Seriously Y'all

I've moved.

bitterwithbaggage.typepad.com

I've Moved. Now Get Your Ass Over There!

Hey people, I moved. Follow me already! And tell everyone you know. And link me. Please.

A Change Will Do Me Good

I've decided on a change and this time I'm gonna stick with it. So update the link love bitches.

Interactive Lola Version Four

Alfred's Mom


Does Lola really exist? Is there a shy inexperienced lonely girl sitting in front of a computer screen trying to find herself? Is she really so bold in real life? Is she really without a partner or does she have one that ignores her? Is she old? Is she young? Does it matter?

I'd like to think that Lola is real. A woman who is very timid about starting a relationship. Maybe all talk. Maybe she has met the right person but isn't willing to dive into a big life change. A woman who values her close friends as if they were made of gold. Lola is full of wit and creativity. A woman who thinks about the past more than the future. Maybe there are answers in the past to help with the future, but maybe always looking back means missing opportunities right in front of you.

I think I would love to hang out with Lola. Go to a bar and hit on guys together. String them along without any intentions. Flirt our way through several free drinks. Flaunt our sexuality, maybe dance on the bar.

Sure its fun to go out and flirt. But its also fun to take it seriously. Live life Lola.You are a strong funny woman who is full of sexuality. Step out and open up.

Interactive Lola Version Three

New York Moments:

I think you're a fun person, just trying to make it through life like the rest of us. And I say, who cares what anyone else thinks, it's your opinion that counts!

Interactive Lola Version Two

Jen In Door County:

My impression of Miss Lola is that she a modern woman in the south (for a northerner that means women usually have not such a forthright role or personality--my ignorance perhaps) battling the normal things that women battle: Inner whatzits, the quest for true love (which to me equates incomparable companionship and
understanding/acceptance, a partner to help each other get through this shit we call life), and maybe some old fashioned crap that was pounded into her head as a youth.

I like her ballsy nature in that she speaks her mind and takes no shit. And coupled with the physical description of her, I'm sure she has been called a 'spitfire' more than once in her life.
AND, since I have seen the picture that was posted that night of drunken cyber clicking, I'm sure she also slays some people with her upfrontery about sex and whatnot. Not to say that she's innocent looking, but she has a wholesome-ish 'good girl' look to her. To hear her say: 'Fuck you, no ass sex' girl would make me piss my pants laughing--at the reaction of the immediate audience, that is.

I think Miss Lola is a decent person, with rapier honesty that is rare nowadays. Let me interject a bit about me here: I am not a fan of chicks. Most women that I have met in my travels and those in my family are not sterling examples of the fairer sex. So I tend to be pickier and hella judgmental about them as a whole, and individually. That said, the fact that I come back every day to see what's up and what's the deal, and actually comment, means that I view Miss Lola and her internet persona as a decent chick. I guess I'm trying to say that I'm no philistine and if I like a female, it's a big deal in my book. Ok enough of that.

I think she will eventually find the man that deserves her, but it isn't going to be in a bar. That horse hockey about unsuspecting places and times is very true. When she's depressed or sad, she should stay away from the booze, it only exacerbates the problem(s). I also think that if she considers you a friend, that you have a good one on your side.

Interactive Lola Version One

Me: I had a hard time describing myself. Really hard.

Lawyer Type: Now everyone's conception of "Lola" is being rejiggered ever so slightly, but despite what you've said, everyone is still seeing the "Lola" of their mind's eye, not the person you look at in the mirror.

Me: I'd be interested to know what the "Lola" of their mind's eye looked like. Damn I should have made a post asking for that before I posted my description.

Lawyer Type: Put my theory to a test. Ask people to shoot you an e-mail about what they "see," when they think of "Lola," and swear them to honesty.

So an idea was born. I emailed a few people who were in my Gmail address book and asked them to honestly tell me what their perception or description of me is. I asked for what they saw or felt when they thought of Lola. I wasn't trying to be narcissistic or fish for compliments. I am genuinely curious about what y'all think. Each day or so I'll post the replies. If I didn't email you and you want to weigh in then feel free to email me.

*****

TMC: Simple. Lola is a fuck salad.

