The Unexpected Gifts (maybe not safe for a work computer)

Well, I'm fucking done here. 

How's my day been?

So, you know...awesome.

Just to be clear, the universe is the little kid, and I'm the grandma. The universe is a little shit.

My day, however, has nothing on my week.

You guessed it- I'm not the dog in this situation.

Let's see...where do I begin?

Oh yes, I know.

Tuesday evening I received a call from my bank, wanting me to confirm recent activity on my account. Since this happened to Jared the day before I thought nothing of it. For Jared it was more of an inconvenience because they happened to freeze his card while we were trying to check out at the grocery store. And, of course, he received a call from the bank to unfreeze his account only after he used his credit card and we were walking out of the store. 

Mine was...not like that.

Earlier in the day, I bought a drink from Starbucks with no problem. That was probably around 11ish. I received the phone call from the bank around 6 that evening. Again, I thought nothing of it since it proved to be such a non-issue the day before. Well, let me tell you. It was an issue. A huge fucking issue. There were three charges on my account that were most definitely not mine.

-The person who had my card information, probably.

They gave me the details of these purchases: the stores, where the purchases were made, the amounts, and dates. Since I was taken a bit off-guard by this, I didn't think to write this information down. It allowed me to mark these purchases as fraudulent, but since it was an automated system, it told me to call customer services in order to request a new card. I was at work, so I thought I could call customer service when I got home.

- Me, definitely.

Well, I was wrong. After much button-mashing and yelling at the phone robots for a representative, I finally gave up. I was able to get through the next day and ordered a new card, but while I had the rep on the phone, I decided to inquire about the purchases again.

Me: So, I know when they called me yesterday, they gave me the details, but I was dumb and didn't write them down. I checked my account, and I see two of them pending, but I'm not seeing the other one at all. I'm assuming that means that y'all didn't process the transaction and froze my account then?

Taylor: Yes, in all likelihood, that is what happened. I can see it on my end, but if it's not reflected on your account, we probably flagged it then.

Me: Awesome. I was wondering if I could get the details of those charges. 

Taylor: No problem at all.

She then proceeds to rattle of the information.

Me: Can you tell me where these purchases were made? I mean, I know the companies. You just gave them to me, but the geographical location?

Taylor: *awkward silence* Erm...yeah, but sometimes that's not indicative of where the person was when the purchases were made. It looks like these were all online purchases...

Me: No, I totally get that. I was more curious than anything. I'm not going to, like, hunt them down, Liam Neeson-style. I don't have a particular set of skills that would make me a nightmare to them. Unless they're fatally allergic to sarcasm and shade. In which case, I still won't hunt them down as they've spent a good portion of my money.

Taylor:...okay. X was in Scarborough, Canada, Y was in Pembroke Pines, Florida, and Z was in Ohio. No specific city. Just Ohio.

I can't blame her for not getting my humor. I mean, I found out her name is Taylor Taylor, so her parents win, man. I can't compete with that.

Anyway, after I hopped off the call with Taylor Squared, I decided to do a bit of digging. 

One of the purchases was from Hammacher Schlemmer, which is apparently "America's Longest Running Catalog" and specializes in "unexpected gifts". If by "unexpected gifts" they mean "unauthorized purchases that show up on your account"...in which case, they totally nailed it.

The second one was from a place called NuWear, and they specialize in men's underwear and swimwear. Their website is...suggestive. Which is fine. Whatever. I don't care. You do you. Just make sure to do you with your own fucking credit card. I don't want to know that you spent $141.33 of my money on fucking dick socks. I'm living the dream, working a part-time retail job that I honestly can't stand, hoping that my paychecks fall in such a way that I'm not late on any of my bills, but sure, no problem. I'll be glad to fund your dick sock addiction.

I don't even have a dick. 

Fortunately for me, but unfortunately for you, this was the transaction that wasn't processed. 

I was able to find you a consolation prize. No, no. You earned it.

Edit: I don't want to include an actual picture of one of the dick socks, but in case you're curious, I will include a link here. 

Third is the motherfucking cake-taking purchase. It seemed so innocent in the beginning. It simply showed up on my account as "Briefcase". Yes, it seems odd, I know. But the reason I didn't immediately think anything of it is because a while back, I made a purchase from ThinkHuman.com, and it showed up on my account as "Human". My bank flagged that one too, but we had a good laugh about how that's totally what an information stealing robot would put as their store name. Because robots are fucking dumb, y'all. 

And then I was never heard from again.
Avenge me. Or don't. That thing is fucking scary.

