odd reason, my burlesque T-shirt, hard washed back jeans, fedora hat wearing, tattooed freak gypsy ass seems to be quite interesting to the boring, well pressed couple next to me. They’ve spent the last hour talking over each other, reminding each other not to interrupt, working their asses off to regain motivation to go back to the original interesting subject and attempt not to debate about everything. Then they stop in the middle of conversation to ask me what I am drinking (dirty pear…get one), if this is an iPad and if I am a writer since I have been typing for a while. Hmmm… what about me exactly says “ask me anything you want… I am bored and just WAITING for the opportunity to speak with you”. They are now 3 down on the dirty pear cliff and interrupting each other more, peeking at my iPad every 2 seconds and saying “whatever” a lot to each other. As for myself, I’m 4 down the dirty pear cliff so I could care less. However, the observation still stands. Well pressed girl meets well pressed boy and are more interested in the weirdo next to them than each other. SIDE FACT: Weirdos are the fucking shit. Stay well pressed and look for well pressed and you’ll be miserable unless your sensory gland was removed at birth. There is a reason you like crazy. We all do. It comes with a lot of stinky dung but its a hell of a lot more fun of a ride than floating on a stale briefcase.

Ok back to subject. My point being is we can all smell each other. I can read a man or woman within the first 3 minutes of meeting them. Sounds like I’m bragging but it’s really a curse. You smell danger, dipshit, waste of time, kinda cool cat, princess and darklord from a mile away. By having this gift, those of us who have it make much more spontaneous decisions. We live faster which can also be a curse from hell. Your head spins quite fast and no one can keep up. Its a very lonely world. Hence, we are NO good at relationships. Although we are very keen on keeping people’s interest, its very hard to keep ours.

The average man, down deep, wants the passive Guardian Angel that will be just as simple to please as he is…. yet before he goes to sleep in his cotton sheets, he dreams of the dark temptress rough bitch. This is common ladies… in all men (except for maybe 97 year old retired lawyers/military who have never seen the light of day OR a porno). In the end, there is no formula or success to relationship. Men fuck up… women fuck up… desire overpowers strategic thought. The only thing you can do is this:

ROUGH TOUGH BITCHES: Raise hell and cheers. You’re going to die of a stroke soon. Live fast.

GUARDIAN ANGEL SAPS: Grow a backbone or shut the fuck up and don’t complain.

BOTH: Good luck. I salute your courage and modesty. Just don’t be surprised if no one gets you.

Gripes of Terror Exes

Yes – even a free thinking, free spirited, creative independent Gypsy has an all associated, pissed off ex story. I dont think we ever truly get over the experience of why someone in our life becomes an “ex” or why we became one for that matter. We all think there is no reason in hell that it’s our fault. We blame game, point fingers, cry, get angry, get revenge, speak ill of those we once loved, eagerly piss on old photos (ok maybe that one is just me). But when the ex factor becomes cement, there are very specific orders of thoughts and events where the human mind commonly and strategically acts out within this perfect order.

The Break Up – Indecisive Anger: “What the hell was he thinking? Who is HE to tell me who I am? Only I know me best! Maybe this is fixable. Maybe I did something… oh hell no I did not. Why does HE call all the shots and try to gain control of this fucked up mess of a relationship? Maybe I can talk him into being a nice guy again. Oh hell no I shouldn’t have to do that. How can HE act like HE has all the right and be such a dick to ME?”

Reality: Everyone thinks this about everyone regardless of gender or how wrong the other person was. In the end, we all fight for the same rights: dignity and self respect that we all know we deserve. The thing is, so are they. Its when someone else comes into our lives, we have all these great memories, we open ourselves up and then POW – we or they or both shit on it and kill it faster than it sprouted. Unless you have been the most passive nice person and someone just beat the shit out of you for no reason (only time this blog post does not apply), we are all assholes. As much as I hate to admit that, I will raise my hand and admit that I am a classic asshole who reeks of the next step.

Revenge: When we decide it’s not our fault, we have been wronged and the other person is showing they dont care or are being spiteful, our first response is… “what can I do to get their attention in ALL the wrong ways”. This is indeed the wrong response but human is human and we all do it. Maybe some more than others. Some humans still have self control. But most dont. So when we feel wronged, we become a shadow of ourselves and seek revenge. Such as… going to Barnes & Noble or your local book store and selecting the “bill me later” option and subscribing your ex to every magazine in history. Or ordering the Sunday paper and selecting “bill me later”. Or opening an Amazon account and sending every self disrespecting sex toy to their house Or adding them to wwww.dontdatehimgirl.com. Its a vicious and terrible thing revenge is.

Reality: It all comes back to you times three. Karma is karma whether you believe in it or not. Whether you feel wronged or doubted or disrespected, in the end, no one gives a shit. The fun was the chase and when you were together. At the closing, its an ugly massacre that sprays guilt on both your lives and your houses. So dont be banished as the stories are told.

Welcoming Your Psychotic Nature: Everyone (mostly your ex) will tell you that you are insane. That you need therapy and shouldn’t be able to run loose in society. Their last thought before going to bed is the comfort that maybe at some point you will be placed in a padded room never to be heard from again.

Reality: Fuck em if they cant stand the heat. They shouldn’t have treaded on waters that were rapid in the first place if they couldn’t handle your inner passion.

