Nagging bitches and lazy men

I’ve been horrible lately about posting in here, I used to read peoples blogs and hate when they would say that; I think uhhh I have so much to say I could always write something! Ya, no, it’s not that I’ve been busy, it’s not that I’ve been taken a hold of in a world wind of romance, no, I’ve just been boring and Coupon Queen has fully lost her mind, but I am under strict instruction that I cannot write about that, at least until the whole situation has defused and she isn’t bonkers anymore. You may be waiting a while for that story.

I don’t have boys to complain about, because I’ve stopped obsessing over Melvin, he comes around every now and then; I just don’t care if he comes or goes, wish I could have had this attitude months ago instead of obsessing over every move.

But what I really want to tell you about how in less than 5 hours I will be making my way out to Gibbons, to go to BOONSTOCK! I’ve gone to music festivals before but the difference this time is that I’ve always gone with a group of girls, girls that plan matching outfits, meals, drinks, everything down to what underwear we will be wearing. This year…I am going with Mike and another guy friend…the difference between men and women is unparalleled. I started asking a month ago if we could get things planned out, they told me not to worry, that we would plan it closer to the date. Of course days past, weeks went by, and no one gave a shit that I was in full fledge panic mode because we hadn’t so much as planned what we were going to sleep in, let alone outfits. Let me tell you that up until Monday, my plan was to find a boy, kick him out of his tent, and sleep there, because that was the best idea I could come up with and no one else knew what was going on either!

 

 While over at Melvin’s last week I stated that I was stressed because out of the two other people I was going with, one was at EDC in Vegas and the other was away working, so we hadn’t planned anything. He said, what do you need to plan? Get food and booze and the rest will be fine. That seems to be the general attitude of men, meh it will work itself out, it will be fine, and we’ll figure it out as we go.  As a list lover, female and a planner, I can tell you I do not share that attitude. I need plans and back up plans, and these men had zero sympathy for my needs. Of course, typical male.

Women are by nature I think, naggers, because of our constant need to mother and take of things and people and ensure things turn out perfectly, men let us nag and panic, and they ignore us when we get into that mode, because they’re attitude is, meh it will work out. Think about weddings, women take on average a year to plan one day, in general most men would take a month to plan a wedding, tops, they would call their buddy up, say "hey man, I'm getting married, come get drunk and see me get married! I got the beer, you bring the steaks!" And they wouldn't worry about RSVP's, dresses, alteration, center pieces, nope none of it. Women will spend a year panicking over every detail, nagging to the grooms men about getting their tuxes and men will continue to put it off until they are ready. Women will yell and scream and not understand how he says he is busy so he can't go get his tux but really he is just going fishing and why isn't he worried that we wont have it done in time! Because men are not planners, they don't really think about the time and effort and the deadlines, that's what they have us for. We nag and push and they do it in their own time, and things will be what they will be.

 

 Trust me ladies, I tried with Boonstock to be easy going, to just let it play out, I cannot. Do you know how many fucking lists I’ve made in the last week trying to make up for the fact that the last month I have not made one list pertaining to Boonstock, 11, 11 fucking lists and I still don’t feel like I have enough outfits, or enough of this or I think I forgot that, and I’m still worried that I won’t have any where to plug my curling iron in…but it will work out and hopefully I make it back alive! Pray to Allah for my liver.

 

 

So my point? There probably isn't any use in nagging, in panicking, because it will be what it will be, but maybe men can take a lesson from us too? That maybe a plan before the last minute would help ease the stress just a little.

 

 

The friend zone

I’m so glad we are friends, you are such a great guy, you are going to make some girl super happy some day, I’m here for you as a friend, I’d really like to take some time and focus on myself and be single for a while; all sentences that you my dear male friend, have entered into the friend ship zone. Don’t...just don’t even think that you still have a chance to get out of the friendship zone once any of those words have been uttered, because that means that there isn’t a chance, zip, zero, zilch, nada, none.

As women we don’t like to reject men, no well, that’s not true, we have no problem rejecting the creepy guy at the bar, but men that have made an effort to be part of our lives, men that make us feel good, we don’t want to get rid of you, woman hold onto broken things, things that won’t work,  we have a hard time throwing things out, why else do you think I have clothes that I haven’t worn in years  that I just can’t bring myself to throw away...because eventually I may need them. Will I ever wear those shoes with the broken strap? Will I ever wear that shirt that was too small 4 years ago? Probably not, but I like to have the option that I could wear them. Same goes with men. We like to have options, to ease the blow of being rejected from other men, to comfort us on lonely nights, and give us an ego boost on our fat days. We keep you around, as a friend.  

When I was doing extensive research for this, men seem to offer advice on why and how you got to this point, that advice? You are in the friend zone because you didn’t try to be anywhere else, this advice is bullshit. You aren’t there because this girl had no idea you had feelings for her, she knows, that’s why she has said “I am so glad we can be friends,” she is looking for a way to make sure you know you are in the friend zone but she wants to keep you around. Trust me, have I ever said to Melvin “I am so glad we are friends!” No. Never, because I don’t want to be his friend, so I am not going to outline that we are. Have I said to Kermit (post breakup) that I am glad we are friends, yes, because I don’t want to date him but I like him as a friend. So men you don’t need to grab a set of balls and ask her out on a date, you don’t need to try to kiss her, it’s too late, she has made her mind up that she is just your friend and you will never get to her Treasure Island.

