tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-110394322011-04-22T01:33:24.697-04:00Disgruntled? Check. Bitter? Check. Black female? Check. Short? Double check. Hopefully you'll find this amusing.BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.comBlogger2101100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1155766924179172332006-08-16T18:12:00.000-04:002006-12-23T12:08:35.516-05:00

I've been having a rought time lately. One of my best friends and I are no longer friends. Sure, friends come and they go, but this was one of the most terrible endings that I've ever had.And I'm still not over it. I'm partly to blame for this, but the thing is, she's partly to blame as well. Of course, I was made to feel like an asshole for everything...Anyway, on a lighter note, I get to go

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1154804415383506862006-08-05T14:42:00.000-04:002006-08-06T14:47:32.156-04:00

I needed to write something. I couldn't bear standing around in my apartment listening to one of my downstairs neighbors rant about a moldy paper towel that was somehow left in the sink."OH! THAT'S FUCKING DISGUSTING!""What?""There's a paper towel that was left on one of the dishes!""Ohhh...""A paper towel...sitting on a dish in water...for EIGHT DAYS! That's fucking disgusting. It's all moldy

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1154721952555568882006-08-04T15:47:00.000-04:002006-08-04T16:05:52.676-04:00

Today I was doing some reminiscing, and I shuddered at the thought of all the memories that came rushing back to me. Now someone named "Joe" (could have been some other schmuck I used to hook up with that made me feel more than miserable about myself) left a message on my blog, and so that made me think of this guy I used to date (see previous blogs), and I got all warm and fuzzy inside......

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1154656771192929412006-08-03T21:44:00.000-04:002006-08-04T14:52:10.540-04:00

I made my first meal today. Usually I leave it up to my boyfriend to make my dinner (my independence stops in the kitchen), but since he's staying at his place tonight, I had no other choice but to make my own meal. What's a girl to do?Well, I've gone low-carb just like every other person on this planet. I started that South Beach Diet two weeks ago. Let me just say that low-carb diets do not

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1154575055682497592006-08-02T23:07:00.000-04:002006-08-02T23:17:35.730-04:00

About a year ago I wrote a blog about water. I believe that was a rare time in New York where there was rain, rain, and nothing but more rain. My people don't do well with rain, and they sure as hell don't do well in sweltering heat. Sure, I grew up in TEXAS, home of 100+ weather, but this heat and the humidity is killing me - not to mention my hair. I don't get my hair professionally

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1154490358387596222006-08-01T23:37:00.000-04:002006-08-01T23:45:58.420-04:00

Today I met my boyfriend's father. Long story short? I've been dying to meet The Parentals for months, now. I've met Momma, and all that was left was meeting Poppa!Well I met Poppa today. Poppa reminds me of a jolly Chinese Santa Claus. I wanted to scoop him up and put him in my pocket. Poppa said three words to me - more than what the Momma ever says to me in her stilted English."Hello!" I

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1151674556809636782006-06-30T09:27:00.000-04:002006-06-30T09:35:56.846-04:00

If you're wondering where I've been for the past six months, well...I suppose I'll have to tell you the consolidated version here.I was kidnapped by fourteen sex-crazed Chippendale's dancers who just needed a quick infusion of sexual chocolately goodness that only I could provide. Okay, so maybe you don't believe that answer, but it's absolutely true - or at least it's the best explanation that I

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1136603804426856472006-01-06T22:05:00.000-05:002006-01-06T22:17:19.740-05:00

That's right, ME! I noticed I had been away much too long when: A. My last post was written on November 11, 2005B. I forgot my stinking password to log in so I could post.So I'm back. In the past two months I've had roommate drama, grad school drama, and work drama. The only drama I have been fortunate enough NOT to have was...can anyone guess? Anyone? Anyone? BOYFRIEND DRAMA! Thank

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1131712616888655972005-11-11T07:27:00.000-05:002005-11-11T07:36:56.956-05:00

I'm not really going on a Roman holiday. In fact, I haven't even updated my pasaporte. The only holiday I'm taking will be within the Continental United States to Mystic, Connecticut.The Boyfriend decided we should take a trip together about three weeks ago. He planned everything. Very charming, I must say, although I was really holding out for the getaway to Las Vegas. I really wanted to

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1130896646606908442005-11-01T20:43:00.000-05:002005-11-01T20:57:26.660-05:00

Yesterday I wore a scarf with my outfit. Today, I wore a light turtleneck. It's like 70 degrees outside and I'm wearing my winter/fall attire. Why? Because the artist formerly known as Boy (he's now known as The Boyfriend...yes, it's official) attacked my neck when we were supposed to be napping the other day. Everything started off harmlessly, and we were trying to sleep when..."So uh, do

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1130469961751251202005-10-27T23:23:00.000-04:002005-10-27T23:26:01.806-04:00

Boy is awesome. Details to follow at 8 p.m.

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1130234029197842552005-10-25T05:41:00.000-04:002005-10-25T05:53:49.263-04:00

The first rule of Date Club is never let him see you sweat.The second rule of Date Club is to never let him know how you really feel.The third rule of Date Club is to say "fuck it" to the first two rules, and let Eddie Norton and Brad Pitt kick your ass for forgetting the first two rules.So this leads me to Boy. He arrived back in the States at midnight yesterday. We hung out later in the

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1129862005712147152005-10-20T22:21:00.000-04:002005-10-20T22:35:11.530-04:00

A true dame never kisses and tells. But I'm not really a true dame, am I?Of course not.Anyway, I've enjoyed the time I've been spending with Boy. He's quite fun and interesting, and I have never a dull moment when I'm hanging out with him. A few of my friends have met him, and they've approved. In fact, Boy has a bigger fan base than the artist formerly known as the Supah Lovah. Dear God.

