The Frenemy.

I’m spending one more day in the suburbs before I “jet” back to BK with 36 pounds of new clothing from Forever 21 that I shouldn’t have bought because seriously, how many blazers does one girl need? That’s not the point. The point is that I like to do two things every time I’m home: watch On Demand television because my parents have HBO and that’s like rolling in a pile of Scrooge Mc Duck COIN/decide that I’m going to change my life when I get back and then not really make any changes.

I’m saying I’ve been hoarding free food in my stomach. 

I’m also saying that I also usually use this time to partake in my parents wine storage and answer questions from you. I like hearing from you because I’m desperately scared of bumping into kids from high school, and I think you guys are better and less aware that I used to have bangs. Send me your questions, any questions at all to my ask box or IAmTheFrenemy@gmail.com. I’ll answer some of them. I remember I got one about dry humping once that I loved, so don’t be afraid to get a little weird with it. 

Here’s a Michael Fassbender gif that fills me with joy now CUZ

No, I’m not going see NEW YEAR’S EVE EVER, YOU DIMWITS.

Retraction: I will see this movie on some blustery April night in 2012 because I watch movies on the Internet sometimes when I’m feeling bad about myself. I want my eyes to be punished! Bring on the Kutcher! However, this day is months away and I crave my Gary Marshall ensemble comedy fix right this momento, and NO! Valentine’s Day is NOT enough. I need the stronger stuff, man. I need the Zefron. Therefore, tonight I drink vodka in large quantities and imagine what this movie might be like so you guys can see what you’re missing. Here’s my fake not real synopsis:

I Present My Version of “New Year’s Eve”: 

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• I should buy another drink because if I don’t my social lubricant will dry up and die
• I can only talk to people at a certain point of drunkeness
• I’m not drunk enough to enjoy all these people I hate these people
• Goodness, I will try my damndest to reach a point of enjoyment! Cheers to wine!
• My bed is probably the most comfortable place in the world, like if a cloud burped up flannel and blessed it with cotton candy. I would like to get to this bed now.
• Law and ORDER oh god is everybody going to kill me, Ice T?
• I want every water
• One does not simply walk into Mordor, on a sidenote
• If I don’t pee right now, my bladder will probably explode and the rest of my body will have to spend the rest of its life avenging my murdered bladder
• Speaking of bladder should I squat? No, I will hover on this public toilet like my thighs are stronger than they are
• If I play this song on the subway will the world hear it? I don’t give a shit I will blast it so loud
• I’m so happy I can’t even
• Jesus, I’m so sad I might cry and die
• If I stare in the mirror it might tell me how pretty I am, because I think I look pretty. This mirror is something I will look at now
• Where’s my purse it’s gone forever
• This song is my absolute favorite I should dance to this like a weirdo
• I have to concentrate on walking now, I guess
• I don’t have anything to say to these people so I’m just grinning maniacally
• Murder
• Puppies
• Oh cool, you think that being in your twenties is hard too I guess we’ll just scream about it
• I’d rather watch Youtube than be here
• I really just want to go home and eat freebase cream cheese and toast
• Oh goodness, maybe I should just go and buy pizza and eat all the pizza in the world
• I have a brain in my head and face how weird is that bodies are so weird
• I’m going to write on this Facebook wall even though I shouldn’t
• I miss being a child
• Shots are a good idea
• Let’s giggle forever
• I bet I could fall in love tonight
• I have so much courage right now to fall in love
• I deserve to fall in love
• That guy is so cute
• Should I talk to that guy
• Well, he maybe looked at me we maybe held eye contact for like, 3 seconds. 3 seconds means he wants to have my child babies right?
• He looked away and went to talk to somebody else who is blonder than most everybody. GOOD THING I imagined our wedding in my head because now that dream is so dead
• I’m so depressed and unique
• I love everything in the world
• Shots aren’t the most disgusting vile thing in the world and a real ace idea
• My ex boyfriend I have thoughts about him
• Let’s high five so much now
• I’m going to make so many plans with my friends that I will never keep
• Maybe I should just online shop and buy boots and Rosetta Stone
• I should tweet at a celebrity like Michael Cera, who seems like he might want to hear from me
• I forget my Gmail Password
• My mom’s so great
• I’ll just text this guy now because he’s my favorite even though he should be dead
• Let me clutch my phone in my hand and stare at my phone because I’m so social and good at being social
• Did I lose my credit card? Did I start a tab? Where is all the money I have?
• I think I lost my gloves and probably my coat
• I can’t wait to go home and check my Tumblr
• Maybe somebody posted a flash mob wedding or a picture of Ryan Gosling or a bulldog
• I think I have a crush on everything
• Everything in the world
• I should get another drink, if I get a three dollar beer it’s probably not drinking at all
• I am trying to wash but all the eyeliner is melting down my face like it needs revenge on my cheeks
• I think I probably need to listen to the saddest song on my Ipod
• Or only watch the stupidest television show
• Everything is funny or stupid, no gray area
• I want to meet this girl and loudly tell her we’re so compatible and laugh and stuff
• Or tell my best friend how much I love her
• Let me also call my friend and tell her how pretty I think her face is because I haven’t texted her in forever
• I’m spending too much time in the bathroom
• Every guy is hot or so, so stupid
• Hold on, I’m gonna get into this really deep conversation about something now
• But hell, this conversation feels so important! Everything is so important!
• Don’t bum a cigarette, asshole.
• I’d like to stick my hand into a potato chip bag
• I’d like to dance around my room now
• And smile at myself
• slash hysterically laugh at everything 
• and worship the God of wine
• Fall into a deep sleep
• Chug water
• Wake up with the worst hangover ever and probs die