Men also have the idea it’s because women are just attracted to assholes and you are the nice guy. Listen, of course you are nice, you want to get to her Treasure Island, you are going to bring her lunch, listen to her problems, pick her up from the bar after a few too many drinks, you are going to do whatever you can to help you get there, and once she picks some asshole (not you) you will blame women everywhere for liking assholes. Women don’t actively seek assholes; we don’t subconsciously like the arrogant pig that is going to make us cry, men just do stupid shit sometimes and guess what you are the person she turns to when that guy does stupid shit because you are her friend, so of course you hear about all the asshole things he does, he is a man, you all do asshole things and we are women, we are a little sensitive so we vent and we cry and we blow things out of proportion. It has nothing to do with you being a nice guy, that’s probably one of the only reasons you are still around, but a long time ago she put you in her not datable list, maybe she doesn’t like your arm pit hair, maybe she doesn’t like your sense of humour, maybe she thinks you would be a project, for whatever reason, you aren’t datable to her. You can’t change how she feels which is unfortunate because I tried dating the guy I put in the friend zone once, he did what those other guys writing dating advice columns told him to do, he made a move and it worked but not because I had feelings for him, but because I felt bad...like I didn’t want to hurt him because he was my friend, but in the end I couldn’t change that I just wasn’t into him and we broke up, and weren’t friends any more. Did he find someone who loved him, who appreciated more than I ever could all the sweet and nice things he does? Of course, he was a great guy, that’s why I wanted him as a friend, but was that person me? No, it wasn’t and he, in all honesty, wasted six months trying to date me when I was just never that into it.

There is no better way to say it than...unreciprocated feelings suck, even worse when the friendship is a stake, you can either suck it up and just be her friend and watch and she dates other guys, or you can end the friendship and move on to another girl. But you will always just be her friend

 But am I some kind of dating expert, no? I didn’t even finish my last college course, I am an idiot when it comes to my own love life, but I can say without question, that there have been guys that I have strung along and said that I just wanted to be friends because I enjoyed their company on lonely nights. So my advice to the guys who are currently in love with a girl who is “so happy the two of you are such good friends,” either move on or be okay with just being friends but you can’t expect her to change how she feels just because you want her to.

The week that lead to me sitting in a parking lot looking like a crack head...part three

Part one is here part two is here

Part 3 – The Melvinator (kind of sounds like a bad ass super villain that destroys the hearts of girls everywhere, well really just mine, because normal people would not be attracted to this hot mess of a man)

It started Saturday, when I invited him out...again...and he declined...again, well first he said maybe, and then he said no, so it was really just more disappointing. Whatever, I am used to it at this point; I carry on and have an awesome Saturday night. But when I don’t hear from him Sunday, I feel a little sad, when I don’t hear from him by Tuesday, I am really sad, by Wednesday I am in breakdown mode, by Thursday I’ve concluded that I will be single forever, why? Because if I remotely have feelings for another male I act a damn fool and scare them away.

What is my solution, I text him, because he totally wants to hear from me right? No he doesn’t, but I do it anyways. I ask him if he wants to hang out Friday night, nope he doesn’t (we really aren’t that shocked are we?), he might possibly have plans, might possibly have plans, the possibility of plans is more attractive than making definite plans with me, or even coordinate another time to hang out, because throwing me a god damn bone (figuratively speaking you perv) would just be too much to ask for at this point.  Nah, he leaves it at that, and so do I. I can’t physically put myself out there anymore, I am standing so far out there by myself yet again it’s almost shocking that I can be in this same situation. But I can be.

You know that game Waka-mole? Melvin is the person playing the game and I am the little mole that pops out of the whole, but he’s really good at the game so he knocks me back into the whole multiple times and I just keep popping back up. Really, he is taking home the big teddy bear. That is my life analogy, Waka-mole. Let that just sink in for a minute...

 

Yep...

 

Sinking in?

 

Goooooooooooodddd....

So there’s that. This happened right before I was leaving work, so I just got rid of the Aussie who cushions my blows from Melvin, I am stressed over the toothless wonder, who has made it his own personal mission to treat me like shit and has now involved my boss instead of talking to me like an adult, and Melvin has made it clear that he doesn’t want to talk to me...

And because I have the best skin on the plant I have now fully broken out in a stress rash, and because I was dropped on my head as a child I thought that lotion would make it better, but I am allergic to some lotions, so without thinking I put lotion that I am allergic to all over my god forsaken body. GO LIFE!

