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.

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.

 

 

Please lady, educate me about everything else I am doing wrong when it comes to dating

While browsing through the internet, reading different dating articles, I stumbled across this little beauty right here. Just take a minute and go ahead and read that, it’s enlightening isn’t it; women everywhere, the reason you are single is because you’ve chosen not to settle for a man, you are 35 and single and have a baby-less womb and it’s all your fault because you didn’t settle with that one boyfriend who really wasn’t that bad, you just needed to overlook some minor personality flaws and you too could have had your happily ever after, you picky, dumb, bitch.

I realize I haven’t read the whole book, and I am reading an article that obviously paraphrases a whole  book, but from this little article I now have a strong desire to go find her, knock her out and then walk away, not read the book.

This women talks about how women feel a sense of entitlement, how we are too picky and we are judgemental. To her I say, hell yes we are!

The first thing she talks about is women feeling entitled, that we feel like we are awesome, and you know what we should feel like we are awesome! It has taken years for me to get to the point where I say, “You know what, I am awesome, and if you can’t see that than fuck you!” She is saying that because we are told by friends that we deserve better, and any guy would be lucky to have us, we are entitled and we need to compromise and let go of that sense of entitlement if we have any hopes of finding love, and with that sense of entitlement comes this women who is judgemental and picky, if we could just not judge so quickly we might grow to love that man, with a little compromise and less judgement, we too can have our happy ending.

As little girls we are told boys that pick on us, make fun of us, and basically bully us, actually really like us. So boys who cut down our self esteem actually like us? I don’t know how that message started to little girls but it absolutely disgusts me, how is it okay to say to little girls if he hurts your feelings and your self esteem slowly starts to dwindle, he likes you, so don’t be sad that he called you an ugly poo poo head, he likes you. NO! NO! NO! That boy that called you an ugly poo poo head needs his ass kicked and little seven year old girl please don’t stand in the corner and cry, you walk up to him and say “I AM AWESOME! I AM NOT AN UGLY POO POO HEAD AND YOUR OPINION DOESN’T MATTER TO ME!” Then you turn on your little Velcro shoes and you walk away, because you deserve someone who calls you a beautiful girl, not an ugly poo poo head. You, little girl, be picky, find some one who makes you feel special from the moment he meets you, who you feel a connection with, do not settle for a guy who cuts you down, who makes you feel bad, who you don't really like.

As teenage girls we are in a constant battle with ourselves to come into our own, we feel awkward, we are being judged constantly and have to mindset we need to be a certain way to be in with the popular girls, or be pretty, or have guys like us. We are cut down and judge by stupid hockey jocks, the high school quarter back and basically everyone else who doesn’t think you are pretty or special because you are not a size 2; we are cut down by our first boyfriend because we won’t sleep with them, we are cut down by teachers for not getting good grades, we spend years being cut down. Teenage girls are in a constant inner struggle because their self esteem  is constantly being beaten down by their peers, by themselves, and everything else in the whole damn world. But somehow we make it out of high school and we eventually come into our own and once that happens we start to develop some sort of self esteem. We stop spending so much time looking at our flaws and spend some time seeing the good amazing qualities in ourselves and now you want me to sit down and think about everything someone might not like about me? No, I refuse. I will embrace my quirky habits, I will embrace my never ending ability to over analyze every situation, I will embrace the need to constantly have a plan,  I will embrace that sometimes I like to watch Disney movies and sing along, and if someone finds that annoying then he can just mosey on, he doesn’t have to put up with my habits because he loves me, he will love me because of those habits and you know what if I don’t find some mans quirky habits enduring then I shouldn’t be with him, there isn’t room for compromise when it comes to that, because when I haven’t slept in days because I have a sick baby and work full time, you better be damn sure I secretly love how he drives painful slow, or his stories take forever to spit out, because if I don’t, I may just kill him over it. My mother told me once with Kermit, the things that slightly annoying you now, will drive you crazy 20 years from now. So I will judge, I will be picky, and you know what I will appreciate and love  the women I have become and am becoming, because now that I FINALLY have self esteem, now that I am finally proud of who I am, now that can finally see that yes, I have flaws, but I am still awesome, I am entitled, to picky and too judgemental. Fuck her; you can’t take away something that has taken years to build, you can’t tell me that I need to settle and be less picky, because there may not be anything else better out there.  

