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Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Harpo...who dis woman?

I'm going to have to put a disclaimer here before I begin: I intend to use a LOT of profanity in this post. Not because I'm unable to express myself in clean, PC fashion, but because I'm mad as hell and being all shiny happy people about it won't adequately get my point across.

There. Now we can begin.

*grabs bullhorn*

BASIC BITCHES ARE FUCKING IT UP FOR DECENT WOMEN.

Let me elaborate. I'm back in the dating pool (fun!! *sarcasm*). I am now forced to wade through the foolishness and bullshit thrown at me in an attempt to find a decent guy who's interested in a relationship. But the problem I (and many of my single acquaintances) seem to be having is, men don't even try anymore. I'm quite aware that there are countless women in this area who are interested in nothing more than the occasional roll in the hay...and there's nothing wrong with that (different strokes for different folks and all that jazz), but ALL women don't feel the same way. The real rub comes when you meet a guy and the last 10 women he'd dealt with have groomed him to think that taking a crass approach to pitching woo is not only acceptable, but cute. (wait...did I just say pitching woo? how old am I, 65?)

Fail. Epic even.

When I meet a guy and he turns to sex as the active topic of discussion within the first 15 minutes, my eyes glaze over. I swear to God, if I hear some variation of how sexy I am and how I can "get it" from some mouth-breather one more time, I'm going to snap and beat him with his own weak-ass game.

*breathe*

Ok, now that I feel slightly better...let me move on. Guys, we women like chivalry. That doesn't automatically mean you have to go bankrupt taking us out and buying us useless crap in order to seal the deal. Really...not all of us are that dumb and materialistic. You can make it rain? Guess what...I have a job, so can I. I'll be impressed when you can make it thunderstorm. But if a woman says she's NOT looking for just another FWB...that's what that means. Don't think that you're special and you're gonna change her mind, you're not. You stand a better chance of making yourself look like a complete jackass.

And what is the deal with guys asking to come to your house 15 minutes after you begin an initial conversation? Are women in this area really that careless with their safety? Are they really that hard-up for some male attention? A guy sent me a message on some site I joined the other day and asked for my messenger id. Harmless enough, so I replied back with the info and told him I'd be looking forward to chatting and getting to know him a little better. So there we are on yahoo, just getting acquainted, when out of left field the sentence of doom is dropped: "You're really beautiful, I'd love to meet you. Can I come over?"

O_o

This conversation took place at 1:30am. Like the fuck I'm gonna invite you over to my place at almost 2am to "meet". Really? That's how folks end up on milk cartons. Don't sell me the bullshit when I have cows at home. I declined, feigned exhaustion after a long workday and said goodnight in short order (of course he offered to come give me a "massage" to relieve some of that workday stress *eyeroll*). I erased his info before he even had time to send me an email chock full of sexual innuendo and horrible spelling and grammar (sidenote: that shit really chaps my ass. How can you be over the age of 21 and "u wana spel lyke dis"? What the bloody hell is wrong with properly spelling things? I don't want you to sound like you didn't pay attention in grade school, that shit aint cute, ugh! /end rant)

Men: do better. Please.

*drops mic*

Pins and Needles - Billy Talent

What I'm listening to right now...


Sweet Minty Jesus, it's Christmas

It's that special time of year again...the snow is falling (wait, no it's not, it just rained)...the family is near (wait, no they aren't, it's just me and my mom this year...and she's driving me nuts)...the presents are under the tree (wait, no they aren't, there is no spoon tree and I received no presents)...and I'm cuddling with my sweetheart by the fire (wait, does a commitment-phobe who really doesn't like me that much count? No? And swing and a miss).

*Sigh* 

It's Christmas again...and I feel like crying again. Not because I'm alone (that commitment-phobe doesn't count and I'm not going to lie to myself and say he does, he's just a band-aid on a stab wound...and he'll be tossed out in the NYD garbage like the empty bottle of whatever I'll be drinking because I'm not moving into a new year with folks who really aren't here for me) and not because I didn't get any gifts, but just because it doesn't really feel like Christmas. I tried listening to some music, but that didn't really help. My mother is driving me to drink, but like the idiot I am, I didn't stock up on proper hard liquor before stores closed on Christmas eve...so I'm drowning myself in wine and (yuck) beer. 

Well, I have one thing to be grateful for this year: at least I don't feel like slitting my wrists the right way, so I guess that's an improvement from 2011. Still, is it bad that I was a tad disappointed the world didn't end on 12/21? It is? Meh...I don't give a shit. I'm also proud of myself for not vomiting my sadness all over fb this holiday season...no need to ruin the good cheer of those who haven't hidden me in their newsfeed yet. Oh...and I had to feign absolute joy with the "surprise" (note: yeah right, attention whores) engagements and baby announcements on fb all day (welp, that's six more people I'm hiding from my timeline...me and my missing uterus don't give a single solitary fuck about your pregnancy, congrats, have fun with that).

Next week is NYE...I'm going to the annual NYE BADASS rave up in Baltimore. I'd hoped I wouldn't have to go alone, but ye ole commitment-phobe is refusing to say he's definitely coming or not, so I purchased a single ticket and told him if he didn't want to come, it was no big deal and I'd just go alone (note: it is a big deal and that was a test...and he failed...quelle surprise). I was so excited when he professed his love for EDM, I thought it would mean more of a chance to do things together that we both enjoyed, but alas, no. Oh well...but I'm holding out hope, maybe I'll meet a really nice guy at this party and start the new year on a high note instead of a lonely drive home while crying at the tatters of my life...one can dream right? Please? Anyone? Bueller? 

Also, I miss my dog...like a lot. I can't wait for him to come home. At least that's one male in my life who loves me unconditionally. And on that note, I need a drink because that's probably the most pathetically sad thought to ever cross my mind.

*drops mic*