Your face is full of JUDGIES!

I've found that this life... can be very silly sometimes. I'm having a battle of wits in my head right now about how I want to approach this. I think I need another beer. Please excuse me:

My apologies. Now.. Where was I? Ahh yes. My "thoughts". Yes.



An old friend of mine and I were talking recently. He told me he and his woman were fighting. He found some dirty text messages on her phone to another fella. This upset him.

 Obviously. 




We then get into a conversation about what is right and acceptable conversation between two individuals? Does their past mean anything? For example... If you sleep with somebody and are left in good standing following said relations... and years pass and you're dating other people... Are you allowed to talk about your sexual past with whom you experienced? Reminisce at all? How far is too far? What are the rules? Are you supposed to just forget about it? Pretend as if it never happened? Or... do you just not talk to your current about it? Or ONLY talk to them about it?

In the end... my friend and his woman decided to look past these conversations and get on with their relationship. I say kudos to that. Why? I'll tell you.



I think it's safe to say that most adults have been involved in some sort of cheating situation. Maybe I'm totally wrong but.. I sure do hear a lot of relationships ending that way. Maybe we're looking at it the wrong way. Maybe if we all didn't believe monogamy was the "right" and only way to go there would be less heartbreak in this world? Less tears, more laughs... more trust... more orgasms!

I know what you're thinking. And that's fine. No judgies. Trust me... a year ago if I were to read this blog I'd think "Way to justify being a slut, ya big breasted hot piece of ass!" But in all seriousness... What if the Mormons were kinda right this whole time?

Hear me out. Gather 'round the magic carpet of sex and open relationships.

Say the situation is as follows..: You come home from work early to find your snickerdoodle kissy face scrumpin some no name bitch. 

You're shocked. You're hurt. You feel sick... you want to cry, and scream and punch them both in the face. 



Why?




What makes it hurt? Why do you feel that burn? That pain? That anger and sadness??


Because you trusted. You thought you "knew them". You "never saw it coming". You feel cheated. And like a victim. Like the world is against you and nothing is the same.


What part hurts? The sex? The actual, physical act of sex? Or is it the break of trust? The sneaking around... the planning... 




My point is... If you can gather the balls to actually be fully open, and honest, and respectful of yourself, and your partner... and accept each other... come to specific terms and conditions.... These situations don't have to happen.



Does this make any sense? I'm asking you to think about it. Open your mind right now... put your own thoughts and bullshit and judgies aside.. and hear me out. 

There's no sneaking around. There's no lying. There's no secrets.



Open.



It's like having Neapolitan ice cream.... 3 flavors... right there... Sometimes you just need some strawberry.




With sprinkles.




and a waffle cone cone. 

I think the most important thing people need to remember... is what's normal now? Wasn't normal then... and what's normal in the future? Who knows. But I'm sure people in the future will look back on us and scratch their heads. Because that's what we do. We look at history and wonder how the hell we got to where we are. It's all so different. And that's ok. 


If I ever have kids... I hope whatever kind of world we live in... it's an accepting one. And they can be whoever they were born to be.

As long as they're not republicans.

Wanna play doctor?

So I'm going to repeat myself a bit here. I'm not a professional blogger. I don't get paid. I have 4 subscribers... fuck you. I can touch on past topics if I want. Or forget. Or.. whatever fucking reason. Get off my back.

I just got home from wishing a best friend a final farewell before she moves 12 hours away. Though I've known her for many years, this past year has been exceptional. She has helped me grow and learn in so many ways. She's such a strong, bright, talented (like.. disgustingly talented) confident woman. She has helped me realize that.. despite my many quirks, and mannerisms, i'm a good person. I'm funny. I'm smart. I'm different. I'm beautiful the way I am. And most importantly.. I'm ok.

"Ok.. drunk face in 3... 2...peeerfect"

I will go on to say that my ex boyfriend DESPISED this woman. If you hooked him up to a brain wave reading machine... the mere mention of her name would match that of a pedophile watching a Tampax commercial. He lost his shit once when the two of us had plans to meet for lunch and bra shopping. I'm not exaggerating. I'm not lying. This. Actually. Fucking. Happened.

