Desi Girl Called Isheeta

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned

There's a lady at work who has been pissing me off royally.

You know, I thought that when I get married, auntyji snickers and snide comments would stop. But as we all know by now, problems don't go away.. they just transform and mutate into witches.

So ever since I got married, she has been rubbing it in my face as to when I am going to have kids.

Like hello you dumb snooty lady, the honeymoon bed is still creaking loud and clear, ok?!

So I have been brushing it off albeit politely, because well, its none of her nosy business when my uterus decides to go into overdrive. Also, I have enough emotional drama going on in my life as a newly-wed to start thinking of spewing out babies. This lady, who we shall call RoyalBitchInTheAss for simplicity's sake, is a few years older than me. So yeah, not so much, because last I checked, I wasn't ready to keel over the grave or a will. She also has a teenage son, which means she was married when I was finishing up high school.

So while I was submitting my university entrance applications, this lady was lying in bed with her husband ensuring the survival of her RoyalBitch genes. Her mentality is old-school mentality (read: dumb)

It also seems that this lady is more concerned about my biological clock ticking away louder than my mother is. She's a generally nice funny person when she wants to be, but she is all about herself too. She can be such a catty catty woman. Ugh. I CANNOT stand women who are self-righteous catty snooty little twats. Since I have been married, it seems the number of women who fit into this category have suddenly increased at an exponential scale. I cannot begin to tell you the number of women I have come across who are so downright rude, inconsiderate, and openly back-bite just to get a rise out of you because they cannot stand your happiness, or because they don't have manners, or because thats how BROWN women are - catty, self-absorbent little bitches. NO wonder there are so many single brown people out there! Put together egotistical brown guys, with even more witchy egotistical brown girls, and presto, you have the biggest load of brown shit out there!

I'm sorry, I am not talking about the general brown desi population so you can lay off those pitchforks, I am talking about the few brown people/stereotypes out there who ruin it for all of us. Like that lady at work.

Yesterday I was really hungry and I didn't want to go to the vending machine, so RoyalBitchInTheAss offered me some grapes. I offered her my thanks and tell her that the grapes are a better alternative than the chocolate because I am trying to workout and eat healthy and lose weight. Then she asks me when I am going to have kids, because according to her, I AM GETTING OLD and I only have a few years left, and I shouldnt wait. I was almost tempted to yell at her very loudly that I had no intention of bringing any kids into this world who would be subjected to walking excrement like her. But I didn't. I just said that I was waiting till after my reception. She bulldozes that information then she proceeds to ask me how old I am. I add a few years to my age just to piss her off, and she goes, oh you must have some kids NOW, tut-tuting along.

I hope this lady dies.

I'm sorry there is no other way of making me feel better, than hopefully be present at her immediate and sudden demise. Which I also hope will be long and painful.

Today, while I was admiring one of my other good friends at work and how great she looked in those skinny jeans, RoyalBitchInTheAss goes, "well you better do something about it then!"

By this time, I am ready to fly in a rage, so I yell at her, "RoyalBitchInTheAss, why are you so mean?! You are so damned mean!"

RoyalBitchInTheAss responds, "thats how you're gonna get to it, you're gonna be inspired!"

I tell her, "Skinny jeans thinks the same way, but she isn't mean about it! You're like one of those mean auntijis that I hate and avoid at parties because they can't keep their mouth shut!"

RoyalBitchInTheAss is shocked, then responds, cutely, nicely "I gave you grapes!"

I wanted to tell her that she could shove her grapes up her ass for all I care, but then.. it was the longest 2 seconds of my life. I knew this was damage control, and I didnt want to cause a bigger scene than what I was already causing, so I said, also cutely, "fine!"

I was seething. Livid. Ready to explode.

Why are women like this?! If guys fought, they would FightClub this out. Sometimes I wish I was a guy.

Then I went back to work, and googled for online voodoo curses. Then I remembered they're haram. Then I went back to my work. again.

