OK Y’all,
So I’ve noticed a trend lately in the dating scene that is a little odd to me. You see, growing up, Big E was the youngest or one of the youngest in her group of friends. It was not uncommon for her to be ostracized for her nubile status either. Naturally as she grew older, she made other friends, but even they were older or around her same age—then a strange thing started happening. As Big E got older, the boys she met started getting younger. She was no longer the youngest bird getting her fly on at the club. She was starting to be the puma prowling the dance floor, fist pumping to MJ because she actually remembered when he was black, while all the young’uns stared at her. So what did she do? She embraced it and started giving these lesser aged fellas a second look. And that brings us to the present.
I don’t know what it is, but here lately I’ve gone out with at least two boys who were significantly younger than me. I’m not talking jail bait, because I’m not THAT old myself, but young enough to where if we were really old we might die at the same time. I met these boys through random encounters with friends, and it wasn’t encounters where you would typically find much younger people in attendance like, say, a Justin Bieber concert. So I went with it, and in my handful of dates with these fellas, I realized that there were advantages and disadvantages to training a pup as opposed to trying to teach an old dog new tricks. My take:
1. Younger guys may not have the “experience” you’re looking for. Especially if you are a gal like myself of seasoned tenure and this ain’t your first rodeo. Younger guys have sometimes not had the opportunity to really develop the skills necessary to make your time together worthwhile. This is mainly because their opportunities have generally come at frat parties when severely inebriated and/or with young women of the same inexperienced ilk who probably have only heard the term “g-spot” in a really bad R&B song rhymed with “bedrock” (don’t ask me how I even know that).
The upside of this lack of know-how? You can train them to do what YOU want them to do. So if you’ve got a few tried and true favorites in your pantheon of moves, you can share them and make sure they are perfected with frequent practice. However, this does require your willingness to train, and willingness to be an encouraging coach. If you don’t feel like putting the time in, I understand. But just think—those young men are going to get older, and they’re STILL not going to know what to do, and then they’ll end up dating me and making me really unhappy.
2. Younger guys may lack comprehensive knowledge of iconic events from the decades past, because they weren’t alive yet. This happens to me all the time even with guys who are the same age as me, because I’m basically an 80’s music idiot savant, but it’s especially evident in the Gen Y set. If you weren’t born by the time the first Back to the Future came out, then there’s going to be a weensy generational gap to bridge for yous and me. It’s hard for me to feel comfortable making reference to Hall and Oates when you think that I’m describing a way to transport grains. And quite frankly, there is no upside to this. I think everyone should have at least a working knowledge of decades prior to their existence no matter what decade that is. I’m a huge fan of Andy Gibb. Granted he was hosting Solid Gold by the time I ever laid eyes on him, but I believe he and Victoria Principal had what it took to make it. Damn that cocaine! He could have been your everything! He WANTED to be!
3. Younger guys may not be as pecuniarily flush as you would like them to be, i.e., they’re broke. That’s extremely common these days amongst any age of person, but it does seem to skew toward the less aged rather than the more aged. And if you are interested in having a date paid for, this may not be your best route of affection. I have worked very hard over the past 15 years, supported myself for the past 10, and I’d really like to not have to support someone else. Or pay for his books. I’m not saying that I don’t appreciate someone who is really trying and maybe just doesn’t have the cashflow they need right way. I’m just saying those guys should maybe get some money from dear old Dad before attempting to take me out to dinner.
4. Younger guys are not as interested in commitment. I know, I know….NO guy is interested in commitment. I get it. Hell, I have plenty of women friends who aren’t interested in commitment. My point is, younger guys tend to want to play the field a lot more. The world is their oyster, and we ladies are but pearls. Many, many pearls of all shapes and sizes that these boys want to make sure they shuck right out of our shells. And this is why if you’re looking to get serious, you may be looking at the wrong fisherman. Because if he’s not done oyster trolling, you’re going to get shucked over. The upside, though, is that if you are a lady who is not interested in commitment, or you’ve just come off of a bad breakup and need an ego boost, there’s nothing like some young meat to set you right. You’ll feel like the sophisticated older woman for the night, and he will revere you as the experienced hottie that showed him a thing or two. As long as he’s not the young man in #1 who isn’t quite up to par in the horizontal mambo.
Alright, that’s all I’ve got…let me know what you think!
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
The Business of Minding Your Own Business
OK Y’all,
So it’s been a while since I’ve posted, and that’s mainly due to the fact that I ain’t got squat to write about. This is what is known in common parlance as a proverbial “dry spell” for the ol’ Big E, and I gotta say, it’s been alright so far except for the fact that I cannot for the life of me get my Mater Familias off my back about being a SINK (Single Income, No Kids). See, I used to be quite proud of my immediate family because they never hounded me for a son-in-law or grandkids. They never said things like “when are you going to give me some sweet grandbabies to play with?” so I never had to reply with things like, “after you die” or “why should I when the rest of my family is so busy procreating out of wedlock?” So it worked out pretty well for the most part and I went on living the single life, blogging, and generally enjoying myself. Then suddenly the idea of being a DINK or a DICK (Dual Income No Kids or Dual Income Couple-a Kids) became the unflinching, laser focus of what I was lacking in my life by dear old Madre. Why, you ask? Because the two of us are thinking about starting a business and me being single is being singled out as the ONE reason why it’s not practical. Forget the fact that we know nothing about being small business owners, or that my dad has to approve all long term capital outlay that involves family money, or any of that. It’s the fact that, “well, honey, I just worry about you being able to pay your bills…if you had a husband this wouldn’t be a problem at all….” Right. So what if I did have a husband? Let’s entertain some scenarios for a minute. Scenarios that are all too common these days.
