Tag Archives: dating

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Cracked.com, You Did It Again

Okay, I have a reason for not posting Tuesday, a really good reason actually. I had a strange and short bout of food poisoning Monday night and early Tuesday. At one point on Monday night, I was leaning on the bathroom wall crying and falling asleep. Sexy, I know. So I was asleep almost all of Tuesday day, until I realized I wasn’t going to die Tuesday evening. YaY for not dying.

I had no idea what I was going to write today until Sara linked a Cracked.com article. This one was as mortally offensive as the first one I wrote about, I don’t think anyway. I do have delayed rage reactions sometimes. It really did focus in somethings that have been floating in my head, but I have been hesitant to write about. Screw it, I talked about food poisoning, dating is far less icky.

four douchebags in a row

Unless I was dating one of these dudes. Dating these guys is ickier than food poison any day.

The idea of playing hard to get pisses me all the way off. I agree with Gladstone here on this.

You know what most of the precepts of modern dating pisses me the fuck off. I know, I know, I don’t have the success rating to warrant having any sort of viable opinion, but honestly, I am pretty okay with being single. I would rather live a battery powered love life than do a lot of the bullshit that goes with the dating dances. I’m not talking about shaving and high heels, I am talking about the games.

Dating for normal people is like urban-fucking-warfare. There are rules and tactics and weapons. Woman huddle together and have strategy meetings and try to figure out the psychology of the enemy (the guys they are dating).

Hard to get can kiss my ass. I know I am “blessed” with traits that make it hard for me in the romance department. I have an … impressive… stature. I am loud, opinionated, smart, funny, and apparently possess intimidating confidence. (My own father told me that my confidence intimidates people, after he asked me if I didn’t scare away the guy I am dating after the first date. I think he was joking about the scaring away part. Probably.) I have come to realize that these things are not always bonuses. So, what am I supposed to do?  Pretend I am not these things until a man is comfortable enough to “overlook” these qualities in me. Okay, yeah, fuck that.

I am flawed, crazy,emotional, and weird, but I am also amazing. If someone else can’t handle it, then they are not right for me. I am a bit of an expert on trying to fit myself into a shape that would work with someone not right for me, and I know it never works. I always end up losing bits of myself in the process.

I don’t believe in playing it cool. If I like someone, I want to be able to tell them. I’m not saying I think it is a good idea to gush to a man how much you want to have their babies after the first date. My guess is that emotion is something you should examine awhile before sharing, but if I feel a real connection with someone, I am going to tell them. I would want them to do the same with me. It helps calm insecurities that would be normal on both sides.

Also, societal pressure about sex is pissing me off. I don’t know how much men feel but women have it from all sides and it is crazy. We are bombarded with all of these messages from everywhere with what we do with our ladybits. If we give it up too soon, we are giving away a valuable chip, but if we don’t give it up quickly enough either the guy will get frustrated and go find an easier mark, or we are letting down our feminist sisters by caving to patriarchal chastity demands.

Straight up. Do what feels most comfortable to you. Fuck societal pressures. If you want to sleep with a guy on the first date, do it. If he thinks you are a slut, then he is a juice noodle that you don’t need. If people tell you that you are trading away a chip (Kathleen gave me this brilliant analogy, she has some amazing thoughts on this I wish she would write down and publish) and leaving him with nothing else to look forward to, then point out to them he can look forward to more sex with you.

I am on the other end of the spectrum, I am a snail’s pace sort of gal. I can’t separate sex from emotions, and I have always known any attempts to do so would just leave me hurt. I don’t think sex is dirty or wrong, I am just not interested in it without emotional attachments. This makes me a bit of a unicorn, but that is okay. Believe it or not, some of the strangest pressure against my attitude is from other women. I’m not moving at a snails pace for patriarchal ideas that my value lies in the lack of mileage on my lady garden or to hold a power over a man. I move at my own pace for my own reasons, and the only one who has any say is the man I am with.

Another part of the dating warfare is women analyze everything. We analyze EVERYTHING. This is part of a conversation I with the Viking I am dating (another Kathleen-ism) is men don’t think about things nearly as much as we do. We think ourselves into craziness. Good men say what they think and mean it, and if they are playing games, then they are assholes, and you can’t accommodate for assholes.

Women weigh everything. We turn conversations over and over like stones in our hands until they are worn smooth. We do this to other women unintentionally. A friend harmlessly asked me about the hug at the end of a date, trying to explain what three different hugs have been scientifically proven to mean, my brain imploded, and I panicked like a damn deer in the woods. She didn’t mean it to happen, like all of the other women in the world, but we, by nature, overload ourselves.

I made the decision that I am too damn old for worrying about all of this shit. I am not the urban dating warfare type, and most advice doesn’t apply to me. If I screw things up with the incredible Viking, I am screwing them up on my own terms. This way at least I know I blew them up by being me and not trying to be something else. Also, I might drive myself less crazy.

Yeah, I meant this to be a response to the article, mostly it ended up being a rant about dating.

 
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Curiosity and the Cat

I have sworn off of men for at least a year because it seemed like the logical decision to make.  I love men but they do nothing but create chaos in my life and I am doing a good enough job creating my own chaos thankyouverymuch. I still think about what I want in a man (like every single straight woman does) and on occasion I look at a dating site on which I have a profile just out of curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat and I don’t think there is the needed satisfaction to bring it back.

I know dating sites are all the rage with the hot young singles these days. I have had the strangest luck with it. It is has been all bad and it has all been just weird.

