Growing Up Sucks...and How to Make Your Very Own Street Walker Barbie!

You know what I hate?

That I had to grow up.

Not that I necessarily grew “up”…because I am glad that my height advanced beyond the 2 foot I was when I initially popped out. I am just sad that I had to stop being a kid. I was looking at the Wish Book today at toys with my mom…I told her that I missed playing with Barbie Dolls. In fact, I think I would still play with them if it were socially accepted.

I loved those things! I loved the tiny little shoes for her freakish tippy toe feet, the fabulous street walker clothing, the lack of genitalia, Ken’s plastic hair, and all the kick ass home furnishings and appliances. I absolutely loved that girl!!! Me and my sister would play with them and I would always have to be Skipper. She had the smaller boobs. I wasn’t worth of Barbie and her plastic double D’s. Me and my sister also loved to, um, style Barbie’s hair. In a nutshell, we liked to give Barbie a bowl-cut. If you aren’t familiar with the fabulous hair style of the late 80’s and the early 90’s, let me lay it down for you. This hair style consisted of a short bob of sorts that made it appear like you had a bowl lying on your head while the stylist (your mother in your bathroom) cut the hair. So here comes Barbie, looking fab with her bowl-cut hair, at home painted nails (we also liked to give her manicures with our thick and sticky old Wet-n-Wild nail polish), hooker looking tube dress made out of one of my old ruffled socks (seriously, children’s socks made the best tube dresses), crazy hot pink tennis shoes that are still heeled for some reason, one leg that won’t actually straighten out anymore, and I wonder to myself…when will I have kids so I can play with these bitches again!?!?!

My luck, my kid wouldn’t let me play because I kept messing up her Barbie’s.

On a funny note, after reading all of this…I can now see in every way…how Barbie helped me pick my profession. Barbie Bowl-Cuts, Tube Sock Hooker Dresses, and the all pink dream house kitchen totally equals up to Home Ec Teacher.

Apple Pie and Shaved Va-jay-jay's

So, ya'll know me. I am not so big on the "let's review etsians" deal. I am more about the funny. That is just how I roll. But, I need to give a shout out to someone who not only makes me laugh, but makes my mouth water. She also used to beat me up when I was a kid. Yeah, that's right. My sis. Creativity runs in our southern blood! She runs the etsy shop The Curious Spork. How interesting is that?

This shop is full of fun polymer clay items that "rock my socks". She is just opening so she is putting new fun things in everyday.

Here are a few of my favorites...

Who doesn't love apple pie?

Let's not forget about breakfast, the most important meal of the day! (it's more than diet coke and Marlboro Lights girls!)

And my personal favorite...

Pierced, tattooed, and shaven....

Weiners and Who-Has!

So, if you aren't too busy wearing my pieces (come on, you got more than one arm or ear!)...you should stop on by her shop. She loves custom orders and wants to make something fun, tasty, or just plain dirty for you!

http://www.thecuriousspork.etsy.com/

Oh, and if you are totally sweating for fun things going on in my world...just wait! I have had lots goin on! And my birthday is coming up this weekend! Yeah, that's right. My mom was in labor on Labor day!

Customer Dis-Service and Why I Hate To Go Out In Public

Let me just preface this by saying…

When you go out in public it may be a divine experience. The cashiers may be the friendliest, nicest, most professional people you have ever met. Cars may go the right way down the isles in the parking lot. Heck, customers may even smile at you and steer clear of you with their cart, while their children, with snot free upper lips greet you with warm wishes.

Let me go on record as to saying, none of these things ever happen for me.

I don’t know what it is about me. Friends tell me that I have the “bitch look”. If I am not super smiley and laughing about myself, I must be in a bad mood. Again, you know how chubby people should always be jolly! None of this is true though. Sometimes, when I am spending massive amounts of money on things that I will eat (two things you don’t mess with, my money or my food) I need to focus all my attention on the task at hand. Just because I am over 6 foot tall doesn’t mean I automatically work at the store and will help you get down the 5 gallon can of Wesson Oil on the top shelf (I get asked that all the time! Standing there in normal clothes, shopping cart in tow. “Do you work here? Can you get those Depends on the tops shelf for me?”). Maybe because I am in “the zone” when I shop makes me the target for the craziness. Let me share with you some true to life experiences.

