Absenteeism

Hey. It’s been a while.

I cannot apologize enough for my absence but a lot has been going on. I went away to paradise for a week; and it was lovely, thank you. And I moved to my own personal paradise; and it’s fantastic, thank you.

I feel in fairness, I, at the very least, owe you a catch up-in picture form- before I get back to being the Bianca that you know and love. Read: cussing and bitching about life.








Paradise was great; turns out it was exactly what I needed to rehabilitate my spirit and zest for life.

*****

The Neighb'



My new neighborhood is A-M-A-Z-I-N-G! Walking trails, tennis courts (yes!) and beautiful trees; I cannot wait to live it up this summer.

Room pictures to come...soon-ish.

That's all there is, abscense explained.

Cheers! It's great to be back.

Irony

Life can be funny sometimes; last week was the worst week I have had in the last 12 months. I wouldn't say the worst ever, because that would be dramatic.

It would seem that I need extreme adversity in order to take action.

I decided that I was going to start bidding on freelance writing positions; in order to make some more cash and to put my money where my, proverbial, mouth is.

I saw an ad for a freelance writer for an online men's magazine; and I figured, why not, a men's magazine might rather enjoy my foul mouth. So Saturday night after a few glasses of wine, I sat down to pen a piece of writing perfect for a mens magazine.

Let me say, I think I may have found my number one motivator...wine! I wrote a provocative piece about love and sex in about 45 minutes; edited it in less than 10 minutes and pressed send; crossing my fingers. Had I been completely sober, I, likely, would have taken more time hemming and hawing over the minutia.

Sunday I awoke, feeling like dirt, to find a reply in my inbox; they wanted my work! Hooray, I can now say, with absolute conviction, that I AM A WRITER.

So what's all the fuss about? What brilliant piece of written word did I send my new boss?
I present to you, my lovely readers, the piece that got me a job!


Love and Sex

In a man’s world, love and sex are mutually exclusive; I cannot count how many times I have watched “Cheaters” and the man (the cheat) pleads to his woman “ I LOVE you, this was just sex”. Some women fall for that; usually the variety under 21.

In a woman’s world, ideally, the sex is followed by fairytale love. We all know that to be very untrue; but that falsehood has helped generations of men bed lovelorn women.

It is a rare breed of woman that can fuck a guy and move on, wanting nothing than to have him lose her number. Most women think because this “guy” penetrated her and she put his penis in her mouth, that he somehow owes her happily ever after.

Harsh? Yes. Reality? Absolutely.

You see it’s simple, a man will say just about anything to get a woman into bed; including I love you. Ladies, hear this, if you just met him, there is absolutely no way he loves you; unless you piss Heineken and have tits that taste like chicken wings.

So what is this entire preamble leading up to? A few nuggets of wisdom for each of the sexes:

Men, if you just met her and you want to fuck her; do it. If she doesn’t ask you for anything except a ride home in the morning, consider yourself very lucky. But if she lingers in the morning and looks at you with google-y eyes, for god sakes, just be real with her. If you want to see her again, say it; it’s likely that your honesty will get you fucked again that morning. But if you don’t want to see her again, tell her; I repeat, TELL HER. Sure, she’ll cry, hell, she might stalk you for a few weeks, but you can sleep at night knowing that you were honest with her.

Ladies, if you like a guy, do not sleep with him on the first date. I repeat, DO NOT SLEEP WITH HIM ON THE FIRST DATE. I say this with the assumption that you like this guy and would like to explore a future; if you like him solely because he is delicious looking and your loins ache at the thought of not bedding him, then by all means, fuck your little heart out. My only caveat with most one night stands is that they usually suck for the woman, in all senses of the word; he will want head and the fucking part will most likely be mediocre at best. But at least you can say you did it. For those of you who want this elusive relationship thing, hold off, make him want it. Tease him for as long as you can take it; this accomplishes 2 things 1) deciphers whether he wants you or an orgasm. Trust this, men have short attention spans when it comes to pussy, they can get it anywhere, so if he just wants you for your pussy and you make him work, he will move on. 2) Allows you to determine whether you want his dick in you vagina. During this important courtship phase a man will show you his habits, does he shower? Is he chivalrous? And so on, because let’s be real, no girl wants a guy who doesn’t hold the door and will give her a yeast infection.

These are the fundamental rules to this dating game. You hate games you say? Too bad, life is a game and when you realize this and get in it; the results can, nay, WILL be mind blowing.

