Why do awkward things always happen to me?

Have you ever walk into a situation and you walk in oblivious to what is going to happen next, you walk in thinking everything is going to be normal and fine and then in a moment everything changes and it is mass chaos. I suspect it would be the same thing as being mugged. I was mugged. Except it was for a job interview. I walked into the interview prepared and I then I was mugged of my preparation and now I am left standing on  a street corner wondering what the fuck just happened. (figurative street corner not actual street corner, although if I don’t find a new job soon that is where I might end up)

Group interviews.  Have you ever partaken in a group interview? I applaud you if you haven’t. It was a horrible life experience that I never want to deal with again. If you don’t know what a group interview is it’s where they shove a group of candidates in a room and interview you all, like, at once.

30 girls where put into a room, sitting there, silently judging every one that walked in, waiting and wondering what the fuck was going on. I know I wasn’t the only one doing this, I’ve seen Mean Girls, I know what’s up.

Dr. Perv,  that we are interviewing for walks in, with his daughter (who I assumed was the double for the girl from The ring) and says

“Don’t worry, the biggest group interview I did was 119.” 

Is that suppose to be reassuring? It wasn’t. See if it was 119, I could have slipped out the back and bypassed this whole mess of a situation. 30 women in one room, I can’t sneak out, I am stuck. 

Then it starts, queen of the bitches starts the interview, ten minutes early, even though 4 fucking more candidates where still not there (she doesn’t like late people, good thing I have a fear of being late). She asks if everyone has a pen and paper. I have never in my life gone to a job interview with a pen and paper, I know they told me to in my college prep course, but let’s be realistic, I am applying for a shitty office job, not something of substance, you ask the questions, I give you a generic, well thought out answer, no pen and paper necessary, a list of skills and weaknesses that I can cleverly spin to seem like positives. My first mistakes, the fucking pen and paper, I raised my hand and said I didn’t have one, I should have asked to use the bathroom and bolted, I didn’t do that though, and that was my second mistake. How in a room full of 30 girls am I the only one who missed the memo about the fucking pen and paper. I hope girlfriend doesn’t feel the same way about pens and paper as she does late people.

I get my pen and paper and I am so confused as to what is going on, but lesson one from Mean Girls, don’t show any signs of weakness. They kill you if you show signs of weakness. So then queen bitch starts asking questions, I am suppose to write down my answers, you’ve all read this blog, if you could say one thing about my blog (besides me being hilarious) is that I can’t fucking spell, at all, you look past it and continue to read because you know

1)      I am hilarious, and

2)      It makes you feel better about yourself

 I was blind and partially deaf till grade 3, that gives me an out on all things spelling and telling time related. My first therapist said it would be okay and computers would just do spell check for me eventually and I could go back and participate in show and tell again. Little did that therapist know I’d have a group fucking interview where I had to write down my answers.  

So I write and I write and I write and by the last question I know that this is hopeless and I should just go get a cheese burger and go the fuck back to my shitty office job. I stopped caring, I just started writing down answers that don’t make sense

 

“Please tell us why you would be an excellent candidate for this job” – I am not. I didn’t have a pen and paper.

 She asks us to add anything that they may want to know at the end and I refrain from drawing a diagram to politely show her how to go fuck herself. I move on to part two of this “job interview,” a test. A personality test, an attention to detail test and some other test involving math that I didn’t want to do. Girlfriend beside me whips through her test faster than I can eat a whole pizza before anyone gets home to notice and that just increases my test anxiety. But I finish and we sit there, all 30 of us, in this awkward silence, then Dr.Perv,  walks out and walks up and down looking at every girl like she is some kind of meat at the super market and he’s deciding what he wants to have for dinner. Never in my life have I been so uncomfortable and I ran naked across a football field while 90 percent of my high school watched and I was in the paper where most of my town saw my ass on the front page, this was still a million times MORE uncomfortable. I would rather go to thy gyno than go through that shit again. So he walks...back and forth...back and forth...back and forth then disappears into his backroom again. He does this again, I’m starting to wonder if he is going to start throwing loonies at us because it’s just as degrading at this point.

 He asks three girls to stay back and the rest of us can go, this whole situation has left me stunned and maybe appreciating my slightly less perverted boss. At least where I work the men discreetly check you out. I just want to know how and why awkward situation always happen to me, what have I done to always be put into the most awkward situations. I don't deal with them well, I make inappropriate jokes, I make weird faces, and always, always do the absolutely worst things that doesn't help defuse the awkwardness.

Girls, why do you understand me so

"I don’t even want a boyfriend. I just want someone who wants to hang out all the time, and thinks I’m the best person in the world, and wants to have sex with only me. And it makes me feel very stupid to tell you this because it makes me sound like a girl, who wants to like go to brunch and I really don’t want to go to brunch, and I don’t want you to like sit on the couch while I shop, or like even meet my friends. I don’t even want that, okay?

And I don’t really see you hearing me, and I don’t really see you changing, so… I just summed it up. And I’m sorry that I didn’t figure it out sooner and you must think I’m even stupider than you thought already, but consider it a testament to your charms. Because you might not know this, but you are very, very charming. And I really care about you. And I don’t want to anymore because it feels too shitty for me. So I’m gonna leave."

