Archive for November, 2011

Day 221: “Talk like a MotherF@*CKING Lady”

Posted in Uncategorized on November 30, 2011 by Veronica Graham

Looks aren’t everything. I can’t count how many times my mouth has turned off a guy, but I do have a full understanding of how looks can be deceiving. How awful it must have been for the good-guys-that-got-away to hear me speak when I’m having a classic VG moment. Just because my hair and makeup are on point, I have on name brand clothes and wear sexy shoes…it doesn’t exempt me from having to act like a lady. Unfortunately, the majority of my life I’ve convinced myself that I can mask my true nasty mouth by looking good. Well… Up until now.

This old lady turned into the elderly woman in Legion at the Irish bar today, starting out sweet and turning suddenly evil with a really low voice that belongs to gremlins, “but he’ll buuurrn.”  (referring to the waitress’s baby).  Then her eyes glazed over with blackness and she crawled up the wall to the ceiling hissing like an alley cat. I watched this sweet little old lady sip her Diet Coke and turn into a demon… She had nothing nice to say about her hour and 20 minute lunch spent with her friend and made sure to tell me as she waddled out the door with her fancy cain. She definitely gave me the hibbie jibbies.

In that moment I pictured myself  turning out to be like her… Old, bitter and yelling at a waitress for putting too much pepper in my tomato soup.  I can’t count how many times I have started a conversation with” You know what really pisses me off…”, or    “Can you believe what that fucking bitch said to me?!” or ” Fucking Maryland drivers suck, I’m running late again!”, or ” Fuck. Shit. God damnit…I lost my keys”.  Sure a slip up here and now is okay, but every other word out of my mouth shouldn’t be a curse word. I was worse when I was younger and remember the time my stepmom handed me a copy of Amy Vanderbilts Book of Etiquette, I scoffed at her and told her I didn’t need a fucking book on how to act like a lady. Clearly I did.

The way I see myself in the mirror is not a direct reflection of what is on the inside. For so long I thought it was okay to be a loud mouth, rude, inconsiderate of others people time and feelings. It’s not and its not that easy to turn off my potty mouth, especially when I’m upset. I would much rather be the classy bitch who can use big words and phrases like…” I’m disappointed”, or “It’s okay, you just really hurt my feelings”, or ” I don’t like it when I don’t hear from you”. I don’t give people in my life a chance most of the time- all the time. I’m so wrapped up in my little world that I feel entitled to say whatever is on my mind in public or the privacy of my home.

To this day, my dad gets anxious when my tone takes a turn for the worse. Earlier this evening I stormed out of my room pissed off and cursing up a storm, my dad was in his office playing Polish Christmas songs on his guitar and was startled by my fit of rage and asked if he was playing his guitar too loud. My heart broke. I would never discourage him from the joy he has playing his guitar. He has walked on eggshells around me so long that he can’t tell if I’m about to have a episode again and start verbally assaulting him like I have done in the past.  I love that my Dad plays his guitar, and I love hearing him play his favorite song “Only Fools Rush In” (secretly I think his rendition is the best). I’m not sure how long it’s going to take to turn this potty mouth syndrome around, but the people closest to me have been waiting patiently for me to stop making things in general so damn difficult. Well folks, today is your luck day (starting tomorrow).

Here’s to what could have been 144 Days, Veronica Graham, Ugh… I think I’m growing up.

Day 217-220: “Out of the Woods”

Posted in Uncategorized on November 29, 2011 by Veronica Graham

Lately there have been a number of men from my past coming out of the woodwork.  What’s interesting is that this is all happening at the same time… and I can’t help but be a little curious as to why.  What triggered a handful of my exes trying to get back into my good graces?  Why now?  You should know that none of these guys have any relation to each other and are from varied points of my past.

I feel like that main character in a romantic comedy- at the near-end of the movie.  You know exactly what point I’m talking about.  It’s where she stupidly wishes for some jackass to realize how wonderful she is and to come crawling to her throughout the ENTIRE movie, until the point at the almost-end when he finally does and she has an epiphany that she no longer wants him.  This is a classic formula, we saw it in Legally Blonde, Bridget Jone’s DiaryThe Ugly Truth, and He’s Just Not That Into You.  Yes, that’s me… at the almost-end of those movies… typically the epiphany comes from some extraordinary guy that secretly sweeps the main character off her feet so smoothly, she doesn’t even know it… The secret weapon?  A guy that sees the girl as being amazing just the way she is, flaws and all.  Except, it’s just me right now.  No boyfriend, no fuck buddies, no more coffee dates, and no one telling me to forget about those losers and that I’m perfect just the way I am.  However, I had ZERO inkling to call any of these guys and tell them how much I’ve missed them.

