That Woman

I’m becoming that woman…

 

I am slowly becoming that woman that I read about in books.  I have always envied her.  Her will is amazingly strong. She embodies everything that I believe is mature and adult-like. I never thought that I would have anything in common with her. I was not raised to think like her.  It’s a bit impressive to me that I am beginning to mimic this behavior of hers.  I’m amazed at myself; I think…

Impressed?  Or sad?

I have read about her in hundreds of books over the years.  She’s that woman, the woman who not only doesn’t have a man but isn’t interested in finding one.  That woman who goes on for years without a man because she’s either busy with her career, her children, or has been so scorned that she can no longer even dream of finding someone to love. Sometimes she’s sad, and sometimes not.  Most times she’s just busy, too focused on everything around her and not on fulfilling the dream that the people in her life think she’s missing out on. 

 

She’s not missing out

 

She’s in the movies too, those movies about women finding men and becoming all happily ever after. The movies in which she starts out being complacent with living her life alone but a family member introduces her someone new, or she gets into a car accident with a handsome stranger, or a meddling friend puts an ad on a dating website for her, and of course…she falls in love.  The End.  But in the beginning of the movie she’s alone.  Alone - happy, healthy, and thriving.   And then out of the blue, she’s all madly in love and truly fulfilled – happily ever after.

Alone – yet happy – for years

I never understood this woman. She was utterly foreign to me.  I would read my book or watch this movie and think “how is it possible for her to be happy without a man around”?  There is no way this could be real.  In my mind it was a fantasy, a fantasy like falling in love with a prince and living in a castle. I couldn’t fathom being happy AND alone. I was taught that I must have a man to experience complete happiness.  There was no way I could take care of myself financially, physically, or mentally.  I could only do this with a partner.  I was led, by example, that I should do anything to keep a man because without one – I’d be nothing. 

 

That’s what I was taught and I believed it

Reading about this woman was unfamiliar to me, even as a child.  This was something I had never experienced.  A woman who had no interest in being with a man was unknown to me.  How did she feel whole?  How did she make it through the day not having someone there to guide her and be her rock?  This woman didn’t even think about being with a man.  She was busy.  This just couldn’t be possible.  It couldn’t be real.  No woman could be without a man.  It just didn’t happen.  Not in my world.

Can’t fathom it

As I got older, I achieved what I knew, marriage at 22 because I wasn’t going to be in my twenties forever.  I needed to begin fulfilling my life, with a man.  Divorced at 27 and married again at 29 because I couldn’t stay single for too long. (What would people think?) I was getting older and I needed someone to take care of me.  Divorce the second time was inevitable.  At the ripe old age of 39, I decided to try something new – not getting married.  Had a long term relationship with a pitiful excuse for a man but I had someone to protect me, to keep me whole. Ignore all the things that men do and be taken care of.  That’s what I was supposed to do.  Be taken care of.

I did what women should do

 

I’ve not had a man in my life for almost a year.  I date a bit, sometimes.  I don’t feel it.  I don’t feel like doing the right thing, that right thing that has been ingrained in my being for all these years.  I don’t feel like being with a man. It’s all new.  I feel crazy sometimes.  What is wrong with me?  I’m being called a man-hater, depressed, unsociable, and other names that make me feel like less of a woman person.  I’ve even been called a lesbian because I’m not out banging every guy who hits on me. I’m not (less of a person or a lesbian). I don’t feel like being with a man – not even for sex because even just casual sex seems like it will come with some kind of time commitment that I’m not interested in.  I don’t want to give up my personal time and share it with someone else.  I don’t want to bend or compromise. I’m mad.  Not at anyone in particular.  I’m mad at me for spending most of my life doing what others expected of me.  Not now.  I don’t care if I’m called names and thought of as a bitch or a man-hater.  I’m just not interested.  Period. 

Is this maturity?   It’s scaring the shit out of me.

