Five Reasons Why You Might End Up Hating Me

Well hello there!  So, you’re on my blog.  This is great news for me (you are filling my head with notions of grandeur!), but let’s discuss a few items before you decide whether it’s great news for you:

Item One: I curse. Like a lot. My own husband gets uncomfortable when I go in public (and he’s a mechanic), because who knows when I’m going to be playing with a toddler who has just kicked me in the shin, and screech out “holy fuck, bitchface!  What the fuck?!”  I can see it in his eyes sometimes, people.  He doesn’t even really allow me to be in the presence of his own (staunchly Southern Baptist) mom, because he’s that frightened.  (And let’s be honest.  He should be.)  Usually, he will wince when I’ve just cursed in front of a preacher, or his sister, or some newborn (like they can understand me), and then his eye will twitch, and he’ll be like, “Taylor.  Why must you curse all the time?” and my response? “Because fuck you.  That’s why.”

But honestly?  Sometimes you just have to.  How are you supposed to illustrate your anger (“You fucking knucklebreather!”) or your excitement (“Holy fuck!!  Underworld 4!!!”)?  Because I’m going to be honest with you.  Saying, “You gosh-darned driver, you!” does not bring me any sense of relief.  Saying, “Yay!  Gee I’m so excited for Underworld 4!” does not illustrate my extreme excitement at seeing Kate Beckinsale in a leather bodysuit, kicking ass and being all blue-eyed and awesome.  Hello.

While I will try to censor my cursing as much as possible (because I know that it’s a deal-breaker for some people), also please recognize that for every time you see me curse, I’ve already censored myself about eleventy billion times in that same post.  So maybe we can meet halfway?

Item Two: I’m blunt.  If you couldn’t tell already, I don’t typically put on a filter outside of work communications (and even that’s only to my actual clients, not to my coworkers).  Nice people call it blunt, jerks call it bitchy, and everyone else calls it abrasive.  None of those seem very positive, but I really don’t make an active effort to be anything else, and here’s why:  There is virtue in blunt.  There is virtue in being straight with someone.  I hate (and hate isn’t even a strong enough word) when people pussyfoot around a topic – or worse, flat out lie – to spare someone’s feelings.  Believe me, I want you to tell me if I’m dating a douchebag or the dress I’m wearing makes me look fat.  And if I think something is inane or hyperbolic, I’ll be one of the first ones to say so.

I tend to say a lot of things bluntly, because I always want you to know where you stand with me, as I would always want to know where I stand with you.  I will probably say a lot of blunt things here, and I do tend to be intentionally hyperbolic with the purpose of (attempting to be) humorous.  but I would hope that you could kind of read between the lines and realize that I didn’t actually drive 200 miles an hour to work today, and I don’t really want to physically strangle the life out of Paris Hilton.  (Well, I do…but I wouldn’t.  There’s a difference.)

How does this affect you?  You may be one of those people who is like, “OMG I cannot believe she talked about Rick Perry like that!  HE’S A PILLAR TO THE COMMUNITY!”  Your choices are to a) get over it, or b) go somewhere else.

Item Three: I’m intelligent.  I was Magna cum Laude (only because that one jerkface teacher gave me a C and refused to rescind it) at an amazing, small liberal arts college.  I went to graduate school at Purdue, studying Sociology and Religious Studies.  The latter is one of my favorite topics to talk about EVAR.  I love learning, I love discussing many things.  I will use many big words, and I will not apologize about them.  I never go to some thesaurus and try to beef up my posts to sound smarter, because that just seems like false advertising. Similarly, I’m not trying to be a jerk about it either, but if you’re like “why does she keep saying pedantic?!  WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!”  Look it up.  Learning stuff is good for you.  And if you know what pedantic means without going to dictionary.com, I just fell in love with you a little bit more.

Part B of this item is that I am GRAMMAR NAZI.  I once had a coworker take my official photo and put a Hitler ‘stache and Nazi gear on me.  No joke.  That’s how Nazi I got into grammar.  This is partly why I don’t understand Twitter or Jersey Shore or 85% of the internet.

