The Wondrous World Of Not Being A Bitch

Bitch.

That's a loaded word, right?  It's one of those "we've taken it back!" words that is now totally overused.

I personally enjoy the word "bitch" most when spoken by Aaron Paul on "Breaking Bad".

If you've never seen Breaking Bad before, you can see here that it's a jaunty show about magnets.

Man, Aaron Paul is adorable.  But moving on...

I don't understand why so many women nowadays think it's empowering to call themselves "a tough bitch."  Isn't being a tough woman good enough?  

Why do we have to use this negative word? 

Is it because we are "taking it back"?  And what on Earth does that even mean?  Taking WHAT back?  No one owns the word "bitch".  No one stole it from someone else.  It's public domain people, it's free to be said by anyone.  You're not the Robin Hood of swear words cause you're using it.

Don't you dare lie to me and say you didn't have a crush on this guy when you were 10.

It seems to me that "taking back" a rude slur like BITCH (or other much more severe words) really means you are allowing those morons who used this word to insult you to win.  

It's laying down dead- feeling like it's easier to accept the word than to fight against the tireless throngs of chauvinists who are calling you a bitch just because you said you weren't interested in driving 45 minutes to their house at 11:00 pm on a Thursday to play beer pong.

Is that really what we want?  Do we wanna walk around designating ourselves as BITCHES just because we are tenacious, candid, decisive women?  

And isn't it way more fun to brainstorm a list of awesome adjectives to describe yourself like "tenacious" than to say, "I told Randy that I didn't have time to make his copies cause I was busy with my own work... I guess I'm just the office BITCH." 

Yes, people are nasty and will label you with this word because your decisions put their panties in a bunch.

Yes, a lot of the time it will be because they are simply uncomfortable with how strong-willed you are.

And yes, some of the time it will be because you are being an asshole.

I'm just being real, ladies.  We can be jerkweeds too.

Acceptance of the word can transform into acceptance of the behavior the word elicits.

It's hard out there for the ladies.  We all know that.  And if you're a dude and you think life's easier for us just because sometimes we get free drinks due to our big boobies... I'll trade you my big boobies for your bigger paycheck.  Still interested?  Didn't think so.  Sometimes it can feel like we have to wear a lot of armor in order to protect ourselves against the army of bullshit that charges at us everyday.  

No please, explain to me again how my HMO covers Viagra but not my birth control pills.  I'm listening.

That being said, I am a woman who once fell victim to "taking back" the word bitch and in turn, allowed myself to just flat out BECOME A BITCH.  OH man... was I ever a bitch!  (It had a lot to due with my short lived stint of being a MySpace girl.)  I thought I was being strong... I wasn't.  I wasn't being honest, diligent and direct... I was being sarcastic, bitter and cold.  I picked fights and rolled my eyes at every chance I got.  I blew off my guy friends who had always treated me with respect because I didn't want to be 'sleeping with the enemy'.  I made myself as hard as I possibly could.  

...And I hurt a lot of people's feelings.  People who didn't deserve it.  All in the pursuit of "taking back bitch"... of trying to prove how TOUGH I was.

As time went on and I grew and life took it's punches at me, I learned... you don't have to be a bitch to prove that you're strong.  On the contrary, the times I felt the strongest and gained the most respect from others were when I mustered up all the humility I had inside of me and told someone that I was wrong, or kept myself level-headed and patient when I was incredibly upset.  

You wanna REALLY freak out a man? Admit that you were wrong when you were wrong.  

HOLY shit they look at you like you just made your reveal on an episode of THE SWAN!  

Sorry for reminding you about this.

It feels delicious to free yourself of pride and to take your armor off.  Armor weighs a freakin' TON, man... who wants to be walking around town wearing that shit?  Let it go!  You don't need it!  ...Why?

Because you are already strong without it.  

You survive as a woman in a world where being born a girl instantly puts you at a social disadvantage.  

You have menstrual cramps every month.  