I get into my car, I pull away from work and I commence into full mental breakdown mode, but I have Jenna’s baby shower on Sunday  so I have to go to the mall so I can get stuff to make a cup cake stand  for the 30 cup cakes and 30 cake pops Dana and I have made, so I am sitting in the parking lot at the mall crying and itching myself because of my stress rash and rash from being allergic to lotions, I look like a crack head. Maybe not a, I ask for change on a street corner crack head, but a upper middle class, white girl, crack head, think Lindsay Lohan, but in a Grand Am not a Escalade or Mercedes, and not as skinny. Why life? Why did I have to be a female, why do females have to have so many fucking feelings, why, why why. Why couldn’t I have been a male, why do I have the stupid ability to care the most for people who don’t care about me, it’s a lovely personality quality.

I get the cup cake stand and I drive to Kermit’s house, well our old house. Judge away my  friends, I walk in and he has wine sitting there for me, well a whole bottle of wine. So I drink and he talks and tells me it will be okay and he makes me feel better, which only throws me more into a downward spiral because how can the man I spent months crying over seem to be the only person who makes me feel better? I guess I’m happy that we can still be friends, that instead of rolling his eyes at my stupidity he listens and comforts me, he seems to get my crazy, and I’m glad that after all the bullshit we went through to this point we are still friends, then there was the silver lining, some glimmer of hope in my tragic white girl problems, he has started internet dating, he has been talking to a girl for a week! You guys must be confused because this is my silver lining, but I truly just want him to happy, I want him to find someone who makes him happy, but if she happens to be ugly than bless her heart. And she was. Well, she wasn’t horrible, but I was writing home about her either. Go ahead; tell me I am a bad person, tell me that I am going to the deepest part of hell for finding happiness in the fact that my ex’s new love interest is not as pretty as I am, go ahead tell me I am shallow and for saying that I will never find love again. I don’t care, it made me happy, and I feel a small sense of victory here. So I left his house and I feel better, I have a grip on my emotions, and maybe realize this is why I was medicated for so long.

One and one and one makes three...or a really awkward night

I had the best intentions last night. I really did. It started off as a casual drink with the Aussie and well...now I’m at work with three hours of sleep and a head ache. The head ache is probably from the events that occurred last night, not the amount of beer I consumed, that must be it.

The Aussie started trying to talk me into going for a drink around 11...a.m... I was obviously holding out in hopes that Melvin would ask me to hang out, but by 7 o’clock he hadn’t asked me to hang out so I agreed to go for a drink with the Aussie man. Here is the beauty of all of this, he is friends with Melvin’s friend, where did we go? Melvin’s good friend’s house. I was sitting there drinking my beer, in a corner, on the opposite side of the room as the Aussie because this was just too awkward to handle when someone said “well should we get going?” Going? Where are we going? I am pretty wrapped up in this show about bats we are watching, why can’t we just stay here...we don’t need to leave. Trust me. But obviously I am just along for the ride in this adventure so my opinion doesn’t matter. Where are we going you ask? Let me tell you...the dirty. This place is a black hole, you just get sucked it, you never just stay for one in this place, never has any one walked into this place had a beer and left. No, you’ll have like twenty beers and a pile of bad choices by the time you leave. So off we went and I knew where this night was heading. You think this would just be the end of the story right, you probably are sitting there saying “oh Justine, you silly kitten, that isn’t that bad, a couple beers on a Thursday, pfft I’ve done that before.” And you’d be right, if that’s where the story stopped. It doesn’t, God likes to spite me for my bad choice, or I just have a knack for putting myself into bad situations, probably a bit of both.

On the drive over someone asked who was all going to be there, after I heard the answer I seriously contemplated hurling myself out of a moving vehicle. Like unbuckle my seatbelt, get the vehicle up to warp speed and tuck and dive onto the pavement.

He listed off some names, and then he said it...Skipper...and...Melvin.

Fuck.

Off.

HOLY FUCKING CHRIST SAVE MY ALLAH, STRAP ME TO A BOMB AND LET ME GO TO MY 72 VIRGINS BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE LESS PAINFUL. ARE YOU JOKING? YOU HAVE TO BE JOKING RIGHT NOW. WHY DO I CONTINUALLY PUT MYSELF INTO BAD SITUATIONS? I SHOULD HAVE STAYED AT HOME AND WATCH DUCK DYNASTY LIKE I HAD PLANNED. PANIC. I AM PANICING. HOLY CHRIST, JESUS, ALLAH, AND BRITTNEY MURPHY WHAT AM I GOING TO DO.

Upon arrival I looked around and noticed that I was safe, they weren’t there. I’ll have a beer and get the hell out of dodge, mission accomplished right? Wrong, Nikki showed up, so well, I was done for, one beer turned into three and now my ride home (the Aussie, he’s still kicking around) is slightly inebriated and probably shouldn’t drive. Nikki and I go for a smoke and that is when I see Skipper walking up. Sheer and utter panic struck me. Let me remind you that this is the first time we’ve seen each other since the great encounter at Melvin’s house. At least this time I had pants on. There’s the silver lining in this whole mess I guess.

Then that Mulan girl who hates my guts shows up, great, all that’s missing midget and we could turn this into a reality TV show. On the plus side Mulan had on a different outfit for the first time ever! YAY Mulan!

