It Must Be That Time of the Month...

Needs. We all have them. Some are more urgent than others, but they are always there. My needs are plenty.  They are a living, breathing, fluctuating, pulsing thing that never seems to be satisfied and never goes away. They are the voices in my head that tell me that I am a strong independent woman and that I deserve to be respected. But they are also the creeping loneliness and unhappiness that filters through me in the early hours of the morning when I’m awake and really should be sleeping.  It’s been years since I dealt with them. Life makes it hard sometimes to stop and look into yourself and figure out just why you aren’t happy. Life makes it hard to pinpoint the origin of happiness, of anger, of sadness, or joy. Life makes it hard because life needs to be rational – at least for me. Life needs to be practical solutions for not so practical problems. Life needs to be responsible decisions and being an adult. Not sitting around and analyzing why nothing seems to be enough for me. Why I can’t be enough for me. I’m happy being alone. Seriously. My life does not revolve around any one person or thing. It revolves around being the best person I can be without sacrificing my happiness and opinions, without changing myself for others, without editing my emotions to make those around me more comfortable.  I try hard to be true to myself, and it makes me wonder why I feel the need to be so blunt. Am I trying to get attention by being so outspoken? Is it a cry for understanding? I have no clue...All I know is that my needs are outweighing my common sense right now. My mind is full of all this not so happy stuff that I just can’t seem to untangle. It’s taken me two days to write this... and I’ve changed my mind. I’m not happy being alone. I’m sick of being alone. I’m sick of being the person who stands up for people. I want someone to stand up for me once; I want someone to be my rock. So there. I’m tired of being single, despite the fact that I am an overly controlling, stubborn, neurotic person who loves to hermit and be creatively insane.  Now someone come over and give me some fucking snuggles. <3

Slainte,

~ Viki

That Awkward Moment When...

So...it’s been a while since I posted. This post isn’t necessarily about being a Raging Bitch. It’s more about needing to get things out in the air and off my chest.

I went to a party last night. I also had a fucking blast. Until the end that is. I was feeling a little meh by the end of the night. My buzz was wearing off and I just wanted cuddles and love.  Aaaand I didn’t get any. Bummer, eh. So when one of my male friends comes upstairs and asks for people to come downstairs and crash in his room with him because he doesn’t want to sleep alone... well, we all need cuddles sometimes, yeah? So my female friend and I went downstairs to crash with him. Now picture me all non-buzzed and just wanting to go to bed...next thing I know the bed is squeaking and I’m hearing heavy breathing and panting.

You’re fucking kidding me, right?

So. Here I am with two of my friends going at it and I can’t help but wonder how one should deal with this sort of thing. Do I turn around and flip shit like I so desperately want to? Do I get up quietly, gather my things, and flee? Well, I did a mixture of both really. I got up, grabbed my shit, and walked out – slamming the door as I left. I figured that might be able to penetrate their horny beer crazed minds. Who knows, they were pretty busy. 

Now, a rational person would be vaguely disgusted and then get on with their life right?

Nope. Not me. That’s because -like most people- I have issues. Baggage. Awkward hang-ups and semi-crippling insecurities.  

I was really offended by their actions, and more than a little hurt. Their actions sent me a very clear message: their needs outweighed mine. My feelings and my comfort meant absolutely nothing in the face of their biological urges. Of course I’m thrilled with this revelation, whether or not they meant it that way. Now, some people might have thought that I knew what I was getting myself into. Said friends are both known for indiscriminate sex and healthy libido’s and we’d all been drinking. The fact that they'd only known each other a grand total of 6 hours was kind of the cherry on top of this whole situation. But when one of my friends says they don’t want to sleep alone and asks people... PEOPLE... not a singular person, down to their room because they don’t want to sleep alone, that signals loneliness to me, not horniness. And because I know what it feels like to be lonely - since I’ve been alone my entire fucking life - I figured that I’d go down there and give up a good night’s sleep to share some comfort with a friend.  That’s what I get for actually giving a shit about other people’s feelings and emotional well being.

 Unfortunately I am the type of person that gives. And gives. And gives. And never gets back it seems. I am seriously at the point where I am sick and tired of giving. I’m tired of adding people to my life who give nothing to it - whom I give love, support, advice, and protection to when they need it. But selfishness abounds, especially in my own mind. I am number one. I need to come first sometimes. I need to fulfill my own needs before I am crushed under the weight of my own inner thoughts and recriminations. So fuck all of you. Every single one of you who thinks they have the right to ignore me and my needs.Who thinks they have a right to my love, my advice, my loyalty and support. For once, I want to be number one. Over everything else. And since it’s not healthy to ask that of another person, I guess I’ll just ask it of myself. Because maybe that’s what I need to be happy. I've stood up for others my entire life, gave them someone who wouldn't judge them, who would care about them and give them whatever emotional support they needed. And I've been sucked dry it seems. I have nothing more to give. I really don't.

Slainte,

~ Viki 

P.S. If you're offended by this post I will honestly say I give zero fucks. If either of my friends are bothered by it, well then you should have thought about the consequences of your actions before you followed through with them. I'm clearly unimpressed with the entire situation, and I don't care if anyone thinks I've blown it out of proportion.  Deal with it.