I expressed to TMC that he was just recycling. He then sent me a description/perception that was much more to my liking. However, I'm gonna keep that one all to myself.

What I Want To Be When I Grow Up

When I was very little I wanted to be a variety of things. I was going to be a ballerina, a nurse, a fireman, a doctor, a housewife, and President of the United States. Let me be perfectly clear, I was going to be all these things AT ONCE. When I was little nothing seemed impossible. When I was about eight I chucked it all to be a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader. Even then I wanted to be the center of attention. I also wanted great big boobs. Makes ya wonder doesn't it?

As I grew older I sort of settled into the housewife thing. I wanted to be married by the time I was 23. I wanted to have all my kids by the time I was 26 (1 a year starting at 24) and maybe be a school teacher after all my children where past their fifth birthday. Everyone in my family married young. It just seemed the thing to do.

By the time I started college I had decided to be a pediatric psychiatrist. I figured I was crazy so I could recognize other crazy people. Also the thought of helping children really intrigued me. Unfortunately going to school for a thousand years and paying a million dollars to do so didn't much appeal to me. After a few false starts I settled into Early Childhood Development. I planned on teaching kindergarten and raising my own family.

My life didn't turn out how I planned it. I didn't become a ballerina, a nurse, a fireman, a doctor, a housewife, or President of the United States. I didn't become a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader. I did get the boobs though. I didn't get married at 23. I wasn't done having children by the time I turned 26. I don't teach kindergarten. Things didn't turn out the way I planned but I have a wonderful life. I love my job. I help children every single day. I deal with crazies all the time. Maybe someday I'll have the husband and the kids but if not it'll be ok. Sometimes things work out better than you ever could have planned.

When I grow up I want to be exactly what I am right now.



Thanks to Jen in Door County for suggesting this as an entry. Anyone else?

Describing Lola

Me: Of course I could just post a picture.
The Man: Not that men wouldn't swoon, but it would ruin the mystique.






So Free To Be wants to know what I look like. I thought about asking a few of the people who have actually seen me to guest post but that's like fishing for compliments or asking to have your heart ripped out. This is truly hard for me. Sure I can write bitchy stuff about my co-workers. I easily write sad ass shit about The Boy. I'm good at talking about drunken antics. But when it comes to describing myself I'm at a loss.

I'll go with the basics. I'm 5'4ish maybe 5'5". When Free To Be first asked what I look like I had chocolate brown hair. It is now a lovely shade of auburn and goes to the middle of my back. My hair has been brown, red, blonde, black, and pink. I'm pretty sure my natural shade is a reddish color. I have very brown eyes which I used to hate. I have freckles and fair skin except in the summer when I first turn lobster red then a lovely shade of brown. My skin is the softest skin ever. I love it so much I pet myself sometimes. I have a beauty mark above my lip. My smile is my best feature in my humble opinion. I am not skinny. I will never be skinny. I am not obese but I could stand to lose a few pounds. I have big boobs and one of them is bigger than the other. I'd say I'm cute on a good day. I am not a hot girl.

Now let's break it down into things I have heard.

Height:
"Damn you are short."
"How did you get taller than the rest of the women in the family?"
"Aren't you just the cutest little thing." (Said by a guy who was 6'6".)

Hair:
"How many different colors are you gonna try before you stick with one?"
"For fuck's sake grow that shit back out so I can see how shiny it is."
"You hair is so soft." (Said by a girl)

Eyes:
"You can get lost in those eyes."
"Those are the darkest eyes I've ever seen."
"Somehow I think you would look better with green eyes. Ever think of getting contacts?"

Smile:
"You look so much better when you smile."
"You never had to have braces? You suck."
"Nice lips."

Weight:
"You are soft in all the right places."
"I like my girls a little bit skinnier. No offense."

Boobs:
"Nice rack."
"You could be a stripper with those babies."
"I'm not a fan of big ta-tas. More than a mouthful is just wasteful."

If any of you who have actually seen me have anything to add please feel free to let loose. I won't be posting again for a while because of work. The offer still stands to email me about something you would like to hear about. If not, take care til I return.

