Cut the Bullshit…or, Stop Taking in Stray Dogs

At some point in everyone’s life, they must reassess and cut the bullshit. Sometimes, we need to get rid of the people that simply do not add quality to our lives. Recently, along with dropping weight, I decided it was time to drop the extraneous people who I’ve allowed into my life that simply do not add anything of merit. This is something that’s hard for me, and I think, is hard in general for most people. Thing is, I usually don’t (unless you’ve done something to warrant it) want to be seen as a bitch. I want people to think the best of me and have only positive things to say when I come to mind. I never like to disappoint. Maybe it’s because I’m a girl, and generally speaking (though it isn’t always the case) we’re taught that we must ‘be nice’.

Lucky for me, I could think only of one person who I’ve allowed into my life that needed to be extricated. He’s the kind of guy that drifts in and out as he pleases; one of those people that has so many things up in the air that I wonder how he is able to sleep at night. And of course, he’s someone I used to date. Unfortunately, the last time he decided to pop back into my life, I allowed it. I answered the text and said, “sure, I’ll come over”. Why did I do that? Because I was being nice. Thing of it is, said ex lives an hour from me and at the time, I didn’t want to make the drive. It had finally happened! I finally decided that I wasn’t desperate enough to drop what I was doing (or in this case, what I wasn’t doing ) to drive an hour to spend time with this guy who I once at some kind of weird interest in. I see this as growth.

But wait. Maybe it wasn’t growth, because I then replied, “how about next weekend?”. Why did I do that when I didn’t particularly want to spend time with this person? Because I was being nice! I felt obligated and therefore, I made a suggestion to placate the man. Of course, the reply to my question was a deflated and unexcited “I suppose so.” Well, of course that weekend would do, why wouldn’t it? I mean, I’d be the one driving an hour to go spend time with a guy who liked to play the game We’re Just Friends…But Only When It’s Convenient for Me…and No, I Won’t Add You as a Friend on Facebook…But I Still Like To Kiss You. Ever had one of those? Kind of annoying. And weird.

So , as the promised weekend approached, I sought advice. And it was good advice I got: Cut. Him. Out. This wasn’t the first time I’d gotten this advice, but for some reason, it was this time that I chose to listen. Problem was, how was I to get out of this sticky situation I was now in? Lucky for me, I didn’t hear from the ex all weekend. I thought perhaps he’d forgotten about our intended plans. Horray!

But I wasn’t so lucky. Monday rolled around and I received a text asking what had happened to our plans. Of course, upon hearing the little chime and reading the message, I got an icky feeling in my belly. The icky feeling you get when you know you’re doing something that has the possibility to upset/confound/disappoint someone. But, it had to be done. I ignored the message…and promptly added the phone number to my phone to put on the Blocked list. I felt a bit guilty by doing this. After all, if I sent a message and didn’t hear back wouldn’t I be hurt? Oh wait…that has happened to me with this particular person, and about a serious subject matter, I might add.

So, the question begs to be asked: Why was I so affected by the idea of ignoring someone I don’t want to spend time with anymore? If someone disappoints you, does that give you license to disappoint them in return? Is cutting people out hard for everyone? Or, do I just have a supremely bad case of Nice Girl Syndrome? I had a friend once tell me that people like this ex are like cancer: cut them out, or they will bring you down with them. Sometimes, there is no easy way; having a conversation with someone about not really seeing the merit in keeping company with them is just as icky as ignoring them. Neither one is nice, but one is necessary. My dad once told me, “at some point, you have to stop taking in stray dogs and take care of yourself.” I think I’m finally taking my dad’s advice.



Ode to The 24 Most Underrated Parts of Being Single…or I’m Awesome, Who Cares?

Every once in a while, there comes along an article that makes you realize just how good you’ve got it. I stumbled upon this gem The 24 Most Underrated Parts of Being Single a few days ago and it got me to thinking how good singledom really is.
Sure, sure, we all want companionship: someone to love and be loved by us and to share life with. But I have friends who I love and who I share my life with. And really, I’ve been in the dating pool recently and it’s pretty damn shallow; most men I meet are either married liars or can’t meet the basic requirements of holding a valid driver’s license or keeping a job long term. So, rather than mope and cry into my libation, I’m choosing to reread this article numerous times and to rejoice in my freedom.  The article hits some fantastic high points. Some of them were simply so good that they were inspiration for this post and I had to point out my favorites to those lonely nay sayers to prove just how good we’ve got it:
1) You can eat whatever the fuck you want.
How true is this!? If I want to sit down on a Friday night with a bottle of wine or champagne and gorge myself by eating an entire pizza, I can do that and hate myself in the morning. I don’t have to share and I don’t have to be judged. This is called freedom. It’s also called the beginnings of obesity.

6) You can wear embarrassing pajamas all day like a boss.
I’m a huge fan of this one. If I want to walk around the house in my torn-to-hell Rolling Stones t-shirt from 1998 and plaid pajama pants that are ripped at the inseam (to allow maximum ventilation), I can do it. Sure, I look like a total hobo, but that’s the point…I don’t need to look cute for anyone, so looking like a hobo is ok. As long as I don’t leave the house looking like that.

8) No one will judge you for dancing like a moron.
We all do it. We all shake what our mommas gave us and look like mentally challenged patients with absolutely no skills. But here’s the thing: there is no pretense when you’re single. You don’t have to worry about doing this and being labeled the aforementioned mentally challenged patient with zero skills. You can shake it, shake it, just don’t break it…alone or with friends who have the same skill level you do for dancing.







9) You don’t have to share a bed with some jerk to who hogs the sheets.
I love sleeping alone. I get to take up the entire bed and wrap the blankets entirely around myself. Sleeping alone is the tops: you don’t have to be kept awake by someone else’s weird sleeping habits or snoring.


10) You can move at a moment’s notice without fear of any consequences.
I really like the fact that if I choose to move, whether it’s to a town an hour from where I currently am or to another state, it affects no one but me. Throw another person into the mix and things get messy.


11) You never have to worry about getting into fights about stupid shit that doesn’t mean anything.
I think we’ve all had those fights. Enough said.

No. Stupid. Fights.


14) You don’t have to worry about normal grooming. At.All.
I think one of the biggest pains in the ass about being female is shaving one’s legs. Some people get really obsessive over it and can’t go a day without doing it. Me? I could go all winter and be totally ok with my legs resembling what I imagine Grizzly Adams’ looked like.

15) You can watch whatever the hell you want.
That’s right: no one is there to insult me for watching shows like Ghost Adventures and being all googly-eyed over the muscled and dumb Zac Bagans. I can also watch my favorite movie, Bridget Jones’s Diary without criticism or anything on Lifetime, for that matter.
18) Hideous underpants can be worn freely, because you don’t care who sees your junk.
Yep. If I so choose to wear the huge underpants that are actually marketed to the women significantly older than me, I can without (much) shame because no one is seeing those suckers but me.

hideous underpants








20) You can fart and burp without shame because there is no one to judge you.
I think this one is pretty self explanatory. You wouldn’t believe the sounds that come out of women when they’re hanging out with other women that they’ve known for well over a decade. We’d never do that stuff in front of anyone else.

These were my favorites that made me smile a few days ago when I most needed it. They reminded me that while I may not have exactly the kind of relationship that I want, for right now, these little freedoms make this time enjoyable. If you’re single, think about the things that bring you the most joy, and those things that you probably couldn’t do if you were otherwise engaged. I promise that it’ll help you turn that frown upside down when you’re feeling like you’ll never meet someone that not only has a pulse but is well-groomed, has similar interests and that you can actually hold a conversation with.

who cares I'm awesome

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!