Bitch’s Guide to New Year’s Eve

New Year’s Eve can be bad or great, but it’s probably going to be bad.  If you are a bitch, or you like bitches, or you think bitches are funny… here are some tips.  Enjoy!

1.  Shoes.  Wear shoes that you feel comfortable in all night.  You have to spend all of the hours up to midnight and beyond in shoes.  People will be drunk and there will be broken glass.  You cannot walk around barefoot.  You cannot walk home barefoot.  You must wear your shoes.  Don’t be “that girl” who spends the whole night whining about her friggin’ feet.  Don’t be the girl who can’t walk in her shoes.  You know the one.  The one who scuttles from place to place and must perch wherever she lands.  The one cannot actually walk without tripping.  The one who topples into the bathroom to re-apply her lipgloss.  Don’t be that girl.

2.  Booze.  Remember, you will be drinking for a long time on this Eve of the New Year.  Your body will be exposed to so much.  You should invest in mid-level liquor – at least.

3.  Shots, specifically.  Keep count.  Even if it means you have to take a sharpie to your arm (a mark for each drink), you must track your drinking.  You are in for a long night, so you gotta have a plan.

4.  Food.  Bitch, you gotta eat!  If you eat nothing, you will pass out.

5.  Cleavage.  This really depends on what kind of bitch you are.  It’s New Year’s Eve, so go nuts.  Show off your boobies.  Get slutty.  Do whatever.  As a really bitchy bitch, I really don’t care what other bitches are wearing on New Year’s Eve.  It’s like Halloween… Free pass.

SO MUCH CLEAVAGE.

6.  Dates.  If you bring a date to a New Year’s Eve party, make sure he/she isn’t a dumbass, can hold his/her liquor, and that your date can dance.  There will be WOO-WOOs.  Make sure they are ready.  Don’t be the girl with a lame-ass date.  Go solo if it comes to that.

7.  Boyfriends.  If you bring your boyfriend or girlfriend, they SHALL NOT GET SHITTY.  They shall bring mints and make out with you at midnight.  They shall bring you drinks.  They shall dance appropriately.  THE BOYFRIENDS SHALL BE FUN.

8.  Dancing.  Please do as little grinding as possible.  Please whip your hair.  Please shake it good.  Please do some work out there.  Sweat it up.  Do yo’ thang.

9.  Tampons.  Someone will need a tampon – it might be you.  Just bring a damn tampon.  You’ll be someone’s hero and it will feel great.  Good for you.

10.  Bi-Curiousness.  You gotta kiss somebody at midnight.  I’m not here to judge that part of you.

11.  Hats.  Party hats are fucking annoying.  Do not make anyone wear one.  If you want to wear one, that’s great… It tells the rest of us that you’re a dumb ass.  Seriously, suck it.  Hats are sucky.

12.  Driving.  You will be drinking.  Just get a cab.  Your only other option is to crash where you are.  The likelihood of someone staying sober enough to be the DD later on is low.

13.  Glitter.  A little glitter goes a long way.  If you’ve got a sparkly dress, maybe cool it on the bling and the white/silver eyeshadow.  Be sparkly, but don’t try to imitate the NYE Times Square ball.  You don’t need 10,000 blinking lights to be beautiful.  Also, if you do happen to over-glitter, it will get on EVERYONE.  I don’t want to wear your damn glitter, so stay the hell away, Ke$ha!

14.  Underpants.  Just wear them.  Underpants are always, always worth a panty-line.  Don’t be the girl without underpants on.  We don’t want to see your hoo-ha.  Anyone interested in your hoo-ha will happily wait to see it.  Seriously, I don’t want to see a single baby-factory on the dance floor or getting out of a cab.  We all have underwear.  Wear yours.

15.  The Midnight Kiss.  Just go for it, bitches.

Ten Things that Suck About the Holidays

1. Babies.  There will always be babies on your flight(s).  My day before Thanksgiving flight had five–count them–FIVE screaming babies.  Thankfully it was only a 90 minute flight.  (There truly is a god.)

2. Weird Family Members.  You have a to spend a lot of time trapped in small places with (awkward, annoying, or odd-smelling) family members.  Not only are you stuck next to Uncle Bill (who always hugs you just a little too long when you see him), but now you have to hold on to your sister’s/brother’s/cousin’s child who you’re pretty sure just dropped the baby equivalent of a nuclear bomb in his diaper.

3. Relationships.  Are you married?  Are you dating?  Are you going to get engaged soon?  You should have kids!  When are you having kids?  Why are you single?  Where is your boyfriend?  Why didn’t you bring your girlfriend?