1. What if he was a big fat piece of shit who sat on his ass all day sucking up government funds while feigning and illness that’s incurable or permanently debilitating and I STILL couldn’t support myself because of this dead beat parked up on my couch? What then??? Yeah. Exactly.
2. What if he’s a guy who seems fine on the outside, and me being too proud to say anything, is secretly a wife beater or strung out on prescription pills all day and I struggle to cover up for him day in and day out while he acts like Gary Busey after a hard night on the Vegas strip in board meetings and ends up unemployed and living on my dime?? Ok. Great.
3. What if he’s a complete slimeball who cheats all over the place and ends up getting some bimbo preggers while I’m at the office slaving away trying to earn a buck to get him something nice for Christmas, and he comes home and announces he’s moving to Boca with Big Tits Betty and I am left holding the cards, the mortgage, and the car payment?? Would you be happy then? Fine. I’ll get right on that.
Long and short of it is folks, I’m not getting married any time soon. I’d have to meet Mr. Right immediately after you read this post and proceed to fast track it to a picket fence, and even then it’d be at least 6 months. So, let’s focus on what we can do—save up some money, get a nice little equity loan, find a business partner—and most of all, lay off Big E and her singlehood. There’s nothing I can do about it, and really nothing I want to do about it at this point. And that’s all good with me.
So it’s been a while since I’ve posted, and that’s mainly due to the fact that I ain’t got squat to write about. This is what is known in common parlance as a proverbial “dry spell” for the ol’ Big E, and I gotta say, it’s been alright so far except for the fact that I cannot for the life of me get my Mater Familias off my back about being a SINK (Single Income, No Kids). See, I used to be quite proud of my immediate family because they never hounded me for a son-in-law or grandkids. They never said things like “when are you going to give me some sweet grandbabies to play with?” so I never had to reply with things like, “after you die” or “why should I when the rest of my family is so busy procreating out of wedlock?” So it worked out pretty well for the most part and I went on living the single life, blogging, and generally enjoying myself. Then suddenly the idea of being a DINK or a DICK (Dual Income No Kids or Dual Income Couple-a Kids) became the unflinching, laser focus of what I was lacking in my life by dear old Madre. Why, you ask? Because the two of us are thinking about starting a business and me being single is being singled out as the ONE reason why it’s not practical. Forget the fact that we know nothing about being small business owners, or that my dad has to approve all long term capital outlay that involves family money, or any of that. It’s the fact that, “well, honey, I just worry about you being able to pay your bills…if you had a husband this wouldn’t be a problem at all….” Right. So what if I did have a husband? Let’s entertain some scenarios for a minute. Scenarios that are all too common these days.
1. What if he was a big fat piece of shit who sat on his ass all day sucking up government funds while feigning and illness that’s incurable or permanently debilitating and I STILL couldn’t support myself because of this dead beat parked up on my couch? What then??? Yeah. Exactly.
2. What if he’s a guy who seems fine on the outside, and me being too proud to say anything, is secretly a wife beater or strung out on prescription pills all day and I struggle to cover up for him day in and day out while he acts like Gary Busey after a hard night on the Vegas strip in board meetings and ends up unemployed and living on my dime?? Ok. Great.
3. What if he’s a complete slimeball who cheats all over the place and ends up getting some bimbo preggers while I’m at the office slaving away trying to earn a buck to get him something nice for Christmas, and he comes home and announces he’s moving to Boca with Big Tits Betty and I am left holding the cards, the mortgage, and the car payment?? Would you be happy then? Fine. I’ll get right on that.
Long and short of it is folks, I’m not getting married any time soon. I’d have to meet Mr. Right immediately after you read this post and proceed to fast track it to a picket fence, and even then it’d be at least 6 months. So, let’s focus on what we can do—save up some money, get a nice little equity loan, find a business partner—and most of all, lay off Big E and her singlehood. There’s nothing I can do about it, and really nothing I want to do about it at this point. And that’s all good with me.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Paging Cupid...
OK Y'all,
So a friend of mine emailed me the other day with a proposal (and not one of the indecent ilk). He wanted to know if I would be interested in meeting a gentleman he works with. Of course I said yes, because everyone knows that you don't meet new people by sitting at home with your cats watching King of Queens re-runs at 6 and 6:30 on TBS--not that I would know anything about that AT ALL, but still. My friend gave me a basic description of said fella, and I inquired about a few other things, and this guy sounded like he might be a winner. I'll keep you posted on that. But what got me thinking was this idea of the "fix-up" and the process behind it. Allow me to pontificate for a moment.
The first thing that comes to mind when you think of someone is of critical importance, because that right there either puts them in the "Inbox" or the "Recycle Bin" of dateable prospects for your friends. It seems over the years I have earned the reputation, and deservedly so, of being a funny girl with a bad attitude and a penchant for the menfolk, gaudy jewelry, and glitter--a hooker with a heart of gold, if you will. And really, I'm good with that. It's a helluva lot better than being the one who has a giant mole on her face and got knocked up on purpose to try and trap her ex-boyfriend. Again, not that I know ANYBODY like that, just an example I'm throwing out there. So when my friends et al think of me, I am sure the image that comes to mind is of me at Studio 54 with some sort of glittery dress and even glittery makeup on, dancing with a swashbuckling younger gentleman as we laugh at my jokes and sip our martinis. In fact, I'm positive that's what they see now that I've written this. Go ahead, I'll give you a minute to marinate and let it really play out...