The thing is... she had the reputation of being a bitch. When in reality, it's the exact opposite. If you're being a total asshat... she'll tell you. If you hurt her feelings... she'll tell you. If you have invalid points about musical theatre... she'll tell you and then correct you.



What I'm getting at is... she isn't fake. She doesn't get all wishy washy.. she doesn't bite her tongue like a good girl ought to. She'll tell you how it is, and look fabulous while doing so. She's confident. Not a bitch. The thing with bitches is... they won't ever take advice. They never admit they're wrong. She will. If she doesn't understand something, she will learn. She'll follow up. She'll ask.

When I started hanging out with her more.. I saw that in her. I saw that it made sense to ask these things. To not stand there quietly when someone is wrong or being an asshat. It's ok to speak up. To be heard.

It took me this long to understand why he didn't like her.



She mentioned being in year 3 of her 5 year plan. When she said this.. I realized... I've never had a plan. I didn't in high school... I didn't in "college"... I don't now. I thought about it on the way home and I can't come close to having one.





Every generation and every society has a cookie cutter life style. There's the American Dream! The Husband! The Wife! The Kids! The dog! The white picket fence! The 2 car garage! Home office with framed diplomas on the wall! Pool in the back yard next to the BBQ! And a comfortable lifestyle with weekends off and clear blue skies!

Only... for millions of us... it's nothing like that.

I'm 28 (on Saturday, by the way... Happy Birthday to me!) A community college dropout, I'm in retail management, single, and I live alone with my cat in the city. I almost always have dishes waiting in the sink, clothes piled on the floor, a fridge full of beer, and a cupboard full of Mac and Cheese (Kraft), Spaghetti O's and a box of stale Special K. I have a variety of friends and acquaintances, I spend too much time on facebook, I curse like a sailor, cry like a girl, and I'm ok with that.

I have no idea what I want or where I want to be. It's incredibly difficult to figure out your future, while not destroying your present. Do I want to get married? Do I want kids?


I actually enjoy being in a relationship. I love getting excited to see a text from him.. or to see his car pull up... I HATE when I can't go a sentence without mentioning him (my sister catches me doing this ALL the time..) I love having someone to "report" to everyday about work, or to pass on a joke or.. hell.. to have a fucking date to something.

But!

In my single life I notice I have quite an array of taste. An extreme variety. My dating history confirms this. I've dated: Older, younger, fat, skinny, tall, short, alcoholics, sobers, sexy, fugly, smart, moronic, successful, pathetic, over the top Romeo, total Judas, rockstar, teacher, librarian, atheist, priest, pothead, straight edge, vegan, hunter....

Literally... I just can't figure out "my type"


Which of course has made me wonder if I can be with one person for the rest of my life? I know the divorce rate is high... I won't go there today. My point is.. if I know I can't.. I'm not going to. I will continue to date, and introduce my nieces and nephews to a new uncle every few months or years or what have yous.


I know what all you happily married people are going to say:

"When you meet him... you'll know"


My eldest sister says this. She's a lucky one. She did well in High School, went off to college, met her would be husband, broke he and his at the time girlfriend up, they dated, got engaged, finished college, got married, and they moved to a little apartment in Brooklyn where he finished Med School. They now live with their 3 amazing kids, in a custom built house in a small town on the southern tier. I don't know if she had a plan but it certainly worked out! They've been married for 17 years.

Another couple I know also had a plan. Started dating sophomore year. We're now 10 years out of high school. They're married, and just had a sweet baby girl.



I suppose what America needs to do a better job of.. is accepting people as I accept my apartment. It's eclectic. Nothing matches. And whenever I move again? My house will never be set up the same way.



There *is* no more cookie cutter. We're moving on and changing as a civilization. We're transitioning.




That's what I'm going to keep on doing.


Good luck, Bridge with a "T"! New York won't be the same without you! And North Carolina won't know what hit it! <3

You're a barista... not a life coach...

One of the worst things about a break up, besides the obvious of course, is the stupid little inspirational thigns people say to you. Suddenly everyone is a fucking psychological genius and knows exactly what went wrong, and how to fix it:

 "It's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.."