Did I miss these guys?  Yes. Did I want exactly what happened?  Yes.  So…. why am I not only super unimpressed, but PISSED OFF at these guys.  Because, boys, I saw the light in the deep dark woods.  It didn’t take some guy who loved me exactly for what I was, it took ME working to love me for who I am.  Sure, I have issues with myself… a few things I’m still working on…. OK, fine, a giant list of things I’m still working on.  But I do know what bullshit excuse for a relationship I was given from these guys I deserve a hell of a lot better.  I deserved better than dodging my phone calls, saying *insert excuse* why *insert ANY exes name* couldn’t be in a relationship with me, and lecturing me of all the ways I need to change in order to even be worth a second glance.

All I can say is thank God one of these guys didn’t contact me when I was too stupid to know I deserved to be treated- not like a princess, but with a thread of respect.  So, yes, I’m PISSED that YOU *and you all know who you all are* made your efforts to contact me.  I’m PISSED because you think I forgot about all the times you made me feel not worth being with and that I should be so lucky to even allow your golden magic dicks to fuck me.

The good news is that I haven’t even LOOKED at a guy in four days.  I’ve kept my focus on my female friends and have had tunnel vision while I’m at work: focusing on, tada!,  Work, instead of hot guys.  I believe I’ll find the guy I’m meant to be with, but I’ve realized that I can’t spend so much energy on guys and need to focus on myself instead.  So many times my friends will say that “the one” just happened… So, I’ve got to just live my life and let life happen.

Here’s to what could have been 148-145  days, Veronica Graham, Damn, One Republic, sing it for these assholes-

Day 208-216: “Thanksgiving Day All About ME!!! ME!!! ME!!!”

Posted in Uncategorized on November 25, 2011 by Veronica Graham

I am an Attention Whore.  I guess a slut would be one, why would someone spread eagle so many times if they didn’t have attention issues?  I could chalk it up to not being paid attention to as a child, being thrown out at 14, having abandonment issues, and etc.  Some of these may be true, but it’s all pretty much a moot point after a while.  I am the girl that girls hate having around, because I DEMAND the attention of men.  Yes, that’s me.  Short skirt, big wine glass in my hand, catching eyes (or just plain staring) at every hot guy that walks past me, and talking loudly.

This is something that I need to change.  This won’t be a natural confirmation, I’m going to have to consciously not SEEK the attention of men.  A couple days ago, I went to the mall to get some Christmas shopping done and a guy selling sea salts at one of those kiosks approached me.  To sell me sea salts.  However, I took this opportunity to flash him “flirting” eyes and giggle at all of his jokes that I can’t remember right now.  He ended up giving me a armload of merchandise and asked me out for a cup of coffee.

YES, YOU CAN TAKE ME OUT FOR COFFEE!  We talked and he told me how amazing I was and asked for my number.  I willingly gave it to him.

The next day at work I got upset that my former work crush wasn’t looking at me.  WHAT?!  HE doesn’t think I’m HOT with my all black uniform, nonslip shoes, and waiter’s apron?!  PSH!  What’s WRONG with him?  Yes… I asked this to a co-worker.  I shouldn’t have been surprised when I got the “Uh….” look.

The problem?  I don’t LIKE my former work crush, this ended when I realized I knew nothing about him and really didn’t care to. Also, Mr. Sea Salts texted me and I stared at his happy-go-lucky text asking to see me again and I had little-to-no desire to respond.  I ignored his text without giving it much of a thought.

So, what the hell is it? Why was I flirting with Mr. Sea Salts?  I said to myself it was to get free stuff.  OK, that’s bullshit.  Why do I care that my coworker doesn’t think I’m hot?  I have an all around issue of not being paid attention to, not being looked at, and not getting the constant validation I desire- wait, DEMAND, when I’m feeling insecure.

There was a girl I worked with once on a film set that would demand the attention of men.  She would talk loudly while playing with the child actors and look around to see what guys were noticing her.  All the ladies on set didn’t care for her and even tried to “lose” her when she was following us to the wrap party.  She was annoying, couldn’t enjoy the company of others, and would inevitably start to weep if nobody- wait, no men- paid attention to her.  This would make some knight in shining clueless “rescue” her and then she would wipe away her tears and say, “oh, it’s nothing.”  The daunting realization is that I have a lot of characteristics in common with this attention hungry girl.  She is a GIRL, while I am a grown ass woman.  That’s the difference.