She later came up to me, to apologize. She asked me if I was still mad at her, and then she said that she understood, it is hard to lose weight. Really?! REALLY, you piece of jackass flostrum? Do you really understand my emotions and why I got harakiri on you, because if you really do understand, hallelluah there is hope that you are not going to die a lonely and miserable death!

Instead of freaking out at her and bitch-slapping her like I had imagined, and yelling at her that I hated her guts.... I just got a little teary and lumpythroatish (??????????? who knows, I don't know?!!?!!) and told her that we are cool. I am such a girl. I (almost) cry at everything!

It's not cool. I feel like such a sell-out. I was supposed to yank her hair, have her ass-whopped by a crocodile while a wild animal was gouging her eyes out, then toss her around like pigskin in a field of burly football players. Instead because I didn't want any drama, I said its cool.

It is not ok. I cannot stand people who think they know it all and go out of their way to make others feel like shit because it makes them feel good, pretending they are nice later on. Did I mention I have come across SO MANY OF THESE in the last 3 months?! It is like the floodgates of evil women have opened. I cannot believe women can be so catty and so bitchy. Clearly I have not hung around enough women like I thought I did. I so prefer guys to women at this rate. If a guy hates you, he tells you. He yells at you so you never want to go back to him.  If a girl hates you, she will candycoat her insults, so you can go back to her again and again to be insulted. No different than domestic abuse. What the hell?! I am not speaking for all women, I am speaking of the women who have the ability to do this, and do it simply because they believe they can get away with it.

So rather than being a similar worst snooty, inconsiderate, self-righteous, selfish catty little bitch out there, I let her get away with it and decided to be the biggest sappiest doormat out there.

I still hope she suffers a miserable existence. or death. i'm not picky.

Gag reflex

You know what I don't get?

People who tell me they are doing something exciting, and then I get all excited about their excitedness and ask them what they're doing, and they tell me:

"Oh well, I'm going to sit in front of my window, and read the newspaper, and drink my coffee  as I enjoy the sunshine and watch the lush green trees!!!! You should too!!!!"

WELL DIPPIDY DOO HALLE-FREAKIN-LLUAH!

That sounds as exciting and painful as getting every single strand of my hair braided into cornrows.

Are you freakin kidding me? Are you pure jokes?

• First, I am glad to hear you are taking your much-deserved vacay time. Trust me, if George W could do it while the country was going down in flames, so can you.
• Secondly, unless you are reading a magazine devoid of writings (hint hint), I highly doubt you will enjoy reading anything in print because believe it or not, as of right now, and I know this is hard to believe, the state of the world is .. to put it mildly, not good. So unless you are reading Reuter's Odd News, there is no good news in newspapers (also unless you are the lottery winner of the elusive jackpot).
• Thirdly, enjoying the sunshine and watching the lush green trees. I'm sorry, it doesn't get any better than this. Green trees are not going lush at an exponential rate, last I checked. Similar to paint drying, green trees do most of their work (ie greening) in the sunlight. My point being - SO WHAT????????????????????????

I'm happy to hear simplicity is a source of entertainment for you (also it costs nothing - mad props), but please do not make my stomach curl with your natterings about how I should pursue this activity too with exclamation marks... my period does a very good job of curling my stomach on its own, and that too every month. So there!

Of pansies, daisies and other flowers waiting to be de-virginized

Men, Since men are visual creatures, I thought maybe this would be a little more insightful just to get the point across. Also, the pic looks like 2 boobies/a bra, so I think men would aprpeciate this visual more.

Y'all know how Red Bull also pansied/wussied up on me on Valentine's day and totally ruined it. YES YES I KNOW its my fault.. what was I thinking when I agreed to go out with him for Valentine's for a lil ole movie and dinner for old friends sake. I just didnt wan't to be alone I guess, on a Saturday night FFS, but I didnt think he'd start taking advantage of my need to not be sitting at home and watching crappy romance movies by myself. I know, I take full responsibility. A lot of cheeseheads out there like me.

