ain’t no holla back girl

Having someone look you in the face and tell you a straight up lie hurts more than anything I’ve ever felt. It says hey I don’t respect you enough to give you the truth you deserve. Most of the time I just keep my mouth shut and let it eat me up from the inside. It’s their life they are hiding. It’s not my job to be their caller of bullshit.  I don’t care how long it’s been. It still stabs me to remind me from time to time. But let’s get real, no one is 100% honest. We tell little white lies. We say we’re ok when really we’re falling apart. When you’re truth comes out via someone’s elses mouth, that’s the worst. I understand females feel the need to help each other out but sometimes I wish you would just leave me here ignorant and blissful. This world is dirty and sleezy and I’m just trying to get my bubbleness and sunshine back. I’m trying to not let everyone’s self decisions bring me down. They will chose something over you everytime but I have the control to chose myself. Everytime. I want to turn your hatefulness to love. Kill you with kindness. Just got to brush the tears out of my eyes, the dirty off my knees and keep my head up. I want to live. Really live. But let me cry myself to sleep one more time, I’ll pick it up in the morning.

ive got this, right?

Stay classy fuckers ❤


Wanna ride the rollercoaster?

Here I am. Tears rolling down my face as I sit in this ridiculously huge office chair. I’m stuck on this emotional rollercoaster and I want off sooo bad. Most of the time I try to write off my feelings by telling myself I just had a bad day at work, I’m overstressed, or my birth control is making me a hormonal mess. I overthink and worry about everything. It is who I am. Is the overthinking the reason why I don’t feel enough? I’m in a relationship that I want to keep forever but I can’t get my boyfriend to speak of anything that involves the “F word” Feelings. He either turns it into a joke or completely ignores it. This lack of communication has me sitting here like, is it me? Have I done something? Maybe if I was a tall skinny blonde with amazing boobs, maybe then he wouldn’t have any issues telling me how he feels. This is all my insecurities, I know this. I just would like a little feedback so I can quite them. These insecurities stem from being a nosey girlfriend and going thru his phone a long time ago. He mentioned that I wasn’t his type since I’m a bigger girl but I was cool and his kids liked me but I was nothing like this one girl he was trying to get in his bed. It hurt my feelings. He just said oh that was just guy talk. And that I was being JEALOUS. That day I learned that I shouldn’t go thru my man’s phone unless I’m looking to get my feelings hurt. We talked about it, moved on. Things are great in our relationship. He’s my best friend. But every time I tell him I love him, or every time I lay in the bed with something sexy on wanting him to ravish me and he just falls asleep, I just think about those messages and beat myself up about not being this skinny hot girlfriend that he wants. I want him to tell me I’m beautiful and he loves me. But if he said those things would he be lying to me? I guess this is why they say you should fall in love with yourself in order for someone to be able to fall in love with you. I don’t love myself. I mean I have good days where I feel like I can take on the entire world. But most days I just want to lay in bed and have a pity party for one. Geez the more I type the more I feel like a whiney bitch. When did I become so dependent on the feedback of a man? That is so not me. I don’t know what to do but shut down…. Am I losing my shit? Is this all in my head?

Until I figure this shit out,
Stay classy, Assholes. ❤

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas….

I’m tired of the everyday routine. I want to be thrown out of it. I want to feel bliss and beauty. I want to be ravished and appreciated. Even just for a moment. I want love and complete trust. I’m sick of assuming that everything out of anyone’s mouth is BS. But more often than not they prove it’s nothing BUT. I’m sick of expectation being the reason for heartache. I’m even sicker at the thought that I would continue to expect anything but the worst.  All I want for Christmas is to feel a moment of happiness. But it would be more realistic to ask for that hippo.

Merry Christmas Assholes, Stay Classy.

Idiots guide to being a hotmess.

It’s been a hot minute. What a shame. Let’s play a little catch up.

I’m still tired. God am I tired. My list of TO DO’s is slowly growing longer and my energy to take care of it all has been depleted. I need like a month off from adulting.

I tried to walk away from the man that I loved because he wasn’t willing to commit. He wouldn’t let me. He has locked me in his house, forced me to be his girlfriend and makes it mandatory that I sleep in his bed. He also forces grilled meat and jalapeno Cheetos on me.

