Some one deleted my work browsing history if I die this weekend

I leave for the beautiful city of Toronto first thing in the morning! It’s okay to be jealous that I get a 4 day weekend and I am going to my favorite city in Canada. Hopefully Mchottie doesn’t go all Ted Bundy on me and I come back alive, because you would all be so sad if I wasn’t here to right a post everyday and that would mean I got sugared for nothing. I will be having to much fun to write long blog posts but you guys can check up on me on my Facebook page, I really need to get on this twitter band wagon. There are far to many forms of social media for me to keep up with.

I have picked up pepper spray so that is my whole safety plan, along with map quest so I can navigate my way to Jade and Abby’s should things go completely array. Not only is this like the scariest date ever because it’s a whole weekend, I have a serious dilemma… poop. If you have ever been in the start of a relationship you know that you can’t just be comfortable enough to say you are going to the bathroom and come out 5 minutes later. No, you need plans to avoid pooping at his house. Girls don’t poop. They just don’t. I usually have exit strategies (hahaha) but I can’t come up with any.  I can’t say I am running to the store because well…I don’t have a car there and I don’t know how to get to the fucking store, I can’t say I have to run some thing to some ones house because I don’t have any thing to run any where, and I only know two people there and I can’t drive the 15 minutes every time I have to go, so my whole plan of attack is I can only poop twice the whole trip. Once Saturday while he is playing lacrosse and once Sunday when he is playing hockey. I may be able to sneak in one while getting ready or late at night when he is asleep. It’s a damn good thing I don’t do anal because that could just end up terrible, if you know what I mean. That was probably way to much information for anyone except Jenna, I apologize. I am currently googling ways to poop without your boyfriend knowing. I am not getting very far.

Besides the pooping dilemma there will be the dilemma that he is really wanting me to move there…trust me….it’s been thrown on the table with the promise that we will talk about it this weekend. I am not good at serious relationships talks. So that will be interesting when we start to discuss it and my solution is to just buy a jet pack so I can fly back and forth. I’m guessing if there is going to be a time when he goes Ted Bundy on me that will be it.

But I will be sure to take many, many pictures and give you all the details when I come back! Keep in mind that I get back on Tuesday so that means it will be my new favorite day of the week Terrible Date Tuesday! YAY! Get your fucking posts in because the first few where hilarious and I want more. 

My on-line dating profile

So I promised a reader that I would put my on-line dating profile on here before I closed my account. So please click here to be sent to my on-line dating profile. 

I realize this isn't my pof account because I closed it down or deactivated it or what ever you do so that you stop getting a million updates on your e-mail every day.

If you aren't from Alberta you may not find the humor in my profile but if you ever meet a rig pig or come and drink in the classy town of Red Deer you will understand where I am going with my profile.

HEY YA'LL! IT'S A DIVORCE PAAAARRTTY!

I was just invited to the best party ever. A divorce party! Doesn’t that sound like a blast? I’ve been to some great parties in my day; I’ve thrown some even better ones, toga parties, lingerie parties, shot parties, parties of basically every kind! I really like to party, that is not a character flaw, that is being awesome, you should try it some time. But regardless, you know you’ve reached a new stage in your life when you are now being inviting to divorce parties! I think I can put away my toga and trade it in for a nice pencil skirt and blouse and get ready to fully rock the divorce party! Not that I can go because I will be in Toronto but if I could I would so be there. I debated for a minute pushing my flight back so I could go to the divorce party just to see what it’s all about! Sadly I think my vagina will divorce me if it doesn't get loved soon so off to Toronto I go.

But why not celebrate marrying the wrong guy and having it fail? RIGHT?! I mean what better way to hide your pain and devastation than a divorce party. You celebrated your love for this man with a wedding, which is basically a really pretty, really expensive party; why not throw a divorce party to celebrate loving yourself enough to get out of a bad marriage?

Some may have the opinion that this glorifies divorce and it’s devalues the vow of marriage, for better or worse but if it’s worse, you can have a kick ass party and say 

"see you later ass muncher, I’m taking the house!" 

That is not my opinion but I could see it being a popular one and if it is your opinion keep it to yourself because this is my mother fucking blog and I do what I want and I think you are wrong.

*My opinion is that marriage went to hell a long time ago. It did, basically the same time we gave women rights marriage was doomed. I could go on a rant as to why that is but I already kind of did a while ago in a post here and I’ll save that for my first interview on Ellen because it’s a topic I am actually really passionate about. Yes, I realize there are for more important things to be passionate about like staving children in Africa and bullying.

Marriage has fallen apart though, people treat their significant other with little respect and we’ve become lazy in love. So is it better to stay in a loveless marriage where you are unhappy? No, my friends, it is not. I do not come from a divorced home, my parents are still happily hating each other so I don’t know the effects of divorce on kids first hand and I've seen some kids really be effected by it and some not at all. I could google but that doesn’t support my case so I will pleasantly ignore that as well. I know the effects of staying in a loveless relationship though and I am a better person out of that relationship than I was in it. I can’t imagine staying in a marriage where a man or women made you feel degraded, belittled, unloved, etc, etc, etc.  So what is wrong with saying to yourself I want more out of this life, I want to live while I am alive, it was nice knowing you but I think you’re a douche now so you take the house and I’ll take savings account and we can call it even.  I am all for trying to make it work and I think you should put the effort in but some times you just can’t fix it, so why make it longer and more painful than it has to be? And then you go out and you throw a party to celebrate loving you again and you invite me because I need more single friends, people in love make me want to hurl, single people who are happy with themselves and don’t whine about not being love those are my kind of people. Let’s get drunk and make fun of our ex’s and the douche bags that ended up in our beds after them!

* I am not even just making a random statement. I googled and did some research to back up a statement that seems so obscure and unbelievable and slightly sexist. If you don’t believe me go look at this chart here, women could legally vote in Alberta in 1916, so 3 years later the divorce rate started to go up. Coincidence? I think not. 

Terrible Date Tuesday

We are going to start some thing new here at Diary of the lost and perplexed! I was really missing my 60 day It’s Called a Breakup Because It’s Broken challenge and thought I needed some thing new and exciting for you guy! We are calling it Terrible Date Tuesday! Sounds fun right! Every Tuesday I am going to write about a terrible date I’ve been on just for your reading enjoyment! Now…I haven’t been on that many terrible dates, a few, enough to get a start on this, but I am going to need your help! So ladies and gentlemen I want to hear about all your terrible dates. It doesn’t have to be a first date, maybe your boyfriend took you on a bad date and you think the world should know about it, although first dates hold a special place in my heart. You can e-mail them to me here diaryofthelost@gmail.com or you can take a stroll over to my facebook page HERE! Please put the subject line JUSTINE THIS IS MY TERRIBLE DATE! I will read them while drinking wine and laugh at your misfortune, just as you laugh at mine, asshole.  So please share and let’s make Terrible Date Tuesday the best thing on the internet and help me get on Ellen. Because I really just do this blog in hopes of becoming famous and getting to go on Ellen one day! On that note…Ladies and gentlemen…the first entry of Terrible Date Tuesday! Welcome to the date I call The Drug Dealer.