I think this is a pretty clever account of the differences between men and women; albeit completely one sided. If my friends were around we would be celebrating.

BOOM / I hate cars

Well hello there.

It’s been a minute since I've been here; I hope all is well. What have I been up to?

I’ve been hitting bottom. BOOM is the sound that hitting rock bottom makes.

Now we have been back and forth about my vehicular transgressions; tickets, un-renewed registration, the wrong insurance documents, getting towed etc. Oh wait! That happened on Sunday.

I had every intention of re-registering my car on Monday morning. My last cheque from the magazine was coming to me and once and for all I was going to be done with this car bullshit; Sunday night, the motherfucking night before, I got pulled over.

And god said HA!

Not having up to date registration is a ticketed offense; but because my name is Bianca Osbourne and my organization skills rival that of a preschooler, I had outdated insurance pink sheets, which resulted in an immediate tow.

The ironic thing, aside from driving for 4 months with an expired registration and getting pulled over the day before I was to re-register, was that it was a beautiful day. I had just finished chilling with 2 of my girlfriends and I was feeling optimistic about the week ahead. On my way to dinner at my parent’s house, I decided to take the scenic route in an effort to enjoy these budding days of spring and BOOM; 2 tickets, a towed vehicle and a ruined evening.

So my Monday was spent being driven around by my grandmother going to several banks, picking up checks, standing in line at the registry, standing in line at the court house, being inappropriately patted down at the court house and fighting back tears.

Funny story, the cashier who rang me through was the same bitch judge who made me take my hat off the last time I was at the court house. Times must be tough if they’re making the judges moonlight as cashiers. She’s a bitch anyways, so I hope she hates it.

Another funny story, I get to the court house and, just because it’s a day in the life of moi, there were 2 more tickets on my file that also needed to be paid in order to register my vehicle and free it from the “Police Seizures Lot”.

Great! Awesome! Isn’t it great to be me?

So this week instead of travelling to the California desert and partying with all my friends at one of the best music festivals in North America, I am staying home.

Coachella for all; No’Chella for me.


I did the math and in total including tickets, tow fee, registration et all; I have paid $1072 dollars in fines and fees.

BOOM.

***************

I hate cars.

Disclaimer: So that my mother doesn’t comment about my having it relatively good. I am aware that my situation is ALL MY FAULT; but the anger is still fresh and I need a scapegoat.

A car is like a mechanical dog; it needs to be fed-gas. It needs tags- insurance and registration. And if that bitch is caught without a leash, the fines come raining down like hot fire- tickets.

It’s like when parents ask children “do you think you can handle a dog? It needs to be walked, fed and loved”; and every kid says enthusiastically “oh yes, I promise I will take care of everything!”; and the dogs bowl sits consistently empty and it shits inside because it hasn’t been walked since the night before.

I am that kid. And I don’t want this dog anymore; it is shitting on my life.

My dog doesn’t bite other people, it bites me and now I am bleeding like no man's business.

*******

BOOM goes the girl that hates her dog.

Squatting

This weekend my mother moved out of the condo; fear not, it was an amicable end to our co habitation. She and the step papa took possession of their new place on Friday and the condo’s lease isn’t up until the end of April; so lucky me, I have it all to myself.

I've really been enjoying the solitude; I was raised an only child and “me” time is my thing. However, she took everything. Seriously, I am living like a squatter, case in point the pictures.


A mere week ago I was watching digital cable on a plasma screen television, like most people living in the 21st century. Now I watch television like they did in the 80’s, on a small grainy box, that requires I squint to see any of the finer details, like letters or expressions. Truth be told the first day of watching this archaic box, I was beyond hung over and I swear the effort that focusing required was only exacerbating my already throbbing head.


The TV is bad; the hub is worse. That’s the endearing term I have for my seating accommodations; that isn’t a seat at all. The hub is a cluster of blankets and pillows, along with my computer and a heating pad (cramps). It was fun at first but now my ass hurts. Getting up from a seated position is no problem, but getting up from the ground is a bitch. I make certain I have EVERYTHING I need before I sit down; because straight up, it’s too much fucking work getting up and getting back down again.


This whole set up is a lot like camping, which some people find rather recreational; I, however, despise camping. Black people don’t rough it, slavery was rough enough.

If I could talk to my adolescent self, I would say one thing; study harder or else you will be 24 and sitting on blankets on the floor watching a grainy $80 television. Sadly no one said that to me and here we are.

The countdown to my move is on...17 days.