So… On this Thanksgiving Day when I realized how fucking self absorbed I am, I also need to make a vow to be abstinent from being an attention whore.  I need to learn how to be comfortable just BEING in a crowd and not the center of it.  When I finally am in a relationship, I want to see only him and not every hot guy that walks past me.

Here’s to what could have been 157-149 days, Veronica Graham, how can you have a healthy relationship when you’re always taking from it and not giving back…

Day 207: 7 Examples of Why “Scruff” Trumps “Baby Face”

Posted in Uncategorized on November 16, 2011 by Veronica Graham

November… also known as Movember is the month dedicated to raising awareness for prostate cancer and other cancers that affect men. Each year male participants from all over the world start with a clean shave on November 1st and maintain their favorite style mustache until the 30th. It’s been quite a sight to see every time I enter the Irish bar…The entire male staff agreed to participate this year and it’s getting pretty hairy. Some of the guys look pretty damn hot while others look like 70’s rejects. These guys are going over the top this Movember sporting the all too familiar porn star stache, fu manchu, trucker, and the chaplin.

Personally, I find men with facial hair sexy. The clean cut look is fine and dandy, but the sex appeal of a man that can pull of a mustache is off the charts. The following is a list of the Top 7 who look better in their natural hairiness versus the Catholic school boy look.

7: James Franco. 

Mr. Franco here is the perfect example of why a little scruff adds a some “umph” to a man.  Sure, he still looks good and all in his baby bum face, but he also looks like he’d be a great looking French model with a long wig on.  The scruff makes you want to scratch your face against his as you’re making out. Making out with a real man should always leave you feeling a little tender to the touch.

6:  Bradley Cooper.

Oh Brad…without the scruff he seems like a smug Massachusetts asshole. The scruff humbles him and portrays the image of the type of guy that will take you to dinner, open every door and kiss you goodnight.

5:  Colin Farrell.

He has that boyish Homecoming King look. You know the type … not too smart and has more than likely failed math twice but is so damn cute that he gets away with it. In his scruff he seems cultured, worldly and ready to party. The best two things to come out of Ireland…Guinness and you!

4:  Anthony Keidis.

He looks more like a hipster who’s too worried about being nonconventional. He would never be caught dead in a Starbucks because of his “ideals” that he probably picked up watching a documentary. The scruff embraces his manliness. He wouldn’t give a shit if he was seen in a Starbucks because he owns a Harley and just finished having sex on the side of the highway.

3: Scott Weiland.

He looks like those guys who get confused between goth culture and vampire culture. Please don’t suck my blood…Mrs…er….? When he’s scruffy, all I can think about is catching the first flight to Transylvania to have sex in a castle hidden deep in the woods. Sure… you can bite me anywhere.

2: Joseph Gordon-Levitt.

The Frat boy look has it’s perks but his scruff takes bad ass to another realm. Please invade my dreams…

1. Johnny Depp

Johnny fucking Depp. Those warm brown are tantalizing and his lips look like they have been kissed with morning dew… the classic pretty boy. However, in his scruff I want to toss his hat to the floor, mess up his picture perfect hair and talk dirty over a glass of Macallan 55 year old scotch. Damn Johnny, how does it feel to be you?!

Now that I’m all hot and bothered I can’t help but wonder why more guys don’t keep facial hair?! I guess I’ll have to be content staring at the lads in the Irish bar and Celebrity photographs.

Here’s to what could have been 158 Days, Veronica Graham, Cheers to the month of Movember! Got Scruff?

Day 200-206: “Fairy Tales from Hell”

Posted in Uncategorized on November 14, 2011 by Veronica Graham

I worked on another episode of Nightmare Next Door last week and it was AWESOME! To my surprise I also received a call back for filming in 3 weeks! During this down time I will be coming up with new ideas on how to WOW the producers again. I’ve noticed that everything in makeup artistry comes in waves and when you catch a good one… ride it out and hope to catch another. My coworker Scotty at the Irish bar knows about my blog and recently asked me why I fell off the wagon and into the arms of two guys when I was supposed to be abstinent. I didn’t expect him to ask me that nor did I want to talk about it, but I did manage to spew out that I was tempted. “Temptation?!” he said and glared at me. “So you think God had something to do with your falling into the arms of two different lovers after making a vow to NOT have sex?!!”  He called my bluff and stated that God had nothing to do with my sexcapades before or after my vow. It was my choice to be with these men.

