Words of encouragement from couples to us singles

Ah the joys of being single, it seems everyone has advice for us poor single beings. You would almost guess that a couples favourite pass time is to give us single folk’s words of encouragement. Couples are the poster holders in the marathon of love.

 Most of my friends are in relationships and it’s like they just itch to find that other couple friend that can spend their nights going for dinners, discussing books, new TV series they are watching as a couple, the things couple do now that their days of beers and wild sex are over.

So as the token single girl of my group I get countless offerings of encouragement and hope, these are my favourite

1. Don’t worry, there is so many fish in the sea – I want to know when this became the token thing to say to a single person? Don't ever bring up a sea or how there is a bountiful amount of fish, unless we are snorkeling, in that case carry on
2. You are so great/pretty/funny/random adjective, how are you single? – Thanks grandma still trying to figure that out
3. Maybe you should lower your standards – I don’t think I even have standards anymore, I just pray they don’t shit themselves on the first date now and even that has happened to me and I still went out on a second date with him
4. Have you tried on-line dating? – yes...sadly blazinpussygod420 didn’t meet my ridiculously high standards
5. You’ll meet someone when you least expect it – You know the only time I don’t expect to meet someone...when I am pooping...in a bathroom. Other than that I am always expecting it. Like a dating ninja
6. You have to love yourself before someone can love you – Do you love yourself? No one loves themselves; we are programmed to hate ourselves, it’s in our nature as women, unless you are Beyonce.
7. I’m going to set you up with *insert male name here!* He is absolutely perfect for you – if you’ve ever been set up you know that they are never perfect, there is always a fatal flaw.
8. You won’t ever meet someone at a bar -.Good I go to the bar to drunk and laid, not meet prince charming
9. I’m jealous you are single you must have so much fun, sometimes I miss being single – Right, cause not getting laid is totally awesome! Hey at least I don’t have to shave my legs
10. Maybe if you got out more you could meet someone – Have you been out? It scary. I like to keep my going out options minimal for this exact reason
11. There’s a guy out there for you, don’t stop looking – I thought I was suppose to stop looking so I wouldn’t expect it. Just admit it, you know nothing.

See, it seems like everyone in a relationship has some sort of advice to offer, maybe they feel sorry for us? Maybe they just don’t know what to say to us? Maybe being single is like a disease, I’m not really sure, but regardless none of us want your advice. But bless your heart.

I miss you...r vagina

You may recall that I’ve previously mentioned that I stopped really dating, if you can call what I’ve been doing the last 6 months dating. I am not desperate enough to resort to on-line dating and the bitterness Melvin left me towards men does not make me an ideal candidate for men, which leads to most of my weeknights spent at the gym and then watching Netflix and becoming consumed in fictional characters love lives. The closest thing I have to a healthy relationship right now is me cursing the stair master everyday then saying sorry when my pants aren’t as tight the next week.  

 Lately though  my Thursday nights have started to get a little more exciting, the last three Thursday’s, starting around 9:30 the drunk texts start to pour through from men I’ve left in my past. I think it is a testament to my taste in men that for the last three weeks in a row I get drunken texts sent on a Thursday night. They generally follow the same pattern, it starts with a hey with one too many “y’s” followed by a “what are you doing baby” and finishes with an “I miss you.”

Let me decode this for you, anytime there is an extra y in any text, it means hi, I am drunk, any time there is a, what are you doing, from a random man that you've slepted with, it means come over and sleep with me, any time they say “I miss you” it means porn and lube just aren’t going to cut it tonight maybe I can trick her into sleeping with me. Men, this is about as sneaky as asking a girl to come over and watch a movie. You don’t miss us, you don’t really care what we are doing or what’s new with our lives, you are just drunk and horny and sending out a text to anything with two legs and a heartbeat, vagina optional at this point.

I get drunken texting, I could write a short story with the embarrassing drunken texts I’ve sent through the years but I save them for weekends you know why, because at 11 at night, when I am consumed with Vampire Diaries, telling me you miss me does not make me want to hop in my car and come over, it makes me want to punch you in the face. Also, I am probably sitting at home in an over sized old t-shirt, dirty sweat pants, unshaven legs, zero make up and red eyes from crying over the fictional characters love lives. You don’t want that girl to come over, hell even the ugly girl at the bar by herself is a better option than me at that point, maybe she shaved her leg, go bug her.

That will be story for the grandkids

Remember when I wasn’t really dating and didn’t have guys to worry about? Remember how nice that was for me and how boring it was for you? Well, in the name blogging I went on a date kind of and it is safe to say that I am ready to crawl back into my hole.