When you’re up this early or up this late because you can’t sleep, it’s probably a case of this—

Ipod music set to some nostalgic crap or God help me here come the waterworks, Band of Horses. You ever listen to No One’s Gonna Love You at 5am, face buried in your pillow? That shit really cleans out the sinuses. 

It’s usually a combination of things that sets this whole thing off, although that thing is absolutely never caffeine. It’s the itchy feeling in the back of your head that you are a complete failure who is floating alone on a sea of alone, only to be partially rescued by the kind of guy that won’t ever call you back after a while. Or a job that you hate. Or another shitty night at the bar. What do we pad our lonely, lonely lives with? Whiskey. Bad television. Text messages.  Okay, so why am I so serious at 4am? I’m upset. I was just laughing three hours ago, where did this come from? I’m too upset to get the usual panic, the familiar panic I get when I remember I will die. Now I’m just upset at life, which I find to be even more stupid and just as pathetic.

This is where I might open the computer for the false sense of security. For the not so alone feeling. I’ll check my email. Put my name in the WuTang Generator. If I had gotten Childish Gambino first…I would…well, I wouldn’t have done anything. I never finish anything I start! The Internet, at 5am, becomes a terribly barren wasteland of three kids on Facebook chat you don’t talk to and queued up posts of graffiti and Jon Hamm. There’s nothing there for anybody. 

I should close my computer, which I do. I know I’m not alone in feeling this shitty. And this feeling too, will pass. This is when the real monster, the real heavy hitter comes along. The evil thought. The one person who isn’t there and usually, you can stomach this. At 4…5…6am, though, on a Sunday? Man, they might as well be in your bed. They are the absence of the space to the right of your pillow. They are all the thoughts you don’t want to go back to. They are not there, and it’s pure shit. Let’s cross that option out. Unless they want to do something really romantic, like something in an airport. Then I would erase the cross I made. It’s pencil. I’m talking nonsense again. I’m up at the earliest hour talking nonsense. Missing somebody. Wondering if I should do laundry more often. Thinking I should get some plants for my bedroom window.

Also, I should maybe date. I’m beginning to sound overrlllllllly nostalgic, kind of like an old person. This is exactly why I don’t eat rice pudding, so I’m not entirely like an old person. 

I don’t really want to date. I want to meet somebody great. I’m not going to meet anybody at 6am. I do want to do more laundry, though.

Maybe things don’t suck that much. Maybe not having a lot of money in my bank account till payday is glamourous. Maybe I should go back to sleep.

Are you with me?

Don’t go back to bed. I want you to stay up for the rest of the night. I want you to wait till the light hits and it’s officially morning. This is the only cure for this, the only promise that you won’t wake up at 2pm sluggish and depressed. Let me tell you something- at 5am you are alone. It is dark and things are absolute shit and you are alone. 

But when that sunlight comes? You’re not so alone anymore. Things don’t feel so shit anymore. I’m no morning person, but sometimes you just need the day to let you know things move on, and that it won’t be so bad today. Things aren’t so bad, not at all.

Now cue that goddamn sunrise.

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If there is anything you should know about me this very moment, it’s that I floss every day. If you need to know another thing about me, it’s that every girl in the world is having more sex than I am. 

