I'm failing at this whole contributing member to society thing...yet again

In less than a month I will 24 years old, which is only two years away from my scary age of 26, 26 absolutely terrifies me, I don’t know why but on my 26^th birthday you will find me curled up in the fetal position with wine, crying, I can almost guarantee it. So when you are almost 24 and you spend your Friday night, in bed, living in your parents basement, listening to Bon Iver instead of getting up and going on a date you start to really think to yourself “what am I doing with my life.” When you spend your Saturday night at a nightclub where the average age of every one in attendance is 17, girls scream “OH MY GAAWWDD I LOVE THIS SONG!” and “DO YOU LIKE TOTALLY THINK I’LL NEED ID,, you think “wow...this is what I am doing with my life, fuck.” Then when you spend your Sunday night at Melvin’s house drinking beer and hanging out you think “well...can’t get much worse can it?” And that is my weekend. In a nut shell...and then I reached a new low this morning when my gas light came on and I put ten dollars worth of gas in my tank and I paid with Loonies. Not even strippers who get paid in loonies have so little dignity that they pay in Loonies. But I feel zero shame, because you know where my money went? Boonstock tickets and a bridesmaid dress for Jenna’s wedding. Totally worth it. So when you see me pushing my car home because I have ran out of Loonies and can no longer fill my gas tank this week, know that it is totally worth it.

Why I may never grow up to be a contributing member of societty reason # 40

So I have a job interview today, no, I am not becoming a contributing member to society, it’s still an office job, a shitty office job of that I have no doubt, but it’s a higher paying office job, so I’d get paid more to multitask between my shitty office job, day dreaming and writing this blog. It’s almost like I am a paid writer, except my boss doesn’t know he is paying me write blogs some times...my mother would kill me if she read this blog, thank God she hates everything but coupons and is unsupportive.

 

But there is a bigger issue at hand...I just had an epiphany, I will never be a normal, functioning, human being, because I don’t know how to make normal people decisions. This was my thought process this morning when I was getting ready for work:


I can’t wear a skirt to work, boss man will know I have an interview or something, I barely brush my teeth for work let alone show up in anything remotely business professional. Okay, plan, I will wear jeans with a dress top and put on a skirt on my way to said interview. HA! Good problem solving self! I really did feel a little proud of myself for coming up with a solution to said problem.

 

Thought process while driving to work... oh Jesus I forgot to put on underwear this morning! I am in my car already, my underwear is all the way downstairs...maybe I have some in my purse, I usually have underwear in my purse...fuck no underwear in my purse today...damn...I can’t show up to a job interview in a skirt with my sneaper hanging out...well maybe that will help me get the job. No Justine...go get underwear.

 

I run down stairs and my mom yells at me “what the hell you are going to be late for work, why are you back here?”

 

I don’t say anything, I am obviously busy, back off. I run up stairs underwear in hand

 

Is that underwear in your hand? Where did I go wrong with you? Your sisters are normal, what is wrong with you.

 

HA! Mom if you only knew that I seriously debated just not wearing underwear and came all the way back here for it you would actually be proud of me! So  mission accomplished, I have underwear for my skirt. Then I thought about this...I have underwear sitting in my the center console of my car. I plan on changing on my way to said interview, cruise control will obviously help me in this situation.

 

Normal people, with contributing jobs, don’t have underwear in their center console of their car and not realize anything wrong with this until 8 hours later. Normal people would have remembered to put on underwear this morning. I did not.

 

Also secretly when they ask me what my strengths are, because they always, always do in an interview, it is going to take everything in me not to say, problem solving, and multitasking, and when they ask for examples I will refrain myself further from saying “Well sir, I forgot to put on underwear this morning and had a skirt on, so I solved that problem while sitting at a red light and I was able to drive and put said underwear on at the same time. If that isn’t multitasking I really don’t know what is.

 

I feel like that would be an excellent answer, one time in a job interview I told the interviewer that I had experience dealing with difficult people because my mother was going through menopause while three girls lived in the same house and if you can defuse a fight over the bathroom between a women going through hot flashes and a girl getting ready for a date, you could pretty much defuse any situation. I got that job. No word of a lie.

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.

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

If you didn't read part one, you don't really have to, but you can and it's here

Part 2 – The Aussie

The Aussie got back from his little trip Tuesday, I think, he asked me to hang out Wednesday, I declined, because I wanted to watch Sons of Anarchy and dream of marrying Opie and replacing his dead wife (sorry, she dies, it’s so sad, I cried really hard at that part). That’s when the worst thing possible happened on Wednesday night, Netflix wouldn’t work. How am I supposed to pretend to be married to Opie if I can’t see his bad ass ways on the television! Now I am bored, it’s 7 o’clock and I have zero desire to pull out bob and zero desire to go to bed...so I text the Aussie and say I will meet him out for wings, but not before I ask who is there and who is going, I learned my lesson the first time around, he said it was him and two friends, WHO ARE NOT FRIENDS WITH MELVIN, I know this! So I go, I walk in and I see him and ten other people sitting at a table, I walk over and guess who was there...MULAN! JESUS! Damn you Netflix for not working, damn you Justine for not having a hobby, damn you life and my poor decision making skills. WHY DO I NOT HAVE MY OWN T.V SHOW!

