OK, so I’m feeling a little feisty today. Might have something to do with the really good date I had last night. OR, it might have something to do with Guy #2 (who I haven’t spoken to since fucking St. Patty’s Day – get a clue dude, you’re starting to creep me out) calling me at 3 IN THE MOTHERFUCKING MORNING.
Now, if you don’t read me that often, you may not know that I love sleeping. I mean, I love sleeping. I’m a huge fan. But what I don’t love is being woken up. For, like, any reason. And people who know me are aware of this. 3 a.m. is an unacceptable time to call me unless it’s an emergency. So when my phone rings at 3 a.m., I’m going to assume it is an emergency. It wasn’t.
There I was, dead to the world and happy as a clam, when my phone rang. Struggling to open my eyes and look at the clock, I panicked when I saw the time. Who could be calling me? What was wrong? Had something happened? Fumbling around in the dark, I located my phone (randomly under a pillow in my bed) and answered it. I didn’t check my caller ID. I just answered.
I was expecting a family member or friend. I got a fucking moron:
Redhead: (still pretty asleep but concerned) Hello?
Guy #2: Redhead? (he actually said my real name here, but humor me)
Redhead: (realizing its not anyone I care about or like – and certainly not an emergency – I get instantly livid) Who is this?
Guy #2: It’s Guy #2. (he actually used his real…never mind)
Redhead: (not even trying to sound calm) What the fuck are you doing calling me at 3 in the morning?
Guy #2: I wanted to talk to you.
Redhead: (sitting up and letting my voice raise – sorry neighbors) Are you fucking kidding me? I haven’t returned one of your phone calls or text messages. It’s been 2 fucking weeks! Get a fucking clue! Don’t fucking call me in the middle of the night!
Guy #2: Yeah, but…
Redhead: What is your fucking problem?! I was just sleeping! I have to get up for work in 3 hours! And in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I don’t want to talk to you, you fucking idiot! Fuck off, leave me alone, and never, ever, ever call me again. Jackass!
(Click)
So, yup. That’s what I call a meltdown. Inadvisable if this guy ends up being unbalanced and/or a stalker? Clearly. A solid 9 out of 10 on the bitch scale? No question. Something I regret in any way, shape, or form? Nope. I feel totally comfortable with how I handled the situation. I mean, 3 in the morning?
Anyway (deep breath), I’m over it now. And that’s not even what this post is about – that’s just kind of an explanation before I begin. You see, I’m seeing the world through bitch colored glasses this morning, and in my crabby (and sleepy) state, I decided to stumble through the news section of the US Magazine site (always a good brainless early morning activity). Since I hadn’t been there in a while, I went back a few days to read through all the posts. And one caught my eye.
Called Hollywood’s Teetotalers, I quickly guessed what that ‘story’ was about. And I smiled. Who doesn’t love typically stupid actress quotes? I knew I was going to get some holier than thou bullshit, and I normally love that stuff – it makes me feel good about myself and my intelligence. But today, since I’m in ‘a mood,’ I feel a particularly strong need to rip into these women and what they said. So, since I have this lovely space to do so, here are my top 3 nitwits:
—“I'm not really a drinker…I think it's gross. I really don't like drunk women; I think it is such a bad look. I think it's very inappropriate and I don't like it…I think it's incredibly embarrassing when people are drunk. It just looks so ridiculous. I find it very degrading. I think, ooh, you're really degrading yourself right now, to be this pissed out in public.”
-Gwyneth Paltrow
Really? You mean it doesn’t look good to get falling-down drunk? Are you sure? Because I always thought the reason women get totally fucked up was because it looked good. Those half-mast eyes, inevitably running makeup, and sort of clammy skin always looked hot to me. In fact, when the world is spinning around me and I’m praying I make it to the bathroom before I throw-up, I always think ‘damn this is a good look for me.’ But you’re saying it isn’t? Are you sure you pseudo-British wannabe?
Because you’ve never been drunk before, right Gwyneth? All those stories I’ve heard about your younger days are just gossip, I’m sure. And this quote I found after a quick Google search of you? This can’t be right – right?
“As a teenager at a posh New York private school, blonde, blue-eyed Gwyneth was a rebel without a pause. Never short of dates, she drank, smoked dope and drove her parents mental by staying out all night.” –Sunday Mail (UK), June 30, 1996
Hmmm. Now I don’t know much about the Sunday Mail, but it sounds like you DO have a few nights in your past that you’d like to take back. Interesting.
Well, no bother. Anyone who names her kid Apple isn’t someone whose opinion I really respect anyway.
Oh, but way to call out drunk women in particular – they ARE so much ‘grosser’ than drunk men. You’re a fucking genius.
-Redhead
—“I don't drink, I don't smoke and I've never done any drugs. I avoid fried foods and have even given up coffee. I have remarkably few vices and I'm never late.”
-Sarah Michelle Gellar
Wow. Sarah Michelle Gellar is a saint! I knew it! First Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and now just a perfect human being. How does she do it?
I mean, sure, she married Freddie Prinze, Jr., which is just sad. And she was in those horrible Scooby Doo movies. Oh, and some really bad romantic comedies – but they don’t hire her for those anymore.
Still, that teenage boy’s body seems to be working for her. And I’m sure she’s a really fun friend to have; what with the no drinking, smoking, drugs, fried food, or coffee, there’s so much more time to…um…
Well, she WAS Buffy.
-Redhead
—“I don’t drink – I’ll have a sip, but I’ve never been drunk – and I don’t smoke. I envy people who have those releases. They just have a drink or a cigarette and they feel better. I have to brave it through the whole day on my own.”
-Jennifer Lopez
You know, when I think Jennifer Lopez, I DO think ‘brave.’ It’s brave to get married three times in less than 10 years (but engaged 4 times – that we know of!). It’s certainly brave to appear in any movie after Gigli. And to go out in clothes that JUST BARELY cover the naughty bits – brave, brave, brave. To go out in sheer clothing without a bra – brave. To actually name your record ‘J to tha L-O!’ – brave. To still call yourself a ‘simple girl from the Bronx’ when everyone who's ever worked for you calls you a diva – brave.
To marry Marc Anthony – legitimately brave.
J. Lo, you are my inspiration.
-Redhead
Happy Friday everyone!
Friday, March 30, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
A Bunch of Randomness
-My microwave started shooting sparks at me yesterday. Naturally I turned it off and went without dinner. I’m putting the over/under at a week before I actually get off my ass and call my super.
-Just tried something called Chocolate Flavored Tea – tastes nothing like chocolate but a lot like coconut (surprisingly AND illogically). But since coconut is one of my favorite smells/foods, I’m not complaining. Have been steadily overdosing on it ever since.
-That new show on ABC – October Road – seems pretty stupid, but the guy who plays Eddie on it is all kinds of scrumptious. I’m thinking he’ll be enough to keep me tuning in for the next few weeks.
-Every once in a while I come across a song I haven’t heard in a long time but love. Why did I forget about the song? Who knows – I’m just glad to have it back. This week’s new/old find: Brass Monkey.
-My brother has somehow taught his son to call him Main Man instead of Dad (my nephew isn’t even two yet). If you knew my brother, you wouldn’t be surprised.
-If Carl Pavano pitches the season opener for the Yankees, I’m officially concerned about this year.
-One of the main selling points (for me) on relationships is the concept of the free massage. I’m not in a relationship right now, and my back is killing me.
