As everyone clearly knows, I am obsessed with Hello Kitty. I wonder if secretly I am Asian and my parents have been pulling the wool over my eyes for years. After all.. I was born in Thailand, but I digress. My Hello Kitty obsession is epic. I become fixated on a Hello Kitty object and cannot let go till I own it. Right now I am hunting for the perfect Hello Kitty license plate cover. So far no luck. But I did stumble upon something so wonderfully kittylicious, that I froze my credit card in a ziplock bag as not to order it online.


What may you ask is so fan-kitty-tastic? It is the Tarina Tarantino Hello Kitty Bride Necklace! Oh how I love it. Number one, I am and have always been a pearl girl. I have strands and strands of pearls. White, champagne, chocolate, pink, blush, black.. I love pearls. Second I love Hello Kitty! The combination of Hello Kitty and pearls is so much of a win win for me that when I saw the necklace online a gleaming light shone upon my head and angles sang in my ears. Yes! I MUST have this necklace.

It is called the Pink Head Bride Large Pearl Necklace! The website describes it as “an amazing cuture=styled adjustable necklace with extra large mulit-toned Italian glass pearls, a 2.5” crystal framed Lucite Pink Head Bride pendant, and a satin ribbon tie at the back sprinkled with a wash of Swarovski crystals.. Ok so basically costume jewelry. I was just about to hit the “Order” button…. When… I noticed the PRICE.

It is $400! Are they CRAZY! There is NO WAY I am going to pay $400 for fake pearls. I mean come the hell on! FAKE PEARLS! I don’t care how eloquently the website described them. They are FAKE PEARLS! FAAAAAAKKKKKEEE PEARRRRRRRLLLLSSSS! Not real pearls.. Not cultured pearls.. Not freshwater pearls.. FAKE PEARLS! I did the calculations on the materials used to make this necklace. Ribbon= $10 (and I am being generous) Swarovski crystals $50 tops (again being generous) Fake Pearl Necklace $20 at best and lastly the Hello Kitty pendant $20. This necklace most likely costs $100 tops to produce. I understand retail mark up, but pluheze! $400 bones for this piece of fashion jewelry? Even I cannot bring myself to pay $400 for this necklace on principle alone. I just can’t. Recession be damned. I just can’t take part in the highway robbery Tarina Tarantino is conducting. I can think of a million other things I would rather spend $400 on. Instead, I am going to utilize my creativity and reproduce this necklace on my own. I am rather clever when it comes to jewelry but the difference between the one I am going to construct and the one by Tarina Tarantino is, mine is going to be made with REAL PEARLS! Pictures to follow.




People are getting on my damn nerves!


I love when people give you unsolicited and just as unwanted advice. Or worse yet.. Their opinions! Shut the hell up! Yes.. This blog is going to be a ranty angry rambling blog, bear with me if you will.. When did it become acceptable for people to share every single opinion they have on topics they know NOTHING ABOUT? Fox news is notorious for this but the trickle down effect has permeated society. Random people are always handing out their opinions like Halloween candy. Look.. I do NOT CARE what you think. If I DID I would have ASKED “Hey.. What do you think”. Since I KNOW I did not.. Don’t tell me! Sheesh. I just want to sew people's lips shut. However, I choose the less invasive alternative and walk away.




This all has to do with why people make me feel like I have to JUSTIFY my divorce. Don’t judge me as if I am a quitter or I didn’t try hard enough or I should give him more chances to grow up. Look.. You didn’t walk in my painful shoes. Shoes that pinched my toes, caused calluses, and rubbed my heels raw. You don’t know what goes on behind closed doors! People can be ever so charming to people they don’t live with. It is easy to keep up the fa├žade outside the home. Even Ted Bundy was a charming handsome devil, however examine his track record. Exactly. So don’t give me that pitying look and tell me I should seek counseling. Uh.. I am a psychologist and in my estimation I sorta know when it is time to throw in the towel! People do NOT change! Do not fall for this fairytale. People DO NOT CHANGE! They just don’t. They may modify their behavior for a little while and when it is safe they revert back to the asshole they always were.



I am absolutely sick of people telling me about MY LIFE. I am tired of chalking up the Reader’s Digest version of G’s sins and watching awe dawn over their faces as their opinion of the situation changes. Why do I need to JUSTIFY how I live my life? Why is it SELFISH of me to want to be happy alone? I am not a swan. I don’t need a life partner to survive. I need a man like a fish needs a motorcycle. So people.. Stop telling me what a great guy he is, or what a catch he is or how you are shocked it didn’t work out. Keep your Fkin opinions to yourself and I will stop appalling you with the reasons why I am happily divorced and why G is such an incredible selfish asshole. Stress HAPPILY as I was MISERABLY married. Rant Over.