I am becoming that woman. I am more independent every day.  I am fulfilling my needs and wants.  I am doing exactly what I want to do with every moment of my life.  I know that I’m going against the grain.  I know I’m being looked down upon.  I like my life.  I like where it’s leading me.  I like making my own decisions without asking another’s opinion.  I enjoy parenting how I want, cooking what I want, watching what I want, waking up when I want, going where I want, and doing just whatever the fuck I want, when I want.  I have been at the beck and call of another human being for the last 20 years and now…I am done.  Am I sacrificing this perfect idea of man-woman love?  Maybe.  For now.  But for now, I am happy.  I still look at every man I pass and wonder “Is he the one”? It’s been drilled into my head for far too long.  When it comes down to meeting that man though, I’m simply not interested.  But hey … that woman always had some sappy ending that involved the love of her life.  Maybe that will happen with me.  Maybe. I’ll wait and see and in the meantime I’ll be right over here doing exactly what I want to do.

I’ll still be happy, regardless.

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. 

Naked, Afraid, Ashamed, and Proud

Written and first published on thecoolgirl.com. 

This post has been a long time coming.  While I'm outwardly gregarious, flirty, cute, self-centered, narcissistic, arrogant, big-headed, and even stuck-up at times; on the inside I'm a whole different person.  I'm nervous, shaky, anxious, afraid, self deprecating, and enjoy a self-esteem so low that sometimes I can't even leave the house.

I debated about writing this post because it is completely personal and I will bare a smidge of the inner me. I'm doing it anyway. To quote the infamous scene from Risky Business when Miles told Joel - "Sometimes you gotta say 'What the Fuck', make your move. Joel, every now and then, saying 'What the Fuck' brings freedom. Freedom brings opportunity, opportunity makes your future".   I'm dating myself with that reference but it's totally relevant in this instance.

The reasons I'm writing this post now are many.  I'm getting ready to embark on a new adventure with a new person in my life (yes, you can cat-call or whatever you do) after a fairly long dry spell.  I had an opportunity to write a piece for someone whom I admire the most-est.  I also need to get this out.  For me.  For you. For my daughter.  I want her to read this one day and know that life is about more than one's perceived shortcomings. Also, for all the people who feel the same way I do.  I know that you're out there.  I hope that you're out there anyway or else I'll just be hanging out all by myself. I guess that's okay too.

If you follow my page and/or blog you are aware that I am overweight and that I joke about it often. I am not ashamed.  Being overweight is a small part of who I am.  I am beautiful, I dress well, I'm healthy, I'm active, I'm intelligent, I have a fantastic personality, I'm sarcastic, I'm loyal, I'm pretty damn humorous, I'm a mom (a fairly decent one), and I genuinely like me.  That being said...

I completely flip the frack out when I'm naked.  I'm naked a lot.  I hate pants.  And bras.  And clothes in general.  I'm good with being naked because I'm alone most of the time.  Yes I manage to don clothes when other people are in my presence, because, ewwww.   It's when I study the nakedness.  When I actually look. You know, in the mirror.  The fat-shaming, tell-all, find-all-the-flaws, mirror.  I'm doing this often now because of the anxiety of a new person seeing this naked mess that is me.

I have pale, sensitive skin.  Because of this I have scars, bruises, bumps, scrapes, and other bizarre markings of the pale and sensitive.  I have actually tried to cover that shit with make-up, scar covering, and even facial toner to remove bumps. (Don't lie and say you haven't thought or even done this - please).  My skin gets dry and scaly and the twice daily coating of my skin with lotion is a blast, especially when I'm in a hurry. (always)  If I'm lazy and happen to skip this step, I can head over the school and let the kids use their nails on my body like a human chalkboard.  Good times.

I have huge, veiny boobs that have to be physically lifted so that they don't appear to be ears for my belly button.  The nips are good if I don't say so myself.  The actual boobage isn't so bad except; I'm 44, they're real, and they are heavy as hell.  Picture it.  Sexay.  If I could wear a bra comfortably during sex, I would.  I think they are the part of my body that I'm most self conscious about. Doing that whole on top position is a hell no.  Unless of course there's alcohol involved and well that's a whole separate blog post. They look great in clothes.  Naked?  Not so much. At least not to me.