But apparently there are guys that are more cheesier than me. This is news to me.

I know we as women always complain or find excuses when guys don't give us the time of day when we need them to, how they don't live up to expectations, how they don't try when they don't care (see He's Just Not That Into You). But when they DO give us the time of the day, we are no different than guys. In fact, we tend to lose interest in them right away (see Madonna & A-Roid). And then when they resume to treating us like jerks, we go running to them (see... all the assholes of the world). Even when they beat us all black and blue. (See Rihanna & Chris Brown).

So I feel a bit bad posting this, because I am no different than a stereotype. Maybe I do deserve what I get. I've come across someone who is literally fawning over me, and all I can think of is.... what. a. pansy/wuss. I'd rather be alone than entertaining the thought of this. Is it SO bad to like someone for who they are? Do I really need this cheesy wannabe? Why am I such a bitch? WHY don't I care?

I'm posting this email communication between myself and a cheesehead on the password-protected site because I will feel like a total douchebag posting this live for the real world to dissect his cheeseiness (a 4-email thread). Someone obviously likes me, and all I can say is, "Dude, stop it. I'm THE girl, and YOU're the guy!!" If he ever comes across this, I don't want him to be hurt (he would be... trust me), so .... meh. Ya. Maybe I do deserve everything that's coming to me. But anyways, guys, please dont be pansies. If there's anything I've learnt, is that walk away with your self-respect and dignity intact if the girl doesn't like you.

People at work and other animals

Aaaaagh!!!

PMSing

It's funny how people enjoy my pissed off posts, when I'm throwing a hissy fit.. I guess I can see why. It's the same reason why I love it when that crazy chef from Hell's Kitchen (the ONLY reality show I can handle) makes everyone feel worse than monkey piss when they mess up in his kitchen.

Lately, I've been on a constant PMS mode. There are a few things that has been pissing me off royally, but I've held my tongue because... I've realized something. That while people LIKE reading/watching the pissed off woman blowing off someone's head, they don't really want to associate with her. Sad but true. I mean, I think Simon Cowell and Chef Ramsay are hilarious, but lets face it, they are assholes. I wouldn't want to raise my kids around them! Would you want to hang around me, in real life? I think not. I mean, even though my rants are strictly blog-based and I'm a passive aggressive beeyotch, and I'm an angel to people I like, if you piss me off, given what you have read of me so far, I wouldn't be someone you'd want to cross paths with, am I right?

Hmm.

Anywhos, my poor dad has been the subject of my constant PMS lately. Yesterday I practically bit his head off! Sometimes I am so irritable, its ridiculous. AAAAAAAAAAgh, little things piss me off. I mean, ok, do I talk fast? For those that have seen my videos, do I talk too fast? Why do I find myself constantly repeating EVERYTHING I say? How S-L-O-W should I speak so people can catch up and answer without going "uh" and me going "dohhhh!" And then I am SO irritable that I roll my eyes and breathe loudly so they can hear and then I make them feel *this* small.

Remember Curly Frickin Fry? He was that turd who called me clingy (go back a few angry posts). Well, that twat is STILL calling me. After 2 months. I dont get it. I mean, I have ignored ALL his calls. I told him that I dont have time for him because well, he said we have nothing in common and he called me clingy when he was the clingy and wtf should I waste / spend my precious weekend for dinner with him, when I can have the same pleasure with my macaroni and cheese in front of the telly? Now he is running after me. Not even running, he is sprinting, he would give the Olympians a run for their money. He is like a frickin parasite, a virus if you will, because he just won't go away! I must be the only girl idiot in Canada who went out with him, hahahahahahahahahhahaha! And when he calls, he just pretends like he is all cool. Cool for a turd, ya you stupid shit!