Work Is Kicking My Ass

The next week or two is gonna kick my ass because of work. Plus any free time I have will be spent voting for the ManWhore. I will not have the time or the presence of mind to think up anything original to post here. I'll also be way too insane to pay attention to the usual bullshit that surrounds me. If there is anything you can think of that you would like my take on or you have any questions you would like me to answer, email me at bitterwithbaggage@gmail.com. I will do my best to please you. You want a post then you gotta give me something to write about. If not, I'll post something when things calm down.

UPDATE:
Free To Be your post on what I look like will be up sometime this week. Since no one else emailed me, I guess y'all are on your own til things calm down.

No Wonder I'm Nuts

I'm a little spoiled. OK maybe I'm alot spoiled. I'm used to getting what I want from my family. So recently I've been a little sad because my mommy lives so far away. There are just sometimes in a girl's life when she needs her mom. Right now is that time for me. I've been a little sad and a little confused and I want to be babied. Since I don't have a man to baby me (or at least I don't have one that I want to baby me) a mom is the next best thing.

I called my mom the other night on my way home from work. "I'm sick of you living far away from me. I miss you." Funny thing, she was feeling the exact same way. She says, "Let's go to Argentina." I explain to her there is no way I can just up and go to Argentina. I have work. I have people depending on me. I just can't fly off to Argentina. And yes, I know it's crazy to turn down a trip to Argentina but it's also crazy for her to think I can just pick up and fly off somewhere.

Let me give you a little back story here. Recently a distant relative that is about my age died suddenly. Since then my mom has been a bit of a freak about my going to the doctor to get a full check up. She has really been on me to go to the girl doctor also. I hate the girl doctor. Absofuckinglutely hate it. She also wants me to have a mammogram. A friend of mine was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. My mom has decided I need every part of my body checked out. She has bugged me about this relentlessly for two weeks.

So today I'm in the grocery store and the cell rings. It's my mommy. We talk about work, that certain boy, the blog that she vaguely knows about but is not allowed to read, and the fact that I want her to come home. My mom asks if I have made a doctor's appointment. I tell her I have not. The conversation goes like this:

"When you make a doctor's appointment, I will come with you."

"I'm perfectly capable of going to the girl doctor by myself."

"Obviously you aren't since you won't even make an appointment."

"Fine I'll make the appointment."

"Call me back when you have the date and time of the appointment."

"Why?"

"So I can make plane reservations."

"What the hell? Are you planning on being in on the examination? Mom, you do not have to come to the girl doctor with me. I've been plenty of times by myself."

"I know I don't have to come with you. Here's the deal...You want to see me then you make a doctor's appointment."

"You aren't going to come visit me if I don't go to the doctor?"

"Right. You want something. I want something. I figure this is the only way we can both get what we want."

"But Mom I just really need to see you. Now. You know how long it takes to get a girl doctor appointment. Just come here."

"Lola, make the appointment. I'm not coming there till I know the day and the time of the appointment."

"Fine."

"But don't make the appointment for the second week in August because I'm going to Argentina."

Whose mom bribes them into going to the doctor? What kind of person needs to be blackmailed into going to the doctor? Yes I know I should just go to the doctor without anyone telling me I have to. But I don't want to. I really, really don't want to. But the bitch has called my bluff. She knew exactly what to do to make me go. Fuck! Guess I'm going to the doctor. But not during the second week in August.

Say My Name

You want to melt my heart? Say my name.

It seems silly doesn't it? People say my name everyday. I hear my name said hundreds of times a day. Especially with the kids. "Miss Lola. Miss Lola. Miss Lola. MISS LOLA!!!!" You would think I would get sick of hearing my name. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I pretend it's not my name. Or I tell the kids I will not answer them if they say my name one more time.

Except when the elusive "He" says it. Do you know what I mean? A boy can call me sweetheart or honey and I might find it endearing but if he says my name, I melt. It becomes something intimate to me. I love the sound of my name coming out of man's mouth.

I wish I could explain it better. Often people use other people's names to get a point across. In anger..."God Lola you are such a bitch." In sorrow..."I cannot believe you did this to me Brian." In sarcastic fun... "Mary you are such a dumbass." During sex... "Brandon..." I'm talking about when a boy I like uses my name for no real reason... "How was your day Lola?" or "Lola, listen to this song. I really think you'll love it."