***WARNING - VAGINA TALK AHEAD

That hot, molten, gash between my legs that rules the world?  It's okay.  I won't be having labia reconstruction anytime soon.  I could totally do with all the hair.  I'm not waxing because in all honesty it isn't that important to me and it hurts.  A lot.  Yes, I keep it shaved up and tidy however, remember the sensitive skin issue from above?  It causes a lot of issues in the very sensitive folds of my lady bits.  My dream is to be hairless from the neck down.  Hair is unsanitary (again, a whole separate blog post) and altogether yucky.  Getting older also causes the random, cool, and attractive,  3 inch long pube.  No, I'm not joking.   However, unless the laser hair removal fairy comes I'll be shaving.  Shaving makes me itch, causes bumps, makes me feel totally grossed out and completely overwhelmed at the idea of maintaining it.  Like I have nothing better to do than spend 30 minutes several times a week grooming my junk?  Sorry.  I'm busy.  It gets done when I have time.  Honestly, I'm not a fan of the bald, 10 year old girl look anyway.  Not sexy.  At all.
         
I'm not even going to bother discussing the dimples on my outer thighs, the flab on my inner thighs, the roll just above my waist, the post baby stretch marks, the surgery scars, the gain weight-lose weight stretch marks (those are different than the post baby stretch marks) and my saggy, wrinkly, fat ass.  I guess I did kind of just discuss them, right?  I'm smart enough to know that most women, fat or thin, have these issues.  That's just something to suck up and deal with.  I'm 44, I've earned that shit. Yes, I'm aware that I could exercise and handle some of these issues, however, this post is about accepting me as me.  How I am.  Now.

I have many male friends who have explained to me that no man is interested in any of the above issues, and I've read numerous articles that reitorate that thought.  In reality most of the time during sexual activity, I'm not worried (except for that floppy boob thing) about any of that stuff because...sex.  It's the other times.  The naked teeth brushing, walking around, getting dressed.  That stuff.  The ugly naked stuff.  The regular every day stuff in the daylight when my body is subject to extreme scrutiny.  I guess this is where that whole love thing is supposed to take over.  Total acceptance and such.  I know it happens.  I've actually experienced it.  Doesn't make it any easier.

In this day in age there are so many great role models who are continually shaping, and reinventing what is perceived to beautiful.  There also many websites and bloggers who maintain a judgment free zone, including this one.  I’m thankful every day for these people.

I have been dealing with the naked demons daily lately and most of the time I win.  I will continue to be proud and grow and every day.

Here's to you beating yours.  Stand proud and fight.

PPB

 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. 

       

Nobody Wants to See Your Shit

This post was written for and originally published on
Original Bunker Punks

Some content doesn't belong on socia media.  There are certain things that nobody wants to see. Nobody.  I haven't polled anybody but it's been the general consensus amongst the assholes I know. I've gathered a list of items that should never be posted on social media.  I have joined 3 of my favorites right here, all together, for your handy-dandy reference:

(Yes, I totally realize that this list has been eleventy million times but, so?  Mine is different, maybe.)

Newborn baby photos (dedicated to the over achieving parent who posts flipbooks of  baby photos to their Facebook Timeline, A LOT) -
This may sound douchey but it's true.  Yes, your close friends and family want to see every single snapshot you took in the dingy ass hospital room.  The rest of your friends list (the fake ones you don't even know) couldn't care less about your damn baby.  And some of you go way the fuck overboard with the closeness.  Naked, bloody, and, that bellybutton tube thing.  All of that shit is straightforward 3rd grade TMI.  A pic of your kid looking all cute is always acceptable and even welcomed (mostly) but all these flower child, non-comforist, beatnik, earthy baby pictures need to stop.  Some really fine people you know don't have kids, are trying to forget they have kids, can't have kids, or are so old the sound of kids make them shudder.  Not that pissing these people off should bother you but it does.  Your the kind of person this behavior would bother, so stop it.  They just can't handle it all.  You can now change your privacy on each post.  You should probably think of doing that.

