DELETE--Goodbye

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and she's ready to do the unthinkable: DELETE herself. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.

Question, when do you know when it's time to throw in the towel? What do you write about when you have nothing else to write about? When commiserating just stops working? Bottom line—I hate people. But what's more is I hate the way that I behave around people. So I'm going to say it folks...Ms. Sassy Pants is now DELETED.

Here are a few ways that I am instituting self-DELETION:

Facebook...my profile: DELETE. No more spending hours stalking people I just don't give two bleeps about.

People that can't consistently show up in my life...ever heard of "do what you say, say what you do?" If you can't do that, then you, as well as me, must be DELETED.

Blaming others for my lot in life...DELETE.

Intolerance of others behavior...who am I to stand in the way of others' happiness? DELETE the 'tude.

Judgment...I like to think I'm perfect—but I'm not. DELETE.

Gutter mouth...nothing is more attractive than a 30-something throwing around bleep this and frack that...not! DELETE.

Let's face it, I may have to make a guest appearance now and then. Maybe I'll bust out the story of Sassy and the three exes...yes they are BAAAACCCKKK. Just for old times sake. Good times. In the meantime...I've been DELETED.

5x5,
B.

Book Slayer's Note: I'm so truly sad to see Ms. Sassy Pants and her posts go....lucky for me, we're friends and I will still get to hear all her DELETES. And if you're all good, I may just share them with you! Farewell Sassy, you will be missed!

DELETE—Spring is springing a whole new crop of DELETES

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and she's taking on Spring and all that entails. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.

Ah...spring is in the air, warm weather, sunshine...you know what that means. The days are longer, people are out and I'm, of course, primed and ready to fire the latest rounds of DELETES. This past week was a prime example of what Spring has to offer up to the DELETE-table.

Let's take a look-see...

St. Patrick's Day...really?! In my opinion, it's only second to New Year's Eve for amateur night. Just another excuse to dress stupid, drink too much and act like a belligerent ass-wipe. DELETE.

Short shorts...now ladies (if I can call you that), do I need to see the creases of your ass cheeks? A tad much skin don't you think? Just a bit...DELETE!

Couples...Christ, make me puke why don't you. They're everywhere since love apparently is in the air. Kissing on the corner, in the subway, holding hands, making oogally googally eyes at each other. Step aside, I'm on my way to therapy. DELETE!

Rain, rain and more rain...and with that comes the umbrella Nazis. Taking up the sidewalk, poking my eyeballs out with your big, oversized umbrellas. DELETE.

Realizing I need to get into a bathing suit soon....Nothing's more fun than trying on bikinis in fluorescent lighting with the added benefit of seeing every dimple on my cottage cheese thighs in not one, but three-way mirrors. DELETE.

Losing an hour to daylight savings time....Boo! Hiss! I need my beauty sleep. DELETE.

See you next week kiddies.

5x5,
B.

DELETE--The crazies you meet on your way to work...

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and she's taking on the commuters of NYC. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.
My commute to and from work is a hotbed of material. In a nutshell, en masse, people are idiots. Shove them into mini canisters (a.k.a. a subway car) and chaos will ensue. Here are just a few observations that delighted me this week:

If you're sick, stay home. Hacking up a lung and spraying spittle all over the joint during your morning commute is not a sign of how dedicated you are to your job, it's a sign you're a douchebag for subjecting me to your mutant virus. DELETE!

Allowing your children to swing from the poles or use the seat as a place for them to lie down. Newsflash, this isn't a fu@king playground or your bedroom. DELETE!

To "parents" (if that's what you want to call them) who fail to teach their children proper etiquette and allow them to run around like little Gremlins. Loved the movie, not the reality...DELETE!

Squishing your fat ass into a space that's too small...your lack of spacial judgment is your prerogative, however subjecting me to enduring the weight of one of your ass cheeks is mine. Get off me Jabba. DELETE!

Over-sized bags or backpacks. Rule of thumb, if your bag takes up half the space you do it's too big. I really don't need to be knocked down by your gym bag—the emanating smell is bad enough—but slamming your parcel into my gut will get you gutted. DELETE!

Step into the train instead of gathering by the door like cattle...but I suppose if you're going to act like an animal you should be treated like one. DELETE!

If I can hear "Baby Got Back" pouring out of your headphones, baby...you need to get back. DELETE!

Ah...happy trails kiddies.

5x5,
B.

DELETE—Bar Bru-ha-ha

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and she's sick of the bru-ha-ha that goes on at bars. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.

Recently I went to go see a friend's band perform...at a bar. I have to admit it's been a while since I've hit "happy hour" or as I like to call it...unhappy hour. I'm much too refined and dignified to frequent such unseemly environments. Well that may be a stretch, but my point is, my experiences on said evening are most certainly DELETE-worthy.