 Fuck you! Clearly you've never come home to find that some other bitch has used your lotion and body spray after scrumping your guy on your $20 Target t shirt sheets!

"There are plenty of fish in the sea"

Oh really, asshole?! How is that supposed to make me feel better? Gadzillions of little tiny fucking fish in this mass of water which takes up majority of our planet? And I'm supposed to find the right one?! Well I guess I WAS inspired by Finding Fucking Nemo... When I get drunk at bars I do tend to walk around grabbing strange men who smell good and say "Mine.. Mine... Mine....minemineminemineMIIIIINE!"

People do the same thing at funerals. As if losing someone wasn't torture enough... No. You then have to stand in line with your family and listen to dozens of people over and over say stupid things like:

"How ya holdin up?"

......really? These people obviously must forget what happens when someone dies. You have about an hour to grieve, then you have to go to the funeral home, the florist, the newspaper, then you're buried (no pun intended) in your mother's living room fishing through pictures, and do dads to put around the parlor, then you gotta find a wardrobe for yourself, and the deceased, figure out where the party is after the funeral (I'm Irish... It's just what we do..) and get word out. Figure out where all the out of towners are going to sleep... what kind of cereal they fucking like... so on and so on. So to answer your question, woman who knew grampa back in '72, Shitty. I am doing quite shittilly.


"Let me know if there's anything I can do"

I know this one means well.... But it needs to be more specific. Let me help you....


"When time will someone be at the house so I can drop over some lasagna?" or "I'm taking my kids to the movies tonight.Can I pick up your little Sally at 5:30?" Otherwise? This person will debate asking you to raise the dead, or go back in time... But they don't. Because they THINK before they say something stupid.

And I'm going to quote my grandmother on this one:

"I hate funerals with open caskets. People always say how good ya look. Well ya don't look good.. you're dead!"

And that's simply that.




What I'm getting at is... people are going to involve themselves in your personal life. It's easier now to do than ever before. There are so many windows into your life... we have a major lack of privacy. And don't get me wrong, I have a facebook. I put my shit out there. And I forget. I forget that all of these people know these little bits and pieces of my life. It always throws me off when someone I barely recognize and question knowing finds me in a store and asks how my cats hairball problem is. Big stuff.

My point is... people are people. We've all done it. We've all said mindless, careless things to other people without thinking. As humans.. we also have to deal with this shit when it happens to us. Understand what they're trying to say. Despite the fact that they may be failing miserably! There may be a point in there somewhere... Just try to find it. And embrace it. I mean.. do what I do and smile... say "Thank you.. that's so kind of you to say"..

Then think the real shit in my head...

"It's not the end of the world"

Well no shit! Are you saying I can't get pissed off unless the world is crumbling?! Of course I know it's not the end of the fucking world... moron..

"Maybe it's for the best"

....That I'm sitting alone with my mascara running down my face and into my mouth tarnishing the taste of Ben and Jerry (the ice cream, ya perv) in my mouth? Yeah, Maybe this is better than enjoying a meal cooked together and then sharing a bottle of wine over candlelight.. nah.. Phish food is WAY better. (Actually.. with my cooking? This sarcastic statement may be accurate...)

Having bad shit happen to us gives us the opportunity... rather the excuse to be "bad". To have the care free "I don't give a fuck" stand point for a few days. Don't feel bad about it... Fucking own that shit. You need to get yourself back to who you were. You need to fucking cry like a baby, you need to sing Alanis Morisette at the top of your lungs. You NEED to delete all the pictures of your ex's anatomy from your cell phone... except maybe one.

 We *are*  human...


Then you need to take a shower. A long shower. Use too much shampoo. Too much soap. Too much conditioner. Shave EVERYthing. Then cover yourself in froo froo and sparkles.. do you hair so it looks natural, and stunning. Put on make up. Don't go lookin like a whore, or anything... just give yourself a new glow. Look natural. Put on a sun dress and fucking go outside. Wear a huge smile because you OWN this shit. YOU OWN THIS SHIT. And get on with your life.

