Category Archives: Frustration

Fuck you!


Sometimes I just leer at the mirror and mumble *fuck you*
And the mirror hurls back “As if!”


I don’t want to


I really don’t. Sometimes it’s best to be alone. And it’s really crappy when you are not allowed to be alone. 


An open fan-rant – or something like that


Okay, I’ve said it before, but maybe not clearly enough;
I’m an #EvilRegal, and Regina is Queen!

Now, that’s out of the way.

For the first three seasons of Once Upon a Time, I didn’t snoop around tumblr, twitter and other sites where fans gather and adore their ships, bash their anti-whatevers and just hang around chatting. I was happily living in my bubble where Regina was the centre of attention, and all the action, the stories and, you know, everything, should be about her.

I was oblivious to the fact that anybody would find the Charmings and Emma even remotely interesting or worth casting a second glance at. I find them so utterly annoying and self-righteous that I want to roll my eyes and go away.

Why?  When I whined about my favourites being repeatedly beaten and ripped of happiness to my mother, she just patted me on the head (through the phone) and said, that’s life for those who root for Sylvester instead of Pip, or Wild E. Coyote instead of Roadrunner. I’m doomed.

I’ve tried to find redeeming qualities in Snow, Emma and Charming. I find a few. Most in Snow. And yet, they all annoy me to no end after a couple of episodes – or less.

However, I don’t really hate any of the characters. Not with an “I’m totally repulsed”-ire. I just can’t be bothered. That’s how I feel about ships I don’t board too. They might sail alongside mine, or sink behind, or fly up in the sky. That’s not my ship, and I’ll keep swabbing the decks on mine, minding my own business.

Maybe I’m just to lazy. At the moment my mind is too preoccupied with the heartbreak and total injustice of the way they treated Robin.

I’m going back to my fluffy fan-cave now.


Instant green


Recipe for green disaster:
* One green, new feather boa (cheap)
* One dancer, preferably wearing a white leotard under a black dress

Let the dancer warm up and work up an even layer of sweat. Put the boa around the neck of the dancer and repeat the routine over and over for 45 minutes. Be sure to use a dancer incapable of keeping hands away from sweaty forehead, nose, hair etc. Let said dancer take off the black dress with green hands, and laugh your head off as she is trying to keep the leotard white.

Result:
Green face, neck (front and back) green straps on leotard, green fingers, green inside of arms, and just for fun; green finger prints on boobs.

There you go. Green disaster!

(wonder if the leotard is as easy to clean as I am!?)


Still not happy


image

I don’t want to be cranky and snappy, but I am. Deal with it! At least my knee is photogenic.


*Grumble*


One of the perks of being a grown ass woman (such as myself), is that you can do whatever you want.

That is, until your mother comes along and disapproves.

I’m not happy!


Wanted: pen


Or pencil. Even a crayon.

7 hours spent in a conference room without something to doodle or write with is unacceptable.

I’d even trade my phone.

image


Get Fit Or Die Trying – Just Between Us


Yeah. I am totally feeling like Gaby.


Blocking parents on facebook?


I don’t want to block my parents,  butI’m seriously (but not seriously enough) considering blocking 80 % of toddler parents on facebook.

I’m fundamentally disagreeing with them, and I want to shout at them and tell them they’re wrong. But I am too polite, stupid or too much of a coward.

I’m probably a coward.

I miss pictures of cute kittens and interesting  articles on science and stuff.

don’t like crazy anti-vaccine stuff and rants about everything that’s wrong with the non-parents and indignant posts on people who don’t like to be run over by a stroller.

Thank God my friends (not acquaintances – very big difference!) are sensible people I  don’t need to block! I wouldn’t know how to cope if that wasn’t the case!


Bloody humans!


How come humans are so inept at mating?

To be fair, the human population is growing at (what I consider) an alarming rate, so we are not totally crap at the art of procreation.

But why, oh why, does it seem like an impossible task to get to know another human being and stay in a healthy relationship?

Is it so difficult send and receive proper, readable signs? I mean, even the simplest of lifeforms manage somehow…


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