The End

Frenemies – Another Captain Phoebe Von CatLady Challenge

I am happy to report that my dear friend Phoebe’s blog (futurecatladyconfessions.blogspot.com) continues to make me laugh, think and inspire. She hath wielded yet another challenge at my noggen. So here goes…

FRENEMIES:  is a portmanteau of “friend” and “enemy” that can refer to either an enemy disguised as a friend or to a partner who is simultaneously a competitor and rival. The term is used to describe personal, geopolitical, and commercial relationships both among individuals and groups or institutions. The word has appeared in print as early as 1953.

This topic spawns angry Julie (apologies in advance to the sensitive eye/ear). My primary universal peeve is people who are dishonest, superficial or promote personal gain through destroying the relationships/friendships of others. This is usually due to actions of those who are insecure within themselves and have to act out with special needs in order to feel seen. For example, I recently went to a shindig while my boyfriend (who I had dated for over 5 years) and I were broken for a time being. He showed up freshly gym pumped, Brad Pit stylin and smelling fancy…  multiple female friends who I’ve known and loved for over a decade just about dropped their panties publicly to get his attention knowing he was single. I had only 1 of 2 explanations to digest: unintentional needy female not thinking clearly not remembering the wrath side of Julie -or- an intentional stab in my face with a dull greasy butter knife. I chose to smile and nod as it would have been poor form to spill blood at such an important event. However, you find out who your frenemies are in these situations.

On the flip side, you also know who your true friends are in these situations. I had multiple other close female friends who although were not at this event, have been very supportive in the break up/make up situation and never showed any attempt to drop their panties. Women are devious creatures. We can smell frenemies from miles away. The great thing about this sense is that on a Sunday evening when you’re bored, it poses an opportunity to subscribe the bitches to every “bill me later” magazine on the Barnes & Noble rack as well as cut the power lines and watch them scurry to work on Monday morning late. Then when they get there, you can pour sugar in the gas tank to ensure they have to take a smelly uncomfortable cab ride home and spend the next week trying to fix their car. While it’s in the parking lot, there is always tires exposed and vulnerable. (Tangent – back on track)

Let’s talk about the opposite – male frenemies of a woman. Those that act as if they are the closest friends, want nothing from you but to harbor your inner awesomeness and just hang out and have good times. Then when you’re single, they hump your leg and tell you they were never really just a friend… they just wanted to et jiggy. Those are the worst of the bunch. Many moons ago when the Earth was green, I had a best friend I met through work who pretended he was gay… for over a YEAR. We would have sleep overs, he held my hair on rave nights, we walked through hell together. One year, I asked him what he wanted for his birthday. He said “to have sex with you”. … o_O What?  When I advised that this was not an option, he stated that we were no longer friends. His justification: He had put so much work into our friendship that he “deserved it”. I was crushed. And then I got angry… but thats another story.

So the moral of he story people is that when you think you have a friend, what is the “end” in your friend?

Lame excuses used by people to back out of situations they put themselves in and why they either comfort you (thanks for sparing my feelings pal) or piss you off (seriously? Own your shit, pussy)

A blog topic challenge provided by Captainess Phoebe Von CatLady

Male Lame Excuse #1: “What phone number? That’s not a phone number, it’s my gym locker code. I only went to the bar to watch the fight with my buddies. I didn’t do anything or meet anyone! You’re overreacting!”

Male’s Actual Thought Process: “I’m dressing up to watch the fight because my manliness is just too grand for the ladies not to enjoy. I may or may not meet a girl. If I don’t thats ok because I already have the one I’m used to at home. So I’ll just throw out my mojo and see what happens.” – “Ooops… guess I put out that man scent too fierce-like. Oh well, she’s got a nice ass and there’s no harm in playing single. Yeah boyee! I’ll just not program a name to the number and just ‘harmlessly’ text for attention… she’ll never know.”

No Excuses: If you feel the need to pump up your man juice and enjoy bar hoe attention, you’re probably not getting what you need at home. Bar hoes are only good for just that… a short lived desparate attempt for one night’s butterflies. After that, you’re in the shit because either you go through with it and eventually lose what you already have (women ALWAYS know) or you dont and have a totally different mess on your hands because now you hurt the dumb bar hoe bitch’s feelings (bar hoes are typically psycho – duh… thats why they are always there). Instead of making excuses and creating insecurity in your relationship, be single with honesty or keep your dick in your pants with honesty and work on whats broken in your relationship. Honesty within yourself and to others gets you everywhere.

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Female Lame Excuse #1: “Why can’t I fit in my size 7 jeans anymore? I must have stepped in some nuclear reactive material that makes the female body swell. Or maybe it was the shellfish I ate.. that’s all. It will go away eventually magically – my man better love me anyway or he’s a superficial asshole and it’s his problem.”

Female’s Actual Thought Process: “I’m fat and ugly and insecure. I don’t have the energy to run 5 miles a day. Who the hell does that on purpose? I am just too busy and those heavenly peanut butter M&Ms are a quick snack. If I wasn’t so miserable at work and at home, I might have the energy to diet or work out. I should be able to eat what I want and my man work his ass off to look good for me. Yep!”

No Excuses: Ladies, if you’re putting crappy food in your body, your body is going to look like crap. Facts are facts. And if you want a dignified hot man that is individually successful and has a knack for treating women like gold, you’re going to have to accept that THAT man is not looking for a woman who sits on her ass eatting M&Ms and makes excuses. If you and your man met when you were both healthy, things changed, and now you’re feeling insecure, it’s probably because one or both of you stopped trying. Get off your asses and work out your pudge or eat healthy at the very least. At that point, you’ll either find someone who appreciates the form you have or you’ll both die of heart disease. Stop bitching and do something about it or find someone who matches your lifestyle and deal with it.

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