I’d rather live my life on the Z-list, than be a bitch

30 06 2008

*Blows the dust off her blog*

I really need to get someone in here once in awhile to blow the cobwebs out of here.

Anyways…

eDrama round the ‘sphere is always good for a laugh. Hurting people for your own enjoyment is never very nice though. I mean, I can laugh at the bigger picture all day long. That being the whole A-List to Z-List aspect and thought process of some people around the blogosphere.

Don’t try to convince me it doesn’t exist. Because it does. When a fuckin bitch of a blogger openly insults another blogger, that’s elitist. And I hate elitist. When one blogger has no qualms about calling another blogger “parasitic”, that shit is fucked up and unnecessary. Why say anything? And on a very public place like Twitter? That’s all for attention. 100% attention. The reason she got the attention she is craving is because she is a “popular” blogger. Dooce like status in some circles, or so I hear.
The most hilarious part? Both bloggers involved have the exact same number of followers on twitter. This probably means their blog followers are equal too. This cracks me up.

To me, a bitch is a bitch is a bitch.

I can be a real bitch. A mean fuckin bitch. An awesome bitch too.

But to be a bitch, just to inflict pain on someone that has done NOTHING TO YOU, just because you think you can? That’s bitch on a whole new level.

Don’t be like that kids. It’s not nice. At all. It will not earn you respect. You will LOOSE respect from people that you probably don’t even give a shit about in the first place. That’s the sad thing. But that is the reality of blogging right?

1000 people can adore you. 100 people can leave comments on your blog. Doesn’t mean you give a shit about 1 of them. Even though, chances are, you like at least 1. But not all. I can promise you that.

Now me? I follow about 20 people on Twitter. About 20 follow me. Same for Plurk. 21 friends. My average amount of comments? About 15 on a good post. I’m ok with this. The people who come here, well I think they are pretty fucking swell. The people I plurk, well, lets just say I’d like to see them ALL naked. Ha.

So leave my ass on the Z-List. I’m joined by some pretty awesome people.

I know one who’s neighbors steal her plants.

I know one who wont link to me, but I love her ass anyways.

I know one hot chick that battles bullies, broken bones, and boys daily.

I know one who is an international blogger, who’s blog is banned in China, and who also informed me that MINE is too. (Would you expect any less from either of us?)

I know one who LURVES hot dogs and the Packers of all teams. Lucky for her, she always looks hot.

I know one who might be Y-List, because she has way more class in her pinky than I do in my whole body. But her classy status does NOT define her, she is so much more.

I know one that I plan on getting old with, living in our trailer park, playing cards and drinking wine till we die a happy death.

I know one that is just FULL of opinions, although some people would call those opinions something else. But she is fucking awesome. And crass. And beautiful. People dont like that. I do. The Z-List does.

I know one that struggles, that survives, that makes me laugh with her spin on life. She’s just that good.

I know one that is just gorgeous, her eyebrows in her header lay that right out there. She is funny and creative and is *gasp* a woman with a BRAIN. All Z-Listers ARE.

I know one that is definetly not perfect, but DAMN good enough.

I know one that is willing to talk me off a ledge on the most random of days, not more than a week after we started plurking.

Believe me, this is not another form of being elite. It’s just a real fuckin honest way of saying that if you are
not scared to say hello, to put yourself out there, to be REAL, and to communicate with people who are willing to do the same, then you are so ready for the Z-List. You dont need a special pass to get in, and you sure dont need more than 100 commentors either.

Just be real. Don’t be scared of life, of other bloggers LAME ASS, rude opinions of you, and embrace the people that are supportive of you. And I dont mean comments on your blog. I mean emails, messangers, phone calls, text messages, plurks, twitters (if you like FAILURE) or whatever it is that keeps you connected.

Cuz thats how the Z-List rolls. And we roll deep. You’ve been warned.

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Classy Chaos Challenge #1

22 06 2008

There are soooo many photo challenges on the web these days. Foto Friday, Wordless Wednesday, and I’m sure a whole lot more that I don’t do. I tried the 365 project with Rura but that shit ended faster than it started.

But every once in awhile, a really funny, sexy, and classy blogger comes along. And she makes a photo challenge. That I just HAVE to participate in. Because if I can up my classy status just a little bit, then I am totally IN. Because participating in the Classy Chaos Challenge will most definitely make me a little classy by association right? Right??!

