Men Are Stupid: Review of

Lately, I’ve felt the need to find more reasons to laugh. Unfortunately, this quest has led me to hit the web, further fueling my internet addiction. I’ve come to terms with my technological dependency and believe that if it makes me smile, it’s all good. Back to why I needed to find more reasons to laugh. It can be summed up in three little words: men are stupid. This isn’t some epiphany that I’m just now stumbling upon; I’ve known this for years. Just recently however, it’s been reaffirmed.

A couple of days ago, I was on Facebook, scrolling through funny pictures from other websites that always make me laugh, I ran across a picture branded with the website I Dated That Douche (  Naturally, I had to Google the website and I’ve been obsessed with it ever since I found it. It’s actually an ingenious website; after all, who hasn’t dated a jerk/cad/scumbag?

I ran across a terrific post on the website entitled Ignore Mode (here is the link for the article, it’s a must read for any woman:!/2012/07/ignore-mode-douche.html) that is simply marvelous. I love it when I read an article that embodies everything that I think/feel/want to scream from the top of a building. It makes me feel slightly less alienated. Think about it: if every woman who has ever sent a man a text message or called with no response or call back who later found it unobjectionable to contact them by text with a short, “Hey, what’s up?” banded together, we could wreak some serious havoc. Evidently, this is an epidemic, across the board. Why is it that men think it’s alright for them to respond days or, in my case, even a week or more later? In my opinion, it’s simply bad manners and laziness combined.  Women respond to their friends when they call or text; I think this is because we know how irate we get when we call or text someone and don’t receive a response. I think it’s also because we have way more sense than men. I also think it has something to do with a man’s chromosome; think about it: one of their chromosomes is broken. With that affliction must come stupidity.  I’m not making a case for their stupidity by any means.  Indeed, I believe that with such a biological deficiency, over time, men should rise above it.

It seems to me however, that men are becoming more and more stupid and thoughtless.  I’ve done my research and have found that men in their thirties, with a good job, a love of wine, cooking and music, who are not narcisists and actually want to court a woman are nearly nonexistent. Indeed, in my search I have found only one man that fits the majority of those criteria. Sadly, he fell into the category that I call Charming Cad. The Charming Cad is an expert at game playing, will quickly spout any lines that he thinks you want to hear, is marvelously charming and knows how to sell himself in the most positive of light. He will avoid conflict at any cost and will quickly shut down if you try to call him out on any inconsistencies in his story or background. All in all, the Charming Cad is someone with whom you can have a fantastic time, and learn a lot about wine and cooking, but will also cause your hair to prematurely turn grey because you’ll never really know where you stand with him. He’s famous for dropping off the face of the earth, taking a week to respond to a text message and expecting you to fit into his life on his terms. All in all it’s a fun yet incredibly annoying, exasperating experience.

I’ve often felt like saying this to Charming Cads.

The website I Dated That Douche is a wonderful outlet for the frustration that stems from affiliating yourself with a Charming Cad (or any other category of man under the sun).  Its comforting to know that there are other clever women who have taken negative dating experiences and have used them to create funny stories and even more funny captioned photos. Spend five minutes on this website when you’re irritated by the actions (or lack thereof) of the man in your life (soon to no longer be in your life) and you’ll be smiling and nodding your head in agreement with every captioned picture you come across.  Enjoy!


Identity: Maintenance and Change

As I’m writing this, I’m realizing that I haven’t written anything since mid-June. I blame this partially on the fact that other than work, going to the gym and sweating profusely in the garden in God-awful Virginia summer heat, not much else has been going on in life. I firmly believe that the other reason I haven’t written much in the past few weeks is due to the fact that I’ve entangled myself again with someone I used to date.  I find myself in a tangled struggle of identity: am I the fiercely independent, albeit somewhat selfish (focusing only on what makes me happy), cultivator of the earth, writing machine? Or, am I the far too giving, adoring, somewhat obsessive (and thus, stuck in my head constantly analyzing) girl who throws herself face first into another person and, in the process loses who she is?

I realize now that I have always had an identity war of sorts when it comes to time vested with another person.  I think part of it comes from my need to please others; and for whatever reason, it has never occurred to me that I could please a partner just by being who I am: my true self. I stumble upon that epiphany as I write this and it blows my mind that I’ve never had that thought before.  I don’t believe that I morph into this neurotic woman on purpose; I think it just…happens. For whatever reason, I seem to lose a bit of myself if another person is in my life. I think I pour so much of the caring side of me that the selfish side loses out.

I am trying desperately to continue to do the things that make me happy and to strike a balance between the self-pleasing independent part of me with the people pleaser who lives in me. I’m not sure how people achieve this balance and maintain healthy relationships. But, I am an all-or-nothing type of girl.  And, come to think of it, I’m not entirely sure that I’ve ever maintained what would be considered a healthy relationship.

I’m making a promise to myself here and now (in writing with witnesses) to make an effort to continue to make myself happy. To do the things that bring a smile to my face: cook, garden, write, workout. And anything else that would please me: cut my hair the way I want it even if I second (and third and fourth and fifth) guess it, color it if it pleases me, acquire a new tattoo, step outside of the box and challenge myself, especially on days when I’m feeling bored, stuck or lost. To make a conscious effort not to over-analyze, to listen to my gut, to call out bullshit when I see it. The first step is realizing your faults and calling yourself out on them; now that I’m conscious of my pitfalls, I’m hopefully that I can maintain me and possibly let someone else in at the same time.