Your food -
There is not one motherfucker on your friends list that wants to see the meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and corn you prepared for your brood last Tuesday.  You don't even get the close friends & family "like" on your pictures like the baby picture posters do. People just scroll and by and think "asshole" to themselves. Now if you make something really hard (like 10 ingredients or more) and you're going to share the recipe because it was that damn good, go ahead and share the damn picture.  Know this too, nobody wants to see your restaurant food. Stop posting every single piece of sushi of you order.  Everyone has been to a restaurant.  The menus have pictures.  Unless you're recipe sharing or you're making money off that shit, keep your blurry chicken, still lifes to yourself.

Bizarre & vague status updates or tweets - 
When you're lucky (lucky?) enough to boast 1,100 friends on Facebook or have 27k followers on Twitter, don't post shit that contains info that only 3 people you know are privy to.  It doesn't make you look or sound bitchen (totally 80's).  In fact, it makes you seem like a complete bucket of dirty douche water.  The 3 people you know are busy with other people and the rest of the people?  Don't give a fuck what you're posting.  They are too busy hiding your weird ass posts because they don't want to unfriend you and risk pissing off their boss/mother-in-law/spouse/significant other/family member/friend of friend (fill in with your choice).

Example of some really shitty Status Update, Tweet, comment, whatever:

"I'll bet someobody is wishing I was there right now" -I'm betting they don't.  If they did, they wouldn't be on social media, they'd be on the phone - with you.

"Everything in my life just sucks so badly" - Yes it does.  If the only place you have to make this         huge statement is on social media, your life sucks.  There really is no nice way to say it.  You're an asshole.  If you don't have at least one friend, family member or neighbor, you should definitely hit up someone on the internet.  That's a great idea. But, hey, it's all good if that's what you feel you need to do but you could you PRIVATE MESSAGE them? Announcing dumb shit to people who probably won't see it because they're following 33k people and have no clue what you're posting, is unproductive and pointless.   You fall into boy-who-cried-wolf syndrome.  It's a real thing.  Don't get caught up in stupid shit.

Now that I've given you the list, I'll do a bit of explaning.  Just a bit.  Your friends don't hate you. Just because they'd rather see 6 beautiful photos of your precious bundle all dressed up in his first outfit than the 183 dark, grainy photos from the hospital room you posted last night, doesn't make them bad people.  In all reality, this isn't about you.  This is about the rest of the internet.  You cannot bog it down with #allthethings.  You just can't.  It's not cool.  Yes, you should definitely speak your mind and post shit you like but you should do it smarter.  

The implied safety memo, duh...  Be cool when you're posting pics of the crotch monkeys. There's a bunch of fucking creepers out there.  Make sure you know who's on your friends' list or who's following you on Twitter. and who's pinning your recipe for roasted beets.  Have you met these people?  Also, people know that if you're posting pics from the hospital - you aren't home.  Some dude with 2 first names from the internet is sniffing your undies while you're squeezing out your new puppy.  So much wrongness. You're friends care about you, they just don't want to see what you ate, what squeezed out of your hoo ha, or read about your crazy on the daily.

I made up everything you just read.  I literally spewed it.  It's just something I was thinking about and I couldn't help but write.  So all of the above is just the #PPB being an asshole...again.  xx  (It was funny though, right?  And I totally agree with some or most of it)

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. 

Friends? #FriendshipRevolution

A few days ago I was asked what friendship means to me:

 In a nutshell it means you put up with my crazy and I’ll put up with yours.

I do have a few musts-haves because I'm me - 

Loyalty - this sounds like an easy one.  It isn’t.  If you’re my friend you back me up regardless of the circumstance.  You can totally tell me later that I acted like a complete asshole. (I probably was) Talking smack about me, listening to others talk smack about me, and spreading aforementioned smack is also a big bad no-no.  In regards to my smack, keep your face-hole closed.   Standing up for my stupid ass when others are talking the smack will definitely get you bonus points in the friendship arena. You may not fuck, date, flirt, or otherwise engage in physical contact with my boyfriend, husband, date, etc…  Again…seems easy, right?  It isn’t.  My almost 45 years on the planet have shown me that some many bitches who pretend to be your friend will damn sure play mind games – just for sport.  Cum guzzling, bottom feeding, ass munching, fake bitches can easily march the fuck around waving the friendship banner high while trying to figure out how to stab you in the taint with it on the down low.   If say you are loyal to me, be that.  You won’t need to take a bullet for me (maybe) but if I call your ass at 3am because a spider has me trapped in the bathroom you had best come up with something.

