HTML: Honestly Though, My Life...

I'm not one of those girls that's going to like, shy away from hard work and dedication. I mean, my parents definitely instilled in me a sense of right and wrong. Like a girl doesn't need anyone who fucking doesn't need her, ya know?

So when I set out this semester to learn HTML, I was thinking, like, honestly, I know this may not what I want out of life, but it can like, certainly further my future.

Event Planning is my passion. There's honestly nothing like the high of putting up decorations and having people stand around them. I legit, like, dream about it at night. I remember the first, like, party party that I went to, where people were like fucking classy and shit. It was a 20s party for my parent's anniversary about seven years ago. Fucking Yolanda like had to bring her fucking son to the thing because apparently, as she put it, "their house burned down." Like, honestly, we're not the type of family to make a scene, so we just let her and fucking Guillermo stay as long as they didn't eat or touch anything. Anyway, the party was like, legit, so fucking beautiful. I remember looking up at the string lights on our balcony thinking wow, this is like, legit, what I want to do.

Honestly, I believe life happens for a reason. Like, good girls rarely make history. So I start, like, doing some heavy research as to how to learn HTML. And, honestly, like, there's nothing a book can teach me that life experience can't replace. I eventually met this computer programmer who was like... OK, I don't want to sound like I'm like the shit or anything, but, like, legit, a lot of people have said that 50 Shades of Grey is based on our life. I'm honestly just saying. This guy was like, super wealthy, super handsome, had a super fucked up childhood which resulted in him, like, not being able to process his feelings properly or whatever. And I'm like the sweet, but naive girl who like has her head on straight and is like super passionate. And like, I get how this is like coming off, or whatever, and I'm so, like, not that girl, ya know?

Anyway,  one day during "feeding time" as he called it I asked him about HTML and coding and we had, like, a super fulfilling one-sided conversation about life in general and our dreams and ambitions. I told him about my Event Planning website I wanted to start and like the next day he like smashed my laptop with a hammer. And, like, that gesture alone meant more to me than anything a book or fucking Yolanda's ass ever taught me.

The moral of the story, honestly, is that I don't mind living in a man's world as long as I get to be a woman in it.

What I'd Never Buy Online (Honestly, the Answer May Really Fucking Surprise Your Ass)

First of all, guys, this shit has GOT to stop. Black Friday lasts a whole week now? Cyber Monday? It's like, are we even human beings anymore? What happened to good, old fashioned having your dad pay full price for stuff you didn't need but wanted? I mean, seriously.... It's as if we don't fucking care what we buy online anymore. WHAT HAPPENED TO CUSTOMER/EMPLOYEE INTERACTION??? Remember the days when you knew what you were buying?

Let me explain:

I'm at a party last weekend at Mark's parent's cabin in New Hampshire. I don't know, it's fine, I guess. It kind of bugged me how much he talked it up in the Facebook event. Like, Oh, "If you're staying, don't worry! There will be enough beds to go around..." OK, Mark! A fucking Trundle bed doesn't fucking count. Nobody wants to sleep on a fucking pull out shelf underneath a bed that someone's already sleeping on!

The last time I slept on a Trundle bed, Kim got up to pee in the middle of the night and stepped on my face and shattered my fucking nose. And like, I'm not the type who's gonna be all, Oh I blame you or whatever. That's just not the kind of person I am. So I kinda just let it slide. I'm in her bathroom with blood gushing out my nose and I can feel all the loose bones in my face but I'm playing it off like, Wow these decorative soaps are super interesting!

Then she's all, You sure you don't need a band-aid? And honestly, like, that really fucking offended me. I'm honestly such an independent person. Like, if I needed a band-aid I'd, like, legit just go get one. I mean, don't get me wrong, I've known her since we were in diapers and shit, but honestly it just really fucking offends me how she is sometimes. But I honestly love that bitch to pieces.