But anyway, back to "Briefcase". So...right. Seemed innocent enough. Until I did more digging. Never do more digging. If you do more digging, you find things you don't want to find. Like, did you guys know that websites could have aliases? Because I didn't fucking know that. Turns out that little ol' innocent Briefcase is actually known as Jockstrap Central. Which, again, is fine. I just wasn't expecting to be bombarded with dicks at 11 in the morning. Much less being bombarded with them because you bought ninety fucking dollars worth of jockstraps. Now, as I've mentioned, I'm lacking in the penile department, but I do know what a jockstrap is for. Okay, well, I had to Google it to make sure I was right, and I totally was. It's to keep the goods on lockdown and protected when guys are doing the sports. Now, with this knowledge in mind, why...for the love of god, why are there picture of dudes wearing jockstraps with their junk hanging out? That just isn't practical. So not only are you spending $90 of my money on jockstraps, it's possible that you're not even buying the practical ones. 

Hey there, Dick Sock. 

I hope your purchases chafe the shit out of you, you thieving little shit. And whatever you bought from Hammacher malfunctions and sets your dick on fire. I bet then you'll wish you had a proper jockstrap. 

I'm coming for you. Sort of. I mean with this post.

So not really at all.

She's Not Even That Pretty

Tonight I went to go meet my family for dinner, and I as I was driving a random thought popped into my head. And let's be honest, that happens a lot. It's hardly noteworthy, but the thought was about how vicious females are towards one another for no other reason than jealousy or just generally being a bit of an asshole. There are so many ways in which we are terrible to each other, but this thought was focused on something more specific than just generally cattiness and shit-talking.

I'll share with you all a couple of experiences that demonstrate exactly the specific behavior I want to talk about.

Experience 1:
Back in college, I met a guy, Sam*, that later became my boyfriend (now ex-boyfriend). We met through mutual friends and hit it off. We were still just friends for a little while, but gradually started hanging out more at friends' parties. There was another girl, Stacy who was very much into Sam. Sam and Stacy had flirted a bit, but ultimately he wasn't really that into her. He decided that he wanted to pursue a relationship with me, and so we did. Well I found out a little while after that from a mutual friend of mine and Stacy's that when Sam decided he liked and wanted to date me that Stacy was pretty pissed. "I don't get it. She's not that pretty," Stacy told our mutual friend.

Experience 2:
Fast forward about four years to when I started my first non-retail job. I was a receptionist for X company, and pretty much from the beginning got on well with most of my coworkers. I had been warned about one female coworker in particular by the former receptionist. She told me that the female coworker probably already hated me because I was young and pretty. I told her that I appreciated the heads up and would be aware, but really I brushed it off as I'm not one who likes to get caught up in office politics and gossip. Well, as it was, I ended up being pretty good friends with the female coworker about whom I had been warned, so I chalked it up to a personality conflict between the former receptionist and my new friend, Beth. We eventually started going out for drinks at a bar a couple of blocks away from the office, and as time went on we became better friends. Then one night while we were at the bar, she told me that she felt bad because back when I first started, some of the guys in the office were talking about how hot I was, and she told me that as they were talking about me, all she could think was, "She's not even that pretty".



"She's not even that pretty."

"I don't get it. She's not that pretty."


Why is that necessary to point out? I mean, really. Why do we do this to one another? Do we think that by pointing out that the girl who got the guy or the girl who is "fresh meat" and therefore getting a lot of attention isn't pretty that somehow you'll be more attractive? I mean, what is this behavior? I get it, Stacy and Beth were jealous. I'm familiar with the emotion as my green-eyed monster has reared its ridiculous head numerous times. I've even been known to utter variances of the two above phrases in the past, so I know where it's coming from, but Jesus Christ, could we not? Why do we have to base someone's worthiness on their physical attractiveness? There is so much more to each and every one of us as a human being than the way our facial features and bodies are arranged. We have thoughts, feelings, opinions, and beliefs. I'm going to go a bit Tyler Durden on you for a minute: We are not our eyeliner. We are not our cheekbones. We are not our asses (which we already think is too big/too flat/too wide). We are not someone else's opinion of us.

Please stop doing this to each other.When women say things like this about other women, all it does is drag women down as a whole. We are in so many ways agreeing that there really is nothing more to us than how we look and how aesthetically pleasing we are to anyone with eyes. I mean, from the mouths of babes, amirite?

