Friday, September 30, 2011

Things Couples Do

Me: ... okay, I know this is a movie so reality is thrown out of the window, but I think it'd be weird if people actually said stuff like this.
Solo: yeah, I guess it would be...

Me: wow; she has a gigantic bruise on her leg... ah, that sounds painful! Look at her face, I bet her jaw is sore & her gag reflex is being stimulated simultaneously.
Solo: ...

Me: He CANNOT be comfortable with his back pressed up against those stairs like that.
Solo: Wow, I wouldn't have thought of that. That must be uncomfortable.

Me: eww! Is that really what it looks like!
Solo: I hate close ups!

Me: Is this what you normally do?
Solo: No, usually I select a video a lot faster.
Me: So...
Solo: Well I was trying to be considerate.
Me: Aww, how thoughtful... that guy is REALLY hairy & he's not even in the shot.
Solo: It's not about him.

Solo: ... the sound isn't matched up with the visual.
Me: oooh.  I was wondering where that clapping was coming from...

Thursday, September 29, 2011


There's no way to go about this post without putting someone on blast.
Last weekend, my ex boyfriend & my current boyfriend celebrated their respective birthdays.
No big deal.
In the same city.
Kinda weird.
On the same gawddamned street that everyone who goes to Austin, TX celebrates on.
Only a little bit awkward.
Or a lot a bit.

Anyway, on my end, maybe I made the mistake of ever having said, "Happy Birthday."
Fair enough.
To which my ex responded with something along the lines of, "I'm sorry for how things ended & I miss you."
& though I fumbled for the right response but could come up with nothing better than saying thank you, what I found to be the most frustrating is that I had so much to say.
Five months ago.

At any given point in time over the course of two years, the window of opportunity for which came to a close this past May, an apology would have been relevant.

& what's sad is that I wanted this apology. I wanted him to say exactly what he said.
Maybe a little too much & admittedly for the wrong reasons.
I wanted to hear him tell me that he regretted the way he treated me because my pride was bruised.
Because my ego & I would hypothetically get a kick out of it.
Because I wanted to hang the fact that I was long gone in his face.
Because I wanted to wear his regret and strut around in it and be a gigantic bitch about the whole thing.
& maybe I lied just now when I said I had things to say back in May: I guess I thought I always wanted to say, "HaHA!" or "Omygawddd, it must suck so bad to be you."

But when the moment came & I FINALLY got what I thought I wanted, I realized that ever having wanted validation was so dumb.

I think we both lost on this one: validation didn't feel like I thought it would & he put his "feelings" on the table to find them unrequited & moreover to find that no one really gave a shit.
Which makes me think that there is definitely a cut off point for apologies. You can be so far out from an event that your apology makes no difference.

I've always been one to give a person an apology via email or awkward hallway exchange years after the fact & now I'm thinking that better late than never is a lie in some instances. I think in some instances, the correct idiom might be not to drag a dead horse. Or something like that. That's a popular idiom, right?


I have been useless all day.

I've been at school but I've learned nothing. read nothing. done nothing but play on the internet.

The top button on my blouse keeps popping open & I spent the last 45 minutes making an elephant out of pipe cleaner.

I've been irreconcilably silly all day; posting random shit on my friends' facebooks & facebook creeping on strangers. That last part wasn't really part of that thought but I thought I'd throw it in (also, I used the words part & thought twice in that sentence).

Anyway, I asked Fatty a little while ago:
If guns don't kill people, people kill people
then do toasters not toast toast, toast toasts toast?

To which she responded, "you are so profound."

I thought her response was funnier than my joke.

I was absent once last week & Fatty text me to tell me,
"the guy who just got called on is named Mr. Taint & you missed it."

Earlier today, my friends told me I'm not "parent safe" by which they mean they wouldn't trust me to meet their parents.
They all know me so well.

I've been off my game so much lately. I keep starting posts and then tossing them out because they, like this post, are not that great. I need more funny things to happen to me soon.

Or more profound things. Whichever.
Please forgive me for not having my shit together.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Rant: Good Deeds

I have some very good friends who are very good people.
But sometimes, when these friends would talk about how they won scholarships for all their community service, when they would post pictures of starving strays that they picked up on the side of the highway & took home to feed before taking them to a shelter, when they brag about how they taught indigent children living in squalor in South America how to grow their own corn, I often felt the urge to punch myself in the face.