De Caffeinated

2 months ago, I gave up coffee. I’d like to say it was because I wanted to be “naturally” energized; but truthfully, I was concerned my teeth were getting yellow, and I don’t want busted looking teeth. So I gave it up, cold turkey.

I will admit I was a bit of a savage the first few days, I kept to myself in order to preserve my close relationships; but after the first week it was all good. I was coffee free. I started drinking Matcha green tea powder because of the antioxidants; and I heard it helps drop pounds. I cannot vouch for the weight loss or the antioxidants; but my energy level stabilized.

Things were going well; until COSTCO happened.

My friend Chris and I needed to go to COSTCO for some catering supplies and COSTCO being COSTCO there were samples. Now I am a sucker for free stuff, I mean it; free stuff is ALWAYS awesome. Free meals, free compliments and free porn are always welcome. Especially the porn, you know what I’m talking about, porn ain’t cheap. Anyways, they were sampling Salt Spring Island Coffee and if it wasn’t free, I would have passed; but those assholes were giving full cups away for free. And I am a greedy bitch, so I had to indulge; you would have to.

Since that day I have not been able to carry on without my daily brew. I have fallen way off the wagon; we’re talking daily trip to Starbucks. And to make matter worse, from March 1 to March 15 McDonalds was offering free coffee ALL DAY; whatever size I wanted. I mean, they gave me no choice; I love free shit.

FUCK. My teeth. After a month and a half of restraint and glimmering teeth, I’m drinking coffee again.

Yesterday I was looking in the mirror, at a poorly lit public washroom and my teeth appeared as yellow as a 2 pack a day smoker; and it scared the shit out of me. How can I achieve impossible beauty with teeth the color of sunshine? Sunshine is wonderful when it beams from the sky, but sunshine yellow teeth are far less enchanting.

So after weeks of teeth staining behavior, I am giving up coffee again. I have replenished my Matcha reserves and I have adopted Crest Whitestrips as my new best friends.

And as for the coffee purveyors, Starbucks can suck my dick, they gauge anyways, $3.00 for a drip coffee with vanilla syrup is ridiculous. And McDonalds, I was only drinking your swill because it was free.

Crusin' the Cosmos

Cancer Horoscope for the week of March 18-24, 2010
“You’ve got a problem that can’t be ignored and that’s the fact that you’re so dang bored. You need a challenge, like a karmic bitch slap, to force you to draw from the strength you’ve yet to tap. This week, if you’re up to the test, you’ll be amazed at your newly found zest.”

I used to be really into astrology; in fact there was a time when I guided my life by my zodiac. Those days are gone. For the most part, I think its all mumbo jumbo; but this week’s horoscope was dead on.

I’m bored as fuck.

I mean I have a pretty interesting life, it keeps me on my toes to say the least; but there is something missing, the "fire" has gone out. And I couldn’t agree more with the “stars” that I need a bitch slap to get me going again.

Not a real bitch slap, so don’t try anything stupid…

Every day is the same; wake up, work, eat, go to bed, repeat. I have said it before and I will say it again THERE HAS TO BE MORE TO LIFE THAN THIS.

There really does.

Am I going through a quarter life crisis? Or just realizing this is what life is? Whatever it is, it’s dry as fuck and bumming me out.

So the “stars” say I need to challenge myself, but with what?

As a New Year's challenge, I undertook a healthy lifestyle and that’s going well; but I’m still bored. I'm working on my BIG project; and still, nada.

So what’s a bored girl to do? Stop complaining? Nah, that's no fun for you guys.

Truthfully, I don't what to do, or I wouldn't be writing this; but I am determined to find out. There has got to be a way out of this rut.

The search begins or continues, depending on how long you've been reading…

Any ideas?

A message from Bill Gates

Rule1 Life is not fair — get used to it!

Rule2 The world won’t care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish
something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.

Rule3 You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You won’t be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.

Rule4 If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss.

Rule5 Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your grandparents had a different word for burger flipping — they called it opportunity.

Rule6 If you mess up, it’s not your parents’ fault, so don’t whine about your mistakes, learn from them.

Rule7 Before you were born, your parents weren’t as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you are. So before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent’s generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.

Rule8 Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life HAS NOT. In some schools they have abolished failing grades and they’ll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. This doesn’t bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.

Rule9 Life is not divided into semesters. You don’t get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. Do that on your own time.

Rule10 Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.

Rule11 Be nice to nerds. Chances are you’ll end up working for one.


‘Nuff said.