Everyone has insecurities. Women and men alike, but I don't know that I've ever heard a guy say to another guy, "Man, I just don't get it. Why did he/she pick him? He's not even that hot". I know that guys have their own way of guy bashing, but that's not what I'm focusing on this time around. This is about us ladies. We are hearing so much in the media these day about how famous women are standing up for Women's Rights and refusing to play the game of "Who Do You Think Is A Slut?", and I think that's wonderful because honestly so many of them are role models for other women. They're showing us that it's not cool or graceful to call someone a slut or a bitch or to fat/skinny shame. They're teaching us that everyone is beautiful and everyone has a purpose. While some of us already know that, others need that example to be set for them.

But the problem is that this type of dialogue still happens. It's great that famous women are standing up and saying that this type of behavior isn't acceptable, but it's not enough. Regular, everyday women need to take part as well. Realize that before you flippantly say that you don't think they're that pretty, maybe that woman thinks so too. And what has she done to hurt you? In most scenarios, nothing other than being a perceived threat by you. Maybe she has a thing you want and your jealousy over her having that thing caused long lasting damage to her self-esteem. I know, I know...a woman shouldn't even base her self-worth on how she looks, but let's be honest, most women want to be perceived as pretty. No woman has ever gone, "You know...I look rather like a gremlin. Let's take on the day!" Unless she is, in fact, a gremlin, in which case, I'm wrong and please carry on, Greta. And I know that there are a lot of women out there that couldn't spare a half a fuck if someone thinks she isn't pretty, and to be honest, I want to be those women when I grow up. I want to not care if someone says someone basically says that I'm not attractive, but I'm not there yet. It's so much easier said than done, and I hope to one day achieve that level of "go-fuck-yourself-I-couldn't-fucking-care-less-about-what-you-think-of-me"ness. Until then, please just shut up.

She's a strong, independent gremlin, and she don't need no validation.

I think that being pretty and beautiful is about so much more than if you have clear skin or perfect teeth or a perfectly symmetrical face (science, y'all). To me, being pretty is more about who you are as a person. It's being kind to those you meet. It's being a person who tries to do her best to do the right thing and to be a good person. It's having quirks that make you, you. It's knowing that just because someone has something doesn't make what you have any less meaningful or important. And it's a million other little things that make each person special and unique. 

Maybe it's possible that the guy chose the other girl because he thought you had an ugly personality. Maybe the other girl got a lot of attention because she was just being herself and seemed happy and was fun to talk to.

But here's the thing: Why does it matter to you so much that the guy chose the other girl? Why does it matter that the other girl is getting more attention than you at the moment? Why are you putting so much importance on what these guys think about the other girl and, by comparison, you? You are worth so much more than your looks too. So the guy didn't choose you or the guys are fawning over the new girl...big, fat, fucking whoop. You are also worth more than being that guy's girlfriend and you are worth so much being a nice piece of ass. It's time to start acting like it.

Maybe the next time you're in a situation where a guy you like decides he's not that into you and decides to pursue another girl (or no one at all), you move the fuck on because why would you want to be with someone who doesn't want to be with you or whom you have to convince to give it a shot? Give yourself more credit than that, lady! Your value is not based your dating status. And maybe the next time you hear the guys talking about what a hot piece of ass the new employee is you shut that shit down. And not by saying you don't see what all the fuss is about because she's not all that pretty. Do it by calling them on their shit. Saying something like, "Seriously? You assholes do realize that she's more than just a walking vagina, right? I heard that she knows Krav Maga and ripped off a guy's testicles by accident in her last tournament. And she killed a bear. I think it was at the same tournament." But you also don't want to start terrible rumors, so maybe follow it up with, "Just kidding about the Krav Maga thing, but I'm if sure if HR wouldn't fire her, she'd rip off your testicles if she overheard you saying that shit about her." I don't know. Like I said, I don't do office politics, so you pick the dialogue- just make sure it doesn't include your opinion of her attractiveness.

It's possible that right now some of you might be thinking this is all hippie-dippie, Kumbaya bullshit, but I assure you it's not. You think that it's not your responsibility to coddle the people with low self-esteem.

"Just get better self-esteem!" you might shout. Well, thank God you're here. Why didn't we think of that? Shit...we've wasted all of this time not loving everything about ourselves (which we should because, let's be honest, we're goddamn rock stars) when we should have just taken a trip down to the Self-Esteem store and picked up some fresh, new and improved self-esteem! Egads, you're right! Also you're not helping. I don't even want to hear your thoughts on depression.

"Why do you care what other people think about you? It sounds like you're the problem, not them...get over yourself and stop being so sensitive!" you chant, which to be honest is a fucking weird chant to have. Do you see how long that chant is? It's ineffective. Also you're an asshole. Do better.