Oh oh, get this. Lawyers. Ok! I will be honest, I wanted to be a lawyer once. Justice and all those lies. But of course, I wasn't smart enough to get in to one, and my grades were awful as well. One thing that attracted me to law school was all the writing (besides arguing). I love writing. Especially technical stuff. You know the lawyer linguise.... where every other word is and thereof and hereof, and aforementioned clause and in lieu of this extenuating circumstances and paragraphs and paragraphs of words with commas and no periods. So anyways, I'm talking to this lawyer, and to cut a long story short, it is obvious he wants to get my attention. And since he notices I'm interested in certain evolutionary theories (in light of current dating practices such as how people have not really evolved, but more so regressed in terms of moral behaviours), he decides to espouse some theories of his own. Which was nice. At first. And so we have a constant banter back and forth about this very interesting topic. And more back and forth. And the thing is, if youre going to have agreements throughout this banter, its best to change topic and y'know, move on to something different, or something light.

What does this yeehaw do? He keeps repeating the topic. He keeps extrapolating the arguments. I tried to put something light in between. Hey, its Mandela's bday, the dude is 90! He keeps theorizing some more about the same topic. Beat a dead horse, much? Yeah smarty pants, I get it. Ok! You're an Osgoode grad, yeah, you're smart. Yeah I can keep up with the conversation all night baby, I WRITE, I can fix words, but I'm not here to defend a doctoral thesis on email. If I wanted to go to grad school, I would have.. very well paid some Admissions Committee to! Just because I said that I don't want someone to ask me my boobie size, does NOT mean that I want to discuss the dominant human socialization theories as to why men are dogs all night! Ya nerd, let it go! Youve impressed me, next stage, please.

Which brings us to the next topic. The reason why desi guys and girls are single everywhere (where I am) is because desi girls have progressed/changed... tis summer, and while 5 years ago, I would never have seen a desi girl in tank tops or mini skirts, now its common. Ok, no biggie, they have the body for it. Desi guys, well, they dont like it so much. I mean, yeah that skirt is nice on the floor of his Honda Civic or RSX Acura Integra whatever while he makes out with her, but not when he has to introduce her to his parents or cousins. Hmm. This doesnt piss me off, that it just makes me laugh because of the sheer stupidity there.

My job hunt - a fact of life. Did you know, that the senior directors of my profession will be extinct in the next 10 years? So that would pave the way for me to hold that lucrative spot in the next 10 years, right? Will I get there at this rate? Well, no, because I'm not good enough for these guys because I have ZERO experience. And since I have no experience, I cant get into this field. And so, the universal constant Catch 22 of life - no experience, no job. No job because of no experience. I'm not pissed at this either, because apparently I haven't licked enough boots or kissed enough asses as yet to warrant me a kickass job. Thats fine. But in a few years time when the industry will be mired in stagnation because of industry's refusal to give someone a chance FOR FREE, I will pull a Mariah Carey and put up a massive pink/lavender advertisement in Empire States Bldg telling them I Told You So!

And finally my last PMS rant - Hollywood - bleagh, nuff said. That Bin Laden creep would have gotten more attention if he lived up to his name and laid a few hollywood skanks instead if he really wanted attention. WHY is there more BREAKING NEWS (!!) about why Madonna and Guy Ritchie sleeping in separate beds and rumours of impending divorce than say, rigged elections in Zimbabwe or the global food price/oil crisis or cancer drug development or some man selling his life on e-bay? WHY? Why is everyone so obsessed with some dolt called Spencer from some teen bimbo soap who is apparently really stupid? WHO IS THIS TURD? WHO CARES?! Has he fixed global warming? Is he more boring than Al Gore? Is this guy the pregnant man? Does he have 10 balls? Someone explain this to me? Is he funnier than Stephen Colbert? Can he fry eggs on his nails like Chuck Norris? Why is this breaking entertainment news?! Why are we rewarding stupidity!!!!!!!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaagh! Ok! I'm done with my rant. I wasnt really pissed when I started, but now I'm just annoyed. Oh well, c'est la vie. I would like to hear from some of you people. Ok, I know I usually talk about more important matters in this blog (like ME), but now I want to hear if you have rants. This way, I get to see if I'm normal. And compare me. I mean, am I a socially acceptable person because of ... me and my oh-so-honest rants ? Am I just good reading material? Or am I real-life worthy?