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1129353067589291682005-10-15T01:07:00.000-04:002005-10-15T01:11:07.606-04:00

i just can't be grammatically correct right now, so please forgive the lowercase letters and piss-poor use of punctuation.i just came back home from spending an evening with boy. oh he's a cutie, alright - a cutie patootie. the jrae, ricey, dan, and a few others met boy. so far they're liking what they see, which is nice. i like what i see as well. i like all of it. all, i tell you.

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1129207985336195882005-10-13T08:38:00.000-04:002005-10-13T08:53:05.363-04:00

Over the summer it was the heat. Now it's a torrential downpour that is threatening humanity. Okay, so maybe not ALL of humanity. Now here's the thing: as much as Blackfolk hate the heat, we hate torrential downpours even more. My people already endured enough boat rides in their lifetimes. Why create the need for MORE boat rides? It's raining so much that I'm frantically searching the

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1128983302256741542005-10-10T18:18:00.000-04:002005-10-10T18:28:22.293-04:00

Now when I say "it", I mean my thoughts. My mind is racing, and I'm starting to think I'm uber insane. Wait. We all know I'm insane, it's just the thinking I'm insane that's making my brain hurt.Anyway, I'm still sick. The upside to being sick is that Boy called to see how I was feeling. Let's say that I felt MUCH better after he called...I mean, he DID call me a Communist because I don't

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1128882193333811492005-10-09T14:13:00.000-04:002005-10-09T14:24:53.286-04:00

I'm not feeling well. I've a sore throat. Of course, I don't think being out and about in the rain all day into the night, staying out until 3:00 a.m., and uh, drinking five alcoholic beverages did me much good either.I went to dinner and the comedy club with Boy last night. Let's just keep it short, sweet, and to the point: I had an AWESOME time. Spectacular. Let's just say that getting

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1128716943669993092005-10-07T16:21:00.000-04:002005-10-07T16:29:33.256-04:00

Things that make me feel ill:1. Watching a commuter on the subway pick his forehead acne repeatedly. It was like watching a bad shampoo commercial. Instead of the usual wet hair, lather, and repeat, it was pick; scratch; repeat; sniff fingers. Yes, he sniffed his fingers after picking his acne. This acne picker was sitting right across from me, too! How dare he pick a seat right in front of

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1128395130787690392005-10-03T23:00:00.000-04:002005-10-03T23:05:30.810-04:00

I went out to dinner with my friend Ricey this evening. After dinner, I reaffirmed my single status by touching my head full of weird colored hair (no, I don't dye it, it's just this really "unique" color...my arm hair has a unique color to it as well, as it's blond...don't ask, because I know the milkman was involved). As I ran my hand down to my nubby tail I noticed that my hair has an

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1127959571570914492005-09-28T21:49:00.000-04:002005-09-29T06:17:14.030-04:00

Get out your bowls of popcorn, kiddies. Dumbass #2 and I had it OUT this afternoon. I can't go into all the sordid details because I should be getting ready for bed, but here are some highlights. Please keep in mind that all of these quotes came straight out of Dumbass #2s mouth."I try to be considerate...do you understand?"(Commentary: I think I shot that bitch the most evil glare that I

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1127870683249744622005-09-27T21:02:00.000-04:002005-09-27T21:24:43.273-04:00

I'm starting to get dum - D-U-M - DUM. There is no "b" at the end of "dumb" anymore, because my fifth graders are driving me so absolutely up the fucking wall, that all the "b's" are being used to create very bad words.I know you guys can think of at least TWO bad words that begin with the letter "b". Points to the first people who can make at least two bad words with the letter "b".So today we

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1127660856290274662005-09-25T11:07:00.001-04:002005-09-25T11:40:43.863-04:00

First of all, "let me hear you say 'this shit is bananas - b-a-n-a-n-a-s!'".Secondly, let me just preface this by saying that I know for a FACT Ex-HB #2 (Or is it Ex-HB #1? Damn, I forget sometimes) is reading this. In fact, he reads all my blogs...anyway, where was I? Oh. The story. Drama, but not of the worst variety. It was just drama. No cats, no Wookies, no roomates, or small children

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1127346090696282272005-09-21T19:17:00.000-04:002005-09-21T19:45:01.376-04:00

It's been a week since I've last written. Holy shit, I'm turning into a hermit or something, aren't I? I mean, I'm not REALLY a hermit, it's just that now's the only time I've been able to breathe and have some sort of down time.So should I go into shocking revelations or no? Yeah, I'm tired of being cryptic too. Shocking revelation number one? The Supah Lovah and I are no more. Ooooh. That

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1126750964154034912005-09-14T22:11:00.000-04:002005-09-14T22:22:44.170-04:00

...because I have a lot of patience, and it's being tested daily.I was talking to the good old parental unit the other day and I came to the realization that I have a lot of patience. I mean, people can basically stomp on me and at the end of the day, I'll keep my damn mouth shut. My friends can stomp on me, yell at me, or tell me that I have a care-free life (and sometimes they don't even know

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1126416757399565452005-09-11T01:17:00.000-04:002005-09-11T01:34:31.480-04:00

School started last week, and let me just say this: My class of fifth graders is just scrumptious! My students are so incredibly cute that I just want to squeeze all of their little cheeks! Oh they're so incredibly small and cute! I just love them to pieces - all of them. I have an inkling that my feelings towards my students will change by the end of the week. Nothing lasts forever, right?On