"How am I supposed to know if someone has self-esteem issues, and my comment is going to hurt them terribly?" I'm glad you asked. You don't. You never know if someone is battling with cripplingly low self-esteem. I don't know where everyone gets the idea that in order to have shitty self-esteem you have to look like this:

A lot of people I've known had low self-esteem, but you never would have known by looking at them. We don't come with a flashing neon sign. So to answer your question simply: you don't know what everyone's issues are so just be kind.

It's really that simple.


*All names have been changed

The pursuit of happiness has no room for your bullshit

As a lot of us know, in the past few months, Bruce Jenner has made an announcement that he was going to make the transition to become a woman. And in the age of 24-hour media coverage, jokes and opinions started rolling in in droves which is unfortunately to be expected. Everyone had an opinion and punchline ready. I admit, I was surprised, but it didn't bother me. As it shouldn't. It's not for me to be bothered by. It's none of my business, and I say this as someone who has fully supported his decision (yes, I've used masculine pronouns because at that time, he still wanted to be referred to as "Bruce" and a "he").

Fast forward to yesterday.

Yesterday morning the cover photo for Vanity Fair was released, and in my unsolicited opinion, it is stunning. Watching KUWTK (Keeping Up With The Kardashians for those like me who originally was like, "What the fuck is that?") Sunday night I kept seeing similarities to Geena Davis, but this cover looks more like scientists combined the DNA from Jessica Lange and Cindy Crawford. I mean, wow- Caitlyn is gorgeous! That's her name. And you know what? Good for her! I've seen a lot of positive and supportive feedback about her transition, the cover, and her desire to be known as Caitlyn, and this makes my heart swell to see how many forward-thinking and wonderfully supportive people there are out there. And as much as I love reading all of the beautiful comments, tweets, articles, you name it, this post is not for you. No. This post is for all of the ignorant, hateful pieces of shit out there in the media, cyberspace, and life.  

Who the fuck do you think you are? This has nothing to do with you. I don't care that you think it's icky or weird or "gay". Everyone has an opinion, I get it. I'm not naive enough to think that if people don't like it, they'll keep it to themselves. Of course they won't. They need to shout it from the rooftops, but yet won't give us the courtesy of jumping off while they're at it (that was harsh, I admit, but honestly, I don't think you deserve anything better). I've seen comments talking about- wait, you know what? Let me find one.

You're a judgmental, bigoted asshole. Lol brah. 

That would be a picture that was posted by one of our local news channels. Go figure that we have comments like that on a page based in Texas. I know- shocker. I know I should block out their names for their privacy, but I'm not a good person so I'm not gonna. 

Anyway, to people that agree specifically with those two comments, here's what I have to say to you: You don't get to decide what is right for other people. No, shut up. You just don't. I don't give a shit about your beliefs and your opinions, just like, I'm sure you don't give a shit about mine. That's fine. What's not fine is telling someone that they don't get to be who they are. If a man is gay, he's gay, and you're not allowed to call him a fag and/or beat the shit out of him. If a woman tells you that she's bisexual, you don't get to call her a slut, a "lesbo", or make disgusting "jokes" about having a threesome. If a man doesn't feel like a man and identifies as a woman, she gets to do that, and you don't get to tell her that she can't. You just don't. I know you will, but that's because you're a fucking idiot who doesn't listen.  But I reserve the right to call you out on the stream of incoherent, neandrathalic grunting that you call opinions.

Have you heard what I said? Your opinion doesn't matter, and you don't get to decide for other people what is right for them. Now I want you to repeat that to yourself while simultaneously punching yourself in the face. I'll wait.

Done? Actually I don't feel like you and I really got through to you. Try again. This time punch harder.

Whoa, you blacked out there for a minute, buddy. You okay? Just kidding- I don't give a shit.

Now, I know what you're going to say. 

"But Bekky, I don't care about your opinion and what you say. You're just a Libtard, and all of you are trying to tear apart this beautiful country that was 'founded under God'".

You can't make this shit up, folks.

