Milkshake Mafia

I got hired as a server in a new hip sushi restaurant in August 2010, and I had a pretty cool Manager. He was funny, cocky and kind of dumb and dorky. My favorite type of Manager, basically. We got along great. He took me aside often to tell me how I was his favorite. Then I would catch him say that to other chicks and I’d break his balls about it. On my drives to work, I was really excited for the banter we shared back and forth and I got pretty annoyed if he wasn’t working the same shift as me. My Husband loved hearing stories about him when I got off work. It was like a dream job, except the money was horrifyingly bad because they overstaffed the shit out of the place and did zero marketing, so it was actually a horrible job, but my funny manager took the edge off all that. The staff was awesome too. Just a bunch of fun drunks with lots of charm and charisma. I really enjoyed working there.

I got pregnant in November of 2010, and told everyone there about it in December and things were still the same, but now I got more snacks and more loving remarks. I couldn’t drink with anyone anymore though, but I still felt like a big part of the team. But around April of 2011, my awesome Manager started getting weird. He was uncomfortable with my bulging belly. He talked down to my baby bump every day. He would get grossed out if he heard me discuss ultrasounds, and he shook his head at my bump telling me to cover it up more and to wear looser clothing. I thought it was funny and psychotic at first, and I would just make jokes to him about how he should discuss his mommy issues at his next therapist appointment. But it got unfunny fast when he began cutting my tables down from 10 table sections to 4 table sections suddenly. Now he was fucking with my money. He claimed that my performance started suffering since my belly had gotten bigger. I asked for examples of how my performance suffered and he said I didn’t refill ice teas fast enough on one table during a busy lunch, which was true, but not worthy of that kind of penalty. The crazy part about this is, when I started there, I fucked up so much every shift, and I NEVER got in trouble. I split checks when I shouldn’t have, I ordered the wrong shit for people, I even left trays on tables before, I could barely open a bottle of wine at the beginning, and he laughed it off for months and months. I felt like I was getting favoritism when I was not with child, and screwed after I got pregnant, because by April, I knew for a fact that I was a pretty decent server, mainly because my tips started getting incredibly better and I started getting requested as a server more frequently. It was obvious this had to do with my belly. It was a pretty hip restaurant, so all I can guess is that he didn’t like the way a pregnant woman looked serving martnini’s on his floor at night. I kinda get that, but oh well, its against the law to fire someone for that.

So I feel like he decided to push me out by fucking with my sections and badgering me so much during shifts that I would just quit. When I came into work and saw that I had 3 tables in the worst section during a lunch in June, I fucking flipped the mother fucking fuck out. Mind you, I was 8 months pregnant at this point. I tried to confront him about it before the shift began, but he was hiding in his office with the door closed. So I worked the shift, and like I thought, the other skinny, young chicks I worked with made over $100 and I left with TWENTY FIVE MOTHER FUCKING DOLLARS SUCK MY CUNT YOU DICK I’M PREGNANT AND I WILL KILL YOU AND BURN DOWN YOUR HOUSE AND BREAK YOUR CAR WINDSHIELD MOTHER FUCKER. When he finally decided to stop hiding like a little bitch, I let him know that I was extremely pissed the fuck off, and that we needed to have a meeting. So he made me stay and cut the other two girls. So basically, the closer, ME, had to stay until 4:30pm and leave with $25 while the other girls got to leave at 2:30pm with $100+. That’s fair…NO.

So I left it at, I am pretty sure I am quitting, but I need cash, so I think I’m going to think this over tonight after I calm down and get back to you tomorrow. He was like, “Cool, see you tomorrow.” I left crying and my coworkers (especially the male coworkers) were very sweet and told me how much they hate to see me getting screwed over like that. God I miss those people, good, good people. So anyways, when I got out to my Husband’s car, he saw me crying. He asked what happened with the talk. He got insanely angry that my Manager did not apologize to me, and had a pregnant woman on her feet all day for $25 rather than cut me first if he was going to take my tables away like that. I noticed an XL milkshake in the car while Nathan was fuming mad. Before I got to ask why there was a milkshake here when we don’t drink milkshakes, he grabbed it, ran out of the car, and stormed into the restaurant. I felt in utter shock. I watched the horror that ensued through the windows. This sushi place is all windows, so you can see everything. I saw my Managers walking towards him, and Nathan threw the milkshake as hard as he could on the ground making it splatter all over the floor, hostess stand, part of the bar, and on one customer. I covered my mouth while screaming watching this happening. I started having serious contractions and thought I was going to give birth right there in our shitty 1990 Ford Festiva. I felt like I just saw him murder someone. You have to understand, as much of an asshole as I can be, I have this thing about jobs. My goal at every job I have ever had was to be the most prized employee, and to leave with a great recommendation. My parents raised me to be super polite to Authority, so I always have been, well only when I am getting paid by said authority figure.

