Digger Barbie's Lifestyle

After that first day of seeing what I thought was life size Barbie, I found myself even more determined to meet her and pick her apart. Maybe I just wanted to see her flaws because from a distance she seemed pretty damn perfect. Now first off let me clear somethings up here. Women can look at other womens appreances and comment without being thought of as wierd or lesbian men not so much. Men in general don't check out other mens clothes or appearances and compare notes. Or they do but don't admit it. Where as women we check out other women and make comparisons all the time. Sometimes it can be devistating and sometimes beneficial. Well enough about that. After about a week of standing around the kindergarten yard I was able to have a few conversations with Barbie. She was pretty vague which I thought very odd. But it just made me all the more determined to dissect her life. Whenever I asked a question I felt like I had to ask 10 more questions just to get the 1st one answered. What the hell was she hiding, and what was it about her that was so damn interesting. So far all I could gather is that she was taking courses to become a nurse, she lived in a condo in a nice area, her babies daddy walked off the planet after moving her here to Vegas, and she had no family here. I wondered so many things like how the hell she could afford such a bomb-ass car, and such nice clothes, and her hair and nails so perfect. I mean there are only so many questions you can ask a person before you start pissing them off and getting on there last damn nerve. But I was gonna find out. Here I was working two damn jobs just to support my kids and didn't have shit to show for all my hard work. I mean she just looked alittle to classy to be a stripper. I did wonder if she was a prostitute but she just didn't seem like she'd be hanging out at the local no-tell-motel. So I knew I was gonna have to dig alittle deeper (no punn intended). So I decided to invite her and her daughter over to my house for a play date. She gladly accepted and I was excited. When she showed up she looked so well put together for just wearing flip flops, jeans and a tee shirt. I was shocked when she handed me a beautifully wrapped horderve plate from PF Chang's. Considering I had only made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and whipped up some koolaide. Well, what can I say I'm a papper plate, plastic fork kinda gal. I was kinda surprised when I offered her something to drink and she declined as she pulled out a bottle of Pierre water from her Burberry bag. We sat in my backyard and watched all three kids run around and yell like fools. But as we made small talk it was as if she just couldn't relax. Finally, I just couldn't take it anymore I just had to know. So I bluntly asked her "how in the hell can you be so prefect". As soon as I said it I regreted it. But it was like word vomit I could not shut the fuck up. One stupid thing after another came out of my mouth. I am surprised she didn't run for the damn door, kid in tow.Or slap the shit outta me for being so damn rude. It shocked the hell out of me when she started tearing up and crying. I kept thinking which of my lame ass questions had caused her to cry. Was it "how do you always look so perfect, or how do you have such great clothes, or do you come from a rich family, or wow, how can I be more like you and less like me???" I felt that I had seriously wounded her in some way. And then there it went she told me "You have no idea who I am or what I am". I just sat there waiting for her to tell me she was a princess in hiding or the long lost daughter to some rich dude. But no no couldn't be that simple. She had to ask me if I knew what a gold digger was. I sat there looking kinda dumb going though my internal file cabinet in my brain. Searching for gold digger then oh yeah I got it I've heard of those ruthless women that chase professional athlete's and famous dudes for money. But for some reason looking at her it didn't seem to fit the image I had. And thats when I was invited to learn about the digger barbie lifestyle.