One shot of insanity, please, and I'll have that to go... while I'm floating in limbo...

So as I had been whining lately, I've been sick and all. Since I hate hospitals and general health care professionals and the pill popping industry (although I am prospecting for a career in this field, yes), I thought I could get well by just thinking happy thoughts instead.

Big mistake. That's like saying, "If I close my eyes, maybe selective earthquakes would hit all dipshits of the world and strategically earthquakize them", which as we know is... a linguistic crime, albeit acceptable capital punishment.

SO I didnt get well. I got worse. I attended a lovely wedding at the end of the week, which may change my outlook on weddings... but only because the food was good and I had fabulous gorgeous company!!  I guess there IS a first time for everything! I also proceeded to make myself more sick in the process by indulging in more cold but oh-so-delicious mango ice cream. Because yes, that is what a girl needs when she is coughing up dry coughs like its going out of style, MORE sandpaper-throat causing food. I never learn.

I got home, crashed, and then I woke up dizzy, lightheaded, and the whole world spinning and buzzing like a bad discotheque minus the strobe lights but with a messy messy room. My body literally felt like rubber, I felt as if I had no spine, I couldnt even walk. And then for some ungodly reason, I tried to make sense of it all by talking to myself, telling myself that something is seriously wrong with me. The food last night, as good as it was, did not go very well with my cold/flu. I went over to the washroom and .......(sorry readers, I know you still love me hahahahahahaha)

My body was tingling all over, I couldnt feel anything beyond that, so I thought I should go down to the basement where my brother slept since maybe he could drag my ass to the hospital. I almost fell down the stairs (this would have been funny to watch dammit) the basement was so much cooler, I realized that maybe I was dehydrated and my blood was boiling and that could explain my dizzyness. So I thought, ok, when one is dehydrated one needs salts, yeah? Electrolytes and shit (grade 10 Bio, I dunno!). I thought, hey bananas have Potassium, maybe my Na+/K+ pump are not working, the ATP is not being generated for energy, my action potentials are not firing and thats why Im tingling all over and weak and...... (GRADE 10 BIO nonsense again!), so I grab a banana and chew a pinch of the banana then tried to close my eyes... and all I could think of was, "So this is what its like when youre dying".

I could see flashing neon lights like Vegas, I could see faces of my mom and dad, and thought a bit about my brothers and sister in law and my precious nephew, and then random thoughts like planes and world in general and kids and I thought, well, Im not reallyyyyyyyyy afraid of dying if this is how it is... its not so bad. Plus its ok I didnt feel like God would hate me for dying, even though I'm always pissing Him off. Its ok, its the weekend, it'll be a quiet day to die.

I kept on thinking I know a few doctors in the States, I should call them up and ask them what's wrong with me, why cant I get up and why am I paralyzed, and then I thought.... wait, its the weekend, Pamela is probably sleeping in Houston now, dont want to wake her up....... and Bobby in Michigan is probably on call so he'd be too busy to respond, maybe I'll just dial 911 instead because its not like they can call 911 in Toronto from America, can you? No, maybe I'll just close my eyes and they wont miss me too much...

And then I realized I had tickets to Sex And the City at the Varsity, and if I die, I will never know if Carrie married Big or not!

I yelled amidst the dry coughs to my brother, to drag me to the walk in clinic, and he rushed me over... where I waited for another hour. My tingles returned, I couldnt breathe, my head was ready to explode, I could feel my mouth dry up, I walked up from the waiting room, past all the nurses and doctors, struggled to find the washroom. It said, knock, so I knocked. Nobody answered. So I turned on the knob, and its locked. Noooooooo, I was about to collapse because I knew I was going to give birth to vomit, and then some lady saw me and ran to open the door, and I went to the sink, then teetered to the toilet, and just threw up the inch of banana I had an hour before. I had tears streaming down my face, my stomach convulsing, my face beetroot red.