-Land turtles can live without food for about a month. (I’m full of crap like this.)
-I never call my friends back right away – generally it takes me about a week to return a call. Does this make me a bad friend?
-Question: How long does it take to write captions for every photo in a 64 page nonfiction book? Answer: Approximately 2 hours.
-The movie She’s the Man is unadulterated cheesy goodness. I don’t have one (female) friend who didn’t secretly love it. I don’t know one man who’s seen it. Two thumbs up.
-I get kind of embarrassed when I’m reading a book on the subway and all of a sudden there’s a sex scene. It’s like being caught with porn. I inevitably turn bright red and stop to contemplate whether I should just wait until I get home to continue reading. I call these my wuss moments.
-I have to say that the fictional childhood character I related to most was Oscar the Grouch. Is that weird?
-Why do women take breast shots and use those for their blog/profile photos? How does that seem like a good idea? I REALLY don’t want to come across like a feminazi, but what the fuck?
-If I carry cash I immediately spend it – doesn’t matter how much it is. $20…gone. $80…gone. $200…gone. That’s why I generally have about 75 cents on me. I’m not lying to the homeless guy when I say I have no money to spare.
-Dogs (and dog people) are cooler than cats (and cat people). I have a cat and even I know this.
-And finally, a warning:
The overhead lights in my apartment are actually in these really beautiful ceiling fixtures, which is great from a visual standpoint. Plus, the ceilings in my apartment are really high. Also good. But a problem arises when the lightbulbs need to be changed. Especially the ones in my bedroom. You see, the fixture is right over my bed, which means I can’t really use a ladder to get to it (not that I even own a ladder). So what I do is stack books on my bed and try to balance on them as I unscrew the heavy crystal fixture, unscrew the lightbulbs, screw in new ones, and then attempt to reattach the fixture. Needless to say, I’m not standing on a stable base. And I’m really high up at that point. It takes MANY books for me to be able to reach (and I’m 5’8) – plus my bed is already on these pretty wooden blocks. To top that off, I’m kind of afraid of heights. Basically, it’s dangerous and I’ve almost fallen several times. And tonight I will attempt the great lightbulb swap again. So, um…if you don’t hear from me for a while, now you’ll know why.
-Just tried something called Chocolate Flavored Tea – tastes nothing like chocolate but a lot like coconut (surprisingly AND illogically). But since coconut is one of my favorite smells/foods, I’m not complaining. Have been steadily overdosing on it ever since.
-That new show on ABC – October Road – seems pretty stupid, but the guy who plays Eddie on it is all kinds of scrumptious. I’m thinking he’ll be enough to keep me tuning in for the next few weeks.
-Every once in a while I come across a song I haven’t heard in a long time but love. Why did I forget about the song? Who knows – I’m just glad to have it back. This week’s new/old find: Brass Monkey.
-My brother has somehow taught his son to call him Main Man instead of Dad (my nephew isn’t even two yet). If you knew my brother, you wouldn’t be surprised.
-If Carl Pavano pitches the season opener for the Yankees, I’m officially concerned about this year.
-One of the main selling points (for me) on relationships is the concept of the free massage. I’m not in a relationship right now, and my back is killing me.
-Land turtles can live without food for about a month. (I’m full of crap like this.)
-I never call my friends back right away – generally it takes me about a week to return a call. Does this make me a bad friend?
-Question: How long does it take to write captions for every photo in a 64 page nonfiction book? Answer: Approximately 2 hours.
-The movie She’s the Man is unadulterated cheesy goodness. I don’t have one (female) friend who didn’t secretly love it. I don’t know one man who’s seen it. Two thumbs up.
-I get kind of embarrassed when I’m reading a book on the subway and all of a sudden there’s a sex scene. It’s like being caught with porn. I inevitably turn bright red and stop to contemplate whether I should just wait until I get home to continue reading. I call these my wuss moments.
-I have to say that the fictional childhood character I related to most was Oscar the Grouch. Is that weird?
-Why do women take breast shots and use those for their blog/profile photos? How does that seem like a good idea? I REALLY don’t want to come across like a feminazi, but what the fuck?
-If I carry cash I immediately spend it – doesn’t matter how much it is. $20…gone. $80…gone. $200…gone. That’s why I generally have about 75 cents on me. I’m not lying to the homeless guy when I say I have no money to spare.
-Dogs (and dog people) are cooler than cats (and cat people). I have a cat and even I know this.
-And finally, a warning:
The overhead lights in my apartment are actually in these really beautiful ceiling fixtures, which is great from a visual standpoint. Plus, the ceilings in my apartment are really high. Also good. But a problem arises when the lightbulbs need to be changed. Especially the ones in my bedroom. You see, the fixture is right over my bed, which means I can’t really use a ladder to get to it (not that I even own a ladder). So what I do is stack books on my bed and try to balance on them as I unscrew the heavy crystal fixture, unscrew the lightbulbs, screw in new ones, and then attempt to reattach the fixture. Needless to say, I’m not standing on a stable base. And I’m really high up at that point. It takes MANY books for me to be able to reach (and I’m 5’8) – plus my bed is already on these pretty wooden blocks. To top that off, I’m kind of afraid of heights. Basically, it’s dangerous and I’ve almost fallen several times. And tonight I will attempt the great lightbulb swap again. So, um…if you don’t hear from me for a while, now you’ll know why.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Baseball Season Is So Close!
I’m sitting at my desk yesterday, editing a (painfully) bad book, and my email dings. Ah, a break, I thought. About damn time. Who’s saving me? Ooh, John*. And wait, what’s that? What’s the subject of the email? Yanks Tickets? Yes, I think I can read this one.
So I click on it, and I see that John just got back from the Bahamas (which he insisted on telling me just to piss me off), and he was the proud owner of some Yankees tickets (which he knew would keep me from hating him about the vacation). He, of course, was inviting me to go with him. Why? Because he owes me. And I’m awesome to watch a baseball game with.
Why does he owe me? Well, I have partial season tickets to the Yanks – right near first base; they’re beautiful seats – and I take him. A lot. I do this for several reasons, but the top two are he’s willing to go to games in the middle of the week, and he always buys the beer as a thank you. He also tries to return the favor by inviting me whenever he gets seats. So it works all around.
Plus, he’s fun. He’s laid back, he knows his baseball, he can drink me under the table, and he humors me when I get drunk and insist on buying cotton candy (which I don’t really like). He’s my buddy. I’ve known him since high school (when he was a first year teacher and I was a senior). And he doesn’t mind when we go out and I hit on other men. It’s totally platonic between us. Sort of.
You see, here’s the thing. Even if a relationship is platonic between a straight man and a straight woman, there’s always flirting going on. It never means anything of course – it’s more like practice. But, it is flirting. So you have to make sure everybody’s on the same page. But as long as everyone is, it’s totally fun and harmless. And John and I have always been on the same page. Kind of.
Except for that one time.
OK, here’s what happened. It was last year. We were at a Yanks game on a cold, rainy, miserable Saturday, and I was complaining. Why? Because I was hung over (I’m not an alcoholic, I swear) and freezing. And I can be pretty annoying when I’m complaining. Still, John knows me well, and this isn’t the first time he’s ever seen me in a bad mood. In fact, he thinks I’m cute when I’m cranky. Which I am. I swear.