Ok, back to the blog in 3...2...1...
The point of this is, when these friends meet eligible bachelors in their every day dealings, their opinion of you has to be positive or they wouldn't bother trying to fix you up with said bachelor. Obviously if they are your friends they like you to a certain extent, but I believe it really says something extra about your character that they are willing to subject another stranger to you.
The other thing that strikes me about this situation is that your friends have to know what you are looking for in a potential partner before they set you up, and that can be a tricky thing sometimes. If you're really close friends, then they know you better than you know yourself, which, if you're anything like me, is a whole other blog to write about why they are still your friends. But if your friend is a new one, or one that you don't see as much of as you'd like, they may have to do some homework. What I like about my fix up is that my friend asked me if I had any interview questions before he set things into motion, and asked if I would like a group date or just a one on one. I appreciate this tactic and find it wise. You don't want to be on a solo blind date with a Marilyn Manson impersonator at the local rave when you are more of a football, beer and wings kind of lady. So if you're going to set up your friends, be sure to get the dealbreakers and provide support. They will thank you later, even if the date isn't a huge success. And you will thank yourself for being such a stand up matchmaker. It's common courtesy and that's something we are in short supply of these days, people!
So, what do you guys think of fix ups? Good, bad, ugly? Let me know. And wish me luck. I'm going to go find my best glittery eyeshadow.
So a friend of mine emailed me the other day with a proposal (and not one of the indecent ilk). He wanted to know if I would be interested in meeting a gentleman he works with. Of course I said yes, because everyone knows that you don't meet new people by sitting at home with your cats watching King of Queens re-runs at 6 and 6:30 on TBS--not that I would know anything about that AT ALL, but still. My friend gave me a basic description of said fella, and I inquired about a few other things, and this guy sounded like he might be a winner. I'll keep you posted on that. But what got me thinking was this idea of the "fix-up" and the process behind it. Allow me to pontificate for a moment.
The first thing that comes to mind when you think of someone is of critical importance, because that right there either puts them in the "Inbox" or the "Recycle Bin" of dateable prospects for your friends. It seems over the years I have earned the reputation, and deservedly so, of being a funny girl with a bad attitude and a penchant for the menfolk, gaudy jewelry, and glitter--a hooker with a heart of gold, if you will. And really, I'm good with that. It's a helluva lot better than being the one who has a giant mole on her face and got knocked up on purpose to try and trap her ex-boyfriend. Again, not that I know ANYBODY like that, just an example I'm throwing out there. So when my friends et al think of me, I am sure the image that comes to mind is of me at Studio 54 with some sort of glittery dress and even glittery makeup on, dancing with a swashbuckling younger gentleman as we laugh at my jokes and sip our martinis. In fact, I'm positive that's what they see now that I've written this. Go ahead, I'll give you a minute to marinate and let it really play out...
Ok, back to the blog in 3...2...1...
The point of this is, when these friends meet eligible bachelors in their every day dealings, their opinion of you has to be positive or they wouldn't bother trying to fix you up with said bachelor. Obviously if they are your friends they like you to a certain extent, but I believe it really says something extra about your character that they are willing to subject another stranger to you.
The other thing that strikes me about this situation is that your friends have to know what you are looking for in a potential partner before they set you up, and that can be a tricky thing sometimes. If you're really close friends, then they know you better than you know yourself, which, if you're anything like me, is a whole other blog to write about why they are still your friends. But if your friend is a new one, or one that you don't see as much of as you'd like, they may have to do some homework. What I like about my fix up is that my friend asked me if I had any interview questions before he set things into motion, and asked if I would like a group date or just a one on one. I appreciate this tactic and find it wise. You don't want to be on a solo blind date with a Marilyn Manson impersonator at the local rave when you are more of a football, beer and wings kind of lady. So if you're going to set up your friends, be sure to get the dealbreakers and provide support. They will thank you later, even if the date isn't a huge success. And you will thank yourself for being such a stand up matchmaker. It's common courtesy and that's something we are in short supply of these days, people!
So, what do you guys think of fix ups? Good, bad, ugly? Let me know. And wish me luck. I'm going to go find my best glittery eyeshadow.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Propositioning For Dummies
OK Y’all,
So I was out on Facebook getting my social network on when I came across an article a friend of mine posted from Yahoo. It was about a woman in Ohio who supposedly discovered her husband had married another woman in Florida and they had posted all the pictures up on the ol’ FB for the world to see. Obviously feeling a little disappointed, she took her side of the story to the national news media (because isn’t that what we all want to do when we’re hurt and angry?). Of course Hubs denied that they were ever technically and legally married, and said she knew about the other woman and the marriage. To which I reply, “DUDE. Who gives a shit if you’re ‘technically’ married or not, you went through with a huge to do with pictures and video to prove that you did in fact marry ceremonially at least, proceeded to have 2 kids, and then went and got yourself another ‘wife.’ The technicality of your first marriage should be the least of your karmic worries!” And that got me thinking even more about some recent events (over and above what happened to inspire my last post) that have transpired in my own life that have left me at a serious loss for not only words, but my lunch as well. These things are truly vomit inducing and make one doubt the future of the human race.
