Friday 29 June 2012

Stop Telling Me What I Feel

I’m so sick of people telling me what I feel, between being told what I feel in matters of the heart and now what I feel physically; I’m about to snap and it’s not going to be pretty.

I’m a blogger and I ask for feedback and I love getting it but sometimes it lands in my inbox at precisely the wrong second and that’s what happened this time.

Jimmy over at Personal Facts, sent me a comment and it had some points and I can see where he’s coming from but because of something totally unrelated I beyond lost my cool. And found myself screaming...

“Will people stop telling how I fucking feel, they’re my feelings. I think if anyone should know how I’m feeling it’s me!”

 I flipped out like a small child and it had next to nothing to do with Jimmy and everything to go with physio #4.

I had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting physio #4 Tuesday morning and let’s just say I should really call her psycho not physio.

I was referred to her by physio #3 because his factuality only does evaluations. I saw him over 4 weeks and over that time he sorted out a treatment plan and he seemed to really understand what was happening with my back.

Then I meet with physio #4 and well she didn’t. Instead of doing the normal first time visit stuff she seemed to already have her mind made up on what she was going to do and it wasn’t the plan #3 had laid out. 

She basically said I was fine and it’s all my head, so instead of doing what #3 said, she wanted me to come in 3 days a week and work with the occupational therapy team to build my strength back up.

Needless to say I wasn’t impressed. I understand that pain can be partly metal but there is no way the amount of pain I’m in is in my head. There are days I’m in so much pain I physically throw up, that isn’t in my head. Plus I wouldn’t put myself through the pills and side effects. Hell I’m scared of hospitals I wouldn’t even go to the appointments if I didn’t think it would help.

The biggest proof that #4 is just an idiot is the fact #2 and #3 both said there is something not right with my back. They could feel something was off; they just couldn’t work out what it was. #3 actually used the words “it’s not in your head, something isn’t quite right.” The only reason #2 passed me on was because he wanted to rule out spinal problems because he noticed my spine was a little on the straight side. All things #4 would have worked out for herself is she had bothered to lay a hand on me.

Everything she said was so out of line with what pain management, spinal, #2, #3 and even what my GP has said. I was furious. Who the hell is she to tell me what I feel? It’s my fucking body; I know when something isn’t right. Don’t sit there and tell me I’m crazy, when you’re the one whose opinions don’t line up.

The whole thing had me stressed out because clearly I’m not going to be seeing her again, so I’m a person in pain without a plan or any idea what to do next. I have to give some love to NTB I was stressed for days and he sent me a short message and my tears stopped and I wasn’t nearly as stressed anymore. He’s such a star.

As you can imagine after dealing with #4 telling me I was crazy and that despite being in pain I wasn’t actually in any, Jimmy telling me how I felt about dipshit was; not so much the straw but more like the feather that broke the camel’s back. And I had a wee melt down and put a pretty hole in my door with my now very sore foot.

I’m not sure I was justified but it made me feel much better. We all have those moments we’re not proud of but damn they felt good at the time. The hole in my door was definitely on of those.

What temper tantrum moments have you had, that may have been silly in hindsight but at the time felt heavenly? Let me know in the comment box below (and I promise no melt downs when I read them this time).

I’m just trying to putting the whole thing out of my mind and am focusing on the countdown to Canada Day. I’m so excited just hope the weather and my back cooperates. Anyways as always my dears stay safe.

Love,

The Hones Bitch
xoxoxo

Monday 25 June 2012

Unwanted Dream Guest

The past few nights I’ve been having dreams about someone I haven’t thought about in over a month. I haven’t even accidently called out his name while rabbiting. So him showing up in my dreams was an unwanted surprise, and hopefully by me writing about it these dreams will stop and I can go back to my normal dreams about a very naked Dwayne Johnson.

So the first dream was very short but enough to shake me up and confuse me a little. It goes like this....