She then moves on to talk about self love, you know loving yourself enough to put yourself first, to be happy with yourself and not need to be in a relationship to be happy, or loving yourself enough to recognize when a relationship isn’t working and it’s just best to walk away. Samantha says, “I’m going to say the one thing you aren’t supposed to say. I love you...but I love me more. I’ve been in a relationship with myself for 49 years and that’s the one I need to work on.” What the author of the book says is that if you don’t want to end up alone, Samantha’s message is dangerous, proceed with caution, because if you leave that guy that you just don’t love any more, you may regret it, so don’t leave, you stay, and you love him more than you love yourself. You stay in that relationship because the fear of not finding some one who makes you feel on top of the world is greater than any thing else

If you guys could see me right now, I am turning red from anger, I am slamming my keyboard keys because of the message this lady is sending to women, girls, and teenagers everywhere. We are given one life that is it, why would you waste your time being unhappy in a relationship, of any kind? Why would the fear of being alone be that colossal that we stay in a relationship we aren’t happy in! Why would we stop improving ourselves, why would we stop growing to be a better person because we may have to do that journey alone?  

The message this lady is sending absolutely makes me furious, while there are points that I’m sure are valid, the context in which she is delivering them, and her general message that we need someone to be happy, and it’s our fault if we don’t, and here’s a list of the reasons why, is absolutely wrong. I don’t need a list of things I am doing wrong on top of the list of things I am doing wrong in my head, I don’t need to be told that I shouldn’t love myself and I need to settle if I want to be in a relationship, that I need to not judge a man and be too picky because he may eventually bring me some kind of happiness or better yet, he may be the only one to love those qualities that make you, you! Then once you are in that relationship don’t leave if you aren’t happy, don't you even think about putting your happiness first, because you may regret it, because he may just be the last one to want you, you may not find some one else! And that would just be the end of the world. I don’t feel like I need to compromise just because I want a man to be there for me, I don’t need to compromise to get a fairy tale, I don’t want just any man, I want the right one, and compromising won’t get me that.

So to her I say you are wrong, simple as that. Women you be picky, you find a man that you love unconditionally, that makes you happy every day not just happy eventually, that makes you feel on top of the world, and if there comes a time when you aren’t happy and you’ve tried to fix it, it’s okay to love yourself enough to leave, to try again with some one knew or don't try again, and just love yourself. That being alone, out of a relationship, doesn’t mean you are alone, it means that you are content enough with yourself and strong enough to know that just because you don’t have a relationship doesn’t mean you are alone. To the women who read this article and sat back and evaluate their flaws, I am telling you to stop, embrace the things that make you unique, we’ve spent most of our lives cutting ourselves down or getting cut down, don’t, just stop, you are amazing, and beautiful, you do not need some dumb women telling you that it’s your fault you’re alone and maybe you need to sit back and evaluate everything a man may find annoying. You are perfect the way you are and you will find someone who loves those qualities that made it onto your list.

Not all relationships are never ending, some are short stories, some are long novels, but in the end you need to love yourself enough to never stop growing, to never settling, too never stop loving yourself , even if you fear being alone, because the type of women who does all the things she says will be alone, because she doesn’t love herself.

If we lived in a perfect world

Do you know what I want? To be naturally skinny, to be able to eat all the damn cupcakes and ice cream and carbs in the whole world and not have it all go to my huge ass. I’d like to sit down and eat pasta and not feel my ass grow an inch with every bite. I’d like to be able to eat a cup cake and not know that it will take an hour of sweaty intense cardio at the gym. I’d like to be able to drink beer and not worry that it’s going to make my stomach stick out over my pants. I’d like to go home and watch Sons of Anarchy and sit on the couch, instead I am dragging my ass to the gym. Normally I would have energy to go but a tragedy has take place today, while in a rush to not be late for work because boss man called me this morning saying I had to open the shop because his mom is sick I left my house in a hurry, which in turn meant I left my wallet, which means, I don’t have any Red Bull, which means I need a nap. Especially because I did not get one nap this weekend, NOT A SINGLE NAP WAS TO BE HAD ALL WEEKEND! What a tragedy.

