Sally Sensitive And The Whining Muskateers

OK, so I get that men like a girl who plays hard-to-get. I understand the whole chase and catching scenario, seduction, mystery, blah, blah, blah. Men, you seem to think that when a girl says no she really means yes(this has nothing to do with sex, in that case no always means no...and there's my responsibility plug), and that all she needs is convincing, and that if she would just give in and "surrender", she would be happy and realize that she really DID want to go out with you and just wasn't aware of how attractive you really are. Or, if you're dating, she just needs a little pushing to get through the times when she's sick of you or you're doing something that pisses her off, because after all, you know what's best for her. Well, here's a completely radical idea: What if women really do know what they want...and it's not more time with you?

I am not in any way condoning the behavior of women who do actually lie and say they want "this" when they really want "that". But, for the women who put it all out on the table and are still hitting the same wall over and over again, let me just say that I have no fucking clue what is wrong with men these days. And no, this is not a man-bashing post. If you know me at all, you know by now that I am an equal opportunity basher. Women do it too. Men tell them that they need space and don't want a serious relationship and that work/school/family/pottery lessons take up most of their time and they really don't have time for a commitment, but then when the women are actually faced with the reality of what that means, they flip out and say that the men led them on. But, since I am a woman, we're going to look at it from the woman's point of view. Men, feel free to tell me that I sound like a guy on this, it's nothing I haven't heard before.

I have been in 3 serious relationships. By serious, I mean that I consider these men to be my ex's and while I was with them I made a reasonable effort to be monogamous and try that thing that starts with a "c"...what is it? Oh yes, compromise. It means that on occasion, I made allowances for their needs, even when they conflicted with my own, and to a almost surprising extent, I sought their advice or opinions when I didn't have to, because hey, that's what you do when you're with someone. But anywhore, I have been in 3 relationships, and countless non-relationships(I dated the guy but never considered him my boyfriend or told him that I was his girlfriend). But no matter the nature of the relationship, I tell every man that I am seeing the same thing, and that is: I am not available 24/7. I enjoy school, and it is the most important thing in my life. I am very focused, I want to be successful and nothing is standing in my way of that. I do not play well with others, I don't like people touching my stuff unnecessarily, and that includes my body. I like my alone time, lots and lots of it. I read, I write, I listen to music and play dress up with my clothes, and I cannot concentrate or do those things if I have to worry constantly that someone else isn't getting enough attention. I don't feel the need to see the person I'm with more than twice a week...maybe three if I'm feeling super special, I have a lot of people in my life that I want to spend time with, and the amount of time I want to spend with someone is directly proportional to how long I've known them. I don't like the phone, and do not, under any circumstances, feel the need to sit and talk on it for hours on end with anyone. The only people I chat with on the phone are my Girlfriends and female members of my family, and that's because we're talking smack about everyone.

But no one ever listens. They say they're listening and that they get it, but they're obviously lying, because about a month into dating, the phone calls start. The phone calls, with the questions, and the accusations.

"Where are you?" - Out
"What are you doing?" - None of your business
"Who are you with?" - People
"Are you busy?" - Extremely
"So, what's up?" - Didn't I just say I'm busy?
"Do you want to go to dinner tonight?" - No
"Do you have plans tonight?" - If you count my couch and Tony Soprano
"Why don't you pick up when I call you?" - I don't want to
"We haven't seen each other in a week." - I knew there had to be a reason that it's been easier to breathe
"Are you mad at me?" - I will be if you ask me one more question
"Can I come over?" - No, if I wanted you in my home I would invite you over myself
"Why do you keep avoiding me?" - Because you never leave me alone
"Is something wrong?" - Yes, you don't listen when I talk to you
"Is there someone else?" - How could I have time to date someone else when you're on me 24/7?
"Why do you leave right after sex?" - Because if I wanted to talk I would call one of my Girlfriends
"Have I done something to upset you?" - I have no idea because you've kept me in a constant state of pissed off for a few days now, so I no longer know what it feels like to NOT be upset
"Are we breaking up?" - I don't care what you do, just leave me out of it


Is it too much to ask for a boyfriend that appreciates distance and autonomy instead of clinging onto someone for dear life? People don't need to be around each other that much, ever. Men, and women, need to stop lying to each other about what they expect and what they can handle. I get it if you want to be in a relationship that's like a dual life support system, but leave me out of it. I'm honest about my limitations and how much I can take and what I have time for, and I would really like one day to find a man that can not only say that he gets it, but can ACTUALLY get it.