The Aussie is tucked away in a corner so I sit on the other side of the table and get death glares from Mulan. It was nice to see that she had her fun bun back in place; I missed her fun bun, it makes me a little happy when she goes back to her jean jacket and fun bun, it brings back such found memories.  The Aussie makes his way over to me and we talk about his trip. The Aussie doesn’t smoke so I say I am going for a smoke to try and get a minute to think about how awkward this is and regroup. He insists on coming with me, but he needs a smoke, which is confusing because he doesn’t smoke. If there are three things you know about me it’s

1.       I make poor decisions when I have to think fast

2.       I don’t like sharing my cigarettes

3.       I am emotionally unstable

But really only number 1 and 2 apply to this situation, well I guess 3 does too, oh fuck it, me being emotionally unstable applies to every situation. So I give him my smoke and we go outside, mid conversation he kisses me. WHAT THE HECK! I didn’t even know what to do, one minute I am talking and the next there is a tongue in my mouth, I’m pretty sure I didn’t kiss him back for the first 15 seconds, I probably just stood there confused with a tongue in my mouth, so weird. And there were people around, I don’t like public displays of affection, to weird, and he was getting all kinds of up in my business, grabbing my butt and I was getting all weird and so I just stopped kissing back and put my cigarette back in my mouth! HA! If there is something in my mouth you can’t get your tongue in there! MUHAHA! QUICK THINKING JUSTINE! SELFHIGH FIVE! The night kind of went like that, and actually the Aussie,he isn’t all that bad, he seems like an okay guy, who just likes to drink, and when he drinks he gets naked, which if you know me, would probably be a disaster when it comes to a relationship, we would never be allowed to go out to parties together.  We would get drunk and naked (in a non sexual way) all over the place and people would think it’s weird that the only two people on the earth who get naked when they drink have found each other. I need someone who will monitor my ability to take off my bra when I drink, not encourage it.

Regardless my emotions are still on a rollercoaster so when I leave I get into my car and just start bawling, no idea why, well I have an idea why, because I think part of me is wanting Melvin to be as enthusiastic c about me as this Aussie guy is. So I cry all the way home, pull myself together and go to bed.

He texts me in the morning and I decide I need to be honest with this guy, the same way I want Melvin to be honest with me, I tell him that I think it will be best if we are just friends, and I mean that, I think he is a good guy, just not really dating material and I can’t see it going anywhere beyond friendship. But while I am happy that I was honest, the sudden panic that I have lost the guy who is my cushion from Melvin rejection is now in the friend zone because I put him there. Which leads to sheer panic that I may have to actually deal with the disappointment I feel from Melvin, which leads to the last part of this story, the person you guys don’t want to hear any more about, Melvin, aren’t you glad I saved him for the last part?

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

I’ve been on a terror this week, not a drinking terror, I wouldn’t complain about that, I am on a “I hate the whole world, die die die” terror. Seriously, my emotions are running ramped this week, I’ve never been so bitchy for so long ever. My ability to hold in sarcastic, mean comments is nonexistent this week, so what does that mean for you? You get to sit tight and listen to my three part story, I am going to break it down by douche bag, I mean man for you and how it all lead to the full mental break down that commenced last night.

Part one – The toothless wonder

If you’ve ever worked with women you know that it sucks, I’ve spent a lot of time working with all women.  At 16 I worked at Aldo, with 12 other girl, at 18 I work at a tanning salon with 16 other girls, I’ve worked in offices with old bitchy secretaries, I’ve worked with young dumb girls, and there is only one thing I can conclude from spending so many years working with women, the only thing worse than working with women is working with males.

You women are probably sitting there going “uh Justine you are an idiot, clearly you have no idea what you are talking about...in any aspect of life.” But I do, at least in this area; clearly I am an idiot when it comes to dating or men still, but work environment in the men vs. women section I know what I am talking about. Men trick you, you think that women are back stabbing and manipulative, she is nothing compared to a man, at least with women you can turn around and be back stabbing and manipulative back, or get drunk and have a heart to heart and be friends, men though...they make your life hell, to your face, and in a way that you can’t even retaliate.