Bitches be cray

I had a four hour Skype date with Abby on Tuesday night, she is obsessing over a man who is just as confusing as Melvin, so needless to say we spent a good four hours trying to decode each other love interest. There may have been some other things brought up, like wine and chocolate but for the most part, it was four hours of obsessing over every single detail of our love interests. What this text message meant, what he meant when he did this or that, and why oh why do we allow ourselves to become so wrapped up in one person. I know it’s because of girl logic, but I left the conversation with one thing in mind, how can two fairly smart and educated women spend four fucking hours talking about guys, letting them control most of our though process throughout the day and all of our thought process at night. How is that normal? How is that healthy? How can we not want to talk about anything else? Seriously, it makes my day when I see a window to talk about Melvin, when I am able to spill the whole situation onto someone in hopes that maybe they have more of an idea what is going on. It took everything I had to not unleash the whole story on a poor cashier at the grocery store when she asked me how I was. In my head I wanted to say,

How am I?! OBVIOUSLY I am not okay, obviously I am confused about this guy and I just don’t know why he hasn’t texted me today because I really want to text him but I deleted his number because I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me, but I like him, but he might like me, but he used this emoticon so I’m not really sure what that means, do you think that emoticon means he doesn’t like me or he does? What about when he said this...that has to mean he wants to hang out with me right?!”

I  didn’t say that, I held it in, I wanted too, she was the one who asked how my day was...maybe she shouldn’t do that if she doesn’t want to know how my day is actually going. How ‘bout them apples grocery store lady!

I hope someone else has had a moment like that, where you just want to unleash on a random person. I know Abby isn’t any better than me though, she is obsessing just as much as I am, maybe even worse because at least I get drunk and spill my guts, yay me for having zero filter when I drink, Abby  keeps it in. But at one point in our conversation she said

“ya, but he used a period, he NEVER uses periods so now I just don’t even know what to say back!”

I envy anyone who didn’t have the dating pressures that text messages puts on us. When things are done over face to face contact you have the ability to forget things, to not go back and re-read conversations and you know the tone of the voice and not have to worry about a period. A fucking period. Who obsesses over that?  Women do.

Men don’t sit around talking with their friends asking if it’s okay to text them, analyzing what you should say, writing a text, deleting it, re-writing it and then pressing send and going into full on panic because it’s been 30 seconds and he hasn’t responded, heaven help you if an hour or two goes by and he hasn’t responded, at that point you are sitting on your cold bathroom floor, hyperventilating, gripping your phone for dear life, rocking back and forth, while singing the sun will come out tomorrow. Men send a text and get on with their lives, they don’t write or re-write and they definitely don’t have panic attacks if they don’t get a text back.

They probably don’t feel the same kind of excitement that we do when we receive a text. Oh my poor family and friends, Melvin text me last night, first, without me texting him, I was almost asleep in my bed at 9:30 at night when the ding went off, I check my phone, success! I jump out of bed and start doing the fucking Macarena, which would be normal behaviour for me usually, but I was in underwear and a tank top, probably not a sight my 15 year old brothers friends who were sleeping over wanted to see. Didn’t stop me, I was jumping around and singing and then realized I had to reply, so I wrote and re-wrote then wrote again, I settled with “hey I’m good how are you.” I thought that was a good response, right? Trust me the first drafts where a little rough, at first I thought of writing “I’m just swell” then I was going to say “good, you?” but I settled with “hey I’m good how are you.”

Men don’t do these kinds of things, the most would be a smile at their phone, women go bat shit cray. Also men don’t sit around analyzing if they slept with you too soon, if you should have done something different, worn a different top, if you have to much cleavage or not enough, men don’t try on 50 outfits for a date (which is just crazy). Men will pick a pair of pants off the floor and a shirt and go, they will send the first text they write and they won’t give it another thought, they won’t spend hours going over every detail of the time you’ve spent together, they just act how they want. It’s infuriating knowing that we spend so much time worrying and obsessing and analyzing and they don’t have to feel that panic we do. The only time they feel panic is when they think they are about to get some and it’s still on the fence because she could put her pants back on and go home or she could fully take them off. That’s the panic we women have to deal with all the time when we have these God awful feelings for a person.