4. There is never enough Egg Nog.  Or there’s only enough Nog without any rum.  And who really wants Nog with no rum?

5. Fake Wars.  The “Keep the Christ in Christmas” people are back.  Just when you were getting over your rage from their obnoxious and nearly-constant Facebook posts from last holiday season, here they come again.  Y’all are in the majority, Christians.  Nobody is trying to take Jesus away from you.  Calm the eff down. Some of us Jews/Muslims/Buddhists/Atheists/Secular Humanists want to be friendly and wish you joy.  Just accept it nicely and move on.

6. Shopping.  There is so much shopping to do.  It’s expensive and all the people surrounding you in the store are terrible.

7. Mistletoe. This is a dumb tradition. And it can get really awkward when you’re at Christmas parties with your ex-boyfriends, girlfriends, lovers, booty-calls, etc.  I don’t want to kiss people I don’t know.  I don’t want to kiss most people.  Please don’t make me kiss anyone.

8. Wrapping Paper.  I hate wrapping paper.  It is awful and wasteful and messy and wasteful and expensive and wasteful.  It’s not good for the environment.  It’s not good for anything.  BUT HOW ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO PRESENT THIS CRAP I BOUGHT PEOPLE?  I know, I know… I could re-purpose an old t-shirt.  I could use some bags or newspaper – and I’ve done that.

9. Stressed Parents.  Specifically, parents who are stressed and in public places with their children.  The children are being awful.  A few days ago, I saw two kids sitting in a cart, one kid was beating his sister in the head with a box; she just took it.  She was too tired to fight off his awfulness.  Kids are crazy.  Parents are tired.  They will hit you with a cart and not think twice about it.  They probably won’t think once about it.  They don’t care about you; they just want to buy a damn barbie and leave.

10. Fatness.  You will get fatter, and then you have to go back to work – fatter.

I don’t care, but now I know. Pop Culture Edition!

Here are a list of things I don’t care about, but I know now.  Now, you get to know too.

  1. Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez broke up.  She dumped him.  He is not coping well.
  2. Justin Bieber’s pants are absurd.  See AMA performance.  (Google it yourself.)
  3. David Petraeus is a man whore.  Info.
  4. Snooki has a baby.
  5. Mitt Romney’s family is huge.  See photo below.
  6. Jessica Simpson looks great.  She lost all the baby weight.  Here.  Also, photo below.
  7. That reminds me, Jessica Simpson had a baby girl and named her Maxwell.  Maxwell.
  8. Apparently, Nicki Minaj might have butt implants.  I’m pretty neutral on this.  I will not research it.  Feel free.
  9. Taylor Swift cut her hair, or wore a wig.  Here.
  10. James Bond is a sexist and probably a rapist.  “What a shock!,” said no one.  This is just so disappointing.

Romney Clan:

 

Jessica Simpson:

A Hobo is not a Halloween costume

Halloween: the chance, once a year, to pretend to be someone you’re not. I like to think Halloween costumes say a lot about a person. They also say a lot about what we think but never say.

Take this, for instance:
I saw a picture recently of friends of friends of friends dressed up for Halloween. They were supposed to be homeless, complete with “Will Work for Food” signs, tattered jeans, and worn out flannel. Similarly, I see people every year wearing sombreros and telling people their costume is “A Mexican.” Or folks who stick some feathers in their braid and throw on a pair of moccasins to be “An Indian.”

Not okay.

Halloween apparently is not only a time to “be someone else” for a day (or two, or three, depending on how many times you celebrate), it’s time to let our collective, offensive, racist American id run wild because it’s hopped up on too many Reese’s peanut butter pumpkins and Four Loko. Do I think these people mean to be offensive? No, likely not. Really they just want to shotgun some Busch Lights and hook up with the cute guy in the “Where’s Waldo?” costume. Being an historical figure (who is, perhaps, Native American or Mexican/Latino) would be one thing, but to say “I’m (ethnic stereotype – regardless of negative, neutral, or positive implications)!” is short-sighted, foolish, and–well–racist.

There’s a certain responsibility that comes along with picking and putting on a costume; any costume you wear inevitably says something about you and your attitude toward other people. Choosing insensitive costumes matters. Just ask the employees of Steven J. Baum’s firm in Buffalo, New York. These geniuses thought that it was a good idea to dress up as homeless people and create fake sections of foreclosed homes at their office Halloween party. Are you outraged? Yes, you likely are. And so should you be. At the same time, however, these people dressing up as homeless people for Halloween is not much, if any, worse than when people who aren’t legal actors in the foreclosure crisis do it.

This Halloween, dress up. Go out. Drink Four Loko to your little heart’s content, and stuff your face with Kit Kats, Snickers, Reese’s pumpkins, and everything in between. Just try not to be your own id.