I don't know if you can relate, but here are a few instances that come to mind:

Coworkers, after consuming a few cocktails, seem to think that they are now besties with the boss-man. Really? Can you breathe with your nose so far up his ass? DELETE!

Beware of any poles. Especially when little miss drunky decides that she is the sexiest (NOT) little muffin top in the room and begins to use the pole as a prop to bump and grind. Excuse me, this isn't a strip club. Hot Mess, party of one...your table is ready. DELETE!

Noise. Noise. Noise. Combine music, with the "lively" conversations of 100+ individuals and you have what I like to call the "kill me now" I can't hear a fracking thing factor. I'm here to listen to good music...not the latest office gossip. Shut your stinkin traps...DELETE!

Cat-calls, whistling, licking my face (yes I said it) or screaming of any kind...yo pal, I know I'm hot, but I'm a lady...treat me like one or go back to the barn that you crawled out of. DELETE!

Drink prices...obscene. Period. I shouldn't have to declare bankruptcy to enjoy a night out. DELETE!

So my advice folks...next time stay in, cuddle up with the one you love (whether it be animal or human) and enjoy a DELETE-free evening, sans bar.

5x5,
B.

DELETE—Look who's getting old

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and this week she's sick of getting older. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.

Simply put, I ain't getting any younger. And with the celebration of my (fill in the blank; a lady never ages and tells) birthday this past month, I began to realize just how OLD I'm getting. And that deserves a hefty DELETE.

So here are a few things to add to the "you know you're getting old when" list....

Songs you grew up to are now featured on the oldies station on Pandora radio. DELETE.

You start getting unsolicited issues of Prevention magazine. Uh, I'm still a Cosmo girl, thank you very much. DELETE.

You start to get spam emails from singles sites specializing in the 40 and over crowd...Newsflash Mr. Sensitivo, I'm not 40, so stop pushing it on me. DELETE.

People start calling you Ma'am. DELETE.

People at the beauty counter start offering you restorative as opposed to preventative creams...or just start offering you anti-wrinkle creams in general. DELETE.

People you went to high school with now have kids in college...now granted, where I come from, we start breeding in our teens so that isn't SUCH a stretch. DELETE.

Your body parts have fallen victim to gravity and now you need a sling for the girls...as a teen, we called it a bra, but now it's become a safety harness. DELETE.

Hair (the horror) and clothing styles (high-waisted jeans) from high school are making a comeback. DELETE.

You have to go to the salon to get a color "touch up" every four weeks in order to cover your natural "highlights"--a.k.a. gray hairs. DELETE.

Everything starts to crack when you get out of bed or stand up. DELETE.

You suddenly have to get up to pee more than once during the night. DELETE.

Forgetting people's names...but that can just be becuse I'm self absorbed. DELETE.

Whoever said age is just a number or a state of mind needs to be DELETED. We all know it's about what you look like on the outside that really counts. See you next week kiddies.

5x5,
B.

DELETE--A life without chocolate

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and this week she's trying to imagine a life without chocolate. HINT: It's not pretty. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.

After awakening from my food-induced coma last weekend, which was a direct result of my massive consumption of chocolate (yes, I was one of those bitches shoving my face with chocolates while thinking about that "perfect" relationship), I thought to myself, what would my life be like without chocolate? So here is a brief peek into what my life would be like without my soul's companion.

I would be really skinny...sounds good right? Wrong. Ever run into a starving animal? Vicious I tell you. DELETE!

PMS gone wild, add quick wit and intellect...be afraid, very afraid. DELETE!

Lying in bed for days as a result of boys behaving badly. It would be a huge injustice to rid the world of my delightful presence. DELETE!

Crying all the time as a result of the PMS gone wild and boys behaving badly. All of my anger and despair would cause the development of premature worry lines and wrinkles. Hot? Not. DELETE!

Picture a crazy raving witch. Sweating, delirious, hair all askew in an old nighty. Sound like something out of a horror movie? No, that's just me, on a good day, when I'm off of chocolate. DELETE!

As much as I hate to admit it, chocolate has been a life saver in times of need. Comforted me when all hope was lost, kept me from getting wrinkles for the love of Pete! So just like all of my relationships...this love/hate affair will carry on.

5x5,
B.

DELETE--Who shot Cupid?

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and this week she's got beef with good, ole Cupid. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.