And listen to Mika. Mika always helps.

Gimme Shelter! Or a spanking.

So I've taken the next step. I've moved on from casual sex to dating.

                                  Why the fuck did I do that?



Seriously.. I'm terrible at this. Seriously damaged. I don't even follow my own fucking advice. I KNOW I change when invested in one person. I don't quite know how to not fully put my shit out on the table... It's like I literally present my bullshit on a silver platter over dinner. "Here ya go! Pass the salt? TA DAAAA!"

I'm seriously miserable and do nothing but yard work (I live in a rental... I'm investing in someone else's property. I think I need help), dishes... cooking... and Law and Order SVU Marathons. So what's the deal?



I've touched on both relationships, and the single life.. the perks and flaws of both... It seems sometimes that you just can't win, regardless of what side of the fence you're on. It would be so much easier to be the kind of person who sits and is happy and content with wherever they are. Unfortunately I'm an extremist. And a girl. As much as I hate to admit having the 'flaws' one would typically associate with a woman as being clingy, creeper, psychos....I've got 'em. Therefore.. if a lovah decides to see me on the solo.. I lose my shit. Why is it different if suddenly you have dinner once in a while? Or go to a movie? Or just for a drive? Is it because now... you've vulnerable? Now you kind of expect things from them? You're setting yourself up for disappointment. Cheating is such a common factor and I've got some bad juju coming my way there. (I'll leave that open to interpretation) I just assume the worst.


I go back to my phrase of  "(S)He who care the least.. has the control".



I've never stood behind a phrase like this. It's so fucking true it sickens me.When in situations where I feel I have control.. I realize it's because I give way less shits than whomever I'm talking to. And power is fucking dangerous.

I don't actually want power. Too much responsibility. I want equality and for someone to not be a total ass hat to me for no reason.




When you're single... you learn how to live on your own... be by yourself... find happiness in stupid things your cat does... invent new ways to keep yourself cool in the heat... change plans... Do whatcha want!



Then someone comes along who you enjoy. Someone who meshes with your little life, and compliments it. You think "Hm! This ain't so bad!". So you decide to let them in! And it all fucking changes. Why? Why was it cool and calm and fun before and now it's a fucking train wreck? Your phone, which used to overheat from texts, and calls and things that made you smile.. is now cold. And you check to see if it's on silent maybe? It's not. All you see is your stupid pathetic face in the reflection.

Why do we get so deep, so fast?


Then, if you're a woman you turn into a detective and find every girl on his facebook page who might be new.. and whom you have no mutual friends and wonder "Who the fuck is that skanky bitch!?!" And she's always prettier and thinner and looks way calm cool and collected... Care free...

and then you're all psycho'd out. Done. The minute you see the face... It won't leave your head. Ever. You may never trust again because little Allison Denningstein had to accept your boyfriends friend request.



Am I alone? Did I peg any of this? Why does it bother us so fucking much? Are we smart and learning from the past? Or causing new problems?


I'm guessing the latter.



Ice cream anyone?

Motivation? Anyone? Nah. It's too fuckin hot.

It's seriously hot as balls in my world today. Jesus. Happy fuckin Summer.

Anyways.



What the fuck is the point of dating? Seriously! Why do we do it? WHY. DO.WE. DO. IT?! Is the purpose to get married? A safety net? The fear of dying alone? To procreate? To have a date to family functions? To ride bikes through the mountains? Money? To fit in? Because we're brainwashed into thinking that's what we're supposed to do?


Yes.


From the day we're born there's jokes and comments of arranged marriages between friends who have babies at the same time...

 It's even worse for girls! Bride Barbie... I can't tell you how many fantastic weddings I've planned and executed for that bitch....

 Princess Brides! Dress up wedding dresses! I even had this little kit that came with a veil, gloves, accessories.... whole package. As children we play house.. taking on gender specific roles. I kid you not... I was always the family dog. There's some foreshadowing for ya... We rush into it all. Why? Because we don't have time? We want to enjoy every moment? Seriously. If you're fresh out of college, and you aren't in a serious relationship the comments start. Forget about grad school, or getting your masters, or ya know.. a career... It's "Are you seeing anyone special?" We're programmed.