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1126148495235463882005-09-07T22:55:00.000-04:002005-09-07T23:01:35.250-04:00

I'm supposed to be asleep right now.The first day of school is tomorrow, and all of my little munchkins are scheduled to arrive at 8:30 a.m. Yikes. I hope they bathe.So I know it's been a while since last I posted, but a lot of not so great stuff has been going on the past few weeks (more like two, but whatever). You know that feeling you used to get on amusement rides that went to fast? You

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1125523694038963412005-08-31T17:13:00.000-04:002005-08-31T17:28:14.046-04:00

The SL and I were having a conversation about dining at the Catfish Cafe over a late lunch today. Apparently he thinks it's funny to kiss a woman after he's dined.Me: That's disgusting!SL: You mean, you don't like it?Me: You shouldn't kiss ANYONE after dining on catfish. It's not good.SL: Well it tastes good to me.Me: Fine, but just keep it to yourself. I know I don't enjoy my scent. I don't

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1125063697858291062005-08-26T09:22:00.000-04:002005-08-26T09:41:37.876-04:00

So it's Friday, the beginning of the proverbial weekend.Okay. Nix that introductory sentence. I don't post for like what, two days and I think I'm the equivalent to a first rate novelist? Not my style. Let's begin again.I figured out why I love calling Hannah and harassing her in the morning. Number one, it's fun. Number two, Hannah is usually so disoriented when I call her in the morning

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1124777272170707632005-08-23T01:50:00.000-04:002005-08-23T02:13:58.616-04:00

Okay, so things here at Camp Bitter Bitch are the same. I mean, Camp BB is no Crawford, Texas. I don't have an ample ranch with a seven time Tour de France champion riding around (where Lance Armstrong would ride around is beyond me...I'm sure he'd be riding somewhere near where that damn U.S. Guv'ment mule I'm owed is camping out), but I do have A/C, functioning internet, and two roommates who

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1124405664630387762005-08-18T18:36:00.000-04:002005-08-18T18:54:24.646-04:00

I remembered watching those "Loony Tunes" cartoons when I was younger. There was this one particular cartoon where the animators spoofed all these famous actors of the 30s and 40s. If I'm correct, that "I vont to be alone!" comment was from the infamous Greta Garbo. But I could be wrong.So I'm exhausted, and I'm about to have a Mariah Carey breakdown a-la 2003 (is that date correct?). The only

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1124128381323441652005-08-15T13:48:00.000-04:002005-08-15T13:53:01.323-04:00

Okay, so remember that post I wrote about picking cotton and apologies for slavery and whatnot? We-e-e-ll, if you've been following that whole Vicente Fox commentary/dissertation on why Mexicans take jobs that "black people won't", then this should be of interest to you. Yes, you. No, not you in the suede coat, but you in the cheap imitation pleather jacket with your hand on your mouse. I know

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1124072009130282742005-08-14T22:00:00.000-04:002005-08-14T22:13:29.156-04:00

I absolutely LOVE tickling people. I love tickling people so much, it's one of my guilty pleasures. However, I have to make sure my victims are ready, willing, and able to withstand my very slight and nimble fingers.Tickling isn't just a skill, it's an art.SL: I have to get up.Me (kissing The SL's cheek): No! Don't!SL: I really have to pee. Me: Don't leave me...I waited and counted the

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1123998689920418612005-08-14T01:44:00.000-04:002005-08-14T01:55:47.816-04:00

I've been reading the "Sisterhood" books by Ann Brashares. Let me tell you this much: teen fiction is racy. It's far racier than anything I've ever read. Whew! I think - in the future, I mean - that instead of giving you guys lengthy preambles when writing about The Supah Lovah, I'm just going to write. But not tonight.Somehow The Sleepys caught up with me, and I can't rack my brain for

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1123792954775579412005-08-11T16:30:00.000-04:002005-08-11T16:42:34.783-04:00

I'll let all of you think what you will with that title. So I'm putting up another post. Yes, it's another conversation with The SL. In fact, we got into a little argument the other day about how I mention him in my posts. Long story short, he should be honored that I'm practically gushing about him on my blog! I mean, knowing MY track record, the fact that I'm 1: Very happy with him 2:

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1123641614488106042005-08-09T22:27:00.000-04:002005-08-09T22:41:19.200-04:00

I've started noticing that a lot of people have some really cool links and whatnot on their blogs. If I wasn't such a technotard, I might be able to have some jazzy links and cool things that the trendy kids have on their blogs.Maybe my lack of "cool things" is what's keeping people from reading this blog?Nah. I think it's because I'm fucking boring.So I saw the SL the other night. And now,

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1123359361338693352005-08-06T15:58:00.000-04:002005-08-06T16:17:32.143-04:00

Me: Um, why don't we try talking in bed?Supah Lovah: Okay...you've been a bad girl.It took all of my strength not to laugh. I wasn't going to laugh because The SL was being silly, it's just that...well, the SL strikes me as a conservative type. He also has this light and pleasing voice that doesn't make me want to take anything he says when he's trying to talk "dirty" seriously.Me: Okay. So

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1123339318197866932005-08-06T10:31:00.000-04:002005-10-10T19:00:07.316-04:00

until I've successfully smooched half of the partygoers. If you look carefully, you'll notice the JRae helping me live it up. It was a night to remember. There are more photos - more incriminating ones, actually - but I can't post those without permission. How I miss Happy Hour...