Which brings me to the pot smoking, coke snorting, toothless, 50 year old dead beat that works with me; he is a glorious specimen of trailer trash who has made it his mission to make my life a living hell. It all started last week, when boss man made me go pick him up for work because he was hung over and didn’t show up for work for the fifth time in two weeks, wait I’m sorry, he had food poisoning, my bad, he got it from all the beer he consumed the night before. Nowhere in my job description does it say

-          Pick up drunk loser so he comes to work

-          Make sure drunk loser gets to work

-          Deal with hung over asshole at work

But I did it, because if I don’t do what my boss tells me too he makes sure my life is an even bigger hell.  The toothless wonder was pissed that I showed up at his door step, at 8 in the morning asking why he wasn’t at work and this started the fight between me and the toothless wonder.

It started when he showed up for work on Monday; now generally I do whatever the shop guys ask and it always goes without a thank you, this includes but is not limited to, getting their lunch, ordering high school transcripts, driving them around, picking them up so they can make it to work, answer all their questions (generally after work hours on my time), book their dentist and doctors appointments, basically everything but suck their dicks and wipe their asses. This week though, my level of bitch outweighed my desire to be nice, I came to work, I did my job, and I did not go over and above my job description for these men. So Monday afternoon I was out having my smoke, my one saving grace in the afternoon, the one thing that stops me from murdering most of my co-workers, and the one thing that keeps me sane. I was sitting in a chair smoking, in a room with only one other person, leaving a total of 15, (FIFTEEN, yep that’s a one and then a five) other chairs to sit at, the toothless wonder came in and put his drink, smoke and lighter in front of where I was sitting,

“You’re in my spot”

Are you 10? Really, is there assigned seating and I missed the fucking memo? Did something happen over the weekend that you started signing my paycheques so you think I will do what you tell me to do?

I hold in my anger and nicely say, “Would you like me to move?”

That took a lot for me; I was being nice, when everything in my wanted to punch him in the face and knock out the two fucking teeth he has left.

“Ya, cause I don’t work all day or anything and sorry what do you do?”

I ignore the fact that he just cut me down and said I don’t do anything all day at work, I don’t do the jobs of 5 people every single day plus do all YOUR fucking running around. I don’t make sure you show up to work, I don’t do anything all day but sit around and eat bon bon’s. You are absolutely right. I put out my smoke and remind myself that orange is not a good color on me and I can’t go to jail.

I come to work Tuesday, I am now even more enraged, even bitchier, I don’t know why, I just am, and I can’t even fully blame toothless wonder at this point. I took my lunch later than usual so I thought I could avoid the toothless wonder in the smoke room. I walk into the smoke room, there are now two other people in the room so that means there are still 14 chairs. He walks in, now if I was in a good mood I would have moved, I would have not made it a point to sit in *his*chair on the off chance he came into the room, but I am on a war path and I fight like a women. He again puts all his shit in front of me and goes you are in my spot.

Well thank you captain obvious, your observation has not gone unnoticed, you advance to the next level of retardation! I can’t contain myself; it just came out of my mouth,

“Are you that stupid that you do not see the one, two, three...(I count to fourteen, although I think I lost him at 10) other chairs that you can sit in, is it really that hard to take another two steps to a different chair?”

He sits in another chair, good toothy; you sit there and think about how stupid you are.

Obviously every one can tell I am grumpy at this point, so what happened next was out of my control, Toothy’s best friend says to me “you’re bitchy this week,” yes you dense brown man I am, looks like you are still stupid this week. Then his bff of life goes  “Hey Justine, if you go anywhere this afternoon can you take my car?” A car that doesn’t have registration, a car that is held together with duct tape, a car that is basically a death wish waiting to happen, sure, why not! I ask why, which was a mistake. “I have my friend’s dog in the car and so it would be nice if you could take her for a walk.” I hate other people’s dogs, unless they are a puppy, but other people’s dogs are not my cup of tea, a pit pull, so not my cup of tea, so the following conversation happened:

 “Do I look like a dog walker to you? No, deal with the dog yourself”

“Ya but the dog might get thirsty.”

“You didn’t leave the dog water?”

“What was I suppose to do, I didn’t want to leave it at home!”

“So you took it from your apartment, to a small, hot vehicle, with no water, or food. You are an idiot, please for the love of God never reproduce.”

I left work that day, dreading the next day. My ability to deal with stupid people has dwindled down to shocking new level of low. But I did come into work the next day, and it went like this...