I Should Have Stayed Home

So I took a shift at work today from a co-worker. She’s not particularly keen on working concession for closing shifts...or working at all really. So here I am at work on a day I could have spent watching Korean dramas and eating cherries on my couch. I’m completely comfortable in the knowledge that it is a Sunday night on a long weekend and everyone should be camping... Yeah, thanks a lot Murphy’s Law you cunt faced whore. We were ridiculously busy for a Sunday night first rush. I managed not to off myself overdosing on fake cheer and civility but by the time I was done the set I had come to a conclusion:

Stupid people should never work customer service. EVER.

Yeah, I’m a bitch. Trust me, I know.

One of my co-workers is literally so fucking stupid I’m pretty sure her mother threw her at a wall when she was a baby. Not just dropped her, but full throttle whipped her at a wall. Her thought process isn’t what ours is; you know point A to point B. Hers is more like: Point A..... *whistling noise*....*explosion*.... Point F. Yep. It’s taken a lot of my patience not to just reach out and pluck her head off her shoulders. She is literally the stupidest person I have ever met...and if she has a learning disability I sincerely apologize, but you should have a disclaimer or something for that. I legitimately fear for any children she has, she’ll probably give them Miracle Grow thinking they’ll grow faster. Dear Gods.  Now I closed with her, sent her off to clean things in the hopes she wouldn’t use the wrong chemical or leave the theatre entirely (she’s done this before).  We managed to get through closing without setting the place on fire and I was beyond ecstatic to be on my way home.

So of course the bus decided not to show up. Yupp. Sometimes they come after midnight on Sundays...sometimes not. Drives me fucking bat shit I tell you. So I took a cab home after realizing I was stranded and came home to two cats and a friend. And ants. Did I tell you about the ants? Our house has been taken over by the little fuckers. So my friend and I decided to eradicate the little shits... took off the baseboard by my entertainment unit and vacuumed them up, sealed a hole in the wall there then sealed another hole in the furnace room after pelting them with Windex and Raid. Now I’m sitting here trying to get the internet to function properly and waiting for True Blood to load, because there is no way I’m going to bed without chocolate and sexy vampires *cough Eric Northman cough*

On the whole I guess today hasn’t been a horrible day... it just would have been nice to actually have a day off to chill and not deal with stupid people, cleaning, and bugs. Oh well, the show goes on I guess.

P.S. I really wish people would be reliable... instead of fucking me over constantly.

Slainte,

~ Viki

The Beginning

I haven't always been this way. Nosiree, I grew up a fairly shy child in the big city, attending public schools and trying my best to fit in. I was outgoing in certain classes and amongst my friends but otherwise I did my time with my head down. I moved to a small town when I was twelve and nothing much changed really, I was still kinda shy and made friends slowly. My parents always tried their best to show me what the real world was like. They used their love and their knowledge to combat societies changing trends of beauty and the media's bombardment of my peers and I. Between my father's ex-military discipline and my mother's practical country girl nature I grew up to be a strong willed individual. But it wasn't until after I moved out of my parents house and didn't have them as a shield that I realized just what this world was about (at least in my small corner of it). Whenever I'd have a confrontation when I was younger I would almost always back down. Not in a bad way, I was just not interested in wasting my time talking to this idiot who seemed to think their opinion was tantamount to the Word of God. But living on your own opens up new horizons; I had new social spheres and new people flooding into my life. There was the university I was attending, my new work place, my new roommates, new friends, the grocery store, so many new places to come across people. And assholes. Let's not forget the assholes. When your pelted with new experiences you have to find a way to overcome the sensation of sinking. I had no clue what I was doing, I'd never been on my own really, I'd never had to pay rent or get a real job, or go on interviews and such. It was a big revelation for my city-country hybrid of a brain. But I decided that this was for me and I was going to rock this shit so to speak. I've always been good at standing up for others, and by moving out I learned how to stand up for myself as well. But it wasn't until I started my job working at a local movie theatre that the proverbial shit hit the fan.

Now, let me tell you, nothing turns people into bigger douche canoes then food. I'd worked in my hometown convenience store before, and yeah I'd met a couple jerks....but nothing prepared me for the sheer amount of bullshit people will throw on you if you put one too few squirts of butter on their bloody popcorn. Now, let me clarify, I love my job. I love the speed, the team work, the feeling of satisfaction when we blow through 800 people in one rush and don't run out of popcorn. It's a blast most of the time. But when you deal with so many people be they Guests or coworkers, shit gets real fast. You learn to fear the words: I'm late for my movie. Cause that means if you don't butter their popcorn perfectly, fill their drinks perfectly, and complete the transaction with a painful plastic smile all in 60 seconds...well, it's suddenly your fault their experience has been ruined. Patience is the virtue in this industry, because if you don't have it in spades you won't last. These people are pretty easy to deal with, but after 2.5 years of this I gotta admit my patience has eroded a but. Between a customer service job and living in a town of highly religious Mormons I had an interesting flight from the nest for my first two years.

My job turned me into a Raging Bitch. That's my root people. A leadership role combined with management who want me to get the job done in the most efficient and polite way possible have turned me into a raging bitch. Not that I'm complaining. I fucking love my personality. I take no shit,  and I will cuss you out so hard that your deceased great grandmother will chase after me with a bar of soap. I try my best to keep it all under wraps though, because I do believe in being courteous and polite to people even if they don't deserve it. But as soon as I swipe out for the day and I'm allowed to be me...well, let's just say I give zero fucks if I offend someone when they are being a bigot, ignorant, sexist, or plain just pissing me off. Because life is too short to worry about whether or not I'm offending someone, and besides I have very few vices... my bitchiness just happens to be my favourite.

Slainte,

~ Viki