& I would wonder: is this jealousy? Do I feel this way because I wish I was as good a person?
Would I feel better if I saved a dozen nuns from a burning bus that was about to roll off a cliff?

I'm not sure. & probably jealousy might be part of it.
But the other part is a theory I've been exploring lately & it is this:

There are those among us who do community service for the sake of their own vanity.
This theory isn't completely mine, I came across it while reading The Picture of Dorian Gray.
Some people only do good things to prove to themselves and others that they're good people.
Or maybe they really are good people. I don't know.

No matter what the reason, the world needs more volunteers & even doing something unselfish that's motivated by selfishness arguably benefits everyone involved.

But I still can't help but feel that we should all be able to contribute to society without feeling the need to brag about it.
Once upon a time before facebook, people used to do community service because they knew they could be a part of something bigger than themselves, and this realization was fulfilling without having to seek validation from others.

I wonder if we'll all ever get back to that.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Catch a tiger by the toe

A lot of people don't think of moving into a new apartment as a spiritual experience but over the course of this weekend, I've learned that if you ever want to feel alive the simplest solution is to either jam your toes into a blunt object or drop something heavy onto them.
No feeling has ever coursed through my body so fervently as the pain associated with jamming my toes into whatever solid objects were laying around my apartment.

I say spiritual not because I got high from all the fumes of the various cleaning products I employed to clean up my old apartment (which, I admit, may nonetheless have happened), but because when you're moving heavy boxes of your shit around, you've got a lot of time to to think...or maybe not. Maybe my wandering mind is the reason my pinky toe has turned blacker than coal.

Either way, I learned a lot this weekend & I think it's been good for me. A lot of things have been brought to my attention, things like:
--If you don't make lists of all the shit you don't have now that you've moved, you will make several trips to the grocer only to find you forgot something else...I still don't have paper towels.
--Dusting is absolutely necessary. My life was immersed in dust and I had no idea until I suddenly had to pick up every single item I owned. So, so much dust. I thought I was living inside your mom's cooter for a moment... but I wasn't (Ha, just joking! I just wanted to make sure I still had your attention...& also: Burn!).
--After the fact that you've dropped a canister of clear thumb-tacks into the carpeting while barefoot is a horrible time to be uncertain of the currentness of your tetanus vaccinations.
--Once again, toes are very very vulnerable.
--Taking naps will impede your progress.
--When the well is dry, we know the worth of water. Benjamin Franklin said that and let me tell you now, just how important it is to be precognitive of the fact that you will need toilet paper and trash bags.
--There are some things thumb tacks cannot hold up. Many, many things, as it were.
--Smaller apartments necessitate less furniture. I feel like I'm in a cleaner episode of hoarders. It's actually not that bad but I hope to never have more than two guests at a time or else we'll all be breathing the air directly from one another's mouths.
--It's easy to let your imagination (and paranoia) get the best of you when you move into a place by yourself for the first time after a year. Today Shakespeare and I both thought someone was inside our apartment. We came out of the bathroom draped in a towel and wielding an umbrella as a weapon only to find that the intruder was actually just the sound of thunder muffled from the bathroom door being closed and from having my Pandora on in the background. & when I say "Shakespeare and I," I actually just mean "me" since Shakespeare sensed no danger at all and kept napping on the rug while I panicked.
--It is never okay to nudey skype your boyfriend without first putting up curtains. Their are children on your floor, I guarantee it.

Saturday, September 17, 2011


I read once that in the winter, porcupines are faced with a conundrum:
they can either embrace the chilling temperatures or cozy up to a fellow porcupine.

As you can imagine, porcupines can only take being impaled by one another's quills for so long before each respectively says to himself, "Fuck this," and goes off to brave the winter's cold alone.

 Often times, though, they return to their snuggle buddy (or a new one) to try again, only to fall back into the same pattern of self-perpetuating destruction. Or whatever. I may have embellished that last part.