The toothless wonder brought me a packing slip, at 8:07, in the morning, no one is happy at 8:07 in the morning; I can guarantee you when Noah constructed the ark he was not happy at 8:07 in the morning, the only time you are happy at 8:07 is Christmas morning and that’s because there is the promise of presents and food, if he would have brought me a present and food I would have been happy, as it turns out it was just a packing slip. He brings me the packing slip I go “thanks” an appropriate response for 8:07 in the fucking morning. He goes...”you could be a little happy, bitch.” Excuse me? Don’t make me get all ghetto on you because I will, I will show you a whole new side of me that I like to call Sheniqua and let me tell you, she is less than lady like and she will get up and kick your white trailer park trash ass. Would you like a hero cookie and a round of applause for doing your job? I don’t get one for mine so shove it. The rest of the day went like that between us, I won’t get into more details, you get at this point that toothy is a giant dick head, so at 4:30 when I went to leave this hell whole I was stopped by another worker and he let me in on a little bit of information...the toothless wonder went and complained to boss man about my poor attitude. My poor attitude? Right, let me just be overjoyed to deal with you every single day of my life for the last year and a half, Monday through to Friday. Let me just be so fucking happy that I get to look at your gummy smile and bad personal hygiene, let me be ecstatic that I get to smell the remains of your beers from last night because you don’t know how to shower, let me be excited to hear how some hottie from the restaurant across the street totally ask you out on a date, even though she is 18 looks like Megan Fox and has huge fake tits, of courses she wants to go out on a date with you, how could she not? You are just so fucking charming. So boss man now thinks I am a giant bitch and is treating me as such, why you ask? Because boss man loves toothy like he is the king of the trailer park, and boss man already hates me. Do you think boss man would ask me why I am a bitch to toothy? Of course not, he is just going to continue to be a dick to me until I snap and he has a reason to let me go.

I walked out of work and lost it, but not in a Sheniqua way, in a Justine is on the brink of a mental down way... so that is aspect numeral uno of the full fledge break down that commenced last night.

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.

Terrible Date Tuesday: Am I drunk yet?

I’m a talkative person, I can generally talk to anyone at any time, I have no problem walking up to strangers and talking to people, so maybe that’s why I hate people who are so quiet. What I hate even more are people who choose to do all their conversing through text message. I get that it is easier to be brave over text, you can hide behind your little cell phone or computer and be a chatty Kathy! It’s for that reason I really strongly feel that when it comes to dating your text conversation should be kept to a minimum. I feel like it makes an awkward situation when you can spend a week getting to know every detail of some ones pathetic life only to sit down and go on a date with them and have these awkward silences filled with not really knowing what to say or do. So how goes your brothers fight against genital heries that you felt the need to tell me about over text message? See...awkward.

Mchottie and I met in Mexico, in a drunken state mind you, but we did spend some time sober together. He was sweet and charming, not really all that funny, but he was alright. We could hold a conversation. I met up with him again when he was in Alberta for lacrosse provincials, then after Kermit and I broke up we began our month long, text and talk every day. I knew everything about him, we would spend hours talking on the phone, I would talk to him about Amy Pohler, life, and he would talk about work, lacrosse, different things he did on the weekend. Our conversations were similar to what couples talk about when they are trying to maintain a long distance relationship. I had low expectations of what would happen once I was there, I knew what I wanted, him to pay for me to go to Toronto (yep...I’m a gold digger, judge all you want), have a weekend with friends and drinks and that would be it, we would slowly taper off.

But once I got there everything just seemed wrong, he was arrogant, unlikeable, and bossy. The weekend as a whole was not good, there were good parts, but I just don’t think you can start the weekend off with is in my top 3 worst dinner dates and come back from that. He picked me up at the airport, we drove back to his house and got ready to go for dinner. I am not a jacket person, people always comment on it, but I just don’t like wearing them, never really have, so while leaving the house he said, go get your jacket. I am a grown ass women, if I wanted a jacket I would have grabbed one, I am not five please don’t talk to me like I am a child. I say I will be fine, he tells me he won’t leave until I grab one. OKAY DAD! I grab my jacket, we leave. He parks a million miles away, I guess it is Toronto, and we walk to the restaurant. I make a note that it’s colder in Toronto than it was in Red Deer. He looks at me and goes...ya...aren’t you glad I made you take your jacket. No I am not ass muncher! I would have been fine and if I was cold I wouldn’t have told you because I am stubborn like that. Automatically I am in a bad mood, but hunger probably had something to do with it, see I’d been flying all day so I had eaten a bagel on my way to the airport at about 7 in the morning. It was now 7 o’clock in Toronto. I am not one of those girls that doesn’t eat on the contraire, I eat, I like to eat, and that’s why I drag my ass to the gym every day, so I was hungry. We arrived at the restaurant at 7 o’clock on a Friday night, unless you are Kim K and Kayne or someone with the equivalent amount of fame you are going to be waiting to get at table. He starts saying how hungry he is, over and over and over again. No shit jack ass, we are both hungry, hence why we are going to eat, stop complaining. He starts commenting on which people are finished eating and not leaving their table in a timely manner, you’re right, they are sitting there enjoying each other’s company, which is exactly the opposite of what I am doing now.