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1123207811479147142005-08-04T22:02:00.000-04:002005-08-04T22:10:11.493-04:00

I'm tuckered out and I think my funny bone has started to go into osteoperosis mode. My days now consist of trying to move on from worrying about my pea-brained Dumbasses #1 and #1; spending time (and sometimes fighting with) with SL; reading; watching "Fat Actress", and increasing the amount of melanin in my skin between the hours of high noon to 2 p.m.If only life could be like this ALL the

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1123017988462039752005-08-02T17:05:00.000-04:002005-08-02T17:26:28.490-04:00

"You're like a Chihuahuah!" Hannah exclaimed as the elevator doors closed in front of us. "You know how Chihuahuas are all yippy and then the minute something bad happens, they're whimpering?" Despite my mood, I had enough energy to let out a small chuckle.After a night of hanging out with our friend cardio stripteasing our way across the floor of Crunch's Kip's Bay gym, Hannah and I decided to

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1122876829696028442005-08-01T02:09:00.000-04:002005-08-01T02:13:49.703-04:00

The last time I went to Hannah's house - well, one of the few times that I remember her pulling a funny stunt on me, that is - she stuck a cork up my nose. I had dozed off during "Super Troopers", and she thought a funny way to wake me up was to put a cork up my nose."Uggggh. Quit it," I said in a monotonous voice as I shooed Hannah's hand away from my face.Hannah didn't know what to do, so

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1122746510051193032005-07-30T13:49:00.000-04:002005-07-30T14:01:50.060-04:00

"I'm going to have to kick you out," Supah Lovah said.It was 5:45 in the afternoon, and after spending an evening and more than half the day in bed and walking around the east and west sides of town looking for glasses frames for the Supah Lovah, it was time for him to give me the boot.So what did I do? I pouted, of course."Oh don't do that. Really, I need to do some work.""Well I can sit in

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1122564150417881412005-07-28T11:18:00.000-04:002005-07-28T11:24:28.123-04:00

And this is why e-mailing the JRae leads to some of the BEST conversations ever...And now, an excerpt from The JRae's e-mail:"Good luck with the sex! If it doesn't happen at least make him give youhead and get off.Otherwise dump his ass immediately. A girl hasneeds.;)" And now, a part of my reply to The JRae..."Um, I don't think giving head is kosher. I'll have to ask the Supah Lovah. I mean,

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1122478845289620242005-07-27T11:35:00.000-04:002005-07-27T11:40:45.296-04:00

For years I've wondered what's inside those blasted mailboxes with no slots. I've walked past them every day and was never able to discern their purpose.Until today.I had stepped off the Q and walked a few blocks from the station. As I was walking I was fortunate enough to stumble upon a (gasp!) postal worker opening one of the mysterious no-slot mailboxes. I watched gape-mouthed and wide eyed

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1122435055514232302005-07-26T23:21:00.000-04:002005-07-26T23:30:57.860-04:00

Chapter One: A Good Friend Is Always There - And She Suggests A Good Title for a BookI was bitching and ranting to Jen, my former college roomate, about my summer courses."...and then I have to create a lesson plan and do a demo lesson! DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND THAT I DON'T EVEN DO THIS CRAP FOR MY STUDENTS DURING THE YEAR?!" I screamed into the phone."It'll be okay," Jen sighed."...and then he

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1122346759854976822005-07-25T22:55:00.000-04:002005-07-25T22:59:19.860-04:00

Today during my dreaded Child Development class at Hunter, I glanced over at my classmate Peri's notes because our professor was talking too damn much and too damn fast. Apparently I had missed a lot of what our professor was spouting about Freud's stages of childhood development and had to refer to Peri's copious notes to bring me up to speed. I was furiously writing down one of the

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1122295719488245072005-07-25T08:41:00.000-04:002005-07-25T08:48:39.496-04:00

"OH MY GOD! MY PARENTS JUST INVITED US TO MEET THEM IN ATLANTIC CITY TOMORROW!" Hannah screamed. I was sitting on her couch watching tv and making my body regain its natural level of hydration after sitting outside in Prospect Park for two hours."Huh?" I said as I looked at Hannah."YOU HAVE TO COME WITH ME TO ATLANTIC CITY TO GO TO THIS BUFFET!" Hannah screamed as I was sitting on her couch. I

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1122262778088165542005-07-24T23:34:00.000-04:002005-07-24T23:39:38.096-04:00

I'm really tired, but I have to - much like the JRae - put down a list of things to discuss in my next post (whenever that will be).-Lameness-Dinner with Sash and Hannah on Saturday at Tutta Pasta (what happens when you mix three Sagii with two glasses of Merlot, one glass of Pinot Grigio, Italian food, and a cheeky Italian waiter?)-My friend Maureen's party at Plan B-Hannah getting attacked by

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1122160281003293932005-07-23T18:59:00.000-04:002005-07-23T19:11:21.010-04:00

I saw the Supah Lovah yesterday. We went to the Brooklyn Museum, and then we made dinner at his house. Now when I write "we made dinner at his house", I basically mean that Supah Lovah did all the cooking and I watched. He told me to relax and gave me a glass of white wine. So I read a cookbook and sipped on wine while he cooked. Let's just say I was giddy as a little schoolgirl. I haven't

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1122035978535910762005-07-22T08:23:00.000-04:002005-07-23T12:08:39.670-04:00

My friend Joanna lives, works, and breathes in London these days, and she's doing quite well for herself at a marketing firm. Her friend, Clare, sent her a link to Something Positive, this wonderfully cheeky website. I encourage anyone with a sense of humor to read it.So the bidness.Yesterday, Paris (aka Dumbass #2) to me and Nicole (Dumbass #1) about the bills. I love the way my two roommates

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1121830536470070152005-07-19T23:33:00.000-04:002005-07-19T23:35:36.480-04:00