That said, I play up the internet craze.  I do not expect blog posts to be constructed of all perfect sentences.  I love to use the WTFs and OMGs of this world to illustrate a point, and the other words that are terrible (see: totes) are used by me in jest (so please don’t ever think I really speak like that).  But when I see that I wrote “right” instead of “write” in a post, I will be twitchy until I can go back and fix it.  When I read other people’s posts/emails/blogs and they improperly use their, your, or any variation on such, I get a little twitchy.  Not enough to hate them forever or stop reading , because I type fast, and sometimes my brain and my fingers don’t always see eye-to-eye, so I do occasionally typo.  What I do not get is when someone will literally post three paragraphs without ever paying heed to the little red underline.  To these people, I say, Auto-correct is your friend.  (But they never listen!)

And please.  Do not EVER. Do. This: ‘Taylor….I don’t understand…”WHY” you would…ever thing I don’t…”LOVE YOU ENOUGH”….’

I will probably kill you if you do.

Item Four: I’m pretty damn liberal.  I love a good political debate, I love talking about socio-political issues with intelligent people on the liberal or conservative (or most often, the moderate side – though you moderates don’t exist if you ask the news media). I don’t love watching Fox News (unless it’s to laugh at all of it), I don’t love living in the South where being academic is equivalent to being “an elitist” (which I am always very honored to be called, but whom everyone else down here thinks is a curse word).  I don’t love driving around looking at bumper stickers where people are wallowing in their own stupidity and super-evangelical-neo-conservative mudpits and whose response to any legitimate, academic argument is to say, “Well that’s what the Bible says,” or when asked to cite their sources on why Jon Stewart is a racist, they site Fox News or Donald Trump (the latter ACTUALLY HAPPENED TO ME).  Do not even get me started.

That said, I respect any logical argument.  I have friends who are on every aspect of the spectrum, and I get along with those people just fine.  The difference is, educate yourself.  If you want to have an opinion, make it your goal to know what your opinion is, who is espousing that opinion, and why.   If you are a Republican because your parents are a Republican, you’re not a Republican.  You’re a sheep.

All of that said, I will most likely make an effort not to bring up the political or religious conversation.  I try to follow that practice of ‘what not to talk about at the dinner table’.  However, knowing that I live in the South (and that I watch the news), it’s going to come up from time to time, and I will make a mockery of the stupidity as I see fit.  Know that if you align yourself with the same viewpoint, that it’s not directed at you, but at some farcical display that upset me at the time.  And if you can’t tell the difference, you probably don’t belong here anyway.

Item Five: Social norms are bullshit.

This one is going to get its own post, but to put it succinctly, I love boys and girls.  I’m not openly stepping from a closet or whatever, because that’s not the direction I’m going here.  But I’m in love with a lot of celebrities, and half of them are women (I’m looking at you, Tina Fey and Olivia Munn!).  I will openly tell you I love you (and how much), and mean it.  I would think in this day and age, I could be like “OMG I want to kiss Rashida Jones on the mouth!” without getting eyebrows raised and my sexuality called into question, but I guess we still live in the fifties or something.  Whatever. You can get over it, or you can relish in the awesomeness of it all with me.

But we have to hold hands first.

So…did you make it to this line?  If you did, welcome to the madness, my loves.  It’s going to be a fun ride.

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5 comments on “Five Reasons Why You Might End Up Hating Me

  1. Eldon says:

    I cannot… explain adequately enough… HOW HARD I JUST LAUGHED. So hard I almost spit out my black tar breakfast smoothie, actually. This was wonderful.

    I look forward to reading more of your stuff, bitchface!

    Sincerely,
    fuckface

    Also, I love you.

    • This is GREAT NEWS. My mom is convinced that anyone who “doesn’t know me” won’t get that this is all supposed to be read in the vein of snark and with an undercurrent of jovial nature. She feels like she doesn’t know me anymore.

      Love you too, fuckface!

      Sincerely,
      bitchface

  2. […] words before eventually storming out the door (something I don’t have the heart to do. I feel Taylor Made could teach me a thing or two […]

  3. Hahahah! I nearly could have written this about myself. That’s why I mentioned censoring myself – I normally don’t bother but I hadn’t had time to read your blog yet. You’d love Ireland – for such a catholic country, they swear a LOT. My favorite? Cuntish. As in, ‘someone stole my pint, fuck that shit, that’s cuntish.’ I knew I liked ye right off, now I have five reasons!

  4. Funny I am the same way, except I stand to pee unless I had a really long day and want the intimacy and comfort of being gripped by the cold porcelain throne. Well….come to think of it…I’m not really a grammar Nazi though……… I have a spring in my step…….. like a Hitler Youth.

    All joking aside you have a cool blog

    U rock like kidney stones

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