Thanksgiving Blues

I won’t lie. I want this day to be over. You know what this election has done to my family? It has created a great divide between us. What would start as an argument about Trump then takes an ugly turn for the worse. I am talking about personal, dark shit that, if you have a sensitivity chip in your fucking head, you don’t bring it up with someone who is struggling with so much internal stuff. I cried, on and off, for forty eight hours, and I am an idiot for letting this piece of shit under my fucking skin.

Some part of me is grateful for the election. It has made me reevaluate my life. I spent the morning with my brother eating brunch at iHop. He seemed happier, more focus and I am grateful to the universe for whatever peace it bestowed in him. He mentioned about exploring his spirituality further. No. He will not become a priest. That scenario will give me a fucking heart attack. Whatever he decides, I will support him no matter what.

These panic attacks I’ve been having these past two weeks isn’t really about the election; it’s about changes happening to me next year. I still have doubts about some things. Am I making the right decision to return to school? Am I ever going to open myself to someone emotionally again? Is this rage ever going to leave me permanently?

*sigh* i’m going back to Netflix binge-watching and drinking again hehe.

Happy Thanksgiving, reader. Have fun and stay safe.

Feeling Blue? Take at Look at This

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  • Sad music to listen to (and be prepared to cry your fucking eyes out) is Clint Mansell’s “Together We Will Live Forever”
  • Writing a letter helps. There was this one person, who I missed and hated with equal intensity, that I wrote to 42 times (and I never sent the letters). It was cathartic and helped me understand my situation.
  • A best friend can help or hurt you in times of need; beware and proceed carefully when opening up to him or her.

Annoying Stereotypes: Fat People

I’m a big girl. I fucking love to eat. Shove a medium pizza from Papa John’s towards me and it will gone in ten minutes or less. Being a big girl I hear all sorts of bullshit from people. Some of the stupid shit I hear is: Why don’t you exercise more? You need to cut carbs, you would be so much prettier if you were skinnier, etc, bitches I have heard it all. Dear assholes, here are a few things you need to know about fat people.

  • Some of us actually do exercise. Why we continue to stay fat is none of your fucking business so quit asking. If you’re big, run 2 miles, and gobble a huge plate of nachos afterwards, bitch I aint gonna judge you.
  • A lot of us have an active sex life. People will still be attracted to big ass and titties until the end of time. Why the fuck would you slap a girl with no ass? Makes no sense to me. When I get butt slapped on Christmas, I feel loved 😀
  • I don’t understand why girls over size eight can’t be considered beautiful and carry confidence. Hello, have you meet Adele, America Ferrera, and Rebel Wilson? Their gorgeous, funny, and more successful than all the assholes lurking on the net.

I’ve also changed my perception on vanity since turning 30. For awhile, I never had a problem with being a big girl until an asshole pointed something obvious about my weight. I do think I’m attractive on most days. Lately, I’ve been working out because of some deep, painful, personal issues. It’s no longer a number games for me. It’s whether I walk out of the gym feeling elated and accomplished.

If you’re a big person and are thinking about doing yoga. Follow Dana Falsetti on her webpage and instagram. She really can help you overcome the hesitation with starting a yoga regimen especially if you’re a big person.

The Hard Part about Recovery

I think we have all been there, right? When we thought we took ten steps forward but then an incident happens and we are back to square one. It’s hard to explain this to people who have never experienced some sort of addiction or has experienced a severe mental health crisis. It is so fucking hard to rewire your brain when you spent years being sick. It’s even harder to live with people who don’t fucking get that.

Today I just feel lost; however, what I won’t do is get lost in my feelings tonight. I am tired of being tired. So I am going to step out of my house and find something relaxing to do.

 

Skip South Beach

I mean it when I say skip South Beach. I’ve lived in Florida almost my entire adult life and I can vouch that most people that live here tend to skip the South Beach night life. The parking is a nightmare even during the day.

A good place to stay if your in South Florida is Delray Beach.  A wonderful restaurant to eat in is DADA. It was named after Literary and Artistic movement that took place from 1916-1923. Food is fantastic and the atmosphere is pretty relaxed even on busy nights. Eat the brie and crab cake appetizers. It will change your life.

 

Renie: Self-Deprecating Queen

The one thing that irks me is when someone who is physically fit tells me he or she is fat. Why the fuck are you telling me your fat when I’m fat? I have a self-deprecating sense of humor, so when my best friend pointed that she had a double chin on Snapchat, I couldn’t help but point to her what fat is. The conversation went like this:

  • BFF: I have double chin
  • Me: You do not have a double chin.
  • Me: You want to see fat?
  • Me: Fuck it. Never mind. I don’t want to traumatize you.
  • BFF: Traumatize me! Traumatize me! (lmao)

Do you know what happens when your fat, reader? It occupies your ENTIRE BODY. Fat is not prejudice, seriously, there are certain shoes I can’t fucking wear. I decided to keep it PG on Snapchat because the last thing I needed were things to get weird between us. Moments later I sent her this Snapchat.

  • Me on video: You see this? This is holiday ass.(pointing at my butt) This is the ass I give you because I feel bad for not giving you head the other night
  • BFF: LMAO how many hills you climb girl to get that booty?
  • Me: Omg….

One of the best things about my friendship with her is that she knows the difference between when I’m putting myself down or when I’m just self-deprecating. There are a few times people tell me, “Irene, why are you putting yourself down?” and my reply is, “but I’m not”. Sometimes I wonder if I have taken it too far or I’m just not that person’s cup of tea. Remember that reader. It doesn’t matter how nice or funny you are, not everyone will vibe with you and that’s okay.

Time to go. It’s a Sunday, 5:22 Am. I hear the beach calling me haha.

 

Behold internet. I give ZERO fucks.

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There are no words to describe how wonderful it felt knowing I was on the other side of the fucking world. If there was one thing I do regret when I turned 30, it was that I did not travel enough. I love airports, meeting new people, eating strange foods, doing something stupid and dangerous, taking a shit load of pictures until my camera battery died; so when I say I am doing more of this shit in my thirties I mean it.

I am traveling again next year. What I won’t do is posting so much pictures on social media. Looking back I realized I was on my phone all the fucking time. Have you tried watching porn on 2G network at two in the morning? I was losing my mind. I won’t make that mistake again. (I meant, next time, I will download the porn to my phone or tablet hehe).

Also, one of my stops will be in Dubai. However, it will be a stop over so I doubt I’ll be able to leave the airport and take good pictures.

January needs to be here NOW.

 

Hello. It’s Me. No. I’m not Adele

Hello Lurker! I’m Renie (at least to the people that love me haha). So why start a blog? For one, it’s my defense mechanism to cope with whatever bullshit moment I’m going through at the moment. I have to warn you; I have a dark sense of humor. I’ll try to keep it PG-13 but then again who the fuck is reading this?

So last week I had dinner with a good friend of mine from college. Sometimes I look at her and think why does she like me so much? I have a filthy mind. I have yet to expose her to just how dark my soul can get. She is so compassionate and innocent that I can not bring it to myself to corrupt her soul. Motherfucker. It has happened. I have matured. So yea. She was the reason I started this blog.

I suck, epically, at a million things, but writing is not one of them. I do not claim to be gifted but I entertain people with my writing, so I do have some talent. Right? I don’t expect to make money off of my writing but if it brings a smile (and the occasional orgasm) to someone, then my writing was not a waste of my time.

So have a nice day lurker.