First off, I incurred a new dating prospect. A guy I had met briefly a while back who got in touch with me (again with that marvel of modern technology, Facebook) and asked for my number. Great! I thought. Perhaps this will be a fun adventure. Sure enough, this fella called me and we talked on the phone. We discussed fun stuff like work and going out. We joked around about drinking beer and sitting in a kiddie pool on my deck. He mentioned taking me on a date. Even better! I thought. I went to sleep feeling pretty positive. I woke up to a text request from ol’ boy asking for a naked picture to get his day started off right. Yes…you need to go back and read that again. The messages just got worse from there. One even mentioned sending me a picture of a very sensitive area of my anatomy in exchange for the servicing of said area. Now, gentle reader, I will tell you I am a very open person who is not easily offended and is usually the one doing the offending if the truth be told. But I find it not only tacky and tasteless but downright rude to say such things to a gal that you don’t even know and haven’t even been out with yet—in other words, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? Obviously my sense of humor was sorely misconstrued the night before, or this guy is one Penthouse Letter short of a compendium. So what did I do? I advised this young man to calm down and see if he even liked me first before professing his undying devotion to Mrs. Peabody and the Lotus of Love. Needless to say I won’t be answering his calls anymore.
Second on my list was an email exchange with a co-worker. Let me preface by saying that in all honesty, I didn’t think this young man really liked me that much. He hardly talks to me at work functions, and though we have joked around on occasion, he really does not seem to want to be part of my extended network. I saw him the day before the email exchange at a work training thing, and we shared a joke and that was it. No other conversation. I had congratulated him a while ago on his recent fatherhood, but before the work training, I had not spoken to him in weeks upon weeks. This was fine by me, as he lives in another state, is married, and did I mention JUST HAD A BABY. So when I get an email that starts out innocuous enough—it was about the joke we had been chuckling over—I of course replied and started what I thought was a discussion about an upcoming work trip. Things quickly turned to a not so platonic tack and requests for pointers and personal instruction on “indoor sports” became the topic. Again, I am not the one to talk to about appropriate conversations most of the time, but friends, this was uncalled for. I tried to steer the conversation back to safer ground and fortunately signed off for the day before I ended up in a loss of consortium lawsuit.
Last but not least was another email exchange with an old friend. This fella was what we would call in common parlance a “hook up buddy” who in recent months had acquired himself a lady friend, and by lady friend I mean a serious enough one to have changed the—yep, you guessed it—Facebook status to “in a relationship with.” I simply dropped him a note just to say hello since we don’t usually talk when either one of us is parked up with someone else. I promptly receive an email asking how I am as well, and could I give him my phone number again since he’s lost his contacts recently? I obliged, as it seemed to be a simple enough request, and he then proceeded to promise to call in the wee hours very soon to procure some sweet sweet lovin’. I was a bit taken aback, as I thought he was still hugged up with his bird, what with it being on his page and she also still having a picture of the two of them as her default profile picture. I asked what had happened to the “in a relationship” status, to which he replied “yeah, yeah, yeah.” I’m not sure if you know what that means, reader, but I do—that means he’s trying to get his creep on and hoping I’ll drop trou with no questions asked. Unfortunately for him, I was born at night, but not last night. He can call me all he wants, and text me, and whatever else, but these gams are glued shut until further notice.
In all of this, I felt two things—disgust and pity. Disgust at what these guys are (failing at) trying to do, and pity for the women involved with them. I understand that everyone has extenuating circumstances from time to time, but there’s no gray area here. It’s cut and dried and out there on Facebook for Pete’s sake. I was appalled at what lengths these men would go to just for the possibility of a temporary fix and how ridiculously stupid they were acting to get it. I know I’m a pretty lady with a lot to offer, but I don’t offer it to just everyone, and it offended me that these men would even attempt to obtain what I’ve got without regard for anyone else. Part of me says I ought to know by now, but part of me still wants to believe that good guys exist. So please, for the sake of everyone you know, be a decent person. And for the sake of me, don’t do that shit, because I will rake you over the coals in a public blog without mercy.
So I was out on Facebook getting my social network on when I came across an article a friend of mine posted from Yahoo. It was about a woman in Ohio who supposedly discovered her husband had married another woman in Florida and they had posted all the pictures up on the ol’ FB for the world to see. Obviously feeling a little disappointed, she took her side of the story to the national news media (because isn’t that what we all want to do when we’re hurt and angry?). Of course Hubs denied that they were ever technically and legally married, and said she knew about the other woman and the marriage. To which I reply, “DUDE. Who gives a shit if you’re ‘technically’ married or not, you went through with a huge to do with pictures and video to prove that you did in fact marry ceremonially at least, proceeded to have 2 kids, and then went and got yourself another ‘wife.’ The technicality of your first marriage should be the least of your karmic worries!” And that got me thinking even more about some recent events (over and above what happened to inspire my last post) that have transpired in my own life that have left me at a serious loss for not only words, but my lunch as well. These things are truly vomit inducing and make one doubt the future of the human race.
First off, I incurred a new dating prospect. A guy I had met briefly a while back who got in touch with me (again with that marvel of modern technology, Facebook) and asked for my number. Great! I thought. Perhaps this will be a fun adventure. Sure enough, this fella called me and we talked on the phone. We discussed fun stuff like work and going out. We joked around about drinking beer and sitting in a kiddie pool on my deck. He mentioned taking me on a date. Even better! I thought. I went to sleep feeling pretty positive. I woke up to a text request from ol’ boy asking for a naked picture to get his day started off right. Yes…you need to go back and read that again. The messages just got worse from there. One even mentioned sending me a picture of a very sensitive area of my anatomy in exchange for the servicing of said area. Now, gentle reader, I will tell you I am a very open person who is not easily offended and is usually the one doing the offending if the truth be told. But I find it not only tacky and tasteless but downright rude to say such things to a gal that you don’t even know and haven’t even been out with yet—in other words, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? Obviously my sense of humor was sorely misconstrued the night before, or this guy is one Penthouse Letter short of a compendium. So what did I do? I advised this young man to calm down and see if he even liked me first before professing his undying devotion to Mrs. Peabody and the Lotus of Love. Needless to say I won’t be answering his calls anymore.