The drug dealer

There has never been a date worse than this one. Never and I’ve had some bad ones. He informed me that he couldn’t meet me at the restaurant because his car wouldn’t start but if I could please pick him up that would be great. So I did, shit happens right? Ya, when I got to his house there wasn’t a car there? Maybe your problem was that you didn’t have a car to start, I’m not rocket scientist but generally one needs a car to start a car. I should have drove away then but I didn’t. Oh Justine…life choices.

So we go to a restaurant that he worked at…that he told me he owned, but he didn’t. He worked in the kitchen he didn’t own it. This man must be very confused because again I am not a rocket scientist, but just because you are an employee does not make you an owner.

We ordered a drink, as in one for each of us, no more, no less  and the only words out of his mouth was I like your necklace it’s really pretty. Convenient, my necklace hung right in between my tits. I mean I strategically planned that but still. Twenty minutes later he asked if I could drive him home because he needed to run to his friend’s house quick but then we could come back. So being young and dumb and thinking he was hot I agree. We go into his house and he pulls out a duffle bag. A FUCKING DUFFLE BAG! Any guess what was in this bag? A lot of mary jane. A lot of it. Like you know in movies how some one has a duffle bag full of drugs and one has the brief case full of money, picture that…just not brief case or money. Did that make me leave? No my friends it didn’t…because I was a stupid fucking twenty year old.

He starts to tell me about his promising music career and if I would like to hear his CD. If a man with a duffle bag full of weed asks if you want to hear his CD the answer is always, I mean always yes. He puts it in and out comes the best rap about a ham and cheese sandwich I think I have ever heard. Have you ever loved a sandwich so much you were compelled to write a song about it? No? Me either, but I want to meet the man who made a sandwich that good and give him a high five! The next song, even better, pink lemonade, we are sippin’ on some sweet pink lemonade. Ah…good times. He must of wrote those after hanging around with his duffle bag.

 I asked for a copy and I got one. Life 0 Justine 1! I have a little token to remember this date always. Some people get taken to carnivals and the boy wins them a teddy bear, I get a duffle bag full of weed and a rap CD, thus is life.  

At this point he got up to go to the bathroom. I did what any completely insane 20 year old would do, I grabbed a zip lock bag from the table and put some of that weed in a bag and shoved it in my pocket. Ya, you read that right. I stole from a drug dealer. Not recommended but this point I needed some thing to do damage control on how bad this date had been. It was at this time that I hear *SNOOORRTTTTTTTTT* in the bathroom…ok maybe you just have a booger you have to suck up…but then it happens again…and again…and again. Ya that’s not a booger my friends…that’s a man riding the rails to happy land. Furthermore who snorts that loudly! Fucking weird man. Now I may not be above stealing some bud from a drug dealer, but I am definitely above that. I am getting the hell out of dodge. So I say “uuh my friend just texted me I have t go, sorry it was nice to meet you!” He comes out of the bathroom and asks if I can drive him to drop off some weed at his friend’s house. Seriously dude? We just met tonight…no. I am taking my free weed and getting the hell out of dodge. End of date. Sadly I never heard from that gem of a man again. But I did smoke that weed while listening to his CD. Best thing ever. Ah…where is that CD!?

Death by midget

Dear readers,

I have a midget running around my lady parts with a chainsaw slicing my insides and laughing. Why god why god it’s been years since I had to go through this. I put a blocker in my uterus specifically so I don’t have to go through this. Some one bring me some drugs. I’m not above being stoned at work.

But I did promise a friend that I would put my online dating profile up before I deleted my account...so I will have that up as soon as I am resurrected

Yes...I did actually spend the last hour making those wonderful pieces of art. You are welcome!

One more just for fun? Oh okay!

He's just an asshole and she's just a whore

I don’t claim to be a saint when it comes to dating, I’ve made my fair list of mistakes and will continue to make mistakes. I have broken hearts and had mine broken. I claimed that I would never date again and lusted after a guy after one night together; relationships have the ability to make us invincible and break us down all in one breath.

We’ve heard our girlfriends say to us, fuck men they are all assholes, when we are sitting there drowning our pain in ice cream, wine and bad chick flicks because after three dates with a guy he suddenly isn’t interested. We’ve heard guys say, what ever women are all just crazy whores, as they drown their pain over beers then shots then in the bed of another women.

It’s true, both sexes at some point in time have made a generalized claim about the other and sworn them off with the testimonial that they are all crazy, assholes, dirt bags, bitches, whores… the list could go on but you get my point. I have seen both, women treating men like doormats and men treating women like gum on their shoes; hell I even treated a guy like he was a doormat. I’ve watched as my friends have cried tears of frustration and heart break and that applies to men and women. Generally it is more so women, maybe because women are more open with their feelings, maybe we just have more feelings to hurt or we invest more of ourselves earlier on? Maybe women are just programmed to love unconditionally, like we’ve never been hurt, maybe we have the gift to forget the bad and only remember the good.

As  a single female I have  had more of a chance to see how men act in and out of a relationship, how they continually cross lines and hurt feelings and at times I’ll admit I even enabled it. I’ve known that a guy has been dating some one else and let him kiss me, tell me I am beautiful and he didn’t even like the other girl, I’ve known that he has a wife and let him ‘accidently” grab my ass or send an inappropriate text message. So not only have I participated in this acts knowing fully that my actions could potentially hurt some one else, I’ve cried the victim when similar events where inflicted upon me. I mean, haven’t we all at some point in time? Maybe some times unintentionally, but generally we know what our actions will produce even if we want to suppress the feelings of guilt for the momentary pleasure and attention we receive.

How ironic when you are the victim you wonder how any one could ever be so cruel, how they could hurt you so much, how could they knowingly hurt you, but when you are enabling the behavior it is harmless, it didn’t mean any thing and it wasn’t a big deal and you don’t understand how some one could get so upset over something so stupid as a seemingly harmless text message between friends, a flirty conversation, lunch date or a harmless kiss. As a generation we have the ability to justify are actions when it comes to pretty much any thing or maybe it's just the people I know.  But we know when our actions will have negative repercussions and hurt some one, we just don’t take the time to care about how they would feel, we put ourselves first. And is that wrong? To put ourselves first? To step over some ones feelings for the gain of our own? I guess it’s a matter of perception, making your actions justifiable. Shouldn’t women stick up for one another, isn’t that what Spice Girls taught us?  Is there some kind of scale that makes our actions of enabling okay? If this action makes me happy for an allotted period of time and only hurts this person for an allotted period of time is it justifiable? Is there an invisible line that makes it okay if your actions only inflict a small amount of pain on some one compared to the pain of breaking their heart? Or do we just act and not think of the consequences until later. What if this person has hurt you; does the saying two wrongs don’t make a right still stand true or do you get some kind of validation by hurting them? What if the validation that you sought after only hurts you more. What if you feel a sense of empowerment because of it? Is there ever a time that we can justify hurting some one else for our own personal happiness? Shouldn’t you put yourself first…If you don’t who else will? I guess that’s just part of dating; a part of life. I’m sure any successful person had to step on some toes to advance just as I am sure they were probably stepped on for other people to advance. So in the game of dating are there rules or is it true that all is fair and love and war? Rules make it sound like a game but dating is a game. But can there every really be a winner when it comes to dating? Dating is cruel and twisted game if you ask me. One that you have to play more calculated than chest and when you play it right you never even really win, you just advance to the game of love, which is far more twisted because you are dealing with far more complex feelings and the ability to hurt and get hurt are just amplified. So does any one ever really win when it comes to a game of hearts or are we all just losers eventually?

