There's no crying in baseball, you need to get out of the ballpark for that nonsense.

My biggest personal fail in my relationships – or lack there of, lesbihonest – has got to be overthinking every detail until I have convinced myself it’s ruined, and then it’s ruined. I always just assume it’s because they guy is a dick; and if we’re being fair, probably eight times out of ten that’s true. So like... that other two times though…

Perhaps, just maybe, in my attempt to be completely indifferent towards feelings and emotions and relationships and shit like that, there’s a little, tiny, super small possibility that I might potentially be unconsciously sabotaging my own romantic encounters. Using my excellent over thinking skills, I can say that I probably, without a doubt, send mixed signals about what I want, totally expecting the guy to pick up on whatever it is I actually want, even when I’m not 100% sure myself. But like, he should know, right? And don’t even get me started on the completely terrifying idea of actually being bold. Like, maybe telling him how I feel or asking him to hang out with me on Christmas because we both have no plans and it’s totally casual and he can say no if he wants but it’s just an idea and totally cool if not.  Yes, these are what my thoughts sound like and no, it’s definitely not weird.  

So, is making bold moves a bad thing? Or is that how all these girls I know get boyfriends and I – unknowingly – get fuck buddies and fucked over? Too soon to tell, but probably. And believe it or not, it has just recently dawned on me that this is even a possibility. See, I’ve been spending the last few years thinking that feelings are bad and scare guys away – which they do, because guys freak out over EVERYTHING. I also spend the majority of my time with a guy trying to avoid being clingy and end up coming off distant in my sad attempt at playing it cool. But like, what’s the worst that could happen? I let down my guard a bit and he says “oh no thanks, I’m good with the casual” and I say, “oh ok, that’s cool, I don’t have feelings either. Let’s keep having sex while I cry at home.”

I mean, it’s a pretty bold move to actually stop sleeping with someone when they tell you that’s all they want, so tiny celebration parade for me. But boldness to move something forward rather than stopping it is a whole other ballpark, one that I do not usually play in. And in all honesty, continuing to see a guy when I can’t even remotely trust what is going on with us is a very hard thing for me to do. So yes, maybe I’m unknowingly ruining my own potential relationships with fear, but hey, you dickheads made me that way, so deal.

Guys love the game, and that’s all it is to a lot of them. And when you’ve been an unwitting player in the game of “I bet I can get into your pants”, how do you ever really know when you’re no longer playing? Because that’s a ballpark I am all too familiar with and it is surprisingly similar looking to the other one; the one I dare not enter. And let’s play devil’s advocate here; maybe I’m comfortable with oblivious crushes on guys who don’t like me while we have sex and I cry at home. It gives me an excuse to buy Cosmo and eat chocolate and drink beer. Because like, that’s really what woman want.

So back to my point… is being bold and taking chances the only way to get what you want? Or is it the fastest way to scare a guy away? I really have no freaking idea because I haven’t really tried, but hey, you never know how hard you can hit until you step up to bat, right? So go for it. Even if he throws you a curve ball, hit it all the way into the next ballpark, the one you want to be in, the unknown territory for little commitmentphobes like me. You might end up getting what you want and hopping the ballpark fence, or at the very least, you’ve got a great excuse to buy chocolate and Cosmo.

My dating habits are similar to those of Taylor Swift...

I’ve come to realize lately that I, in fact, know nothing about dating and anyone who reads this blog should most definitely not take any advice from me on how to do so successfully. I do, however, have a pretty good idea of what not to do at this point, so feel free to take notes on that.

That being said, here is my latest rant, ill-advised advice column, “dating” story for your enjoyment. Oh, how nice I am to lay my heart out and all it’s embarrassingly horrific memories for your entertainment. This is why Taylor Swift gets Grammys. I get nothing.

I am feeling more than ever like T-swift these days, and I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. Her latest album pretty much describes every dating situation I get myself into. Luckily for T-Swift, she can turn it into a million dollar CD; I however turn it into dating complexes. Mine’s funnier though, so I’ve got that. Most recently, I’ve rediscovered the joy of being rebounded by a friend. What a great feeling that is; I wonder why I have very carefully avoided these situations for so long. Oh yes, because it fucking sucks. I made a rule about six years ago to never go out with or get involved with anyone (especially a friend) who has recently ended a relationship. Past experience tells me that said friend will use you to get over their ex and make them feel better, and then casually dismiss anything you thought you might have had. It’s really a lot of fun – insert eye roll here.