We sit down and thus commences the awkward silence and the awkward, what are you getting...oh I’m not sure what are you getting, conversation. I hate that conversation, it's forced and just makes things feel uncomfortable, because you know if that comes up it usually means you have nothing better to talk about. We decide by the time the waiter comes around for drinks...well he decided and I was forced to make a fast decision because he was hungry. They bring out a starter salad shortly after that. I said starter salad, not some big salad that has all this stuff, it a small salad with lettuce and cucumbers. He finishes his quickly and I continue to eat mine, when I am about half way done MY STARTER SALAD, he looks at me and says...wow you were hungry, you are eating a lot. IT WAS A FUCKING STARTER SALAD!!!!!!! Every childhood memory of being called fat comes flashing through my mind, the time the girl didn’t invite me to her birthday because she didn’t want a fat kid to eat all her birthday cake, the time the boy didn’t like me because I was fat, the soccer coach who told me I’d be an amazing soccer player...if I could only lose 20 pounds, all those repressed memories of being the fat kid came flashing back. Our meal comes...I didn’t eat it. I couldn't I was sent back to that 10 year old version of myself, the one who was to scared to eat in front of people and was so self conscious she would wear a hoody every single day, even if it was 30 degrees out side. But I watched him eat his meal...all of...maybe you are the over eater fatty, and drank three glasses of wine in the mean time. So now I am a drunk, hungry, angry mess. 

Our conversation picked up once I started drinking more and we are talking about the mountains and how I love them, he says he went there once with another friend and two girls but they mostly just stayed in the hotel...yes...my friends...I am no idiot. He brought another girl to the mountains for a weekend and was choosing to talk about it in front of me. I didn't tell you about the time I went to the mountain with my ex boyfriend, I don't want to hear about your romantic weekend away either, but thanks.  He can tell I am about to rip his head off so he says lets change the topic. After I pointed out he brought up his weekend getaway I say I really don’t care because I am sure there were girls before me and there will be girls after me! Just like there were guys before him and there will be guys after. I have no filter; I have no ambition to be nice when I am tried, hungry and apparently an overeater. This starts our first fight. I am mean, I just have the ability to hold it in most of the time but not when I fight because I will cut you down in every way possible. But I have to spend a weekend with this man and I don't want him to go all Ted Bundy on me, so I just get up and leave in the middle of him getting mad at me and come back and say ready to go? I figured at that time it was my best option. We walk back to the car and he asks what I want to do...drink more so I can pretend to like you. Except I can't say that so I suggest we meet up with his friends for a drink because I'm not really tired. So upon arrival I made friends with one of his, and I drink. He was more pleasant, he was funny and actually carried a conversation with me, shocking concept I know. I could tell Mchottie was getting annoyed, I had just spent he last hour pleasantly ignoring him but letting him buy my drinks. Just what I wanted.

He drags me home at 12 and by that point I can almost tolerate him, thanks to my early choice to switch to hard alcohol, some times wine just doesn't cut it. That’s pretty much how my weekend went, get drunk so I like you...ahh I am sober...I HATE YOU MUST GET DRUNK!

That “date” night was definitely the top worst ones of my life, partly because he sucks, but a lot of it was because I knew that I had to spend the rest of the weekend with him so there wasn't an escape...the shocking part was, he said it went perfect...do men lie? Because the common thing about all horrible dates, is that the women is saying oh my god never again! While the man thinks it went awesome...oh dating...how awesome are thee

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.

Conversation between my heart and my head & why I will be single forever

I give up on dating, men, and sex. I am going to become a nun, if they’ll take me...they probably won’t. They’ll take one look at my Facebook page and know that I am on the fast track to hell. Heaven help me if they take a look at the list of men I’ve slept with that sits on Dana’s fridge...they would drown me in holy water and that probably still wouldn’t save me from my sins.

Abby called me last night while I was wallowing in self pity. We talked about how useless we both are when it comes to dating, how pathetic it is to let one guy dictate so many of your feelings and how it is even more pathetic  when you are sure they don’t care. I am talking about Skippers brother...who’ve I’ve named Melvin. I pretty sure he just not that into me...but regardless...well I’ll let you read what went on in my head

Conversation between my head and my heart:

Heart: LETS TEXT MELVIN, I want to hang out with him! He’s probably sitting at home missing how awesome you are...

Head: You are an idiot heart, you are breaking the rules of your FWB (friends with benefits) relationship with Melvin, further more he isn’t at home waiting for you to text him, don’t be stupid. Put down your phone. He doesn’t like us.

Heart:...really...what is one simple text message going to do? It will be fine

Head: WHAT IS IT GOING TO DO!? THROW AWAY OUR DIGNITY! We’ve been over this if he wants to talk to us he would talk to us

Heart: Not true...maybe he just got so excited thinking about us he had a heart attack...you better text him to make sure he’s okay.