Death by midget

Dear readers,

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

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

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

One more just for fun? Oh okay!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you do dis for your boyfriend”

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

“your boyfriend love you more if you do this”

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

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

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

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

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

“I do you favor…your boyfriend like”

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

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

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

Day nine: sneaper with a great personality

You know what I find funny, the outpouring of messages and texts one gets when switching their Facebook status to single. Seriously, people you haven’t talked to in years all of a sudden want to know what’s new and exciting and are concerned with what you are doing on the weekend? Well people, I am not looking to get my sneaper touched if that’s what you are asking. I’d like to think that I am that important and they are talking to me for my charm but sadly I think it’s my sneaper that is important and charming. Dam you sneaper why are you more interesting then my personality.

But really, there are people messaging me I haven’t seen or talked to since I was 18 and at the time I talked to them because I knew it would piss my then boyfriend off. What I find funny as much as my sneaper has not been touched by a penis in … a long time…none of these men are even remotely close to being the right decision. Sure a lot of them are nice guys, cool to be friends with,  maybe one if I had the right amount of alcohol and another if I wanted to hurt some one but I am not drinking and I am working on forgiving people and not having revenge sex. I mean at this point I don’t even think hot gym guy, who is now going to be known as banana man, would have a shot because I am 99.9% sure I’d start crying in the middle of foreplay and that would just be awkward for every one. Not that that has happened before because I always make great life choices.

Basically I find it hilarious but well I’d rather text them then the boyfriend, who I will from here on out call Kermit. I’d like the thank my mom for that nickname because that’s what she called him as I cried last night. I have the best mom.

Women's right? Ya right.

You know what sucks? Being punished for not wanting to have kids. Ya, I’m talking about the boyfriend or what ever he is at this point in time. I blame all these people pushing kids out at 23. I am 20 fucking 3, I am not a spring chicken but my biological clock isn’t even close to being up.

I have to decide if I want kids now and how many kids I want. And heaven forbid if I say the wrong number. It’s like multiple choice roulette. There isn’t even a ring on my finger but I need to decide if I see kids in my future or not and if I say that I don’t want kids then that’s  it? Goodbye relationship.  I am twenty three! How am I supposed to know, I have nothing figured out! I don’t even know what I am going to make for supper tonight but I need to decide if kids are a good idea?

There are things I know I want to do, like go back to school, having a successful business, back pack around Europe. Those are things I know for sure I want, kids not so sure.

You know what else sucks?  The idea of women can have it all. A great career, a family, you can get every thing you want! That’s a lie. One area always suffers. You pick your children and your career will never be the same because there are PTA meetings, soccer try outs, and a family to clean and cook after. You pick your career and you miss out on the first step, swimming lessons, teaching them to ride a bike. And if you try to do both your marriage suffers. That is what the divorce rate is so high. Women are made to believe they have to have it all; you have to have the perfect family with a perfect marriage and the perfect job. It’s unrealistic. You can’t just pick one and be really good at one thing; you have to cook, clean, play taxi, work full time, and pack lunches and be a sex goddess. I am not even doing those things and I am tried. And you notice what there isn’t ever time for? You. Men have lots of time for hobbies, friends, beer and their work but between lunches and baths when do you get time for yourself? You don't. Maybe a spa day once a year on mothers day. Other then that you are a work horse that has to look sexy doing it. 

You know what else sucks? When another woman comes in and gives your boyfriend some thing that you aren't sure you are ready for and he confides in her. She has her kid that your boyfriend loves and you have nothing. You are left with Taylor Swift and my good friends Ben and Jerry’s because you can’t do any thing. You have to sit back and watch because you can’t be the crazy girlfriend but if you don’t step in you see every thing slipping out of your hands. It makes me sick to my stomach. Especially when your boyfriend is a giant bag of douche about it but you love him so much you stay. Emotional abuse and you can’t leave. But you can't say that to him because then he will leave because "he doesn't want to hurt you." You can't say how you really feel so you have to slap on this big fake smile and pretend to be o.k with it. You’ve planned a whole life with some one, sacrificed every thing to make them happy, put your dreams on hold for theirs and they just stop caring about you. That’s what sucks the most. Knowing you've tried so hard for it to be taken away and on top of that he cuts you down to some one who is suppose to be your friend and she doesn't even stand up for you.