The night was complete when Melvin showed up and I was sitting with the Aussie to my left, Melvin to my right and Skipper across from me.  Well this isn’t exactly how I pictured my first awkward encounter with Melvin and Skipper in the same room, and I really didn’t expect to be there with another guy, but I guess this is better than Sunday brunch at their mom’s house, at least in this situation I can drown the awkwardness in beer.

Skipper doesn’t stick around long, but he leaves Mulan, which is good because she is just my biggest fan (apparently they are still together, good for them), and I spend the majority of the night dodging the Aussie to be around Melvin. See the Aussie isn’t all that bad and I kind of feel bad because really, I just like Melvin and the Aussie is more of my cushion, but I’ve been assured by a mutual friend that he doesn’t do relationships and really, he could be deported at anytime so it’s best not to get invested with this one. But he seems okay none the else;  most of the time I don’t know what he’s saying, but what I seem to catch loud and clear is his attempts to sleep with me, so while he is offering me his place to sleep at and Melvin is sitting beside me, it makes for an interesting night.

Around 12:30 I knew my night had to end, I had had enough of Mulan and well...I had to work the next day, now that the Aussie was too drunk to drive, thanks to my encouragement, (the more he drank, the longer I could stay and talk to Melvin) we had to get a taxi.  We take the taxi to my house first, he asks to come in, I quickly shoot down that idea, just what my mom wants to wake up too, hi mom just leaving for work, there’s this Aussie down stairs, don’t mind him, I’m sure he will be gone soon, he’s suppose to drive to Seattle at some point today.  I go down stairs and I text Melvin, well needless to say within five minutes I was on my way to pick him up and we went back to his house. We mixed a drink and started talking, then that mother fucker told me I was confusing! Here we go, the king of hot and cold has informed me that I am confusing. He knows how I feel, you know how I feel, hell the lady at the grocery store almost knew how I feel. Are you guys confused with how I feel? I’ll break it down for you

Justine has a grade 8 style crush on Melvin

Melvin confuses Justine (probably due to her lack of patience and girl logic and general stupidity when it comes to him)

Justine uses other boys to cushion blow from Melvin’s confusion

Melvin does something funny/sweet/cute

Justine goes back to Melvin

Justine gets drunk and spills every emotion she has to Melvin because she is an idiot

Justine feels stupid for being an idiot and vows to get a grip and pony up about this situation

Justine goes back to step one and the cycle repeats

So that’s where my night ended, I went to bed, after being part of a three ring circus all night I was exhausted. I am even more exhausted today. I vow to make better choices next week and not weekday drink, because I am not 18 anymore. I’d like to thank boss man for noticing that I am hung over and ordering pizza today. I am going to eat that pizza and have a nap under my desk. If anyone needs me that’s where I will be.

A Successful Weekend

So what happens when you have a date with your father to go see a hockey game and you run into people from high school and decide to go to the dirty with every one after? Success. That is what happens.

Jeff and I went to a hockey game Friday night, it’s nice to know your date for Friday night is your father, it makes you feel special. Anyways, I ran into Mike and a bunch of people from high school and an old family friend, we took our night to the dirty, obviously my suggestion and the amount of class that is produced at this pub is outrageous, really, you will never find a classier establishment. Jeff, being the classy man he is ran into another friend upon arrival (he has classy friends) and I was sitting at a table alone, drinking my drink, watching this man hug this girl and he won’t stop looking at me, like this man isn’t even blinking, and I know he was looking at me because the only other person in our area was a 300 pound man who looked like he hadn’t showered in ages. I think to myself...oh great, here we go. I was right. He walked over to me and asked me to join him and his blonde “friend” for a drink, I turned around to look at her and she waved and winked. Now the last time someone attempted to pick me up for a 3 sum I was 19 and was so drunk I couldn’t have even told you my name, I was neither of those things, so I politely declined and stated I was just here with my father. He walked away. That lasted all of 5 minutes, he came back...this man obviously didn’t get my subtle rejection, so I said, listen, I am here with my father, that man right there, who is big, bald and a little scary, I’m good, have a good night. He leaves...my dad comes back and his friend shows up. We are sitting there discussing the hockey game when the girl comes over. GIRLFRIEND ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! I introduce her to MY FATHER and his friend. Still not picking up the hint that I do not want to talk to her, or him, and I especially don’t want to talk to either of them (and by talk I mean fuck). She starts telling me how she just got off work and he is drunk and if I could help her “tag team” (her words not mine) him for the night and she would buy my drinks. As tempting as a gansta in a sideways baseball cap is, I declined. Most fathers would have stepped in, right? Mine thought it was hilarious. Like absolutely fucking hilarious. Great.