You put up with assholes in college grabbing your ass.  

You hold your head high through your middle school awkward phase.  

You hug your boyfriend when he cries.  

You take care of your parents. 

You push another human being out of your vagina.  

You run a marathon.

You work hard to get a college degree.

You stand up for your children.  

You get your bikini line waxed.  

You balance your bank account.  

You get promoted.  

You speak your mind.  

You say "no".

You vote for whoever the hell you want to vote for.

You give to people who need help.  

You mow your own lawn.  

You drive the moving truck.  

You run six blocks to catch a bus in four inch heels. 

You are nurturers while being bread winners. 

 Be confident in knowing that you are a strong willed, hard working, loving, mature human being. 

That is enough.  

YOU are enough. 

So let's all challenge ourselves to let go of the word BITCH for a while and see how it makes us feel?  

I bet we feel better!

If not, feel free to come back and bitch at me.

This was at our "middle school" costume party back at college.  I went as a middle school bitch circa 1996.  Nailed it.

LEARN FROM ME,

Lindsay

"Moving builds charact-" Please shut up and just sit on this box so I can tape it.

I am 27 years old and I have called 17 different places home.

I'm not even talking about a room I rented for a summer gig or anything like that.  No sublets, no temporaries...

I have LIVED in 17 places.  Signed leases.  Filled up drawers.  Put stuff on the walls.  17 different places that were SUPPOSED to be permanent until life got to the end of a chapter in Choose Your Own Adventure:  Lindsay's Life and decided to"take the mysterious, winding pathway towards the wizard's castle" instead of "sit under apple tree."

What I'm trying to say is, your life only has 22 possible endings.

"Moving builds character!"  Is what people who have moved less than ten times in their life will tell you.   Sure, it builds character... it also builds stress, anger, debt and a resentment for the human race.  But let's go through this step by step so that we all can appreciate just how much of an emotional roller coaster moving is.


You will lose a large number of material items that you felt a strong emotional connection to.  And it's gonna be really sad.  You will tear apart boxes looking for something that you've held onto since you were a child.  Maybe something your Grandmother gave you that was small and worth no money... but it's emotional value was priceless and you thought you'd have it forever.  You'll lose things like that.  I've lost countless keepsakes, cards, jewelry, pictures and gifts... and I haven't forgotten about any of them.
But the silver lining to this heartbreaking feeling is that you will learn that things are exactly that... things.  It's just a seashell sitting on your chest of drawers.  Losing the seashell doesn't mean you lose the beautiful memory attached to it.  The memory is what is truly important.

You will learn to read the small print in contracts.  I hate to say it, but even if they don't intend to... most brokers, movers, truck rental agencies, cable companies, electric companies, supers and landlords are all out to swindle every last cent from your bank account.  ALWAYS read the small print and feel like a boss in the process.

You will have moments where you resemble a screaming, angry, bloated, middle aged Wall Street guy.   Those people who are out to swindle you?  After your first few moves you'll start catching them in their tracks.  And you will have a lot of fun calling them out on their bullshit.  Moving, and dealing with these people, really helped me to grow a set of girl-balls and start standing up for myself.
If you are blessed with loving parents, you probably will go through high school and maybe even college with them sticking up for you and fighting your battles.  But then you hit your your twenties- and then it is time to learn how to tell the movers you hired on Craigslist that no, you will NOT pay another $100 for the extra mover because they never told you that each additional mover cost an extra $100.  They are scamming you.
Stand up for yourself when someone is trying to have one over on you.  Stand your ground.  Say "NO".

No, Dymetrious Papinaou you will only get the 25% broker fee we ORIGINALLY DISCUSSED!!!

You will realize that you are able to lift far more weight than you ever thought you could.  I will heave and haw when I am carrying two bags of food home from Trader Joe's... But when I was moving out of the condo I lived in with my ex without any help I was suddenly able to maneuver 75 lbs boxes to and fro.  It makes you feel like Superwoman.