10 Weird Things I Learned On Vacation

  1. Ohio State fans are everywhere, and they keep strengthening my stereotypes.  The ones I saw were loud, made annoying parenting decisions, let kids swim during the adult swim hour, and were simply rude.
  2. Forest fires don’t scare enough people.  No fear.
  3. Don’t scream when you see a spider… At least not while the driver is merging into four lanes of traffic.  He will smite you.
  4. The art of secret farting is lost on some people.
  5. Don’t buy a salad in the U.P.  Don’t even try.
  6. The driver controls the radio.  Give up on those CDs you brought because it’s so not happening.
  7. Freighters are gigantic and terrifying.  So are people from Ohio.  (Not really, but it’s funny.)
  8. Rocks are still the most interesting part of my day.
  9. Bears are terrifying – even when they’re stuffed and in a glass box.
  10. Children are terrifying – especially if they enter your hot tub.  Game over.

We Get It, Valentine’s Day

Valentine’s Day needs to settle it down.  Seriously, why are we putting so much value in this little old day?  It shouldn’t make or break a relationship, it shouldn’t define us as people, and it shouldn’t depress us based on whatever relationship status we can use to describe ourselves on that day.  It just shouldn’t.  I’m actually not sad, lonely, or depressed (this year), but I still think Valentine’s Day is a little evil.  A person cannot escape hearts, red crap, shiny shit, lacy shit, feathered shit, champagne shit, chocolate shit, expensive shit, diamond shit, more heart-shit, etc.

Why not just do something nice for the people you love?  Even if it’s not sexy, you’ll feel good.  If you are in a relationship, you’re expected to have a fancy dinner, eat chocolate, drink champagne, and then put on crazy lingerie and have the hottest sex of ever…  That’s unreasonable.  You will be bloated.  You will not feel like having sex with the lights on.  Just willing myself to get into a corset is enough to ruin a nice meal.  “I’ll have the side salad without dressing as my entree…”  The expectations are unrealistic.  Shouldn’t this be reserved for anniversaries?  What happens if a chick is unavailable for the supreme pleasures of Valentine’s Day doin’ it?  Ladies get this thing every month, and it complicates things?  I’m just saying: what if?  That’s a lot of pressure for a reproductive system to handle.

I’m also infuriated that the V-Day tropes are that dudes spend cash while ladies put out.  Blerg.

I just don’t want to see hearts everywhere.  I don’t like them.  I don’t want everything to be pink.  I don’t want my boyfriend to feel like he has to send me roses or I will kill him.  THAT’S STUPID.  No one is entitled to roses.  I’m certainly not.

Plus, dudes can’t handle all this pressure.  It makes ladies crazy, and guys can’t live up to the crazy expectations pushed into female minds by rom-coms and Hallmark commercials.  I think I’ve even seen a cat food commercial about human love recently.  What? How? Why? COME ON.

Ladies, settle it down.  If a dude doesn’t buy you flowers, it’s okay.  Maybe just take a moment to appreciate the people you love instead of buying everything in CVS?

If you’re single, Valentine’s Day is just gigantic reminder that you are not in a relationship, and that you will likely not be needing any lacy accessories.  Why should singles be tormented further by our weirdly couple-obsessed culture?  Being single kind of rules… because there are no rules!  Okay, not really, but still.   This can be such an awkward day.  We should just act normal.

Why are heart shapes so anatomically incorrect?  It really bothers me.

Friggin’ Valentine’s Day…

Babysitters Are Important, Y’all.

Look, I get that having kids complicates your life, and that you will want to bring your kids with you to restaurants, stores, events, libraries, parties, and whatever else there is.  I get it, y’all.  However, as you continue to go through life with your child and/or children, remember that your crying baby will ruin everyone else’s dinner, shopping experience, party, study session, etc.  Your crying baby, your terrible two-year-old, your eight-year-old diva, your asshole-of-a-teenager are all part of the reason I cannot walk into a Target without getting a headache.

While I was out and about doing my Christmas shopping, I heard many a mother threaten their children with, “If you don’t do this, or stop that, Santa won’t bring you any gifts.”  First of all, that’s not sounding like great parenting.  Secondly, maybe you shouldn’t bring your four-year-old to Target two days before Christmas while it’s packed with other stressed out moms and dads.  That child is clearly going to melt down.  You are going to melt down.  Everyone else is going to be uncomfortable, and they will all leave with headaches.  Did you really need wrapping paper that badly?

Sometimes, you need to leave the kids at home.  Sometimes, you need a babysitter, a dedicated sister, a really amazing friend, or a grandparent to steal your child for a few precious moments.  You can also order things online.  Free shipping!  No lines!  No crying babies!

I know what you’re thinking.  You’re wondering why I don’t just stay home and avoid all the crying babies.  You’re thinking that I sound like an ass because I’m not considering that people can’t afford babysitters, and don’t always have support systems of people who can watch their kids.  There are a lot of single parents, and people who just didn’t have a choice of whether or not their kids would accompany them on their various trips.  I also understand that, but this website is devoted to rants, and this is a rant.  Obviously, I am not advocating for a kid-free world; I just want to go to Target without getting a headache because a three-year-old is mad about not getting candy.  I want to go out to lunch without fearing that someone’s child will throw knives around the room.  I want to read in a library without hearing anyone’s family drama.