When Nathan got back into the car, I told him to drive away as fast as he could and I proceeded to hyperventilate. I should have been laughing, but I was just so worried about money, future jobs, recommendations, etc. After I calmed down, I realized it was totally deserved by this Manager to experience some sort of lashing out, because I wasn’t the only person he screwed over royally. Nathan ran into a few of my old co-workers at bars and they shook his hand for doing that. Which was comforting, to know that people understood his rage.

Five months later today, I have a beautiful baby girl that joined our family and was born in a hospital and not in our Festiva on that horrible day. I have a Husband who I now know will do almost anything to defend me. And I still have the respect of the Assistant manager at the sushi place who I just used for a recommendation, which helped to get me a new job last week. I feel like I had a messy break up with that manager, and it is sad, but life goes on and I learned from it that you really don’t know people until you see all of their sides and colors. I already knew that, but this incident just made it that much clearer to me.


I’m Soo Charming

I wrote an email to Vice Magazine today that I was so proud of, I thought I should share it with all of my Faux Ma fans. Check it out.

Hi There. I have no business emailing you important hipsters today, but a friend of mine has been riding my ass to contact ya’ll, so here I go. I realize this will probably not get read, but I am writing this with the same blind hope that I had on my Wedding day.

Some things you should know about me:

1.) I made the dean’s list every quarter in College and now I am a 29 year old broke wife on welfare with two kids.

2.) I used to be homeless. I had to bathe in Walmart restrooms, and everyone assumed I was a prostitute.

3.) I am a borderline-alcoholic nymphomaniac with anger issues, but I like to counsel troubled children as charitable work to feel better about myself.

4.) My Husband shits his pants a lot and writes music about it.

5. ) My Mom would have done a much better job than Faye Dunaway at playing Joan Crawford for “Mommie Dearest”.

6.) I like to write on a blog and tweet my little heart out.!/Faux_Ma

Here are a few blog posts that you will not click on and read, because you are too busy and important to worry about gaining good Karma.

Scandinavian Kiss

Horrifying Cleavage

Shit Baby

If you have read this email long enough to get to this sentence, God help you, and you should probably be fired. Since you are here, I will mention that my friend thought Vice could use my style of writing. She even proposed that you start a Parenting section of Vice, and allow me to rant in it. HILARIOUS, right?

Well, we all know you have plenty of important tasks to get back to, like sexually harassing interns or taking an enormous coffee-induced dump.

Contact me if you have any use for a person like me to help you make more money to send the kids you will never have to a nice College. Or do what I assume you will, and never read, answer, or reply to this, you selfish prick. J/K. BFF?




It has been brought to my attention that maybe I divulge too much information on my blog & on Twitter.  I am guessing people are telling me that because of a few reasons.

1.) It could negatively affect future employment/professional opportunities if someone google searched me.

2.) I am telling things that cast me in an embarrassing and depressing light, which could make enemies I may have feel validated in their own lives.

3.) I could get stalkers, killers, kidnappers, etc.

4.) It is best to be private, because everyone needs a healthy amount of privacy.

Well, I don’t care about any of these reasons.  I don’t want a corporate job, and I never want to work for or with someone who would find this blog offensive.  That may lower my options, but I. don’t. care.

If my enemies find my life tragic, embarrassing, and gossip about it, then I am actually just doing some nice community service. Because I am giving them a confidence boost that they clearly need, if they are pathetic enough to believe their lives are any less fucked.

I may get a stalker, killer, or kidnapper, that would suck. But I could also get hit by a car, struck by lightening, poisoned by my in-laws, heart attack, stroke, cancer, etc.  But I am not going to stop going outside, riding in cars, eating food, eating bacon, or going sans sunscreen.

A healthy amount of privacy for me translates into alone time with my Husband, my kids, my friends (the ones that are left), and my dog and cat.  I don’t think I need to keep quiet about what is going on in my life, and keep it top secret, because all the people I know who do that are horrible, dreadful, lying, cheating bastards.  So I guess my blunt honesty can be owed to people like that, because I never want to be like them.

Besides, not a lot of people read this blog anyhow. : )

How Tara Got Her Groove Back

I went through a crazy transformation in the past few weeks.  I have been harboring a ton of resentment towards my Husband for years for shit he did when we first got together, and some other stuff he did over the years involving other women.  I am a jealous, possessive person, so other chicks are not cool with me.  I’m not like so bad that he can’t have gals as friends, but he can under no circumstances hang out with them alone like for lunch, drinks, etc.  I think that is pretty normal.  And its the same for him with me.  A few years ago I got close to one of my Husband’s acquaintances, and we started doing some photography & art together, and we got together for dinner and drinks occasionally when Nathan would be working late.  Sounds pretty messed up, right?  Well, I was kinda trying to get back at Nathan for doing that same kind of stuff. I thought, if he thinks it is so normal for him to hang out with chicks, lets see how he likes it when I hang out with guys.  Well, of course, because I am a nympho, I really can’t be close friends with a guy without flirting and tons of sexual innuendo flying around.  It was just totally inappropriate for us to be flirting at bars together, me being married and all.