Head: Seriously heart...could you be any more stupid

Heart: That is completely logical, we are awesome. It’s a known fact that people have been known to have heart attacks from too much awesomeness exposure.

Head: Well we are awesome...

Heart: Yes...so just text him something


Head: YA! DO IT WE ARE AWESOME!

*sends text about need to find a midget friend to do funny things with?!?!?!*

Head: We are not awesome...we are idiots. We should have stopped when we still had dignity left.

Heart: ...maybe just sometimes we are awesome?

Head: No...no we aren’t...we are going to die alone with nothing but our tap shoes and once we reach a certain age we won’t be able to tap dance around the house anymore! ALL THE JOY HAS BEEN SUCKED OUT OF OUR LIFE!

Heart: ...ya okay. You’re right. But I think we are awesome brain...you know what would cheer us up?

Head: A bullet to the heart so I don’t get talked into stupid shit?

Heart: NO! We are going to turn on Tommy Tutone listen to that Jenny song and dance...that always makes you feel better

Head: I just don’t know if - *867-5309* YOU ARE RIGHT HEART THIS DOES MAKE ME FEEL BETTER


And I wonder why he doesn’t like me... I’d like to say that I made that up...but that is really how my night went...what can I say something about Tommy just really gets me going.

You are so bluntiful!

He’s back at it again...my favourite person on my Facebook news feed! Remember him? No? Let me refresh your memory...Here!...yaaa just so much class coming from every pore of this man. Good news ladies he still single! The beautiful part is that there are multiple pictures...like enough that we could have a post a week dedicated to this beauty. I don’t even know if this blog could handle that much awesomeness. We can call it you posted WHAT?! on Facebook?!

Either way...without further delay...here he is ladies, get your vibrators ready! Get ready to fall in love and say Channing? Nope never heard of him!

I am going to hell.

 

 

 

What have I done

I died my hair yesterday; it was suppose to be ombre, brown to blonde, I had four pictures and a detailed description for the lady because my normal hair dresser was out of town. The lady doing my hair was rather confused by the whole concept because I had hair extensions. Really she was just baffled by the concept that I needed it go from dark to light to lightest, so the hair extensions where going to have to be colored as well. It took me twenty minutes to explain what I wanted done and finally I just said, look if you don’t think you can do it just tell me now. She said she understood what I wanted and she could do it, so we went ahead. Mistake.  She was also confused that I didn’t want her to cut my hair and kept telling me that because I was taking my hair lighter it was going to break off. Lady you are an idiot do you think I am letting me near my head with a sharp object. Fuck no. Also, my hair didn't break off, fall out or die, shocking. Regardless, I am pretty sure that ombre stands for drunk Mexican because my very expensive hair now looks like a drunk Mexican colored it. I just wanted to be trendy like the Kardashians, I should have just shaved half my head, that would have been a better out come.

There is a reason why I stick to my 14 dollar box hair dye and I don’t care what you bitches say, I get complimented on my hair every time I go out in public...when it’s done. This new$200 hair experience is not good. The longer I look at it the worse it gets. I swear to be a hair dresser you have to be partially retarded, t-minus my usual girl. She is smart and should never take a holiday again and let me make bad choices.

Dream Big

I think I've missed my calling in life. I am pretty sure I would rock at being a phone sex girl. So much so that I even made a list of reasons why I would be so good as a phone sex girl. 

1. I like talking to people
2. I sound hot on the phone
3. I am good at implying sex 
4. I am good at sexting so it only makes sense that this would transfer over to a real life conversation
5. I could do it at home in my sweat pants
6. I can pretend to be wordly (they like that I guess...that's what it said when I looked it up)
7. I can multitask like a boss, meaning I could get so much accomplished in a day 

Seriously. I would rock that job. I am going to have to look into this more. 

Terrible Date Tuesday: The hamburglar

 Welcome to today's episode of terrible date Tuesday:

I’ve been on my far share of bad dates, this time though, it was me who was the terrible date, kind of. I met this guy on-line, aren’t we all shocked? This was a few years ago way before Kermit, back when drinking on weekdays was part of my weekly routine, you know, wake up, shower, poop, school, gym, eat, get drunk. I was really good at it, never really got hung over, was a functioning human being, seriously I could teach the course on drinking in college.

Like I said I met this guy on-line and we both went to the same college so one day we decided that in between classes we would meet up and grab a coffee. He was okay, nothing special, seemed like an okay guy, not really a spark. But he did live in the dorm and was having a huge kegger Friday night. Count me in, you don’t have to ask me twice. So I got 5 of my girlfriends together and made our way over to his kegger Friday night.