Ah Valentine's Day. The dreaded holiday of all singletons. Or as I like to call it: You're a Loser if You're Not in a Relationship Day. You just can't get away from it. It's a constant kick in the face; everywhere I turn, there it is. From my doorman asking me, "why don't you have a boyfriend?" to the numerous New York Times articles outlining how difficult it is for women to find love in the City. Apparently there are over 100,000 more single women in NYC than men. Why don't you just kill me now? Apparently, I'm going to have to move to Alaska to find a soulmate. For the love! So my ladies...I'm sure you know where this is going. Valentine's Day...DELETE!

Here are just a few of the cliche's that need to be DELETED around this bullshit holiday:

Boxes of chocolates. Really? The only people eating those chocolates are the single girls who are at home alone watching rom-coms and getting fatter by the minute...DELETE!

Getting flowers at the office. Any woman who displays flowers sent by admirers today should be stoned--publicly--and then have her pretty petals taken away. Period. DELETE!

Romantic candlelit dinners. I can't see the bleepin menu because of the dim lights. And by the way...a few open flames and a hot meal doesn't mean you're getting laid. DELETE!

Getting engaged. Oh wow, how original. Getting engaged on Valentine's Day. That's SOOOOO romantic. DELETE!

Gaggles of single bitches going out to celebrate being single. Oh please! You look desperate and pathetic. And we all know you're really going out to troll for men, so enough already. Go home and eat some chocolates. From a box. DELETE!

And on that note, I'm off to kick some cupid ass and break some arrows. Until next week...

5x5,

B.

DELETE--Breakup B!tch!

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and this week, she's dealing with a break-up. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.

Happy Birthday to me...Happy Birthday to me...Haaaapppyyyyyy Birrrrrttthhhhday Ms. blah blah blah. Birthdays...one word DELETE. As far as I'm concerned, once you're past the age of 21, they really don't mean much. And once you're over the age of thirty, we just celebrate the 1st, 2nd or 3rd anniversary of our 30th birthday...or at least that's what I do.

Of course there are presents and those are worth mentioning. However, after this birthday, the plan is to stock up on cats and settle in with some moth balls and knitting needles, because it's official...I'm another year older, and newly single in NYC, which in my book, is a death sentence.

So yes, I said it kiddies: I'm single. The super hot boyfriend is no more and as a birthday present to myself, I kicked him to the curb. Why you ask? Well let's just take a look at the list of reasons why he had to be DELETED.

Going radio silent for days on end. DELETE.

Dating—or should I say, warehousing—other women, just to keep his options open. I'm an only child, buddy, and don't like to share. DELETE.

Calling—oh I'm sorry, texting—the night of our scheduled birthday dinner celebration and canceling because he supposedly broke his nose playing basketball. Can't take me out, but still managed to finish your game? DELETE.

Lying about said injury (because you know he was). Or lying period. DELETE.

He's over 30 and still lives at home. DELETE.

He's over 30 and can't quite hold down a job and is currently unemployed. DELETE.

His primary choice of communication is text and he seems to have an aversion to picking up the phone and talking to a real person. DELETE.

He never kept his promises or even followed through with the simplest of plans. DELETE.

He stood me up on more than one occasion. I just attributed it to him being a bit flaky. I might have been blinded by his supreme hotness and height—now I realize he's just a double-sized douche. DELETE.

So note to self...hotness does not equal greatness. Most likely, after this go around, I'll be taking a sabbatical from dating. However, when I hit the scene again, I'm sure I'll have plenty of new material for you.

5x5,
B.

DELETE—What's Wrong with Public Transportation

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and this week, she's tackling public transportation. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.

Ah...one of the benefits of living in NYC is taking public transportation. Especially when mother nature decides to drop a s#!t-ton of snow on the city like last week. But along with public transportation comes, well, the public...a.k.a. people. And you all know how I feel about people...all at once now kiddies: I hate them.

This week, I decided to dedicate my top-10 list of annoyances to the good old MTA and also to the denizens that partake...DELETE!

10. People who lean their bodies against the pole instead of holding onto them. Hey there missy, I'd like the opportunity to secure myself, in case the train has to stop short. So, step away from the pole and hold on like a dignified human being or sit your ass down, Princess. DELETE!

9. Anyone that eats on the train. I don't need to go home smelling like your last meal. DELETE!

8. Spitting on the floor of the train. Oh yeah, it happens. 'Nuff said. DELETE!

7. Mariachi bands on the train. I don't like them in Mexican restaurants, so I most certainly don't need to be held hostage and forced to listen to bad music on the way to my final destination. DELETE!

6. Anyone soliciting money...period. DELETE!

5. Loud and obnoxious drunk people. They generally travel in packs like gypsies. DELETE!

4. The guy who thinks there's just enough room for him to squeeze onto a packed train. Hey pal, I enjoy breathing. Newsflash, there's another train right behind this one. So, step off...DELETE!