Ah, yes. The political and religious arguments. I'm so glad you brought this up. First, liberals are not tearing this country apart. Sorry, we're just not. Not saying that conservatives are either (I'm just going to leave it at that). Actually this has nothing to do with politics, so there's that. I know, I know. You're foaming at the mouth to have a knock down, drag out "debate" about politics, but as the saying goes, "Arguing with idiots is like play chess with a pigeon- no matter how good you are, the bird is going to shit on the board and strut around like it won anyway". Secondly, I hate to break it to you, but this country was not founded as a Christian nation. It just wasn't. I'm sorry to be the first one to tell you this. Or maybe I'm not. We've already established that you're an idiot who doesn't listen. Were some forefathers Christians? Sure, but that's not what they wanted to base a country on. They tried to create a country in which "freedom of religion" was practiced. That means that you're free to practice your religion and feel strongly about it, but so is everyone else, regardless of what their religion (or lack thereof) is, and you don't get to be a dick about it. I'm sure this will upset a lot of people because it sounds like I'm generalizing, but I assure you, I'm not. I'm talking about people like good ol' Luis up there. You don't get to spew your ignorant, hateful bullshit and then hide behind your religion and your "patriotism". The God and Jesus I've heard about wouldn't stand for your hate-mongering and judgmental chest-beating. So, again, there's that. 

Anyway, I feel like I got a bit side-tracked up there. The moral of this post is "Don't be a dick". In fact, I wish that I could go back in time to when the first Bible was written and take that guy's hand and write exactly that on every fucking page. And I might even stop over while the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence were being drafted just to be thorough. Actually, now that I think about it, it's already kind of in the Declaration of Independence. And I quote, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that means all men were created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness".

And I get it, for all the bitching I did about how your opinions don't matter, you would probably like to repay that comment in kind. Well, let me remind you: You clicked on my post.

Bye, bitch. Bye.

The Battle Between Kirk and Spock

Things have been weird lately. Last Thursday I was laid off from the job I've had for the past three and a half years, and I'm not quite sure how I feel about it yet. Mainly I'm excited because I've deluded myself into seeing it as a great adventure (NOW I CAN DECIDE WHAT I REALLY WANT TO DO WITH MY LIFE! WAHOO!), but then the logical side insists on popping in fairly regularly with a rather (un)helpful and panic-making "Um, hey there, Captain Kirk, what are you going to do about a paycheck?"

The rest of the conversation goes a little like this:

Captain Kirk: "This is a good thing! I can figure out what it is that I really want to do with my life!"

Mr. Spock: "Well, yes, this is probably a good thing, but let's not get too carried away. Don't start dreaming of becoming a squirrel wrangler and starting your own squirrel farm just yet. You need to start searching for more...logical jobs that will earn actual money."

CK: "BAH! I wasn't even going to start a squirrel farm. I want to write! I want to write a novel and never have to go into an office again because fuck. that. noise."

MS: "...okay. But maybe find a job to earn money while you write? That sounds like a better idea. Let's do that. Because food is nice. So is having a car and a place to live."

CK: "But I don't want to do that. I just want to write. I want to wake up whenever I want to and just write things."

MS: "I'm pretty sure that's not how it works. But I'll humor you. What have you written?"

CK: "..."

MS: "..."

CK: "..."

MS: "...have you written anything?"

CK: "I've written...things."

MS: "What things?"

CK: "Well...ideas. For things."

MS: "...Ideas for things? What does that even mean? Like a grocery list? A note on a calendar? A text message?"

CK: "NO! I've written ideas down for book and short story ideas."

MS: Sigh. "Well, I guess we have to start somewhere. Tell me about these ideas."

CK: "Well, there was this idea that I had for a vampire book.."

MS: "Hasn't that been done?"

CK: "Yes, but not like this! I was going to take everything that makes the main character a vampire and throw it out the window! Sunlight won't kill him or make him sparkle."

MS: "Well, thank God for that."

CK: "And garlic and crosses won't repel him. He's not really immortal, and he doesn't really drink blood."

MS: "So...he's not a vampire?"

CK: "No, he is! See how it's different?"

MS: "Oh, I see how it's different. It's a vampire book about a normal guy. Is he at least goth?"

CK: "That's offensive."

MS: "It most definitely is. Please let that idea go to the Great Idea Farm in the sky. What else?"

CK: "If you're going to have that kind of attitude about it, I'm not going to tell you anymore."

MS: "I'm sorry. Really. Please tell me more."

CK: "You know I can detect sarcasm even in thought right? I can feel you rolling your eyes"

MS: "Of course you can. They're your eyes too. Now, what are your other ideas?"

CK: "..."

MS: "..."

CK: "..."

MS: "...are you going to tell me?"

CK: "Fine. I was thinking about writing a parody of Fifty Shades of Grey."

MS: "Oh good lord, we're going to starve."


So yeah.


This post was originally going to be very ranty because of what bullshit the corporate world is, but then I started looking up Neil Gaiman quotes, and that mellowed me out. Gaiman's the man.

Oh, and if there is anyone that reads my blog in the hopes that they'll get to see that life has taken a dump on my chest:

I guess Gaiman didn't mellow me out that much. Whoops.