After a few drinks I decide to text Melvin, good idea right? Well actually, it was! TAKE THAT! A bad choice that turned out good! Take that! He called he was on his way home from work and said he would meet me for a drink...until I said I was with my dad and a bunch of my friends...I’m not sure if it was the fact that he would have had to sit there in between me and Dana or sit there between m, Dana and my dad, but he didn’t come for a drink...but he did throw the idea out that if I wanted to come over once I was done that would be okay. I was drinking with my father, one can’t exactly be like “oh hey dad, I was just booty called...gotta go love you!” So what did I do...I put on my thinking cap! Dana was going to get donairs so I caught a ride with her to go get some meaty goodness smothered in sweet sauce (don’t be gross, I’m still talking about donairs). I strolled into his house at 2 in the morning two donairs in hand; if that isn’t the best booty call in the world I don’t know what is. Except I was drunk and we all know I make the best choice after a couple of drinks, so I figure it’s a good idea to get answers to all my questions, questions like, why oh why would you kiss me when you knew how complicated it was...his answer...you are too beautiful, I had to. Good answer, a little bit of a cop out...but I like being showered in compliments so I’ll take it. Then I explained that I was scared that he wanted to keep us a secret and I confused to what this actually was...my brain just couldn’t tell me mouth to shut up, I kept talking and talking, which is probably exactly what he wanted at 3 in the morning. But he answered them, for the most part, he has a knack for dodging serious questions and topics...but I feel better about whatever the hell the last month has been.

We finally ended up in his bedroom when my phone starts ringing. Now last Sunday when I was having a drink with Mike, we discussed answering your phone in the middle of hooking up. He said he had done it before and I was absolutely shocked! WHO DOES THAT!? I mean, I make questionable life choices but that one, that’s an interesting choice and I’m surprised he didn’t get slapped across the face. But that’s probably why we are best friends. We do awesome things when we drink. We always make responsibly, educated choices and seep awesome.  But he told me that if he ever called me in the middle of.... that I was to answer his phone call. So what does that mother fucker do to me...he calls me. I hear his ring tone; I panic in my head...dear Jesus do I answer? Can I really do that? No, ignore it...but he will be some kind of mad if I don’t. I know he will call me back and he will scream “Handerson, answer my fucking phone call you whore bag!” So I make a panic decision, which are never my best decisions, but it’s really a tossup because I am pretty sure Mike had left with this amazing girls (really, she is my new drinking partner! She is hilarious) a couple hours before so now I am worried something happened to him! I say just hold on and answer the phone, that’s right folks. I answered my phone. I did it. HA! Mike goes where are you...I say I’m at Melvin’s what do you want...he just wanted to chat, at 3 in the morning. Splendid, let’s chat Mike, it couldn’t wait till the morning? Melvin is slowly getting more annoyed, I get off the phone do some serious damage control and resume. He’s not happy but I wouldn’t be either, I mean it probably doesn’t look very good that I am getting a phone call at 3 in the morning from another guy, what can I say? I make good choices.

I left in the morning feeling a little better about this situation. I still don’t exactly get what I think is going to happen or what this is but this whole not panic go with the flow thing is still kind of working. So that’s my successful weekend. I seriously hope yours was less eventful.

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. 

Day 46...The day the awkwardness wouldn't end

If you follow my on Facebook you know that Friday was the most awkward day of my life. I left a post that I was editing up on my work computer. Boss man read it and left me a nice little note for Friday morning. I said sorry and he laughed and said it was okay. I am assuming he got some the night before because he is generally happier when he is getting laid. But aren’t we all.

I had a date night with Jeffrey on Friday night, don't be jealous I am that cool. We went and watched hockey then made our way over to a pub where I got drunk (obviously, my boss just read one of my blog posts, I needed to drink). My life choices when I drink are always shocking and of course this night was no exception. I came out of the bathroom and saw Skipper. Talk about awkward encounters, he looked in worse shape than I did. I swear to Jeus, I can't make this shit up. Why sweet, two pound, baby Jesus

Normal people would go and say hi, normal people would find a way to delude the awkwardness from the fact he hadn’t text me back, normal people wouldn’t care. I am not a normal person so I didn’t say any thing and walked right past him and went and sat back down with Jeffrey. Jeffrey always one for charm took one look at him and went

“Justine you are trying to hard and that guy is definitely not worth the effort. You can do so much better than that.”  

Jeffrey has a way with words and I have a way of disregarding the right choice. The thing is he is probably right. I know I could do better but this Skipper character has some thing about him that I like. Maybe it’s the way he makes me laugh, maybe it’s his penis, maybe it’s a whole lot of different things.

During a smoke break, one of Skippers friends (who clearly did not know who I was or the fact that I slept with Skipper) came to tell me how beautiful I was (which is always nice) and after a short conversation asked me to come meet his friends. I said no, which apparently didn’t mean any thing to said friend because he picked me up and brought me over there anyways. Why do things like this happen to me!? Did I do something in a past life to make sure I get put into the most awkward situations ever.

He introduced me to all 5 of his friends including Skipper and I just said

“ya we’ve met”

Great choice of words right? I thought so, and then I ignored Skipper and went back to hearing how pretty I was from his friend. This was a lot better then being pleasantly ignored by Skipper.

Well after 4 more drinks and decided to confront Skipper, which is always a good choice.

He stumbled out words about being drunk and that’s why he didn’t text me back (this is when you know you've picked a winner FYI), some thing about day drinking and I made it awkward by saying he could make it up to me by taking me for breakfast tomorrow. He said he would text me, I said ya right…that isn’t happening. Legit. Those words came out of my mouth. If he didn’t like me before he sure as fuck doesn’t like me now.  

