Want to read about a crazy psycho bitch?
Check out my guest post here: http://therealmeangirl.com/2011/09/09/guest-post-jennifer-fabulous-from-i-know-right/
Friday, September 9, 2011
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Happy Birthday, Jonny!
I was the arts & entertainment editor at the university newspaper when he walked into the newsroom.
"I'm interested in joining the school newspaper and I was told to come here," he said, in a slightly southern drawl. He was 18 and absolutely adorable.
A couple weeks later, he approached me after a staff meeting. He wanted to cover the upcoming Barbra Streisand concert for my section. I was delighted. He also told me he loved my skirts and dresses.
"I work at the Gap, so any time you want to buy something, let me know and I'll use my employee discount," he said.
It was an offering of friendship that sealed the deal on fate.
Jonny and I have been best friends ever since.
And today is his 25th birthday.
I often feel sad that Jonny lives far away now. (Well, four hours away, ha). But, in reality, not everyone is as lucky as me. Not everyone has a best friend who is more than a best friend. He's my family.
He was there for me when my college sweetheart smashed my heart into pieces. He gave me a shoulder to lean on when I plummeted through comical dating disasters. He helped me stalk my current boyfriend. He offered distraction when I hit rock bottom.
I believe he would say the same about me.
Here is a look at me and Jonny throughout the years.
Happy birthday, Bunny! Love, your Jenny Benny. xoxo
"I'm interested in joining the school newspaper and I was told to come here," he said, in a slightly southern drawl. He was 18 and absolutely adorable.
A couple weeks later, he approached me after a staff meeting. He wanted to cover the upcoming Barbra Streisand concert for my section. I was delighted. He also told me he loved my skirts and dresses.
"I work at the Gap, so any time you want to buy something, let me know and I'll use my employee discount," he said.
It was an offering of friendship that sealed the deal on fate.
Jonny and I have been best friends ever since.
And today is his 25th birthday.
I often feel sad that Jonny lives far away now. (Well, four hours away, ha). But, in reality, not everyone is as lucky as me. Not everyone has a best friend who is more than a best friend. He's my family.
He was there for me when my college sweetheart smashed my heart into pieces. He gave me a shoulder to lean on when I plummeted through comical dating disasters. He helped me stalk my current boyfriend. He offered distraction when I hit rock bottom.
I believe he would say the same about me.
Here is a look at me and Jonny throughout the years.
Happy birthday, Bunny! Love, your Jenny Benny. xoxo
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
To outfit or not to outfit?
Some of you (well, a lot of you) may not know this, but two years ago I was a fashion blogger.
Like, I used to do outfit posts and shit.
I was 15 pounds lighter and I could still fit into my clothes. Plus, I had a job, so dressing up was required.
Well, I haven't weighed myself in a while, but my best guess is that I now weigh close to 600 pounds.
I don't do outfit posts anymore because none of my clothes fit me. And I don't have a real job anymore. I actually spend most of my days wallowing around my apartment building in my boyfriend's Raiders t-shirt and old soccer shorts, drinking Diet Coke and scowling at our neighbors.
But I want to do outfit posts again! It recently occurred to me that the reason I loved doing outfit posts so much wasn't because I'm a vain cow, but because it inspired me to be creative with my style. I found myself emulating interesting ideas from other fashion bloggers. I suddenly became more adventurous, more open-minded when it came to dressing up. Dammit, I had fun!
Well, anyway, I decided to share with you a handful of my old outfit photos. I figured it is appropriate timing since IFBCon is in action right now.
My photos are modest. Don't expect anything fancy or sexy like mega fashion blogger, Chrissy.
Here they are:
What do you think?
Like, I used to do outfit posts and shit.
I was 15 pounds lighter and I could still fit into my clothes. Plus, I had a job, so dressing up was required.
Well, I haven't weighed myself in a while, but my best guess is that I now weigh close to 600 pounds.