Don’t answer that. CCC#1 was to take a picture looking down at the top of my kids head. He has a really big head. A big head on a skinny body. And big ears. But I love every inch of that head and that skinny body…. so I really don’t mind.

Classy Chaos Challenge #1

Wow… I can almost feel my classy points raising.

I love to think outside the box. Thanks HO, for giving me a challenge.





Don’t be a one upper

13 06 2008

Since someonein the blogosphere, I wont say who, has essentially guilt tripped me into blogging, here goes.

I’m kinda glad that she did, because I have been meaning to blog, I just have had no motivation to do so. I’m still struggling, just writing this post. I started it yesterday for cripes sake.

Moving on…

Being that I have been at my J.O.B. for almost a year, I figured by now that things would have calmed down. But I was wrong. My mortal enemy has only gotten braver and worse. She has been driving me to a point where the things she makes me think, make me not like myself very much. She brings out the absolute worst in me.

This is just an example of the shit that she does to piss me off and why I think she does them:

  • She hums. Not an actual song, just incessant humming. In my direction. When she walks by me, when I drop something off at her desk, she hums at me. She does this because I play my radio at my desk and sometimes sing along. I don’t sound hideous and get compliments on my voice. This makes her very angry.
  • She talks on her cell phone all day and just so happens to be talking shit about me. In Spanish. She thinks I don’t understand her. Bitch, I may be half, but the half of me that is Mexican, will beat the fuck out of you.
  • She just HAD to go Go-Cart Racing. Alone. “To check it out for her church group”. She’s jealous because a bunch of us went from work during lunch and she wasn’t invited. Now she wont stop talking about how much fun she had. Alone. Also, I hung up my results from my laps, she had to do the same. FYI, some of the guys went today and didn’t invite me because they didn’t want her to overhear them and tag along. I said next time, EMAIL ME. Shit.
  • Bitch went out and conned her doc into giving her a handicap placard. Now she parks RIGHT IN FRONT of the office. The rest of us have to walk. FAR. She has “circulatory problems” that give her blood clots. I know she’s got problems, but this is just another cry for attention. In this week alone, she has told the story of why she has the placard 15 times. I’m counting. She complains that she is sick of everyone asking her, but her explanation turns into a 30 minute story for anyone unfortunate enough to ask.
  • She walks by my desk and she stifles a laugh. She does it when I walk by her too. She does this because she is petty and immature and a bitch. Laughing at me?? Oh now THAT is a good one. Bitch must not own a mirror.
  • She hung up a schedule for a minor league baseball team in her cube. She did this for two reasons. One is that she hates that all the guys come talk baseball with me. I’m the token Dodger fan of the office. I know my shit. This makes her mad. Second reason? I have the Dodger schedule hanging in my cube. She’s reaching for attention with this one.
  • The typing! Oh lord. She prints, practices, and memorizes online typing tests so that she can get 100% and hang up the results. She got mad because a couple people, including our boss, always mention that I type fast. When I get going, I get going. She has to cheat her way through a typing test in the hopes of getting a compliment.

You know, if she just ignored me like I do her, we would be fine. Perfect. But she doesn’t. She just goes on and on and on all day. Just 15 minuts ago she was talking shit about me taking an hour lunch to go racing. Bitch doesn’t know that I worked late just to do that because I only get a half hour lunch. She talked shit yesterday about my breaks and how she never gets them. She can go. No one is stopping her. I just asume that her 20 minute phone conversations every hour on the hour would count towards some kind of break. She isn’t working. She cant multitask for shit.

Gah! I am so over her. I have asked to be moved away from her, otherwise I’ll go off. And make her cry. And look like the big bitch of the office.

I am a big bitch. Just not in the office. But if she keeps this up, Ima have to take my earrings off and pull my hair into a bun, if you get my drift.

Thats how we roll.

 





5 06 2008

The most amazing thing just happened.

My friend at work got tickets for tonights Dodger’s game and he cant go so he gave them to me.

They are in the first row on the first base side.

First row. Box seats.

I don’t even know what to say. I’ve never sat in the first row and I never will again.

He gave me 4 so we can all go. If only Rura wasn’t working. My parents, my son, and I are going to have the greatest experience ever.

Dood, celebs sit down here. Fuck. I am so speechless and humbled by the kindness of people.