So we're at Mark's party and like, some guy starts shouting like, "I bet no one will eat this raw hamburger I found in the garage fridge!" And I'm like, honestly, like, super tired at this point. I like, NEED to be up tomorrow but I'm like, legit, I've, like, DONE that before. He's like, "Yeah, well was there this much freezer burn on it?!" And then he's like going around gathering money from everyone to get me to eat it. I'm thinking like, Um, OK dude. I have and would've done that shit for free and this dude's like, trying to buy my love? Like, literally I'm looking for a MAN. Not a BOY, ya know? It's just like, what happened to manners and chivalry? Like, not that I would even like fucking want a guy to pay for my dinner, because honestly like, if I'm on a date I'm legit always paying my own way. Cause it's like, Everything happens for a fucking reason.

So anyway, I was laid up with food poisoning or fucking salmonilla or whatever and I'm like, trying to delete my Facebook and Instagram just to get away from it all. Then I get a Facebook event notification from Mark like, oh come to another fucking lame ass party at my fucking lame ass cabin. Then, here's the thing. He goes, "I bought a keg for super fucking cheap from this sketchy ass dude on Craigslist."

And it got me thinking how I'd never buy a fucking keg on Craigslist. Like, legit.

I lost the list for the virtual scavenger hunt, ok?

Guys, I don't know about you, but I found the scavenger hunt assignment to be super fulfilling and meaningful and fun. Honestly, naming my favorite part would be like naming the thing I hate most about our maid, Yolanda. Here is a breakdown of some of my favorite parts, with some of my, like, insights into each category. This is me, world. Take it or fucking leave it.


1) UNIVERSITY PLACE HOUSE

Not to sound braggy, but I used to date one of the guy's from Property Brothers. Even though we dated for like, two and a half weeks, it was honestly one of the most fulfilling relationships of my life. He used to dress me up in a red shirt with no pants, make me stick my whole fist in a honey jar and call me Winnie. It was one of those sweet, beautiful inside jokes that couple's have that make like, absolutely NO sense to anyone but those in the relationship.

So, needless to say I know a thing or two about real estate. I didn't have to look it up. We bought our fucking piece of shit cousin, Dustin, who's addicted to cough syrup, a three bedroom house in University Place for $219,000. Our grandma lives in one of the other rooms. She's super old and smells like a fucking wet dog. Honestly, she's always talking about how she used to work at a candy store when she was a girl. Like, we get it, you're fucking poor and old. Get a life.

In the other room we keep our Sea-Doos.


2) BOOK A TRIP TO HAWAII

I've been to Hawaii. Adam, my ex-boyfriend one time sold me to this group of natives for $50,000. They wanted me to sit in the middle of the room and trim my toenails with an apple in my mouth while they sacrificed a pig for the next night's Luau. Luckily for them I hadn't had a pedicure in like a fucking week so my feet looked like Eagle's claws. It was honestly a super rewarding experience.

Obviously our trip cost a lot less since Adam used the money he got to offset the cost. I went on a poor person's airline website and it says that you can get like a seat on some cattle car airplane and a week's stay in some hotel that SOMEONE ELSE STAYED IN BEFORE (yuck!) for $6,500.


3) FIND ANDREW FRY'S SISTER

Why? Is she missing? My cousin's been missing since August and you don't see me complaining. He was last seen in Miami, working for this super sketchy Puerto Rican dude who owned a sand business. I was going to call the police and report him missing but my phone was being all dumb and the screen was cracked and I didn't want to get a glass splinter in my cheek, so I figured forget it. I'm like a hugely spiritul person even though I don't believe in the institution of organized religion. It's just like a tool to control the weak. Plus my old boyfriend was a priest and tried to drown me in Holy Water as a prank.

If God wants him to be not missing, then he'll show up.


4) TWITTER

I don't use Twitter anymore. Four years ago my twitter got hacked and all my photos were sold to some video game company. I didn't find out until years later when I was watching my boyfriend play Grand Theft Auto with his weed dealer and I saw my face on one of the prostitutes. I remember saying, "Hey! That like, totally looks like me!" Then he shot her in the face. I thought that was like, super shady of him.