Once there he started hitting on my best friend, Ro at the time, meh that’s okay, I was at a kegger and there was millions of guys, you go girlfriend. After several keg stands and rounds of beer pong we made our way down to the country bar but not before I had picked up a stalker from the party. He seemed nice enough but he was not my type, at all, redneck, fat, and I think I remember red hair. Any ways, give me enough keg stands and I will think any one is funny and charming, so with beer goggles on I spent the night two stepping with him. At about 2:30 in the morning we decided we needed to go home because Ro was done dodging the guy I had a brief coffee date with. Red neck man asked for a ride home, fair enough you live close by, sure.

First thing he does is ask to bum a smoke. I am in college people. Money does not flow when you are in college, hence why I am talking to you red neck man, so you can buy me drinks because I am to fucking poor to buy them myself. What ever, I give him a smoke. He then asks to stop at Mcdonalds, again, I am poor, to poor for drunk Mcdonalds, so you know that’s poor, but he offers to pay so I make a pit stop.

Ro and I order are Mcdonalds, buddy orders his and has now “bummed” three smokes off of me. This is turning into my nightmare. We get up to pay and he says “oh fuck…I forgot my wallet at the bar.” Are you kidding me redneck man? Seriously. I hate you. I am driving you home, you’ve smoked my cigarettes and now I am not even getting Mcdonalds from you? I hate you. I spend my last 20 dollars on this Mcdonalds that we ordered and drive him home. Now usually when you go through drive through it goes one of two ways, you wait till you all get back to the house and all eat, or the passenger passes out the food. Simple theory right? He did neither, he just started eating, I could see him munching down in my peripherals. I wasn’t paying attention because I was angry with this man and looking at him repulsed me at this point. So we pull up to his dorm house and I say, pass Ro her Mcchicken. He said…I ate it. Why am I not surprised? Oh ya…you are oozing douche from every single poor. I said ok pass her mine…He said…I ate it. IT WAS A FIVE MINUTE FUCKING DRIVE YOU ATE ALL OF OUR DRUNK MCDONALDS! I snap, and say ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME YOU FAT REDNECK SON OF A BITCH?! He then opens the door, farts, and says “thanks bitch”

 

What happened next is a complete blur. I went crazy. I get out of the car, take off my heels and chase that mother fucker down. Now the best part of this all is I was wearing a very little blue strapless dress. In my chase after him the strapless part had fallen down, so I am running after him, dress around my waste, boobs every where because they are just being held in by a strapless bra, I am bare foot, heels in hand and swearing like I am an angry sailor. Ro was behind me trying to stop me, but there was no stopping, I was on a mission…the mission, kill the fat, redneck man who I hate. He smoked my cigarettes, ate my food and called me a bitch and farted…I was going to hurt this man. So I jumped on his back and started beating him with my very cute black stiletto. Really legs wrapped around his stomach, holding on with one hand and beating him with the other. Naturally he is screaming so now people have gathered, Ro is back by the car laughing hysterically, and then there is me, on the back of this redneck douche bag, beating him like the crazy person I am. A guy finally pulls me off and I get in my car and drive home. Angry, hungry and out of smokes. Oh and broke because I paid for it.

Degrassi...the next generation

I took my niece Bess to the arcade and bowling yesterday, she brought her boyfriend. My niece is 8. Yes, my 8 year old niece has a boyfriend, his name is Jace. Jace used all the tokens he won at the arcade to get Bess a ring; a big, plastic, shiny ring. They hold hands and it’s all so cute…until I realize that

a)       I couldn’t get Kermit to put a ring on it, I will probably never get a ring, and I will sing Single Ladies all the way to the alter of my best friends weddings

b)       I am single…with no prospects of that changing, which is fine, because I enjoy being single. But any current prospects would just end in me settling again. Except for one guy, maybe. A guy not even you, my readers, know about.

c)       Although I happily content being single my current love life is like a whole season of an after school special of Degrassi.

So while Bess basks in her first love I am reminded that my relationships have all failed and it all seems in the tragic way that I came up short, I was just not what they wanted. I am not concerned with my failed relationships, I’ve become a better person because of them, I am happy being single and taking time for me but it doesn’t change the fact that I currently have a fucking crush on a guy I haven’t even had the nerve to write about. I have a middle school, Justin Bieber style, ask my parents if I can go out after dark, crush…and it needs to go away now.

 Welcome to my after school special kids, grab a seat, popcorn will be handed out right before the climax of this love story.

The climax where this man took  one of your friends on not one but two dates…then kissed you.

No no…not that climax…silly. That’s just the start of episode one

The climax where he told you that he planned on taking a trip in the next couple months to clear his head because he going through some kind of crisis.

Nope still not the climax

The climax where he makes you climax?

Well...that's a climax just not the kind I am talking about. Jesus.

You mean the climax where Skipper walked into his brother’s house to find you hanging out with his brother, and it was very obvious that you had just spent the night? Then Skipper stormed out of the house while yelling something at said brother?