Or, at the very least, a man who won't complain about my relationship with my TV.

Sorry, I Have A Freak Out Scheduled For 8:30

The modern woman: She's collected, smart, witty, competent, and knows what she wants. She wastes no time with "maybe's" and "could have's". She is aware of her needs and how to fulfill them. And she is a spaz when it comes to relationships.

I am a modern woman. While I may get stressed out at work or school, I am always able to come back down at the end of the day. I wouldn't dream of walking into my boss's office and announcing that I was leaving, because despite all of the bullshit that my job entails, I love it. I love my boss, I love my co-workers in a very non-loving way, and deep down I know I love the pressure and the experience. On that same note, I wouldn't stop going to school for anything, not even a million dollars. I love school, my professors, my hour-long debates with my classmates, the homework, and most of all the knowledge I gain by going. School is something I do just for me. But for the life of me, I cannot seem to make a relationship stick.

No, I have never been dumped. I am always the person doing the dumping, due to my severe neurosis about men and love. I sabotage relationships because I hate anything that is unpredictable or that doesn't follow a set formula. With school and work it's simple. Go to class, make good grades, graduate, get a job, work hard, climb the ladder, make money, make partner, make a difference. If you're strong willed and don't mind spending 100 or more hours a week at work, it's cake. It's guaranteed, it's YOURS. But with relationships, there's the other person to worry about. Their feelings, their fears, their path in life and how you can make your different paths somehow run parallel. They demand time and energy and commitment...the C word. Oh, commitment, the evil, wicked word that haunts me in my worst nightmares. Who has time for all that?

Let me just give it to you straight: I do not do commitment well, or at all really. I haven't pin pointed the exact moment that it happens, but any guy dating me is guaranteed fidelity for about the first 5 dates, and after that it's a game of "where's my girlfriend", because here's my train of thought after I am appointed some one's significant other: Why am I with this person? Is he what I want? Do I have time for this relationship? I'm too young for this kind of commitment. His voice bothers me. Is he Jewish? Why does he keep staring at me? Can I wear heels and still be shorter than him? Are we spending too much time together? Is it wrong to sleep with him if I don't plan on staying with him? Does he know I make more money than him? Would it bother him if he did? Is that the same shirt he wore the other night? What would my family think of him? What would our kids look like? Why am I thinking about having kids with him? Is this the age I should be looking for something serious? What does he plan to do with his life? Why hasn't he decided on a career yet? Is that a bad sign? Is it going to bother him that work and school come before him? What will he say when I tell him I only want to see him about every two weeks? Are his teeth naturally straight? Will he understand me having so many friends that are men? What are his views on the war? Is he a Republican? Why does he click his tongue like that when he's reading? How long before I can break up with him, and can I do it via email?

So, you see, there is a lot that goes into the freak out process. I have always thought that when I met the right man, all my bullshit would stop and I would be fine. But I'm starting to see that that theory itself is BS. So, I suppose I'll just have to find someone as crazy as me, because God knows I don't want anyone normal. What fun would that be?

Give Me Your Olives Or The Hoagie Gets It

Since becoming a vegetarian - "WHAT?! YOU?!" - Yes, I'm a vegetarian now. Anywhore, since becoming a vegetarian, I've become addicted to veggie subs. Like seriously, I eat them almost everyday. But it's cool because the whole thing only has like 450 calories. SCORE!

But getting these subs has become quite a stressful experience for me. You see, I like a lot of black olives on my subs, and by a lot, I mean like 2-3 handfuls. I heart them, they make my sub, and quite frankly I get a little more than miffed when some crazy person at a well known sub establishment gives me a hard time about the number of olives I require to enjoy my sandwich. It's none of their damn business if you ask me. Which is what I'm here to bitch about today.

Toppings. At most food joints, like sub shops and southwest"grills" they have them to go on your burritos, nachos, sandwiches, what-have-you. Now, when you order food in these places, you have to "pay" for the bread or tortilla you want, your meat of choice(which in my case is none which makes me even more angry when they deny me olives, but we'll get to that later), but the "toppings" are supposed to be "free", meaning that you can get as much as you want, as opposed to having to pay more for extra meat or cheese. In actuality, you're paying for the whole damn sandwich, right down to the wax paper it's wrapped in. Those bastards don't give anything away for free. Not even the air you breathe while in their store.