So what did John do? He went in search of hot chocolate to warm me up, a beer for after the hot chocolate, and a blanket (that he saw them giving away for free as a promotional thing for…something). He came back with all this stuff for me, and I was so thankful that I let him rub my hands to warm me up – I know, I’m an angel.
And then we somehow (during one of many rain delays), got to talking. If I remember correctly, they were flashing those Happy Birthday!/Welcome (insert name) signs up on the big screen, and up came Welcome, Harry and His Bachelor Party (or something like that). And John goes:
John: Hey, I know those guys.
Me: You know Harry?
John: Yeah, I met them at Stan’s before the game.
Me: (considering) You know, if I could convince my friends to do it, I’d have a bachelorette party that included a Yankees game.
John: No one would go for it.
Me: Yeah. But you’d come. It doesn’t have to be just girls. I bet I could convince everyone.
John: I can’t come if I’m the groom.
(Dead silence while I look at him to see if he’s joking. He doesn’t seem to be. He’s actually looking at me in kind of an intense way.)
Me: Um…(nervous giggle) you wouldn’t want to marry me. I’m a pain in the ass.
Pretty much everything after that was awkward. I was miserable. He was quiet. It was just bad. Probably the worst baseball game I’ve ever been to, and it had nothing to do with the weather. When he suggested we go to dinner after the game, I said something along the lines of, “No.” No explanation. Just no. Then I avoided his phone calls for the next two weeks. Because I’m a pussy.
But we got through it! We learned to pretend there was never any awkwardness. I now make it a point to mention anyone and everyone that I might be dating or considering dating. And he continues to give the impression he doesn’t care (so I’m going to assume he doesn’t). In other words, my baseball buddy and I are back on the same page. And another season is upon us. Which is great. Because a good person by your side (at a game) is important. Not essential, but important (the game is always the most important thing). They make the experience EVEN MORE enjoyable. And I’d hate to have to scratch John off my list.
He really does always buy the beer.
*Not his real name
So I click on it, and I see that John just got back from the Bahamas (which he insisted on telling me just to piss me off), and he was the proud owner of some Yankees tickets (which he knew would keep me from hating him about the vacation). He, of course, was inviting me to go with him. Why? Because he owes me. And I’m awesome to watch a baseball game with.
Why does he owe me? Well, I have partial season tickets to the Yanks – right near first base; they’re beautiful seats – and I take him. A lot. I do this for several reasons, but the top two are he’s willing to go to games in the middle of the week, and he always buys the beer as a thank you. He also tries to return the favor by inviting me whenever he gets seats. So it works all around.
Plus, he’s fun. He’s laid back, he knows his baseball, he can drink me under the table, and he humors me when I get drunk and insist on buying cotton candy (which I don’t really like). He’s my buddy. I’ve known him since high school (when he was a first year teacher and I was a senior). And he doesn’t mind when we go out and I hit on other men. It’s totally platonic between us. Sort of.
You see, here’s the thing. Even if a relationship is platonic between a straight man and a straight woman, there’s always flirting going on. It never means anything of course – it’s more like practice. But, it is flirting. So you have to make sure everybody’s on the same page. But as long as everyone is, it’s totally fun and harmless. And John and I have always been on the same page. Kind of.
Except for that one time.
OK, here’s what happened. It was last year. We were at a Yanks game on a cold, rainy, miserable Saturday, and I was complaining. Why? Because I was hung over (I’m not an alcoholic, I swear) and freezing. And I can be pretty annoying when I’m complaining. Still, John knows me well, and this isn’t the first time he’s ever seen me in a bad mood. In fact, he thinks I’m cute when I’m cranky. Which I am. I swear.
So what did John do? He went in search of hot chocolate to warm me up, a beer for after the hot chocolate, and a blanket (that he saw them giving away for free as a promotional thing for…something). He came back with all this stuff for me, and I was so thankful that I let him rub my hands to warm me up – I know, I’m an angel.
And then we somehow (during one of many rain delays), got to talking. If I remember correctly, they were flashing those Happy Birthday!/Welcome (insert name) signs up on the big screen, and up came Welcome, Harry and His Bachelor Party (or something like that). And John goes:
John: Hey, I know those guys.
Me: You know Harry?
John: Yeah, I met them at Stan’s before the game.
Me: (considering) You know, if I could convince my friends to do it, I’d have a bachelorette party that included a Yankees game.
John: No one would go for it.
Me: Yeah. But you’d come. It doesn’t have to be just girls. I bet I could convince everyone.
John: I can’t come if I’m the groom.
(Dead silence while I look at him to see if he’s joking. He doesn’t seem to be. He’s actually looking at me in kind of an intense way.)
Me: Um…(nervous giggle) you wouldn’t want to marry me. I’m a pain in the ass.
Pretty much everything after that was awkward. I was miserable. He was quiet. It was just bad. Probably the worst baseball game I’ve ever been to, and it had nothing to do with the weather. When he suggested we go to dinner after the game, I said something along the lines of, “No.” No explanation. Just no. Then I avoided his phone calls for the next two weeks. Because I’m a pussy.
But we got through it! We learned to pretend there was never any awkwardness. I now make it a point to mention anyone and everyone that I might be dating or considering dating. And he continues to give the impression he doesn’t care (so I’m going to assume he doesn’t). In other words, my baseball buddy and I are back on the same page. And another season is upon us. Which is great. Because a good person by your side (at a game) is important. Not essential, but important (the game is always the most important thing). They make the experience EVEN MORE enjoyable. And I’d hate to have to scratch John off my list.
He really does always buy the beer.
*Not his real name
Monday, March 26, 2007
A Time Out for Psychobabble
Guys and I have a complicated relationship (I bet all women can say that). What I mean by that is guys like me – I know how that sounds, but let me explain. You see, generally speaking I’m a cool girl. I’m not clingy, I love sports, I enjoy hanging out with ‘the guys,’ I enjoy…other stuff, and I’ve been told I look good.
Note: This is not going to turn into a whole ‘I’m really hot’ thing, because that’s not for me to say. A woman’s looks always come down to personal taste. Plus, I think it’s weird when someone insists they’re gorgeous but won’t give you a picture to verify it – which I won’t. Ever. (Let’s keep this anonymous, OK?)
Only I’m not so good at relationships. This doesn’t make sense for lots of reasons, not the least of which is that I like guys. I think they’re fun. And I know relationships (real, long-term, working relationships) can exist. I’ve seen them. So there’s no reason for me to have issues. But I do. Big time.
I’ve found that as the years go by, I tend to run from commitment. Not that I’m going to turn this into a psychological examination of myself (I hope), but let’s just say I’ve been meeting a lot of guys lately – I just got out of yet another non-interesting ‘relationship’ – and I’ve been faced with my own limitations. In other words, my friends (and mom) have been very free with their opinions of late.
So I’ve started to pay more attention to my thought process. And it all starts with my ranking system. This is, basically, how I categorize guys upon meeting them. All guys fall into one of three categories. They are:
NO FUCKING WAY. These are the guys who either a) just aren’t attractive to me, or b) say or do something that totally turns me off. These guys will at best get a few minutes of conversation before my friends and I move on. And rarely are they even future friend material. Most guys fall into this category. Red Sox fans belong here.
HMMM, CUTE. These guys fall into my adorable range. In other words, they’re attractive, can hold their own in a conversation, and they have something interesting going on. Maybe something comes of it and maybe something doesn’t, but no matter what they never last long. A few weeks to a couple of months at the most. And I know this right off the bat. I don’t know how, but I just know if there’s not real future there. This is not a guy I will ever introduce to my family. Bad boys fall into this category.