Confession 2713.. I am the woman that wives fear. I am the co-worker who others secretly resent but never confront. I am the chick male co-workers always compliment and attempt to sleep with. I am the co-worker that seems to always get away with murder without repercussions. I am.. The office seductress.

As far back as I can recall, I have *always* garnered favor with my boss. Male or Female. Gay. Straight. It never seems to matter. The first official job I held, I ended up sleeping with the manager. Yep. We did it. A whole lot actually, right by the Fudgie the Whale ice cream cake pans. The things we did with chocolate and those delicious cookie crumble bits from Caravel! Buuuuuut.. We were both college students. So perhaps this delicious liaison is excused. The rest of my college years, I used my allure to get the prime bar shifts, the best schedules, and when I wasn’t in the mood the luxury of leaving early. Did this pattern stop after graduation? Umm.. Sadly no. I have am intoxicated with my own power and use influence over the boss to get my way. I mean.. Who wouldn’t if they could get away with it?



Over the years, I may not have exactly slept with my managers or supervisors, but I have used the carrot on the stick to get my way. With NO SHAME! This trick has works pretty damn well too. Manipulation comes naturally to me. I don’t even have to plot or plan. It is just too easy. I am convinced it is one of my talents. Rarely has my charm not succeeded in cushioning my work experience. The crux of this tactic is to never actually have sex with anyone. Just give the illusion like one day they might actually get it. Women are not immune to my tactics either. This has never ever ever ever come back to bite me on the ass. Never ever ever ever ever. I suppose I am just so damn good at it. I can navigate the cooperate world like Magellan and come out unscathed. Do I sound cocky? Well. I AM COCKY. Residing on the top of the food chain for years has given me a certain caviler attitude I can’t seem to shake.

Soooo well. I just started a new job. When I was hired my direct supervisor was a woman. No problem. YESTERDAY I found out I will be working for a man. Not just any man. AN ATTRACTIVE. SINGLE. MAN. Danger Will Robinson Danger! I can’t wait to see how this pans out. It is not like I am going to go to work with an agenda of wielding control over my supervisor, butttttt I am sure eventually it will happen. It always does. I know the signs. He spent much more time chatting me up than he did any of the other new hires. Second, he shook my hand with both of his, then held on to my hand entirely too long. It is all in the eye contact too. I can tell he is on the hook. All I have to do is reel him and I will be well on my way to coming in when I feel like it, pay raises not exactly on merit, a better parking spot, long leisurely lunches, time off, and a bevy of other perks. The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. Too bad I have no intention of curing this condition. I am perfectly happy with it. You shouldn’t get your meat where you make your bread. Unless you are a master chef like yours truly.

I was born in the year of the Ox. No joke. It is on my birth certificate. “Born in the year of the Ox” Although a proud Scorpio, I do cling to Chinese astrological ideology as well. Being born in the year of the Ox means I have a high propensity for working hard. This quality has served me well for years. In college I made hella bank working as a bartender at night, yet still getting my ass out of bed to make morning classes. I think there is something addictive about making money. The more you make, the more you want to make. Even as an adult, I always have some sort of side hustle going on at all times. I sold Ebay, worked for a catering company, worked retail… All while maintaining a day job. Financial security is extremely important to me. What is ALSO very important to me is buying whatever I want whenever I want without having to shift around bills, eat rice for weeks, or do without electricity. Soo.. I work like a maniac.




During my unfortunate ill fated marriage, my spendaholic social climbing leech took advantage of all of my hard work and good spending habits. Like this LV trash bag, he was placed on the curb for garbage collection.  On the other side of liberation, my workaholic tendencies have kicked in full force. Currently I have 3 jobs. Yes. 3 jobs! Even I am shocked I manage to hold down 3 jobs. Do I need to work this much? Uh.. Not really. I am goal oriented. The faster I have a specific amount of money saved up, the faster I can leave Texas FOREVER. That is motivation enough to work 24 hours a day seven days a week. In theory I CAN work 24 hours a day if I wanted to.

My close friends are horrified by how much I work. But.. Well.. I don’t have much to do anyway. Willie is gone. I never really bonded with anyone here. I can always DVR my beloved reality tv shows. So why not work? Many weeks I am working 7 days and sometimes my hours range from 7 am to 11 pm. I don’t mind. With every billable hour I put in, it puts me one step closer to the East Coast. On the OTHER hand.. I also have a mini-sub goal. Last year my lack luster pimp of a ex didn’t do anything special for my very special birthday. I have NO idea why I expected anything from him considering during our so called marriage he has never bought me one single gift for anything. Occasionally I would get grocery store wilting sad ass flowers and a card he wouldn’t even sign. (Sidebar- I burned all of those cards in his enormous BBQ pit he HAD to have. Tee hee hee). SO this year I decided to buy a 5 carat diamond tennis bracelet. Why you ask? Because I work hard and I want it. A blog about the utter awesomeness of this bracelet to follow.