This post is courtesy of The Mothership Connection. When I discovered this blog (not to mention this post), I peed ten times over. This is one of THE sexiest posts I've had the fortune of reading. This blog is awesome. I just wanted to give these boys their proppas.Props, men, for knowing what a girl wants, needs, and desires to read.Sincerely,BitterBitch

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1121801430238935382005-07-19T15:21:00.000-04:002005-07-19T15:30:30.250-04:00

As if his bluntness wasn't enough...I think Supah Lovah is starting to grow on me - immensely. Last night SL and I went to watch a documentary about the Ramones."You do know who the Ramones are, don't you?" SL asked me. I stopped dead in my tracks. I knew a little about the Ramones, but since they're not a part of my regular music collection, I had to feign like I knew a lot about them."Oh

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1121624714810935612005-07-17T14:10:00.000-04:002005-07-19T15:30:51.776-04:00

July 14, 2005Setting: Hannah's house in Park Slope. It's 9:30 p.m., and Hannah was in the kitchen cooking up some MEAN turkey burgers for the undernourished (aka ME).Me: So the new Harry Potter book comes out this week.Hannah: Uh, yeah, ok.Me: It's the new Harry Potter book, Hannah! Come on! Harry's going to be in his SIXTH year at Hogwarts! Do you know what this means?Hannah: What's more

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1121351017329154782005-07-14T10:12:00.000-04:002005-07-14T11:48:08.496-04:00

Now that I have your attention, here are a few of my summer selections in books and music.This has to be the best sociological studies book I've read in AGES! Author Adrian LeBlanc chronicles the lives and hardships of two families in the South Bronx during the early 80s. It's an intriguing read, and the pace is fairly quick. In fact, this book reads JUST LIKE a fiction book. I highly

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1121262029479309172005-07-13T09:31:00.000-04:002005-07-13T20:43:03.280-04:00

It all started that evening when Supah Lovah and I returned to his lair from the Sunday picnic. Actually, it started when I awoke from being asleept for 9 hours. It was 3:00 a.m. and I was feeling rather...FRISKY.Supah Lovah: Stop. I'm really tired.Me: Hmmm?Supah Lovah: No really. I'm really tired. You had a chance to sleep and get your rest. Why don't you...why don't you go read a book or

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1121223493411690662005-07-12T22:56:00.000-04:002005-07-12T23:05:30.526-04:00

Needless to say that the Bitch(es) of the Month go to my roommates, who are very much like Nicole and Paris before the big rift. I give a big hats off to these two daring divas because they not only brought a cat into the household after I told them that I was allergic to cats, but they also had someone take care of the cat while the two of them were away. I hate being considered somewhat akin

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1121132106576833622005-07-11T21:20:00.000-04:002005-07-11T21:38:02.206-04:00

I was with the Superhuman Supah Lovah yesterday. We went to the Central Park for a picnic and walk. Supah Lovah has some really good superpowers, because he somehow latched onto the fact that white wine (or any other sort of wine, for that matter)is my weakness; my kryptonite, as it were.After a good several hours in the park (I unsuccessfully tried to take a nap in the park, but Supah Lovah

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1120828258674721612005-07-08T09:03:00.000-04:002005-07-08T09:10:58.680-04:00

We were just supposed to be making out - nothing more, nothing less. But something happened on the way to the Making Out station, which just so happened to be five minutes away from the Kissing Post. Apparently my rivial superhero's superpowers were a little strong, and my clothes were suddenly exchanged for a robe.And as his hands lifted the lower half of the robe and began roaming, prodding,

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1120660021162898222005-07-06T10:16:00.000-04:002005-07-06T10:27:01.173-04:00

Anyone remember that Patti LaBelle song "New Attitude"? For whatever reason, the song just popped into my head. Especially the part where she belts, "Ooo-ooo-oo-ooooooooo..." into the music break.Anyway, I was sitting eating breakfast in Hell's Kitchen this morning when this 9 year-old boy at another table started making gurgling noises. At first I thought he was belching until I heard..."

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1120446770314747992005-07-03T23:02:00.000-04:002005-07-03T23:12:50.333-04:00

I finally decided that my ass and thighs are in need of some serious help. Sure, I go to spinning classes and sweat out at least 1/3rd of my body weight in water, but my ass and thighs still look like something from Planet Cottage Cheese landed on them.In a very bold and unprecedented move, I gave into the "hype" and bought that Dove Firming lotion. I saw the ad while I was walking in the Union

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1120391664026388362005-07-03T07:18:00.000-04:002005-07-03T08:32:34.573-04:00

Disclaimer: If you're going to be offended by my current sense of bitterness, then please don't read this post. I was just sitting around with some thoughts, and I joked with my friends about this the other night, and boom! This post was created. If you don't agree with any of the views expressed in this post, move on...The Japanese got their apology and reparations for having a less than

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1120357167943223002005-07-02T22:12:00.000-04:002005-07-02T22:19:27.950-04:00

Last night I went out with Jen and her boyfriend, Dan; Clarice and her beau, Mark; Scott and Matt (Clarice and Jen's co-workers) to this restaurant/bar in the West Village called Lederhossen. Clarice, Mark, and I remained at the restaurant/bar until our systems couldn't take any more German goodness.On the train ride back into Brooklyn, Ricey and I were talking about how pathetic boys are.