I really took the “get back at Nathan” thing way too far.  It got to the point where people thought Nathan and I split up and that I was with this new guy.  I had a few spies, some of Nathan’s co-workers and buddies that would give me dirty looks and shake their head at me when they saw me out with him.  I knew it was wrong. I was actually really enjoying being “wrong”, though.  I had been going through such a possessive “stay away from my man!!” stage for the first 3 years of our marriage, so this was me kinda saying Fuck you to Nathan and all those other girls for taking so much of my energy. I knew I was being an asshole, and it was fun.  But playing with fire always ends badly.  I was beginning to lose touch with Nathan, and I started actually having this other guy be my real priority.  When the other guy started seeing how deep it was getting, he just told me we couldn’t hang out anymore because he didn’t want to be “that” guy to his friend.  Plus, Nathan found some emails we wrote to eachother that were all flirty, and he got fucking pissed off.  I stopped talking to him very abruptly, and always worried about running into him around town.  Nathan hates his guts now, naturally.  I haven’t spoken to him since 2008, and its like it never happened or something, because Nathan gets over shit.  I have been so jealous of him for being so good about moving past painful events in his life.  I guess because of a mixture of being a Woman, Irish, and from a hot-headed family, I don’t get over stuff easily.  I get really really obsessive when someone hurts my feelings, betrays me, lies to me, cheats, etc.

The normal thing would have been for me to lose all of my feelings of jealousy about Nathan’s side chicks after I put him through that.  That was my objective, but I failed.  I guess I got a little bit of satisfaction about hurting him the same way he hurt me, but I feel like the biggest loser in the picture.  Because I broke up a friendship, and made the other guy totally hated by Nathan.  Plus, it honestly was a blow to my ego when the other guy kinda chastised me for getting in too deep with him. It made me feel so stupid that he was looking out for Nathan more than I was.  So sad, really.  I was like an empty bucket using an outsider to fill me up, while manipulating my Husband’s emotions.  Luckily nothing ever got physical.  That would have made things so much more pathetic on my end.

So instead of gaining an even ground with Nathan, I just felt more guilty and stupid.  The whole thing should have never happened.  And in some sick way, I have been literally holding a grudge against him since the first chick incident went down 7 years ago, up until about a week ago.  Its like everything just made perfect sense for me.  I suddenly understand what forgiveness means, and how when you hold a grudge you are really just hurting yourself (and everyone around you).  I felt a lifting of my resentment, and a cracking opening of my shell this past week.  I had no idea how bad it was making me.  I snap at Nathan a lot for no reason, randomly throughout the week.  I thought it was stress from being a Mom, but it wasn’t.  Its really just this bullshit that I have been holding on to against him.  My firm grasp around my heart was keeping it from pumping properly for him.  I guess I was trying to protect myself, but all it has done is waste precious time that I could have been loving, laughing, licking, fucking, and playing with my Husband.  I mean, its not like we’ve been totally miserable, we made two babies and have had tons of awesome times but that pesky attitude problem of mine towards him started after that girl, got worse with the second, horribly horrible with the third, etc.  My anger has been eating me and him alive.  I realized today that what really contributed to my anger the most was all the blows to my ego I went through with these other girls taking away my spotlight.  I just felt so inferior to them, and ugly, and dumb, etc. no matter how much he would tell me otherwise.  It has been a huge problem for our sex life.  I think because I had all this anger always eating away at me, I just wasn’t very approachable.  So for years, I have been pissed off at him for not making moves on me more often.  But now that I finally let it go, I can see why he didn’t feel welcome into my personal space.  He kind of let the ball stay in my court most of the time, and I really don’t blame him.  When I approached him for sex, he always got very excited and looked relieved that I invited him into me.

It almost feels like I have been pregnant with pain for 6 years, just busting at the seams. I gave birth to this giant resentment baby this morning actually.  It has been trying to be born for so long, I guess it couldn’t take it anymore.  I felt all of the anger towards him lift off of me and fly away.  Then I proceeded to fuck him all day long.  It felt like we just met.  I am still all giddy about it.  I can’t believe I have been keeping myself away from this man I am madly in love with for this long.  He has been in the dog house sooo long, so he is just so fucking happy that I let him out.  What an asshole I’ve been, Jesus.  Today was the first day I had sex with him in years that I wasn’t fighting feelings of anger towards him as I was cumming.  Do you know what a relief that is?  OH. MI. GOD.  Such a fucking relief. The craziest part about all of this, is I think Twitter is to thank for the shedding of my resentment layers.  I have been gaining such a sense of self confidence from the awesome, funny folks on there and fans I have been gaining, I think it just helped me get back what I thought I had lost when those girls came in and knocked me off my pedestal.  Twitter is reminding me that I am smart, funny, and beautiful, mainly because people tell me those three things all day long in messages and @ replies.  Maybe a shrink would think getting cocky because of fans is not a healthy way to feel better about yourself, but I don’t really give a fuck.  I have felt so down on myself for so long, I will take praises and reminders that I am cool from where ever I want.  I know I should know those things about myself on my own, and I used to, but I lost touch with reality along the way because of heartbreak and jealousy.  Feels good to get it back.  So. So. Good.