Looking back, I’ve noticed that I have a tendency to turn any encounter with a guy into something more than it is because I want the fairy tale. I wanted it with Mr. Nice and I wanted it with the Pathological Liar, RMM, Iago, and all the rest. I love the idea of escaping into the arms of stranger and getting lost in a moment just like the next girl, but my way of going about it is fucking insane! I know you can’t keep a relationship built on sex, but dammed if I haven’t tried. Scotty brought up a good point when we were chatting… He said that my perspective may have changed when it comes to how I see men but I haven’t fully changed my way of thinking. Luckily, I haven’t fallen of the wagon since my encounter with the sultry and seductive Pathological Liar. However, I’ve been feeling antsy lately and it worries me. Over the weekend I could feel trouble brewing inside of me and my solution to this feeling was to isolate myself from people, sleep and watch a flick about the Dark Ages.

In my thoughts I reflected back to one of my “Fairy Tales From Hell” ahem…

Once upon a time…In the Spring of 2007 I went to court with Iago because I petitioned for a Protective Order against him. I met with a Specialist and was set on issuing it because I feared him. Instead of following through with the order when it came down to the moment of truth… I denied ALL charges against him and claimed it was ALL a misunderstanding on my part. Despite ALL the drama I couldn’t bare the thought of losing him completely and I lied under oath. He was accused of the following: “Mr.__ has followed and prevented Ms. __from leaving or seeking help. He has blocked her car in, taken her car keys, cell phone and more. No contact/ No exceptions.”Any woman in their right mind would have followed through with the order if it was the truth. I was fake in the judges eyes and I knew it. He reprimanded me for wasting his time, told me to NEVER toy with the law again, and to get out of his court room.

Once the case was dismissed I met Iago for lunch and with tearful eyes apologized for almost sending him to jail. We were back on the crazy train and things only got worse. The two of us got further into drugs, and the arguments got nasty. I still couldnt muster up the courage to leave him just yet. He would become my knight in shining armor later that fall when he hired a bondsman to get me out of jail… my first and only time spent behind bars. Not quite the picture perfect romance but I thought he was “the one” and believed we could make it work.  The drama never ceased when the two of us were together, the fights were endless and the sex eventually got replaced with drugs entirely. How I ever got out of that relationshit is an unsolved mystery.

Here’s to what could have been 165-159 Days, Veronica Graham, How many red flags does it take to walk a way from a relationshit?

Day 199: “A Stripper and A Scholar”

Posted in Uncategorized on November 8, 2011 by Veronica Graham

I was talking to someone who hasn’t been there through my craziness and trying to explain it has been interesting.  There are a few main topics that come up:  My borderline (then and now), Make up artistry, and the difference and similarities between Kimmie and I.  It’s hard to explain how two friends so different have so much in common and all I can chalk it up to is that we have our own ways of experiencing the same things:

I don’t mind going to strip clubs after I hung up my stripper shoes, but I am a pretty critical audience member.  My friend, Kimmie, is also a pretty harsh critic as well.  She wasn’t ever a dancer (well, she’s a ballerina) but never a stripper. I loved that she had an appreciation for it and never judged me because of it.

Kimmie did spend a lot of time in strip clubs while she was in grad school…  I was older than her and TRYING to get a two year degree. She studied Creative Writing and would have to read at least two novels per week including piles of short stories. It was fascinating to know someone that motivated that wanted to hang out with me. She was a smart bad ass. I was taking on the world 6 credits a semester.

Guys at bars would see Kimmie sitting there with her giant book as an invitation to hit on her and she would get fed up and leave to a strip club.  Here, guys would leave the fully clothed scholar alone. I’ve wondered on many occasions why she couldn’t ever just go home to finish her work and I remember her telling me stories about being an undergrad student at Colorado State and going to a busy coffee shop that played live music to get her work and studying done.

The coffee shop was open 24 hours and perfect for a full time student’s schedule.  I think the noise conditioned her study habits in an interesting way when she moved to the east coast for grad school.  Regardless, I’m happy she’s this weirdo scholar that has an appreciation for dancers.

Back in the day, when Kimmie and I were out with guys, one of them would make a joke, “let’s go to a strip club!” waiting for a disgusted reaction from either of us.  When the guys would see we were both game, they’d either get really uncomfortable and the night would be over or they’d follow through and we’d try out either one of the familiar spots or try someplace new.  The look of the guys’ faces when we walk into a club in Arlington right outside of DC where the strippers are saying, “Hey Kimmie!  How’s it going?   How is the MFA treating you?”  or going into a club in downtown DC where I’d pull out my VIP pass for the best seats and free drinks was priceless.