YES, PLEASE. THANK YOU. These are the guys that kind of knock my socks off. Generally really good looking, they have their lives together and don’t need me. They may want me, but they don’t need me. They’re just as smart if not smarter than I am, have great senses of humor, and confidence to spare. These are the guys that I could potentially fall for. That is, if I weren’t me. As it stands now, these guys rarely last longer than the HMMM, CUTE guys do.
Why? Because I’m a runner.
I run from men. All men (eventually). Running from the HMMM, CUTE guys is easy. They were never meant to last long anyway. They were entertainment. But they’re also safe and don’t freak me out as easily. Which is why they’ve been known to last as long (if not longer) than the YES, PLEASE. THANK YOU guys.
This doesn’t make sense, I know. The YES, PLEASE. THANK YOU guys are the keepers. They’re the ones that should (ideally) work out. Because – outside of the little quirks that we all have – they’re pretty perfect. They treat me well, have their shit together, and push my buttons (in a good way). But I always wuss out with them. I’m in danger of ending up in an actual relationship with them, not my typical ‘relationship.’ And that scares me. Because I don’t like relationships.
You see, I’m not a big fan of change. And relationships force me to change. I like my life as it is. I’m comfortable. I suck at change. So while I can change things in the short term (the ‘dating’ stage), I’m not so good at it in the long term. The long term requires a new routine; the thought of which creeps me out. So the YES, PLEASE. THANK YOU guys generally don’t last long. I’m threatened by them.
Like I said, I’m a freak.
Unfortunately, I’m starting to piss people off with this gun-shy behavior – my mother, for one (although she’s trying to pretend my commitment issues don’t bother her, which is actually kind of cute). My friends have taken to teasing me (and telling me they’ll take care of me in my old age). And even the people I work with (I work with a lot of women) have started questioning me when I mention that’s I’m no longer seeing (insert name of current guy here). Apparently ‘I just didn’t get around to ever calling him back/I told him I was too busy for a relationship right now’ aren’t good reasons. Who knew?
So I’ve been thinking. And now I’m torturing you with my ponderings. Am I just young and stupid? Have I simply not met the right person? Will I actually know it if/when I do meet the right person (as so many people are fond of telling me)? Or, could I just not be the settling down type? I don’t know.
I guess maybe I’m willing to admit that I don’t really trust my instincts all that much. I mean, I’ve dated some real losers. And I’m not entirely confident that I can choose a winner (contrary to the name of this blog, I’m not actually always right – I just like to pretend I am). So I’m doing some soul searching (what, it’s Monday), and I’m throwing it out to anyone who’s reading. Any advice? Do you think this is normal behavior? Any words of wisdom for the relationship spaz? I promise to at least read what you’re going to say.
Anyway, enough of that (God, I just had such a girl moment…ugh). Um, what else is going on? Oh, met a HMMM, CUTE guy this weekend (my nothing time was destroyed by good weather), and he called already. We’re having dinner this week. Guy #1 and Guy #2 are continuing to call. I feel bad for Guy #1 since he was a firm HMMM, CUTE guy that I’m just not comfortable dating after all the drama. Only he doesn’t know why I’m not returning his calls. And Guy #2 – who is a firm NO FUCKING WAY guy – is still calling, asking if I hate him, and begging me to meet with him so he can apologize. What a moron.
Happy Monday everybody.
Note: This is not going to turn into a whole ‘I’m really hot’ thing, because that’s not for me to say. A woman’s looks always come down to personal taste. Plus, I think it’s weird when someone insists they’re gorgeous but won’t give you a picture to verify it – which I won’t. Ever. (Let’s keep this anonymous, OK?)
Only I’m not so good at relationships. This doesn’t make sense for lots of reasons, not the least of which is that I like guys. I think they’re fun. And I know relationships (real, long-term, working relationships) can exist. I’ve seen them. So there’s no reason for me to have issues. But I do. Big time.
I’ve found that as the years go by, I tend to run from commitment. Not that I’m going to turn this into a psychological examination of myself (I hope), but let’s just say I’ve been meeting a lot of guys lately – I just got out of yet another non-interesting ‘relationship’ – and I’ve been faced with my own limitations. In other words, my friends (and mom) have been very free with their opinions of late.
So I’ve started to pay more attention to my thought process. And it all starts with my ranking system. This is, basically, how I categorize guys upon meeting them. All guys fall into one of three categories. They are:
NO FUCKING WAY. These are the guys who either a) just aren’t attractive to me, or b) say or do something that totally turns me off. These guys will at best get a few minutes of conversation before my friends and I move on. And rarely are they even future friend material. Most guys fall into this category. Red Sox fans belong here.
HMMM, CUTE. These guys fall into my adorable range. In other words, they’re attractive, can hold their own in a conversation, and they have something interesting going on. Maybe something comes of it and maybe something doesn’t, but no matter what they never last long. A few weeks to a couple of months at the most. And I know this right off the bat. I don’t know how, but I just know if there’s not real future there. This is not a guy I will ever introduce to my family. Bad boys fall into this category.
YES, PLEASE. THANK YOU. These are the guys that kind of knock my socks off. Generally really good looking, they have their lives together and don’t need me. They may want me, but they don’t need me. They’re just as smart if not smarter than I am, have great senses of humor, and confidence to spare. These are the guys that I could potentially fall for. That is, if I weren’t me. As it stands now, these guys rarely last longer than the HMMM, CUTE guys do.
Why? Because I’m a runner.
I run from men. All men (eventually). Running from the HMMM, CUTE guys is easy. They were never meant to last long anyway. They were entertainment. But they’re also safe and don’t freak me out as easily. Which is why they’ve been known to last as long (if not longer) than the YES, PLEASE. THANK YOU guys.
This doesn’t make sense, I know. The YES, PLEASE. THANK YOU guys are the keepers. They’re the ones that should (ideally) work out. Because – outside of the little quirks that we all have – they’re pretty perfect. They treat me well, have their shit together, and push my buttons (in a good way). But I always wuss out with them. I’m in danger of ending up in an actual relationship with them, not my typical ‘relationship.’ And that scares me. Because I don’t like relationships.
You see, I’m not a big fan of change. And relationships force me to change. I like my life as it is. I’m comfortable. I suck at change. So while I can change things in the short term (the ‘dating’ stage), I’m not so good at it in the long term. The long term requires a new routine; the thought of which creeps me out. So the YES, PLEASE. THANK YOU guys generally don’t last long. I’m threatened by them.
Like I said, I’m a freak.
Unfortunately, I’m starting to piss people off with this gun-shy behavior – my mother, for one (although she’s trying to pretend my commitment issues don’t bother her, which is actually kind of cute). My friends have taken to teasing me (and telling me they’ll take care of me in my old age). And even the people I work with (I work with a lot of women) have started questioning me when I mention that’s I’m no longer seeing (insert name of current guy here). Apparently ‘I just didn’t get around to ever calling him back/I told him I was too busy for a relationship right now’ aren’t good reasons. Who knew?
So I’ve been thinking. And now I’m torturing you with my ponderings. Am I just young and stupid? Have I simply not met the right person? Will I actually know it if/when I do meet the right person (as so many people are fond of telling me)? Or, could I just not be the settling down type? I don’t know.
