Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Well damn

Playlist Side A: Joon Jun d(0_o)b

Side A: Joon Jun d(0_o)b

1.Foo Fighters - Next Year
2.Anthony Green - Baby Girl
3.Textures - Awake
4.Mudvayne - A Cinderella Story
5.Jay - Z - Venus vs. Mars
6.Drake - Best I've Ever Had
7.50 Cent - Do You Think About Me
8.Dredg - Zebraskin
9.Deftones - Drive (The Cars)
10.A Perfect Circle - Blue
11.Charles Hamilton - Sat(T)Elite
12.Sevendust - Crucified
13.Limp Bizkit - Nobody Like You
14.Muse - I Belong To You (New Moon Remix)
15.Thom Yorke - Hearing Damage
16.Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Done All Wrong
17.Trey Songz - Cheated
18.Saosin - Why Cant You See?
19.Circa Survive - The Great Golden Baby
20.Staind - Mudshovel
21.Korn - Alone I Break
22.Mario - Ooh Baby
23.Kanye West - Supernova
24.Red Cafe - I Just Wanna Be
25.Yung Berg - All Nite Long
26.Timbaland - Say Something
27.Them Crooked Vultures - No One Loves Me & Neither Do I
28.Audioslave - Be Yourself
29.Staind - Believe
30.Nirvana - Heart Shaped Box
31.The Fall Of Troy - Single
32.Misery Signals - Labyrinthian
33.Mase - Cheat On You
34.The Streets - Dry Your Eyes
35.Plies - Becky
36.Slipknot - Snuff
37.Armor For Sleep - Slip Like Space
38.Green Day - 21 Guns
39.Breaking Benjamin - Without You
40.Marcy Playground - I Smell Sex And Candy

Friday, December 25, 2009

Jessica Leigh Griffith's tribute to nice girls

 Jessica Leigh Griffith's tribute to nice girls...

so much truth I don't even know where to begin!