3. Inappropriate touching of any kind. This is usually performed by the douchebag who squeezes into the train at the last minute and thinks the train is his own personal playground. If you value your family jewels sir, keep yours to yourself. DELETE!

2. And speaking of inappropriate touching, that includes touching yourself. The other day during my morning commute, there was a man sitting across from me with his T-shirt pulled over his head covering his face but exposing his oh-so-sloppy, hairy midriff. But his belly wasn't the only thing that was bulging. Yes, I said it, he also had his hand down his drawers. Not-so-good morning to you too, Mr. Pervy. DELETE!

1. Anyone who gives their children a noise-making device of any kind. Last Friday, on my way home from a horrific week, the woman sitting across from me gave each of her children a recorder. You remember the ones from grade school music class? Are you kidding me?!?! When she whipped them out of the case I thought they must've been plastic toys. Oh no, they weren't. So these little piggies blew, blew, blew all the way home. DELETE!

It just doesn't get any better than this folks! Hope your morning commute is better than mine!

5x5,
B.

DELETE—Moving Day

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and this week, she's taking on her big move. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.

As you may or may not know, I moved recently, and with that comes hiccups. Moving is a tad stressful, and believe me, I've had plenty of opportunities to flip a switch. But as the lady of dignity and grace that I am, I just take passive aggressive action and bitch about it here...and then administer a few mental eye rolls when nobody's watching.

So, what's more worthy of a big, fat DELETE than moving into a new place? Well, as a housewarming present, I give you the highlights of my move:

photo credit: The CW/Gossip Girl

Neighbors. Now that I live in a co-op I have plenty of them. Some are lovely and some...not so much. For example, calling the doorman to complain about noise (a.k.a. me walking around my apartment) instead of marching your ass upstairs, knocking politely on the door and asking me to tread softly, deserves a big fat slap in the face...or in this case I can settle for a DELETE.

Parking in NYC. Are you kidding me? The day of my move there was an ice storm (note to self: living in the Northeast...DELETE) and the City had suspended alternate side of the street parking. So, Little Ms. Sassy Pants had to get creative in a pinch. What did I do you ask? I parked on the bloody sidewalk. Wouldn't you? So, to no parking in Manhattan and all of the absurd rules there are here...DELETE.

People offering their opinion when loading the van. Unless you roll up your bleeping sleeves and offer a hand, you douche, why don't you step off and shut your trap. I have my own debate going on in my head and I don't need you adding to the peanut gallery. DELETE.

Unpacking. One word...DELETE. But maybe in the process I can "accidentally" drop one or two boxes just to pay tribute to my kind neighbor downstairs.

photo credit: Warner Home Video/Friends

Laundry room etiquette. True story. The kind, considerate person that I am, I only use ONE washing machine. Let me reiterate: ONE. So I go down to reload the ONE machine I was using and this woman (if you can call her that...I prefer the term beastly nuisance) said she wanted to use my machine. I assumed she had been waiting for one to open up, so I was ready to relinquish my claim and concede. But something didn't smell right...must have been coming from her since she just crawled out of her cave. I asked, "Are you using any other machine?" And the beast responded, "yes, I'm using these as well." She was using ALL of the other machines! The nerve of her! Trying to get her paws all over my one remaining machine. And then, just when you think it can't get any worse, she commences with the most despicable act of them all. She pulled the "baby" card. She had a baby sleeping upstairs and didn't want to be running back and forth to the laundry room. Who leaves a child alone to do laundry? Oh yeah, that's right. A friggin beast. DELETE.

Ahhhh...good times in Chez Sassy.

5x5,
B.

DELETE--How to spot a jerk.

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and this week, she's got some tips on how to spot a jerk. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.

So, as you know, I now have a Hot Boyfriend who helps me paint AND move. But there have been other guys in the past who haven’t treated me like the princess I am. I'm so glad that I’m no longer in the ring a.k.a. the NYC dating scene. I hope to soon have a different sort of “ring” to look forward to, and DELETE all those bad dates and man behavior from my memory once and for all.

I would be doing the world a disservice if I didn’t share my extensive experience with the masses. Someone's got to warn you about the emotional vampires lurking in unsuspecting places, just waiting to attack! Here are a few of the warning signs that maybe things aren't really headed in the right direction.

You’ve been dating seriously for a couple of months but when you leave his house one morning, he says, “I’ll call you soon.” Soon? Really? DELETE.

He goes radio silent over Valentine’s Day weekend…never to be heard from again. Unless you’ve been abducted by aliens, illegal or extraterrestrial, DELETE.

When he invites you out to dinner at 7:30 and then texts you at 10:00 to let you know that he is going to stay in for the night...DELETE.