The point being, I liken myself to the porcupine.
-->& not just because we both have crazy hair.
But because I have a tendency to shun that which could actually be good for me and opt, always instead, to try to go it alone.
Case in point, in 24 years, I've dated TWO men who have actually treated me right. The first of which, regrettably, never really matured into much until the opportunity had casually and calmly slipped away and moved itself to North Carolina. I chose, instead, to spend two years in a relationship where I was basically alone but still savoring that independence and the comfortable distance it afforded me.

I'd like to think I can attribute this baleful behavior to the fact that I am afraid of pricks (which was both a pun on this porcupine thing I'm working on and also prick as in douchebags...but not literal douchebags. semantics). Do I crave to be near not just someone, but moreover, someone like me? Yes. But in metaphorical terms, I can't because of this inane fear of being hurt.

& let me tell you, my fear of needles has pushed me to implausible heights: for example telling someone with the best intentions, "Stop being so nice to me; Stop kissing me so much; You don't have to call me everyday," not to mention, this fear has prompted me in the past to switch birth controls. But I'm getting off topic.

& so I prompt another porcupine to say to himself, "Fuck this," by my own will only to find later that I miss his warmth and to stare into the face of the fact that I will most likely die alone buried under four feet of snow after getting frozen onto a log I didn't know was wet while searching for berries.

This got depressing fast.

Something I really liked

My good friend, Johnathon--who runs the world's CUTEST blog-- left a link as a comment under Companion Piece to a photo that accurately* depicts PMS. I just really liked the picture & couldn't help but share.
The picture is from which I browsed & found sufficiently entertaining.

I'd like to go on the record & say that I liked this picture not only because it describes, for me*, what the spiritual journey to the 28th day of the month can be like but also because sometimes I've found that I am prone to behaving this way despite the fact that I am not PMSing.

Anyway, Johnathon's blog is very wholesome, on top of being adorable, & I highly recommend that you take some time to make your heart smile at his blog.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011


While re-reading the post published immediately before this one, or Companion Piece, if you will, I realized I'd left something out.

The fact about girlfriends I'd left out was so important, so mammoth a fact, that it metaphorically round house kicked me to the ovaries.

It was so important that I'm incorporating this addendum in hopes of concluding this now three part series on my knowledge and experience (and clearly lack thereof) on the dating realm at a more honest place.

The fact about girlfriends that I over-looked was this:

Girlfriends queef.

Whenever it happens, if you could lessen our embarrassment by refraining from asking, "was that a fart?" it would be appreciated.

For the record, no one I've ever known has tried to deny farting by asserting it was a queef. But I'm getting off topic.

I now feel like I've better equiped my male readers to go forth and date women.
No need to thank me, just doing my civic duty.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Companion Piece

I'm calling this post Companion Piece because it is a follow up to a post I wrote last month about boyfriends: The Truth about Boyfriends. Shortly after The Truth About Boyfriends was published, I was asked by a friend, who is also a member of my very small circle of readers, to write a follow up to this post but from the alternate perspective; ie, The Truth About Girlfriends.

At first, I was over-joyed at the idea of having a blog concept handed to me. As a sidenote, readers, I LOVE THIS. If you ever have anything you'd like for to me write about, ANY THING AT ALL, please let me know & I'll do my best.

But anyway, while planning for this post, I was very soon confronted by the fact that, never having had a girlfriend, I was not sure what to say about dating girls. So, while thinking of ideas, I consulted a Lesbian friend of mine. My own theories on Western girlfriends were (a la Elizabeth Gilbert) that the Western woman comes off as crazy because of the choices she's confronted with that at one point in time were not available to her gender in this country. My Lesbian friend's response to this was something to the effect of, "No, shut up. Why are you trying to make this so complex? Wasn't your post on boyfriends overly simplified?"

& she was right.

So my beautiful, intelligent, special lady readers, please forgive me for the following:
--I will be over-simplifying our gender;
--It might be funny and stereotypical;
--Everything I write is limited solely & purely to my own experience as a girlfriend and as a friend of girlfriends (as it would be impossible for me to poll all the Western women on the planet to get their input. Maybe not impossible but I still don't want to).

Let's proceed.

In Rant: The Truth about Boyfriends, I put forth the theory that almost all problems you have with your girlfriend can likely be resolved under one of the following three concepts:
I stand by this theory and will elaborate.