Sometimes the Grass is Greener

My daughter's first day in kindergarten was more exciting for me than for her, I think. I stood watching her and I felt so proud. I was sad that she would be away from me for two and a half hours but also alittle happy thinking about the things I could accomplish during that time. I was watching her enjoy herself with the other kids and I was checking out all the other parents. When I noticed a tall lady wearing black sunglasses and white track suit. My first thought was, seriously white track suit, she must be crazy cause no mother in her right mind with a kindergartener wears white. I stood there checking her out from head-to-toe. She had on a pair of silver flip-flops, her toes had a french manicure. The sweat pants were rolled at the bottom and she appeared alittle to tan for it to be natural. She was wearing a light pink tank top with silver rhinstones spelling out BeBe across the front. I could tell she must have had a boob job cause her boobs just looked alittle to good to be her own. From the toneness of her arms I could also tell she had to work out. Her nail bore a french manicure, but I was alittle to far away to tell if the nails were her own or not. Her hair was long and shiney, the kind I wished I had. She wore her blonde and brown highlighted hair parted in the middle and straight to the middle of her back. I couldn't tell if she was wearing any makeup or not because I was too far away and she had huge black sunglasses on. I noticed that for some reason she just looked out of place. She just looked alittle too good. She just stood there by herself watching her daughter. I noticed that all she was holding in her had was a cellphone and some keys. I remember thinking hmmm I wonder what kind of purse she carries. Did she leave it in her car? Did she walk here? I decided to be the friendly slash nosy person that I am and walked over to try and get the 411. Just as I walked over to say hi the bell rang and all the kids started running toward there classes. Once I turned around I caught site of the lady walking to the parking lot. Well I guess she did drive after all. I watched to see which car was hers and sure enough the black BMW with tinted black window she got into fit her appearance perfectly. I remember thinking that day, "I think I just say the real life barbie", bitch. When in reality I would have never guessed that I had just set my sites on a real life professional Gold Digger.

Gold Digger vs. Prostitute

The difference between sex for money and sex for free is that sex for money usually costs alot less. There is a difference between Gold diggers, a.k.a. Diggers and Prostitutes. Many people believe that they are one and the same. That is not true. What is true is, there's a fine line between them. The primary difference is , the prostitute is someone who sleeps with people she doesn't know for money. The Digger has targeted a guy and wants to keep him for a long-term thing--not just the five-hundred-dollar one shot deal. And hopefully it ends in getting your life paid for or marriage, but that depends on the goal of the individual Digger. As a Digger, the relationship you're looking for involves emotions. The prostitute wants the quick one-time transaction, maybe with repeat business. But she'll opt for no emotions, thank you very much. The Prostitute also gets paid before the sesexual act. A Digger gets paid afterward. And it's in the form of "shopping money, credit card usage, gifts...". You could say the Prostitute is smarter that way-to get paid up front. But the Diggers, still retains a little more dignity than just the ho doing the corner flesh hustle. The Digger gets wined and dined and romanced somewhat. She is appealed to more as a woman. The Prostitute is treated more like a beast. The Digger is known to be more educated and attractive, with obvious exceptions. Hookers are more crude and crudely do it for money. It doesn't matter who the men are, as long as they pay up. Diggers check out a guy. And the better the Digger, the more selective she is. And Digging is definetly safer. There are no pimps to pay off or fear. You work for yourself and depend on your own ingenuity for survival. After doing the research for both sides I think that emotionally, there is no difference at all between the two because the both end up feeling like a whore--and thats never fun.

Why oh why is the moon not made of cheese? It's probably better that it isn't cause I'd be booking a ticket to the moon just to take a bite. Why is it if a man has a few extra pounds on him, he's fluffy, plump, round, chubby, ect. Now if a female has a few extra pounds added to her, all hell breaks loose. You'd think she hit the six o'clock news. It seems everyone has to comment on it and I'm not talking about people being subtle. You don't hear "oh, she's fluffy, plump or chubby". People go straight for the "Damn she's fat", or "Oh, that fat chick". Now children can be pleasantly plump or cherub, and a man can be big and cuddley. But with women there's a whole different guideline. There is no in between there is either skinny or fat. Most women struggle with their weight their whole lifes. We are either keeping track of every morsel of food that goes into our mouths or we are binge eating and feeling guilty and depressed later. Every New Years Eve we make our resolutions and promise that this year we will diet and eat healthy and lose those extra pounds we've been carrying around. Then somewhere around March we lose interest or we get burnt out. We dive into that chocolate cake that we've been depriving ourselves of and with each bite the echo of the word "fat" doesn't seem to cut as deeply as before. Then the guilt starts to set in with the thought of summer, bikini's, and skimpy clothes. And there we are again making promises and sometimes even a few threats that we are definetly going to start eating better, excercising, and lose weight. So there we are again sweating at the gym and eating rabbit food. And what do you know here it comes around the corner Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Let the feasting begin. Now I know I really don't need to tell you what happens from there. But hell at least you've got New Years to look forward to and the not so new New Year's resolution.