Responsibility – not for your family, duh – do that shit on your own time.  I require a responsible friend who doesn’t let me get lost, lose stuff, fall asleep on the beach and fry myself like bacon, leave with a complete stranger, eat too much, or drink too much.  There is an exaception to these rules; If any of the aforementioned shit ends up happening despite your Olympic babysitting skills?  You’re in charge of making it all better.  Yes, I require a damn babysitter.  That’s exactly what I’m saying. I lose money, things, people, and brain cells.    I do okay on my own because I have to, but if you’re in the picture you will damn sure assist my sorry ass with attempting to behave normally.  Trust me; this is for your benefit too.  When I say “Hey, let’s drive to Tennessee for White Castles” at 6pm on a Tuesday night, you have to talk to me down or you won’t be making it to work on Wednesday. 

Thick skin – I will fuck with you until the day you die.  Deal with it.  The more I fuck with you, the more I love you. I can’t be friends with a pussy-assed lollygagger who doesn’t get the joke. I’m always going to go for the joke.  It’s what I do.  Shut up and deal.  If you take yourself too seriously chances are I won’t deal with you anyway. If I have to explain the joke to you, we can’t be friends. Obviously you have to fuck with me too.  Being funny is yet another prerequisite for hanging with all this (points to self using both hands in really creepy, over-sexual manner).  I have to be able to say anything about everything to you.  You can do the same.  No filters. This is not negotiable.  Horrible, awful things may be said and we will disagree. Doesn’t matter.  If I tell you that I like to stick dead frogs down my pants and sing “It’s Raining Men” while I dance the tango you need to just nod your pretty little head and go about your business.  You can think it’s fucking weird because it is.  I can say some freaky shit.  It just pops into my head and flows right out my mouth.  Mostly I say it just to freak you out – DEAL.  Open & honest or you’re an acquaintance.  End of story. 

The ability to drink massive amounts of alcohol without being a douche – this is probably the most important must-have for being my friend.  You cannot be a falling-down, puking, obnoxious, drunk.  You cannot tell me you love me, drool, and yell bizarre offerings at the dude next to us in the bar.  You cannot try and fix me up with your blitzed version of the man of my dreams, or get all involved with the people screaming at the sports on the television. You cannot get all whore-y at the bar and start jamming your tongue down the face-holes of unsuspecting men (unless it has been previously discussed).  If there is dancing - falling down on the dance floor, near the dance floor, or while dancing at your chair is a “fuck no” unless you approve of me laughing, taking photos, and posting them on Facebook.  If we are drunk at my home you are not allowed to break my stuff or get puke everywhere unless you are going to pay have that shit fixed.  I will not be cooking for you or play hostess.  We are there to drink.  We will drink.  If we are drunk at your home do not expect me to accomplish things.  Don’t ask me to come over and do crafts while we drink or bake shit.  Ummmm, no.  My sorry ass can watch a movie, chat, sleep, or eat stuff (that is pre-made, you made, or has been ordered & delivered) whilst guzzling vodka.  No other activities will be tolerated.  I cannot be trusted to take care of myself so you are not to get drunk and act a fool.  That’s my job. 

The friend must-haves are important.  Equally important in a friendship with me is trust.  Trust is interwoven into the 4 qualities. You can’t be loyal without it.  I have to trust you to be responsible.  Being open & honest and having thick skin requires trust and lastly, it is essential to have a mutual trust when you’re completely blotto on the alcohol.  I must be able to trust that we are like Vegas - What happens with us, stays with us. 

All relationships regardless of type require communication, and effort from both sides.   Friendships aren’t easy.  Sometimes they require adult stuff that blows hobo sack.  When done correctly (not the hobo blowing) they rock.  It took me getting totally fucked over a gazillion times before I found healthy friendships (people who would put up with my shit).  I don’t have many.  The friends I have are close.  They have different backgrounds, marital status, income levels, and social standings.  I don’t limit who I’m friends with.  When I find a good un’ I don’t let them go. 

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. Be afraid. 