I guess maybe I’m willing to admit that I don’t really trust my instincts all that much. I mean, I’ve dated some real losers. And I’m not entirely confident that I can choose a winner (contrary to the name of this blog, I’m not actually always right – I just like to pretend I am). So I’m doing some soul searching (what, it’s Monday), and I’m throwing it out to anyone who’s reading. Any advice? Do you think this is normal behavior? Any words of wisdom for the relationship spaz? I promise to at least read what you’re going to say.
Anyway, enough of that (God, I just had such a girl moment…ugh). Um, what else is going on? Oh, met a HMMM, CUTE guy this weekend (my nothing time was destroyed by good weather), and he called already. We’re having dinner this week. Guy #1 and Guy #2 are continuing to call. I feel bad for Guy #1 since he was a firm HMMM, CUTE guy that I’m just not comfortable dating after all the drama. Only he doesn’t know why I’m not returning his calls. And Guy #2 – who is a firm NO FUCKING WAY guy – is still calling, asking if I hate him, and begging me to meet with him so he can apologize. What a moron.
Happy Monday everybody.
Friday, March 23, 2007
My Homage to Office Space
Michael: Peter, you’re in deep shit. You were supposed to come in on Saturday. What were you doing?
Peter: Michael, I did nothing. I did absolutely nothing, and it was everything that I thought it could be.
Fuck yeah.
That, my friends, is one of my favorite lines from any movie. Ever. And the movie I’m referring to is…Office Space – I’m assuming you had that one before I gave it to you (I have faith in my readers).
I love Office Space. Not only is it fucking genius, but it’s both inspirational and comforting to anyone who works in an office. Because it says that you’re not the only one who’s miserable. You’re not the only one whose boss is driving you nuts. And that’s an important message my friends. Especially this week (for me at least – fuck I need a weekend).
So in honor of Office Space, and Peter (my hero), I am going to pay homage to the above quote. I am going to do nothing. On Saturday.
That’s right, nothing. It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, and I’m going to do what I always feel like doing when it’s raining – be as lazy as is humanly possible. I won’t feel guilty about not going outside to be productive and social (it will be raining after all), and I won’t be guilted into doing anything either (I have no plans and have an ironclad lie of ‘I’m not feeling well’ if anyone calls). I’m ready.
It will be perfect – a day of nothing. Everything I thought it could be.
I even have a (sort of) plan for my nothing day. Want to hear it? (Just nod your head.) Well, I can’t just give it all to you – ask something and I’ll answer.
Um, Redhead (yes, I’m really doing this – go with it): Are you going to sleep late? You bet. Get out of your pajamas? Nope. Answer the phone? Fuck no. Watch some basketball? Yup. Read a book? Probably. Watch a movie? If I feel like it. Take a nap? I’d be shocked if I didn’t. Order in Chinese food? Just try and stop me.
OK, now stop! We’re done. There’s not point in asking more questions – we’ve covered everything that I would potentially do. That’s the joy of the day of nothing. I’m actually going to accomplish nothing. Do nothing. Experience nothing (except rest – I will experience rest).
I have a pint of Haagen Dazs coffee ice cream in my freezer. A bunch of books I’ve been meaning to read. A huge bed that I don’t spend nearly enough time in. And a big, cushy chair right by a window. I have two TVs, a DVD player, and some yummy smelling bubble bath in case I decide to pamper myself.
I’m going to revel in my laziness.
And I know I’m special because of it. No, hear me out. I am. Because you see, most people aren’t truly lazy enough to do nothing for an entire day. Hell, most people have probably tried and failed. It’s not easy. But don’t worry – I can do it. I don’t have any kids. I don’t have a dog that needs to be walked – I have a cat who hides in my closet every time I open the door (she’s a freak). I don’t even have a roommate to bitch at me for sitting around the apartment all day. That’s right. I have no real responsibilities. (Which would be sad if I didn’t enjoy it so much.) So I’m going to take advantage.
I’VE EARNED THIS. (Probably we all have, but as usual let’s keep this all about me.) I get up at the crack of dawn every day. I work crazy hours. I bring work home every night. I exercise even when I don’t want to (and I never want to). And I practically live on Cheerios. PLUS, I’ve been going out three or more nights a week for the past few weeks, and I hate that. I need my alone time and I haven’t been getting it. So I’m cranky. I need a break. Just one day. For me.
Call me what you want (antisocial my ass) – I don’t care. I deserve this. And I will not be talked out of it (unless it’s nice out – please rain, please rain, please rain).
So, in honor of Office Space, a film that celebrates me and my plans, I’ll end this post with a few more Peter words of wisdom.
Have a good weekend everyone; try not to do too much.
Peter: The thing is, Bob, it's not that I'm lazy, it's that I just don't care.
Bob 1: Don't... don't care?
Peter: It's a problem of motivation, all right? Now if I work my ass off and Initech ships a few extra units, I don't see another dime; so where's the motivation? And here's something else, Bob: I have eight different bosses right now.
Bob 2: I beg your pardon?
Peter: Eight bosses.
Bob 2: Eight?
Peter: Eight, Bob. So that means that when I make a mistake, I have eight different people coming by to tell me about it. That's my only real motivation is not to be hassled; that, and the fear of losing my job. But you know, Bob, that will only make someone work just hard enough not to get fired.
Peter: What would you do if you had a million dollars?
Lawrence: I'll tell you what I'd do, man: two chicks at the same time, man.
Peter: That's it? If you had a million dollars, you'd do two chicks at the same time?
Lawrence: Damn straight. I always wanted to do that, man. And I think if I were a millionaire I could hook that up, too; 'cause chicks dig dudes with money.
Peter: Well, not all chicks.
Lawrence: Well, the type of chicks that'd double up on a dude like me do.
Peter: Good point.
Lawrence: Well, what about you now? what would you do?
Peter: Besides two chicks at the same time?
Lawrence: Well, yeah.
Peter: Nothing.
Lawrence: Nothing, huh?
Peter: I would relax... I would sit on my ass all day... I would do nothing.
Lawrence: Well, you don't need a million dollars to do nothing, man. Take a look at my cousin: he's broke, don't do shit.
Peter: I uh, I don't like my job, and, uh, I don't think I'm gonna go anymore.
Joanna: You're just not gonna go?
Peter: Yeah.
Joanna: Won't you get fired?
Peter: I don't know, but I really don't like it, and, uh, I'm not gonna go.
Joanna: So you're gonna quit?
Peter: Nuh-uh. Not really. Uh... I'm just gonna stop going.
Joanna: When did you decide all that?
Peter: About an hour ago.
Joanna: Oh, really? About an hour ago... so you're gonna get another job?
Peter: I don't think I'd like another job.
Joanna: Well, what are you going to do about money and bills and...
Peter: You know, I've never really liked paying bills. I don't think I'm gonna do that, either.
Peter: Michael, I did nothing. I did absolutely nothing, and it was everything that I thought it could be.
Fuck yeah.
That, my friends, is one of my favorite lines from any movie. Ever. And the movie I’m referring to is…Office Space – I’m assuming you had that one before I gave it to you (I have faith in my readers).
I love Office Space. Not only is it fucking genius, but it’s both inspirational and comforting to anyone who works in an office. Because it says that you’re not the only one who’s miserable. You’re not the only one whose boss is driving you nuts. And that’s an important message my friends. Especially this week (for me at least – fuck I need a weekend).
So in honor of Office Space, and Peter (my hero), I am going to pay homage to the above quote. I am going to do nothing. On Saturday.
