Wednesday, July 25, 2007

The mystery of people

I realize I'm not a "people person". I don't, in general, enjoy strangers. I love my friends, have a blast with acquaintances but I can do without strangers. I have a slight reputation for being "that bitch married to the Spacemen guy". I don't mean to come off so cross or unapproachable but that's just how I am. My feelings are always worn on my sleeve, for everyone to see. I say what I mean and I mean what I say. I don't do "fake" well. So you'll understand why I have such a problem understanding people different than myself.
I'm beginning to recognize behaviors in people (by that I mean friends, family and strangers alike) which I do not possess; specifically, manipulative personality. Let's go back, way back to my childhood. In the family I grew up in, there was no bullshit. If someone was upset about something, anything, we'd say it outright. "You're pissing me off because you did this, this and this." Lots of words were thrown around, our feelings were expressed and we cried a lot of tears. But then it was over. We'd get mad, yell and by the time we saw each other again, we're long over it. And more times than not, it was never brought up again because it was resolved from the get-go. It's my opinion that this method is the definition of fighting fair.
It seems that many people in my life have an agenda, an underlying tone and I'm having serious difficulty coping with it. Manipulative personality confuses me. If you have something to say, say it; please don't make an accusatory insinuation, refuse to clarify and not give me a chance to defend myself. If you're upset about something, let me know so I can fix it. I cannot figure out why people behave like this (I'm just a writer, I'm not a shrink, ok?), I'm sure it stems from their own childhood or whatever...quite frankly, I don't give a damn.
Luckily (?), I'm surrounded by manipulative people who are also honest in their faulty fighting strategies and they're helping me understand ways to embrace people with this difficult personality.
Do you have someone in your life who's especially challenged in this department? How do you deal with it? Are you one of those manipulative assholes...I mean, friends? Please, friends, help me. How can I work through this?

Tuesday, July 24, 2007


Ok, so, I'm going away on vacation next week and I'm sort of (read: completely) freaking out. I don't travel well and I haven't flown since 9/11. Not to mention, we couldn't get a direct flight to New England so it will be a 10 hour travel day. With a hypochondriac husband and whiny 6 1/2 year old. Oh fucking joy.
On the bright side, I've stocked up on medications such as Xanax and Valium.
Plus, I'll get to pick blueberries on real farms, have coffee and cigarettes in the mountains and visit with people I love the most. And 5 days with my family? I'm sure to return with some seriously funny writing material!
So, God, if you hear me, (no, it's not Margaret. It's Sophia. Remember me?) please, please make sure we arrive and return from our destination safely.
There! Positive thoughts put into the universe and whispered into God's giant ears. If you're the praying type, whisper some more for me, ok?

Much love, BITCHES!

The quest is finally over!

Prelude: This post is about boobs. My boobs.

I didn't develop at an unusual age-I pretty much blossomed right along with my friends. Except, my boobs kept getting bigger and didn't stop until after I had the Chicken. I always used to read about girls who had animosity towards their chest, I wouldn't describe my feelings as animosity. No, I loved my boobs. I embraced them and put them up on a pedestal (ha!). If they'd had Girls Gone Wild on South Beach when I was actually old enough to be on GGW, I would totally be in one of those videos right now. (The early stages of GGW, people! Not the gross versions now where girls are making out, naked in the shower.) For all the love I've had for my breasts, I hate bras. Rather, bras hate me. I've never found a bra to fit me properly. In fact, I'm not even sure of my own bra size!
Go for a fitting, you say? Yeah, can't do that. See, I have an adversity to strangers feeling me up. Oh sure, I've tried to have fittings but every time I go to the fancy department store (read: not Target), the boobie "specialist" was either "training" (which my boobs are not) or just plain creeped me out. My friend, Stacey, has gone bra shopping with me but finding a great bra is like finding the perfect pair of ass jeans. Just not happening for me. Instead of bearing through the dreadful fitting, I continue to buy cheap, ill-fitting bras from Target.
Until last weekend. I bought several cheap (read: clearance!) bras from Wal Mart (ha!) that actually fit. Ok, so they sort of enhance the back fat but that's no thing a little camisole can't conceal. This is big news, folks!
And even though I seem to have found the perfect bras, I know there's lots of you out there with similar issues. What do you do?

Thursday, July 5, 2007

Happy Birthday, America!

I spent 6 hours cooking and cleaning for a (very, very) small gathering at our "crib" (I love ghetto) yesterday. Our guests included my mother and her "friend" Susan, Papi Gringo (also known as my wealthy, salsa dancing, Jewish-but-wants-to-be-Puerto Rican brother in law), Young Money (brother in law's 12 year old son who's voice is getting deeper as quick as he's becoming black) and our tiny little unit. It was nice. We had a lively debate about money and how it rates on the "happiness" charts, marriage and sex. You know, usual family discussions. (Oh, not your family? Well, welcome to mine.) We also watched comic Katt Williams-if you haven't seen him, try to youtube some of his stuff...especially if you love the ghetto-like me.

Now onto the real reason I'm writing today. I'm sad to tell you that, even though you've received little attention from me this summer, it's about to get a whole lot worse. Big Brother starts tonight and I've already got my live feeds going and basically, I'm a loser. But who asked you? Also, to my real life friends, please don't call me on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 8-10pm. Thank you.

Oh, you thought it was a little joke I was writing? I'm not. BB is very serious for one in my house gets any play when I've got live feeds on. In fact, I have the most in-depth conversations only with my mother (a bigger BB fan than I) to discuss strategy & other BB house stuff. It might be pathetic but it's the only TV I'm serious about watching. Give a sister some slack, ok?