This fuckin bitch once asked how things were going with a guy in which I was spending time. I told her it was still going  well but we got along more as friends. Who occasionally have sex. And go to breakfast. Do you know what this idiot said to me? This 23 year old pregnant and engaged (sometimes when they aren't fighting) bitch? She said "You like him but you don't want to be with him? Now isn't the time to be picky! What are you waiting for? You're going to miss your window and end up all alone! I mean.. you're like.. 27, right? That's almost 30..."

Fuck the WHAT?! What the fuck did you just fuckin say to fuckin me fuck?! FUCK!

Legit. Serious.

My response of course was "Well.. We can't all figure our lives out at 23. Enjoy food stamps."

So instead of my being aware that this person is not Mr. Right for me... I was shunned for not "making it work". He's since started dating someone WAY more adventurous than I. They do all that crazy Groupon adventure package shit. They travel. They shoot guns and go running. (sooo not me!)

                               I'm more of a "Let's go get matching tattoos!" kinda adventurous...

 Or... Let's cook tonight! Those who know me realize that can be quite an adventure... yikes...

They're moving in with each other to an awesome apartment soon. He told me this over lunch last week. So instead of all that wonderful compatible stuff he has going on.. we could be FORCING happiness on ourselves with each other! Boy.. we fucked *that* one up...  What an idiot.



It's at the point where.. if you're single and over 25.. you feel like you're doing something wrong. You feel that crunch time. That clock is ticking! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!?!?! But take a step back and look at who's pushing! What the fuck is the divorce rate right now? Kids now, more often than EVER, have 2 sets of parents! Mom and Randy, and Dad and Matilda! That's not the path I wanna go down. I also don't want to do the stay together for the kids thing because they always fucking know.

Maybe not at first but they catch on. Kids don't get enough credit. They're fucking smart when they wanna be. Fuckin detectives and shit...drinkin all my wine... little bastards...



My point is... There's nothing wrong with being single. At. All. There's always perks to every side! Of course being with that one person creates stability. Routine. Someone who knows where you're at. Someone to come home to. Someone to take care of dinner if you're running late.. someone to bring you tampons and fresh skivvies if you're bleeding all over yourself at work ( I'm a realist. That's fucking love, right there..)... someone to laugh with, someone to cry with, someone to be there for you. And you for them! You gotta be there for your person!

But the single life? Is an adventure all on it's own. You have no one to answer to. You can stay out as late as you want... you can go to bed as early as you want. You can watch SVU marathons naked on your couch with a pint of Heath Bar Crunch and a glass of Rose'. Oh.. that was a little to real...

You can go to whatever parties you want.. bars.. Late night viewings of "The Blob" at your local cinema...  see whoever.. go wherever....



I've learned more about myself in this past year, than I ever have.


If you settle for someone who isn't your match, not necessarily bad for you, but someone who doesn't quite mesh and mold with you.. you'll never find yourself. You'll turn into someone you can live with... but there's something missing. There's a part of you that is reaching to come out but you hide it away because it doesn't work anymore in your life. If you're with the right person.. that will be embraced.




Hold out for greatness. Someone to compliment you. Not just with praise but, someone who goes well with you. Understands you. GETS you. The real you.



It doesn't hurt if they're sexy, either. 

We don't talk about quickies.

I'm not drunk this time. I promise. If I was I'd tell you. Yes I would. Don't fucking argue with me! Fuck.


Days after my last blog (If you missed it, I went on and on about how stupid I was for dating someone.. but I really fucking like him and he really fucking likes me and bla bla bla) I realized I actually WAS pretty stupid. At least I sure felt like it. I hate to even admit it.. but I was foiled! What the fuck? Why does this keep happening?

I'll tell ya.


I don't have a fucking clue. I'm not going to pretend like I do. I can have a theory or two, or seven, or sixty five. It doesn't mean I have it figured out yet. Or.. that I ever will. It was very short, and early on therefore I'm certainly not heart broken.. I'm almost concerned as I haven't skipped a beat. But I do actually want to talk about this sillyness of what just happened to my love life. However, I will postpone until I can separate myself from it first, and take a look in. Really organize and focus my thoughts and try to get it out there.