What kills me about places like this:

1. Their food is supposed to be made to YOUR liking. Not John-Dead-Beat-Can't-Get-A-Better-Job's liking. Not the manager's liking. Not corporate's liking. Not even your Aunt Millie's liking. If they want to regulate the amount of lettuce you get, then they should just make the sandwich themselves and not even ask for your opinion in the first place. Obviously they know better than you do how you like your food. Why even have the glass partition there? Why not just make the food in the kitchen and bring it out when it's done? Why not just TELL people what they want? And what's with that glass partition anyways? What is this, Jail? I mean, what's the point? Are they afraid that someone is gonna jump over the counter and run off with their pickles?

2. If people wanted to be told that they shouldn't be eating something, they would go to their Mother's house. I have parents, thank you. I don't need a whole other group of people saying "You know, you really don't need that much." Was I asking you? No, I was not. I believe what I said was "I would like more jalapenos." If I get heartburn, or indigestion, or have an allergic reaction, isn't that MY business? Since when did the AHA start paying these places to put their two cents in? What business is it of theirs if you want clogged arteries or high cholesterol? Judgement is reserved for Mom and Church/Temple. It has no place in Subway.

3. The people making your food aren't paying for the things they're withholding. What does it matter to the snot nosed kid behind the counter how much damn vinegar you want? So what if you require an inordinate amount of tomatoes? What does it matter to them if you have a thing for cucumbers? I mean, if the amount of toppings you used came out of their paycheck, I could understand that. But it doesn't. Why aren't there more people out there stickin' it to the man?

Yes, I use the term stickin' it to the man. What man I'm stickin' it to exactly, I don't know. I imagine him to be tall, dark, and handsome, and to be sitting in a room with piles of money and sweet n' low, laughing maniacally about the distribution of black olives.

Saving 20 Minutes

I am a total girlie girl. I love all things pink, sparkly, flowery, sweet-smelling, and chocolate. I wear high heels even though they kill my feet(except for the expensive ones which may explain my credit card debt), I put on necklaces and earrings and watches and rings, I agonize over what to wear when I know I'll be seen by people other than my Family and my boss(because, you know, spending 45 hours a week with me kinda shoes you in to fam status), and I ALWAYS wear perfume anywhere I go, because I just love hearing "You smell fantastic" from everyone...even the grocery clerk.

I think most women feel the same way about most of these things. I mean, what's the point of being a girl if you don't smell, feel, taste, and look better than men? There isn't one. But there is one of my/our daily routines that I realized this morning may not be so necessary after all. And let me say this before I go any further: I was kinda pissed when I realized that this routine of mine was not a necessity because like most women, I spend hundreds of dollars every year on these products, hours and hours of my time each month actually doing it, and precious minutes each day making sure it's perfect. My makeup. Yeah, my FREAKING makeup.

I went to the beach on Monday and got severely sunburned. Not so sunburned that I had to go to the hospital or anything, but to me, if I'm in pain, it's severe. SO, I got sunburned on my nose, forehead and shoulders. Since I do not enjoy the burning sensation I get every time I touch my face, I decided to forgo the makeup until the redness dies down. I was a little nervous because I wear makeup everyday. I wear foundation, blush, powder, mascara and chap stick(yes, it's makeup because it's pink). But what I discovered when I walked in to my office and took a glance in the mirror is that I looked exactly the same as when I do wear makeup. Not that my face is red when I wear makeup, the redness has gone away but the pain is still there. BUUTTT....about the looking the same....WTF?!?

I mean, here I am, spending at least 15 minutes every morning putting this shit on my face, and to my horror(but I suppose later glee), I look EXACTLY THE FUCKING SAME! Let me fill you in on what I go through every morning:

1. Foundation to cover any redness or blotchiness that may have sprung up due to a) a heavy night of drinking or b) a heavy night of crying or c) total lack of sleep to do work/men/a/b/ or a horrendous combination of all of the above. Or just to even out my skin tone, aka take away any color so that I can later add it back.

2. Dust my face with powder to keep said foundation from coming off, or to keep myself from being all shiny when the temp outside reaching 20,000 degrees.

3. Put on bronzer and blush to add color BACK to my face, but in a totally I-don't-wear-blush-or-bronzer-because-my-skin-is-naturally-perfectly-toned kinda way.

4. Line my eyes with liner and then apply one coat of mascara to the top lashes and one to the bottom to make my eyes look all shiny and come-hither, but not in a whorish kinda way, just a aren't-I-pretty-kinda way.

I know it's only four steps, but it takes up time that I could be sleeping, or reading a magazine, or sleeping, or watching TV, or sleeping. And I don't even need it!!! I was putting on makeup, as I suspect all women do, to look exactly the same as when we started only slightly less flawed. Well ladies, let me tell you a secret that will save you thousands of dollars and hours of time. Go get a sunburn.