Kimmie and I usually keep our critical comments to ourselves and just try to support the dancers with our dollar bills, storing in our mental database where the best looking strippers were and the ones that did the coolest tricks.  However, one evening with too many tequila shots in me, Kimmie and I went to a club with some guys in DC.  It was one that was talked about quite a bit and had a good reputation…It’s no news that my big mouth gets me into trouble, but that night, the ugliest dancer came on stage…

We’re going to fast forward a bit to the part where the stripper bent down and spit in my face… what could have made her do such a vile act?  Well, it could have been when I started to drunkingly yell, “Get that ugly stripper off the stage!”  She may or may not have said, “FUCK you!”  I may or may not have said that her vagina looked like a sea urchin… Don’t get me wrong.  I think vaginas are beautiful, but hers was abnormally external.   SO… she spit in my face.  I lost it!  I threw my drink on her and started screaming, which made the crowd cheer- cause now there was a wet stripper and a pissed off patron.  Before the girl on girl wrestling match could happen, the bouncers were on me fast and I got thrown out of the club.  I’m unsure what Kimmie did during all of this, but she has the uncanny ability to remain calm in chaotic situations.  She probably waved her finger to the waiter for the check, gave the stripper and the waiter a good tip while mouthing “Sorry,” and walked out, slowly, leaving our dates behind.  I do remember her psycho Asian death glare that said, “Try to talk to me and you’ll be walking home.”  It was the most uncomfortable silent ride of Asian fury I’ve ever been apart of.

The next morning, I called Kimmie, full of shame and embarassment.  “Hey… So, about last night-“

“That was hilarious!” She cut me off, mostly to let me know that everything was cool.  “But we’re never going there again.”  And we never did.

Now that I’m 30, I can’t remember the last time I’ve stepped foot in a strip club.  I mean, I can’t even enjoy a drink dressed up for Halloween!  The best part of that night?  Was curling up in my PJs and eating macaroni salad.  I start to wonder when I became so boring, but honestly… I kind of love it.

Here’s to what could have been 166 Days, Veronica Graham, I never thought a great night would consist of reruns and my knock off snuggie.

Day 193-198: “If your Crazy and you know it…”

Posted in Uncategorized on November 7, 2011 by Veronica Graham

Lately most of my prayers to Hey-Zeus have been about me being able to become a less selfish person, to keep my head held high despite of my shortcomings, and to give me the peace of mind that I’ve been searching for. I’ve come far in my journey of change but it’s far from over and I struggle daily with my emotions. Sifting through the bullshit in my mind isn’t as easy I thought it would be.  I find it hard at times to focus on the present and identify the difference between a healthy line of thinking and a not-so-healthy way. Hopefully I will be able to rewire my thinking process before Kimmie signs me up for a lobotomy at the local coo-coo-plant.

This borderline-disorder-shit is exhausting.  I’ve noticed that I when I become angry with someone It’s hard for me to think before I speak and I definitely don’t handle my temper well if I’m pissed or when someone else is upset with me. It could be a boss, a friend, a family member, a co-worker, or the Barista at Starbucks that is taking too long to make a fucking vanilla latte. At times I act as if I have a free pass to be crazy, I’m the only one who has the “right” to be in a bad mood or have a rough day at work. God forbid anyone lose his or her patience with me or not treat me with respect. I know what being held accountable means but it’s hard to identify where and how to mold being accountable into my life.

Usually if I upset someone I get super defensive and get mad at that person for getting mad at me. Umm….I’m aware that this makes NO SENSE, but when I’m having a moment it’s hard for me to think before I speak. I’ve gotten better over the years from what I’ve heard but I still need to come up with a better strategy when I’m in the moment. Kimmie suggested that I read more about my disorder but my pride won’t let me admit that I need a book for help or that I might need to go back into therapy to talk about things with a professional.  I’ve researched some aspects of “how to cope with BPD” on line but I don’t think I can google my way out of having BPD.

I will be shopping around these next couple of months for a therapist that doesn’t suck or hand me a stack of pills after talking to me for 5 minutes. On a lighter note, I get to work on another episode of Nightmare Next Door this week! I can’t wait for another 3 days in paradise making stab wounds and powdering noses.

Here’s to what could have been 172-167 Days, Veronica Graham, My new doctor better have lollipops and cool stickers.