PPB aka The Precious Princess - The Princess is a twice divorced, recently dumped, recently unemployed, self-proclaimed member of the mentally hilarious. She has been referred to as living under a rock stocked with vodka and anger. Her 12 year old “Mini”, who is carbon copy of the Princess, is often the subject of blogs, and Facebook posts. In addition, she writes about dating, the dumbness of boys, life after 40, and shares stories from Bananaland which is both her past and current residence. She is the owner/sole admin for the Facebook page Precious Princess's Guide to Bananaland where she is famous for her rants and her blunt, honest, and sarcastic look at life. She blogs both extremely funny and all-the-feels posts at Princess Bananaland. She hates people, kids, and karaoke. She uses all the swears and makes up dirty words. Eventually when she’s done being sloth-like, she will write a book. Be afraid.
Monday, March 9, 2015
Pissed and it's my fault
Today I am pissed.
Not like most days when I wake up with something to bitch about. It’s not like that at all. Today I am pissed with myself. I try like hell to keep my name out of other’s mouths. I do. I avoid people, I avoid conflict, and I avoid bullshit. As soon as something gets bull-shitty? I’m out.
Today I am pissed because I allowed myself to get involved with bullshit. I try to be two things, honest and nice. I try my best not to hurt people’s feelings. I may not be the most patient person and after I down a few, I’ll tell you exactly what I think about you but only if you ask. I’m nice until it’s time not be nice. I will treat you how you treat me. I am pissed because I don’t even like doing that. I’m just done. My time shouldn’t be wasted with superfluous and mundane bullshit that’s passed off as being “adult”
I am tired of being nice to people that I can’t stand because it’s supposed to be mature. Fuck that. I don’t find it mature to spend time with people I can’t stand. I find it nonsensical, useless, and a waste of time. When I’m invited to a social gathering and fucks I wouldn’t trust to use my bathroom are attending, I don’t want to play.
I understand the art of being nice in work situations or in public situations. That’s a given. I put my phony face on and wear that shit all damn day. There are people I have to deal with because of a marriage and people I have to fake it with for work but I will no longer spend my precious free time with people I want to set on fire. Am I immature? I don’t think so. I think I’m smart. I think I’m a time saver.
The whole pretending to like someone for another person doesn’t work. In fact, it fucked with part of my weekend. I missed out on some good times with fantastical friends because I believed a lie. I actually believed that someone gave a shit about my feelings and was giving me a lil respect. Not so much. I was expected to hang with people I don’t dig, lie about not digging them, and take the backseat to them. No.
I missed out on seeing two people I adore. I didn’t go to a party I was invited to. I didn’t go to one of my favorite band’s gig. I didn’t do any of these things because, people. I hate people. Every damn I try to step outside the box a dumb motherfucker crushes the box. Now there are useless fucks out there with my name on their tongue. My beautiful name on nasty, twisted tongues because I tried to be honest and nice. Nicely & honestly telling people that I have no use for them in my life would have had two-fold positivity:
1 – I wouldn’t be pissed today
2 – You could be eating chicken & waffles instead of reading this
I’m not sorry that I don’t want to deal with certain people. That’s my choice. It’s not that often that I open my tiny circle and head to a public setting. When I do, it must be with people I respect, can laugh with, and who just completely rock. If I leave my comfort zone, it’s to have a kickass time with people I enjoy. There’s no other reason. Not to pick up men, not to argue, not to avoid, not to be hidden, and it’s for damn sure not so I can be a phony, plastic, bitch. It’s to enjoy myself; period, end of story.