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MyPMS for this month‘s menstrual cycle is really kicking my ass. I haven’t felt PMS symptoms like this since I was in my teens and early 20s. Goddammit. This sucks. That is all. Cheers, bee-yotch.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I keep telling myself over & over & over again that I should quit watching all those mind-numbing, life-draining, dumb reality TV shows on the Bravo network. I probably tell myself this at least 3 to 4 times per day. As I am scrolling through the endless list of channels & programming, I always end up at the Bravo network, at first thinking I’ll leave a show on making mindless background noise while I am doing other things, then ending up completely engrossed in the episode, being hooked on the entire season of the show.
I don’t want to be hooked on all of these random reality shows, but Bravo has a way of grabbing me with their talons & not letting go. I can’t even begin to understand how or why I get so hooked on a show that I will end up watching the entire season, so laser focused on all the details of all the puffed-up, phony drama & “family” in-fighting.
I wish I could quit, just like an ex-smoker to cigarettes. I don’t even remotely relate to, or like any of the cast members of these shows. It kills me a little more each time I turn on my TV knowing I’ll end up watching one of their shows, which will only increase their ratings & boost their popularity, which will keep them on air for far longer than they should be.
I hate the fact that I watch almost all of the Real Housewives franchises. I also dabble in a few of the Below Deck franchises from time to time. I also am extremely mad at myself for knowing who Lisa Vanderpimp is & all of her oversexed restaurant staff. And, yes, I have been keeping up with all of the Kyle-Amanda-West romance fallout from Summer House. Ugh 😩
Please, I need help to kick this bad habit of defaulting to stupid reality shows when I can’t find anything new to watch. I want to forget all of these people’s names & faces, & all of their shitty drama. I should get my drama fix by watching real & actual drama unfold on the nightly national news. These reality shows do not add any value to my life, & what really sucks is I’m probably not going to stop watching, & I have nobody in my life I can talk to about it. 😔
Until the next episode, cheers.
Song of the day:
Write about your first name: its meaning, significance, etymology, etc.
I once had to write a short essay in my high school Spanish class about how my parents chose my given name & why, then read the story aloud to the class. So, I asked my dad who was sitting at his home office desk after dinner, how he chose my name. & why.
I should preface this by saying my dad was under the influence of a few glasses of post-dinner vodka. Yup, my dad was not quite sober when I decided to ask him a very serious question for my school homework assignment.
I couldn’t believe how he could try to keep a straight face while giving me a completely bullshit answer. As I kept asking him if what he was saying was the truth, he started cracking up. What was the story he made up about the origin of my name? Well let me tell you it was weird.
Let me start by saying if you’ve been paying attention to my username/handle, & you know an intermediate amount of Japanese vocabulary, then you can pretty much guess what my name is (or at least half of it). So, my name sounds like a Spanish name, but my family has no ties to any sort of Spanish culture or ethnicity. My entire family tree is as oriental as you can get. However, when my dad immigrated to the United States, he landed in San Antonio, Texas & immediately fell in love with Tex-Mex culture. That’s probably the real reason he chose a Spanish-sounding name for me. The story he told me?
Well, well, well. My dad (who had been a banker his entire professional career), told me that the first known lesbian he ever worked with had that first name. He went on to say he greatly admired that coworker (but did not elaborate on why), & that he liked the sound of her name, so he chose it for my name when I was born.
No matter how many times I asked him to tell me the truth, he stuck to that story. I even asked my mom if she knew why my given name was chosen, & she had no clue whatsoever. All she could say was that she let my dad pick my name at birth. I don’t know why I never questioned my dad again about it. Was it pure laziness on my part? Most likely. Was it a bullshit story made up by a man whose liver was soaked in a potato-based alcohol? Absolutely.
I ended up using that story for my homework assignment, but I embellished the story a little bit, mostly to fit the length requirement of the essay. I don’t remember what I wrote or what I ended up saying in front of my classmates, but I do remember my utter embarrassment in having to use that as my name origin story.
My dad has been out of the picture for 14 years now. So, I guess I will never know the true story of how I got my given name. That’s ok, though. I have kind of grown into liking my dad’s made-up farce of a backstory. It’s quirky, & that’s kind of cool. That’s all. Until the next one, cheers.
Song of the day:
Rabbits & Foxes 
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