Anyway, the scavenger hunt was super fun. These were my favorite aspects of it, guys. A friend will be there to bail you out of jail. A real friend will be there in the cell next to you going, "That was fun. Let's do that again."

The Machine is totally (US)ing us, guys...

Let me tell you a story:

I broke my collarbone at a Lorde concert over the summer. Like, Lorde, even though she's what, like 17? She super speaks to me. She got me through my break-up with Bobby who broke up with me because fucking Kim told him I was sleeping with Greg. She then got me through my breakup with Greg who broke up with me because, as he put it, we were "never actually dating." With Lorde, I put on her music and just, like, lose myself. Whenever my parent's are yelling at the maid, Yolanda, about taking up space in our fridge with her fucking smelly ass rice and beans, I just put my headphones in and let Lorde fucking saranade away the drama.

I remember the first time I heard Lorde. I was driving my dad's Range Rover, pouting because I left the fucking AUX cable in my cunt mom's shit-ass Tahoe and what am I going to do, listen to the fucking radio? I was so over it. All the sudden this song comes on and it's, like, actually, not even going to lie, like, GOOD. The lyrics just spoke to me. The first line that goes, something something something something something something GREY GOOSE! I remember thinking, like, oh my god, that's totally me. Because, you may not know, but I'm a shot-girl at Club Julep and guess what we were serving that night?? YUP! GREY GOOSE! It's like, I had to know who the artist was.

So I pull out my phone and open Shazam up to try and figure it out. As I'm not paying attention, I crash into this dumb fuck's dirty ass Corolla. I couldn't believe it. I honestly, like, didn't even need this drama in my life, so I honestly just got out and walked away. Life is way too short to have toxic people in your life.

Fast forward two months, a fucking drama filled court proceeding, and lots of community service
where I fed fucking chunky ass vomit looking soup to homeless veterans (which was, like, super fulfilling, by the way, I recommend it to anyone) later, I finally got my ankle bracelet off and decided to celebrate I'd go see Lorde with my best friend. Since Natalie was at the river that weekend, I called Kim who like, even though we've had a falling out since the Greg drama, is still an important person in my life.

Anyway, long story short, at the concert, EVERYONE HAD THEIR PHONE'S OUT! They were all filming the concert going on, like, ten feet in front of them. It's like, put your phone's down guys, ya know? It was raining and my wedges were all slippery and gross and I ended up falling down the hill breaking my stupid fucking collarbone. So, in conclusion if you don't think you're phone is controlling you... maybe you shouldn't think that.

If You Can't Handle Me At My Worst...

Honestly... Here's the thing: I'm a super loyal person. Like, if you're my friend, I'll fucking die for you. Like, that's just me. I'll give you the fucking shirt off my back. It's actually, like, seriously, one of my faults. People take advantage of good people. Like, if I'm on the bus, I'll give up my fucking seat if you're old or super crippled. And, like, although my parent's have money and, like, I had a super awesome upbringing, I'm not, like, going to throw it in your face like that fucking cunt Kim does.

Speaking of which, if you like fucking disrespect my family, then honestly, you've just made yourself an enemy for life. Like, once you have my trust, you HAVE it. But, like, I'm getting a tattoo next week from my friend Brad who's like super creative, but, like can't get his license because of some bullshit DUI he got even though he wasn't even that drunk. Anyway, the tattoo is going to say, I FORGIVE, BUT NEVER FORGET. It's, like, the guiding light to which I live my life by. It means that even if you break my fucking deep, expansive trust, I still won't forget that shit you did to me, Kim.

PR is my passion. But helping people is too. Like, my dream job would be to open up a Veternarian clinic inside of, like, a super non-judgmental gym where like fucking fat asses could come and not get laughed at for being fucking disgusting.

And like, on the weekends, I'd volunteer helping starving black orphans learn to read and shit.