I don't do outfit posts anymore because none of my clothes fit me. And I don't have a real job anymore. I actually spend most of my days wallowing around my apartment building in my boyfriend's Raiders t-shirt and old soccer shorts, drinking Diet Coke and scowling at our neighbors.
But I want to do outfit posts again! It recently occurred to me that the reason I loved doing outfit posts so much wasn't because I'm a vain cow, but because it inspired me to be creative with my style. I found myself emulating interesting ideas from other fashion bloggers. I suddenly became more adventurous, more open-minded when it came to dressing up. Dammit, I had fun!
Well, anyway, I decided to share with you a handful of my old outfit photos. I figured it is appropriate timing since IFBCon is in action right now.
My photos are modest. Don't expect anything fancy or sexy like mega fashion blogger, Chrissy.
Here they are:
What do you think?
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Creepy Bird Advice
I have this bad habit where I take things too far.
I got this habit from my mother. When she likes something, she becomes obsessed. For instance, she is addicted to dieting and exercise, even though she's 100 pounds. She's addicted to garage sale shopping, even though she can afford new things. She's addicted to 1970s music, even though it's 2011.
Another thing she is obsessed with is birds. I grew up in a household where there were always birds. Parakeets. Canaries. Lovebirds. Finches.
Right now, she has a lovebird named Daisy, pictured below.
When my mom brought Daisy home two years ago, it was apparent that Daisy was a brat. She bit everyone, especially my mom, really hard, drawing blood. It has gotten to the point where we are all terrified of her. It is a far cry from my mom's previous lovebird, Lily, who was gentle and sweet. (May she rest in peace).
Daisy isn't just mean to us. She's mean to everyone!
For example, one evening in 2009, I dropped my mom off at her Birdie & Me meeting and went to the mall. (Birdie & Me is a group of middle-aged women who get together and introduce their birds. It's a place for bird owners to make friends and birds to make friends). I had only been browsing the Forever 21 racks for ten minutes, when I got a phone call from my mom. She was sobbing so hard, I could barely make out what she was saying. I rushed to pick her up and when I got there, she told me the whole story. Apparently Daisy had attacked everyone at the meeting, including their birds. She caused such a ruckus and drew so much blood, the women kicked my mom out of the house! She was devastated.
Well, my mom has been trying to find ways to bond with Daisy ever since that Birdie & Me incident two years ago.
At my parents' house, Daisy's cage is always open. She eats with them at the dinner table, nibbling food off their plates and sipping wine out of their glasses.
But these small privileges have only made Daisy even more spoiled. She still bites. And now she has an attitude, like she thinks she's better than everyone else.
Well, my mom recently sought help on how to deal with her ill-tempered lovebird. The advice she got back was astounding.
She was told, by an expert, that in order to make a real connection with Daisy, she was going to have to pretend to be Daisy's mate. This would mean allowing Daisy to masturbate on her daily.
Needless to say, I was horrified. And then I realized it was time to intervene. I forbid my mother from taking this advice and I quickly deleted the e-mail from her inbox.
Our family is dysfunctional enough, without my mother entering into a sexual relationship with a parrot.
I believe there is a fine line between loving a pet and taking it TOO FAR. If Daisy wants to be a little bitch and bite everyone, well then, that's life. My mom needs to deal with it or find another solution.
Having Daisy masturbate on her every single day merely to earn her respect and love is completely out of the question.
Am I correct here? Letting a bird get off on you is weird, right? Or am I just being prude?
I got this habit from my mother. When she likes something, she becomes obsessed. For instance, she is addicted to dieting and exercise, even though she's 100 pounds. She's addicted to garage sale shopping, even though she can afford new things. She's addicted to 1970s music, even though it's 2011.
Another thing she is obsessed with is birds. I grew up in a household where there were always birds. Parakeets. Canaries. Lovebirds. Finches.
Right now, she has a lovebird named Daisy, pictured below.