But we’ve all been there, felt victimized (not just by Regina George haha) and we’ve all been the offender. I will make the general statement that as a single women I’m finding that it is men acting in the wrong, women by far do the enabling, but it seems to me that men make that first step to cross lines. So is it wrong for women to take the stance of a man; to treat men how they’ve treated us? Does that put me into the category of a whore or a bitch? Probably, but it wouldn’t be the first time I get called a whore and it wont be the last. Women seem to get labeled endlessly for our actions where men would just be categorized as a man just being a man, but what if I just stopped caring? What if I just said fuck you all I really don’t care what you think.  Because I’ve reached that point. Maybe I’ve just seen to much, cried to many tears, listened as my friends cried, put effort into dating a man who will try to be different, only to end up the same.

The game of dating is complicated and I am not willing to get hurt any more at this point, I am not willing to listen to the bullshit lines that you spew at me in hopes that it will help you in your quest to get me into your bed, I am not willing to listen to the words you say in the morning, your apologies, your empty promises. Words hold little to no value because time and time again the only thing that remains constant in dating is empty words and heart break. So what if I stop caring how it will effect you and start caring more about how it will effect me? What if I spent less time thinking about you and more time thinking about me and not worry if I hurt you, because I bet I am not even a thought in your head, even when I can’t get you out of mine. 

He Loves Me...He Loves Me Not...No He Loves Me. Great

I’ve been sick so for the last couple days all I’ve wanted to do is sleep. But I had an eventful weekend none the less. So I guess I better start spilling the dirty details.

Mchottie told me he loved me. Ya, so that’s nice. Drunk on Friday night he called me and I could tell he was plastered. That’s cute that he drunk dials me when I am a million miles away. But our conversation went like this:

MM- you’re crazy

Me – don’t call me crazy, I hate when you call me crazy

MM – ya but you are crazy… I love your crazy…I love you

Me- you’re drunk. Call me tomorrow when you sober up

MM – I do love you Justine. I think about you all the time and how perfect you are

Me – call me tomorrow Mchottie, you’re drunk, go get a cab and go home

MM – ok baby.

Great. So much for a feeling free weekend of fun. The words I love you change everything. The words I love you when the feelings are not reciprocated, even worse.

I feel like once those words are said every thing changes, it leaves you with the ability to get hurt or hurt some one else. I thought we were on the same page? That he was a lot older, we don’t have a lot in common and he hates my dog, but the sex is good and a weekend in Toronto should be fun. I mean, a relationship at this point just probably wouldn’t work, even if I was in Toronto, he said he hates my dog! I can't be with some one who hates my dog! I mean it might, but who knows, I am not there and he is. He has made it clear that he has zero intentions of moving out here and it would have to be me who moves and I don’t know how I feel about that. Maybe he just loves me because women his age aren’t able to have kids and I have birthing hips. Seriously, I was made to have children. He probably looks at me and goes, great, she can still have kids, sign me up for that one. That must be it.

Augh. To much pressure.

Most girls would be over the moon that they have a guy who is willing to fly them back and forth from Toronto, says I love you and worships the ground she walks on and has for years, and has a body that makes a person want to lick chocolate sauce of his abs. This absolutely terrifies me, except for the chocolate sauce part, that doesn't sound terrifying it sounds delicious. The rest though, it means commitment, commitment I am not ready for. Commitment to a guy who is a thousand millions away. No thank you. Pass. Check please. No speaky any English.

So I am going to do what any normal person would do, still go on my trip (I don’t want to be wasteful), see how the weekend goes and maybe let him down easy. I am a horrible person. But he changed the rules. He went from easy going and fun to serious in 2.2 seconds.  Maybe the signs were there and I just didn’t see them because I was to busy deciphering signals from other men. Oh boy…that sounded horrible didn’t it? What ever, don’t judge me. maybe I will fall madly in love with him when I am there...doubtful but maybe. I guess we'll see. 

Casual dating dilemma

So I’ve officially given up on on-line dating, after 4 penis pictures, one extremely creepy guy that I am going to keep private, one awkward first date and countless messages from men that I have zero interest in…I’ve sworn it off.  I’m sorry folks; I know you were all looking forward to hearing about my on-line dating adventures. But to be honest I have know problem getting dates in real life and the men on that site are sub-par.

But when it comes to dating how much is too much?

Since Kermit, I have been on 5 dates. That may not seem like a lot to you but keep in mind that I cried for the first month of our break up so I’ve only been dating for about a month. Or maybe you see where I am coming from and it seems like a lot. I think it’s a lot. Basically one a week and there was potential for more that I backed out of with excuses like ice fishing trip, terminal illness, and one unexpected holiday to Mexico. It’s exhausting and looking back I need to come up with better excuses.

But that’s what dating is about isn’t it? Dating different guys, seeing what’s out there, try to figure out what type is good for you?

Currently I guess I am casually dating two guys, at the same time. Mathew Mchottie and Awkward first date guy who I gave a second chance after he corrected my grammar in a text message. What can I say; I am a sucker for condescending assholes. Now this is easy because Mathew Mchottie is in Toronto and awkward guy is here. I couldn’t imagine the juggling skills required to pull of two guys in the same city.

Neither guy is exclusive, although they’ve both expressed that that is where they would like to see it end up. So should I feel guilty for dating two guys at the same time? Does it make it okay because one is in Toronto? Because if any thing I just feel worse that he flying me out to see him and I am casually dating another guy. Although that I would like to point out that me and Mr. Awkward have not so much as kissed or held hands, we had our awkward hug but that was it.

So in my personal dilemma I went to Jenna and posed my question to her…how many is too many. She said 5 at the same time. That sounds exhausting but that’s a lot of free dinners. So that’s an upside…although that may make my belt size go up.

The flip side to that is one at a time. I feel like that’s putting all my eggs in one basket. But is exclusively casually dating the way to go or am I okay with taking casual dating for what it is…casual. 

Life lessons from the lady who sugars me ... your Valentines day present.