Maybe? I guess we’ll see because this after school special isn’t over yet…I mean it should be. I should have got up and left after he kissed me, that’s what a good person would have done. But I didn’t. I wouldn’t have replied to his messages after he kissed me…but I did…I shouldn’t have let him make me laugh or feel special or happy or content because that’s really the beginning of the end for me and now I am left sheer confusion. I mean I just want some one who wants to hang out all the time, thinks I am awesome and beautiful and tells me so and wants to have sex with me and only me. Don’t mistake that for a relationship. Relationships turn into routine, they turn into fights, and they turn into work. I just want some thing fun and easy going, some thing that is just simple…this isn’t simple…I realize that…but when I am with him it feels easy. He makes it feel simple.

But being a girl I needed validation that he felt the same way I do so I asked the stupid question even though every thing inside me screamed don’t do; I asked him how he felt, if this was going any where or if it’s just what it is now. He said he liked me, but it was complicated, no, complex. I replied, Dana and Skipper? He just said ya. I don’t even know why I asked, I had been saying that since the start that I couldn’t exactly go to Sunday dinner with his family and sit down between the two brothers. I couldn’t give his dad a high five for raising not one but two sons who rock in bed.  I couldn’t answer the question how did you two meet; oh he was dating my friend! I don’t know what I was expecting; I don’t even know what I want. Maybe I need to learn to be content and go with the flow and not over analyze every thing.

I am content with this delicious croissant that is filled with chocolate and whip cream and strawberries. I am very content with that. 

Here I go ranting about the perks of being a women again

So…I snapped out of my “maybe a relationship wouldn’t be so bad and I should take Mchottie up on his offer” delusion last night (that Allah that didn’t last long) and by snapped out I mean Dana sat me down and talked some sense into me and Mike showed me a video I made in a very drunk state on Saturday night and I am mouthing the words “I HATE HIM!” because he wont participate in my video to Mike where I drunkenly say I love you a million times.  So no fairy tale love adventure there which means I can stop justifying all the red flags because he looks so hot without a shirt on. Aren’t we all a little proud?

There was one conversation we had when he was drunk and I was sober (also another proud moment wouldn’t you say). We were commenting on a girl at the pub who was a little all over the place and he made the comment women should be pure, meaning he is labeling women as whores and skanks for sleeping around. Ya, buddy, let me tell you some thing, I have the strongest opinion on this, and I shared my opinion with him. He still held the belief that while men are able to sleep with hundreds of women, women can not sleep with hundreds of men because it’s not a desirable quality and she should be pure. Biggest load of bull shit to come out of his mouth all weekend. I have so many problems with this, my biggest problem is that double standard for women. Why should women be denied some thing that feels good, is healthy, and is fun just because they aren’t in a relationship? They shouldn’t be. Plain and simple. Men can go out every weekend and bang a different chick but women are suppose to sit at home and wait for this magically prince charming to come and sweep her off her feet? No such luck buddy. If I’m a whore you’re a whore and the whole fucking world is a whore.

Now I am not saying women can do every thing men can do, we can’t. There are things men can do, like pee standing up, that I will never be able to do. But I’ll be damned if men get the luxury of sex and women don’t for the sake of staying pure!

Also let me do some quick math for you, let’s say you are in a happy and healthy relationship and you have sex two times a week for a year, you have sex 104.36 times in that year (the .36 are the times you faked orgasms). You aren’t a whore or a skank because you’ve only had sex with one guy, but you’ve let him stick it in your bum, done some crazy things with a blind fold and whip and maybe even made a home made porno, you still aren’t a whore. You are a nice, wholesome girl, who has only had sex with one person. YAY!

On the flip side of that, lets take single Sally, and she has sexual relations with a new guy once a month, so she get laid, once a month, if we are going with the one night stand kind of deal. Sally has sex 12 times, maybe 15 if she stays the night a couple times. Further more that’s an extremely depressing number, 12 to 15 times, she better be getting a discount at the sex store for all the vibrators she must buy. But back to my mathematical example, she is having nice wholesome one night stand, man is probably on top, lights are off, no crazy whips or lube sex. She’s are a whore. How does that even make sense! Relationship Rachel in the top example is having sex 6.96 times more than her! And! Not only that but relationship Rachel up there is doing all kinds of freaky shit in the sheets because she is comfortable with relationship Ronald!  But Sally’s number is higher, therefore she be a hoe. Sorry Sally, not only are you having less sex, but you are the whore his mother warned him about!

I am not saying go out and have unprotected sex with the whole world, but I just feel like the same standards should be there for men and women, just be safe and know what you are getting yourself into with a one night stand because they aren’t for everyone.  And if you run into a douche like Mchottie who says he only dates girls who have never had one night stands, do like I did and lie through your fucking teeth.