That’s right, nothing. It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, and I’m going to do what I always feel like doing when it’s raining – be as lazy as is humanly possible. I won’t feel guilty about not going outside to be productive and social (it will be raining after all), and I won’t be guilted into doing anything either (I have no plans and have an ironclad lie of ‘I’m not feeling well’ if anyone calls). I’m ready.
It will be perfect – a day of nothing. Everything I thought it could be.
I even have a (sort of) plan for my nothing day. Want to hear it? (Just nod your head.) Well, I can’t just give it all to you – ask something and I’ll answer.
Um, Redhead (yes, I’m really doing this – go with it): Are you going to sleep late? You bet. Get out of your pajamas? Nope. Answer the phone? Fuck no. Watch some basketball? Yup. Read a book? Probably. Watch a movie? If I feel like it. Take a nap? I’d be shocked if I didn’t. Order in Chinese food? Just try and stop me.
OK, now stop! We’re done. There’s not point in asking more questions – we’ve covered everything that I would potentially do. That’s the joy of the day of nothing. I’m actually going to accomplish nothing. Do nothing. Experience nothing (except rest – I will experience rest).
I have a pint of Haagen Dazs coffee ice cream in my freezer. A bunch of books I’ve been meaning to read. A huge bed that I don’t spend nearly enough time in. And a big, cushy chair right by a window. I have two TVs, a DVD player, and some yummy smelling bubble bath in case I decide to pamper myself.
I’m going to revel in my laziness.
And I know I’m special because of it. No, hear me out. I am. Because you see, most people aren’t truly lazy enough to do nothing for an entire day. Hell, most people have probably tried and failed. It’s not easy. But don’t worry – I can do it. I don’t have any kids. I don’t have a dog that needs to be walked – I have a cat who hides in my closet every time I open the door (she’s a freak). I don’t even have a roommate to bitch at me for sitting around the apartment all day. That’s right. I have no real responsibilities. (Which would be sad if I didn’t enjoy it so much.) So I’m going to take advantage.
I’VE EARNED THIS. (Probably we all have, but as usual let’s keep this all about me.) I get up at the crack of dawn every day. I work crazy hours. I bring work home every night. I exercise even when I don’t want to (and I never want to). And I practically live on Cheerios. PLUS, I’ve been going out three or more nights a week for the past few weeks, and I hate that. I need my alone time and I haven’t been getting it. So I’m cranky. I need a break. Just one day. For me.
Call me what you want (antisocial my ass) – I don’t care. I deserve this. And I will not be talked out of it (unless it’s nice out – please rain, please rain, please rain).
So, in honor of Office Space, a film that celebrates me and my plans, I’ll end this post with a few more Peter words of wisdom.
Have a good weekend everyone; try not to do too much.
Peter: The thing is, Bob, it's not that I'm lazy, it's that I just don't care.
Bob 1: Don't... don't care?
Peter: It's a problem of motivation, all right? Now if I work my ass off and Initech ships a few extra units, I don't see another dime; so where's the motivation? And here's something else, Bob: I have eight different bosses right now.
Bob 2: I beg your pardon?
Peter: Eight bosses.
Bob 2: Eight?
Peter: Eight, Bob. So that means that when I make a mistake, I have eight different people coming by to tell me about it. That's my only real motivation is not to be hassled; that, and the fear of losing my job. But you know, Bob, that will only make someone work just hard enough not to get fired.
Peter: What would you do if you had a million dollars?
Lawrence: I'll tell you what I'd do, man: two chicks at the same time, man.
Peter: That's it? If you had a million dollars, you'd do two chicks at the same time?
Lawrence: Damn straight. I always wanted to do that, man. And I think if I were a millionaire I could hook that up, too; 'cause chicks dig dudes with money.
Peter: Well, not all chicks.
Lawrence: Well, the type of chicks that'd double up on a dude like me do.
Peter: Good point.
Lawrence: Well, what about you now? what would you do?
Peter: Besides two chicks at the same time?
Lawrence: Well, yeah.
Peter: Nothing.
Lawrence: Nothing, huh?
Peter: I would relax... I would sit on my ass all day... I would do nothing.
Lawrence: Well, you don't need a million dollars to do nothing, man. Take a look at my cousin: he's broke, don't do shit.
Peter: I uh, I don't like my job, and, uh, I don't think I'm gonna go anymore.
Joanna: You're just not gonna go?
Peter: Yeah.
Joanna: Won't you get fired?
Peter: I don't know, but I really don't like it, and, uh, I'm not gonna go.
Joanna: So you're gonna quit?
Peter: Nuh-uh. Not really. Uh... I'm just gonna stop going.
Joanna: When did you decide all that?
Peter: About an hour ago.
Joanna: Oh, really? About an hour ago... so you're gonna get another job?
Peter: I don't think I'd like another job.
Joanna: Well, what are you going to do about money and bills and...
Peter: You know, I've never really liked paying bills. I don't think I'm gonna do that, either.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
One Girl’s Opinion
Someone emailed me this list of Rules Guys Wish Girls Knew yesterday. I guess he thought I might find it interesting after my Guy Rules post. And I did. In fact, I liked it so much that I copied and pasted it below. Because I (of course) have thoughts and opinions that I want to share. So here is the list, with my replies, since I now – as a girl – know what guys wish I knew.
(Note: Most of the points are here, but I deleted a few that were just too dumb to waste my time on. Honestly, who cares that guys don’t know the difference between pink and peach?)
Anyway, here’s one girl’s reactions to the rules:
1. If you think you’re fat, you probably are. Don’t ask us. We refuse to answer.
Redhead: I never ask this question on principle, because it’s completely pointless. I’ll keep my mouth shut if you’ll keep yours shut.
2. Learn to work the toilet seat. If it’s up, put it down.
Redhead: I’m inclined to agree. Is this seriously as much of an issue as it’s made out to be?
3. Don’t cut your hair. Ever. Long hair is always more attractive than short hair. One of the big reasons guys fear getting married is that married women always cut their hair, and by then you’re stuck with her.
Redhead: N/A. For as long as I’ve had a say, my hair has always been long. And it always will be – security blanket.
4. Birthdays, Valentines, and Anniversaries are not quests to see if we can find the perfect present yet again!
Redhead: No pressure – I find getting the perfect present stressful, too. But remember to at least wish me a fucking happy birthday.
5. If you ask a question you don’t want an answer to, expect an answer you don’t want to hear.
Redhead: Fair enough.
6. Sometimes, we’re not thinking about you. Live with it.
Redhead: Sometimes I’m not thinking about you either.
7. Don’t ask us what we’re thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as navel lint, the shotgun formation and monster trucks.
Redhead: Generally, if I find your answer uninteresting, I won’t ask a follow-up. So just fucking ANSWER and stop being so mysterious about it.
8. Sunday sports. It’s like the full moon or the changing of the tides. Let it be.
Redhead: Trust me, I’m right there with ya.
9. Shopping is not a sport, and no, we’re never going to think of it that way.
Redhead: I hate shopping and only do it when necessary. I want to get out of there just as badly as you do.
10. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine. Really.
Redhead: I’m never going to ask your opinion on what I should wear. Just tell me I look nice when I’m ready (without prompting) and we’ll be fine.
11. You have enough clothes.
Redhead: There’s no such thing. I hate to shop and even I know that.
