You know those mental breakdown scenes in movies or TV shows? Those moments when people just completely lose their shit?
I will use RHONJ as an example. Specifically "THE SCENE." Aka one of the best moments in the history of reality TV. Aka possibly/probably of all time.
Aka...the table flip.
Yeah. So this was me the other day.
Or at least it was in my head. So no, this didn't actually happen.
But if my life was a movie, it would have. But then right after this moment, someone would tap me on my shoulder and I would do that weird *snap back to reality* head twitch, and what actually happened would be shown.
*FYI this is why Bravo is a fucking treasure. Because this actually happened....when RHONJ (and OC, and BH) franchises used to actually be good. I miss the table flipping, leg throwing, wine tossing RH days. ANDY ANDY...KATHRYN. (#Junejunehannah)...If you get it, you get it.*
Since this blog has become my quintessential medium for oversharing...in case you didn't know, I basically spend all my time in the bathroom. I'm not going into major detail...but yeah. That is my life.
I guess that in itself is going into major detail. Oops.
So...a couple days ago I had to go to CVS to pick up a few things. And...SHOCKER...had to use the bathroom.
...I'm not exaggerating this whole bathroom thing. My favorite places to go/places I DO go directly correlate to the access/cleanliness of their bathroom. If I have to run multiple errands, it's bathrooms...not distance, that dictate the route of my trip. Think I'm kidding? I'm not. Hashtag living my best life. FYI, movie theaters have THE BEST bathrooms. They are clean, there are MULTIPLE stalls, AND you get to smell popcorn while you pee. If that's not heaven, then I don't know what is.
Okay...that sounded weird.
I hope you know what I mean. If not...then this is extremely fucking awkward.
"Siri...play Cringeworthy by Ariana Grande."
Oops. I guess that's not an actual song. Sorry. Just a generalization of her music. Or Lena Dunham's acting career. #mybad
HOWEVER...it's not exactly like I can pop into a movie theater bathroom unless I'm actually AT the movies.
So...honorable mentions go to Starbucks (clean), Target (close to the front access), and Westwood's (just because...well...it's WESTWOOD'S and everything there is perfect). I'm gonna throw Oggi's in there too. But that's just because they have a full length mirror to take a fantastic selfie, and the chicken parm and Tiramisu are nothing short of an orgasm in your mouth. OH! And 13 Prime. Best creme brulee ever.
Okay, now I'm just getting distracted with food. And now seriously craving creme brulee. Also that spicy lobster. FUCK.
...Back to bathrooms.
So, my roommate has a skybox at our local event center. What does that have to do with bathrooms? Why thank you for asking. Step into my office and let me explain.
SKYBOXES HAVE THEIR OWN BATHROOM!!...I'm 99% sure finding this out was the highlight of my year.
Every time I tell this story everyone stares at me like I'm an idiot. Apparently it's common knowledge that skyboxes have their own bathroom.
WELL APPARENTLY NOT SAMANTHA, BECAUSE I DID NOT KNOW THIS.
Apparently this is why people get skyboxes? Or at least part of the reason.
...I just thought it was for the booze.
Anyways. Back to my CVS story. I don't normally go to this CVS, so I'm in foreign territory here. Aka I'm not quite sure what the whole bathroom situation is. Aka I have to pee where the fuck is the bathroom.
I only went to this location because it's right next to the radio station, and I had to go to the post office which is in the same parking lot.
I don't think I've ever been to a CVS where you actually needed a key to get into the bathroom. Granted, I've been to many CVS's (is that correct English?) that needed a lock code...unlock code?...but the bathrooms are always located right next to the pharmacy so you can just ask the pharmacy people for that.
But no. This CVS needed a key for the bathroom.
Mind you, this CVS trip took place the first day I wore my head scarf. (aka very big day).
This CVS trip also took place after throwing up all morning.
And then had lunch with my parents.
And then had a full on mental breakdown after the lunch with my parents, because I was crying in the car not knowing how many times I would be able to have lunch again with my parents.
Then blasted some 'yonce (again...like I said, first time wearing my headscarf), looked in the mirror and told myself mama didnt raise no BITCH...and stopped crying.
...Okay. It wasn't that simple. But I definitely stopped crying before I went into CVS.
So now I really have to use the restroom, but I don't know where it is. So I do the adult thing, and I ask. (Men, take note.)
...You know, you would think that when someone asks you where the bathroom is...you would mention they NEED A FUCKING KEY to get in.
Maybe I'm just being overly dramatic (which is 101 percent possible) but this is like the biggest CVS I've ever been in.
So after walking half a mile across the store to the restroom (okay...yes. definitely being dramatic) I go to the bathroom....which is locked. I go to the second bathroom...locked. THEN I see the sign "key located at register one."
So I speed walk back to "register one."
There's no one at "register one." Or "register two." Or "register three."
I don't know why I keep doing air quotes around those.
I also don't know why I'm calling those air quotes. Seeing as how I'm typing this out, those are literal quotation marks. hfdoshaio'wfjieoa'! (this means frustration in the language of keyboard).
GAH! So I FINALLY find someone that works there, and they FINALLY find the fucking key. Which was NOT at Register one BTW. IT WAS AT REGISTER 2. Liars.
Maybe this is just me...but I thought the whole point of attaching a foot long piece of wood to a bathroom key (which is just fucking weird) is so YOU DON'T LOSE THE DAMN THING.
So, after this whole debacle...I now speed speed walk back to the bathroom, which is ironic in itself, because...well I'm basically jogging at this point. Jogging through the beauty section to get to the bathroom.