Well, today is the day of love. I am not in love, unless you count my love for my bed…and Bob... because I love my bed and I love Bob even more. Some people get bitter that they are single on Valentines day, I am happy to be single on this glorious day. Mostly because last year I was set up for disappointment when Kermit turned Valentines day into a week long guessing game. He gave me hints and I was suppose to guess what he got me. I got a Youtube link…ya. Imagine my disappointment. I was running all over town asking my friends for help with the hints, we were guessing diamonds, flowers, engagement rings, one girl even guessed a car. I got a fucking Youtube link. Any ways, that’s not my point today, because I do have one. But don’t you feel an overwhelming urge to send me flowers tomorrow to make up for last year? Ya? I have the best readers

I think that Valentines day was created by men so that they were guaranteed sex at least once a year from their wives, you know they probably struck out on their anniversary, probably forgot about their wives birthday and probably got to drunk on theirs. But Valentines day…aaahhh you have radio announcements, T.V commercials, Facebook status reminders…you can’t fuck this up…unless you are Kermit. He fucked it up.  Sure you may have to buy her flowers and dinner, but if you are a married man that is a small price to pay if you haven’t had your wiener touched by any thing other than your hand in ten months.

As women, in relationships, we understand that for the gifts, we generally have to put out. The excuse, I have a head ache, I am to tired, I don’t want to wake the kids, didn’t we just have sex 10 months ago and so on and so forth doesn’t work on this day. And as such, it is our womanly job to make sure that the jungle is tamed. Which involves either waxing, shaving or my personal favorite sugaring. And if you are a women who doesn’t at least trim the bushes go back to the 80’s, that’s the only time it was acceptable.

Ah the joys of being a women, hair removal is right up there with child birth, but guys that is why you pay for our dinner and diamonds, we have kids and wax are bins. Not seemingly fair if you ask me, but thus is life.

Now generally I am a shaver, why? Because you nosey assholes, I am not getting laid enough lately that it matters if I am always taken care of in that department. There was a point in time that  I was. So that meant every couple of months I had to make my way down to the little Asian girls and get sugared. For those of you who don’t know sugaring is kind of like waxing, except it doesn’t hurt as much, Asians do it instead of a lady named Elga and it’s more natural products. This is the only time you will here my say that the more natural (almost organic) way is better. You know my stance on organic shit near my lady parts and if you don’t go back and read about it here. I just did you ladies who still wax a favor, switch to sugaring.  Anyways, so this is story is about the first time I went to see my little Asian.

I had lived in Edmonton for a couple months and Kermit and I were going to Mexico, the last thing you want to do on vacation is shave your bin, that cuts into your drinking time, so I went and saw her. She brings me back into this little room passed all the ladies getting their nails done and I strip down, once I am in the room, just to be clear. Now I have junk in my truck especially if you compare me to this little Asian girl, but I really don’t care because I don’t have any deformities down there and well…it’s her job, she signed up for this, she wasn’t forced to remove hair from bins all day. So I am sitting on the table and they play that relaxing music, you know, because ripping hair around your asshole and sensitive lady parts is relaxing so they need the music to add to the calming mood, so I am listening to the soft babbling brooks and this lady strikes up a casual conversation. Do you know how hard it is to carry on a casual conversation with some one while your legs are spread on a table and she is molding the hot wax like products in her hands and you know the pain that is about to be inflicted on you? Not exactly my idea of a great time to discuss my life. Little Asian lady apparently thinks this is a great time though, so I play along. The conversation starts with where I work and how my day was and then she asks me if that was my boyfriend who came in with me, I tell her in fact it was. Well, in broken English she says

“you do dis for your boyfriend”

I inform her no, I do this because I just am to damn lazy to shave my bin on holidays and I’d rather be drinking than spend an extra ten minutes in the shower making sure my bikini line is ok. Ladies, she then gave me the best relationship advice I’ve ever received.

“your boyfriend love you more if you do this”

Well, here I was thinking that my boyfriend may want to love me for my charming personality and big tits…Turns out though, he doesn’t love me enough right now because I don’t wax my bin every month. My bad little Asian lady, thank you for rubbing in the fact that he had yet to put a ring on it.

Now, at this point in my relationship I was comfortable…ladies you know that means I had gained my relationship weight,  we all do it, I was squishier than normal. Oh well so was Kermit. She pressed down on my stomach and got ready to pull off more hair, and at this point I was in so much shock that she had just said my boyfriend didn’t love me because I hadn’t been sugared in a while, that  I didn’t notice that we were half way done, but she puts her hand on my stomach and pulls off some more hair. Then she adds injury to insult! She stops what she is doing and looks at me with a puzzled look on her face, all that you can hear is the babbling water playing on the CD…

“you get flatter stomach, your boyfriend will like that too”

Ahhh…the key to love ladies…a flat stomach and a hairless vagina.  There you have it. That’s it, it doesn’t matter if you are smart, funny, clever, what actually matters is a hairless vagina and a flat stomach.

She goes back to what she is doing, with no talking and I just sit there with my legs in different yoga type positions while she rips away at my hair and dignity. She tells me to roll on my side and pull up my cheek…we all know what cheek we I am talking about. I tell her it’s fine and not to worry about it. I don’t know some thing about having my asshole up in the air weird’s me out, I mean usually when guys ask that they’ve bought me dinner or a drink first. This was apparently not an option,

“I do you favor…your boyfriend like”

My boyfriend is going no where near my asshole lady and if he happens to receive a miracle we will both be way to drunk to notice if there is a hair there. So I’ll pass. Thanks though. She insisted and told me to  roll over again. She lifted my cheek and started going to town with that wax. I am pretty sure I felt violated. I am pretty sure I went further with my waxing lady than I have with any guy and I didn’t even know what was happening. My boyfriend hadn’t even got that far…maybe that is another reason why he didn’t love me. She didn’t point it out so I don’t know for sure.

After that I got dressed and walked out there, a little flustered, a little confused and a lot less hair. I paid and left her a tip, because she had just given me a life time full of tips and got up close and personal with my asshole.

My point is this year ladies, I don’t have to do this. Me and my hairy bin are going to sit at home tomorrow and watch movies where the girl doesn’t end up with the man of her dreams (is there any movies out there like that, I am open to suggestions), and I will dance to single ladies and be happy this year I don’t have to shave, wax, or sugar any part of my body to please a man, because Bob doesn’t care if I haven’t shaved in the last two weeks. So you all have fun at your over priced, over packed, resteraunts, and count the ceiling tiles while you have sex with your husband in the missionary position and try to figure out how many calories you are burning and think of me at home, eating ice cream, watching youporn. 

The most awkward first date that left me with a man who told me he was infatuated by me

Friday night, I got dressed up and went for a drink with my sister. Well when I got home around 9 o’clock I felt like I couldn’t waste a good hair day and a good outfit on one drink (that would be selfish, obviously), so there was a guy that I had been talking to from the hell that we call internet dating. I texted him and said, if he wanted to we could meet up for a drink, but I don’t know how long I can stay because I had to be up early. I figure that way if it was horrible I’d have a reason to have to bail. So we met up on his side of town and some how I got there first? Weird, because I just drove across town and he lived 5 minutes away. I grab a seat by the door and text every one I know to tell them that if it’s horrible I will text them “chicken” and they have to call me.  And thus begun the most awkward first date that left me with a man who told me he was infatuated by me.