12. You have too many shoes.
Redhead: That’s blasphemy.
13. Crying is blackmail.
Redhead: Crying is awkward and should only be done during a life crisis (death, serious illness) or during a movie/reading a good book – then it doesn’t count.
14. Your ex-boyfriend is an idiot.
Redhead: Agreed.
15. Ask for what you want. Let’s be clear on this one: Subtle hints don’t work. Strong hints don’t work. Really obvious hints don’t work. Just say what the heck you want!
Redhead: Fine, but the same goes for you.
16. No, we don’t know what day it is. We never will. Mark anniversaries on a calendar.
Redhead: Bite me. YOU mark them on a calendar.
17. Yes, peeing standing up is more difficult. We’re bound to miss sometimes.
Redhead: Just so long as you clean up after, I couldn’t care less.
18. Most guys own three pairs of shoes. What makes you think we’d be any good at choosing which pair, out of thirty, would look good with our dress?
Redhead: Again, there’s no way in hell I’d ask for your help on that.
19. Yes and No are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.
Redhead: Yes.
20. Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That’s what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.
Redhead: Fuck you. After you offer up suggestions (which are appreciated), just sit there and don’t say anything. Let us vent and don’t walk away. That’s all that’s required of you.
21. A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem. See a doctor.
Redhead: No shit. Jesus.
22. Foreign films are best left for the foreigners.
Redhead: Most of the time that’s true, but there are some cool ones out there. But I can watch them alone.
23. Check your oil.
Redhead: Good God, I don’t drive. Running out of oil would be a best case scenario if I got behind the wheel.
24. Don’t fake it. We’d rather be ineffective than deceived.
Redhead: Yes, but sometimes it’s just not going to happen and you won’t quit. We get tired and want to go to sleep.
25. It is neither in your best interest nor ours to take the quiz together.
Redhead: What quiz?
26. No, it doesn’t matter which quiz.
Redhead: Um. OK.
27. Anything we said six months ago is inadmissible in an argument. All comments become null and void after seven days.
Redhead: Not a problem, I don’t remember what you said an hour ago.
28. If you won’t dress like the Victoria’s Secret girls, don’t expect us to act like soap opera guys.
Redhead: What if I’m willing to dress like the Victoria’s Secret girls?
29. If something we said can be interpreted two ways, and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one.
Redhead: Sounds good to me.
30. Let us look! We’re going to look anyway, it’s genetic. Besides, if we’re not touching, what’s the problem?
Redhead: Not a problem as long as I can look too.
31. Don’t rub the lamp if you don’t want the genie to come out.
Redhead: Thanks Yoda.
32. You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done, not both.
Redhead: Pussy.
33. Whenever possible, please say whatever you have to during commercials.
Redhead: Hey, that goes for you too.
34. Christopher Columbus didn’t need directions, and neither do we.
Redhead: Christopher Columbus got lost and ended up on the wrong side of the world, jackass.
35. Women wearing Wonder-Bras and low-cut blouses lose their right to complain about having their boobs stared at.
Redhead: Fair enough, but what about the women who don’t NEED the Wonder-Bras or low-cut blouses. Are they allowed to complain about being stared at?
36. More women should wear Wonder-Bras and low-cut blouses. We like staring at boobs.
Redhead: No shit Sherlock.
37. The relationship is never going to be like it was the first two months we were going out.
Redhead: Thank God. I need to stand vertically and get some work done.
38. Beer is as exciting for us as handbags are for you.
Redhead: And it’s less expensive.
39. We’re not mind readers and we never will be. Our lack of mind-reading ability is not proof of how little we care about you.
Redhead: I know, I know. But do you have to be such morons sometimes?
40. If we ask what’s wrong and you say “nothing”, we will act like nothing’s wrong. We know you’re lying, but it’s just not worth the hassle.
Redhead: I…have no defense against that. But I still reserve the right to say it and then remain pissed.
41. If we hear from an old girlfriend, we will briefly fantasize about having sex with her. But don’t worry, the fantasy includes you and her, together.
Redhead: Well then!
(Note: Most of the points are here, but I deleted a few that were just too dumb to waste my time on. Honestly, who cares that guys don’t know the difference between pink and peach?)
Anyway, here’s one girl’s reactions to the rules:
1. If you think you’re fat, you probably are. Don’t ask us. We refuse to answer.
Redhead: I never ask this question on principle, because it’s completely pointless. I’ll keep my mouth shut if you’ll keep yours shut.
2. Learn to work the toilet seat. If it’s up, put it down.
Redhead: I’m inclined to agree. Is this seriously as much of an issue as it’s made out to be?
3. Don’t cut your hair. Ever. Long hair is always more attractive than short hair. One of the big reasons guys fear getting married is that married women always cut their hair, and by then you’re stuck with her.
Redhead: N/A. For as long as I’ve had a say, my hair has always been long. And it always will be – security blanket.
4. Birthdays, Valentines, and Anniversaries are not quests to see if we can find the perfect present yet again!
Redhead: No pressure – I find getting the perfect present stressful, too. But remember to at least wish me a fucking happy birthday.
5. If you ask a question you don’t want an answer to, expect an answer you don’t want to hear.
Redhead: Fair enough.
6. Sometimes, we’re not thinking about you. Live with it.
Redhead: Sometimes I’m not thinking about you either.
7. Don’t ask us what we’re thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as navel lint, the shotgun formation and monster trucks.
Redhead: Generally, if I find your answer uninteresting, I won’t ask a follow-up. So just fucking ANSWER and stop being so mysterious about it.
8. Sunday sports. It’s like the full moon or the changing of the tides. Let it be.
Redhead: Trust me, I’m right there with ya.
9. Shopping is not a sport, and no, we’re never going to think of it that way.
Redhead: I hate shopping and only do it when necessary. I want to get out of there just as badly as you do.
10. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine. Really.
Redhead: I’m never going to ask your opinion on what I should wear. Just tell me I look nice when I’m ready (without prompting) and we’ll be fine.
11. You have enough clothes.
Redhead: There’s no such thing. I hate to shop and even I know that.
12. You have too many shoes.
Redhead: That’s blasphemy.
13. Crying is blackmail.
Redhead: Crying is awkward and should only be done during a life crisis (death, serious illness) or during a movie/reading a good book – then it doesn’t count.
14. Your ex-boyfriend is an idiot.
Redhead: Agreed.
15. Ask for what you want. Let’s be clear on this one: Subtle hints don’t work. Strong hints don’t work. Really obvious hints don’t work. Just say what the heck you want!
Redhead: Fine, but the same goes for you.
16. No, we don’t know what day it is. We never will. Mark anniversaries on a calendar.
Redhead: Bite me. YOU mark them on a calendar.
17. Yes, peeing standing up is more difficult. We’re bound to miss sometimes.
Redhead: Just so long as you clean up after, I couldn’t care less.
18. Most guys own three pairs of shoes. What makes you think we’d be any good at choosing which pair, out of thirty, would look good with our dress?
Redhead: Again, there’s no way in hell I’d ask for your help on that.
19. Yes and No are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.
Redhead: Yes.
20. Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That’s what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.
Redhead: Fuck you. After you offer up suggestions (which are appreciated), just sit there and don’t say anything. Let us vent and don’t walk away. That’s all that’s required of you.
21. A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem. See a doctor.
Redhead: No shit. Jesus.
22. Foreign films are best left for the foreigners.
Redhead: Most of the time that’s true, but there are some cool ones out there. But I can watch them alone.
