Archive | January, 2012

I’m Just as Stupid as the Next Girl

27 Jan

The wonderful world of dating often makes girls turn incredibly stupid.  Open mouth breathing, eyes rolling, drooling kind of stupid.  You all know I’ve had an online dating profile up for quite some time.  I took a break from dating last year.  For the first time in umpteen months I have a date.  This Sunday, I’m going out with a dude.  The logical part of me says that we’ll go out, it’ll be pleasant, there will be zero chemistry and it will have been a waste o’ time.

BUT this afternoon I caught myself jumping ahead 100 steps.  These thoughts actually went through my mind:

  1. I need to buy a new outfit for my date.  I’ll probably have to go out and get new bras and underwear once we start sleeping together.
  2. He lives in Jersey and works in the city.  I live and work in the burbs.  Which one of us will move if it works out?  He really loves his house, and I don’t want to commute from Jersey.
  3. I have plans to go to NYC in early March, hotel room is booked.  Maybe I should wait to invite my mom and see if it works out with this guy and he and I can go together.
  4. Two weeks is a long time to be away from someone over the summer.  Wonder if he’d fly up to the Vineyard to spend a few days with me and my family.

I actually thought those things.  All of them.  When I realized what I was doing I started laughing at myself.

Why do we do this?  Why do we immediately start into planning the future before even shaking the other person’s hand?  It’s so totally absurd, yet every single girl I know starts all of that stupid shit when they meet someone new.

Suddenly that crazy girl I mentioned in my last post doesn’t seem quite as stupid as she did before.  Sure, she’s holding on to a relationship that’s super duper dead.  She told me a few weeks ago how she thought she had met someone she could spend her life with – before they went on their first date.  I thought she was totally ridiculous.  AND THEN I go and start planning the same kind of shit.

Look, I don’t delude myself that this dude is the one.  I don’t even know if we’ll make it to the second date, but I do know that the mere thought of having in my life puts me in auto-planning mode.  That just puts added pressure on the whole thing and takes the fun out of everything.  I need to knock that shit off immediately if not sooner.  So, yeah, I’m stupid, just like the next girl.

This Train is About to Derail

25 Jan

Nothing makes my day like having lunch with a hot mess.  There’s something so sigh-worthy about meeting someone who is clearly more messed up than you.  It’s a way to validate that we’re not as crazy as we think, and gives us the chance to be thankful for what we have.

This afternoon I had lunch with a new friend of mine, and all I could think was, “this chick is a train wreck and I can’t wait to go home and blog about it.”  You can’t begin to imagine how difficult it was to stay rooted in my seat and command myself not to roll my eyes.  Maintaining my eyes in a fixed position was physically painful, I still have a headache.  This was hard, people.  Harder than turning down a free drink from George Clooney.  That hard.  I was riveted by her stupid stories, and appalled at her low self esteem all at the same time.  It was amazing.

I haven’t known her for very long, but she seemed nice and funny enough.  I know a few dudes at work who can’t stand her and think she’s too emotionally needy.  Instead of taking that as a big fat red flag, I chalked it all up to them being dudes.  Christ, they were so right.  I can’t wait to talk about her behind her back tomorrow at work.  It’ll be magical.

She’s completely hung up on this dude who broke up with her.  The break up happened over five months ago, and she is still reduced to tears when she talks about him.  Total mess.  Crazy part?  They dated for seven weeks.  She’s been mourning the relationship longer than it actually lasted.  She told me she ran into him at a happy hour last Wednesday, and when he ignored her, she proceeded to run to the bathroom and sob uncontrollably.  Heaving sighs, mascara running down her face, saliva dripping from her mouth hysterical.  Her friends had to rescue her, dry her eyes and tell her to get it together.  Instead of leaving, she did what any stupid idiot would do, got completely bombed and then confronted him.  90 minutes, 2 Jaeger shots, and 3 beers later she cornered him, told him she still loved him, started crying and begged him for another chance.  You can imagine how that ended.

So she’s sitting across the table from me telling me this story and all I could think to myself was, “how does this girls make it through the day without slapping herself for being so incredibly stupid.”  She actually teared up when she recounted the story and I had to talk her down from crying.