This is my tribute to the nice girls. To the nice girls who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more, who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities and their actions because it must be they that are doing something wrong. This is for the girls who don’t give it up on the first date, who don’t want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story they’ve heard a thousand times. This is for the girls who understand that they aren’t perfect and that the guys they’re interested in aren’t either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slightest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe… maybe this time he’ll have understood. This is an homage to the girls who laugh loud and often, who are comfortable in skirts and sweats and combat boots, who care more than they should for guys who don’t deserve their attention. This is for those girls who have been in the trenches, who have watched other girls time and time again fake up and make up and fuck up the guys in their lives without saying a word. This is for the girls who have been there from the beginning and have heard the trite words of advice, from “there are plenty of fish in the sea,” to “time heals all wounds.” This is to honor those girls who know that guys are just as scared as they are, who know that they deserve better, who are seeking to find it.
This is for the girls who have never been in love, but know that it’s an experience that they don’t want to miss out on. For the girls who have sought a night with friends and been greeted by a night of catcalling, rude comments and explicit invitations that they’d rather not have experienced. This is for the girls who have spent their weekends sitting on the sidelines of a beer pong tournament or a case race, or playing Florence Nightingale for a vomiting guy friend or a comatose crush, who have received a drunk phone call just before dawn from someone who doesn’t care enough to invite them over but is still willing to pass out in their bed. This is for the girls who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their male friend hint after hint after hint only to watch him chase after the first blonde girl in a skirt. This is for the girls who have been told that they’re too good or too smart or too pretty, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend.
This one’s for the girls who you can take home to mom, but won’t because it’s easier to sleep with a whore than foster a relationship; this is for the girls who have been led on by words and kisses and touches, all of which were either only true for the moment, or never real to begin with. This is for the girls who have allowed a guy into their head and heart and bed, only to discover that he’s just not ready, he’s just not over her, he’s just not looking to be tied down; this is for the girls who believe the excuses because it’s easier to believe that it’s not that they don’t want you, it’s that they don’t want anyone. This is for the girls who have had their hearts broken and their hopes dashed by someone too cavalier to have cared in the first place; this is for the nights spent dissecting every word and syllable and inflection in his speech, for the nights when you’ve returned home alone, for the nights when you’ve seen from across the room him leaning a little too close, or standing a little too near, or talking a little too softly for the girl he’s with to be a random hookup. This is for the girls who have endured party after party in his presence, finally having realized that it wasn’t that he didn’t want a relationship: it was that he didn’t want you. I honor you for the night his dog died or his grandmother died or his little brother crashed his car and you held him, thinking that if you only comforted him just right, or said the right words, or rubbed his back in the right way then perhaps he’d realize what it was that he already had. This is for the night you realized that it would never happen, and the sunrise you saw the next morning after failing to sleep.
This is for the “I really like you, so let’s still be friends” comment after you read more into a situation than he ever intended; this is for never realizing that when you choose friends, you seldom choose those which make you cry yourself to sleep. This is for the hugs you’ve received from your female friends, for the nights they’ve reassured you that you are beautiful and intelligent and amazing and loyal and truly worthy of a great guy; this is for the despair you all felt as you sat in the aftermath of your tears, knowing that that night the only companionship you’d have was with a pillow and your teddy bear. This is for the girls who have been used and abused, who have endured what he was giving because at least he was giving something; this is for the stupidity of the nights we’ve believed that something was better than nothing, though his something was nothing we’d have ever wanted. This is for the girls who have been satisified with too little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who don’t think that they deserve more, because they’ve been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys.
This is what I don’t understand. Men sit and question and whine that girls are only attracted to the mean guys, the guys who berate them and belittle them and don’t appreciate them and don’t want them; who use them for sex and think of little else than where their next conquest will be made. Men complain that they never meet nice girls, girls who are genuinely interested and compelling, who are intelligent and sweet and smart and beautiful; men despair that no good women want to share in their lives, that girls play mindgames, that girls love to keep them hanging. Yet, men, I ask you: were you to meet one of these genuinely interested, thrillingly compelling, interesting and intelligent and sweet and beautiful and smart girls, were you to give her your number and wait for her to call… and if you were to receive a call from her the next day and she, in her truthful, loyal, intelligent and straightforward nice girl fashion, were to tell you that she finds you intriguing and attractive and interesting and worth her time and perhaps material from which she could fashion a boyfriend, would you or would you not immediately call your friends to tell them of the “stalker chick” you’d met the night prior, who called you and wore her heart on her sleeve and told the truth? And would you, or would you not, refuse to make plans with her, speak with her, see her again, and once again return to the bar or club or party scene and search once more for this “nice girl” who you just cannot seem to find? Because therein lies the truth, guys: we nice girls are everywhere. But you’re not looking for a nice girl. You’re not looking for someone genuinely interested in your intermural basketball game, or your anatomy midterm grade, or that argument you keep having with your father; you’re looking for a quick fix, a night when you can pretend to have a connection with another human being which is just as disposable as the condom you were using during it.
So don’t say you’re on the lookout for nice girls, guys, when you pass us up on every step you take. Sometimes we go undercover; sometimes we go in disguise: sometimes when that girl in the low cut shirt or the too tight miniskirt won’t answer your catcalls, sometimes you’re looking at a nice girl in whore’s clothing – - we might say we like the attention, we might blush and giggle and turn back to our friends, but we’re all thinking the same thing: “This isn’t me. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be wearing a teeshirt and flannel shorts, I’ll have slept alone and I’ll be making my hungover best friend breakfast. See through the disguise. See me.” You never do. Why? Because you only see the exterior, you only see the slutty girl who welcomes those advances. You don’t want the nice girl.. so don’t say you’re looking for a relationship: relationships take time and energy and intent, three things we’re willing to extend – - but in return, we’re looking for compassion and loyalty and trust, three things you never seem willing to express. Maybe nice guys finish last, but in the race they’re running they’re chasing after the whores and the sluts and the easy-targets… the nice girls are waiting at the finish line with water and towels and a congratulatory hug (and yes, if she’s a nice girl and she likes you, the sweatiness probably won’t matter), hoping against hope that maybe you’ll realize that they’re the ones that you want at the end of that silly race.
So maybe it won’t last forever. Maybe some of those guys in that race will turn in their running shoes and make their way to the concession stand where we’re waiting; however, until that happens, we still have each other, that silly race to watch, and all the chocolate we can eat (because what’s a concession stand at a race without some chocolate?)

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

WTF!!! part 2- Behind every bitch there was once a nice girl who got screwed over

I don't even know where to begin this one...
To add insult to injury, the dude (Jacob wannabe) called me last night....
and I feel like an idiot for answering even though I knew better... even though I was with the girls and after the whole Secret Santa fiasco I was still pretty pissed, but I mean.... shiit... I still answered the phone and I feel like an idiot for it.

This is going to be a completely honest post.

Jacob Wannabe called from his home phone.
I answered. We started talking. He basically tells me how much he likes talking to me because I listen and don't judge... uhm... ok... (was he trying to convince himself or something?)
anyhow... he keeps rambling and rambling and eventually gets to the point.
He's calling to let me know he's very likely to go back to being "officially" back together with PB.... uhm... so... wow...
and this dude has the NERVE!! to tell me how even though alot of BS has passed, he still thinks I'm one of his closest friends, and keeps telling me how he never meant to let this happen and how I'm an amazing person....
can someone please explain to me how you diss someone while complimenting them? Cuz that's exactly what happened.
Long story short, this was the punchline:
-I'm sorry this happened
-I really like you
-You're an amazing person
-You're one of my closest friends
-I have alot of growing up to do
-I want to remain close friends because in the future I will most likely want a relationship with you
-I'm really childish and immature
-I really hope we can still be close because I can really talk to you openly
-I was scared shitless of this conversation, and I finally got the balls to tell you
-I want to think that you'll be willing to give me a chance again somewhere down the line
-PB will most likely officially be my date for the NYE party.

