So it has been a few days…weeks…oops, since I have written anything. I guess you could say that things have been a little hectic here. Between the shift in weather -leaving me fatigued, steady busy at work and my coach uping the game in training… Well, by the time I thought about it, I really had no energy to focus on anything.
Resting Bitch Face.
This, is my first world problem.
I’m going to pause right here and say this is your warning. I swear. I swear in real life and if you actually know me, you will probably read the follow in my tone of voice and temperment. If you don’t like swearing…well…You might as well stop right here and come back another day. Why? Well, I am going to drop the F bomb at least a dozen times, call people hind-end of a donkey among some other more colorful terms I am known to use. 🙂
Urban Dictionary: Resting bitch face – a person, usually a girl, who naturally looks mean when her face is expressionless, without meaning too.
Nah, she’s just got a resting bitch face, she’s actually really sweet.
I guess one of the biggest things that irritates me, is this is not something you choose. You don’t suddenly wake up one morning and decided… Oh heyyyy, I wanna look like that old fashioned hot actress Vivien Leigh (the woman who played Scarlett O’Hara in Gone With the Wind for those of you who don’t watch classic movies, and who is pictured as the headlining photo…god it’s sad that I have to explain that). A resting bitch face (or rbf) just happens, it is your natural relaxed expression. Not some half pouty duck-lipped bullshit I see circulating on social media. There is no, oh I’m gonna put on my rbf or some of these other memes I see circulating the internet. None of this horse-shit “smiles give you wrinkles, resting bitch face keeps you pretty.” Seriously?! Shut the fuck up already! I rank those memes right up there with the wanna be meatheads posting about going all beast mode in the gym… pipe down Chachi, you are not lion, or a tiger, you are not a gorilla or any other sort of beast. Go do your zillion curls and take some flexing pic for Instagram in front of the dumbell rack.
Very much true to what Urban Dictionary says, it is a resting face, with zero expression. We don’t sit there looking all happy and perky smiling at every goddamn asshole that walks by or glances in our direction. We’re usually the one you think it snarling at you or mean mugging you and in truth we’re probably debating on returning an outfit we bought this past weekend, or what to cook dinner, or did I remember to pack everything in my gym back? Whatever it is, the reality directly in-front of our faces is the farthest thing from the cause of our lack of expression.
Every now and then, I come across an article posted somewhere that a few of the pointers hit the nail right on the head…. From: Cosmopolitan, 13 Struggles
The biggest ones from Cosmo’s article are:
5. People tell you to smile more. You just wanna be like, “Hey, you don’t find me telling you what to do with your face! SO SHUT UP.”
9. People think you’re impolite because you don’t smile, even if you said “please” and “thank you” in a singsong voice. The face isn’t cooperating!! Just leave it alone, OK?
10. You have to make yourself act extra perky to make a good impression. People just don’t know how tiring it is to pretend to be someone you’re not. And they don’t know the pain you feel in your cheeks right now from smiling too big for too long — yep, your cheeks are shaking and twitching. You’re looking good. Not.
11. People think you’re bossy or a snob when you give instructions. You might have to say eve-ry word care-ful-ly, like so. Which sucks ’cause who’s going to take you seriously now?
Oh number five and number nine kind of go hand in hand …(insert my laughter here)…. Stop telling me to smile more, it’s uncomfortable. Stop asking me what is wrong just because I don’t smile like some perky cheerleader. In fact, telling me to smile more is more like to earn a scowl with some upper lip curl. Aaaand ohhhh holy sweet baby Jedus Priest, if I had a nickle for every time I’ve been called in my supervisors office because I wasn’t overtly nice to some asshole, I’d quit working and become a book/gym hermet… I hate people. I seriously HATE. PEOPLE. for this asshole assumption, because I don’t intentionally high pitch my voice, force a cheese ball bullshit sweet smile and act like some mofo fairy princess to address you, you automatically assume I am pissed off and rude. You know what is rude, fuck off, that can be rude. Today and the past couple days, I mean that with every bit of my hostel attitude. Fuck off.
Glorious Number Ten. fml. Does anyone else quiet understand just how draining it is? Putting on this bullshit perky cheerleader impersonation to not make someone else feel uncomfortable…. I try to do it every damn work day, and trust me, I do try, some days are just worse than others. By the time I scrape myself out of my office building at five to five thirty, I am emotionally exhausted. So needless to say, I get to the gym and eveyone is perky and “hiiii, how was your day” with smiles… I some days can barely mutter a grumble and a half smile or scowl. It’s nothing personal, I am just exhausted from bullshitting the people I am around five days a week for at least eight hours a day. I am not an angry person, but your constant acting/commenting like I am, does annoy me and eventually leads to anger. I have a limit on how long I can pretend to be nice to peole, depending on how late in the dy it is…that meter might just be pegged out.
Moving along… Number eleven. I really don’t think there is much else that can be said to this one…. Well, maybe. I have learned first hand, thin-skinned individuals will whine, complain and run to your boss thinking you are being rude, disrespectful (because they fell they are at a higher possition) all because you opened your mouth to make a suggestion or verbally correct someone…. Oh yeah, lesson learned. I will be more than happy to sit in the corner with my resting bitch face, silently judging how big of a train wreck you are in the process of releasing. Only to standby silently from now on and watch the impact….
Number elevennnnnn…… Giving directions. HA! Ever had a female drill sergeant give you directions? Mine is about as sugar coated and two notches down from yelling…maybe. I still prefer to thinking of it, as discussing or directing someone in a stern but firm tone. 🙂 I’d love to saying I’m completely joking, but I’m not. I am very matter of fact, very direct and to the point. I might even use my ‘knife-hand’ while verbally guiding you. What? Did you expect a detour for shoe shopping or your local candy-drenched café?
In the end, I’m not going to change. It’s too draining and some days I just do not have the temperment nor will to fake my way through the day. If I’m not talking that is a pretty damn good sign to leave me alone. Not come play warm and fuzzy pester me to tell you whats wrong. Some days you perky ray of sunshine fuckers are going to have to deal with my grump bitch face. Get over it. Stop taking it so personal, because it’s not. Unless I look directly at you and tell you to go away…or some colorful descriptive more elaborate verson of such.
-Inked Amazon Warrior