Well, silly me, I recently broke this rule for the exception. You know, the one who is wearing a sign that says, “I will rebound you” but is cleverly hidden by another sign saying, “I’m totally over my ex, this is so much more than just sex”. That cover sign is a lie. That should be a give in, though, to never rebound your friends. Why do guys seem to have such a hard time with that concept? To be fair, girls can have just as hard a time not crossing that barrier. Just remember, ladies and gents, if there is a possibility of you being a completely shitty person or even kind of a shitty person, leave your friends alone. Find someone who isn’t going to lose years of friendship by you being just a tad bit selfish or, you know, really shitty.

And while we’re on the subject, we should all be up front about what we want. I appreciate a guy who tells me from the start that he’s just looking to sleep with me much more than a guy who makes me think he likes me, or wants something more with me. But, in the end, no matter how shitty that person may have been, I believe it’s all for the better. Trust me, even if it doesn’t seem like it, better things will come. That person was not for you, thank God, because they were kind of shitty, right? Just be glad you dodged a bullet because someone much better, your knight with a shining Sword, the girl of your dreams, is right around the corner, if you just let go of the shitty people in your past. Don’t carry that shit around with you; it drags you down and gets you no where.

"So hey, let's be friends. I'm dying to see how this one ends. Grab your passport and my hand; I can make the bad guys good for a weekend." - Taylor Swift, Blank Spaces. AKA, my love life in a nutshell. 

Beer and blogging go great together.

I am well aware it’s been a while since my last blog post – almost two months, I think. But after the last lovely date I had, I once again swore off dating and the inspiration was lacking. But rest assured, the blog is not done, it just hit a bit of a speed bump.

After about four years of disastrous dating experiences – you’re welcome – I decided to take a new approach to dating; I don’t like that word, it’s too full of pressure. Let’s say a new approach to going out with guys. Maybe I need to be friends with someone before I can date them. I recently tried out this new approach and, luckily for me, it seems to be working so far. But I am a creature of habit, and no matter how well things may be going at the moment, the girl who wrote all those other blog posts is still expecting shit to hit the proverbial fan. Let me share with you a metaphor for dating I so cleverly thought up while washing my hair.

I live in a fairly old house and a lot of the amenities aren’t as efficient as they are in newer houses – like hot water. The hot water in my house is a cruel, unforgiving creature that only works in ONE machine at a time. Shower, dishwasher or laundry machine, you can have one, not all. The hot water in the shower runs out after about fifteen minutes and doesn’t come back for forty-five. I like to think of most “flings” as being the same way. At the beginning – the very short beginning – you have this great heat, and it’s awesome, like your wonderfully hot shower. Then out of nowhere, that bitch of a hot water tank, or the guy you’re flinging with, turns cold with no warning and the heat is gone. And no matter how hard you try to get that hot water back, you can’t. You’re showering in cold water and it’s time to get out. Wow, that’s deep. THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID. …I’m sorry for that one; I really can’t help it.

FYI, that is the most profound thing I will say for a long while, so please appreciate the almost too clever mediocrity of that wonderful shower metaphor.

So as I was saying, being a creature of habit, I am constantly expecting the hot water to shut off without notice. It happens in real life all the time, literally the shower though, metaphorically, just most of the time. And if you’re like me, you probably have this little routine of overthinking everything until you believe it’s ruined, and then you actually ruin it. It’s great fun, but I don’t advise anyone do this to themselves.

The great thing though, is if you start hanging out with someone who is actually a good human being – a very attractive, good human being (wink) – they will keep giving you reasons to stop ruining things, rather than reasons to believe the hot water’s about to run out. Don’t get me wrong, you – me – will still find some way to screw things up, but if you’ve got a good thing going, the other person might not notice the distant texts you’re sending them in the attempt to not be clingy. And in that case, hopefully you’re just ruining things in your head and not in real life! And that, my friends, is how you beat the metaphorical hot water tank. And if all goes well, maybe he will take you out for Chinese food, because the best way to romance a woman is to take her out for Chinese food. Extra points for you if you know what that’s from.