*For Stephanie, Aly, CB, J,  Bernie & Maria, Sue, Andrea, Amanda, Jeanne, my bitches in the WOP, (we need a cooler name - that sounds racist) and the A2 Papa- xx, my friends.  

Stop Bullies

A bunch of us bunker punks did a word swap where we each get a word (prompt) and have to write about it.  Here's mine: Stop Bullies. I don't follow directions well but here goes...

While bullying and bullies are a huge topic as of late and everybody is up in arms over the whole debacle, I have an entirely different and most likely not popular, point of view on the subject.  Before I give my unique opinion on how to stop bullies, I’m going to explain my stance and give a little background.

I believe the terms bully, bullies, and bullying are used far too often and used by people who have no idea what the actual definition is.  Being that there are several different types of bullying and I can’t stop all the bullies in one blog post I’m going to stick mostly with the generic good ole’ bullies.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t start the post out with a definition.  The definition of bulling according to Wikipedia is as follows:

Bullying is the use of force, threat, or coercion to abuse, intimidate, or aggressively dominate others. The behavior is often repeated and habitual. One essential prerequisite is the perception, by the bully or by others, of an imbalance of social or physical power. Behaviors used to assert such domination can include verbal harassment or threat, physical assault or coercion, and such acts may be directed repeatedly towards particular targets.   If bullying is done by a group, it is called mobbing.  Bullying is divided into four basic types of abuse – emotional (sometimes called relational), verbal, physical, and cyber - It typically involves subtle methods of coercion, such as intimidation.

If the definition above has been read and understood it should be obvious that most of these so called bullies are not bullies, they are just assholes.  Assholes with big mouths, vendettas, poor upbringing, no manners, anger issues, the need to be popular, etc…  Whatever it is, they aren’t bullies so stop calling them that.  They are being given all this false power because of perception.  Incorrect perception and the public’s ability to glom on to a phrase, overuse it, and generalize it, are real problems when it comes to issues like this.  Can you say vicious cycle?

I do think bullying exists.  I just don’t believe that it exists to the extent the mainstream media and overzealous bully hounds would lead us to believe.  Every time a student gets called a name or laughed at because they are wearing bright orange pants or their socks actually match, is not a bully situation.  This is called teasing.  It’s going to happen.  There is not one individual, no matter how cool or popular, who hasn’t experienced this.  It’s human nature.  We must not confuse teasing with being bullied. 

When a kid gets hit at school because he or she acted like a jerk, or they’re arguing with their best friend, this is not bullying.  If my Mini (12 year old middle school girl) fights every day with her friend at school, this is not bullying. This is kids being little shitheads kids.  What about when one kid is bigger than another and they get into a tiff - should we automatically assume that the big kid is bullying the small kid?  Absolutely not.  We cannot assume anything until some questions have been answered. As listed above the 4 types of bulling are emotional, verbal, physical, and cyber.  Size doesn’t matter in any of these situations.  All children are capable of bullying another child.

Let me refer back to the definition listed above for a minute – specifically the underlined sections. Abuse, intimidate, dominate are key words here.  These are serious infractions against another human being.  So if my Mini is calling another student a bitch in passing is this bullying?  Is there abuse or intimidation?  Is she dominating?  I think not. I call bullshit.  Again, this is just my kid being an asshole a kid. Should she be punished?  Hell yes. Should she be labeled a bully?  No.  Now, if my Mini is calling another student a bitch every day and getting her other friends to call this student bitch as well, that is intimidation (causing fear) and therefore – bullying.  Or if my Mini is repeatedly using force to coerce another student to only wear purple on Thursday, this is bullying and harassment. If someone is posting offensive photos, messages, or words on my Mini’s Facebook page every day to taunt her, this is cyber bullying.  If a classmate calls the Mini douche in a Facebook status update one day because she’s pissed at her?  Not bullying.  See the difference?

In my mind adults are incapable of being bullied in most circumstances.  I find the usage of the term bully in conjunction with adults absurd.  I’m aware of behavior out there that is out of control but as able bodied and minded adults we should possess the skills to obliterate this so called bullying before it begins.  Should sexual harassment now be defined as being bullied sexually? Again I think that this is just a generalization of the term bully.  We just categorize everything into one neat little package that makes us feel justified in calling everyone a bully because it’s a cool label. We love labels. It isn’t right and it pisses me off.  This is absolutely ridiculous and adults participating in this farce should be ashamed.