The Boys of the Internet:

The mail I ever got on that site came when I was 27. The man was 56.  I when I looked at his dating preferences I noticed that he wanted a woman between the ages of 25 and 35. Ugh. I could tell he was looking for a real intellectual soul match. I felt a bit ageist about brushing him off until I realized even he didn’t want to date someone his age. Seriously, though, there is little a man nearly thirty years my senior could have in common with me mentally or emotionally. I know women closer to his age and most of them are beautiful, dynamic, smart women who would make him happier.  Plus, it would feel pervy dating someone my mom’s age.

The second guy I connected with was a nerdy, smallish man who was working on his doctorate. He was very busy (so he said) but he was very smart, interesting, and charming. One night we were on the phone and he was telling me how everything in the universe was made of the same particles that were created in the big bang. He told me everything in the world was star dust. I know, I know, I am a dork but that was freaking hot. We made a date and he chickened out and I never talked to him again. I have been told his behaviors were indicative of someone who was in a relationship and was looking to cheat. /le sigh

Third guy is known as “Hatchet Boy.” That should be your first clue that things were not awesome. We sent a few messages back and forth and we exchanged myspace pages. He had some of his writing posted and it was bad angst-filled teenage “dark” crap but with slightly violent undertones. His picture was of him holding two hatchets. It gets better. Turns out he was one of the regulars at the library and he had creeped me out there too. When he realized who I was, it got awkward and a bit scary in my head. I told him I was seriously talking to another guy and I wanted to see where that went first.

I was talking to another guy, so I was not lying to Hatchet Boy. This guy was special, the bad kind of special. He dropped out of high school in ninth grade and liked Twilight. He had a daughter and baby momma drama. He also told me on our first date that his ex-girl friend might also be pregnant. As we talk over the next few days things just got more insane. He had to go rescue his daughter from his crazy ex. He found out that the wall of his heart was too thick and he needed medicine and a transplant.  His truck broke down. He had a cousin that lived near the nerd convention in Anaheim, CA that I was going to in a few weeks. Something was going on with his neighbors dogs and shot guns. I decided that either this guy was a big liar or a drama magnet and I needed to not go there.

That was the guy that broke my desire to date. (I am amazed that it took that much.) I stopped looking at the site and forgot about it then I got the latest ex-boyfriend and cancelled my account. One night in a moment of weakness after the break-up I reactivated my account.

I have only had one contact after I reactivated it and that was enough to make me roll my eyes and swear not to use the site seriously. The guy was 47 and he was a poet. If being a poet was not bad enough, his poetry was terrible. It was rhyme scheme dependent drivel. He told me his biggest frustration in life is that all the women notice him for his hot body and not his mind, rhymes, and large man bits. Do I need to explain why this did not get very far?

I still check the site on occasion just when I get curious. I always find the same assortment of strange men who can’t spell and have nothing in common with me. It helps me with my decision to stay single.

 
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Yeah (NSFW)

I completely lack inspiration today. I have not a tiny idea on what to write at least 500 words. I feel no desire to try to bullshit through one dazzling you with my wit and awesomeness. I feel honor bound to write a blog tonight since last Saturday I was too sick and gross to write.

I went to Wal-mart this evening. You would be amazed at how many males of varying ages were buying only a bouquet of flowers and a card. I predict fist fights tomorrow morning. Someone will get a black eye over the last bunch of tulips.

I have pg’ed myself so much. I say flipping, frelling, shoot, crap, holy smokes, gorramn, and snikes.  Some days I just want to cuss. I don’t cuss on facebook because there are people I might offend that I actually want to stay friends with. Some days I justwant to say “fuck, cunt, shit, damn, motherfucking hell bitch cock.”  I hate pretending like I am an adult. Once its on the internet it is out there forever. Fuck you, internet, FUCK YOU!

I hope if I ever breed I don’t have ugly kids. If I do ever have ugly kids, I hope one persons hates me enough to tell me so I can not torture people by making them tell me how cute my malformed spawn is.

OMG It's a fucking wasp motherfucker

I don’t know why I posted this. It seemed appropriate.

 

I bought a box of popcorn today. I forgot how much I love popcorn.

It amazes me that people still turn their noses up at internet dating. They say that the old fashioned way was better. I think people are full of stupid. Do they mean the old fashion way where the girl’s parents sold her off in a business deal? Maybe they prefer you marry a cousin or die alone. Or do they mean the old fashioned way of marrying whom society told you and he beat you and you were okay with it. Or the more modern old fashioned way where you get all tarted up and go to a bar, get drunk, sleep with someone, fall in love even though you really don’t know each other, and get divorced a few years later with a heart filled with bitterness and anger.

I should write ads for e-harmony.

I was at Wal-mart checking out when the little girl with the family behind me slapped my butt.  I looked down at her and she smiled a big angelic smile. When her dad asked her why she spanked me  she just shrugged. I approve.

Acid wash jeans should stay in the eighties. Anyone wearing acid wash jeans should be ticketed the first two times they are caught out in public wearing it. On the third time, they should be sterilized.

Light is spelled L-I-G-H-T. Right is the direction or the affirmative. Rite is something pagans do to have an excuse to get naked and drink. The opposite of day, night, is spelled with a ‘ght.” I agree with Eddie Izzard, it is cheating at Scrabble and makes no sense but that is how it is. 2nite makes the hate and anger bubble up from my soul like an anger and hate champagne. Keep in texts and on twitter you ignorant fucking retard. Oh, and do not breed.

Oddly enough, I feel a bit better. Sometimes I think we all just need to go a little Tourette’s Syndrome on a blog. So I have written almost six hundred fucking words so I am going to fucking publish the shit and go play some fucking video games.

 
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