So that is what sucks. Just in case you are wondering  the only thing that would make me happy right now is if some one got me on Ellen or bought me Taylor Swifts CD and cried with me.

My Halloween Rant! It's Expensive...

So it’s Halloween this week. Yes, Halloween is a week long, starting a week before October 31. I decided this because then, at least for a week, I don’t feel bad about eating chocolate. This isn’t a normal rant saying that it’s Halloween so I can dress like a skank if I want to or the opposite saying that you hate Halloween because girls dress like skanks.

Here is my rant. Dressing up for Halloween is fucking expensive. Especially for how little clothes I will be putting on and its stressful. I swear unless you are a size two and can just throw on a bra and some undies and maybe some wings and go as a Victoria Secret model Halloween is hard. I really wanted to go as a child from Toddlers and Tiaras becuase that show kicks ass and I think its hilarious but no one was digging my idea and I love group costumes so I went with the idea of burlesque dancers because it was as close to a child floozy as I was going to get this year and I thought it would be easy. Wrong. Very very wrong.

So I had to youtube how to make this stupid fucking costume and after 40 minutes of research I decided to just purchase a corset from some where but they are like 50 dollars at Le Skank and I am cheap and not forking that over for a corset because the boyfriend just gets confused by them and grunts like a cave man trying to figure out how to make a fire for the first time. So my search continued online. Most people LOVE online shopping personally I hate it. I am a firm believe of trying clothes on plus the clothes always look better on the silicone women. Dam you and your money to get fake tits. So I find one online and spend the next two weeks panicked because I am terrified it won’t get here in time.

I finally get this costume last Friday and the sent me the wrong one and it is snug and I can’t breath in it and I am very found of breathing and the skirt oh God, don’t get me started on the skirt of this outfit because it JUST covers my ass which means it isn’t cover my cellulite.

So now I have to come up with a solution to all of these problems, which cost money. Money that I could be spending on some thing else,  like my new master plan to move to Thailand or Mexico!

Regardless I need to fix it so I head to Michaels, which has the most over priced shit! It is just like the dollar store but way more expensive. The other problem with Michaels is I like shiny things and Michaels stocks their shelves with rows upon rows of shiny things. I buy these said shiny things when I clearly do not need them and again could be putting that money to my Thailand/Mexico fund. So I spend 30 dollars at Michaels on

·         Glitter beads

·         Glitter ribbon

·         Diamond sparkle ribbon

30 fucking dollars on glitter things, just shoot me now. I spent 30 dollar on shiny ribbon. You don’t even need to tell me how stupid that is because I no. Oh and I still don’t have a solution to my skirt problem.

I take my skirt to my mom who is convinced she has raised a whore of a daughter because I told her to make it bigger but not to much longer (it is Halloween) and she tells me that my 15 year old brother put it on and it doesn’t cover his ass and she isn’t letting me any where with my sneaper (my moms word for vagina) hanging out. So skirt problem some what solved, I will find out tonight. I may go over to her house to find that she has made me a ghost costume.

Now on to my accessories because I need to get stuff so people don’t look at the cellulite and they look at my boobs or pretty make up instead. So this is what I purchased.

·         Three different sets of fake eye lashes ( again they had glitter on them and I am like a fucking bird)

·         Thigh high stockings which looked terrible

·         Another set of thigh stockings which looked just as terrible

·         A huge bottle of glitter (I told you.)

·         Head bands

·         Feathers

I have now spent a total of 60 dollars on shit. And if this skirt doesn’t turn out right by tonight I am going to have to make a mad dash around to all the dollar stores collecting feather boas to make a skirt I saw on youtube.

It’s a lot of fucking work for one costume. Not to mention the 80 dollars for a ticket to a party, the 60 I will spend on hotels and the 40 dollars in booze and cabs.

Next year I dumping glitter over my body (I’ll put underwear on don’t worry) sitting my ass on the couch and getting my drunk on because that is way cheaper and will probably be as much fun. 

p.s I will keep you all updated on how the skirt turns out because I know you are all dying to know what happens