You will find out how disgusting you really are.  Ever want to feel like you belong on a self-help show on TLC?  Move your bed away from the wall and take a looksy at what has accumulated underneath it.  Don't say I didn't warn you.  

Trust me, I'm GONNA NEED that Cra-Z Art 250 Piece Deluxe Art Set SOON!

You will have a new found love and appreciation for your friends and family.  I watched one of my friends parallel park my moving truck, I witnessed my 50 year old dad carry my new 100 lbs Ikea dresser up four flights of stairs, I've been given all sorts of odds and ends from loved ones trying to fill my homes with things that I needed.  I have been amazed at the favors people will offer up to you for no other reason than their love for you.  This is an incredibly life-affirming part of moving.  Bask in it.

You will learn that you CAN save money.  I know I'm NOT the only one out there who has been overheard saying, "Ugggggh I NEED to start saving moooooneeeeey," while sipping on a $4.00 chai tea latte.  Look, it's what we do day to day.  But have you ever realized that when you have a move rapidly approaching you can find ways to save $3000 in four months, when you were never able to do so before?  If none of us truly possessed the skill to save money than none of us would ever move.  Ever.  I remember this anytime I get overwhelmed by money.  I remind myself of all those times I have been able to buckle down and fork out first month's rent, last month's rent, security deposit, broker's fee, moving truck, plane ticket and still manage to have my $4.00 chai tea latte.  We are ALL CAPABLE of saving money.  It still sucks though.

You will lose weight out of nowhere.  It's true!  Maybe it's the saving money and not eating big lunches, maybe it's the lifting boxes, maybe it's sweating out the weight having anxiety dreams... but yeah, you're probably gonna shed a few pounds.

You will be presented with great challenges and you will overcome them.  You know why?  Cause you have to.  That's a lesson my mother taught me at a young age.  "Things will be okay because they HAVE to be okay."  Read and repeat that to yourself.  "Things will be okay because they HAVE to be okay." Nothing is going to happen to you during this move that will ruin your life.  You will not end up living out of a cardboard box.  Just stand your ground, grow up, work hard and take big breaths.  Get ready for a FABULOUS feeling of self-satisfaction afterwards.  You have just finished something that is extremely difficult.  You have achieved a goal.  Congratulations, you are AWESOME!

One of those amazing friends I was talking about took this photo of me the day I moved into my current apartment.

LEARN FROM ME,

Lindsay

PS:  Think I'm full of shit with the moving 17 times thing?  Chew on this, sucka!

Lindsay Has Lived....

My parent's first home in Maplewood, NJ.  This house was adorable and had a pool and a stairway that split into the kitchen and living room- making it almost as awesome as the Full House house.

My family's first home in Washington state.  This was a classic, brand new, yuppy home on the top of a cul-de-sac.  It was breathtaking.  And it was haunted with what I THINK were ghosts of American Indians.  But cul-de-sac 4th of July parties are worth the price of a few apparitions.

My mom's apartment she rented after my parent's separated.  This was the only time I ever had to share a bedroom with my little brother.  "Poor little upper-middle-class girl," I know right?

Both of my parents got their own homes approximately one mile away from each other after they divorced.  This put me in the "rich kid" school district, which I did not fit in well with.  This was around the time I really got addicted to the internet.

Then, both my parents moved AGAIN when my mom got re-married.  Into two brand new, housing development "little boxes" homes.  Again, one mile away from each other.

My dorm.  Another haunted home of mine.  This one was even scarier.

My first apartment in the ghetto of Pittsburgh.  The first time I saw water bugs and centipedes.  Dear my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ PLEASE never let me see them again.

My second apartment, across the street from the first.  With two of my best girlfriends.  My bedroom door didn't have a handle on it- you had to jimmy it open with a key.  God, college is awesome.

My first apartment in NYC after graduation.  I moved back to Pittsburgh after only a few months to be with my first real-deal boyfriend whose name was Ian.