He did text me the next day...saying he was to hung over to do any thing...so I was technically right. But at least he texted me?  Which leads me to my next post...

Day 38 to 41: Hoe into a House wife

I could tell you how my weekend involved being wrapped in Saran Wrap, being kicked off a soccer team (I quit but pretty much), getting raped in the ass by Mr.Lube (the car place, actually, this is not a metaphor I don’t do butt sex), how I cancelled the date on Sunday and the one for the concert on Tuesday with Internet guy  because he was starting to send relationship signals (if any one asks, I am on an ice fishing trip with my dad) or the wedding I attended where the bride held the knife to cut the cake just a little to tight, but instead I am going to talk to you about how for once God decided not to bitch slap me.

Saturday night I was over at Mikes house, hanging out watching a movie and decided I was going to go out and visit Dana at the self esteem boosting pub where she now works. I drove in the worlds worst driving condition, I am fairly certain I drove on the wrong side of the road for the majority of the drive, that was my dedication to alcohol that night, so you know I was desperate. Every one I called that night said the roads were too bad to go out and they were going to stay home, and by every one I mean I called my sister and I couldn’t convince Mike to come with me. But I was already at the pub so I went in by myself, now terrified from the drive into town, pissed at my sister and her lack of support and God damn I just saw a crazy lady get married before me. I needed a drink. A big one. I walk in and see some thing that only meant my night was going to end in orgasms. Is it a plane? A bird?  Free dildos? SSM? No. It was my last racquetball partner before I started dating Kermit. It was like God looked down on me for a minute and said 

“your life has been a pile of shit lately, here is a penis on a silver platter, have fun, I am sorry.”

Oh my god. It was like every thing was working out in my favor, he was with a group of guys, he asked me to come sit with them, I said not right now, but maybe later, because I really did just want to drink my drink in silence and I had to come up with a game plan to make sure the night would go in my favor. I could see him looking at me, then talk to his buddies and it was apparent they were talking about me, that’s when one guy turned around and said “hey, you know Becca right?” I knew right away who this guy was, Becca’s boyfriend. Becca is my amazing friend from college, we had both recently gone through a break up, and both enjoyed week day drinking and hated our program. We were a match made in alcoholic anonymous heaven.

 Becca was on her way to meet up with them for a drink.  So I called her and asked her how she knew Skipper (obviously his new nickname), apparently she’s known him for a while and just never remembered that they actually met several years earlier when we were first having sex and I had thrown a lingerie party and I had also talked about him multiple times while Becca and I were study partners in college.

This night was sealed with a pretty little bow, the pearly gates to orgasm land where open; angels where singing and at this point I was guaranteed to have sex. I could sit back and enjoy the rest of the night, drinking, smoking and laughing with Becca.

I ran into some people who used to work with Kermit, gossiped about Kermit and how useless he is, talked about my boobs and how big they are and how they got me a job. All in all it was glorious. Then shock settled in. I haven’t had sex since SSM, I had no plans of having sex any time in the near future, which meant taking care of my lady parts have been the last thing on my mind. I mean, it’s not a jungle, but it’s definitely not a desert or even a nicely trimmed garden. I can’t make my first encounter in three years with my racquetball partner and not be prepped and prepared.  In the bathroom I decided to ask Becca how bad it really was, she said it wasn’t THAT bad, I also flashed Dana at the bar…she also agreed it wasn’t THAT bad. When your friends say that they are lying to you, you should pick up your dignity and say God you are a spiteful ass and call it a night. Unless you are me, and in that case, you can talk yourself into almost any bad decision.

So unfortunately with enough booze you can talk to me into any thing and once he talked me into getting into the cab I was done for. Oh well, it was happening. New racquets ball partner locked and sealed. I woke up the next morning, slightly hung over and realizing I was now in a house where three guys live, made evident by the fact that I had to go to two different bathrooms to find toilet paper, there was a dirty dish beside the bed and when I went and got water in the morning, there was more beer than food. Well at least I know this one doesn’t have a girlfriend. But here is the thing; I am going to over share with you, so unless you want to know deep and very intimate details about my sex life I would just skip down to the next paragraph. * SKIP NOW* I squirt. Well when the sex is good. And the sex with him is very good, so his bed was wet and the basement floor, and maybe a few other places.

*CONTINUE TO READ* So in the morning he stated “you know next time you come over I am going to make you wash my sheets after.” Partner locked and secured, playing doubles for at least the next little while. This man is perfect, in no way shape or form does he give me the vibe that he wants a relationship and the sex is good. I have landed the perfect racquet ball partner. I am high fiving myself at this point.

But after I showered in the morning (in a bathroom that only had shampoo, definitely no girlfriend) I did some thing bad. I couldn’t help it. I guess the saying “you can’t turn a hoe into a house wife” isn’t true; this hoe did his laundry while I waited for him to get ready to drive me home, I washed his sheets, towels and then did dishes. I couldn’t help it. I had to. My anxiety kicked in and there wasn’t any stopping it. I tried to use self control but I have zero.