Second on my list was an email exchange with a co-worker. Let me preface by saying that in all honesty, I didn’t think this young man really liked me that much. He hardly talks to me at work functions, and though we have joked around on occasion, he really does not seem to want to be part of my extended network. I saw him the day before the email exchange at a work training thing, and we shared a joke and that was it. No other conversation. I had congratulated him a while ago on his recent fatherhood, but before the work training, I had not spoken to him in weeks upon weeks. This was fine by me, as he lives in another state, is married, and did I mention JUST HAD A BABY. So when I get an email that starts out innocuous enough—it was about the joke we had been chuckling over—I of course replied and started what I thought was a discussion about an upcoming work trip. Things quickly turned to a not so platonic tack and requests for pointers and personal instruction on “indoor sports” became the topic. Again, I am not the one to talk to about appropriate conversations most of the time, but friends, this was uncalled for. I tried to steer the conversation back to safer ground and fortunately signed off for the day before I ended up in a loss of consortium lawsuit.
Last but not least was another email exchange with an old friend. This fella was what we would call in common parlance a “hook up buddy” who in recent months had acquired himself a lady friend, and by lady friend I mean a serious enough one to have changed the—yep, you guessed it—Facebook status to “in a relationship with.” I simply dropped him a note just to say hello since we don’t usually talk when either one of us is parked up with someone else. I promptly receive an email asking how I am as well, and could I give him my phone number again since he’s lost his contacts recently? I obliged, as it seemed to be a simple enough request, and he then proceeded to promise to call in the wee hours very soon to procure some sweet sweet lovin’. I was a bit taken aback, as I thought he was still hugged up with his bird, what with it being on his page and she also still having a picture of the two of them as her default profile picture. I asked what had happened to the “in a relationship” status, to which he replied “yeah, yeah, yeah.” I’m not sure if you know what that means, reader, but I do—that means he’s trying to get his creep on and hoping I’ll drop trou with no questions asked. Unfortunately for him, I was born at night, but not last night. He can call me all he wants, and text me, and whatever else, but these gams are glued shut until further notice.
In all of this, I felt two things—disgust and pity. Disgust at what these guys are (failing at) trying to do, and pity for the women involved with them. I understand that everyone has extenuating circumstances from time to time, but there’s no gray area here. It’s cut and dried and out there on Facebook for Pete’s sake. I was appalled at what lengths these men would go to just for the possibility of a temporary fix and how ridiculously stupid they were acting to get it. I know I’m a pretty lady with a lot to offer, but I don’t offer it to just everyone, and it offended me that these men would even attempt to obtain what I’ve got without regard for anyone else. Part of me says I ought to know by now, but part of me still wants to believe that good guys exist. So please, for the sake of everyone you know, be a decent person. And for the sake of me, don’t do that shit, because I will rake you over the coals in a public blog without mercy.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Hallmark? We Don't Need No Stinking Hallmark!
OK Y'all,
So the Big E has had a tough time recently, boy trouble as it were, and she's been pretty upset about it. And like all red-blooded American females with a creative streak, she decided to channel her pain and anguish into a more productive outlet instead of sitting around stewing over revenge tactics (though if you're ever interested, let me know, I've got a ton of 'em). So what did she do? She came up with her own little set of greeting cards that would express her sentiments in a fun and exciting way! Doubtful that these will ever make it to the shelves, but honestly, it's Hallmark's loss. Because creativity is something that is not in short supply for Big E, and she is more than capable of printing these little ditties herself. Holla if you see one you need! Here goes:
1. OUTSIDE: Congratulations!!!
INSIDE: You tossed your yogurt in the wrong girl! Enjoy Fatherhood!
2. OUTSIDE: Dinner for Two: $60
Drinks after dinner: $20
Box of condoms: $7
INSIDE: Forgetting to use them : PRICELESS.
3. OUTSIDE: Pearls are white,
Like the load that you blew,
INSIDE: Here's hoping the baby
Actually looks like you! Congratulations!
4. OUTSIDE: You've really started something in my heart!
INSIDE: too bad you already started something in another woman's womb! Congratulations!
5. OUTSIDE: Baby, you touch my heart in so many ways--
INSIDE: Unfortunately you only had to touch her cervix once. Have a happy 9 months!
6. OUTSIDE: Darling, you gave me butterflies in my stomach--
INSIDE: You'll also be giving her child support! Have a great life!
7. OUTSIDE: Honey, you give me hope--
INSIDE: That there will be one more Assistant Manager of the Month at Waffle House in 18 years! Congratulations!
8. OUTSIDE: You make my heart skip a beat!
INSIDE: Too bad you decided to skip birth control when you cheated on me! Best wishes!
9. OUTSIDE: Sweetheart, I'm really falling for you--
INSIDE: It's too bad you fell into her vagina first! Hugs and kisses!