Say my name. Please. Make my heart melt.

Vote My Bitter Little Bitches

The ManWhore wants to be the Cosmo Media Man for 2005. Even though he doesn't seem to love me anymore; he is pretty damn hot for a fucking Republican. I think he deserves to win. Get me back in his good graces and please go vote for him.


Y'all it's not like I'm asking you to vote for him for fucking President! It's a magazine contest for Christ's sake.

It All Comes Down To What You Want To Do

Recently I was having an email exchange with a friend. We were discussing if I should attempt to write a book or not. He said, "It all comes down to what you want to do." I responded with, "What I want to do is get married and do nothing but write and maybe drink and turn into the cliche alcoholic suburban wife."

I meant this as a joke but the more I thought about it the more I thought maybe I was serious. Maybe I do want to write. Maybe I do want to get married. Maybe I do want to live in the suburbs with the dog, the 2.5 kids, the white picket fence, and the pool. I definitely want to become best friends with the local wine merchant.

Actually there is some seriousness to this. Fear of failure keeps me from writing a book. And please do not tell me how witty I am and how I have to write a book. I'm not writing about this so all of you can build me up and tell me how great I am. All of you wonderful people build me up on a daily basis just by showing up to read the bullshit I spew forth. And don't get me wrong...I'm happy each and everyone of you show up each day. I have thought about writing a book several times. The problem is I do not like to fail. Funny I have so many failed relationships then huh?

I do want to get married. I do want a dog. A greyhound to be precise. Or a weimaraner. I'm not so sure about the 2.5 kids. You think I can find a man who will just buy me a kid instead of me actually having to birth one? I really don't want a white picket fence but I do want a pool. Maybe I could compromise, a pool for a kid. Nah, I'm not gonna sell myself for a pool. And I've already made friends with the local wine merchant. The point is I know what I want to do. I'm just not sure I'm brave enough to go for it.

Of course if anyone wants to marry me to allow me to just write and drink then send me an email. We'll negotiate.

What's A Girl Gotta Do...

to get a little male attention around here?

Migraines, Sex Dreams, & Books

I slept on the bathroom floor last night. It's not what you think. I wasn't drunk. I had a migraine. The migraine started Thursday. See, I got a promotion at work but no one took over my job. Since I can't explain what I do let's just say I have a lot of shit on my shoulders now. Someone will eventually take over my job but right now I'm buried.

So Thursday all the stress caught up with me. I dutifully took half of the little pill the doctor promised would make the headaches go away. Three hours later the headache is worse. I took another half of a pill. Then one of the children that I am very close with got hurt and I had to go to the hospital with her. That's stress enough to cause a headache. Then I had to go to JFB's house because I had promised to help with a going away party. By the time I got home all I could do was crawl in bed and cry.

Friday I woke up to a dull ache in my head. Residual headache, a pain the ass but manageable. I haven't been able to lay out properly in about two weeks between work and the fucking rain that has been deluging my town. Yesterday was sunny so after work I went to lay out. Bad idea. Migraine returned one thousand times worse.

I slept in the bathroom for two reasons. First of all, the bathroom is the darkest place in the house. Secondly, I was pretty sure I was going to throw up at some point. I took a migraine pill and a Xanax. I tried to sleep.

I dreamed I was at a book release party for a book I had written. There were elephants and crocodiles as decoration at my party. I left my own party to have sex with a boy who looked like Ryan Reynolds. The boy kept telling me he was bad for me the whole time we were having sex. He also kept telling me he loved my book. The next day I left for Antartica.

I still have a headache and now all I can think about is that weird ass dream.

Actual Conversation Part Two

"So I've been thinking about what you said the other day."

"I knew you were pissed at me."

"I'm not pissed. I just needed a couple of days to let it sink in. Remember, I'm trying not to be the fly off the handle girl anymore."

"I only said it because I care about you and I thought you needed to know the truth."

"Well, hmmmm. I just don't see how bringing that up out of the blue was very caring."