As a boyfriend, you are expected to:
(A) Introduce your girlfriend as "My girlfriend, (insert her name here)" to any and ALL women you interact with on a weekly basis and YOUR PARENTS. Your failure to adhere to this rule will get you in trouble.
(B) Remember holidays, birthdays, and special occasions and give her some sort of token (or gesture) that re-assures her you have not forgotten.
(1)These tokens may range from the very casual verbal gesture to the very expensive jewelry type tokens--this will depend on the girl, the occassion, and the amount of time you've been dating.
(C) Admit when you're wrong. This is a big one. I don't mean this in the sense that over dinner at I-Hop the two of you got into a debate over a particular episode of Seinfeld that when googled, proves she was right. I mean when you've failed her, disappointed her, or broken her heart/spirit: YOU'D DAMN BETTER APOLOGIZE & it better be one of the best articulated, most poetic things you've ever said IN YOUR LIFE.
(D) Realize that you are lucky. Girlfriends do hundreds of different things to show their lover that they care; we try to cook things you like, we try to maintain our looks, we try to get better looking, we buy clothes in colors you like, we do your chores while you're at work, we clean our usually disastrous dwellings before you come over, we pick up the bill some of the time. EVERYTIME you notice that we're doing something right, YOU NEED TO SAY THANK YOU. There are NO coincidences with girlfriends; if there's a day where she looks particularly stunning, realize that on that day she went out of her way to look beautiful for YOU, and tell her that she's breath taking. If you don't, she'll start to think you don't notice & it's only a matter of time before she stops making the effort or finds someone who appreciates that effort. Re-assurance goes a long way.


Possibly the most self explanatory of all the pillars to being a successful boyfriend, but often the most violated.
As a boyfriend, you are expected to:
(C) Not be violent;
(D) Keep the flirting with other women to a MINIMUM (if at all) & also out of her sight;
(E) Believe in her abilities;
(F) Back her up in all quarrels that she's involved in but to which you are not a party, even if she is wrong;
(G) Not do things to intentionally hurt her. This includes any of the above listed actions but also;
(1) Name calling;
(2) Being spiteful.
(H) Let her know when it's over in a DIGNIFIED manner. <--It is NEVER okay to just stop talking to your former girlfriend without notifying her of your intent to see other people and stop seeing her.


This is where the comedy of being a boyfriend rests. Girls are nuts; each and every single one of us. To successfully date a girl, you need a fuckton of patience...more than that even & I'm not even sure how much that is.
You will need all of this patience because:
(A) Women LOVE to talk, about EVERYTHING. & the kicker is:
(1) Unless a response is warranted from you, you should NEVER interrupt a woman mid-story. I would guestimate that 40% of the conversations I have with my boyfriend are conversations that I not only dominate but would prefer for him to not engage in.
(2) Where a response IS warranted, there is ALWAYS a right answer. Your failure to provide the response we've selected in our minds as the correct response will lead to trouble.
(3) Where a response from you IS NOT warranted, your failure to show signs that you are listening will. get. you. into. trouble.
(B) Women LIE. Some of the biggest lies they will ever tell are:
(1) I'm okay. Which almost ALWAYS means the contrary & more specifically can mean:
(a) I'm not ready to talk about it;
(b) I secretly think you KNOW why I'm upset;
(c) I don't think you'd understand;
(d) I want an apology.
(2) I didn't snoop through your phone, computer history, etc.
(3) I'm not mad that you forgot how important _____ was to me;
(4) Even though I asked you to be my date at _____, I won't be mad if you don't come;
(5) My feelings won't be hurt if you say you don't like my outfit, makeup, hair, pet.
(C) Women can (& often do) hold onto a grudge FOREVER. As a matter of fact, much like men's ever-expanding list of people and objects they would bone, women keep a list of wrongs you've done to them. Every harsh word you've uttered, every time we've caught you looking at the cute girl at the coffee shop, every suspect phone call--mentally recorded, forever. & unless you apologize, we will hold it against you & bring it up one day four months later when you accuse us of forgetting to refill the ice tray.
This one is tricky.
We understand that once you've fucked up and apologized, there's nothing left for you to do. I once reminded a boyfriend of mine how much it killed me to know that he cheated on me--everyday for three months, EVERY OPPORTUNITY I GOT. He later told me that my refusal to forgive him and moreover, my desire to punish him everyday encouraged him to keep cheating because he felt since he was still being punished, he might as well continue to commit the crime. While he was just a dirty cheater and clearly full of shit, there are several things that can be learned from this:
(1) You don't deserve to be punished for things you've already apologized for;
(2) If she's still punishing you, she hasn't gotten over it;
(a) at this point, it's time to break up. There are some wounds time can't heal and resentment only makes them deeper. It IS ENIRELY possible to shatter a relationship beyond repair and once two people have reached that point, the best thing for everyone is to amicably part ways.
(D) Girlfriends NAG. A lot. Most of the time, our nagging is not even rationally related to what we're nagging you about. A nag from your girlfriend could mean anything:
(1) I'm still mad at you for that thing earlier today/last week/last month;
(2) I thought we were about to have sexy time--what are all your friends doing here?;
(3) I want some attention, dammit!/ I feel like you take me for granted;
(4) I'm having a bad day & taking my aggression out on you because I'm sure you'll put up with it;
(5) But sometimes, & rarely: I'm nagging you about something you actually deserve to be nagged about.
--> The thing about our nagging is if you're patient (hence why nagging is listed here), we will probably apologize once we've realized what big ass clowns we were. A woman who nags you incessantly without ever apologizing is immature--you should tell her and then LEAVE HER.
Inexplicable nagging could also mean:
(E) PMS. This is REAL. All women respond to PMS differently but it's something to look out for.