OK ready, set, go…he walks in…and nothing. No butterflies, sparks, excitement. I’ve felt butterflies since Kermit, mostly with Skipper but I know that I can feel them with some one else other than Kermit. But I felt nothing on my end. Oh well, he doesn’t look horrible, he was kind of cute, I decide to stay (maybe it would get better right?) and chat with him; except by stay and chat with him I mean I try to make awkward conversation and he just shyly answers and I basically have a conversation with a wall. 20 minutes and half a beer later, he informs me that he had to take his brothers truck (yes, I passed judgment on the face that he had to take his 20 year old brothers truck) back to him so his brother could go to work but he could walk back if I didn’t mind waiting there. WHERE DO I FIND THESE MEN! Oh ya...in the scum of internet dating land. Yes, I do mind actually, I think most people would mind. That's like saying, you just sit here and have a better conversation with a door, but don't you worry, I'll be back in twenty minutes; so yes, I think that’s fucking weird and I'll just go home thanks. So we stay and chat for 20 more minutes, again mostly me trying to carry on some kind of conversation, then wrap it up. He pays the bill, about one of the only things he did right on this date. Then we walk out.

Now I am not a dating expert by any means but I’ve have been on some amazing first dates and some horrible first dates. I will make a chart for you guys some day. But, my point is…this date was average. On every level it was completely average. There was just a lot of mistakes on his end (not on mine, I am the perfect first date) that left me driving home thinking that this would have had to be his first, first date.

First he was shy, which is fine, some people are shy, but at least know how to carry on a conversation. I’ll give you a hint, conversations flow, they should be easy when there is a connection, some one says some thing, usually in question form, you answer the question in more then one or two words, then maybe ask me a question, you know, build on the conversation,  get to know each other,  we’ve been texting for a week, you know a little about me, ask me some thing.

Also another important part of a conversation is to look at some one when they talk to you. Do not go all crazy eyes on me, don’t stare at me like a crazy stalker, but if you could look in my direction that would be appreciated.

Don’t pull out your phone on a date. Never. You go to the bathroom but pulling out your phone to text is weird and just adds to the awkwardness of you not knowing how to carry on a conversation. The only time you pull out your phone is when you are trying to bail on your date. That’s a fact. And even then you go to the bathroom and come back with your phone in your hand, set it on the table and wait for your friend to call you to tell you she is going into labor.

Then it comes time for the awkward good bye. Unless you are 100 percent sure it was an amazing first date you don’t ask for a hug. (hint, if you have to ask for a hug it wasn’t a good date). Regardless, I am not a hugger, unless I love you, then I will hug the shit out of you; but until then, we don’t hug. He stops when we go to part ways to our car, I had turned to walk away, I said goodnight, then the awkward can I have a hug statement comes. Augh. We are not on hugging levels and because of this I say I’m not a hugger but sure. Auughhh why are you touching me; no touchy. No, not even a high five at this point. And I love high fives.

I drive home. I get a text message, “it’s not fair how beautiful you are, I want to see you again soon.” Were we on the same date? Because that was not amazing. It was weird. You were shy and I filled in the  gaps with nervous conversation. Seriously, when the best part of the date was when you went to pay and I watch a very drunk girl dancing around in a helmet it probably means there wasn’t a connection, at least from my end.  And here is a hint, don’t get all brave with text messages after the date is over. So begun the string of you’re amazing text messages. I don’t even know why? I wasn’t charming, my outfit was good, and my hair was good and I was rocking a Kim K smokey eye, but it was just about the most awkward 40 minutes in my dating life. Just about…I’ve had one date worse than that.

Also, do not, I repeat, do not send a text message that says, "so if you aren't are a hugger, does that mean you aren't a cuddler?" Cuddle with you? Hold your horses pony boy. We are not talking about cuddling yet, cuddling happens once you've shagged and unless you count that picture of me you keep next to your bed and tube of vaseline intercourse is not happening between us. 

Another hint, do not ask some one out on a second date through text message. This may be my new biggest pet peeve. The first date, sure, I can understand that if it came through the hell that we call internet dating, but after we meet, pick up the phone and call me, come up with a plan, be a man about this, take control. Girls like it. None of this pansy ass dancing around, well what would you like to do shit. Come up with an idea, call me, ask me, we go. Simple. Take charge. It is the single most important thing if you want a second date. When I ask you on a date, I'll come up with a plan, but I don't have to do that until the fourth date. Until then, it's all you baby. 

And lastly, don’t say things like I know you like me too. Uhh, well I don’t. I am sorry, you were average on every single aspect of that date. But I like your confidence. Use that confidence to pick up the phone and ask me on a date, not a text message.

So that was my first internet date after Kermit…and by all means, left me feeling hopeless about the potential dating pool in Shitville. I mean, we know that I am the classiest lady to walk this earth, so if you could try to be a gentleman, at least a modern day gentleman, that would be great.

Oh well, Saturday night proved to be more interesting when I went out with guys from work and one of them kissed me. We are just going to pleasantly ignore it because he leaves to go work up north for the next month, and may have a girlfriend who lives in B.C. What is it with guys who have girlfriends? Why is it that guys I think I am friends with like me but the ones that I like hate me. Well…cheers to being single and not having to care I guess. 

Day 60...not the end but the start of a new beginning

I’ve been the girl who not only suffers through an unhealthy and demoralizing relationship but then goes back to it in hopes that the time spend apart has inspired him to love me enough to change…or even try. And guess what? It didn’t.

I didn’t go back. I left and with the help of It’s Called A Break Up Because It’s Broken, Amy Poehler, Jenna and the rest of my friends, maybe a little wine time to time, and these blog posts, I didn’t go back. I was close, but I didn’t. And I came out the other side of this break up challenge

I was the girl so in love with a person incapable of giving me what I needed out of a relationship that not only did I marry him but I gladly gave away every last shred of my self-esteem to keep him.

I did, I gave up every thing to be with a man who was pushing me away, who no longer wanted me, but didn’t have the balls to let me go. I held on so tight, gave up my  dignity, respect and pride, I gave up myself so that I could be with him. That is not the person I am, but that’s who I was and I don’t ever want to go back to that place.

Wasting time in a relationship that blows is just that-wasted time. Time that could be spent looking for a the person who’s destined to be your perfect match.

It was a waste of time, I realize that now after these 60 days, I wish that he would have just left or let me leave, that he wouldn’t have told me that I didn’t have to go when he wanted me to go. I wish that when he checked out he wouldn’t have left me in the lobby holding all of our bags wondering why he wasn’t helping me carry them and why he was pulling away while I was left standing there, alone. 

But I don’t want to spend my time looking for another person, I want to spend time working on me and if a guy comes along who can handle me, who can understand me than that’s fine with me.

If you’ve reached this point where one or both of you feel that walking away is the best course of action, the cracks were there. YOU ARE NOT THE KIND OF WOMEN WHO SETTLES FOR BROKEN OR HANGS ONTO DAMAGE GOODS

I can’t tell you the amount of times I repeated that over and over in my head. I was that person but I refuse to be that person any more. This was my favorite line in the whole book. You are worth more than broken or damaged. You don't deserve that.