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1120177647607863732005-06-30T20:19:00.000-04:002005-07-01T06:35:09.400-04:00

So The Jenny Rae and I were having some e-mail politicking this evening, and naturally our conversation turned to sex. I was complaining (something that I usually do when it comes to sex) about my horrible dry spell and how I'm going to die of No Sexitis, when I remembered that all my problems would be resolved if I just bought a vibrator - another one, might I add, since Mr. 'Bama died a

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1119924627823939522005-06-27T21:30:00.000-04:002005-06-27T22:10:27.853-04:00

One of the students in the other 5th grade class presented me with a mix. We know I have too much time on my hands and I'm currently in the process of thinking of a supersexy cd mix of my own, must share my OWN ideas for songs that represent my "thug passion".And here it is.1. "Don't Cha" - The Pussycat Dolls2. "1 Thing" - Amerie3. "Left and Right" - D'Angelo feat. Redman and Method Man4. "Hump"

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1119756288265816962005-06-25T23:10:00.000-04:002005-06-25T23:24:48.273-04:00

I just finished "The L Word". Unfortunately, since I don't have Showtime, I can't watch season 2 of the show. WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?I mean, Tina just caught Bette cheating on her with some hot chick named Candace; Jenny keeps sleeping around and her ex, Tim, got pissed off when Jenny started dating men; Dana got engaged to some starfucker; Shane got slapped with a restraining order and a threat

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1119741130449451312005-06-25T18:48:00.000-04:002005-06-25T23:40:35.630-04:00

I knew something was terribly wrong when Larry, my Saturday morning spinning instructor announced that his son was accepted into the Air Force."My son made it into the Air Force this week!" Larry shouted."Whoo hoo!" a random woman on a bike at the front cheered. "Yeah! He was accepted, and before he was accepted, he had to make weight!"I thought it was highly amusing how everything that came out

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1119584463181548942005-06-23T23:24:00.000-04:002005-06-24T06:32:13.106-04:00

Okay, so I bought the Pussycat Dolls single "Don'Cha". It's such a hot song that it's become my new mantra...and now I will recite some of the chorus for you. Ahem.Don'cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?Don'cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?Don'cha? Don'cha?Don'cha wish your girlfriend was raw like me?Don'cha wish your girlfriend was fun like me?I think these girls wrote this

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1119397450987052062005-06-21T19:42:00.000-04:002005-06-21T19:44:10.996-04:00

This is like a special edition right here. I'm serious. My friends have a habit of sending out those "get to know me better" quizzes. So me, being the sarcastic person that I am, responded. Here were my answers. I think they've definitely changed between now and the time I first took this quiz, but hey. I'm too lazy to edit. Enjoy.Subject: Learn about me (as if you already didn't know that

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1119393403609291632005-06-21T18:25:00.000-04:002005-06-21T18:36:43.620-04:00

When I was 9 years old, I made the grave mistake of being a Girl Scout, and because I was a Girl Scout, I was sent away to an overnight camp with some of the "girls" for a weekend. One of our tasks was to perform a skit in front of the entire Girl Scout camp. The skit was titled "Is It Time Yet?", and boy was it a hoot.Basically my troop and I sat around in a line with our right legs crossed

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1119315876859455312005-06-20T20:51:00.000-04:002005-06-20T21:06:01.890-04:00

"So maybe he's in love with you!" Stacy replied.I had dropped off a book at Stacy's office so her adorable cousin could have some study material for a City Wide exam he has to take in August. Poor little me had just come from my spinning class at Crunch on 13th Street (more on that later) and stopped by Stacy's to pick up the book.I stopped dead in my tracks and looked at Stacy as we waited for

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1119184262771036552005-06-19T08:22:00.000-04:002005-06-19T08:31:02.776-04:00

Well if the Strokes could make a song about "Last Nite" I most certainly can post about "That Nite".Last Friday my friends and I had a little happy hour goodness at two spots: Botanica and Madame X (aaah, the memory of Madame X makes me pee just a little). Let me just say that I had a FANTABULOUS time, and that I do some pretty silly things when I'm inebriated.Oh. I didn't realize that most of

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1119103025027575092005-06-18T09:28:00.000-04:002005-06-18T09:57:05.033-04:00

...but what about Wookies and their ugly-assed girlfriends?I was getting myself normalized in the "common bathroom" this morning when I heard Dumbass #1 and The Wookie having morning sex. First the bed started creaking (creak creak creak!) and then I heard the moans (moan moan - oh yeah...right there! - moan moan moan!). Sure, everyone needs to get their freak on, but...ugh! If there were ever

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1118977879125734842005-06-16T23:04:00.000-04:002005-06-16T23:12:20.703-04:00

Despite my drama with my roommates, co-teacher, et cetera, et cetera, this e-mail from Alex completely made my day. Let's roll that Beautiful Bean Footage, shall we (I need a hobby...)?"Remember I told you I grabbed him and said, 'Man, what are you waiting for? Ican see you want to kiss her!' That is when he replied,'There are too manypeople around.'He was very sincere."You know, when I finally

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1118954182676096512005-06-16T16:32:00.000-04:002005-06-20T20:51:28.316-04:00

I swear to God, my roommates (Dumbass #1 and Dumbass #2) have THE worst logic on the face of this earth. I tell them I'm allergic to cats, they go out and get one. I tell them not to feed the animals, and they let their boyfriends stay for days and days and days at a time. If anyone knows how to get rid of these bitches, please let me know. And now, for your reading enjoyment, here is a

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1118867884003496972005-06-15T16:21:00.000-04:002005-06-15T16:38:05.506-04:00

As I was commuting into work this morning, my mind kept replaying my Beautiful Bean Footage. I think I started blushing on the train not once, but MORE than once. Proof that I need a hobby. So there I was in my hot, humid room last night waiting for my friend, Ricey, to call me so we could head out to dinner. Last Saturday I rented "The L Word" becasue I've never seen the show and I've heard