**Grocery store with wild safari animal in title, close to house**
Walking down the isle, searching for just the right scent of laundry detergent, a mother and her child walk past me in one of those huge race car carts. The child, full on snot dripplets leaking out his nose, some dried on his lip, looks at me and goes “Ew, your Ugly!” His mother just looked at me and laughed and gave me the “isn’t he adorable” look. If I were a meaner person I might have told the child that he wasn’t much too look at himself and he should save his judgment until he was old enough to groom himself and blow his own nose without mommy saying “Now blow! Just a little harder, let’s get all those boogies out!”

**At same grocery store, days later**
Just as I am about to check out, after I check my buggy to make sure I have the essentials (Bread, check. Soda, check. Ice cream, check. Liver mush, double check…don’t judge me) I see that I have lucked up. There is a line with no waiting. As I wheel up to the counter, I notice that the cashier is standing, leaned up against the register, talking to the teenager in the next lane, with his back to me. I begin to put my delightful food choices on the belt and see that he still has not turned around to acknowledge me or began to check me out. I then start to put my food down a little more loudly…but without being too rough with it. It is way too fragile!!! After all the contents of my cart are on the belt, said teenager has still not stopped his conversation and asked me for my MVP card! Damn him! He must be destroyed! Doesn’t he know that the longer he waits, the longer it will take me to get home and sample these new, ever so excitingly packaged, Pringles? So I get my card out, put it towards him and say, “Ah hem”. He then looks over his shoulder at me, rolls his eyes, looks back at the other teen and says “hold on just a sec”, then finally takes my card and begins to check me out. I mean I am SO sorry I made you do your job!

The absolute best EVER

**Ghetto-Mart (I call this Wal-Mart that because I feel as if I might be shanked every time I go there)
Again, I check to make sure I have everything on my list (was already stocked up on liver mush, needed some oatmeal though) and wheeled the buggy up into a line. You always have to wait like forever to get checked out at this Wal-Mart because people are beating their kids in line and running out the door with 15 pregnancy tests that they didn’t pay for and everything else. So when I put my items on the belt for “Desiree” I noticed that she was in a full on, hands waiving in the air, finger snapping, neck popping, conversation with the cashier behind her. Let me just preface this conversation by saying, I am white, I go to an HBCU (historically black college or university) and I could care less about race. Also, I was wearing my NC A&T SU tee-shirt, complete with “Aggie Pride” logo.

Finger Snapper 1 (Desiree) – I know girl! I had to take my weave out!
Finger Snapper 2 – Oh no you didn’t! Why!?!? Girl I like those braids! (Let me remind you that all of this is being said “quite” loudly)
FS1 – Cause! He just kept wantin to pull on it all the time!
FS2 – No he didn’t! Girl those braids were mad fresh!
FS1 – I mean I like when he pulls my hair when we are gettin down, but dayum, that is just too expensive! I was like, you must be crazy. Pullin on this weave like that!
FS2 – Ooooh! I know! When he pulls your hair, that’s hittin it right!
FS1 – I might have to get it again, I ain’t feelin it without it!

It went on from there. But I was so shocked about the topic of conversation while being checked out; I have tried to repress it.

So in closing...as my cashier, or fellow shopper, just smile at me. I will do the same back. That is, as long as you don’t force me to listen to what gets you off, sexually.

Spandex and Boob Padding, A Curvy Womans Strife

What happened to the good old days? No, I’m not talking about back when gas was 80 cent a gallon, or when everyone practiced free love, or even back before they did away with Crystal Pepsi.

I am talking about back when curves were fabulous and women were voluptuous.

I have always said that I was born in the wrong era. I stand 6 foot 2 inches tall, with full on curves. Not so much in the front, but I have booty for days…and the middle just does what it can to even the two out. In the old days, artists used to paint women of my shape. Curves were the ultimate sign of beauty. Used to I would joke and say that I was built more like a black girl, but lately when I watch the 50 cent videos, even the black girls are tiny!