I heard a knock at my door so I answered it and there stood Mr. X, I give him a look well known as the “what the hell are you doing here”. He says “I’ve been thinking about everything and we should stop messing about and just become the good friend we’re destined to be.”


At that point I woke up as if a clown was trying to kill me. The whole thing left me a  little confused. We haven’t spoken, I haven’t Facebook or Twitter stalked him, I had truly moved on. Just when I thought I was safe.... bang there he is. I put the mishap out of my mind and went back to sleep.


The next night I was struggling with wisdom tooth pain so took some painkillers and passed out.


That night I had dream that creeped me out and frankly pissed me off.

I was sleeping in my bed and Mr. X enters my room through a window, he lays down next to me and strokes my head and gives it a little kiss. Then when I start to stir he disappears like a ghost.

At which I woke up and throw my pillow across the room. I was pissed. Not a little “the Leafs missed the playoffs again” pissed I was “you’re making me leave Canada a year before I graduate with my class, so can fuck some guy” pissed.

I was mad that he showed up in my dreams, I was mad that my brain let him in. I was mad that he wasn’t acting like himself in my dreams, I was mad at how creepy he was, I was just mad. And in case there are any men reading this, yes women can get mad at you for what you did in their dreams, we’re women we can get mad about anything.

I have no idea what these dreams mean; I just hope writing about them will put an end to it and gives me back my clothing optional Dwayne Johnson dreams (and yes I did just put that line in so I could add another picture of him). If not I may just have to give up sleeping altogether. So help me feel a little better, have you guys ever had any unwanted visitors in your dreams? And what do you think my dreams mean? Let me know in the comment box below.

As always stay safe, Love,

The Honest Bitch  
xoxoxo

Saturday 23 June 2012

Men Are Idiots

The girls and I have a little drinking game called, well it’s been called many things over the years but for the sake of this blog we’ll call it “men are idiots”, we like to play. How it works is we take turns saying sometime we’ve gotten in trouble for in the past and if you haven’t gotten in trouble for the same thing you drink.

Since this is the internet and virtual beer isn’t as much fun I thought I’d change it up a little so we can play together. I’ll list some of the things the girls and I have gotten in trouble for, if you've gotten in trouble for it too let me know in the comment box and while you’re at it let me know how much trouble you got in on a scale of 0 – 10 and if you haven’t gotten in trouble for it let me know how much trouble you think someone should get in for it.

Now you know how it works let start

1. Shared a bed, fully dressed, with two friends, a boy and girl.

2. Took a call from a guy in the middle of the night (the guy was gay just for the record).

3. Came home (sober) at 6am. 

4. Forgot to leave a key for him.

5. Was admitted in to hospital sick and missed his work’s Christmas party.

6. Got drunk and kissed a female friend.

7. Took his car to get it washed before he left on a work trip.

8. Worked overtime and didn’t call him to let him know I’d be late.

9. Touched a friend new fake boob.

10. Wouldn’t get out of bed in the middle of the night to pick him and his friends up from a club.

The above list are all things at have actually started a fight for me or a friend. Some maybe justified others like the name says “men are idiots”. What random things have gotten you in trouble? Let me know in the comment box below.  

As always stay safe and don’t cause stupid fights, Love,

The Honest Bitch
xoxoxo

P.S My friend just launched a new website called Cheaper Than A Shrink full of all sorts of gadgets and wonderful things so head over there and have a look. 

Thursday 21 June 2012

Talent Isn't Genetic

I’m walking, talking living proof that talent isn’t genetic. My mom is a very talented baker and cake decorator and while I may be a pretty good baker the decorating gene clearly skipped generation with me.

It was my mom’s birthday this past week and we have a tradition in our household that the birthday person gets to pick what they want for dinner and what kind of cake they want. My mom made the decision this year she wasn’t going to make her own cake. And basically told me I was doing it if I liked it or not.

Making the cake itself wasn’t a problem for me. Baking is science and if you can follow a recipe you can’t screw it up. The problem was I knew I had to decorate it and that really isn’t my strong suit. I lack patients......and artist ability.  