Then I heard the voice that gave me new life... the voice of a kindly Filippino nurse as she massaged my back and stomach and held my hair and handed me a glass of water to rinse my mouth, and then she asked me in the most kindest, gentlest words:

"Sometimes you just need to throw up, how long have you been throwing up like this? When did you have your last period"

WHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

If I could laugh amidst my tears and diarrhea and dehydration and coughing fits, trust me I would have.

I am NOT pregnant!!!!!!!! Where's the goddamn fake cubic zirconia engagement ring when you needed it?!

I went back to the waiting room, after promising myself to donate a lump sum of my new salary to the World Phillipines Nurses Association and their cute accents, and sat for another half an hour until I was seized yet again by a massive monster called SuperDryCoughOfTheUniverse, and ran out of the clinic, coughing and coughing till my chest and lungs gave out. I finally started bawling for my mom until this lady came up to me and asked me if I was alright, and of course I was NOT alright, so I nodded...yes I was. She went, you have the flu? yeah, me too, go to EMERGENCY, ok, go to the hospital... all this while I was waiting outside the walk-in clinic with tears of cough streaming down my face waiting for my turn.

Y'all know my hate-hate relationship with Canadian EMERGENCY so I wont even go there.

I called my desiFEST girl Tas, and left a hoarse VM about how there was no way I'd be able to show up for desifest or the movie, and when I hung up, I realized Carrie and Big and my sexy shoes that I was going to wear to the movie would just have to wait another day.

They finally called me in..
Of course I looked like crud by then.
Of course, the Dr who looked at me was a HOT BROWN DOCTOR.

Just my luck. Diagnosis: bad cold. Prescription: lots of rest and Robitussin. My dehydration was gone by then so he thought I was more delusional than I looked. Damn.

I'm grateful though, my brother fed me all week and weekend. 
I love Drs again. Well, only the brown ones. And nurses. Well, only the Filipino ones.
And in the last week of being sick, I just got back to my ideal body weight.

Shit. I need to get sick more often!

Sometimes you just need a shot of insanity to get back to reality.

A HAPPY POST

Had to put that title... I'm not sinking into an abyss of depression, just to clear the air. I mean, hating the world does not mean that I hate myself or anything stupid like that. I love me. I'm so hot. Maybe if I say it enough times, I shall believe it!

Today, like a cruel sledgehammer that is my karma, I came across a random someone who LOVES clubs.

The last post (Bitch Revolution part 2) happened because I CANNOT stand clubs.

First of all, like I need someone. I don't need someone or anyone anymore, at all. So buzz off! End of discussion. I am quite content with my fat cat for company, thank you very much. I am looking towards a solitaire life with a few more of those during my octogenerian years. Travel a few times a year. Buy a boat or something. Be a bohemian like Matthew McConaughey. Get a girl pregnant and put on your website that you are going to make a baby by the love of God. Plus at least your cat is ok with you being 'clingy' hahahaha.

I would  rather be in a fish market than be in a club. I don't get it. If you're like 30 (like Mr ClubLovah), shouldn't you be like taking your blood pressure pills and combing your hair from back to front? Shouldn't that process take a whole Saturday night?

Clubs are so fake. So superficial.
1. Everybody looks good when the lights are all pink or blue or other random color. But when you see them in real life lighting... ewwwwwwwwww, barf.
2. Dumb ho's and dumb ox'es - 'nuf said.
3. $$$ - this wouldnt be so bad if I had some of that.
4.There are no trampolines in a club. They should get those.
6. Lack of hot dog vendors or ice cream booth
7. Pretending to have fun when you just want to sleep
8. Porn star clothes. That is just sad.