Unless there are two people putting on the coveralls and getting down in the trenches with some duct tape and superglue and a fierce determination, it isn’t going to happen.

I don’t believe in perfect matches. I believe in two people with a desire to make their relationship work, that no matter what obstacles come between them, they want to work on it together. Because they are stronger together than they ever would be apart.

At the end of the day, it’s about whether you like yourself enough to face the reality that your romance wasn’t working, to recognize that it wasn’t giving you what you needed and deserved and to pull yourself out of the dumps and seize the opportunity before you. Because as messed up as everything seems right now, this could be the best thing to ever happen to you.

And it has been, in the last sixty days I have discovered a lot about myself and made choices for me more than I ever have before. I have always made choices based on what I thought other people would want, always. There are very few choices I made for myself in my young adult life that I made because I wanted to. That is starting to change, it’s hard, different and terrifying but exciting. I don't know for sure what the future holds for me but I know that for the first time it's my choice.

Life’s biggest reward comes from the biggest challenges

I know that this next year will prove to be more challenging than any before it, because of the fact that I am now making choices for me and allowing myself to put myself first is some thing completely new and different for me.

And finally…

Nothing was easy and sometimes she failed, and sometimes she thought the fairy tale stories where right, that there must indeed be easier ways of living happily ever after; but defeat is a poor ending to any tale, so she kept trying.

There came a point when every thing was broken, my dreams, my relationship, my self respect, my pride, my love. It was broken and there didn’t seem like a way to put it back together. There wasn’t a way to mend all the mistakes I had made, that I was STILL making. There came a point when I was ready to give up, let go of every thing and I only got help because Kermit said I needed it, a choice I made to make him happy, not me. For months I cried, I didn’t want to get out of bed, I didn’t want to see people, I wanted to sit at home. I was broken. But I’ve put myself back together, well, I am starting to put myself back together. And I am doing it for me. And I will make mistakes and I will fail but I will get back up, this time not for a guy, not for my friends, but for me.

So sixty days have come and gone, there have been a lot of challenges, a lot of tears, laughs and smiles and endless hours wondering what will happen next. I don’t know what the future will hold, but I know that it will be filled with mistakes, failure and success. I know that I can make it through any thing and come out on the other side stronger and better. I will have bad dates, failed relationships, and I will have weekends like last weekend where I don’t remember all the things I’ve learned and make mistakes, but they will make me into a better person.

So if you take any thing away from the last sixty days take away that you have a choice, a choice to stay in a relationship that isn’t working or a choice to realize your potential, to realize you deserve more than an unfulfilling, broken life. Not a relationship, because life is made up of relationships, and what I learned from It’s Called A Break Up Because It’s Broken, are things that I will carry with me in all my choices not just relationships.

And in the end know that you will be okay, that you will make it out the other side a better person. That you don’t need a man or a women to be happy, that just because a relationship is comfortable doesn’t mean it’s right. Know that relationships are two complete people choosing to share their lives, not two halves to make a whole. So never settle for any thing less than butterflies, never change who you are, because there will be a person out there who runs with you, who doesn’t try to change you, and loves you for all your mistakes, who stands by you, and shows you the respect you deserve

Day 59...The Fury Of The Coupon Queen

So with my flights booked to go see Mathew Mchottie I had to come up with a way to tell my parents, who I currently reside with, that I am going to Toronto and he paid for it, because they know there is no way in hell my broke ass could afford to go to Toronto. Here is the thing, I may be 23 and you may be saying to yourself why does it matter what my mother thinks, it’s your choice, it’s your life, you can do what you want you are an adult. To you I say WRONG! You have obviously never felt the fury of the Coupon Queen and maybe if you have at one point in time you would understand.

One time, she threw a hamburger at my sister. Chucked it, right across the table. Bun, ketchup and mustard, I think there might even have been lettuce on that burger, and it came at my sisters at mach 5 speed, BAM! Right in my sisters face. I don’t remember what my sister did, but I learned a valuable lesson that day…Never piss off my mother when she has food in her hands.

There was also one time my dad came home pissed drunk, she got mad and then he got mad. I imagine there was an exchange of loving and caring  words and she picked up a glass vase and flowers and hurled it at his head. Jeffrey ducked (good for him, because when he gets drunk he only has use of one eye, so that’s just impressive), he came back with “You missed me bitch” but little did he know (at this point in their relationship at least) that Coupon Queen has a mean upper cut. I mean, she could be a UFC fighter. You may be laughing, but this not a laughing matter. And then, BAM! she knocked that man out cold, came in and punched that mother fucker right out. Guess she didn’t miss after all. So that’s what I am dealing with…maybe now you understand.

Any ways, I knew that there would be a hostile response from the Coupon Queen, maybe not so much Jeffrey because I don’t think he would even notice I was gone, but Coupon Queen was not going to be happy about me letting some guy pay for me to come see him. I have never been the type of daughter to say ah fuck my parents, I am a grown up I can do what I want. Never. Some people think what would Jesus do, I think what will coupon queen do if she finds out. That thought is really in the back of my mind at all times, with every decision I make, I think to myself will Coupon Queen kill me if I do this? I really could be a spontaneous person, I want to be and I am right up until I have to tell Coupon Queen. You should see how much I shit my pants when I told her I was going to Mexico for the first time. You would have thought I was telling her I was going to fulfill my life dream of becoming a stripper with the reaction I got.

Kermit used to get mad because often I would omit the truth from Coupon Queen, even if it was just stupid little things, like having to wait an extra day to pay my insurance because I was to broke to pay it till pay day, I would tell her it was paid. I don’t like lying to her, in fact, I hate it, but I just hate the backlash of her fury even more. I also hate hearing “oh for fuck sakes Justine.” When those words come out, I know I’ve fucked up. I hear those words a lot. I also know that she is constantly disappointed in me, that I am constantly letting her down in some way or another. I really am, I mean, I am 23, back at home, didn’t graduate from college, pissed away all my college years, moved to Edmonton with a guy she did not approve of, only to break up with him, and a string of bad office jobs and have really accomplished nothing in my life (unless you count my tap dancing skills).  I am not exacting the poster child for up standing life choices. I remember very few times my mom has been proud of me and I knew that spilling the beans about Mathew Mchottie would be one of those times where I hear “oh for fuck sakes Justine.”

So this morning as I was leaving for work she informed me that March 1, I needed to go on a over night camping trip with my niece for Brownies. Ya, see here’s the thing, my flight leaves at 12 o’clock that day, my flight that is booked and paid for and is non-refundable…ya that one…so unless I can send a blow up doll of myself to this camping trip with twenty, eight year olds, I don’t see me being there. I panicked. I had not had time to plan out how I was going to tell her. This is scary. I enter Justine panic mode where I just say the first thing that comes to my mind…bad choice.  The conversation went as followed…

CQ- “why? Does that not work for you?”