Roller Coasters Are Only Fun At The Park

The changes that have been going on in my body, my mind, my emotions, and my hormones in the past 3 years is incredible.  Your body goes through so much when you are pregnant, and it seems as if it never ends when you breastfeed.  I went from being pregnant to nursing my son for a year and  a half, to becoming pregnant again and now nursing again with no breaks.  I am not complaining, I love all of it.  Well, yeah, I am complaining, but I love being a Mom, and I think it is awesome and fascinating to be a walking, talking beverage that is keeping a baby alive.  It is still kinda insane to think about how much a woman’s body can go through, and its no wonder so many Moms go fucking crazy after they pop out a few kids.  I am fairly certain I would have been a much less bearable person to be around the past few months if it wasn’t for this blog, and twitter to pour out all my thoughts into.  I am SHOCKED my husband didn’t leave me because of how I acted at times.  I was a horrid, horrid woman.

Sexual changes can be good and bad.  Like, when I was pregnant, my orgasms were so insanely strong that it made sex better than it has ever been.  My nipples were way too sensitive though, it just hurt to get them touched.  But then, after the birth, and when you start wanting to have sex again, you have the extremely sucky experience of the first few orgasms postpartum.  They are so lackluster, they cannot even compare to the giant pregnant lady orgasms, it is enough to make you cry for days.  All the pressure and fluids from the baby pressing down on your vag, cause all the blood to kind of pool down there, so your body is pretty much ready to go for sex 24/7.  My clit was permanently aroused for the entire last trimester.  It was distracting, and sometimes felt so good it hurt.  I miss it so bad, but one must move on despite these painful circumstances.  Pregnancy orgasms vs. postpartum orgasms is a lot like the difference between ecstasy sex vs. sober sex. Or like diet coke to diet pepsi.  Or Mcdonald’s croutons to Outback steakhouse croutons.  Or Natural Ice to Blue Moon.  Or $4 bottle of wine to a $100 bottle of wine.  Can you tell I could do this for days?  You get the point.  It just can’t compare, and you are stuck with it. You have to make the most of it.  Eventually you get used to it, and start appreciating it for what it is.

I just started getting to that point postpartum where I feel like the old me, I feel good about my body,  I enjoy and want sex, I am having fun with my husband again all the time, and my kids aren’t overwhelming me to the point that I have to run in the backyard and scream.  I finally feel relaxed.  It is so nice to get over that hump.  I think the entire 9 months of pregnancy have nothing on the first 3 months postpartum in terms of difficulty and pain.  Jesus.  I am getting chills just thinking about what a nightmare it was.  Seriously, a total nightmare.  You have this beautiful new baby, but all you wanna do is cry, plan your escape to Mexico, and contemplate starting an addiction to heroin.  I am very proud of myself for turning to comedy during this phase, because laughing is really the only effective way I have found to handling bullshit.

Simon Cowell Complex

My husband did not like that last post about Texas.  He prefers for me to be funny, sarcastic, and silly on here. I do too, for the most part.  And I kinda thought I was in that post…guess not.  I am using this blog as a public journal, something I can turn to to unload all of my bullshit on so I am not doing it to the people in my life or to myself.  You may have noticed I have a lot to say, and it sucks to not have any friends nearby to vent to.  I guess that is why I wanted to write online rather than just write in a personal journal like I have my whole life.  I want to feel like I have a connection to the world outside of my own, that maybe someone is reading my posts and relating to them just a little or a lot. It is hard to hear someone say they don’t like something you have done, but I stand by what I am doing on here.  I may not always be hilarious, but I am always 100% honest.  I know we all crave honesty.  So many people are such big fucking liars.  It feels good to say the truth whether it is through an angry rant, a sad story, or a funny or sarcastic post.  I think just like Simon Cowell is famous for being harsh to try to push people to their full potential, my Husband was just trying to encourage me to do what I do best in his eyes, be funny.  I respect his opinion, but I won’t guarantee any thing on here because I don’t want to limit myself.

If you want funnies, go to my twitter page.  But on here, you never know what you are gonna get, because I don’t either.


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