But I guess they're good for one thing - you get to see how much infidelity, or lack of it, that you will likely encounter with said person when he/she's eyes will hover around at all the clubbers.

So Mr ClubLovah asked me out for the weekend.. I said I'll think about it.

But since we are in my new improved phase, I'm going to say I'm washing my hair.

If I was my own mother, I'd spew out tears of joy at my own protege.

R(E)volution of a Bitch - 3

The other day, I went grocery shopping (since a girl cannot live on pineapples and chocolates alone).

I was putting away my groceries in the trunk. The grocery cart was almost empty. I could hear this Indian family in the background, nattering away in Southie. They pass by me.. then they stop.

The matriarch goes, "Veel you want this?", while pointing to the cart.

She looks like a fragile little lady... surrounded by her clan of 4 little grandchildren, a son resembling an ox and his tiny little wife.

Old nice dumb Isheeta response: No, no, not at all, I'm done my shopping, take it why don't you? Oh the quarter, you don't have any? Thats ok, its just change, dont need it. The wheels are a bit shifty, you gotta turn it like.. so, yeah.. there you go! *giggles giggles* No no, no need to thank me, its just a cart, not the Queen's carriage. Oh you're going to take this trolley home because you guys dont have a car in this weather? Well, I'm almost done with my shopping, why don't I just drop you off after I accompany you with your grocery... you know what? Why don't you just take my car keys while you're at it and drive away with my groceries and yours? Yeah! Long live humanity!

New bitchy improved Isheeta: So, where's my quarter lady??? Pronto, chop chop!

Baby steps, my pretties, baby steps, the ice queen cometh.

R(E)volution of a Bitch - 2

Do y'all remember Red Bull?

The only guy who actually delivered eons ago, only to dump me by stealing MY excuse (i.e. the religion card)?

Red Bull and I have ... been friends since. On and off. On and Off. Like Paris Hilton's legs.

You know how some people become.. *gasp* fuck/bed buddies?

Yeah, gross. Not me.

So we have been strictly friends. He's been trying to get me for a while since.. some years are better than others. I always laugh it off. It's become a running joke.  I know he means it.. I mean, he's a guy and all.  What guy wouldn't go for a freebie? He's got nothing to lose. Stupid.

So yesterday, I did the unthinkable. I stiffed him.

I can't give you details. But I guess if I had to describe in .. many words.. you could say, it was:

humiliating
embarassing
expensive
hurtful
inconsiderate

to him. By me.

What I did last night.. after he was so nice to me all these years.. I wouldn't even wish to a first wife being cheated on by her husband for a young spring chicken.

Today, he deleted me off facebook.

*GASP* DING DING DING DING DING!!!!!!!!!!

I know, if youre a facebookie, you know IT MEANS BUSINESS!!!

A part of me feels awful. He has been nothing but kind to me, in all other aspects. To this day, he always pays for everything, he is always very gentle, he is still thoughtful to me.. about me. Except the part where he is self-obsessed.

A little technical difficulty there, but whatever, he is only human.

Another part of me feels....  like it was just desserts.  What part of "no" is so difficult to understand these days? What part of "we're over" needs to be translated from Swahili to English? What part of "I CANNOT BE WITH YOU, ISHEETA, BUT I WANT TO GO TO BED WITH YOU?" is so normal? How many times do you want to take my heart and rip it up to shreds for the vultures to scavenge on? How many times do I have to want to shoot myself when I turn to you for advice only to realize that you think this is an opportunity for you to get some wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am? What will it take for you to realize that if I spend my time with you, it is time wasted that I can look for someone else?

I dunno if it is the PMS in me...... or if I'm taking this being a bitch revolution a little too seriously.. but when I went to that rocking party last night.. and faced with the prospect of making small talk with random strangers for 'networking/getting to know someone', I just couldn't be bothered.