Then he drove me home and he turned on his truck ( which he needs a blow box to do) and classical music came on. Seriously. I can’t make this shit up. It apparently relaxes him. Where do I find these guys? He then told me what symphony it was from, I don’t know maybe he thinks this will impress girls, I would have been impressed if it was Ace of Base, not Bach’s fifth symphony. Then the hilarity continued, I had remembered that he said last time we ran into each other he text me after ( I ran into him when I was still with Kermit), but he had my old number so I never got it and some guy got pissed, he was embarrassed so this is what I texted him when he texted me after he dropped me off.

I really think I am hilarious. 

Day 28: Letting go

Day 28:

I obviously skipped a few days, I mean, I have been busy. Getting over Kermit. And guess what! I think I am, I mean I still love him, but I don’t want him to get hit by a car, or contract herpes. I want to be friends and wish him the best on his way. I still have this feeling some times that I lost. I couldn’t make him love me the way I needed. I couldn’t make him fight for me, I couldn’t make him want to work things out. It’s mostly a feeling of not being good enough but I try to remind myself that it was him who wasn’t what I needed and I was good enough. That works some times.

But I don’t want to be with him any more. I miss him, but mostly because we were best friends, and I miss that friendship. But I don’t miss being in a relationship with him. I don’t know when or how this happened. Maybe New Years? I woke up and was ready to let go. To say that we couldn’t work things out and I will be the one to let go so that we both can move on.  

 But, I also have these feeling of impending doom. Do you know how many good, potential, guys I’ve met since being single? None. Not a damn one.

Your ex-girlfriend, who just wants you to be happy

Day Ten: break up sex is the best

There is some thing about break up sex that makes sex even better. I broke every rule last night. I was out with my friend Matt who is also going through a break up and he said something to me that made my heart melt, he said that there isn’t a future he pictured that didn’t involve his ex girlfriend, he knows he didn’t treat her like she deserved and he wanted to fix it, he wanted to love her. I thought about what he said, when I picture my future there isn’t one where I can’t see him, so I went over to where we used to live. I could tell he was nervous, maybe because he thought I was there to slash his tires or put cereal in his bed again, but he was nervous and well one thing lead to another and break up sex happened. I know the book would come and hit me on the head because I am taking so many steps backwards but the thing is I just want him. Part of me thinks some times you have to lay every thing on the line so you don’t look back and say “if I only would…” I mean not always because there are relationships that are better to walk away from but I couldn’t walk away from him knowing that I love him as much as I do. So I left my dignity and self respect at the bar and drove my ass to his house.

Seeing him made my heart melt.  I felt happy, it might have just been the hormones or amazing sex but lying in his arms after was the happiest I’ve felt in so long. I didn’t think about him lying to me or if he loved me, I didn’t think about any thing except for us lying together and how happy it made me and how happy he looked and how he is what I want more then anything. But then reality sunk in, it is now more complicated then before. He talked about how much I love him and how he screwed every thing up, which he did, but there are two people in a relationship and I made mistakes too, but his showed me so much disrespect and pain and I gave him a chance to fix it and he didn’t care until it was to late.

So now I am left wondering do I give him anther chance to fix it? Has he learned from his mistakes? Is it stupid to think people have changed? My therapist says I need to let go of the should of, could of, what ifs and just let it be and it will work itself out and I will be okay. To my therapist I said make my decisions for me because this is obviously to hard for me and Taylor Swift has yet to right a song about this so I don’t know what to do!

I seriously blame societies up bringing of girls. Women are lead to believe they will find this great love, some thing tragic will happen, the man will realize what he lost and come after the women and they will live happily ever after. Seriously think about it, Beauty and the Beast (that crazy beast locked away her father, pretty ruthless), The Notebook (blow out of a fight, not talking for years, her showing up at his house before her own wedding), A Walk to Remember (he was a douche who almost killed some one, she changed him and he fell in love with her), Ten Things I Hate About You (the only thing I remember about this movie is the line “I hate your stupid combat boots” but I think it had some thing to do with love and a man fucking up), all these stories in some form or another have a man breaking the heart of a women and him doing some thing grand to get her back, to let her know he loves her and that he is sorry. All these tragic events happen at different points in a love story but they have the common theme that women all forgive and take back the man. Name one story where the women fucks up and the man takes her back? It doesn’t happen, not in real life and not in love stories. He usually finds some women near the end who was helping him to get over the break up. And that my lady friends is why women suck at break ups. We hold onto the idea that there will be some grand gesture of love and we take them back to have our happily ever after. Men take note that if you want a women back you need a huge plan to show your love and how much you’ve changed or how sorry you are for what ever reason she left your sorry ass. If you want her don’t sleep with another women, don’t sit around getting drunk, or feeling sorry for yourself, plot a way to get her back. She will probably fall for it,  I did and he didn’t even try that hard.

Last night I kind of got my grand gesture, I mean there wasn’t flowers, or a ring, or a outpouring of love poems and he certainly didn’t build my dream house like Noah did in the Notebook but this is real life and I should probably lower my expectations. He cried though, I could tell he knew how badly he fucked up, I could tell he missed me, I could see that he loves me in his eyes, at least I think I could, that or I was so blinded for my want to see those things that I made them up in my head and he just wanted the fuck and then for me to leave. I mean, for him, who has been about as romantic as a Homer Simpson for the last six months it was a big deal for him to make me feel that loved, for him to be honest with his feelings. It meant a lot to me. He means a lot to me.