Now that I have blabbed on forever in regards to bullying I’ll address the prompt: Stop Bullies.  In my opinion there are only a few ways:

1.      Know the definition

Ensure that you and your child are aware of what bullying actually is.  Kids will pick on each other.  Know the difference.

2.      Ignore it

This works best with verbal and cyber bullying.  People (especially kids) are lazy.  Ignore it and it will go away.  Is it difficult?  Yes.  Children should have a support system of steel.  Parents, siblings, and other family members should all be there 100% for a child who is being bullied. 

3.      Fight it head on

This works well with physical bullying.  If a child is being physically abused on a repeat basis he/she needs to stand up for himself/herself, period.  Yes, I’m suggesting that a swift kick in the junk of said bully will deter future bullying.  If it doesn’t, we as parents need to get our asses to the school and take charge.

4.      Education/Awareness

Emotionally our children need strength.  Strength comes from within but the ability to use strength to deal with difficult situations is taught.  It should start with the parents but not be limited to them.  There needs to be more education and awareness training and at an earlier age.  We teach children about strangers beginning at birth.  Why shouldn’t this be the same? With the advancements that we have available to us, there is no reason to witness another suicide as the result of bullying.  On the other side, children are taught to bully.  Yes, I said it and yes, I believe it.  The majority of bullies are bullying to become popular.  This is learned behavior.  This needs to stop.  The self-esteem issues of our youth are incredible.  We need to spend more time teaching our children how to be empathic, supportive, productive members of society and to be happy with themselves no matter what.  Children who witness bullying should not be afraid to report it.  They should feel secure and proud in the fact that they are helping a classmate. In addition, every school in this country should have an anti-bullying program.  The funds are available.  How about we spend the money allocated for standardized testing on some anti-bullying programs?   

In closing please keep in mind that these are my opinions.  Having a tween child in middle school could have kept me going on this subject for another 10 pages (be glad I have a job).  In reality I don’t think this is a problem that will be solved quickly or easily.  I think education is the key and I think we as a country are headed in the right direction.  Not quickly enough but the direction is there. 

*I had to add that the morning of writing this story, my Mini called me 3 times at work as she didn’t want to go to school because her cheeks were peeling and she was afraid she’d get called names.  Ahem, she almost got called names – by me.  And her ass went to school.  Not bullying.  Just a bullshitty kid trying to use anything as an excuse to get out of school. 

#OBPwordswap            

 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. Be afraid. 

I want a fucking date

Just what in the actual fuck happened to “the date”- the real date; the kind of date in which the man calls the woman and asks her out for dinner or for drinks.  Prior to which - girlfriends gab, plan, and plot whilst the men folk conjugate with their buddies and brag about their upcoming rendezvous. When the nervousness of what to wear, say, and how to act, ate us up inside and we couldn’t eat for days.  When the thought of spending time with someone we were really interested in caused goose bumps from excitement. When women spent hours primping and men showed up wearing their best outfit and smelling of cologne.  A woman was picked up at her door and driven to the cool new lunch spot on the water or to a dinner at a romantic restaurant. The date in which holding hands, walking, and sitting in a coffee shop for hours happened after the actual date was over.  When the promise of a kiss at the end of a date was such a stressor it caused sweaty palms, nervous stomachs, and lots of awkward smiles.

It seems that the art of dating is all but lost in the easy access of getting on our smart phones and texting or Facebook messaging the object of our desire. Dating in the traditional sense requires planning, courage, and an investment of self confidence.   The simplicity of being able to punch in a few characters and find out immediately if someone wants to “hang out” is far too attractive for many.  It cuts out all of the nervousness and fear of rejection. Rejection is easily ignored via text or messaging.    This form of communication is removing all the character building aspects of learning to woo. Yes, that reads woo.  (Woo – to try and attract someone or engage in a romantic relationship.)  In our current social climate there is no longer a need for charm, romance, or wooing.  This can now be imitated with an emoji. The electronic date is becoming more and more popular.    Is this a good thing?