10: OUTSIDE: Recipe for a Family:
INSIDE: Start with 12 beers
1 narcissistic asshole
1 Unassuming Ditz
2 tsp. Baby Batter
Combine with a complete lack of self and birth control and a dash of gut wrenching guilt and bake at 98.6 degrees for 9 months. Voila! Instant family!
11. OUTSIDE: We're really going to miss you
INSIDE: By we, I mean me and your dignity. Happy Trails!
12. OUTSIDE: If I could change one thing...
INSIDE: I would've had you pull out of her as fast as you pulled out of our relationship. Mazeltov!
Alright! that's all I've got! Share your ideas and comments!
So the Big E has had a tough time recently, boy trouble as it were, and she's been pretty upset about it. And like all red-blooded American females with a creative streak, she decided to channel her pain and anguish into a more productive outlet instead of sitting around stewing over revenge tactics (though if you're ever interested, let me know, I've got a ton of 'em). So what did she do? She came up with her own little set of greeting cards that would express her sentiments in a fun and exciting way! Doubtful that these will ever make it to the shelves, but honestly, it's Hallmark's loss. Because creativity is something that is not in short supply for Big E, and she is more than capable of printing these little ditties herself. Holla if you see one you need! Here goes:
1. OUTSIDE: Congratulations!!!
INSIDE: You tossed your yogurt in the wrong girl! Enjoy Fatherhood!
2. OUTSIDE: Dinner for Two: $60
Drinks after dinner: $20
Box of condoms: $7
INSIDE: Forgetting to use them : PRICELESS.
3. OUTSIDE: Pearls are white,
Like the load that you blew,
INSIDE: Here's hoping the baby
Actually looks like you! Congratulations!
4. OUTSIDE: You've really started something in my heart!
INSIDE: too bad you already started something in another woman's womb! Congratulations!
5. OUTSIDE: Baby, you touch my heart in so many ways--
INSIDE: Unfortunately you only had to touch her cervix once. Have a happy 9 months!
6. OUTSIDE: Darling, you gave me butterflies in my stomach--
INSIDE: You'll also be giving her child support! Have a great life!
7. OUTSIDE: Honey, you give me hope--
INSIDE: That there will be one more Assistant Manager of the Month at Waffle House in 18 years! Congratulations!
8. OUTSIDE: You make my heart skip a beat!
INSIDE: Too bad you decided to skip birth control when you cheated on me! Best wishes!
9. OUTSIDE: Sweetheart, I'm really falling for you--
INSIDE: It's too bad you fell into her vagina first! Hugs and kisses!
10: OUTSIDE: Recipe for a Family:
INSIDE: Start with 12 beers
1 narcissistic asshole
1 Unassuming Ditz
2 tsp. Baby Batter
Combine with a complete lack of self and birth control and a dash of gut wrenching guilt and bake at 98.6 degrees for 9 months. Voila! Instant family!
11. OUTSIDE: We're really going to miss you
INSIDE: By we, I mean me and your dignity. Happy Trails!
12. OUTSIDE: If I could change one thing...
INSIDE: I would've had you pull out of her as fast as you pulled out of our relationship. Mazeltov!
Alright! that's all I've got! Share your ideas and comments!
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Six Degrees of Separation
OK Y’all,
So I was laying on my couch drinking an entire bottle of pinot grigio and incoherently babbling to my cat in an attempt to figure out what went wrong in my last dating foray when I had an idea. No, it wasn’t that I shouldn’t have had the whole bottle of wine, or even that I shouldn’t be talking to a cat, but this idea of Degrees of Dating. It’s not degrees as in education, but more degrees in terms of measurement—temperature and distance. Just to make it fun, I’ve come up with my own Six Degrees of Dating (not to be confused with Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, though I’m sure if I trace it back far enough I’ve probably dated him by association at some point).
1. 0 degrees (or 32 degrees if you are keeping it strictly Fahrenheit)--this is sort of a double duty degree—it could represent the freezing point of a relationship, where one or both of you decides to throw in the towel, hang it up, dump or be dumped, etc. It could also represent the lack of interest when one party is interested in the other but the feeling is not mutual. You decide. Either way, baby, it’s cold outside.
2. 65 degrees—I’m a fan of this degree for many reasons. I see it as the point to where you’re not really sure about the new person you’re dating and you’re trying to keep it a little cooler than usual before you haul off and get into the deep end. It could be that he/she has a reputation about town and you’re still doing your research, or it could be that they have a few things you need to inquire about before you decide to give it your all, like habits and what have you. 65 is the perfect temp to idle for a while and check out your situation, and it’s also a smart strategy so you don’t go from 0 to boiling too fast and end up blowing a gasket. You could also consider this the “time out” degree, as in, cool off, take a step back, and re-evaluate before you do or say something stupid.
3. 75 degrees—Most people are comfortable being outside when it is 75 degrees relative to the humidity, and this is the point in the relationship where you start to get comfortable with each other. You’re going out more, learning all the things you have in common, and meeting each other’s friends. You’ve decided that at 65 everything checked out so you want to turn up the heat a little. Just make sure you don’t stay at 75 forever in the beginning stages of a relationship, because that spells doom. You get too comfortable and you never raise your temperature, you’re going to be sitting around 5 years from now wondering why he/she hasn’t proposed. It’s like the 75% rule—you’re ¾ of the way there, but where’s the other 25%? Is it ever going to make a complete pie chart? Of course after your relationship is on solid, committed ground, 75 is pretty good. You don’t want to be too comfortable here either, so make sure you do something to bring it up to boiling every now and again, but you can spend a lot of time at 75 and be perfectly happy in the long run. You like 75% of what this person’s about, and the other 25% is tolerable.