I am giving him space, I am going to continue to work on myself and we still aren’t together. I need him to know if he can be what I need and what I need is some one who supports me, understands me, listens to me, respects me and above all else loves me beyond compare. We are now stuck in this limbo and I told him to call me when he figures out if he can be those things…an hour an a half later he texted me about your fish… “Sir. Winston the second died” so I am going to guess that means that’s another metaphor for our relationship, or that he was dumb ass and forgot to feed his fish.

I am not holding my breath that I’ll get what I want in the end, which is him and for us to both want to fix this relationship, not just me. But I promised myself I wouldn’t sit around and wait for him. I will continue to move on with my life  and work on myself and if he wants me he going to have to chance me down, prove his love and put some god damn effort into this relationship and show me what he wants. So that’s where I am at today. If you are taking break up advice from me, now would be a good time to stop

Love your ex girlfriend who broke every rule in this dam book last night

The taste of sweet revenge

There is nothing better then logging onto Facebook and noticing some one has gotten fat from high school. Don’t lie; it’s a great a feeling when some one who made your life hell is now a heifer. I know that makes me a bad person for saying it out loud and the karma Gods are going to hate me but today I simply do not care.

I have this asshole of an ex boyfriend who I dated for three years, we were both young and dumb and the break up was not a friendly one. I saw him out at the bar shortly after the break up and decided to tackle him for talking to another girl. That was my crazy moment in the break up. I know it was crazy but dam did it feel good. After that we “hung out” a few more times, which really means casual sex that ended in my crying after. But these hang out sessions happened pretty frequently, including one weekend he took me on a romantic trip away. I really thought that we were working our way to getting back together after that weekend and I was in sheer bliss when I went back to school until Monday. Until my friend Sheena texted me that she noticed on Facebook he changed his relationship status to in a relationship, with a girl I worked with. This floozy of a woman also happened to be dating his best friend of like 10 years; yes she cheated on this amazing boyfriend, who was extremely good looking, going to the top university in Canada and has the world in the palm of his hands. She traded that for my loser of a boyfriend who worked in a restaurant, didn’t have any plans for a future and smoked weed most nights of the week, why she thought that was a good trade is beyond me. But he was still mine, or was working his way back to being mine and I was devastated to say the least. I remember sitting in the back of that class trying so hard not to cry, remember the events of the weekend and how I could miss some thing as huge as him having feelings for another women. I replayed the events of the weekend for the whole fifty minute class, ran out of that class room and cried and ate a bucket of ice cream. I eventually put down the ice cream, bucked up because my momma didn’t raise no fool, and she defiantly didn’t raise a women who would wallow in self pity over a douche bag of a guy.  I realized that my life was probably going to be better without him and moved on. But not before I text him and told him what a complete asshole he was, because my momma also didn’t raise no push over. That didn’t go over well and he said some of the meanest things to me a person could say. But that was three years ago and I thank God all the time that she ended up with him and I didn’t go back to him.  But I still have this girl on Facebook, because I am an emotional cutter and that is what an emotional cutter would do. I occasionally creep her Facebook because curiosity gets the best of me and I need to know how their relationship is and that mine is better. I am a competitive, emotional cutter.

Regardless, I really hate this girl and think she is the scum of the earth, and although she has the same facial features as a drag queen, I don’t feel like that is adequate punishment for being the scum of the earth and I want them both to suffer, in a non Albert Hitchock way and in more of a John Tucker Must Die way.

So that brings me to my Friday afternoon work day. I jump on my phone to check good old Facebook and there it is a shinning glimmer of hilarity. Her facebook status is “if any one has seen or heard from Scott please let me know!”

Now I say a glimmer of hilarity because at this point it can go one of two ways, he is seriously injured in a ditch some where or he is pulling the same shit with her he did with me at the end of our relationship. Now I need to know and am in complete panic, so I am checking Facebook every ten minutes I swear. Could the last three years of waiting for her to be publicly embarrassed the same way they embarrassed me finally be here! Then there it was! HAPPY DAY HAPPY DAY LET THE HEAVENS OPEN UP AND SING THE SWEET SONG OF ANGLES! This was better than if Taylor Swift and Miranda Lambert collaborated and made the ultimate break up song. Her Facebook relationship status change was there saying “single” followed by some tragic Facebook status basically stating that he left her and she is heartbroken. Ha! GOOD! Now she just has to go have revenge sex, contract Chlamydia, give it to him and all in life will be fair.

A normal ex girlfriend would chuckle to herself, hope she gets fat and move on with her day and I contemplated that option but I am a competitive, emotional cutter and I wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to rub it in her face. So I did what a normal person wouldn’t do and I liked that Facebook relationship change, felt an overwhelming sense of power. It took three years but it felt like I won the relationship revenge game of life. And that my friends is why I am not a good person.