So as curvy women, we try to find ways to transform into what society currently deems as sexy. When we go out in our fancy dress, we can’t possibly walk out the door without our butt and tummy shaping panties. They call them panties, but they are more like full on 80’s biker shorts. So, after we put on our spanky pants, we then have to worry about our chest area. We need those suckers up and perky! So we put on our Wonder Bra, or if we are really unlucky, our fancy dress requires a strapless bra. We then have to change gears and put on our gel filled strapless torture device that guarantees to pump us up one full size…all the while making it quite impossible to expand our ribs while we breathe. This is made all the more horrid because of the tight little shorts digging into our stomach and beginning to roll. Some women might opt for the even more horrific corset. This pretty much guarantees that we will not sit, laugh, or breathe for the entire evening. After all of these things are on, hoping that we don’t have to put on panty hose, we have to wiggle your way into the fancy dress, trying not to mess up our perfectly styled hair (just because we are curvy women doesn’t mean our hair isn’t flipping fabulous) or our just right makeup. Then comes the fun part. We have to manage to get into those too high sexy heels that make us taller, longer, and take attention away from our rear. The shoes in question do cut off circulation and make us fall when we walk, but damn, aren’t they cute? So as we make our way down the stairs(trying our best to not fall, not let the shorts roll, keep our bra in the upright position, and smile, because you know big people are supposed to be jolly) to our impatient man who has been calling our name for about 30 minutes, we ask how we look.

“Fine.”

Fine?!?!? Are you freaking kidding me!?!? It took us almost 2 hours to squeeze and shape and mold ourselves into this outfit! The whole way to the party we refuse to talk to him, partly because we are mad at his disregard for the obvious knockout that we transformed into and partly because we are unable to breathe enough to form words in the sitting position with all of our restrictive undergarments on.

When we get to the party, we feel totally sexy and mad fresh. But then we start to see all the little skinny bitches that have on these flowy little dress that we are positive have no spanky pants underneath. We immediately hate these women and begin to plot their demise, all the while smiling. Don’t want to let the skinny bitches think that they are bothering us. We drink, converse, and have a relatively good time.

When we get home, we look in the mirror. We have suddenly turned from the sex goddess we were when we left the house into a puffy, red faced troll. We begin to wonder how long we have looked like this. As we peel off all the layers of restriction with our sweatpants and t shirt in plain sight, our spirits lift as we remember there is some new ice cream in the fridge. Just as the ice cream does it job and cheers us right up, we remember…

We stay warmer in the winter time and those skinny bitches freeze.

…and if we are lucky our man will remember how hot we were tonight…

Cleavage, Humiliation, and Hairspray...I Smell a Wedding!

I HATE that old adage “always a bridesmaid, never a bride”. I hate it mainly because it applies to me. This weekend I will be a bridesmaid for the third time. I won’t count the numerous weddings in which I was involved in other ways…flower girl, registrar, server, hander-outer-of something.
Weddings are really hard when you are single. Well for me they were. I know there are some people out there who use that as an excuse to try to bang a bridesmaid or have their way with a groomsman. I saw the movie! I know how it works! I, being the funny one, not the slutty one, usually just found them depressing cause everyone is in love and finds it a great excuse to give and receive many open mouthed, full on tongue, kisses, while you are standing there talking to them about the weather. I would eat a lot of cake and die a little inside, while all the while smiling really big and posing for all the pictures. Then of course I’d go home and tell my dogs all about it while saying things like “I just can’t believe it, I was the hottest one there” or “Being married is lame-o anyway”. The dog was probably thinking “Yeah right mom, I’ll be a bastard forever”.
Well, now I am not single, but I might as well be, because in the world of weddings, I am not married, or engaged yet. I am worthless! What is worse is that my man has to work and will not be attending all the wedding festivities with me this weekend. He is totally bummed about it; let me tell you (YEAH RIGHT!). So I have to see all the love goings-on while not having a date. Also, I know practically no one. So it should be an exciting weekend out for me.
I tried my dress on yesterday while talking to the bride-to-be on the phone. I am pretty sure that someone will have to use a clothes hanger to zip this dress up. On a good note though, as tight as the dress is, it gives me great cleavage; which is nice because it is a sweetheart top and all I see when I look in the mirror is my football player shoulders. It looks as if I might walk down the isle and proceed to tackle the preacher. That could make an interesting wedding though! Seeing as how this is a ritzy wedding, they might not like that. Oh, and I can’t forget that the bride has requested that I wear flats so I don’t tower over everyone. I’m going to look like a big kid! (A big kid with great cleavage, who could possibly tackle you).
You can believe that with all this wedding talk, I am sweating my Mr. Big pretty bad. We are kind of still living that poor college kid buys a house life, so we are saving for the whole thing. I know that, but you get me around a wedding and I want to throw plates and shoes at him and scream about how I am always a bridesmaid, NEVER A BRIDE! I think he is quite looking forward to this being over. But then I have like half a dozen friends that are pregnant, so that is a whole new fight!
So, as I walk down the isle, and possibly take out a member of the clergy, remember…choose your bridesmaid dresses wisely, cause one day, there may be a dress with a big butt bow and puffy sleeves planned for you, in revenge.