At this point, I'll admit that I was above everything offended... and pissed off...
I got drunk.
REALLY drunk.
So much so that I was happy and pissed at the same time, while lying on the floor in Betty's room and  looking at the glow in the dark stars on her roof and thinking I was outside and debating on my plan of action if it started to rain.
so yeeeahh... uhm... I don't know what else to say to that...
Ooh and I forgot to mention, he asked me about the Secret Santa. and asked who I got... and also asked if it was him.
fuck meee.
I went on a rant about how ridiculous that would be and why on earth if this was a random draw with 18 people in it (including myself) I would get him.... lol. so yeah.. about that...

At this point, I HAVE to wear a friggin red dress... and now I need to come up with a date for the NYE party... and shit... Babes is out of town until the 12th of January... and who the hell would I beg to pretend to date me for the sake of appearances on NYE??? Maybe on any other day... but damn, NYE?!

so yeah...
talk about ending the year (and hopefully the whole story) with a bang... shiiit...

I have the headache from hell and I need to go get ready for work now.
Needless to say, I'm not the nicest one from the bunch today...
or for the rest of the year for that matter....
Cuz behind every heartless bitch, lies a nice girl that got screwed over by a jerk.

Catch y'all laters guys.


Monday, December 21, 2009


This is my official rant. Consider yourself forewarned, so deal with it.
**PS... pardon the language.


My mom's best friend, a close family friend, is hosting a Secret Santa...
17 people, of the youngsters...
We're doing it by numbers.
I pick number 13.
 WHY THE FUCK!!!! have I gotten MF"N!! JACOB WANNABE!!!!

I mean, this totally a luck of the draw, random and shit...


I've managed to keep everything at bay and kept my distance from the guy and everything... and I get THIS?!

Not to mention the fact that I still have to deal with New Years eve...
Oh wait right, I havent posted THAT story yet.

SO remember PWB?
Yeahh... uhm...
My grandparents are in town.
So it's pretty much a given that I have to show up with the rest of the fam to the NYE party...
When this came to light, about a month ago, I threatened Jacob Wannabe that I was going and I didn't even want to remotely consider the whole birthday fiasco reoccurring again.
A few weeks later... he tells me PWB IS coming to the family NYE party.
This is gonna get awkward.
so, at this point we're both forewarned and we're on somewhat amicable terms, for the sake of sanity.
My friends, most of them fashion design students, come up with an elaborate scheme in which I wear a red dress to the NYE party and look like a million bucks and basically show off that I'm in control of da binniz and give off a bad ass bitch attitude... but the problem is... I don't usually wear red, and truth be told, I'm not a badass bitch, I'm a nice person....
so I tell my mom the happenings... you know, gotta keep her somewhat informed of what's going on... and she concurrs with my friends and also insists that I wear a smokin red dress... so I guess red it's gonna have to be! well damn...

and NOW THIS?!!?!

this is some BS.

Now, I mean, seriously... what are the effin odds.. I was like one of the first few people to pick my secret Santa recipient... I mean c'mon... this is just fucked up on a bunch of levels...
but hey.. at least I know what he likes, right???

too pissed to keep blogging..
ttyl laters


Sunday, December 13, 2009

Holiday Season goodbyes

So it's officially the "HOLIDAY Season" and we're in on Winter break and everyone is happy that the quarter is finally over and yadda yadda yadda.

I'll admit that I've been working really hard and consistently on catching up on my missing hours of sleep, and I've gotten presents for almost everyone in my budget-conscious list and so-far, everything has turned out pretty good.

But as all good things come, they must also leave. My friends, mostly from out of town, have all been going back home :(

Oddly enough, they're managing to meet up in NYC and Atlantic City, and even if I could afford to I can't go... oh well.

Anyhow, the real reason behind me posting this is because I didn't realize that I would miss my friends this much... OOzi, Babes, KK, 'nae, Spitz, Gayman, Corleone, E, Dex, J... all of em!
Sounds weird that I'd miss em that much since I'm usually @ work and it's only gonna be like 3 weeks anyway, right? I know, I know... I'm a softie at heart.

So, after an endless night of packing and cleaning, and then some down time to chill, we were off to say our good byes at the airport.

Everything was going well until, well I had to say goodbye to Babes, ma bestie.
Some unexpected deja vu came through and here we were again, saying good bye as he goes off to Philly and I go back to real life... For a minute I felt kinda like November 07 when he same scenario happened the first time, a lifetime ago.
Old habits die hard I guess?

Idk, I guess we just know who really counts, even when we purposely forget to acknowledge it.

I'm off to work again peoples

catch y'all laters!!