23. Check your oil.
Redhead: Good God, I don’t drive. Running out of oil would be a best case scenario if I got behind the wheel.
24. Don’t fake it. We’d rather be ineffective than deceived.
Redhead: Yes, but sometimes it’s just not going to happen and you won’t quit. We get tired and want to go to sleep.
25. It is neither in your best interest nor ours to take the quiz together.
Redhead: What quiz?
26. No, it doesn’t matter which quiz.
Redhead: Um. OK.
27. Anything we said six months ago is inadmissible in an argument. All comments become null and void after seven days.
Redhead: Not a problem, I don’t remember what you said an hour ago.
28. If you won’t dress like the Victoria’s Secret girls, don’t expect us to act like soap opera guys.
Redhead: What if I’m willing to dress like the Victoria’s Secret girls?
29. If something we said can be interpreted two ways, and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one.
Redhead: Sounds good to me.
30. Let us look! We’re going to look anyway, it’s genetic. Besides, if we’re not touching, what’s the problem?
Redhead: Not a problem as long as I can look too.
31. Don’t rub the lamp if you don’t want the genie to come out.
Redhead: Thanks Yoda.
32. You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done, not both.
Redhead: Pussy.
33. Whenever possible, please say whatever you have to during commercials.
Redhead: Hey, that goes for you too.
34. Christopher Columbus didn’t need directions, and neither do we.
Redhead: Christopher Columbus got lost and ended up on the wrong side of the world, jackass.
35. Women wearing Wonder-Bras and low-cut blouses lose their right to complain about having their boobs stared at.
Redhead: Fair enough, but what about the women who don’t NEED the Wonder-Bras or low-cut blouses. Are they allowed to complain about being stared at?
36. More women should wear Wonder-Bras and low-cut blouses. We like staring at boobs.
Redhead: No shit Sherlock.
37. The relationship is never going to be like it was the first two months we were going out.
Redhead: Thank God. I need to stand vertically and get some work done.
38. Beer is as exciting for us as handbags are for you.
Redhead: And it’s less expensive.
39. We’re not mind readers and we never will be. Our lack of mind-reading ability is not proof of how little we care about you.
Redhead: I know, I know. But do you have to be such morons sometimes?
40. If we ask what’s wrong and you say “nothing”, we will act like nothing’s wrong. We know you’re lying, but it’s just not worth the hassle.
Redhead: I…have no defense against that. But I still reserve the right to say it and then remain pissed.
41. If we hear from an old girlfriend, we will briefly fantasize about having sex with her. But don’t worry, the fantasy includes you and her, together.
Redhead: Well then!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
The Guy Rules
Quick follow up on my St. Patty’s Day post – yes, I heard from both Guy #1 and Guy #2 again on Monday. No, I didn’t answer my phone, and no I don’t intend to call either of them back. Oh, and yes, Guy #2 is a complete douchebag who screwed over his friend.
However, the experience did get me thinking (not about myself – I’ve had enough introspection to last me a while, thanks). No, it got me thinking about the rules. Not girl rules – I already know those – but about guy rules. Because clearly Guy #2 broke a huge one when he cock-blocked (can’t believe I just used that in a sentence) his friend and then made a move on me. I get that. I also get that the poor treatment of his buddy is considered way worse (to other guys) than the whole cheating on his girlfriend thing. Fine.
But what about other things – other similar type things? What are the guy rules on, say, dating a friend’s ex? Is that better or worse than dating a buddy’s sister? These questions need answers.
So I came up with some hypotheticals, and I jotted them down below. Take a look and give me some feedback on where things fall in the guy rulebook. Tell me where things stand on a scale from 1 to 10 – 10 being really bad and totally against all guy rules, and 1 being no big deal. (And for any girls reading, what’s your take on all this?)
-Picking up a girl your buddy has been hitting on – but doing it in front of him
-Picking up a girl your buddy has been hitting on – but doing it behind his back
-Letting a girl your buddy likes (but isn’t dating) pick you up
-Dating a buddy’s ex
-Remaining friends with a buddy’s ex
-Getting with a girl that your buddy slept with but never dated
-Dating a buddy’s sister (I think I already know the answer to this one, and let me just say it’s pissed me off for years)
-Asking for details about your buddy’s sex life (I know it’s cool with women, but I’ve never gotten a straight answer from a guy about this one)
-Saying something negative about your buddy’s girlfriend/wife – even when she’s a complete bitch and/or ugly
-Telling your buddy’s girlfriend/wife that he cheated on her
-Telling YOUR girlfriend/wife about your buddy cheating on HIS girlfriend/wife
-Not telling your buddy about HIS girlfriend/wife cheating on him
-Blowing off plans with your buddy for a girl
-Ripping on your buddy’s sports teams – how far is too far (or is there no too far)?
And this one just because I’m curious – it doesn’t involve guy friends, but I really need to know:
-Hitting on your girlfriend/wife’s friend (note: this one have happened to me several times and it creeps me out – has this ever actually worked? When did guys start thinking this was a good idea?)
OK, those are all I can come up with off the top of my head, but I’m sure there are more. Feel free to add other rules or opinions in the comments section.
However, the experience did get me thinking (not about myself – I’ve had enough introspection to last me a while, thanks). No, it got me thinking about the rules. Not girl rules – I already know those – but about guy rules. Because clearly Guy #2 broke a huge one when he cock-blocked (can’t believe I just used that in a sentence) his friend and then made a move on me. I get that. I also get that the poor treatment of his buddy is considered way worse (to other guys) than the whole cheating on his girlfriend thing. Fine.
But what about other things – other similar type things? What are the guy rules on, say, dating a friend’s ex? Is that better or worse than dating a buddy’s sister? These questions need answers.
So I came up with some hypotheticals, and I jotted them down below. Take a look and give me some feedback on where things fall in the guy rulebook. Tell me where things stand on a scale from 1 to 10 – 10 being really bad and totally against all guy rules, and 1 being no big deal. (And for any girls reading, what’s your take on all this?)
-Picking up a girl your buddy has been hitting on – but doing it in front of him
-Picking up a girl your buddy has been hitting on – but doing it behind his back
-Letting a girl your buddy likes (but isn’t dating) pick you up
-Dating a buddy’s ex
-Remaining friends with a buddy’s ex
-Getting with a girl that your buddy slept with but never dated
-Dating a buddy’s sister (I think I already know the answer to this one, and let me just say it’s pissed me off for years)
-Asking for details about your buddy’s sex life (I know it’s cool with women, but I’ve never gotten a straight answer from a guy about this one)
-Saying something negative about your buddy’s girlfriend/wife – even when she’s a complete bitch and/or ugly
-Telling your buddy’s girlfriend/wife that he cheated on her
-Telling YOUR girlfriend/wife about your buddy cheating on HIS girlfriend/wife
-Not telling your buddy about HIS girlfriend/wife cheating on him
-Blowing off plans with your buddy for a girl
-Ripping on your buddy’s sports teams – how far is too far (or is there no too far)?
And this one just because I’m curious – it doesn’t involve guy friends, but I really need to know:
-Hitting on your girlfriend/wife’s friend (note: this one have happened to me several times and it creeps me out – has this ever actually worked? When did guys start thinking this was a good idea?)
OK, those are all I can come up with off the top of my head, but I’m sure there are more. Feel free to add other rules or opinions in the comments section.
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