Ian's apartment in Pittsburgh.  My first time living with a boyfriend.  

Ian and my first disgusting apartment in Chicago.  Also known as the place we got bed bugs.  Seriously the worst thing ever.

Ian and my second apartment in Chicago.  This place was a dream.  A condo in a luxury building!  A swimming pool!  A view of the city AND the park!  A 24 hour concierge!  But then we broke up.  Bye Chicago!

My Dad's new condo.  I moved back in with them to figure out my life.  Living with your parents is challenging when you haven't done it in seven years.

My triumphant return to NYC with my best friend Jordan.  We had a beautiful apartment and amazing times in it.  This was a real home.  It was lovely.  Then Jordan left for the opportunity of his life on the Mary Poppins tour.  And it was time to get my own place.

My home now.  Another dream.  A gorgeous studio in a new building.  There's no furniture in it, but it's all mine.

Things Lindsay Sucks At:

 I was on Danielle LaPorte's website the other day and found an entry of her's about owning up to the things you suck at.  How it can be empowering to declare, "Hello Universe, this is something I struggle with and I am not going to pretend like I don't notice it anymore!" If we can own those icky little habits of ours, it will be easier to "OWN" them, ya know?  To hold ourselves accountable.

 Danielle LaPorte is amazing.  I just got into her recently and I recommend her page highly.  

That being said, I would like to take this chance to publicly proclaim an abbreviated list of things Lindsay Sucks At.

PICKING UP MY MAIL

I will walk past my mailbox every single day and glace at it while I wait for the elevator.  I know there's things in there that I need to read.  I also know I will probably see a bunch of bills that will put me in a sour mood.  So, instead of just opening the dang box and taking the mail upstairs with me I go on my merry way and ignore it.  I tell myself I'll get it tomorrow.  Then I repeat exactly what I had done that day.

MEETING NEW PEOPLE AT PARTIES

I am 100% completely capable of doing this.  I am not rude to new people, I don't shut down... I just tend to only give 50% of myself when meeting new people at events.  Why?  Because I am SO BLESSED with an abundance of UNBELIEVABLE friends in my life as it is.  My brain pretty much just puts up a "NO VACANCY" sign in the friend department when meeting new people at parties.  Not at work, not in shows, not in school... just at parties.

DOING MY LAUNDRY REGULARLY

I own a lot of underwear.  Enough said.

GETTING "ON THE BANDWAGON"

Harry Potter, Avatar, XBox, Happy Endings, In The Heights, ... these are all things that the ENTIRE WORLD has told me I am SURE to fall in love with and I refuse to let myself get involved with.  I honestly have no idea why I do this.  It's like some dark side of my brain thinks it's being rebellious by not allowing myself to enjoy things that other people enjoy.  What is that?  Also, not having read Harry Potter has gotten me in actual fights with people before.  That's been kinda funny, I'm not gonna lie.

GIVING UP CONTROL

This is a new, fun sucky thing for me since I began living on my own!  I have a hard time believing that someone else is going to be able to follow through with what needs to be done if something is at risk.  I won't let them just take the reins and go with it- I have to be on their booty every step of the way like a drill sergeant checking off a to-do list.  Attractive, right??

MONEY

Money scares me.  This is one of the saddest sentances a 27 year old adult has ever written, but it's true.  It makes me nervous and makes me feel like I'm not good enough because I don't have more of it.  I want to do that thing Joey did in "Friends" with books that scared him- I just want to put all of my bills in the freezer so that they go away forever.  Totally an adult decision, I know!!

PAYING ATTENTION TO ONE THING AT A TIME

....While I type this, I am watching Law and Order SVU and also texting.

There's plenty of things I'm GREAT at (90s TV theme songs... sticking to my goals... etc...) and I haven't forgotton those at all, don't worry... I'm not hating on myself or anything LiveJournal-y like that...

I simply forgive myself for being so damn sucky at these things, and I make the promise to myself and to the universe that in this upcoming year I will try my hardest to get better at them.  