WHY should I go out of my way to make small talk with these losers who I have no interest in? WHY should I put myself out there and be in my best behaviour for others who won't remember me past their 2nd drink? WHY should I care about these yuppie generation people who have more baggage than Air Canada's Lost Baggage Department? WHY should I care what they do for a living, if their idea of a living constitutes of wanting to save the world/making contacts for the future/getting numbers/making new facebook friends? WHY should I care that they know Lenny Kravitz? How is Leny Kravitz going to contribute to MY future? WHY should I look like I have won the lottery when all I want to do is take off my heels and curl up to the sofa and watch something romantic like Reservoir Dogs? WHY should I pretend to be interested in their love lives, or lack thereof? WHY should I meet them for coffee when my first instinct would be to throw a steaming cup of one at them?

WHY should I pretend to be so goddamned nice to the world, when I am completely and hopelessly disillusioned by it?

R(E)volution of a bitch - 1

Since it has been established time and time again that I'm getting kicked to the curb way too many times because...lets face it.. I lack the wily charms of manipulative women and thus am being shatted on left, right and centre, I have decided that.. it is time, indeed, to become a bitch.

I was advised that I can be bitchy without being a bitch.

Not possible.. I think being a Libra this means a delicate balancing will be involved.. of which I am no good at... so the best thing for now, is to go all the way.

So I took my laptop to school today. My wireless isn't working. So I go to reception and tell the secretary if she can flag down this tech guy to help me out at it.

She pings him. She asks him, "Can you help a student with her wireless on her own personal laptop?"

The guy at the other end of the line (who is a nice guy that I have spoken to before) says he doesn't have the time.

The secretary hangs up the phone, and with a smug look on her face, looks up to me like she has won the BitchFest of the Year award, and tells me, "No, he won't be able to help you out with your wireless."

I go, "huh?"

LadyBitch looks at me like I am the spawn of Satan, shakes her head sideways, and with clipped tones that would have given Mrs Havisham a run for her money, goes, "He can't help you out. It is our policy that we only help OUR college computers, not student computers. Nope. Can't help you."

Did I mention that this she-devil has had it for me since I started school?

Once she was invigilating one of my exams. My pen ran out of ink. Mrs Dillhole was doing a crossword puzzle. So I ask her if she can spare a pen. She looks at me like I am asking her for her kidneys and rolls her eyes. She did not find a pen for me nor even make the effort. I wrote my exam in blood.

(kidding.. with my colleagues' pen).

Recently she handed me my tuition tax receipt.. with the wrong address. I told her that I do NOT live in the suburbs of Brampton. She claims that is what she has on file. I tell her that well that is a mistake because I don't recall setting buying a house in Brampton and commuting for 2 hours just to get a wrong tax receipt. With obvious frustration, she takes my driver's license and my address. When I go to her later to collect it, she practically throws the receipt at me.

This has happened every time I ask her for my tuition receipt. "Can I have a receipt please?" "End of the day." I have yet to see a single receipt.

By this time, I'm thinking I have had enough of men and women of this world - so I tell her, well, I NEED help.

Her response: "My computer is working."

I hold my tongue. SO WHAT? MINE ISN'T! YOURE A GODDAMN SECRETARY. It is your job to look at administrative matters. I am sorry to announce that that is all you will amount to be, since playing SOLITAIRE on the computer all day long doesn't require a functional brain nor an internet connection. Secondly, would it kill you to talk with some civility to a person and not like I stole her collection of lard?! It is not my fault that you have collected copius amount of cellulite by sitting on your ass all day reading trashy gossip columns and thirdly, YOU DO NOT HAVE A 20% project due tomorrow, I DO, so GET ME A TECH SUPPORT NOW BECAUSE MY 20K a year IS paying for your damned tech support and unless he is being run over by truck the size of your fat face, tell him to get his butt over here and help me!

Of course I didn't say any of this out loud. I've got more class.

I know she keeps her food in the fridge.

I just spat in it instead.

Being a bitch ain't so bad.