Are you as tired as I am of the Facebook tribute posts? My husband is the bestest in the world because he loves me and my children; takes out the garbage; holds me when I cry; changes diapers; listens to me whine. My son is amazing because he gets up in the morning; brushes his teeth; eats his breakfast without flinging it across the table at me; and does his homework. And on and on. But my favorites of all time are the gushy birthday posts made by women for women. Waxing psychotically poetic, paragraph after paragraph of poorly written English with grammar that would make a sixth grader laugh, these posts have become almost like a contest to see who can outdo whom on social media. Taking these tributes at face value, if you didn't know the person, you'd really think they were the fucking bees knees! I've read some that almost had me believing the woman was not only the most beautiful woman on the planet, but had also been a rock of support for everyone who walked past her in the last 40 years, and had cured cancer. Then I remembered that I knew her and started to laugh my ass off...and speedily screenshot it to share with the rest of the snarky bitches I happen to call my friends. Why do we do this? Should we be supportive of each other? Yes! Should we raise each other up rather than cutting each other down? Derpy der. Do we have to engage in an all-out Woman Crush Write-a-thon to do so? Hell fucking no!
That being said, allow me to engage in a little bit of female admiration in honor of my sista's birthday...
Nineteen years ago, I met a woman who would turn out to not only be my daughter's preschool teacher, the woman who taught her to read, but also someone I'd call family. GAG! This is as far as I get in the sea of vomitous verbosity. Now, let's talk about life with this woman...in bullet points to prevent me from accidentally falling into a puddle of mush and gush.
-the woman who will tear someone else to shreds with me just because I feel slighted
-the woman I've done the same for and still do
-the broad who lets me cry and then tells me to shake it the fuck off and man up
-the chick who will yo-yo diet with me, trying every plan under the sun, and listen to me when I tsk tsk her beverage choices
-the comic who has intentionally made me laugh so hard at work, I've had to run out of the room for fear of crying down my cheeks and down my legs...just by singing one damn song
-the female with whom I can commiserate about the most disgusting of womanly issues in grotesque detail and not fear judgement
-the person I can be completely psychotic with and then discuss politics with, seamlessly and without interruption
-the young-at-heart girl with whom I can go to the mall with and try on men's underwear over my capris
-the music stylist that will break into song with me at the drop of a hat and in more than one language
-the dancer who will bust a move on a day I may not be my usually perky self and knock me out of my cranky pants
-the psychologist who will help me dissect my issue du jour and then turn around and hand me the notepad so I can dissect one of hers
-the mom, who when I tell her someone was an asshole to my kid, doesn't hesitate a second before asking if she needs to cut a bitch
-the human to whom I trust my darkest secrets and never fear they'll come back to haunt me
-the only child this only child calls her sister
Before I fall victim of a sickly sweet compliment flood, I will stop here and say HAPPY MOTHERFUCKING BIRTHDAY, MA SISTA!!!
Would I ever post a flowery tribute filled with hearts and balloons and all kinds of gross, complimentary bullshit? Are you freaking kidding me right now???
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