She then went totally bipolar on me and told me how excited she was because she found out an old boyfriend of hers was going to be in town.  A college boyfriend who was the best sex she had ever had.  She was SUPER excited to see him.  I asked her why things hadn’t worked out and she told me because he was a total asshole, and he didn’t want a relationship with her.  She made herself available to him (or she made her vagina available to him), he’d fuck her, and then he’d end up dating other girls.  Meanwhile, she’d wait around for him to “see the light” and realize she was the one for him.  Look, I’ve been there too, but it’s been a good 10 years since I deluded myself with that story.  Fact: if the dude is fucking you but not committing to you, he will NEVER commit to you.  The only thing he wants from you is your vagina.

I played it all calm and asked her how it had come about that they would see each other.  So she proceeded to tell me they had been messaging back and forth on facebook and that’s how she knew.  “Oh!  I have the messages right here.  I’ll read you the chain!”  Goody, I was psyched.

  • Him: [Facebook status update] I’m going to be in town from Feb. 15-25th.  Hit me up if you want to get together.
  • Her: [via private Facebook message] I’d love to see you!  It’s been way too long.  Let’s definitely make plans to see each other so we can catch up.  Wink wink, nudge nudge.
  • Him: Hey, you!  I’ll see what I can do.  Might not be able to make it, but will let you know.

She was sure that he meant he’d clear his schedule.  To me that translates into, “I’ll visit your vagina if I can’t come up with anything better to do.”



24 Jan

I am totally hammered right now.

It’s not even 8:00 on a Tuesday evening.  I am amazing and awesome.

Things I Will Never Do

24 Jan

We all have our limits.  Some people just say no to, like having anal sex with married strangers, others say no to getting on an airplane.  Whatever, to each his or her own.

For me, I have specific no-no’s.  Here’s my list, cuz I know you totally care.

  • Anal:  I will NOT do it.  You can’t make me.  When I was dating 3D he used to try to talk me into it, mainly because I was so turned off by it.  Several times we made bets where if I had lost I would have had to put out the butt hole.  I, however, was smart and only took the bets when I knew I would win.  At 38 I’ve made it without it, I can easily make it the rest of my life without it.
  • Shopping at Wal-mart.  I have a college degree and a pretty good salary.  I don’t care how much cheaper something is at Wal-mart, you cannot make me shop there.  Just pulling into the parking lot makes me want to vomit.  Ever notice that no matter how new the Wal-mart is it always looks dirty and there’s merchandise all over the floor?  No thank you, I pass.
  • Eating oysters.  It’s like swallowing someone else’s cold loogie or a was of cold splooge.  No.
  • Dating a dude with a choker.  If he’s wearing a choker, there’s something wrong with him.  Especially as you get nearer to my age.  Name one hot dude close to 38 who wears a choker ON PURPOSE without getting paid for it.  You can’t, because such a man doesn’t exist.

Now you.  I want to know what you won’t do.  Go.

The Good Old Days

22 Jan

We get all nostalgic and shit over “the good old days”.  Yeah, it’s nice to think about how things used to be.  It was nice being able to go out of the house as a child and not worry about getting kidnapped and/or dismembered.  And there were definitely bonuses to living in a time when it wasn’t so scary going to high school.  The scariest thing to happened to me is having to deal with a teacher who didn’t change his shirt for the entire year.  I went to three different high schools, and the girls at my second high school were probably sluttier than teenage girls are today.

I was a junior in high school when my family moved to Baltimore – shitty time to move.  Like idiots, we listened to the real estate agent about schools.  She told us that the public schools were the way to go and private schools were terrible in Baltimore.  Shortly after starting my Junior year we realized the real estate agent was a complete idiot.  The public schools were where all the people without resources went.  I went to an all girls school and there were fights all the time, all the time.  There were clumps of weave that would roll down the hallways like tumble weeds.  Not a pleasant time for a girl who was raised in a middle class world.

My first day in the cafeteria my jaw almost hit the floor when I saw not one, but seven pregnant girls.  I had never seen that before.  And when one day my classmates in English started talking about whether/not they took their jewelry off when the had sex with their boyfriends I almost cried.  I had never ever been in the presence of such whores.

Look, I’m all about sleeping around and giving it up as often as possible, but when 14-17 year old girls are doing it, it’s freaking gross.  I have zero problem with the idea of my sister and bro-in-law locking up my niece in the closet until her 21st birthday.  In fact, I encourage it.  I don’t want to hear stories of her sexting someone when she’s 11 years old.  Or having her get caught giving her 13 year old boyfriend a wristie in the back of his mom’s car.