Plus my mom makes gorgeous cakes. I’ll include a picture of a wedding cake she made for a friend a few months ago. And keep in mind she hates doing wedding cakes it’s by far the weakest cakes she makes. If that’s her weakness you can imagine how screwed I was.

My brain was spinning for a week trying to think of something I could do that wouldn’t look like it was made by a 3 year old. I was brain storming ideas of things my mom likes and at the top of the list was painting. The house is full of things she’s painted. I knew straight off the bat I couldn’t do that in cake form but it got me thinking. Luckily what I lack in artist skill I make up for in lateral thinking. So my brain went from actual paintings to equipment they use; splats on an artist pallet was my first thought, then my brain went from splats to abstract art. For a person who lacks artist skill abstract art is good place to be and then it hit me, my favourite artist Jackson Pollock.

If there’s one artist whose work I could do some form of justice to it’s his. Not to mention the idea instantly made me laugh which is always a sign something is going to be a lot of fun. So I went with it. I put a layer of white buttercream on the cake, made up some different coloured glaze icings and started fling them at the cake. I can’t begin to tell you how much fun it was, I was just giggling like a school girl the whole time. Even while I was cleaning the huge mess I made I was still laughing especially went I noticed the blue icing on the ceiling. I even managed to get some on the back of the shirt I was wearing. That’s kind of impressive is truly messed up sort of way.

The cake itself looked fun and most importantly everyone who saw it smiled....ok they burst out laughing but you can’t laugh while frowning. That cake got more laughs then most clowns; I don’t blame them one little bit, even I couldn’t keep a straight face looking at it.

My mom loved it; she said it looked and tasted great although she did say it was a little more Jackson Pollock’s drop cloth then his artwork but who cares it was definitely memorable and more fun than anyone should really have in a kitchen.

So tell me, what’s your favourite birthday cake and while you’re at it, what’s your favourite kitchen memory? Let me know in the comment box below.

As always my dears stay and play safe, Love,

The Honest Bitch 
xoxoxo

Sunday 17 June 2012

Cheap Shot

In my last blog I spoke about how my friend got dumped and how I was trying to help her through it. I got a little bit of stick over us poking fun at his poker. Some people felt it was a “cheap shot” and something women always turn to.

First of all you make it sound like women are the only ones who take cheap shots. I’ve seen men call a size 2 girls fat so get off your high horse. We all do it and we all know what buttons to press.

Secondly it wasn’t really a cheap shot. It wasn't like she was in bed with him and asked “are you done yet, so I can finish myself off?” She was pissed off that he was jerk and broke up with her via email and need to vent. That’s perfectly fine by me, it's not like she called him out on it. The email breakup was the cheap shot in my books.

Also from my personal experience women whether they’re mad or not, will not make fun of a guys junk if he knows how to use it. I’m not going to sit here and say size doesn’t matter, because I’d be lying. There is such a thing as too small and even too big but on the whole knowing how to use it is most important.

So you’ve now heard my sleep deprived rant but what do you think, was it a cheap shot or was she justified? And while I’m asking questions does size matter? Let me know in the comment box below.

As always my dears stay and play safe, Love,


The Honest Bitch
xoxoxo

Wednesday 13 June 2012

Helping A Friend Through A Breakup

It’s been a long couple of days, one of my dear friends got dumped by a jerk and since my speciality is breakups, I’ve been at her 24 hour beck and call. Which means lots of late nights and a few makeup strained shoulders (anyone know how to get mascara out of a white shirt?).

Honestly I don’t really mind, although the first 24 hours after a breakup suck even for me. You can’t really do anything to help during that period. You just have to sit there and listen. And maybe throw out the odd “it’s going to be ok”. You can’t say anything else because they don’t want to hear it and it almost sounds a little forced. You just have to let them cry it out no matter how tough it is to watch.