Downside. I feel like me trying to leave has forced him into commitment and it’s not really what he wants but he doesn’t want to lose me. Hopefully we can grow and this won’t cause us to fail in the future. All I can do is have faith and try right? I really want this to work, nothing has ever worked. I want to love and feel loved. I want a somewhat functional family to fill up all the seats at the dinner table. I want this. I want him. He’s my best friend, my person, my love. Fingers crossed.

As I age my irresponsible drinking stories don’t come as often. But you’re in luck today. The mamas decided to go out for a drink and catch up. Who knew it would become such a hotmess.

A couple of weeks ago my friend asked me to come meet her for a quick drink on a Monday night. She is a new mom and needed a break. We use to be big drinking buddies in the past. We drank like fish, ALL the time. These days, I can get wasted off 2 glasses of wine. So cut to I meet her at Bar 1 at 7:30pm. The game plan was to chat over a drink and an appetizer. Neither one of us had ate all day and we’re starving. Two sips into my high alcohol content fancy dark beer, this bitch looks and me and says “Chug that shit we’re going bar hopping.” So as a responsible adult….I do as I am told. Hop in the car with her and on to Bar 2. Bar 2, drink special: $3 mimosas. This is trouble. Order a drink, chug it, pay, onto the next place. Bar 3 is a Mexican restaurant that closes at 9. It is currently 8:45. In the 15 minutes of sitting at the bar, my friend has Spanglish shit talked the bartender about his weak pouring skills, making our $3 margaritas super strong. We order 4 drinks a piece because we’re getting cut off. The last drink has now become a To Go drink thanks to the plastic cups behind the bar. All garnished with a lime and a cherry. Get to the car, my friend vomits. Into her TO GO cup. Hops in the car and takes me back to mine. I am now on the mission for food. You know, what I should have eaten hours ago to prevent this intoxication. Keep in mind it is now only 9:00 pm. How did I get wasted this fast? I drunk call the sushi place down the street and order a spicy tuna roll and a bowl of miso soup. I’ll shove it in my face on the ride home. Pick up the food, not sure if I have even paid but at least I walked out with 30 chopsticks. On the ride home I try to drink my soup. Key word. TRY. Keep in mind that I drive a low rider car that makes a small bump in the road feel like you just drove over an entire mountain. Called King daddy to let him know that if I’m not home in 15 minutes then I’m dead and make him aware of my soup drinking struggle. “It keeps fighting back, but I will prevail.” I flung hot soup all over myself and the entire car for the whole ride home. Why did I not just put the damn soup down? No clue. I was going to finish that bowl of soup one way or another. It’s been 17 minutes, King daddy calls. In distress I let him know that I’m coming down the drive way, covered in soup. Park the car, and my door opens. It’s king daddy with his phone flash light on. How sweet of him to open the door and bring a light to help me in the house right? WRONG. He was recording me falling out of my car, with soup soaking every inch of my shirt, pants and seat. I go inside, strip all my soupy clothes off. (BTW I couldn’t find those clothes for a week) and sit on the bed and proceed to force feed myself and King daddy sushi. I’m a boss with these chopsticks. He can’t stop laughing. I try to crawl on top of him and I’m immediately hit with the spinney world syndrome. I fall asleep to “You left here at 730, you were home by 930, How in the hell did you get this drunk?” See what had happen wassss….

I’m a hotmess. It’s what you love about me the most.

FYI I’ll try to do better with keeping up with my blog. Writing keeps me sane. Even if it is about nothing and everything.


Missed you guys, Stay classy Assholes!


Put that booty on my Gucci belt.

I imagine if you were to take a peek inside my mind, it would look like something on the show Hoarders. Chaos. Shit everywhere. Not one organized thought. I’ve got so much on my mind and every time I try to express myself I feel like I am not getting my point through. Typing it out seems to help. So here goes nothing….

I’m fucking tired. I’m in a fog. I could sleep for 3 days and still be tired. I’m falling asleep at work in the middle of phone calls with customer service. I’m not sleeping at night because I lay there and stare at the ceiling wishing, wanting, waiting…. Plus side is I’m not eating that much either cause I’m too tired and I always feel so sick on my stomach. Yay for unhealthy weight loss.

Also work can go choke on a bag of dicks. The bullshit that I have had to deal with all week is above my pay grade. Every time I close my eyes all I see is numberssssss. Save me I’m drowning in patient accounts.