I do consider myself fortunate that I wasn’t exposed to any of that kind of stuff until after I turned 15.  It was nice living a sheltered life when the biggest concern was who made out with who.  You can never get that innocence back once it’s gone.  And I for one, am happy I couldn’t add any value to that whore conversation in my English class on that one day.  After all, I held out much longer than they did – right up until I turned 17.

Be Still, My Teenage Heart

21 Jan

Twilight is one of the stupidest franchises in the history of ever.  I hate everything about it.  Everything.  I tried to get into it, I really did.  Love the whole Vampire thing.  “True Blood” is one of my favorite shows, I rarely miss an episode.  The first “Underworld” movie is one of those that I could sit through over and over again.  So when I heard about “Twilight” I thought I’d give it a shot.  Yes, I knew it had been written for teenagers, but I had read and loved the entire “Harry Potter” series and loved every single word.

Here’s the problem with Twilight: it’s written from the point of view of a whiny teenager who just mopes around.  Nothing happens in the first part of the book.  Nothing.  A friend of mine had read it and loved it and I kept asking her, “when does it start getting good.”  She should have said, “never” because that would have been the right answer.  As soon as I got to the part where his skin is glittering in sunlight when they’re in a meadow, I shut the book and though, “Fuck this, I’m out.”

Fuck you, Stephenie Meyer, you write drivel.  Also, your name is spelled wrong.

My inner teenager died a little with that whole Twilight thing.  It cried, and then committed suicide for having been exposed to it.  The last thing I ever expected was to give another shot to stuff intended for a much young audience.  Yeah, yeah, I know I have an unnatural fascination with Big Time Rush (I blame my nephew).  And it’s not like I’m buying concert tickets and putting posters of Logan Henderson on my wall.

You can imagine my delight when a friend of mine recommended The Hunger Games, and I took her advice.  Obsessed.  Totally obsessed.  Yes, it’s totally like a teenage version of The Running Man, but who the hell cares.  Peeta Mellark is in it and I heart him.  You can bet your sweet ass I’m going to buy myself a mockingjay pin and I’ll see the movies when they hit the theaters.

You can also bet your ass that I’m totally team Peeta and I think Josh Hutcherson is a tiny dreamboat.

Yours, Mrs. Peeta Mellark.


This is What I Look Like on Saturday Night

21 Jan

Depeche Mode, Jersey Belle, Oingo Boingo, and South Philly Fashionista can totally attest to the fact that this is what I looked like after inhaling far too much tequila that time we went to Mexico together.  This baby nailed the performance, she deserves a baby Academy Award on your toy shelf.

I wept when I saw this.  Actually wept.  I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard since my sister told me a little story about a conversation between 5 year old Lucy(fer) and 7 year old Damien.  The whole fam was in the car and the song “Pumped up Kicks” was playing on the radio.  A song which I introduced the kids to, even though it’s about a shooting. It’s got a catchy tune and I figured they wouldn’t know what it was about.

  • Lucy(fer): Why do the kids in the pumped up kids gotta run gotta run?
  • Damien: [straight faced] To outrun my gun, faster than my bullet.

For some reason, imaging them in strapped into their car seats having this conversation made me laugh.  I have problems.  I know.

Another Riveting Friday Night

20 Jan

I live less than 20 miles outside of Philadelphia, I have a job that pays good money, I have delightful friends, and a car that works.  I live two hours from NYC and Baltimore.  I live within walking distance of some great restaurants, and even a little movie theater.Know what I’m doing tonight?  I’m sitting on my ass watching shows about prisons.  Yeah, that’s right.  How about that for an amazing Friday night?

Pretty sure I’ll have my pajamas on by 7:00 tonight, just in time to start an NCIS marathon.  Wicked cool.  I know.

Know what I’m having for dinner tonight?  Leftovers.  Yeah, that’s right.  Leftovers.

Maybe later, if I really feel like it, I might take a look at Pinterst or Perez Hilton.  Pretty cool.  I know.  I might even decide to do a load of laundry – don’t want to get too crazy though.

I’ll probably also head upstairs to sob about how pathetic my Friday is.  And then I’ll eat my feelings.  Should probably go out and get some ice cream first.