...That felt good.  ;-)

LEARN FROM ME,

Lindsay

Oh Dad, You Were Right All Along... (dammit)

When I was little and my awesome dad would be attempting to give his brassy daughter some much needed, wise advice he would often say to me, "LEARN FROM ME, Lindsay..."  
I can still hear his voice saying it in the kitchen while I slathered my Thomas' English Muffin with butter before leaving for High School.  I was sooooo much smarter than him.

I was 17!

I knew about heartbreak- My online boyfriend and I had broken up only four years ago!
I knew about money- I had a part time job at a sandwich shop (which my father got for me)!


I was an ADULT, dammit and I wanted to make sure he knew it!
Advice from someone who loved me and basically lived just to make sure my life would turn out spledidly?  Pfffffft!  I'll listen to my giggly 17 year old girlfriends, thankyouverymuchDAD!

Lookit that man.  That is a man who knows a thing or two about the right way to get to the mall.

As I've aged - 10 years since then - I feel like one of the GREATEST lessons that life (and Dad) has taught me is that it's OKAY to ask for help.  And it's OKAY to take and use someone's advice.

It doesn't mean your initial, gut decision was wrong- simply that the people who love you are giving you advice because they want what's BEST for you- THEY'RE loved one.

It doesn't mean you are immature and stupid- to the contrary, I've delightfully found many people to be quite impressed when I'm able to go to them and ask their opinion.

It doesn't mean you're weak and unable to fend for yourself- big fat, stinking nope all over that one.  That feeling of "weakness"?  I personally think that's PRIDE trying to make a sneaky getaway out of your body.  And you know what?  Let it go.  PRIDE is like that crappy college boy who always made us feel insecure and "less-than".  Oh we kept that boy around- we thought we NEEDED that boy.  We cried and felt uncomfortable when he left us for another unknowing Freshman girl.  But in the end, you were BETTER OFF WITHOUT HIM.  That's PRIDE.
Let pride go, drink some Franzia with your girlfriends and feel GREAT the next day.


I now make it a point to always ask people for advice- much to Dad's excitement.  Because everyone's life has taken them on different journeys- so by asking someone else for their thoughts on the situation you can LEARN FROM THEM.  Learn things you would have never known otherwise...

It's kinda like the first time you ever played The Oregon Trail with your cool babysitter- they were seasoned pioneers who knew to NEVER caulk and float your wagon.  If they weren't there beside you to offer such sage advice you would have CLEARLY lost that deck of cards you bought back in Town.  And WHAT would Bob, Phyllis, Alexander and Rochelle do without that deck of cards?

"Avoid all these dramatics and just take the damn ferry!" Is what Dad woulda said.

Now I know whoever is reading this might be like, "Okay #1 this Blogger template is pretty crappy, Lindsay.  And #2 But what about making your OWN decisions and taking CHANCES and getting your OWN hands dirty in the process???"

And to that I say- Yup!  You can do that too!  I've gotten my hands dirty all across this US of A.  I've heard the advice and laughed it off.  And sometimes it's paid off to do my own thang and not play by the rules.  And sometimes I've fallen flat on my ass.  I don't think either way is the wrong way.  I just believe you have nothing to lose by asking advice, or listening to others' stories.

Each person you meet in your life is like a full set of Encyclopedia Britannica- so why not just soak up as much of that knowledge as you can?

Ohmigod remember this guy?  See HE is someone who should have taken his friends' advice and not worn that denim button up.

That's why I started this little Blogger.  Because maybe one of my friends or some random person who accidentally typed in this domain name will read one of my harrowing life tales and be able to relate- or be able to take something away from what I've lived and learned.

Well, that and the boredom.  The boredom is part of the reason I'm doing this, too.

(See?  If I was taking people's advice right now I'd be reading The Hunger Games instead of writing this blog.  Fools!  Mwahahaha!)

So yeah, anyway...


LEARN FROM ME,
Lindsay