4. 100 degrees (or 212 for you Fahrenheit-loving Red White and Blue Bleeding Americans)—This is the boiling point—the point where the stars have aligned, all is right with the world, the birds are singing, and the sun is shining. Your amour is perfect in every way, right down to the adorable way he/she drools all over your side of the pillow. You want to share the drool eternally! You want to be there to share every experience, tackle every obstacle, and smell every fart! Good for you! The only problem is, when you hit boiling, you can’t stay there forever. You can only boil for so long before you boil over or you run out of steam. So be careful. Cool it back down to 65 and take stock. It’s hard to do, but it’s going to save you some hassle and possibly keep you from spending the next third of your life going from 0 to boiling and back again. That’s hard on a radiator and it’s hard on a heart.
5. 180 degrees—Ah, the old 180. It’s a classic term used for a complete change in tack, as in “I thought we were getting along great, then he does a complete 180 and dumps me! As if!” Sometimes a 180 is a good thing, if someone’s really turned their life around, but a lot of times the 180 is used in a derogatory sense. I don’t have any words to explain how shitty a 180 can make you feel until you’ve lived it. Anybody is capable of it and you never know when it’s going to strike. But when it does, I bet I know the first words out of your mouth.
6. 360 degrees—I like to use this degree to describe two phenomena—When you are stuck in a vicious cycle of breaking up and making up, thus bringing you full circle in your relationship over and over and never getting out; and when you have come full circle and are ready to stop doing what you’re doing because you see what’s coming and it’s getting you nowhere fast. I like it better in the latter sense, but not everyone has the sense to pull a 360 that way. It’s unfortunate because it usually ends up leading to another 360 of the former sense and then they can’t see the forest for the trees.
Alright, that’s all I’ve got! Let me know what you think!
So I was laying on my couch drinking an entire bottle of pinot grigio and incoherently babbling to my cat in an attempt to figure out what went wrong in my last dating foray when I had an idea. No, it wasn’t that I shouldn’t have had the whole bottle of wine, or even that I shouldn’t be talking to a cat, but this idea of Degrees of Dating. It’s not degrees as in education, but more degrees in terms of measurement—temperature and distance. Just to make it fun, I’ve come up with my own Six Degrees of Dating (not to be confused with Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, though I’m sure if I trace it back far enough I’ve probably dated him by association at some point).
1. 0 degrees (or 32 degrees if you are keeping it strictly Fahrenheit)--this is sort of a double duty degree—it could represent the freezing point of a relationship, where one or both of you decides to throw in the towel, hang it up, dump or be dumped, etc. It could also represent the lack of interest when one party is interested in the other but the feeling is not mutual. You decide. Either way, baby, it’s cold outside.
2. 65 degrees—I’m a fan of this degree for many reasons. I see it as the point to where you’re not really sure about the new person you’re dating and you’re trying to keep it a little cooler than usual before you haul off and get into the deep end. It could be that he/she has a reputation about town and you’re still doing your research, or it could be that they have a few things you need to inquire about before you decide to give it your all, like habits and what have you. 65 is the perfect temp to idle for a while and check out your situation, and it’s also a smart strategy so you don’t go from 0 to boiling too fast and end up blowing a gasket. You could also consider this the “time out” degree, as in, cool off, take a step back, and re-evaluate before you do or say something stupid.
3. 75 degrees—Most people are comfortable being outside when it is 75 degrees relative to the humidity, and this is the point in the relationship where you start to get comfortable with each other. You’re going out more, learning all the things you have in common, and meeting each other’s friends. You’ve decided that at 65 everything checked out so you want to turn up the heat a little. Just make sure you don’t stay at 75 forever in the beginning stages of a relationship, because that spells doom. You get too comfortable and you never raise your temperature, you’re going to be sitting around 5 years from now wondering why he/she hasn’t proposed. It’s like the 75% rule—you’re ¾ of the way there, but where’s the other 25%? Is it ever going to make a complete pie chart? Of course after your relationship is on solid, committed ground, 75 is pretty good. You don’t want to be too comfortable here either, so make sure you do something to bring it up to boiling every now and again, but you can spend a lot of time at 75 and be perfectly happy in the long run. You like 75% of what this person’s about, and the other 25% is tolerable.
4. 100 degrees (or 212 for you Fahrenheit-loving Red White and Blue Bleeding Americans)—This is the boiling point—the point where the stars have aligned, all is right with the world, the birds are singing, and the sun is shining. Your amour is perfect in every way, right down to the adorable way he/she drools all over your side of the pillow. You want to share the drool eternally! You want to be there to share every experience, tackle every obstacle, and smell every fart! Good for you! The only problem is, when you hit boiling, you can’t stay there forever. You can only boil for so long before you boil over or you run out of steam. So be careful. Cool it back down to 65 and take stock. It’s hard to do, but it’s going to save you some hassle and possibly keep you from spending the next third of your life going from 0 to boiling and back again. That’s hard on a radiator and it’s hard on a heart.
5. 180 degrees—Ah, the old 180. It’s a classic term used for a complete change in tack, as in “I thought we were getting along great, then he does a complete 180 and dumps me! As if!” Sometimes a 180 is a good thing, if someone’s really turned their life around, but a lot of times the 180 is used in a derogatory sense. I don’t have any words to explain how shitty a 180 can make you feel until you’ve lived it. Anybody is capable of it and you never know when it’s going to strike. But when it does, I bet I know the first words out of your mouth.
