You see the woman with the sharp wit, the woman that can and WILL tell anyone what they need to be told, and the woman that has learned to be strong enough to stand on her own.
What I don't always show you is the girl inside…the girl that is sometimes afraid of her own shadow, and the girl that occasionally cries herself to sleep because she's so scared that she's making a mistake and she's going to fall on her ass YET AGAIN.
I'm still the girl that will do it anyway. Because I can't afford to take the chance that it might not be a mistake after all.
In the wee hours of this morning, I was called an opinionated little bitch. Then, the Viagra posterboy told me that my blogs were mindless and unimportant. All because I denied his request for friendship and told him that I didn't like the cult-like way he ran his blogs and that I felt that he exploited women by having them write their "sob stories" on his blogs and allowing him to take all the credit for it.
It apparently pissed him off because I hit a nerve.
Whatever.
He proved my point.
I won't tell you who he is, because I'm sure that some of you read his blogs and I'd rather not start a blog war.
Douchebag: (n) An individual who has an over-inflated sense of self worth, compounded by a low level of intelligence, behaving ridiculously in front of colleagues with no sense of how moronic he appears.
I don't have a lot of money. I'm not model material. I eat sweets and drink too much Pepsi . I laugh alot with an occasional snort.My hair frizzes and looks like shit when it's humid. I have stretch marks. I am a mother to 4 kids. I'm divorced. I don't return calls when I should and I avoid calls that I shouldn't.I hate washing dishes.
But I'm real.
I may be an opinionated little bitch, but at least the only person I'm exploiting is myself.