If he ever utters the words, “Don’t fall in love with me.”...DELETE.

If he asks you what you're going to do when he breaks your heart...DELETE.

If he sends you photos of “junior”...DELETE.

If his idea of a first date includes a “rub down” of any kind...DELETE.

If he refers to your chest as a “nice rack”...DELETE.

If he hosts after-parties…just for girls. Let me put it to you this way, “Hugh”…DELETE.

He goes dark for a week, and then out of the blue, sends you a text to see how you are. Well as far as you’re concerned, I might as well be dead, because you won’t be hearing from me again, sir...DELETE.

Good luck out there.

5x5,

B.

DELETE—Painting's Partners

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and this week, she's seriously annoyed with painting...and her new boyfriend...and not necessarily in that order. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.

I hate people...but I hate painting even more. As much as I love the end result, the process BLOWS. And what’s even more annoying, the comments from the peanut gallery (a.k.a. the boyfriend). All this time spent bitching and moaning about being single, well let me tell ya ladies and gents, the grass ain’t always greener.

So let me put it to you this way: having a hot boyfriend that's at your beck and call AND who helps you paint…yes, please! Having a hot boyfriend with a brain AND an opinion while you're painting…DELETE.

So here's a brief insight into the dialogue that went on this weekend:

Hot Boyfriend: "This is the color you’re going with?" Hot Girlfriend (that’s me): "You’re in my apartment holding the can of paint...did you think I’m just collecting paint for shits and giggles? Yes, that's the color I’m going with...is there a problem?" DELETE!

Hot Boyfriend: "This tape isn’t straight…this is how you need to do it." Hot Girlfriend: "I don’t remember needing instructions on anything last night, so how about not telling me what to do now? Okay? Thanks." DELETE!

Hot Girlfriend to Hot Boyfriend after his diatribe about how to "properly roll” the paint: “I understand how a roller works, so you can spare me the commentary. Or are you just doing a piece for the Times?” DELETE!

Hot Girlfriend to Hot Boyfriend when he started comparing his painting skills to hers: "I'm sorry...I didn’t realize this was a competition. As far as I’m concerned you should be doing all the painting." So, by actually making me paint at all? DELETE!

Hot Girlfriend to Hot Boyfriend when he stepped in paint and tracked it all around the apartment: "This isn't a barn." DELETE!

So, next week I’ll be moving into aforementioned apartment. I’m sure THAT will provide endless DELETE material...stay tuned!

5x5,

B.

DELETE—Keep your friends close...

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and this week, she's fed up with passive-aggressive BS. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.

photo credit: The CW/90210

Recently I was having a conversation with a friend (yes, I have them) and he said something extremely off-putting and then had the nerve to follow up with “I’m just kidding.” Really? Were you now? Or were you really speaking the truth, veiled by a joke? Truth in humor, we all know exists, but just how much can we take of this round-about-way of stating your opinion? Cut to the chase buddy…as far as I’m concerned (and that is clearly all that matters here) this is one phrase that should be DELETED from our vocabulary.

But before we DELETE it forever, here are a few others that should be eliminated as well. How about…

Do you ever stop talking? I’m just kidding…I love listening to your stories. DELETE.

You’re wearing that? I’m just kidding…concert tees are so retro. DELETE.

Is your boyfriend always so boring? I’m just kidding…he seems like an excellent listener. DELETE.

Have you gained weight? I’m just kidding…you look so healthy! DELETE.

What did you do to your hair? I’m just kidding…platinum blonde is so 50’s bombshell. DELETE.

Your apartment is actually smaller than mine—I didn’t know that was possible! I’m just kidding…it’s so cozy. DELETE.

I love you. I’m just kidding...I just wanted to see what you were going to say. DELETE.

I’m still hooking up with my ex. I’m just kidding...Or am I? Just kidding…or not. DELETE.

photo credit: Bravo/Real Housewives of Beverly Hills

Why are you such an asshole? Just kidding…I love your directness. DELETE.

Ever heard of personal space? Just kidding…you're so intimate. DELETE.

Alright kiddies…I’m sure you can take it from here.

5x5,

B.

DELETE—New Years, Shmoo Years

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and this week, she's dying to DELETE all the drama surrounding New Years Eve. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.
If there's anything I hate more than people, it's New Year’s Eve. Or more appropriately named, "Amateur Night." What could possibly be more fun than running around in zero-degree weather trying to get a cab to some “swanky” party filled with people…well, you know where this is going.

So, in ode to my least favorite holiday…here’s my list of 10 things that must be DELETED from NYE:

Party horns. I’m already another year older and closer to losing my hearing due to blasting my headphones on the subway so I don’t hear your stupid conversations…so I don’t need you blowing out what’s left of my eardrums with your stupid noise-makers. That’s not going to make me happy, happy. It’s just going to make me deaf, deaf…DELETE.