Me- “uuuuhh *looks around, fuck fuck fuck fuck, why am I not a better on the spot thinker* well I may be in Toronto”

CQ- “how? With pennies from heaven?”

Me- “ uuuhhhhh *fuck fuck fuck fuck come on brain give me something…ok really brain…nothing…FUUUCKKK* Derek is paying for me to go”

CQ- “OH FOR FUCK SAKES JUSTINE are you kidding me?!”

And there it was…disappointment. I didn’t stick around to hear any more. I ran out the door claiming I would be late for work. This will be interesting…to say the least.

But here is the thing, it is my choice to go. I have weighed the pros and cons, I have told myself every thing and gone back and forth, I know I really don’t know this man that well and the last time I saw him was in Mexico, and that was right before I started dating Kermit. So yes, I understand all the risks involved in that. It is like the ultimate blind date. I’ve pounder and put it off for a couple of months.  But here is the thing, I have never ever accepted gifts from guys, I have never dated guys who gave me extravagant gifts, when my girlfriends where going on romantic trips away, I was sitting at home with pizza and watching my boyfriend play video games, last year for Valentines day, I got a link to a youtube video for a song I liked at the time. Don’t laugh that actually happened. So fuck it. I am going, because I am single, I am young, and I was going to try to refrain from saying YOLO but fuck it, YOLO! I am going to go, I am going to have fun and you know what…if it’s a mistake, it’s a mistake I made and Carrie Bradshaw said it best when she said, your 20’s are for your mistakes.  It is a free trip, a trip where I get to see my two best friends, be in a city that I love and come home. So besides the obvious risks of him potentially being a serial killer and going all Ted Bundy on me, I say why not. 

Day 58...What's wrong with on-line dating? Let me tell you.

I am done with on-line dating. Mostly because after the events of this weekend it is apparent that I am not ready to date and my emotional baggage is not being dealt with in a healthy way. Except for Mathew Mchottie, because well, he has my flights booked to Toronto at the end of the month. Continue to judge all you want. But I want to talk to you about on-line dating, not my life choices. I am going to be brutally honest and you can all call me a bitch later but deep down you know I am right.

This may get a little complicated but try to stay with me.

In real life people are on scales. It’s a hot/smart/funny scale, meaning you can be 10 out of 10 on the hot scale, but if you are dumb as fuck, uninteresting and just plain boring and you are a 2 out of 10 on the smart scale, but lets say you are funny, you can tell some mean one liners and are a 5 out of 10 on the funny scale, you are no longer a 10 out of 10 because you are hot. You take the average of the three and that’s what you actually are.

Now when you are dating, you tend to date within a couple points of your average. It’s a fact, you never see a smart, sexy, hot guy with a girl who is ugly and dumb (although money can some times play a role in affecting this scale). People generally have some kind of self awareness as where they sit on this scale and so they tend to hit on, date, flirt, and sleep with people on the same level as them. It makes sense right? You never see a 8 with a 2, it’s usually a 4 with a 6, or a 7 with an 8…you get the picture?

The problem with on-line dating is that this scale is thrown out the window and can create some huge problems.  This scale makes sense and it works and gives some kind of cushion for being rejected. I would never walk up to Clooney and start flirting with him; he is out of my range. I mean, I am pretty funny and I am pretty (okay, when I put make up on) but I am not on his level of sexiness.

In the world of on-line dating, people have this sense of bravery when they hide behind a computer screen. Hey, what harm can it do, I’ll send a quick Hi and see what I get back. Because of this false confidence dating sites make you put up pictures to give you some kind of idea so you know not to reply and you can read the little write up to see if they are complete idiots. Another rule I have is there is 420 in the user name, I delete, I don’t even read because I already know what it will say. But I mean these sites make it so you can get a general idea, you can’t get the full picture but you get an idea, hence the long drawn out process of chatting back and forth, maybe a phone call then the actual date, and the fact that you have to sort through a million men to find one who isn’t a loser.

Also, as a general rule for pictures guys tend to look better, girls tend to look worse or the same as pictures.  Generally, girls never look better. We understand camera angles that make us look hot.

On occasion you can get messages and they don’t have pictures, I generally don’t reply because no pictures means either

a)      They have a girlfriend

b)      They are ugly

Either way I don’t want to reply to either of those guys. Unless you count that guy with the girlfriend from Friday because I would let him take me on a date just to spite his girlfriend who I hate.

But I made an acceptation to the rule when I read this message and the guy was funny, a little witty, seemed generally interesting, and okay.

So we talk for a couple days and I am interested in this guy (in a you don’t seem to bad for being on a dating website kind of way), it doesn’t help that in my head I am picturing this Ian Somerhalder, Johnny Depp, tortured soul with this dark mysterious side. Seriously, doesn’t that sound magical? In my head he is sexy, so I ask for a picture and pray for the best. Please, please, please have eyes like Ian and the personality of Johnny and the abs of Channing. Please say there wasn’t pictures because you are just too damn sexy they made you take them down. Yes, people, I understand the odds of this happening are .03% but I am a believer.

 I did not even know what to do. He was probably 350 pounds, glasses, greasy, man. At this point you probably think I am a huge bitch, but seriously, let me refer you back to the dating scale, I am a 6 or a 7, he was a 2. I put pictures on my profile, good and bad pictures, so you know what you are getting, on my good and my bad days. He could see what I looked liked. He knew what he was getting. I got Chris Farley with out the funny personality, because I could have at least friend zoned this guy if that was the case. The picture of my Ian, Johnny, Channing mix suddenly turns into this man and all I can think of is fat guy little jacket. Seriously, I almost sent that clip from Tommy Boy and left it at that. But I didn’t; because I am not a heartless bitch.

So even though, I can be a bitch, I am usually only a bitch when I need to be or you’ve pissed me off; this guy had done neither, so I was trying to be nice. I simple said to him that I was casually dating another guy and things where starting to get more serious and I wanted to see where it would go.

That is the politest way I’ve ever let some one down. I feel like that was super awesome of me. I could have told him that he was too ugly for me to be seen in public with, but that would have been mean.

This man went off the deep end crazy! Saying that he didn’t care if I was dating some one else, I needed to continue to talk to him because he enjoyed talking to me. Uhh, you are not Christian Grey, you can not talk to me like that. I have never been good with being told what to do. Maybe in bed but even then in the back of my mind, I am saying don’t tell me what to do. So I still tried to be nice, saying that I was not comfortable with that but I would contact him if things didn’t work. Again, I am obviously giving you the brush off; I am trying to be nice. Take it and go.

He then flew off the fucking handle. He told me that I was only saying this because of how he looked. At this point I had never mentioned any thing about looks. I didn’t say any thing about the pictures he sent. Not a damn fucking thing, so now I am a little angry. I tried to be nice jackass now you are just being rude. So in the nicest way possible I said, that he did seem different than most guys I’ve date, but I enjoyed talking to him, and (again) I would let him know if things did not pan out with my imaginary serious relationship. Seriously I should get an award at this point for being so nice. Okay, maybe not, but it was pretty damn nice for me.