More specifically the isle of the beauty section selling hair dye.
I'm pretty sure I've worn out the comedy bit on the whole "my hair is falling out" (if it was ever funny at all)...but I have to say, I'm convinced every model on every box of hair dye was laughing at me.
Because A) I do not jog. I do not run.
Let me say this louder for the people in the back.
I MEAN THIS VERY LITERALLY WHEN I SAY THAT I DO NOT JOG. IF YOU SEE ME JOGGING SLASH RUNNING THEN THERE IS A 100% CHANCE THAT THERE IS VERY LITERALLY SOMETHING CHASING ME AND YOU SHOULD RUN TOO.
...OR...I'm simply running after my car that I think is being stolen when my best friend/roommate decides to move it for me and....yeah.
Like I said. I'm an idiot.
An idiot that does not jog.
And B) The jogging (if you can call it that) occurs while I'm in 6'' heels WITH a headscarf on.
Okay...In all fairness, if I was a model on a box selling hair dye and saw this I would TOTALLY be laughing at myself too.
I mean, I'm laughing at the replay currently happening in my mind. Laughing and cringing.
...Thinking more about this whole thing.
............Okay, now I'm definitely cringing.
BUT!! The good news is, I made it. I return the key to the front and commence my shopping. I found everything I needed and everything I needed was on sale!
JUST KIDDING. I literally had a "list" of 4 items and they were out of every.single.one.of.them. Because this is how my life works now. FUCKING A.
So now I'm at exasperation level 5000...but my best friend calls me and says she wants to come over to visit...so yay! Yay? YAY! Maybe this day will turn around. I'm about to leave when I remember that I've been wanting some gray nail polish, so I decide to grab some. And as a plus...this whole CVS experience won't be a TOTAL fail.
I wait in line.
At this point I'm tired. Im hangry. I want to go home. We have a whole "Karen and her expired coupons" situation unfolding right before my very eyes. But I am COMMITTED to leaving this store with one fucking item so I can at least have SOMETHING go well in this fucked up day slash week slash month slash life. I go up to the counter to pay. I give them my phone number for CVS rewards so I can kill a few trees and get my 5 ft. long receipt. I pull out money to pay.
And then, I get asked the question.
"Would you like to make a donation to the American Cancer Society?"
It doesn't take a genius to figure out that this is where the table flipping incident is running through my balding head.
Table flipping, register flipping, whatever you want to call it.
Although the connotation of "register flipping" insinuates robbery. FYI that's not what I mean.
What I mean is that I just want to throw shit and burn shit and and scream.
I hate that word. The "C" word. And baby, I'm not talking about "C U Next Tuesday." I'm talking about the other C word.
The C word that hijacked my life. The C word that could kill me. The C word that has taken everything but my life from me. The C word that has broken me and my family and my friends into a million fucking pieces. The C word that changes everything. The C word that breaks everyone's family and friends into a million fucking pieces. The C word that interrupts happiness and disrupts futures.
The C word.
THE C word.
"Internal monologue: Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out."
And then suddenly...I have a switch flip in my head. I'm standing at the register in CVS and suddenly I can't even get mad.
Because...this is funny. Like really funny.
Like, this is really...REALLY fucking funny.
So I start to laugh....but problem is I can't stop. Literally cannot stop whatsoever. (We've been over this. My laugh is loud. And obnoxious. And loud. LOUD.)
I was laughing so hard I started crying. TBH...I'm considering asking for security footage to send into AFV (is that still a thing?) and win the ten grand showcasing my mental breakdown.
We're talking full on crazy town laughing mental break down here. 5150 status.
Donate to the American Cancer Society? Sure. You mean aside from the donation of my tits and my ovaries and my hair and my womanhood and my fucking sanity?
I'm standing in a line I shouldn't be standing in to buy NAIL POLISH that I consider a "personal splurge" because my life is now controlled by my failing body and fucking insurance company and big pharma and absolute all around bullshit. But yes. BY ALL MEANS, LET ME MAKE A FUCKING DONATION TO THE FUCKING AMERICAN CANCER SOCIETY AT THIS STUPID MOTHERFUCKING CVS.
I probably sound like a totally selfish ass here. Actually I know I do.
...Why? Because I am.
I know I'm not the first person to have cancer. I know I won't be the last person to have cancer. Don't get me wrong, I'm fucking fabulous. But this doesn't make me special. I know that.
But it does make me angry. And pissed off. And sad. And upset. And it makes me want to make things more about me more than I should.
I admire the stories about people who are on their "way out" or in the midst of their fight and make the world a better place. I am not that person.
I think I make parts of my life a better place. Others, I know I make worse.
Because I'm bitter. I'm angry. I need to not be so angry.
"Life is too short to be angry." HA. No shit, Sherlock.
But I am angry. Because every good moment I have is interrupted with the never ending voice in my head that I could die.
(...Siri, SHUT THE FUCK UP.)
But then, I hear the voice of my mother. Or the voice of my best friend sobbing through the phone "please don't give up"..."I need you"..."I love you."
The good news is, I'm not giving up. I have too much to live for. In some twisted fucked up way, aside from the whole dying thing...I'm the happiest I have ever been. I'm the most raw I've ever been. I'm the most honest I've ever been. So no. I'm not giving up. I'm not going to stop fighting. I have too much to live for.
Or at the very least, I'm not going to give up until I find my fucking nail polish.
...Remember the whole CVS thing? The "buy something so this whole trip isn't a waste" thing? The gray nail polish from CVS thing...ring a bell? Yeah. I can't find it.
I blame the cats. FML.