"HE DIDN'T LOVE YOU! YOU NEED TO REALIZE IT!"

"Don't scream at me. I'm trying to have an adult conversation here. I get the part about you believing he didn't love me. Really. I. Get. It. But what the fuck was with that other shit?"

"You should have never ended things with Brandon. He was great for you."

"That relationship ended a few years ago. Why are you bringing it up now?"

"Well I know he is coming in town soon. I just thought maybe you could revolving door him."

"He has a girlfriend AND he lives Chicago."

"But y'all still talk."

"I still talk to a lot of my exes. It doesn't mean I should date them."

"I just think you need to be realistic."

"OK let's be realistic for a minute. You are pissed at me because of what I said about The Pilot. You have been stewing about it for a while. You finally came up with a way to get back at me."

"That's not true. You were trying to be helpful with what you said about The Pilot. I'm was trying to be helpful too."

"I was trying to keep you from catching a disease. You went straight for the jugular with your so called help. I understand the Brian comment. You hate him. You hated us together. You think I'm still waiting on him to come back. I might even understand in a twisted way what you are saying about Brandon. But why did you bring Flower Boy into it? You don't even know him."

Silence

"I'm waiting."

"I want someone to send me flowers."

"God, I cannot believe I'm friends with someone more fucked up than I am."

Fuck It

I hate people. Boys especially. But really everyone.

Actual Conversation

"He never loved you."

"What?"

"He never loved you. Not ever."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Brian never loved you."

"OK. Why are you bringing this up now?"

"I was just thinking about it."

"Hmmmmm. So for no apparent reason, in the middle of the work day, you have decided to tell me he never loved me."

"Well he didn't. I just figured you should know."

"Wow! OK. I think it's a little brutal to just throw that out there in the middle of the day with no advanced warning."

"Well you did say you almost emailed him after Saturday night."

"True. But I told you that Sunday. It's Tuesday, in case you haven't looked at a calendar."

"I know it's Tuesday. I just figured you should know he never loved you."

"Thanks. I guess. Anything else?"

"Yeah. You know Flower Boy?"

"Yeah?"

"One shot deal."

"You have a serious case of hate going for me right now don't you?"

"No. I'm just being realistic with you."

"So in the middle of the day, AT WORK, you have decided to be realistic with me without any provocation."

"Yeah. I'm your friend. I'm trying to help."

"This has been SUPER helpful. Any other words of wisdom?"

"You fucked up when you let Brandon move away."

"Fuck! You do hate me. You are such a cunt."

"Hey, don't get pissed at me. I'm trying to help you."

"I can totally see how you would think this might be helpful. I'm going home now to slit my wrists. I'm leaving instructions not to allow you in the funeral."

Drunk Emailing

Saturday night I was drunk enough to have my phone taken away from me. Drunk dialing is my thing. I love to do it. Actually I just love to talk on the phone. I think you can learn a lot about person talking to them on the phone. People share secrets easier when they aren't looking you in the eye.

The Bitch actually confiscated the phone before we ever made it to the concert. In the car she said, "Hand it over bitch." I knew immediately what she wanted. I tried to protest. She said, "Drunkfest 2005!" I handed the phone over. I never want to repeat Drunkfest 2005 ever again. At least not the drunk dialing part. It makes me cringe just to think about it.

In the car on the way home I was composing emails in my head. I was going to write The Boy to tell him how I really feel. I was going to write a former friend to tell him what an asshole I think he is because he stopped speaking to me for no good reason. I was going to write my mother to tell her how much I love her. I was going to write a friend I haven't talked to in a long time to tell her how much I miss her. I was going to write another boy to tell him how I really feel about him - good and bad.

I seriously sat in the car in silence composing these emails in my head. I was excited to write them. The only thing that saved me was I had to post to the blog first. Flirty Boy almost calling me out was too much excitement not to post right away. By the time I finished typing the entry with only one eye open I was just sober enough to realize emailing would be a bad idea. Especially at almost five a.m. in the morning. The emails I was composing in my head were all heartfelt but all would have come back to bite me in the ass. HARD! I fear the computer may be the next thing that needs to be kept from me when I'm drunk.