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1118709689441285312005-06-13T20:33:00.000-04:002005-06-13T20:41:29.450-04:00

What day am I on with this heat thing? The heat is still killing me, and I'm praying for a miracle snowstorm to come along.And God laughs at me, says a big no, and continues filing HER fingernails. Just like a woman.So there I was in therapy venting about the occurrences of the previous week. The Good Doc just looked at me in amazement as a week's worth of anger at a lot of stuff (friends,

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1118623591676151292005-06-12T20:33:00.000-04:002005-06-12T20:46:31.683-04:00

I recently attended Hannah's mother's second wedding. I never knew I could cry at weddings, but I did at this one. In fact, I bawled like an idiot. Why? Because it was one of the rare times that I've ever witnessed two people who were so in love. It was such an amazing time. The ceremony was simple, beautiful, and laid back. The ring bearer and flower girl were adorable, and there were

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1118539953900004072005-06-11T21:22:00.000-04:002005-06-16T22:53:42.626-04:00

So maybe this hasn't been my week. In fact, I KNOW it hasn't been my week. Why? Well, partially because of the heat and partially because of all the snow I've been seeing lately.No, there's no snow in June, but there's plenty of flakes - enough to be seen all around my snow globe. And by flakes I mean flaky people. If there's one thing I can't stand on Day 5 of interminable heat, it's

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1118450997634834032005-06-10T20:34:00.000-04:002005-06-12T08:46:44.833-04:00

Day 4.Imagine my surprise when the morning heat was miraculously replaced with cloudy skies and the hint of a cool west by southwest breeze...And rain.If there's nothing blackfolk don't like more than the heat of the blazing sun (we had enough of it when we were picking cotton, thank you), it's WATER. Okay, sure. My mother made certain that I ADAPTED to the New World by taking swimming lessons

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1118371497341134402005-06-09T22:40:00.000-04:002005-06-09T22:46:25.560-04:00

Not but three days before this wedding I'm supposed to attend and I get a huge zit. A HUGE one. It makes me think of the time that I first went to see Doc P., my dermatologist?"You're skin is very oily," he said as he looked at my forehead."Like, DUH!" I wanted to scream. On the hottest of hot days my skin produces enough sebum to somehow convert itself into fossil fuel oils. No really. Why

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1118367951996901232005-06-09T21:27:00.000-04:002005-06-09T21:45:52.003-04:00

...the crazier I get.Now Robert Palmer may have sang a song with the refrain "Some Like It Hot", but let me tell you this much. I hate the heat - unless it's created by the friction of a hot boy rubbing up against me (something which RARELY happens). Again, the adaptations have yet to settle into place. Maybe I'm not dark enough to sustain the heat? Maybe God made a mistake? Oh how much

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1118276958847130842005-06-08T20:15:00.000-04:002005-06-08T20:29:18.853-04:00

...of this FUCKING HEAT! My black ass DEFINITELY has NOT adapted to heat. I would have thought that generations upon generations of picking cotton, dancing on the West coast of Africa, and being forced to live in Texas would have SOMEHOW effected MY genetic makeup. I, however, am dead wrong. Nothing transferred to me. Not a damn thing.Day 2: Things I Just CANNOT Deal With When It's Hot, by

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1118192529194652722005-06-07T20:55:00.000-04:002005-06-07T21:02:09.213-04:00

...so when I got home I rushed to the bathroom and hopped into the shower. There's something I'm failing to understand about living in New York City. It's called humidity, and I don't deal well with it at all. Sure, we black folk should have adapted to interminable heat, but really. My black ass hasn't adapted, and I lived in TEXAS for a majority of my life. I mean, I remember summers so hot

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1117949483962633282005-06-05T01:18:00.000-04:002005-06-12T08:08:46.513-04:00

...and that was right before I kissed him back - for at least 20 minutes in front of ALL my friends. And damnit, it was so hot that I peed in my pants ten times over. "But Kirsten, it's not pee, it's female ejaculate!" my friend Jen always screams."Really?""No! YES, really.""You're kidding. I do no such thing.""Think again, sister."But I'm not talking about that kiss or "female ejaculate",

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1117596860441729832005-05-31T23:22:00.000-04:002005-05-31T23:34:20.446-04:00

There I was in therapy all excited to dish about my glorious low-key, fantabulous weekend. And dish I did. When I finally finished my soap opera, I reached down and patted one of the doc's dogs on the tummy before turning to the doc and giving her a half-smile. "Well," my therapist began. "I think you're scared." "No, I'm just realistic," I wanted to say. "My friends had to stop me from

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1117510379264083232005-05-30T23:28:00.000-04:002005-05-30T23:32:59.266-04:00

Clarice is the best friend ever. She must have known that I lost my beloved Elmo about three years ago, because she brought me back a little sumfin' from her trip to Florida: MICKEY MOUSE IN UNIFORM!My face glowed as she explained the reason behind the purchase. I immediately asked, "Can I sleep with it?""Oh yes!" she answered with equal enthusiasm.And if there was nary an inside joke, this

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1117417165275148832005-05-29T21:36:00.000-04:002005-05-30T07:34:05.800-04:00

Apparently my making out in public habits have everyone racing home to find their lovers. I've even made a few people fumble around for cigarettes. You know you're something special when your close friends watch you making out and all they can say is "BA-DAMN!"Me: I'm who you should be making out with.Thus concludes my SECOND horn-blowing and tooting PSA.

