So you all know that I’m a happy girl who loves everybody and is extremely self-confident, right? Boy, have I fooled the shit outta you.
I embody the first two qualities perfectly, yes. However, I will tell you something now that you might not know yet- I go through life with a Jealousy Monkey fucking me in the ass every single moment. That being said, it may come as no surprise when I tell you that the constant butt-drilling I get leads to Jealousy becoming my dominant personality trait.
One of the things that makes my jealousy acceptable is the fact that I do not begrudge people for whatever happiness they receive from whatever it is that makes me jealous of them. I am jealous of those in perfect relationships, but I would never wish them to NOT have a perfect relationship just because I don’t. They say Misery loves company; the truth is- I prefer solitude.
I will give you just a few examples of the things that I am jealous of:
I am jealous of Carrie Underwood and her perfect face and her perfect voice, and the fact that she gets endless commercial deals despite the fact that she has the inability to choose good songs to sing with her perfect voice.
I am jealous of my friend Delightful, and the fact that she possesses one of those tiny bodies that make you want to stick her in your back pocket. She also has amazing sparkly eyes that are not poop colored, like mine are.
I am jealous of the people that own Mustangs, because I haven’t one; and I am jealous of the fact that these people have the dollars to afford the Mustangs in the first place.
I am jealous that deceased celebrities such as Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston are talked about more than I am. Why can they not have the decency to share the fame they no longer need?
I am jealous of all the excessively talented pianists on Youtube who can play Chopin’s Fantasie Impromptu, because no matter how much I try to practice it, my timing is off and my fingers do not carry enough dexterity and speed to play it properly.
I am jealous of Nicole Kidman and her porcelain white skin, because though I possess the exact paleness she does, I just look pasty and all my veins show.
I am jealous that untalented writers such as Stephanie Meyer have become household names because they had the gall to write about such ridiculous things as sparkly vampires and werewolves falling in love with infants.
I am jealous of the fact that my Rockstar’s Daughter received cuddling so much more easily from my Rockstar than I ever will.
I am jealous of Taylor Swift and the fact that her unimaginitive choices of subject matter for her songs has made her rich enough to buy a castle if she so chooses.
I am jealous of the fact that my douchebag of a former boss gets to continue working in MY bookstore, despite the fact that he hates books, and hates customers, and ogles young women, and sexually harrasses his underlings, while I slave away as a Pizza Slut.
I get jealous of people flirting with other people when I am readily available to be flirted with. This one is a bit confusing, because yes, I get jealous of the girls who are getting flirted with by men I don’t even find attractive. It IS all about me, you know.
I am jealous of those people that go around being happy all the goddamn time. I try that and find it utterly exhausting.
I am jealous of people that live in all the places that aren’t here. Sadly, if I were to move to any of those places, I would probably be jealous of the people that remained here.
I am jealous of those women (and men) who have perfect straight hair that can just wake up, run a brush through their hair, and go about their day. The fact that they can run a brush through their hair without creating an afro irks me most of all.
I am jealous of the fact that no matter how good of a writer I become, I will never be able to write lyrics as excellently as the band Black Stone Cherry.
I am jealous of Chris Meloni’s wife, and the fact that she gets to booby squish him whenever she wants.
I am jealous of women with babies, and pregnant women, and babies, and little children that are still adorable and not evil spawn from Hell.
One of the things that you all can be jealous of, though, is the fact that I have awesome readers who actually want to read this shit. 😉 XOXO
If you fooled the shit out of me, or removed it in any other manner, I would resemble one of those “inflatable dolls”, a concept I find painful. Ow, ow, ow! I’m jealous of people who post interesting, amusing blogs like this, while mine resemble the operator’s manual for a coffee maker.