HE CAME BACK FOR MORE! How did this man just not pick up his dignity and move on? He then asked what kind of guys I usually date, I said guys I find hot. Maybe not the best answer, but that’s generally how I pick my boyfriends. He then asked me how that worked out for me; are you kidding me? Well, fuck you too, asshole. So I did what any sane person would do. I said that for the most part it worked. Which is kind of true.; but let’s be honest here, I have a man flying me across Canada, a man who has the body of Matthew Mcconaughey, I am not going on a date with Chris Farley. I don’t even care how that makes me sound…it’s true.

 I really thought that would be the end of this crazy man sadly it wasn’t. I didn’t leave any openings for him to continue the conversation but that didn’t stop him, nope this man is relentless. Obviously, I pissed him off, and he was going to shell out his years of rejection on me.

He told me the only thing I have going for me is nice hair. Umm, Mr. I am so fucking full of myself for no apparent reason, what do you have going for you? And my hair is nice thank you; it is also hella expensive, thanks for noticing jackass. Apparently I am also a self centered, egotistical, materialistic bitch just to let you know. Crazy because twenty minutes ago you wouldn’t let me nicely stop talking to you. Go figure.

So thus concludes my month of on-line dating. I am going back to the real world of dating where you can judge people in silence and use the hot/smart/funny scale. If you want my honest opinion, this is what’s wrong with the world we date in. False confidence behind a computer screen, fine for blogging, bad for dating; if you want to ask some one on a date, grab some real life balls and approach her when you are half corked like a normal person. 

Day 57...It's Girl Logic.

I want to explain some thing to all the women out there, to the women who are crying over men while eating some Ben and Jerry’s ice cream because the guy you like just isn’t that into you and you keep acting a damn fool. We are going to talk about Girl Logic. It’s a theory I have, and a damn good one.

I made out with Skippers roommate Friday night, why? Not because I think his roommate is an awesome guy, on the contrary, I think he was kind of a douche bag. On any other night I would have ruthlessly made fun of this man.  So why did I do it? Because I didn’t think Skipper liked me, well I know he didn’t like me. He didn’t call me, he didn’t really ask me to hang out again, and I saw him with another girl, multiple times. It was obvious he liked this other Mulan looking chick. Lord only knows why, I couldn’t find any reason to like her, both times we awkward sat around drinking at the same table. Hell even her friend said I was better than her.  So why would making out with his roommate make him like me? It wouldn’t. In fact, it only makes me look worse. But at the time it seemed like a good idea. Girl Logic.

This is this Girl Logic

Boy I like/Girl Logic = WHY THE FUCK AM I DOING STUPID SHIT

You are probably thinking wow Justine, that’s horrible I would never do that, I am a classy broad and you are a mess, I am a dating expert and never do stupid things around guys. To you I say, fuck you, you are lying to yourself. You do it. Even if you don’t want to admit it, you are no better than me, because it’s not our fault, it is Girl Logic. It can’t be helped.

Every single girl I know does it. Boyfriend is pissing you off, you go have drinks with your girlfriends, do your hair and make up and go to the bar to “dance” aka get hit on by guys. You may not kiss another guy but you flirt, you touch their arm and laugh at their bad jokes, you bat your eye lashes and make sure your cleavage is bringing in attention. You like a guy and you know he is going some where, you go, and you make sure you look damn good, even if he didn’t invite you? Why? Because that is Girl Logic. Girl Logic causes women to do crazy things and we can justify all of our actions when Girl Logic is blocking your normal logic.

It’s what we do as women and I have named it Girl Logic. You welcome, now you have a name for all your dumb choices and you can blame Girl Logic instead of yourself. So next time your friends are judging you for a bad choice you made about a guy, you can say it wasn't your fault and that Girl Logic allowed you to do it.

We have a delusional sense that another man can fix the problems that we are having with a current man. Generally it never does, even just the harmless flirting, because even though you are getting attention from a random guy at the bar to make up for the lack of attention you are getting at home, you are still not getting the attention at home. But as women, we think that it will help and we continue to reason with ourselves that it will.  We lose all sense of normal human being logic and enter into Girl Logic. It is a time when good decisions are thrown out the window and you act in a way that normally, if you didn’t like a guy, you wouldn’t act.

Girl Logic is escalated after a break up, during wedding planning and when you really have feelings for a guy. This is peak time when you shouldn't be trusted to make your own choices, but we do, regardless of what our friends tell us. It’s the ability to justify almost all bad choices.  It is usually enhanced by alcohol and can cause you to  send an extra text message, call him at 3 in the morning to see how he is doing, and “casually” run into him while wearing your favorite jeans that make you have an ass like you are god damn Beyonce. Girl Logic is a bitch.

But here is my problem, Girl Logic, can’t be helped, it’s like PMS, but men categorize it as "crazy." Women are not crazy, we all know women who are "crazy" but if they were crazy they would be locked up, they are going through Girl Logic. They are probably normal human beings who make average life choices when their brain isn't being blocked by Girl Logic.

 I wish we could turn off Girl Logic because that would only be to easy, girls would get every guy they ever wanted (as long as they were in the same dating scale). As girls, we know how to play the dating game, we know what we should and shouldn’t do, we’ve read the books, we’ve given the advice, but it blocks something in our brains and makes us act like fucking idiots, like making out with Skipper roommate. That was not me, that was Girl Logic.

Day 54,55,56...I left my dignity in the first wine bottle

I don’t even want to begin to tell you about my weekend. I’ve still yet to find my dignity. I left it in my first bottle of wine. So instead I will tell you the lessons of Friday night.

1.      . Skipper will probably never talk to me again. That’s fine. At this point I don’t care, he can go for the girl who only has one shirt and a jean jacket and wears her hair on top of her head likes she is the white version of Mulan. I am sure she is a rad chick. It’s okay that you told me she is horrible in bed and I am amazing, I am sure you will be happy in your relationship
2. Skipper’s roommate, not as good of a kisser as Skipper and definitely not as charming. Don’t judge me. We only kissed.
3. It’s ok to let Skipper’s best friend hit on you all night (different guy than roommate). You can never hear how beautiful you are to many times, although I am sure at that point in the night I wasn’t beautiful
4. It is not okay to cry to Skipper in his kitchen about your ex…ya that is definitely not ok. Especially when it was his roommate that brought you back to his house
5. It is always alright to flirt with a guy with a girlfriend, as long as you hated his girlfriend in high school and it’s even more okay if you hated her friends even more. But he seemed super happy in his commit relationship with her, funny he didn’t mention her once when he asked me on a date for tonight. Don’t worry I am not going on a date with this man. Although I do appreciated his witty banter and use of sarcasm
6. It’s even more okay to let said guy grab your ass and pretend not to notice.
7.  It is not okay to let Kermit pick you up at 6 in the morning and go back to his house and sleep there till 5 in the afternoon the next day.  

There you have it. I told you I lost my dignity. Don’t judge me. Okay fine, I am even judging me at this point.