Babysitters are amazing gifts from the Flying Spaghetti Monster and/or god.  Hire them.

Oh, Santa!

More terrible Christmas commercials. This time it’s Kay Jewelers and the woman who wants to bang-a-gong-get-it-on with “Santa.”

Really? This is as bad as that stupid “Santa Baby” song. No. No one wants to bang Santa, or anyone in a Santa suit. The Santa suit is a big red sign that says DON’T HAVE SEX WITH ME.

Look what Viagra has done. Yes, I blame you, boner pills. Otherwise there would be no way a 300 year old man who flies around in a sleigh with magical reindeer could get it up. Really.

I’m bringing my AK-47 to the Christmas Party

We are, after all, in a war, right? To save Christmas… Oh, we aren’t?

You’ll excuse my momentary rhetorical strategy of playing dumb, but the idea that there is some sort of ideological war against your Yule log is absurd.

Christmas is pervasive. It’s everywhere. I’ve seen complaints about this being referred to as the “Holiday Season” and otherwise intelligent folks getting all up-in-arms when someone wishes them “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas.” What gives, people?

I like to wish people a Merry Christmas. Sometimes I wish them a Happy Holiday(s). Sometimes I just say, “Enjoy the Holiday!” Once in a great while I may even pull out the “Happy Christmas.” (That’s only if you’re real lucky). In the past few years, I’ve become accustomed to wishing one half of my family a “Happy Hanukkah/Chanukah.” (Depending on their spelling preference, of course.) This doesn’t mean I’m some kind of Christmas-hating heathen. It just means my world view isn’t dominated by people who only celebrate the same holiday I do in the winter. Happy Holidays is just an easy way of covering all the bases. Instead of assuming someone is a Christian, you can still spread the joy of the season that comprises many holidays for people in all walks of life by saying “Happy Holidays.” You cover Christians, Jews, people who celebrate Kwanzaa, winter solstice-celebrating folks, atheists, and other groups. Instead of asking someone to identify themselves, which takes time and is, quite frankly, kind of rude, you can just wish them “Happy Holidays,” and hope that you made their day a little brighter.

If there’s one thing people need to recognize amidst all the celebrating by gorging ourselves and racking up a bunch of credit card debt on crap we probably don’t need but that makes us happy, is that Christmas has become a secularized holiday in addition to a religious one, and in both worlds the point is to bring joy to other people during a period of celebration (of togetherness, if you’re not religious, and of Jesus’s birth if you’re a Christian). So instead of outlining all the ways you’re different from (and apparently superior to) all the other folks who have holidays to celebrate during this time, maybe you should be more concerned with making sure everyone shares in the joy that marks this time of year by wishing people a happy holiday, whichever one they choose to celebrate.

Do you take your coffee with incest or sugar?

A few weeks ago, I was sitting around watching TV with my boyfriend when the following ad flittered across our screen.

After it finished, we sat looking at each other, both of us sporting that priceless, “what the hell did I just witness?” look on our faces. “Was that… weird… or was it just me?” I asked. Boyfriend agreed, the commercial was “creepy.” It passed without much further thought, until it came up while he was at work recently. His coworkers thought the same commercial was “cute.” He adamantly disagreed. So, this morning, when we saw it yet again I started to wonder if maybe it was just us. Apparently not, however. According to a couple websites, the spot is a remake of a Folger’s ad from the 1980s where the little girl is actually pretty much a baby, not a quasi-teenager.

Other than age between the two girls, there are a few other notable differences (e.g. the focus on the coffee and not on the awkward bedroom eyes between adult siblings). In the new version, it seems that the parents break up what is an awkwardly too-loving moment between the siblings when they enter the kitchen, and then the commercial just ends.

But seriously, Folgers. I don’t know any siblings who engage with each other so… earnestly. Sure, a couple of sisters will hug, brothers might shake hands or do the man-hug, but all the brother-sister combos I know are more likely to be giving each other a little bit of shit (“You’ve been on safari in Africa and you’re still pale? What gives?”). Apparently you got this in the beginning, but you still glossed it in Christmas-cheer-incest (“I must have the wrong house….!”). She even has to identify her relationship to our West African traveler by yelling “SISTER!” and pointing at herself awkwardly so we get the point that their hug and subsequent googly eyes are sooooo not supposed to be between lovers. No sexual tension here, folks, keep movin’. -Cringe- Here’s a thought, Folgers: find some actors who can really act like siblings and aren’t waiting to bang each other as soon as they’re off-set. It shows. And it makes me never, ever want to drink your coffee again.