Party hats. They look stupid and they cut off the circulation in my face…DELETE.

Times Square. I would rather be stoned to death than venture to this part of Manhattan on this night. So totally overrated…DELETE.

Kissing at midnight. Whoever started this tradition needs to be shot. The last thing I need to witness at the turn of the New Year is some happy couple smoochy-smooching, solidifying the fact that I’m still single and alone. Kill me now—or preferably, them...DELETE.

Auld Lang Syne. Newsflash...no one knows the words to this song…DELETE.

Drunk dudes. I may be single but I’m not desperate. Screaming “I love you for real” is not going to convince me to go home with you. Well, maybe...NOT. DELETE.

Hangovers…DELETE.

Cocktail dresses. Though the results are phenomenal, squeezing into sausage casing for the evening does not make for a good time. I’d rather be in my flannel pajamas, eating Indian food and watching a rom-com or a marathon of "Friends" episodes. And you wonder why I’m still single...DELETE.

Another year older. WTF! This madness needs to stop. Well, I guess that's what Botox is for...DELETE.

Staying up until midnight. I don't know about you, but I need my beauty sleep…DELETE.

So friend’s it’s been real. See you next year! And be sure to include your own DELETES in the comments below!

5x5,

B.

DELETE—The basket-case co-worker.

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and this week, her complaints are of those she works with from 9-5. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.

My therapist says to let it all out (Yes, I have a therapist. Are you really that surprised? Just imagine what this weekly rant would be like if I didn’t.), so I’ll get to the point and let it all out.

photo credit: NBC/The Office

In my industry, I work with a lot of "creative types.” The kind who feel they have to “make their mark,” or as I like to call it, “rub there stank” all over every project. Recently I had an exchange with one of these overbearing "artistic gurus” (his term not mine…I’m sure you can see where this is going). We partnered up on a project and I set forth on my journey to accommodate his “needs.”

Unfortunately the only “needs” that were being met, was his “need” to control every aspect of the process (I realize my excessive use of quotation marks. This is the direct result of being mentally accosted by this crazy co-worker.). Was he mental? He must have been, because his behavior wasn't appropriate by any means, and frankly it just warranted the creation of a new class of DELETE.

DELETE due to insanity.

Here are just a few worthy examples of his complete and utter insanity (and in turn, his reason for DELETION):

He comes over to your desk to download and dump crap on you just because he doesn't have anything better to do…DELETE. Apparently you didn't know that I’m very busy and important.

He wastes your time (note above)…DELETE.

He talks to you while you're trying to ignore him...In other words, his mouth is moving, but he can’t seem to see that you're not listening. FYI, I have my headphones on for a reason, douche. DELETE.

He exhibits neurotic behavior of any kind…DELETE.

He thinks the world is out to get him…Get away from me, you paranoid freak! DELETE.

He's controlling in any way…DELETE.

He only wears the color blue...is that some crazy reflection of your mood, groucho? DELETE.

He whines to others in person or in an e-mail. You're a freaking adult, so stop acting like you’re two…DELETE.

His passive-aggressive BS. Tell it like it is pal…DELETE.

On another note...did I forget to I mention that I went out on a date with the guy in question? Now it all makes sense. Guess I’ll have something to talk about in therapy next week!

5x5,

B.

DELETE—Douchebag Dating Behavior

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and this week, she's delving even deeper into the mind (and behavior) of the opposite sex. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.

In light of my dating debacles from last week, I started to give some serious consideration to douchebag behavior, and how it's become a running theme in my life. Is it me? I feel like a host to a viral infection. Lately it’s been like Night of the Living Douchebags around this joint.

I'd be doing a disservice to women everywhere if I didn’t share my experience and insight into spotting a douchebag...Hopefully you'll be able to save yourself before it's too late. So, line up those crosshairs and get ready to fire…DELETE to the douche.

Here are a few things to watch out for…and keep in mind that these are (sadly) all actual occurrences:

He sips his wine with his pinky finger extended…DELETE.

He just has to mention the clothing label he's wearing—like I care…DELETE.

He asks if you play tennis, because he's so highbrow and sophisticated…DELETE.

He asks how much money you make. Wait, isn't that supposed to be what I ask him? DELETE.

He uses big words to sound more intellectual…DELETE.

He uses you for a place to stay while he's in town to pick up chicks…DELETE.

He brags about what area of town he lives in as casual conversation…for example, why don’t you come over to my apartment in (insert area…most likely a well-regarded part of town, however, their apartment is really the size of a postage stamp)…DELETE.