I’m not kidding. Look around you! The woman from Illinois, walking around Times Square with eight large Macy’s bags and 36 cretin children gets more sex than I do. That old couple making out in that Christmas commercial where I feel uncomfortable. The overly sexualized “NOT MY DAUGHTER” in the Lifetime movie. Every friend I talk to over a glass of wine. All of them seem to have things sticking into other things on a fairly regular basis, and here I am, wearing ratty pajamas and eating popcorn by the fistful, vagina as closed as an oyster that is closed. I’m getting no sex at all—not from the mysterious brunette who’s no good for me that I met in a bar, or from the trusty old friend that kisses my cheek and whispers ‘we shouldn’t be doing this.’  Not from Jeremy Renner, or Colin Farrell, or any other playboy you may have in mind. I don’t even have sex dreams anymore! I had a dream about me and my college crush getting ice cream and holding hands the other day! My vagina is Sally Field, standing on the table and completely on strike!

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The response has been amazing so far, but I want more! I’m hungry for pictures of you eating food. Don’t be classy or shy about it. Submissions end tomorrow at 6pm, so keep em coming!

(read my last post if you don’t know what the hell I’m yapping about)

Edit: Deadline set till tomorrow cuz I won’t have time to sort through these tonight. 

IAmTheFrenemy@gmail.com or my submit box, people. Werk. 

Yeah, so the Victoria’s Secret show was this week and whatever, it’s fine that you want to walk around with feathers coming out of your back like you are dead and date Adam Levine and have a “slammin” body (although it’s not the only type of slammin’ body one can have). It’s fine that the fashion show is filled with lingerie that in no way exists at Victoria’s Secret stores, because there it’s more for girls who like the word ‘pink’ on their ass but not in the color pink. Blah, blah, I ate veggie sausage with my hands the whole time and don’t think I’m sitting on a food pedestal high-horse, because I didn’t actually watch the show.

I didn’t watch the show because I saw a lot of girls Facebook status-ing about how they ‘needed to lose weight’ because these models have stomachs that look like window shutters. All of a sudden, Facebook was ‘a flutter’ with shit about how girls needed to go to the gym or stop drinking beer or whatever. I happen to know that I’m not immune to that kind of shit. I am not above looking at a lot of girls in bikini tops and being like ‘oh hey what’s up, muffin top’ to myself in the mirror. I am not above being like ‘oh hey, what’s this little bit of fat I HATE IT I HATE IT to my thighs. 

It also doesn’t help that it’s the holidays. I’ve been jamming eggnog down my trap like there is no tomorrow and I don’t intend on stopping, but it’s not exactly the best time for moments of ‘how to be svelte and exert self-control’ this time of year. I have no self-control. I can’t look at Michael Fassbender without imaging myself lunging at him like a bull in a china shop of sex, etc. However, sometimes I forget how much I love eating when I am staring at a little extra three pounds here and there. I fucking love food. I love eating and I am healthy and I’m not giving up my brunch eggs just because a bunch of girls talk about Adriana Lima on the Internet. I am a girl and I am love talking about eating more than I like talking about ‘losing weight’ or ‘staying fit’ or ‘toning up.’ I think about being healthy, and I think about dinner. Case closed.

Point is, it seems like the perfect time to do Pictures of Girls Eating Part II.

I did this same project nine months ago, when this blog was a baby. I simply asked girls to send me pictures of themselves eating or drinking. The response was awesome and happy, but I think we can do better this time. I want a lot of pictures, y’all. The whole point of this is basically:

-a reminder that girls like us love to eat food and shove food down our faces because it makes us feel good and it’s delicious. A reminder that girls of all sizes love to eat food and that this is healthy and enjoyable and an important part of being a person.

-also a reminder that we have chosen eating food and enjoying food rather than depriving ourselves because we don’t look like hungry, hungry American Apparel ads

-a good thing to have on your Tumblr dashboard to directly combat all the images of girls showing off their ribcages like that is the ideal woman. Hey, those girls could eat too, but they sure don’t show them eating.

-proof that there is an alternative. That there are girls out there just like you who are worried about being fat on some days but don’t forget to keep living and keep it real and truly, truly enjoy themselves. Girls who want to let go and enjoy themselves. Happy girls with happy food and not always pulling their jeans out and being like ‘what can I criticize about myself today.’

-a funny picture where we experience enjoyment of looking at yummy food and beautiful girls. Newsflash: girls look absolutely beautiful when they are eating.

-a fuck you, really. For many reasons. And mostly,

a cheers.

Send me your pictures to IAmTheFrenemy@gmail.com of you eating food and drinking drink. Pictures of you eating hamburgers or milkshakes or whatever you love. I’ll be compiling a big ass picture and doing a little writeup and put it on the Frenemy blog. As per before, if you want to put your tumblr on it or a message, that’s cool too. 

Let’s do this.