This will be the shortest, least creative blog in my history.

SHould I drunk when I'm blog? Yes. Yes I should.

Ok so let me start by breaking the news to all of the eligible and married men out there who may have shown interest/lust my way. I started seeing someone. And I feel so fucking stupid for doing so...I don't want it all out the for the world to see because I truly believe that dooms a relationship. That topic is for another day.

Anyways Why do I feel so stupid? So fucking stupid? Because of this world. These standards.. these odds. Seriously.. the liklyhood of this relationship standing through the vast bullshit of our time is SO against us. Why even try? Because I really fucking like him, and he really fucking likes me. What an idiot, right? Nah, I know I can be a catch. Calm down, Princess.



I'm turning into a psycho. Me. Of all people. The author of this hysterical and informative blog. It's not scary psycho.. but it's not cute. It's almost concerning. But we *ARE* able to laugh and joke about it at the bar with friends so it's not a total basketcase issue.

Why? Why am I a psycho, all of a sudden? (I use this phrase losely)

 
I'll tell ya why. (Twist my fucking arm)




I'm a psycho because of the same reason most girls are psychos. Or huge raving bitches. For the same reason most men are asshats, or deuchebags, and mamas boys, or for the same reason we all have the tendency to be distant or clingy, depending on the day. Because we have a history. We have baggage. We've been hurt. It sounds so fucking cliche', and not everyone can relate. For example... if you marry your high school sweetheart, you might be ok. I feel sorry for your lack luster sex life... but I'm sure you're still ok! For the rest of us? We're fucked. Royally fucked in the ass. With a rusty switchblade. That's been covered in Salt. For some reason when I typed that, I pictured an ass getting a paper cut. That shit would hurt.

I digress. We all have baggage. Not to quote musical theatre... but I'm totally going to quote musical theatre. "I'm lookin for baggage that goes with mine"


Let's just accept the fact that if you're still single in your late 20's and beyond, you're going to have some scars. And you're probably going to need to talk about them. And you're probably going to cry. And you'll probably be embarassed. And then single. Again. Because everyone is so fucking proud. "She's a stage 9 clinger!"

Well.. fucking DUH! Who isn't?! Like you're so perfect! You live in your mom's basement, you work at Best Buy part time and you spend all your money on Mountain Dew, your XBOX account, and a bitchin sword collection! There's a big fuckin winner right there! Can't wait to plant my seed with YOU, ya fuckin jack monger!

Seriously?

Ugh,


Ok so I met this fella when I was working my shift at a bar. I never get hit on. Let me explain to those of you who don't actually know me. I work on Pride night at a karaoke bar. Yeah, they exist. I sing show tunes with a bunch of fucking homos and lesbians and we get shitfaced. People think I'm a Lesbian because I'm a huge supporter of the lifestyle.


Just because you run in the cancer race, doesn't mean you have cancer.

Jussayin.


Anyways, he was there. We met. We talked. We're both awesome so we hit it off right away. A few months passed and we decided to "make it official" How fucking lame is that? Jesus...

Anyways. Since then... I've totally lost my shit. I'm pissed at myself for this. I'd rather be naked in front of a stadium of people than lose cool credibility. I think the stadium is grateful it's the other way around.. Luckilly he's totally laid back, cool, patient and understanding... or too fucking busy... But we work it out.




Why was I awesome, and fine, and normal before a title? I'm invested. Before? There was nothing to lose. A guy thinks I'm awesome. Sweet! Nothing to lose... I had sole gain from his compliments and such. But now? He wants to *date* me? And ONLY me? And... me to ONLY date him? Pressure is ON.


I think it's safe to say we've all been cheated on in one way or another. Why does that suck so bad? Is it the trust? Is it us feeling like we aren't good enough? Why do we drive those to cheat? Again... another blog.


Everything turns into a controversy. A cover up. There's something bigger that we don't see and that drives us fucking CRAZY.

If knowing is half the battle... I guess I half win?