He tells you about the other girls he's dating…DELETE.

He's already slept with one of your coworkers… DELETE.

He brags about certain periodicals that he reads…DELETE.

He doesn't follow up or follow through when he says he will. If you say you're going to call on Tuesday, then you should. Thursday doesn’t count, doucheballs…DELETE.

He wears fur…DELETE.

He has an entire wall of photos dedicated to just himself. Hello, Mr. Ego…party of one, your table's ready! DELETE.

So, until I can get my life sorted out and stop attracting Mr. McDouchebags…I trust that you all will stand united and DELETE away. Just don’t, for the love of God, send them my way.
5x5,
B.

DELETE—Dating Drama

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and this week, she's tackling the wild world of dating. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.

Launching into the world of dating is no easy feat. And in reality, my life is more like an episode of "Punked" than "Sex in the City." I think I'd rather stay in, curled up in my bed, watching a marathon of "30 Rock" and stuffing my face with pizza, than have to endure another first date. All the BS conversation, asking questions about things you really don’t give two shits about. The bottom line is, I just want to know if I can spend more than an hour with you without multiple eye-rolls.

But once you get past that first date, establish somewhat of a rapport and start doing the dating rituals...that's when things can get a little sticky. How do you know when things are working, when they’re not and when you need to cut your losses and hit DELETE?

Here are a few things that should tip you off that your potential beau is more DELETE-worthy than DATE-worthy:

If they ask if your boobs are real…DELETE.

If they tell you how many girls they've slept with in the past 3 weeks…DELETE.

If they say they like looking at your photos on Facebook...every few hours…DELETE.

If they brag about having "seasonal" girlfriends…DELETE.

If they collect action figures of any kind...DELETE.

If they want to meet your parents after the first date…DELETE.

If they spend more time on their hair than you do…DELETE.

If they have an IV filled with booze…DELETE.

If they don’t want you to meet their friends…DELETE.

If they still live with their parents…DELETE.

Thumb rings. Stole this one from "30 Rock"…thank you Liz Lemon. DELETE.

If they expect you to cook them dinner on your first date…Martha Stewart doesn’t bleepin live here…DELETE.

If they remotely remind you of a cast member from the "Jersey Shore"…DELETE.

If they talk baby talk...Mama-Wama doesn't likey the Baby-Waby tawk…DELETE.

And this is just a short list. I’m sure I’ll have to revisit and revise as the weeks pass. Let’s face it, I’m not getting any younger and the pizza eventually will start to take it’s toll. But in the meantime, my finger is armed, ready and might I add just a bit trigger-happy to hit DELETE.

5x5,

B.

DELETE—Thanksgiving run riot

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and this week, she's trying to recover from her Thanksgiving travels. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.

Good news! I survived Thanksgiving—but just barely. I could probably dedicate an entire year to travel etiquette but I'll try to condense my dismay to one brief blog.

So, off I went for a rendezvous with my loving family. We got to the train later than expected (my bad) so seats were sparse. I was traveling with a few friends, and we were searching for seats together and wahlah—God smiled down upon us and granted us four seats together. All was right in the world…or so we thought.

In the seat across from me was a 20-something who was practically unconscious from the night before. He reeked of booze and was blasting his headphones at a decibel that could legally be considered a noise violation. As we all tried to get situated, he “pretended” to be asleep so he wouldn’t have to scoot over. He’s lucky I didn’t plant a knee “accidentally” in his nut-sack. Oh excuse me…do those belong to you? You could have fooled me since you didn’t have the balls to act like a courteous human being…must be time for a big, fat…DUH-LETE!

Oh, and it gets better. After sleeping beauty awoke from his slumber, he reached into a giant paper bag and pulled out the first of what was probably many holiday spirits. I swear, he must have shaken it up before he cracked it open, because he was considerate enough to shower me with beer…not once, but twice for good measure. I guess he must have mistaken me for a vessel that needed to be christened on my maiden voyage to Connecticut.

Don’t try to take advantage of MY “holiday spirit,” pal. Just because it’s Thanksgiving doesn’t give you the right to behave like a douchebag (you can see how far I got with my positive affirmations from last week…ho hum…at least I tried). So here are a few things to be aware of while traveling for the holidays:

Anyone who's unconscious on public transportation…be wary…DELETE.

Baby strollers parked in the aisles or seats on public transportation…fold it up and put it in the luggage racks. We know you're stressed and have your hands full, but when that kid starts wailing, I need a clear exit strategy. So get your sh*t out of the way…DELETE.