What's new and exciting with you?

I am going to start avoiding public places where I run the risk of running into old family friends, simply so I can avoid the question “what’s new with you, married, kids?”

I am 24, and not a, I got my shit together 24, more of a, oh she is still finding herself, 24. I specialized in booze and shopping for the greater part of my early 20’s, I had little to no desire to make it to my 8 am lecture in college because I had been up till 4 in the morning partying. I had no desire to marry the catastrophically wrong guy for me in my early 20’s, I understood birth control so there wasn’t a surprise baby and I wasn’t in a rush to find a unsatisfying career that would result in me waking up at 40 with a job I hate because society deemed it necessary that I picked a career path at 18.

 Am I in a better place because of those choice? No, I am not, just a different place, I live in my parents basement, spend my Friday nights hoping a guy just as catastrophically wrong for me shows me some kind of interest, and I can sing every word to every Taylor Swift song...and I have choreographed dances to the majority of them.

Still, I feel like just assuming that because most of my peers have had some kind of accomplishment in their lives it is not okay to assume that all of us have. So asking the question “what’s new” is totally acceptable, assuming that I have made some great accomplishment by 24, like making a human being with my genitals, is not an okay postscript to the question what’s new. When I ask you, older family friend lady, what’s new with you, I don’t end the sentence with “how was menopause, those hot flashes are a bitch eh?” You know why I don’t ask that, because it’s fucking rude and I do have a small amount of couth.

29, this is the appropriate age where it’s alright to ask those questions, are you married , do you have kids, until then you just ask me how I am doing and I will reply with some kind of societal mainstream response. Chances are if I have spend a massive amount of money on one day, I will tell you, the chances are even higher, if I’ve made a human being, I will tell you.

 You may be asking yourself why 29? To you I say, thank you for indulging me and letting me continue on this rant.

29, that is the average age women of Canada get married. So, if at 29 you feel the need to ask me if I am married, I will accept it and probably still reply with the same answer I did last night, “HA! I can barely get a second date from a guy, baby steps.” Which, in case you were wondering, is not a funny response and tends to lean to more awkward.

29 also happened to be the average age women choose to bare children, not 24. You know what average is for 24 year olds, having 510 friends on Facebook, and I am close to that, so I feel a small sense of normalcy and accomplishment.

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.

I'm sorry I mentioned it

Jenna and I took a road trip to go get bridal lingerie last week, on our way back she asked me that if enough time passed would I consider getting back together with Kermit. She pointed out how well we worked together for so long, and how much I cared for him and how bad dating has been for me since him, really it's been horrible. After I was done hysterically laughing and then crying I replied with no, more like fuck no but you get what I am sayin. Kermit and I really tried to make a friendship work after our breakup, I really wanted a friendship to work, there was just one problem, somewhere between the end of our relationship and now he has turned into a complete douche bag. Have you ever tried to be friends with a complete douche bag? It’s hard isn’t it.

 Which leads me to last Friday, after having possibly the most crap filled week I received news that an old co-worker died. I worked with him when I worked with Kermit so I thought I would let Kermit know, in case you know, he decided to stop being an arrogant prick, turns out he hasn't so that's great.

 

 You know the saying though, once an arrogant prick, always an arrogant. He asked how I was doing, I said absolutely horrible, my week is shit, I got the boot for my “roommates” and there has been a pile of stress lately. Wrong thing to say, you know what you say when your ex boyfriend asks how you are doing? You say good. And you run. Otherwise you get some not needed pep talk about how you need to look at things positively and you are just whiny. Great. Have you been around lately? No, it's been shit, there isn't a whole lot to be positive about. Thanks for adding to my great week, you sure know how to make a girl feel better. I texted back and say, alright have a nice day this is why we don’t talk anymore. He texted me my give-a-fuck meter is right out so I left it.

 

Fast forward to Saturday night when I am having drinks at Melvins, (don't ask) I get a text from Mike

 

"Kermit asked me for your number, which is weird because I didn't give him mine"

 

"well...he probably got it on a bathroom stall. He has my number though, I just talked to him Friday."

 

That's weird right? Why, do not text my friends, you lost those in the divorce, you got all the furniture, I got my friends. Maybe if you weren't an arrogant prick you could have your own, as it stands, they are mine, back off.

 When I first met Kermit he was the nicest, most understanding guy I had ever met, that is what I liked about him, he listened and he cared, over time that person faded, since breaking up that person has flown to never ever land never to be seen again and this new cocky jackass has stepped in to take his place. Let me tell you a secret folks, he is not all that and a bag of potatoes chips, I dated the guy I know, he’s wasn’t some amazing catch that I stumbled on and luckily kept.  No, he was weird and dorky but he cared about people. You know what has changed since we’ve broke up? The amount on his pay cheques. That does not give a person reason to turn into an egotistical dickhead yet somehow it always seems to have that affect.

 So that friendship has dissolved, so I retract any statement that I have previously made that ex’s can be friends, they can’t, they can be civil.