6. 360 degrees—I like to use this degree to describe two phenomena—When you are stuck in a vicious cycle of breaking up and making up, thus bringing you full circle in your relationship over and over and never getting out; and when you have come full circle and are ready to stop doing what you’re doing because you see what’s coming and it’s getting you nowhere fast. I like it better in the latter sense, but not everyone has the sense to pull a 360 that way. It’s unfortunate because it usually ends up leading to another 360 of the former sense and then they can’t see the forest for the trees.
Alright, that’s all I’ve got! Let me know what you think!
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Wookin' Po Nub...
OK Y’all,
So I was in a movie kind of mood the other night, and I couldn’t find anything on the cable movie channels, so I turned to my DVD collection. I picked a classic—Urban Cowboy. For those of you not familiar with this lil’ gem, it’s about a fella named Bud who moves from a small town in Texas to a medium small town in Texas and meets a gal named Sissy at Gilley’s, the local watering hole. They get married, move into a trailer, get in a fight over mechanical bullriding, cheat, and get back together after foiling a robbery, all in the span of about 6 weeks. It’s a fun movie to watch if you are in the mood for some redneck intrigue, and it certainly makes you wonder whatever happened to Mickey Gilley. As I was watching it, I got to thinking about the kind of people Bud and Sissy were—simple, blue collar, poorly educated, and viscerally driven. They have no concept of what life is like outside of their tiny little hamlet; they essentially don’t know any better and don’t want to. And you know what? On a very basic level, their lives indicate that ignorance is bliss. If you don’t know that there’s anything better, if you believe what people say at face value and allow your thoughts and feelings to stay simple and naïve, you can be happy. And I think that’s where I’ve got a problem: I’m too smart for my own good, or at least I’ve learned the hard way too much for my own good. It makes me sad in a way, because I can’t ever take anyone at their word—especially when it comes to dating, and that’s exactly where trust matters the most. When I was younger and just starting out on my dating journey, I believed my boyfriend/date/whatever when he said he hadn’t called because he was out late with friends/stuck at work/whatever. He loved me—how could I not believe him, and how could he not be honest with me at all times? It seemed easy enough. I was always honest with him. When you’re in love, you’re always above board! Boy, did reality come crashing down around me and quick. Blindsided doesn’t even begin to cover it. And that was just the beginning of my difficult and painful education about the inner workings of the human heart. Since then, it seems like I’ve seen it or heard it all, and quite frankly, it’s made me a wary and suspicious person. It’s made me into someone who can’t take a compliment without wondering what the complimentor is hiding or trying to butter me up for. It’s caused me to suspect less than honorable intentions and subterfuge in even the most innocuous of missed connections. And unfortunately, it’s proven me to be right in a HUGE majority of cases. It's disappointing and more than a little upsetting that I am too self-aware to be happy. I would love to be that small town girl with wide eyed optimism who doesn’t know any better and has the myopic vision of a simple heart. It makes me wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then. But I do, and the force is strong with this one. I am working on how to deal with it--until then, I guess I can blog about it.
So I was in a movie kind of mood the other night, and I couldn’t find anything on the cable movie channels, so I turned to my DVD collection. I picked a classic—Urban Cowboy. For those of you not familiar with this lil’ gem, it’s about a fella named Bud who moves from a small town in Texas to a medium small town in Texas and meets a gal named Sissy at Gilley’s, the local watering hole. They get married, move into a trailer, get in a fight over mechanical bullriding, cheat, and get back together after foiling a robbery, all in the span of about 6 weeks. It’s a fun movie to watch if you are in the mood for some redneck intrigue, and it certainly makes you wonder whatever happened to Mickey Gilley. As I was watching it, I got to thinking about the kind of people Bud and Sissy were—simple, blue collar, poorly educated, and viscerally driven. They have no concept of what life is like outside of their tiny little hamlet; they essentially don’t know any better and don’t want to. And you know what? On a very basic level, their lives indicate that ignorance is bliss. If you don’t know that there’s anything better, if you believe what people say at face value and allow your thoughts and feelings to stay simple and naïve, you can be happy. And I think that’s where I’ve got a problem: I’m too smart for my own good, or at least I’ve learned the hard way too much for my own good. It makes me sad in a way, because I can’t ever take anyone at their word—especially when it comes to dating, and that’s exactly where trust matters the most. When I was younger and just starting out on my dating journey, I believed my boyfriend/date/whatever when he said he hadn’t called because he was out late with friends/stuck at work/whatever. He loved me—how could I not believe him, and how could he not be honest with me at all times? It seemed easy enough. I was always honest with him. When you’re in love, you’re always above board! Boy, did reality come crashing down around me and quick. Blindsided doesn’t even begin to cover it. And that was just the beginning of my difficult and painful education about the inner workings of the human heart. Since then, it seems like I’ve seen it or heard it all, and quite frankly, it’s made me a wary and suspicious person. It’s made me into someone who can’t take a compliment without wondering what the complimentor is hiding or trying to butter me up for. It’s caused me to suspect less than honorable intentions and subterfuge in even the most innocuous of missed connections. And unfortunately, it’s proven me to be right in a HUGE majority of cases. It's disappointing and more than a little upsetting that I am too self-aware to be happy. I would love to be that small town girl with wide eyed optimism who doesn’t know any better and has the myopic vision of a simple heart. It makes me wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then. But I do, and the force is strong with this one. I am working on how to deal with it--until then, I guess I can blog about it.
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