When my mom brought Daisy home two years ago, it was apparent that Daisy was a brat. She bit everyone, especially my mom, really hard, drawing blood. It has gotten to the point where we are all terrified of her. It is a far cry from my mom's previous lovebird, Lily, who was gentle and sweet. (May she rest in peace).
Daisy isn't just mean to us. She's mean to everyone!
For example, one evening in 2009, I dropped my mom off at her Birdie & Me meeting and went to the mall. (Birdie & Me is a group of middle-aged women who get together and introduce their birds. It's a place for bird owners to make friends and birds to make friends). I had only been browsing the Forever 21 racks for ten minutes, when I got a phone call from my mom. She was sobbing so hard, I could barely make out what she was saying. I rushed to pick her up and when I got there, she told me the whole story. Apparently Daisy had attacked everyone at the meeting, including their birds. She caused such a ruckus and drew so much blood, the women kicked my mom out of the house! She was devastated.
Well, my mom has been trying to find ways to bond with Daisy ever since that Birdie & Me incident two years ago.
At my parents' house, Daisy's cage is always open. She eats with them at the dinner table, nibbling food off their plates and sipping wine out of their glasses.
But these small privileges have only made Daisy even more spoiled. She still bites. And now she has an attitude, like she thinks she's better than everyone else.
Well, my mom recently sought help on how to deal with her ill-tempered lovebird. The advice she got back was astounding.
She was told, by an expert, that in order to make a real connection with Daisy, she was going to have to pretend to be Daisy's mate. This would mean allowing Daisy to masturbate on her daily.
Needless to say, I was horrified. And then I realized it was time to intervene. I forbid my mother from taking this advice and I quickly deleted the e-mail from her inbox.
Our family is dysfunctional enough, without my mother entering into a sexual relationship with a parrot.
I believe there is a fine line between loving a pet and taking it TOO FAR. If Daisy wants to be a little bitch and bite everyone, well then, that's life. My mom needs to deal with it or find another solution.
Having Daisy masturbate on her every single day merely to earn her respect and love is completely out of the question.
Am I correct here? Letting a bird get off on you is weird, right? Or am I just being prude?
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Award Love
It's blog award time! In other words, this is the post where I remind you all how freaking awesome I am.
Two fabulous bloggers recently gave me two fabulous awards.
I'm not sure what the first one is called, but I'm going to title it the Bad Ass Award because there are two awards combined as one. And that is bad ass.
Thank you, Andrés. (By the way, you should totally check out his blog The Black Label.)
With this award, I need to fill out this form:
Name your favourite color: pink
Name your favourite song: Everyday is Like Sunday, by Morrissey
Name your favorite dessert: tiramisu
What pisses you off: idiots
When you´re upset you: rum & Coke
Black or White: Black because it's more slimming
Your biggest fear: Being alone one day
Best feature: My smile
Everyday attitude: I'll do it tomorrow
What is perfection: Happiness
Guilty pleasure: Ke$ha
This next award is from the beautiful Nina. You can find her blog here.
With this award, I have to list seven random facts about myself.
Here we go:
1. I gave up peanut butter from 1999 to 2010 (due to a food poisoning incident when I was 15). Now that I'm eating it again, I am ADDICTED. I eat it every day!
2. I hate rollercoasters.
3. I've had the same car for eight years.
4. Rabbits are my favorite animal.
5. I went to the Ke$ha concert this weekend and had the greatest time in the entire world. That bitch kicks ass.
6. I look really young, like super young. Everyone I meet is always astonished to find out that I'm older than 18. I'm hoping this will work in my favor 20 years from now.
7. I'm awkward when it comes to dealing with children.
I pass along both of these awards to all my followers.
Oh, and has anyone seen this video yet? I had two friends e-mail it to me this week. It's kind of freaking amazing.
Two fabulous bloggers recently gave me two fabulous awards.
