[I like to think of myself as a pretty easy going gal, and try not to sweat the small stuff. But sometimes (ok, maybe slightly more often) the general cluelessness, carelessness and overall stupididty of some things and or/people really gets to me. I find that venting is the most efficient way to rid myself of the stress that idiots, wrong meal orders, lack of cell phone ettiquette and cheese flavored products (that don’t even contain any freaking cheese!) induce.

So, in an attempt to avoid an ulcer or an unfortuante road rage incident I vent to you, dear reader. Please feel free to join in and comment about anything–really, anything–that pissed. you. off. this week. Did your roommate leave dirty dishes all over your kitchen? Did your 8 am professor ‘forget’ to tell you class was cancelled? Did some girl on her cell with bad high-lights and tacky bumper stickers that say “angel” and other clever things cut you off today? Let it all hang out. I feel you.] Read More »

Three nights ago, as I’m spooning in bed with my ex-boyfriend/current fling (the lines are a little blurred), he, out of the blue, drops a line that no ex-girlfriend ever wants to hear spoken about herself: he called me crazy.

I was speechless. Everything had being going rather well all night: I looked super-hot, we were flirting like mad and we had just engaged in a no-fuss, delicious two-hour romp on his blow-up mattress, resulting in the big “O” for both parties.

And then he had to go and ruin our post-coital snuggle session with the dreaded “C” word.

Now, let me set the record straight. This is definitely not the first time a male in my life has called me crazy. Everyone from my dad and brother to my high school gym teacher has felt the need to express their opinion about my level of sanity.

I can’t deny that maybe, they were right to drop the C-bomb. Let’s just say that high school was rough for me. I was involved in a serious relationship, which led me to act like a serious fool. I yelled really loud, pushed really hard and generally caused extreme amounts of unnecessary stress for everyone involved in my life. But hey, I was sixteen, riding high off the fumes of sweet adolescent hormones, and I didn’t think – I just DID.

Of course, douchebag ex-boyfriend heard all the juicy details of my teenage drama during our first year of dating. I mean, if I had to endure all the pain and horror – it was only fair that I pass it onto him, right? (Note: I realize now this was a huge mistake and that some skeletons really are better kept in the closet – forever.) So, after I got upset about a girl attempting to kiss him in front of me after a little too much jungle juice, he decided it was time to break out the one insult he knew would cut straight to the heart. Read More »