Valentine's Day

You either love it or hate it. You love it cause your in love, or a romantic, or you are just in love with love. As for hating Valentine's Day, well thats a pretty loaded subject. If your in love Valentine's Day will more than likely go smooth and sweet for you. Now, if you have no special someone things can be alittle bit more tricky. You kind of have to turn things around to your benefit. Use your imagination. You are definetly not the only person alone on Valentine's Day. But you should take advantage of the benefits of being single and alone. I know it seems like there are nothing but lovey dovey couples as far as the eye can see,but thats not exactly true. First off, hiding at home scarfing away a box of chocolates while watching romantic movies is going to get you nowhere. You have to put yourself out there. There are soooo many guys out there alone and bummed cause its Valentine's Day and they are alone. So those are who your gonna want to take advantage of. You can find them just about anywhere. All you gotta do is throw them a line. What I mean is really quite simple. Let's say your in the store and you see a guy pushing his shopping cart around looking alittle bummed or lost or just looking. Don't chase him around the store just happen to be going down the same isle as him and ask him a question. It doesn't have to be anything major, just something like "hey, do you know where the wine coolers are? "It sucks being alone on Valentine's Day" (give sad look). Now there's his cue to jump start the convo. Now if he doesn't move on to your next victim. You can pretty much adjust this ploy anyway you want. I mean you don't want to start a coversation with a guy that you see carrying flowers or in search of a box of chocolate. Because its pretty obvious he's not buying them for himself. Most men if they are alone on Valentine's Day they are feeling just as bummed as you are. And they've probably played all the senarios in there little heads of what they'd do if the had a date. This is where its to your advantage to look your best. I mean look ready to go out if your asked, cause it is only one day. Most men don't enjoy being alone on Valentine's Day either. I mean if they invite you out use your good judgement. But most guys will be on they best behavior on this day and want to impress you. Also, it does wonders for there ego and story telling, of how they met someone on Valentine's Day. So you can either spend Valentine's Day with a box of chocolates infront of the T.V. in your jammies. Or you can sieze the day. Just remember Alone does not have to mean Lonely.

Red Is Not For Love

Whever I write I always use red pens. I buy them by the box.I use Flairs, ballpoints, razor points, Magic Markers. All in that one color, Red. It's not because its a sexy color, or fiery, or the color of lipstick or passion or cherries. The fact is if you glare long enough at red, when you look away you see its primary opposite, green. I want to see green as much as possible. on a daily basis. Yes I am that focused. I am always moving forward. As a woman if your not moving forward, your actually moving backwards, even if your standing still. Because your not getting any younger. Status quo is death for a woman. Especially for a woman with no inheritance or lottery check in site.

War of the Sexes

We all know of the unfair treatment of women but what about the unfair treatment of women amongst eachother? I honestly believe women would be rulers of the planet if we weren't so damn jealous of eachother. Do we dress up and put on our full face war paint, so that men will look at us? Or other women? When we hear that little voice in our head that says we are not good enough in some aspect, is it because we are comparing ourselves to men or other women? We all know that the world is an unfair place genetically, biologically, and with respect to gender. A woman must scratch, climb, screw, and crawl to get what she wants. It may take adopting some unsavory methods. I'm talking about seoius behind-the-back, in-the-closet, while-she's-away, while-he's-away kind of stuff. Now, of course men have been calling us bitches for centuries for this kind of merciless behavior. But let's not forget. We hold the key to life. And we can't wait forever to do it. A man can. He can wait and wait and hold out and play around for pretty much as long as he likes. But we cannot. So at the end of the day there's some very tough competition between women. That's why women will always be checking out other women and making comparitive, sometimes shattering, mental notes.

To Blog or Not to Blog

I guess you could say this is, part diary/part spontaneous ramblings. Anyway, you know when your telling a story and you just have too much to tell? You say things like meanwhile, at the same time, nevertheless, and oh yeah, I forgot this part. I write things down as I remember them. There is no great order. And I repeat. It is a patchwork presentation, and for that I apologize. But in the end, you'll get the full story. And you can judge its significance for yourself. Or don't. But please, bear with me.