I'm not sure what the first one is called, but I'm going to title it the Bad Ass Award because there are two awards combined as one. And that is bad ass.
Thank you, Andrés. (By the way, you should totally check out his blog The Black Label.)
With this award, I need to fill out this form:
Name your favourite color: pink
Name your favourite song: Everyday is Like Sunday, by Morrissey
Name your favorite dessert: tiramisu
What pisses you off: idiots
When you´re upset you: rum & Coke
Black or White: Black because it's more slimming
Your biggest fear: Being alone one day
Best feature: My smile
Everyday attitude: I'll do it tomorrow
What is perfection: Happiness
Guilty pleasure: Ke$ha
This next award is from the beautiful Nina. You can find her blog here.
With this award, I have to list seven random facts about myself.
Here we go:
1. I gave up peanut butter from 1999 to 2010 (due to a food poisoning incident when I was 15). Now that I'm eating it again, I am ADDICTED. I eat it every day!
2. I hate rollercoasters.
3. I've had the same car for eight years.
4. Rabbits are my favorite animal.
5. I went to the Ke$ha concert this weekend and had the greatest time in the entire world. That bitch kicks ass.
6. I look really young, like super young. Everyone I meet is always astonished to find out that I'm older than 18. I'm hoping this will work in my favor 20 years from now.
7. I'm awkward when it comes to dealing with children.
I pass along both of these awards to all my followers.
Oh, and has anyone seen this video yet? I had two friends e-mail it to me this week. It's kind of freaking amazing.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Guest Post!
If you love me, you'll read my guest post about crazy bitches with plastic faces.
Click here: http://saywhatyourheartwants.blogspot.com/2011/09/change.html
Happy Saturday! xoxo
Click here: http://saywhatyourheartwants.blogspot.com/2011/09/change.html
Happy Saturday! xoxo
Friday, September 2, 2011
My 15th year was the hardest
I have some news that is going to shock you.
I was bullied in high school.
I know this is very difficult information to swallow. After all, I'm fucking fabulous.
But in 1999, the world was a different place. Britney Spears was still a virgin. Friends was the hottest show on television. Bill Clinton was the president. And somewhere Jennifer Fabulous was being treated not so fabulously...
Her name was Sarah. She had a pinched face, like a bulldog. She wore low-cut tops. She hung out with the pot-head skater boys and she desperately wanted to be popular.
Without any warning, this crazy bitch randomly made it her mission in life to ruin mine.
Completely out of the blue, she started harassing me. She yelled racist names at me down the hallway. She made fun of my dresses during class.
I was very confused, because I had never spoken to Sarah before. I honestly didn't even know she existed until she started bothering me.
I ignored her rude remarks, but that only fueled her anger.
After a few months, she started slamming into me in the hallways, pinning me against lockers, and shoving me against people. Her racist slurs became intolerable. She then tried spreading a rumor that I had gotten breast implants in middle school, which thankfully, was so ridiculous, nobody believed it.
I spent almost every day sobbing in bathrooms over her cruelty. My friends were outraged and did everything they could to console me. A couple even tried confronting Sarah, but she started bullying them too and they got scared and backed off.
I went to the principal's office three times to report Sarah that semester. Nothing was done about it. Out of frustration, four of my friends separately reported eye-witness accounts of Sarah's physical and verbal abuse towards me. Still, nothing was done.
At the Spring Dance, Sarah tripped me down a flight of stairs and then she and her friends kicked me while I was crying on the floor.
Again, I went to the principal's office to report her. Nothing.
The following summer, my dad's job got transferred to Ohio and we moved. I think it was a coincidence which might have saved my life. I never saw Sarah again.
I never did tell my parents what happened sophomore year of high school. I was too embarrassed. Looking back, I know I should have told them.
But that doesn't matter. Because I personally went to the principal four times to report Sarah's bullying towards me. I was ignored. The incident was disregarded, no matter how violent it ended up becoming.