Hanging out, too, seems to have replaced actual dating.  After hitting up our potential hottie hook-up via text, we hang out.  What is hanging out?  It’s keeping the nips in place and the nut sack from dangling out of an old pair of ripped shorts.  It's spending time with a entire fucking group of people while attempting to attract the person we actually drove all the way out to the middle of nowhere on a Thursday night to see.  Why?  It’s the cool new thing to do - apparently.  And nobody is doing anything about it.  We are all just lemmings following our non-dating leader into singlesville.  How are we supposed to get a girlfriend, boyfriend, or land a relationship when we are always hanging out?  Will it happen eventually or just fizzle out so we can move on to our next hangout?  Should we just go back to hooking up?  At least we were alone with our date.  Sadly? - Banging our way through the hang out probably isn't the best idea.  

Back in the day a man courted a woman.  They got to know each other with no physical contact.  Essentially it was dating - without all the nudity and awkward hanging out.  They got to know each other first.  They enjoyed each other’s company.  Knowing someone before hitting the sheets.  Hmmph.  If we knew what an asshole the person we were about to let invade our nether region was, we might just skip that asshole (might).  It might cut down the number of “walks of shame”, sexually transmitted diseases, unwanted pregnancies, and the good ole’ hang-over regret.  Maybe it’s old fashioned and out of touch with the reality of today’s dating scene but it’s worth a shot.  Isn’t it?

In closing and in my personal opinion, I want a fucking date; a real old fashioned date.  I want to be asked out.  I want a friendly stalk.  I want a man to see me in a random shop and hunt me down to ask me on a date.  I want charm.  I want some effort.  I want to feel like I am wanted.  I want someone who wants to spend time with me to think enough of me to put his ego aside and go for it.  Men need to be men.  Get over yourself, grow a set, and ask me the fuck out. 

*No.  I don’t think any of the above will happen but a girl can dream so suck it.*

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. Be afraid. 

Happy Muthafuckin Sibling Day

I don’t talk much about my sister because she’s an entertainer and all my fucks & anal leakage aren’t really good for her career.  Whatever. 

 

Because today is national sibling day, I will write about her a wee bit.  (Ha.  I said wee) 

 

Here are my most favoritest fucking things about my baby sister:

·         She has no children

·         She’s 10 years younger than me

^·          She was born on February 14th (easy to remember)

·         She’s way purty (I like purty people)

·         Her boyfriend is really hot

·         She gives not one single fuck about how much money someone has, or how they look

·         She will play “Fashion Police” with me (yes, we make the siren noise and everything)

·         She has a disgustingly sick sense of humor (runs in the family?)

·         She has no children

·         She’s really tall so I can make corny jokes about her height (she still laughs)

·         She’s completely ADD so she never remembers anything I say so I say lots of stuff

·         She’s the fastest texter ever

·         She’s all perfect & pretty & will scarf down 4lbs of crab legs and a cheeseburger in one sitting

·         When we go to the gym (it has happened) she doesn’t talk (I hate talkers at the gym)

·         She has no children

·         She never pays attention so it’s really easy to get over on her (I would never take advantage of this, ha)

·         She lives far away from me (shaddap – we’d kill each other)

·         She buys really good gifts (she forgets to send them but they arrive – eventually)

·         She had the balls to have a knockdown, drag out, fight with a pregnant woman on top of a mountain in Switzerland (I was the pregnant woman)

·         She can drink a lot (not soda, duh)

·         She loves the beach (just like me)

·         She’ll eat all kindsa wacky assed food and then shove some in your mouth so you can try it too (even when you don’t want to)

·         She has no children

·         She’s seen me naked and said it wasn’t that bad (that’s a huge compliment – snort)

·         She left her cat with our mother when she moved (I did the same thing – sorry mom)

·         She thinks I’m funny

·         She finds really good shit and then tells me about it

·         She turns me on to cool music

 

And best of all she still claims me as her sister regardless of all the bullshit I talk.  Also, I’m still prettier than her.  So that.

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. Be afraid.