& Finally, to add a little humor to this post:
Girlfriends are Humans & People:

This means:
(A) They fart more, eat more, and KNOW more than they will ever admit to you;
(B) ALL OF HER CLOSE FRIENDS know the size, color, and girth of your penis as well as what the first time you've had sex was like and likely, what several subsequent sexual encounters between the two of you have been like;
(C) We burn ourselves all the time trying to cook, do our hair, light candles;
(D) If it ever seems like any of our friends don't like you, it's because everytime we get mad at you, we run & tell our friends how much of a dick you can be sometimes. As much as we try to undo this, our friends will always think you're an ass for pointing out that we gained weight over Christmas break.

Thursday, September 1, 2011


I am pretty sure I'm an ass hole.

& before I go any further, happy September 1st.
I thought today was actually August 31 so it's like I've time travelled to a future where things still suck as much as they did yesterday.
My mom once told me that as you get older, it seems like you turn a corner & the whole year has gone by. In my own case, this is a truth I've come to accept but realizing that today is the first day of the ninth month of this year is daunting. What the fuck happened to 2011?

But anyway, back to the topic of being an ass hole.
I hold this truth about myself to be self evident because as I type, I'm sitting alone in one of the very few rooms in our school's law library reserved for group study. I also had my head down for the better part of the last hour. When people walked by the study room I was napping in and lingered in the window, I'd lift my head just long enough to roll my eyes and then lay back down.
One student walked past this room twice and stopped by my window both times. The second time I laughed at her.

I also know I'm a jerk because I mentally participate in other people's conversations when I think they're funny. For example, this morning in my 8am course, the kid in the row in front of me kept sneezing.
The haggardly young woman sitting beside him kept saying "Bless you."

Because everyone in the class was on the verge of simultaneously stabbing themselves in the thigh with fine tip sharpies to stay awake, our professor gave us a 5 minute break.

Let me tell you readers, this young student is haggardly in every sense of the word. She looks like a living Cathy Comic Strip. Only she was wearing an old lady dress with ankle socks, sandals, & a bun that was held up with a pen. I'm not making this up people.

So anyway Cathy, as I've decided just now to call her, looks over at Sir Sneeze-A-Lot (I'm so good at names) & says, "Wow, you sneezed a lot today! ACK!*"
*Ok, the ACK wasn't there but I couldn't help myself after including the Cathy link.
& Sneeze-A-Lot is all, "I'm allergic to cats."
My brain was all, "Sucker punch to the ovaries! That hurt from all the way back here! *sigh*...It's far too early to get accused of being a cat lady."

Cathy responds, "I don't have a cat. Maybe it's my perfume?"

My brain, "Mmmm, cat scented. So sexual."