That, I believe, is a crime within itself. My school should have protected me. It did not.
It breaks my heart to know that my experience is just one of millions in this world. Middle schools and high schools are little mini-hells, no matter what country. Teenagers can be evil. And there are educators who turn a blind eye, because they think bullying is a trivial matter.
I keep thinking, what if I hadn't moved to Ohio? What if I had been a weaker person?
Teenagers make stupid, rash decisions when they're upset, you know.
Plus, there are more and more news reports of bullying spiraling out of control these days, causing tragedies.
I can't even imagine encountering bullying now, with Facebook and texting added to the mix.
Oh, and it's funny, but a few years ago, I actually was contacted by one of Sarah's closest friends via Facebook. She wrote me a message apologizing for taking part in the bullying and she also finally gave me the reason Sarah had decided to torture me all year long.
Apparently Sarah had discovered that the boy she liked had a crush on me.
Insert eye-roll here.
I was bullied in high school.
I know this is very difficult information to swallow. After all, I'm fucking fabulous.
But in 1999, the world was a different place. Britney Spears was still a virgin. Friends was the hottest show on television. Bill Clinton was the president. And somewhere Jennifer Fabulous was being treated not so fabulously...
Her name was Sarah. She had a pinched face, like a bulldog. She wore low-cut tops. She hung out with the pot-head skater boys and she desperately wanted to be popular.
Without any warning, this crazy bitch randomly made it her mission in life to ruin mine.
Completely out of the blue, she started harassing me. She yelled racist names at me down the hallway. She made fun of my dresses during class.
I was very confused, because I had never spoken to Sarah before. I honestly didn't even know she existed until she started bothering me.
I ignored her rude remarks, but that only fueled her anger.
After a few months, she started slamming into me in the hallways, pinning me against lockers, and shoving me against people. Her racist slurs became intolerable. She then tried spreading a rumor that I had gotten breast implants in middle school, which thankfully, was so ridiculous, nobody believed it.
I spent almost every day sobbing in bathrooms over her cruelty. My friends were outraged and did everything they could to console me. A couple even tried confronting Sarah, but she started bullying them too and they got scared and backed off.
I went to the principal's office three times to report Sarah that semester. Nothing was done about it. Out of frustration, four of my friends separately reported eye-witness accounts of Sarah's physical and verbal abuse towards me. Still, nothing was done.
At the Spring Dance, Sarah tripped me down a flight of stairs and then she and her friends kicked me while I was crying on the floor.
Again, I went to the principal's office to report her. Nothing.
The following summer, my dad's job got transferred to Ohio and we moved. I think it was a coincidence which might have saved my life. I never saw Sarah again.
I never did tell my parents what happened sophomore year of high school. I was too embarrassed. Looking back, I know I should have told them.
But that doesn't matter. Because I personally went to the principal four times to report Sarah's bullying towards me. I was ignored. The incident was disregarded, no matter how violent it ended up becoming.
That, I believe, is a crime within itself. My school should have protected me. It did not.
It breaks my heart to know that my experience is just one of millions in this world. Middle schools and high schools are little mini-hells, no matter what country. Teenagers can be evil. And there are educators who turn a blind eye, because they think bullying is a trivial matter.
I keep thinking, what if I hadn't moved to Ohio? What if I had been a weaker person?
Teenagers make stupid, rash decisions when they're upset, you know.
Plus, there are more and more news reports of bullying spiraling out of control these days, causing tragedies.
I can't even imagine encountering bullying now, with Facebook and texting added to the mix.
Oh, and it's funny, but a few years ago, I actually was contacted by one of Sarah's closest friends via Facebook. She wrote me a message apologizing for taking part in the bullying and she also finally gave me the reason Sarah had decided to torture me all year long.
Apparently Sarah had discovered that the boy she liked had a crush on me.
Insert eye-roll here.
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