Sweat Your Ass Off ♥

So, I know I am not the only one to notice that it is like 200 degrees outside here lately. I talk myself out of actually going places because I know that the heat will make me sweaty.

I sweat my ass off.

Ever heard the expression? If you are ever around foul mouth complainers (like myself) then I am sure you have.

How great would it be if it were actually true? Like you get out of your car after a long drive when the air conditioning is taking it's own sweet time to cool things off...and you look down. There it is! A little pile of ass that you sweated off. A little pile of fleshing looking material...dimples included. Woo hoo, look at me. A one hour hot car trip and I am a half size smaller! I, for one, would be suffering the heat a lot more often. I would come to work and be like "don't mind that, it's just some of my ass."

But alas...that is not the case!

What happens is you just sweat, even you ass.

It has happened to all of us. Your hanging out in the heat and everything, behind knees, forehead, cleavage, and the ass...all start to sweat. What is worse, when the sweat becomes noticeable to others. It is OK to be a sloppy mess for only you to know about...but when your sweaty pits or what have you begin to show signs on your clothes, you have a problem.

I went to an outdoor graduation Friday. One such woman was located directly in front of me. She was wearing too tight khaki shorts and odd clunky heels. As she bent over, I saw it. I sweat line going down the entire length of her butt seam. Come to think of it, as much sweat as it was, it was quite possible she WAS sweating her actual ass off.

So I leave you with this. Be cool and try to stay dry on these hot summer days. But, if that is not an option. Be like me, and wear a nice knit sundress out, so all the crack sweat will never be noticeable. And if you see me out, in said dress, just assume that I am losing that ass, as we speak.

I'll Cut you! Well...Maybe Not.

WHOOO! I know, I have been gone a while. I was finishing up this semester and plotting the death of a few teachers, bosses, and political figures. Not really…well maybe there was a bit of talk about cutting someone. One of my crazy ass old teachers gave me a C. A totally NON-deserved C. So yeah, I’ll cut her. AND I have been accepted into not one, but TWO honor societies. One that is national, one that is for the school…which is a huge deal. Not many people get in. Oh, and for this, the school is offering me NO scholarships. And the fact that I am a minority at my school, no scholarships. But they do want me to take the $11,000 in loans they have offered, so I can be in debt for the rest of my life. So, I have to go cut someone at the financial aid office this afternoon.
I am in the market for a new job, mainly because I hate mine these days. You would think that going to work with 70 dogs everyday would be fun…but really…not so much. Well, it is mainly my boss and the waking up at the butt ass crack of dawn. I just need a change. I don’t think I can do this for the next year until I finish college. Blah.
Oh, I found a new place to walk the pups in the lovely Greensboro. Actually is out where Mr. Biggs’ dad works (Senior Biggs). Bur Mil Park. Basically you just walk around Lake Brandt. I love it! We are going to have to start going like every day. The weight has got to go! I have been eating so many veggies lately! I am so proud!
Lets see, other than that…I have been super busy making jewelry. I hit 51 sales this morning. That is super exciting for me! I have also started selling earrings and rings. You should totally check out my new 80s inspired items. For Sure!
I hope everyone have a fabulous day!

Domestic Diva and Mr Biggs Loves Hooters

So all weekend long I was so domestic. Saturday after I got off work I came home and cleaned for like 9 hours straight. I figured it was time because there were dog hair tumbleweeds floating across the floor. I am tallking my house is CLEAN! I told Mr Biggs that the living room was so empty after I put everything where it belonged that I could hear my voice echo!
So yesterday i woke up and went to the evil grocery store. I say that because it is the closest one to my house and all the teenagers who work there are mean and have total attitude because I am bothering them by making them do their job of checking me out and baggin my groceries. Mr Biggs was sp excited to have groceries in the house that he almost helped me put them up! Instead he decided to heat up the leftover hooters wings and sat on his butt and watched tv. Gotta love him.
Then, the most super exciting thing...
I spent yesterday sewing! I made the cutest skirt! I have to sew some snaps on it this evening after I get out of class, but other than that, it is fabulous! I will have to post pics of it tonight!
Well I am off to my last day of the intership from hell.