I had met this guy a couple of times partying with friends, I was kind of excited about him, he was nice, fun, and had good taste in music, all good things. Last week he invited me over on the Friday night because he was having some friends over, I went and it was nothing special and drove home pretty early. The next day was beautiful and summer is pretty much over so I decided to take advantage of it and go out to my cabin and I invited him. He agreed but only if we stopped and got a cheese burger to cure his hang over.

We get out to my cabin and he is chatting with my dad, I am not one of those people who hide people from their parents until they know for sure it will work, I have to expose them to that crazy and if they stay then I know it will work. He passed the test, so off we went into the water and my dad left. After some swimming he said he was cold and asked if we could get out. Sure, why not? I think you are being a pussy, but what ever you want love.

 While getting onto the dock he said he didn’t feel good. I have zero sympathy for people who are hung over; I power through the world’s worst hang over’s on a bimonthly basis, power through yours. I say we will go up to the cabin and get some water and he will be fine and I walk away, I get to the stairs and turn around to find him lying on the grass in a very dramatic way and I’ll I can think is come on pal, get your shit together, little did I know that thought was going to come back and bite me in the ass.

I walk over and ask if he okay, “I can’t see and I can’t hear and I don’t feel good.” Check yourself buddy, this is not how you impress a girl, not at all. I explain to him that there is no way in hell that I could get his 6’5 ass up the stairs so he better  regroup and get his ass up the stairs if he was that sick. He agrees and we walk over to the stairs, I march up the stairs to go grab water and I hear THUNK! I look down to see him sprawled on the grass and dirt, oh god really? Are we being dramatic, did we miss the concept of left then right for movement, or are we actually really sick? I don’t know what’s going on at this point so I go down the stairs. I splash some water on him (logical choice right) and say we need to get him up the stairs. He gets up and slowly but surely makes it up the stairs. I’ve decided this date is over so I am going to take him home now to deal with this on his own when he proclaims he has to “poop” and lets out the grossest smelling fart I have ever had the displeasure of smelling, I run away to safety aka inside the cabin. That’s when I hear yet another loud THUNK! Fuck me gently what is going on with this guy! I decided at this point maybe I should take him to the hospital and am actually kind of concerned. Any body who could let out a fart that gross smelling must have something wrong with them. I get him up and he proclaims again his need for the bathroom and rushes in there. He calls my name and I hesitantly reply yes, he says,

“I shit my pants”

No. Just no. This is not okay; no way in hell is this happening to me. I don’t know what to say, for the first time in my life I am left speechless.

“It’s on your deck.” 

It? It as in poop? There is poop on my deck, not your pants. I am so confused and grossed out and why is this happening to me!

Any bad date I’ve ever had, any mean thing that Melvin has done to me, I would pick over this. I don’t do poop, unless it’s in a toilet and you are telling me about it. I don’t touch poop, I don’t like to clean up my dogs poop and those are small, human poop?! NO FUCKING WAY.

I walk outside to see the biggest, steamiest, pile of poop. I am dry heaving and have tears running down my face. WHY ME GOD, WHY!”

I clean it up and I go inside and ask if he’s okay, he is not, he is going to pass out again, I have to go in to the danger zone, I don't have any comrades to help me out, I am there, alone.

This can’t get any worse right? Wrong, it can. There is a naked 6’5 man covered in dirt, poop and now puke, the smell alone was enough to kill a person. This is not how I planned seeing him naked for the first time.  I have to get him out of here; I get him dressed in my dad’s old clothes and rush to the hospital.

I get security to take him in and he is getting admitted. I am sitting there on my phone telling my dad what has happened when I look up and he’s gone. POOF! Vanished, how does a 6'5 man who has shit himself and is covered in puke just vanish? Beats me, but you thought I would have smelled him leaving. You might think this is where I get to get in my car and drive home and reflect on the day, but there is a small problem, I have all his stuff, his shoes, his phone, and lets not forget his bag of clothes covered in poop that is in my car.

I walk up to security to see if I can give him his stuff that are now currently in my possession, and of course they ask for a last name, which by the way I have no idea of, they ask for the first name, and of course I only know his nickname, so I do what any person who just went through a traumatic situation does, freak the fuck out.

“Look, I just went out on a date with this guy and I had to clean up his shit! I just want to give him his stuff and get the hell out of dodge okay.”

The security guard is laughing hysterically, I am less than impressed that he finds this so fucking hilarious. At this point it's not funny to me, it's traumatizing.  “That will be a story for the grandkids!”

No sir it is not, just take his stuff and let me go shower.

I get out and I go home then to a party at Melvin’s house, I don’t care what you say, nothing Melvin has done has been that bad.

Note- the guy was actually really sick, spent the night in the hospital and so I should probably have a heart and feel a little bad for him, because I do and I know how embarrassing it is... but you picked the girl with a blog to go on a date with...sorry, but the world must know.