You don't win friends with salad. - Homer J. Simpson

Throughout my adventures as a single lady, I encounter a wide variety of men who I sometimes go out with. I don’t always write about the dates I go on because, quite frankly, they’re usually not all that interesting, good or bad. But finally, the long-awaited terrible, bad date has happened, and I’m going to tell you all about it. The story comes with four rules and a nice little rant at the end.

I went out with a charming older man a couple weeks ago – and by charming I mean full of himself, and by older man I mean 28 and living at home. He was fit and obviously spent a lot of time at the gym, never a bad thing, right? We went to eat and watch a football game (literally my favourite date ever) and it started going downhill from the start. By they way, it’s really hard to ruin any date that involves football, so good job, fit guy. The first rule is you can’t out order the guy; you don’t want to be that girl. You also don’t want to be that girl or guy who orders water and a salad on the first date. You especially don’t want to be the guy who doesn’t just order a salad, but first asks what the healthiest thing on the menu is. First thought: shit, now you have to order a salad.

Which leads to the second rule: when the girl is discussing salad dressings with the waitress who “isn’t really a salad eater”, don’t condescendingly say to her “oh, you’re not a salad eater?” Second thoughts: shit, now the waitress thinks I’m just like him.

First impressions are everything, and when you order on a first date like this, that impression is not going be great. Third rule: when the girl (me) tells you she used to be fat, don’t follow that up with this question: “Did you date a lot when you were fat?” and when she says no, don’t follow that up with: “Do you date more now?” with a condescending tone in your voice. Oh, thank you sir.  Good thing when girls lose weight they also lose every insecurity they ever had about not getting a guy because she was fat. Otherwise that might have made me feel a little bit shitty. *enter sarcastic eye roll here.* And I know he thinks you can’t date if you’re not perfect; there was three hours worth of shitty conversation to back up that theory.

Fourth and final rule: when your date has gone as swimmingly as this one has, it’s never really a good idea to look down at your 5’ tall date and say kiss me and leave no time for her to say no. This isn’t Gone With the Wind, you can’t say that and expect a positive response in 2014.

And this brings me to my rant. Can I say how shitty it is when your self worth is based on how much you weigh, or how big your love handles are, or if you have abs? Everywhere I look, people are talking about weight. Whether they’re saying positive or negative things, it’s everywhere. When did we start making a personal weight issue everyone’s issue? I hate seeing fat shaming, skinny shaming, slut shaming, and any other shaming we are doing. Can we all just stop with the self-hate and the body image hate? If you don’t want someone to see you naked, do it in the dark. If you don’t like the way your thighs look in skinny jeans, wear yoga pants. They make your ass look great, no matter what. No one should let the way they look stop them from doing anything. If you’re smart, find other smart people because they won’t give a shit if you have a few extra pounds. They’re smarter than that. And if you or someone else thinks you’re not skinny or pretty enough to sleep with hot guys, then good for you, you dodged a bullet. No one wants to be with those people anyways; they have shitty personalities and should stay with other shitty people who think the same way. Ahem, my lovely, judgmental date.

I just wish we could all get along like we used to in middle school. I wish that I could bake a cake made out of rainbows and smiles, and we’d all eat it and be happy.

She doesn’t even go here.

Ok, just go home.

To hermit or not to hermit

I am going back to school this year – please, hold your applause, I’ve already changed career directions – and as the summer ends and the new semester starts, I can’t help but think about my current, and most common, social situation. I make an excellent hermit, but a shitty social butterfly. Sometimes I just want to sit on the couch in my PJs and binge watch Rookie Blue, and by sometimes, I mean everyday. It’s not hard to fall into this kind of a social slump when all of your friends are settling into domestic bliss; when there’s no one left to go bar hopping with, you have to stay in, right?