When it comes to breakups I follow the saying “cry a river, build a bridge and get over it”. But unfortunately step 1 is crying the river.

Depending on how long they dated normally after 24 hours they’re ready for some humour based bad mouthing. You can’t be too mean at this point or they’ll burst into tears and say “but I love him” and nobody wants to see that mess (trust me). But if you can get them laughing 99% of time you’re golden.

With my friend the line that worked was “look on the bright side at least now you don’t have to shave his bear skin rug like back.” It was true and got a snotty laugh, gross but a good sign.

After humour bad mouthing comes my favourite part, junk and bitching. Admittedly I feel sick today after the pizza, ice cream and chocolate last night (please note no alcohol, that’s very important. NEVER give a dumpee booze) but she’s feeling better and that’s what matters. We spent the evening plotting revenge and discussing his small penis, lack of manners and how he laughs like a “brain dead hyena”.

While I’m home today recovering from last night’s junk fest she’s out with some of the other girls getting her hair and nails done. Once you stop the crying phase it’s important to look good. It makes you feel better and let’s face it, if you run into your ex there is no better revenge then looking hot (unless you're in your car when you run into him). Hell even if his friends see you they’ll report back to him so looking good is a must.

Normally after a week or so my friends are pretty much back to their normal selves. They might still have the odd tear and shouldn’t be drinking and left alone with their phone but on the whole there pretty stable at that point and the amount of calls I get reduces drastically.

I’m not sure how I ended up in this role but when my friends are crying they always ask for me. I don’t really understand it but my best guess is it’s because I don’t fed them lies, I don’t say they’ll get back together, I just listen and once they’re ready, joke with them. I mean I can’t fix it so all I can do is try to lighten things up and occasionally threaten an ex or two.

So that’s how I handle my friends when they’re going through a breakup but what do you do? Let me know in the comment box below.

As always my dears stay and play safe, Love,

The Honest Bitch 
xoxoxo

Sunday 10 June 2012

Too Much Truth

A few nights ago the girls and I got together for a gossip session and during our chat they decided it was time for me to start dating again and I actually agree with them for a change. I’ve been single for a record amount of time and I’m ready to start looking again.

However we didn’t agree on everything. We were split on whether or not I should tell prospective boyfriends I’m a blogger or not.

Obviously If I found myself in a serious relationship I would tell him. That’s not the question. Everyone I blog about regularly knows; Evil Monkey, NTB, Mr. X they all know and even read my blog.

The question is at what point do I have to tell them?

If I wait too long to tell someone it sets a bad tone for the relationship. It comes off like I wasn’t being forthcoming. To combat that problem some of the girl suggested I tell the guy from the start I’m a blogger but don’t give him my URL. I’m not really sure that makes it any better. That’s still not being very forthcoming.

One of the girls said it’s best not to say anything at all. And I see where she’s coming from but if a guy comes across it on his own, things are going to get messy fast. So I’m not sure how smart that idea is.

The rest of the girls said I should just tell any guy I meet straight up from the start. That has one big flaw in my book. Can you really get to know someone if they’re always in the back of their mind, wondering what you’re going to write about them? I honestly don’t know if that’s possible.

People worry about their image and if they know you’re likely to post something, good or bad, be it now or 5 years down the line, they may not be so willing to let their walls down and show the real them.

Because I write a mix of current life and past relationships it’s hard for anyone to know what may find its way into my blog and when. I use this method because I like to leave a gap between a breakup and me insulting them. I find the longer I wait the less they care what I write. But I could see that being a problem for a new boyfriend. Nobody likes hearing about their girlfriend’s exes and then you have the problem that if I don’t write about him, he's wondering if he’s not special enough to be written about.

It’s a strange position to be in and the whole thing hurts my head. So what do you guys think? Should I tell a prospective boyfriend I’m blogger and if so when? Let me know in the comment box below.

As always my dears stay safe, Love,

The Honest Bitch
xoxoxo