I was brought up being taught that if something was wrong, you stfu and kept it to yourself. I had no voice, the only expression you could really have is the fake smile I had to give my father when he came home from work. My family doesn’t say “I love you” unless some serious shit is going on. I have a problem with confrontation with men due to the fact that I spent a good majority of my time with my head down, arms behind my back, and a bitter man yelling down at me. I tried talking to someone about some things going on between us that was bothering me and the entire time I felt guilt. I felt like I was becoming a burden because I wasn’t happy about something. I felt like It was all my fault. I just want to unapologically express myself but all these insecurities won’t get out of my way.

I’ve got it bad for King Daddy. Yeah you know the man I was supposed to just have fun with and not catch any feelings? Well those little feeling fuckers bit me hard. And I knew it would be like this the first time I sat on my couch and talked to him. Him and his girls feel so much like home to me. I have cried for 8 fucking years about just wanting to be able to feel what it’s like to have a complete family, and they have given me all of that. I feel so full. But….the deeper I find myself falling the more my insecurities start coming out into the light. You know all those ones I have such a problem talking out loud about. I want him, just him. I have wasted so much of my time trying to force myself to talk to other men to avoid getting caught so deep in him. Doesn’t work. Just trying to carry on casual phone conversation makes me feel sick. I haven’t wanted to, or even wanting to think about going to bed with another man. It doesn’t feel right anymore. I’m just his friend. That one word has been like a giant cement wall prohibiting me from communicating any kind of feelings and future. The fact of him hooking up other women didn’t bother me. What really bothered me was the fact that these weren’t just hookups. He was having full on relationships with these women and I felt like they were sitting around like a lost love sick puppy just like me. Which makes me feel like I’m just part of the rotation and Im going to get dropped like a pile of rocks whenever he finds what he really wants. That breaks my fucking heart. Having to distance myself from him and his kids would kill me. I’m in way too deep and it’s fucking scary. But here’s the thing… He’s been married for 10 years did the whole love, baby carriage, heart break, divorce situation. Why would having me in his life other than just a friend even be a thought for him? See here’s comes the guilt. I feel guilty for wanting to be selfish with him. I can’t help it. I want him. The good, the bad, the past, the future, and definitely the beer belly. I want to know how he feels…..


You’ve ruined me in the best kind of way. You’re my best friend. I have never had so much fun with someone in my life. Please stay with me.

Stay Classy Assholes



I’ve seen more spine in jellyfish.

It’s one of those “I’m going to spend my break crying in the car” kind of days. It’s like the weight of the world has been tugging me down all day. I feel so insignificant and small. I don’t feel beautiful and I don’t remember the last time that I did. I’m physically, and emotionally tired. I’m too old to feel this unaccomplished. UGH. I don’t feel like adulting today.

Happy Birthday to me. Stay Classy assholes.

All my drinks and all my feelings are all mixed.

Someone told me something the other day that physically made me sick. It’s like their words wrapped around my heart and squeezed it so hard I could barely breathe. These words left me feeling small, insignificant and used. I find it crazy that I let such a thing consume my emotions. I was angry, I was hurt, and then I tried to convince myself that I didn’t care. I care too much and I don’t want to because that my friend is how you get your heart broken. I don’t want to get hurt. I just want to love and be loved. It’s just a phase right?

Fuck those feelings, stay classy assholes.

Who are you and why are you in my house?

I think some people just need to take a break from adulthood and go back to their mama’s house and get taught a few things over again. Because honestly, what the fuck is wrong with people. Why do they lack so much common sense.

Can we talk about “staying with a friend for a few days”

  •  First off it’s never “a few days.”
    If they start talking about having plans with you next week, that means they plan on still living with you next week. “a few days” easily transforms into 2 months.
  • The boyfriend will always be tagging along. He will also want to eat your food and drink your beer.
  • Fuck him. Don’t let him have shit.
  • “If the light bill goes up I’ll throw you some money”
  • You won’t ever see anything but their shit laying all over your house.
  • Is that my fucking shirt you’re wearing?
  • Are they seriously fucking in my house? Just don’t do it, it’s rude and I don’t wanna lay in bed at night listening to that shit.
  • No you can’t invite friends over to drink a few beers.
  • Well fuck. I guess I better start paying you rent now cause apparently you think this is your fucking house.


Get the fuck out. Now.

But stay classy you fucking assholes.