When exiting a train, plane, taxi or bus with more than four “humans” (if that's what you want to consider yourself) in your party...don’t stand in the middle of the street, platform or exit ramp deciding the next plan of action. You’ve had hours of travel time to decide what to do and you should be moving like it’s Mission Impossible…DELETE.

Families holding hands like they're forming a riot barrier. Oh, wait. You are forming a riot barrier...and I'm unable to pass or get around you. DELETE.

People who stand right on top of you when waiting in line. If I can smell your last meal on your breath, you're too close. Step off, fool…DELETE.

Ahhhh…it’s great to be baaaacccckkkk!

5x5,

B.

DELETE--Gratitude not ATTITUDE

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and this week, she's trying something new for a change: Gratitude! Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few of your own.

In light of the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday, I figured I'd try hanging up the snarky 'tude and get down to some real “thanks-giving.” I blame it on the time of year, the change of seasons and holiday cheer. So for one week (and one week only)…I’m going to attempt to do the opposite and see if I can go from hating people to tolerating people.

So what, you ask, does that mean? Well, this will most certainly be a work in progress, but whenever a negative attitude or thought crops up over the next week, it must be DELETED immediately. For example, if someone is walking too slowly in front of me and I’m late for an appointment…instead of pushing them into a bag of garbage on the side of the street (like I might want to)…I’ll take a deep breath, slow down and think of one thing that I’m thankful for. Here are a few items I added to my arsenal this week:

My friend Britt and her love of all things pink. Every time I see pink I think of her and that is a gift…my own version of rose-colored glasses.

The beauty of New York City at night. Even though living here provides me with unlimited sources of material for this column…it truly is magical.

The little noises my cat makes when he sleeps. I think he might actually be a dog that just looks like a cat.

80’s music. Enough said.

Spending Turkey Day with my family and laughing at our neuroses year after year. Every year my mother plans out the menu minute by minute. From when the turkey goes into the oven to when the potatoes need to be peeled. And every year something goes wrong that sets the whole plan into a tailspin. And every year I get to sit back and enjoy the chaos unfold around me. But at the end of the day, when our bellies are full…the drama is all forgotten.

Next week, after being held hostage by my family during Thanksgiving, I’m sure Ms. Sassy Pants will be back to her usual DELETEful self. Happy Gobble, Gobble!

5x5,

B.

DELETE—Little Miss Pukey Pants

by Brittany Geragotelis

Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and trying to figure out whose fault it is that she fell sick this weekend. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETE's of your own.

This weekend was supposed to be the weekend of all weekends. I had plans to attend an annual fundraiser that I haven’t missed in three years. I had the dress picked out; I had appointments to have my hair and makeup professionally done—Ms. Sassy Pants was on her way to becoming Ms. Fancy Pants—until I woke up on Saturday morning and felt the strangest sensation...Like my insides were about to be ripped out! And then I got sick. How could this have happened?!? All my plans had been DELETED!

Bottom line: I wished that I could've just been DELETED. No human should ever have to endure the misery I went through. I felt like I was a victim of the bubonic plague. It was seriously worse than any hangover you could imagine (and I've had my fair-share). As I was claiming squatters-rights to the bathroom, I began to run through a list of culprits that could've been responsible for my weekend's downfall.

So, here we go…the list of possible causes to my most recent plight:

The guy in the subway that was sucking on chicken bones and then throwing them at me. You just know they were full of e-coli or botulism or some sort of melt-your-insides type of bacteria. I don’t know if I was part of some sort of twisted voo-doo ritual or if the guy just had a screw loose, but throwing chicken bones in the subway…DELETE!

The girl that claimed the bathroom stall right next to me. The entire bathroom was empty and she just had to use the stall right next to mine. I'm sure it was a part of her evil plan to spread her sicky-poo germs all over unsuspecting victims. And, hello?!?! Some privacy please? DELETE!

The co-worker who insisted on coming in to work with her runny nose and glassy eyes after being attacked by some sort of virus. I personally think it was a Night of the Living Dead-type sickness because that’s how she looked—and how I felt—after she spread the mutant virus onto me. If you are sick or have been attacked by a zombie, don’t go in to work…DELETE!

Chocolate syrup. How could this have made the list, you ask? With all of the delicious goodness it has to offer? Apparently you're supposed to keep it refrigerated after opening. Probably not a good idea then, to make a shake with chocolate syrup that has been sitting in the cabinet for two weeks after being opened and not refrigerated. They should have made that print a little larger…DELETE!

So kiddies…Ms. Sassy Pants is now on the mend and coming around slowly. Today’s blog was almost in danger of being DELETED due to this recent mishap (I know that would've been a tragedy) but the show must go on.

See you next week and stay away from booze, bums, zombies and chocolate syrup and you should have a happy, healthy week ahead.

5x5,

B.