Monday, February 28, 2011

Jealousy is a stinky cologne.



This past weekend what was supposed to be a fun family gathering quickly turned into a let’s bash Blanche free-for-all.  Two of my family members have been on a kick lately wherein they consistently tear me down and poke fun at me.  Now, don't get me wrong, I love to tease people, pick at the quirks, have a good laugh at my own expense.  This, however, is unrelenting, and sadly rather unfunny.  


Initially I did what any sane person would do,  I poured myself a stiff Grey Goose and lime and took cover while the sweet nectar could do its job on my nerves.  However, as can sometimes be the case with alcohol, the drink failed to soothe me and as their relentless teasing continued the vodka instead skipped over the laid back phase and launched me headfirst into the rage phase.  Which led me to want to open up a big can of STFU on their asses.  While one is a blood relation, the other is related through marriage.  So my reactions to them are different than they would be say to some trollop in a bar throwing shade my way.  In the case of the in-law, this lack of blood relation oddly makes me feel like I should be wearing kid gloves in my dealings with him, keep it all civilized and on the up and up, when clearly, he has taken the gloves off.  So, while my knee-jerk reaction when met with their unmasked hostility is to blithely toss my gimlet in their faces, alas, that would be a sinnful waste of precious vodka and would make for some rather uncomfortable Thanksgiving dinners.  So what did I do?  Naturally I downed another vodka and angrily texted my friend and my sister play by play updates and said to them what I would have loved to say to my foes.  Both my sister and friend texted back that they were clearly jealous of me.  And truthfully, I hate the old, “they are just jealous” standby.  How often have we placated a raging friend with this mantra, “Oh, they are just jealous of you, yeah, yeah, that’s it!”  Or calmed our own anxieties with this stalwart excuse?  It feels too easy and far too arrogant to rely on this tired and self-righteous adage.   Why then the animosity?  Why the hurtful and loaded “jokes”? (I use the term loosley as there is very little humor in their attacks.  Were they to illict an actual laugh or at least touch on some truth and deliver their barb with some finesse then I would be laughing as well. Trust.  The Blanches are nothing if not self effacing, darlings.) Additionally, I could swear when they were throwing their jabs and verbal darts at me I caught a whiff of this stale, tired, cologne, it was a mixture of bitter and envy, with subtle notes of regret and discontent.  


So why the sudden envy?  Why has the green monster reared it’s ugly head now?  Well, having just lost over 70 pounds I am forced to admit that I look pretty damn adorable.  Given the current upswing in my life and the stagnant place my detractors are in their lives, their envy is almost palpable.  However, if they can’t be happy for me, is that my problem?  You are either on team Blanche, or you’re not.  Apparently these two are not.  Oddly, were you to ask them, they would vociferously insist that they are firmly in my corner, cheerleaders for my cause even.  However, landmines set to trip us up by those closest to us can be the most damaging, non?  They know where to really hit us where it hurts.  So what to do?  How do we shrug it off when the very people who we are closest to are polluting and stinking up our world with their jealousy like they are one  those spritzer bitches at Henri Bendel  attepting to sample their wares on you? (If you have been to the fragrance floor of Bendel's then you truly know how aggressive and stinky a place that indeed is, darlings.) How do we temper our responses and not allow their issues to pull us down into the mud with them? (or even worse waste a good tumbler of vodka on them?)  Well, much like desperation, envy and jealousy envelope the person wearing them, everyone in the room can smell it and well, it's a turn off.  Living well and being true to yourself truly is the best revenge.  So for now, despite the suffocating haze of envy hanging in the air and assaulting our senses, the Blanches will raise their glasses in a toast to being ourselves.  Love us or leave us but always know, we are fabulous.  

Friday, February 18, 2011

Beverages For Douche Bags


I was out walking today enjoying the Spring like weather when a truly horrifying sight accosted  my eyes. It was truck and it was advertising Ed Hardy “fine” wines. Wonderful, so in addition to outfitting guidos and douchebags in heinous wannabe badass gear, Christian Audigier (A.K.A Ed Hardy) is now also quenching their thirst and fueling their predatory nights out with what is undoubtedly a fragrant and subtly complex wine suitable for their delicate and discerning palettes.  Exactly what society needs.  (Why do I imagine this stuff tastes like a combination of Mountain Dew meets Old E?) Instead of “fine wine”  shouldn’t it be called “Date Rapist Juice”?  Or perhaps, “Bar Brawl Brew”?  I mean, we all know the guy who will buy this (and trust, people WILL buy it) You’ve seen him out, you may have even dated him back in the day (for shame!).  The guy with the waxed eyebrows and a tribal tattoo on his upper arm, too tan and a little too buff (‘roided out, natch).  He is the guy who refers to everyone as “bro” and answers his phone by flipping it up to his ear and eloquently burping out, “Talk to me kid.”  A natural born winner.  Why?  Why do we need Ed Hardy wine people? Vodka (the purest most exceptional alcohol in my opinion) has had it’s reputation sullied by the likes of overdressed, too sweet, too frilly “exotic” mixed drinks, the flirtini, the cosmo, the appletini, so many cutsey "tini" drinks, not worthy of that pure, crystal clear nectar of the Gods.  This to me is a sin, vodka is best drunk clean, perhaps some soda, some tonic, a lemon or lime wedge or a splash of Rose’s for the perfect gimlet of course.  Alas, Vodka was long ago appropriated and dressed up like a pre-op tranny by the uneducated and uncivilized masses, however, I assumed wine was safe, safe from the unsavory and unseemly herds looking for a quick and "yummy" ride to inebriation.  I suppose in this day and age nothing is sacred.  So now even douche bags can swill the “good stuff” whilst dodging grenades, wooing walking HPV viruses swathed in wet seal dresses, and cooking their testicles in hot tubs.  What is society coming to?  Sigh.  Side note: in the above ad at the bottom next to the link to the website it says, "The cool wine".  Seriously.  Which is inherently uncool.  If you have to say it, then it immediately negates any possibility or potential for "coolness'.  It's all just so upsetting, is it not?


Additionally, Lest you think this blog is merely a pair of drunks espousing their views on alcohol (a fine subject, worthy of it’s own blog, alas it shan't be this one) rest assured, the Blanches are here to fill your days with a little moxie, humor, and to of course say what we all are thinking but simply are too polite to say aloud.  You’re welcome.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

What Would You Do For a Vodka Gimlet?

We are experiencing a lull in our vodka gimlet intake these days and think it is high time we re-visit this delightful, thirst-quenching anytime cap. Perhaps we have not had as much time to spend with our beloved gimlets or maybe in the colder months, we prefer other libations. Do we equate limes with summertime? Sure we do. But enough is enough. There are no more excuses. Vodka is our friend and vodka hearts limes. Sharing is caring, but we don't care. We want our own. Gimme a gimmy.

Cheers, Bitches.