The real question is: do you keep being social, meeting new people, new guys, in the hopes that you can find someone to sit on the couch with and binge watch TV? Because that just kind of seems like backwards thinking; socialize to reach your end goal of mutual hermitism. (That’s something I just made up entirely, as hermitism isn’t even a real word, but I feel like I can provide enough evidence to make it legit.) I realized that my particular hermitism – this is becoming a thing, just watch – had reached critical levels when my mother forced me to go to a frosh week party to “meet people” and “make some friends”. Now don’t misunderstand that; I have plenty of friends, and by plenty I mean a handful. But my social awkwardness has reached an almost deadly state that my mom feels the need to push me into social situations I’m not comfortable with. To clarify, the social situations I’m not comfortable with are any situations involving myself and any number of people I don’t know when I don’t have the comfort of my job in the way. And I know what you’re thinking, that sounds like every social situation; and you would be right. That’s how good of a hermit I am.

Now that we’ve cleared up my hermit skills and lack of social skills, we can get back to the real question: is it worth it to subject yourself to social situations in the hopes of meeting a fellow hermit whose mother sent them out to meet friends? On second thought, two of those people in one friendship or relationship sounds like a nightmare; if you’re anything like me, try to find someone with even an ounce of people skills so you two don’t become serial killers together. I know that seems extreme, but with all the crime shows I watch, I’m fairly certain that’s how serial killer friendships are made. I wouldn’t risk it if I were you. I digress.

Yes, maybe, perhaps, every now and then it is worth it to meet people out of your circle and comfort zone so you have some normal friends. Although, who am I to give advice when most of my friends are coworkers (all of my friends) and most of my dates are customers I hit on; I’m not a creep, they love it. But speaking from experience, you rarely meet cute guys laying in bed or sitting on the couch, and if you do, call the police because they’re strangers and shouldn’t be there. You also don’t make friends in pajamas and sweat pants, the hermit’s uniform. If your plan is to live alone with bunches of cats – no judgment, that sounds lovely – use this post as a hermit reference guide, and feel free to post your questions, as I’m quite an expert (also, see every other post with the word ‘cat’ in it, as they are all helpful how-to’s on becoming a lonely hermit, just read between the lines). But if that doesn’t happen to be your plan, which is probably the better choice of the two, so good job, then I would highly suggest hanging up your hermit clothes once every week or two, put on some jeans and go somewhere with lots of people, i.e. a bar, a party, the train, school, the street, the dog park (dog people will never die alone, not like cat people), or anywhere else you see a gathering of people. Just make sure it’s not a gang or cult, because those are not the people you want to associate with. And if those are the only gatherings you know of, put your sweats back on and immediately revert back to hermitism because you’ve already made too many poor choices.

Do you believe in soul mates?

When it comes to finding the one, many people take up the belief in soul mates. And I can understand that; it’s nice to think there is one perfect person for you out there and if you just give it time, fate will you bring you together. I, however, do not choose to believe in soul mates or even fate, for that matter. For one, I’m far too much of a realist to believe that everything will always work out perfectly – because it won’t – and I also don’t feel like waiting around for fate to fuck up my life – or make it better, for you optimists. I don’t like chalking everything up to fate and the universe and am an avid believer that life can take you in millions of different directions, and that you choose which direction. When it comes to life and love, I’m not so much of an everything happens for a reason person but more of a shit happens person.

Of course, there are always those few exceptions like my best friend whose life really does follow the everything happens for a reason rule, but for the rest of us like me, I like thinking that my life is in my own hands. And that’s why I don’t believe in fate or soul mates, and I bet I can prove that it’s a much for comforting and romantic belief than you might think.

I have always believed that people come together based on circumstance. People of less means tend to be friends and lovers with other people in the same situation. The same is usually said for those with all the means and luxuries of the world – they tend to hand around with other rich and luxurious people. I’m not saying they don’t ever cross paths; but when they do I don’t believe that’s fate. I think that whatever direction you choose to go, you will end up somewhere you belong. And that’s why I don’t like the idea of soul mates, that there’s only one perfect person out there for you and x, y, and z needs to happen or you’ll miss them and your life will be ruined. I believe there are hundreds of perfect people for everyone, and whatever path you choose, you will run into one of them. And I find that comforting; that no matter what direction you go, you will find people who are perfect for you. Unless that direction is murder; because the perfect people you will find are murder victims and I don’t think anyone should find comfort in that path.

So as long as your direction is legal and morally right, I think you should be happy that you are bound to meet the love of your life. Takes the pressure off, doesn’t it?