The Crazy Bitch in the "Women's" Magazine

Every other week, I try to schedule my nail appointment on a low traffic day, when I can just zip in and out of the Vietnamese salon. I don’t really enjoy my 45 minutes in the nail shop, but I was born with the stubbiest, midget fingers, so the acrylic extensions that grace the tips help. This past week was filled with working way past the 5:00 hour, so I had to make an appointment for Saturday; the busiest nail salon day of the week. I arrived early, but ended up waiting a half hour. I sat on the ugly, but comfy couch searching for reading material.

I browsed through the latest issue of Star, but I don’t give two shits about any celebrity, so I ended up discarding it completely. I dove into a couple of the “women’s” magazines hoping to find something remotely amusing.

After flipping through pages of ridiculous crap, I settled on an article that I thought was a profile of a female private investigator, but after a page and a half realized it was about some neurotic bitch that went through her boyfriend’s old letters and journals and decided to hold it against him. She was way over dramatic about how she was weak in the knees and felt sick to her stomach, while confronting him and how she lost five pounds from crying and stressing out all week about his letters.

I didn’t even make it through the entire article, because all I wanted to do was find this cunt and kick her ass. Her constant whining made me want to vomit. At the beginning of the article, she lets her readers know that her boyfriend is 34, and that they both live in New York City, which means that he probably had a life prior to hooking up with her. Let me clarify something, these were not letters or emails that she found as evidence of cheating, they were things he had written before their four month relationship began. That’s right, all this fucking childish drama for a four month relationship!
To her boyfriend’s credit, after days of silence on her part, he shows up at her door with flowers to take her out to dinner and try to make everything better. Little does he know that he is involved with a crazy, drama queen who proceeds to refer to his flowers as a “$4 bundle of weeds” and claims that the restaurant he took her to was “cheap.” In case you’re wondering, the whining rag is 26 years old.

The one positive thing about this ridiculous profile is that they actually ran a couple of real pictures of her, which is good because men’s magazines everywhere should re-print those photos with a warning label underneath that reads, “This snooping, psychobitch isn’t worth the trouble!” I’m angry, because these chicks give women bad reputations by playing into the whole tabloid, drama queen, ‘I’m unstable, but I need love’ stereotype that give these crap magazines fodder for their glossy, over-priced pages.

All of this drama was so unnecessary. If you don’t trust someone, break up with them. If you are dating someone who is in their 30s, then unless they’ve been in a Buddhist monastery their whole life, they had a past prior to you. If they are using the same lines like, “you might be the one” or “I really feel a connection with you” on you that they used on previous love interests, it’s because you are in a relationship with a man, and they only have a few lines to express their emotions. Our society doesn’t let men be flowery with the language, so every guy has a cache of about seven to ten romantic lines that they use for everyone they are with, it doesn’t mean they are disingenuous, it’s just that their lexicon isn’t that developed.

Either way, I find it ironic that our society makes such a big deal about women in their 20s being the shit, when in actuality, women 30 and up are so much easier to deal with. If you don’t call us an hour after a date, we don’t get upset, because we are usually sleeping. We have our own careers, lives, friends, and confidence, so we are less dependent. The kicker is that women in their 30s and up are way more sexually adventurous than chicks in their 20s, which is some sort of weird taboo in this age-obsessed, American culture.

I’m not branding all women in their 20s as immature; in fact, I’ve met some young gals who are more responsible than I am. Hopefully, this crazy bitch, whose name I can’t remember or I would publish it, is the exception to the rule. It would be very unsettling to think that the majority of women in their mid-20s were this obsessive and over dramatic. When I was in my mid-20s, I was more dramatic than I am now, but nothing I ever did came close to this wacky broad’s antics.

Next time I have a minor layover at the nail salon, I’m taking my own reading material. In fact, as a rule from now on, I need to take my own brain candy everywhere I go, because in this celebrity-obsessed, drama queen, ‘a stupid woman is a sexy woman’ culture, material branded “for women” is as pointless, mindless, and ridiculous as that shit they push in those annoying men’s magazines, minus the attractive, half naked, B-list Hollywood star.