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1117308390099532172005-05-28T15:22:00.000-04:002005-05-30T23:34:42.773-04:00

The story is too long to relate here, but I'll just make a list of the evening and you can piece it together as you wish.1. Happy Hour at Madame X with Jen, Dan, Mark, Hannah, Matt, and Alex. Amazing time - as always. Unfortunately, Jen didn't have her digital camera to record the fun - and what fun there was to be had.2. Drinking one of every drink on the Happy Hour menu with aformentioned

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1117061260969578022005-05-25T18:35:00.000-04:002005-05-30T23:27:20.900-04:00

And the fact of the matter is that no one gives a hoot.So I was on the train today going about my business when I noticed this guy's erection. That's a good intro, right? That's the best lead I've ever thought of to date. Before anyone starts thinking I'm a perv, let's just say that this penis was definitely at my eye level. I was sitting down and the owner of the boner was standing up only a

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1117017210462275852005-05-25T06:23:00.000-04:002005-05-30T23:33:55.390-04:00

...and you're going to be THE first people on Earth to hear about it here. The dance was conceived - much like most of my other dances(e.g. "The Fat Kid Dance") - over a sushi dinner and wine. It's called "The Memory of...", and it goes like this:Step 1: Place both hands in front of your face, palms facing inward.Step 2: Move your head from side to side and make kissy noises. Repeat as many

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1116973893015431072005-05-24T18:16:00.000-04:002005-05-24T18:31:33.020-04:00

I had a conversation with my good friend Elles last Saturday, and she mentioned something that struck a nerve."K, why am I always falling for the ones that are unavailable?"And to that I said, "Welcome to MY life, Elles."It's rather funny that Elles questioned the one thing that has been a regular occurrence for me since I became twitterpated at the tender age of 15. Oh yes. I always fall for

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1116879506119125762005-05-23T16:11:00.000-04:002005-05-30T23:25:27.953-04:00

"No honey, it was a date-free weekend," I replied. Jenny is always wondering when I'm going to get another "free meal". She's cute that way. I hate to tell her that I'm really not dating to get free meals, I'm dating to meet people... Now tomorrow I have a little appointment with the gynecologist. I'm a little frightened because it's going to be the first time in a month that a member of the

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1116812129565537132005-05-22T21:19:00.000-04:002005-05-22T22:01:14.163-04:00

I'm only doing this because I just flew back from Texas and I'm bored as balls.1. Makeout with a total stranger in an elevator (insert "Love in An Elevator" by Aerosmith here, please).2. Join the Mile High Club while on a transatlantic flight.3. Have a "lovah" (not a lover, but a LOVAH).4. Have the love I feel for someone reciprocated.5. Fall in love, not lust.6. Be a script writer for a hot new

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1116736145382086542005-05-22T00:10:00.000-04:002005-05-22T00:29:05.386-04:00

There's nothing like flying home for the weekend. Everything - and I do mean EVERYTHING - gets put into perspective. I mean, I was able to get blitzed with my mother over lunch (well, it was more like me getting blitzed on ONE frozen mango margarita while she watched me slurp up the frozen goodness in amazement); I got a haircut (nothing spectacular); and I baked in the Texas heat for about an

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1116620387614213242005-05-20T16:03:00.000-04:002005-05-20T19:23:22.830-04:00

And, in the words of Forest Gump, "That's all I have to say about that."

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1116540385810928832005-05-19T18:04:00.000-04:002005-05-19T18:12:43.630-04:00

I'm sorry, but this chick must be living in a perfect dating paradise. I want to know what she's doing or where she's finding these winners, because all I've been fortunately blessed to find are dicks...

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1116533853723840992005-05-19T16:03:00.000-04:002005-05-20T06:53:04.936-04:00

So for the past two days I've been sitting in a classroom in a school on the Lower East Side grading the 4th grade Citywide exams. My colleagues and I (about five other teachers and one "table leader") had to grade one math problem. The problem? Something about apples, oranges, and bananas. Don't worry, I'll include the problem at another point. The only thing you need to know about this

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1116383629226363812005-05-17T22:25:00.000-04:002005-05-17T22:33:49.226-04:00

A restraining order would probably be good about now, right?Anyway, I just met up with my therapist. Therapy. Yes. I took the move and decided to go because 1) I have a lot of issues and 2) I have a lot of issues - a lot of them having to do with relationships (Jesus, like we couldn't all tell...maybe it's me?). Okay, so I'm certain that all of you think I'm ten kinds of batty and maybe

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1116196959404254482005-05-15T18:34:00.000-04:002005-06-09T21:54:50.960-04:00

And I had to delete this - because I could. It's time to get over it...really.6/9/05

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1116101743593158242005-05-14T16:09:00.000-04:002005-05-14T16:15:43.596-04:00

I just met my friend Ricey's boyfriend, and I am DELIGHTFULLY happy for her. No really. She couldn't have met a better guy. The minute I met him my insides went "Awww" because this boy is EXACTLY what Ricey needs - especially after that ex who I felt treated her in a more than sub-par way. Jesus. The Ex really needed a clue sometimes...so what if I'm jumping the gun with the new boy? My

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11039432.post-1115954716822527452005-05-12T23:23:00.000-04:002005-05-18T06:03:34.340-04:00

...learn how to make coffee, biatch!Okay, so they cheered me up this evening over sushi, plum wine, and green tea ice cream...and what do I do to thank them? I text Rob...but it was a funny text...like "I'm drunk am hooking up with a hot guy" send to my girlfriend but am too drunk to realize I sent it to you text. Awwww...I know. I needed to be immature. Don't hold it against me. Still drunk

BitterBitchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05099816506242397430noreply@blogger.com2