And then go out and spend that money on some clothes...because no matter how red the rest of your body is, you don't look the same naked as you do clothed.

Victims Of Foreclosure

http://realestate.msn.com/buying/Article_busweek.aspx?cp-documentid=5084782&GT1=10233

Unlike most of my blogs whose titles are a spin on a popular catch phrase, this blog is wholly serious and not to be taken lightly. Please click on the link above and read the article.

There is no excuse for abandonment of pets. These creatures are innocent and deserve to be treated with respect and love. It breaks my heart, and makes my stomach sick, to hear that there are people out there who care so little that they leave their animals to die when their own choices lead them to foreclosure.

So please, pass the word on. Even if you just email one person the link, raising awareness is the first step to solving this problem. And if you, like the woman in this article, happen to pass by what looks like an abandoned house, take a moment and call your local pet rescue or even just the police. They will know what to do, and that phone call could be the difference between an animal living or dying.

And if you think this is funny or stupid, or that it's not worth mentioning because one person doesn't make a difference, then keep your thoughts to yourself you sick fuck. No one wants to hear from you.

Thanks all!!

Love, Shana

Are Those Your Socks On My Floor?!?

Maybe it's just me, but the thought of moving in with a boyfriend makes me want to crawl under my covers and hide. I'm a play-it-safe kinda gal, practical to a fault. To my reasoning, I'm not at an age when I know who I want to spend the rest of my life with. The only man who fits that description right now is Ari Gold. Yes folks, I have a celebrity crush, and thy name is Jeremy Piven. But that's WAY off topic and could have me going for hours. He's Jewish, after all.

So, the rest of my life. I have no idea right now who that guy is, and so therefor, no idea who I will be moving in with when I decide to share my space with another human being. That's a big thing, to move in with someone that you're dating. I mean, there's a laundry lost of details to think of. How are the bills being paid? Do I want to be around this person this much? Who's bed are we using? Will we have pets? Can I live with that noise he makes when he's eating pistachios? Do our schedules match up at least some of the time? Does this person want to be around ME this much? How big is the apartment/house? WHERE IS THIS GOING? The last being the most important. Maybe using the phrase "rest of my life" was a bit dramatic. But if not for the rest of it, how much of it? If you're young and in love, how do you know when it's right?

In a world where everything is speeding up, but we're waiting longer to get married and have kids, what's the middle of the road? Should we just take a chance and leap head first in to something we know may not turn out that well, or last that long just because we THINK it's what we want right now? Are we being too cautious by over analyzing and debating and mulling it over? Have we become jaded and spoiled by our own space, our own time, our own bathrooms? Should we be more willing to make the move?

I don't think so. I can only speak from personal experience, but I'm not one to play well with others for long periods of time. Below is my list of advantages to living alone:

1. When you clean something up, it stays clean until you mess it up again.

2. When you're ready to go to bed, you just go to bed. No snoring to wake you up.

3. When you come home, it's quiet. You don't have to see anyone until you choose to.

4. You can buy as many clothes and shoes as your two closets and hallway alcove will hold.

5. You don't have to keep anything but ice cream and vodka in the fridge.

6. You can spend an entire weekend doing nothing but watching old movies and crying if it's that time of month. Sweatpants included. No one will see you.

7. You can decorate your sanctuary with as many flowers, polka dots, sparkles and pink crap as you want.

8. You can listen to your guilty pleasures(mine is Natalie Merchant) as loud as you please. You can even dance around with your hairbrush as your mic.

9. There's no one to complain of feeling that your vibrator is replacing them.

10. Everyone woman needs her space. And by space I mean bathroom.

Reasons to have a man around:

1. To carry the groceries in.

2. Unlimited sex.

3. To fix stuff.

4. To eat that strange casserole looking thing that you made.

I'm sure there are other advantages to living with a man that I am unaware of, but this is my blog and so the list stays at 4.

I'm not saying that I DON'T enjoy having a man around. I enjoy having them with me to share many of life's pleasures, such as traveling, cooking, watching the sunrise, swimming, and cuddling(although I must admit that I can only take that for about 5 minutes and then I'm done). But at the end of the day, until I find my Mr. Right To Move In With, I just want my space.

And my own bathroom.

Dressed To Impersonate

I dislike traditional dating for many reasons. There's the uncomfortable silences, the guess work in who's paying for what, and the much anticipated excitement of the goodnight kiss. Sometimes people have nothing in common, sometimes it's not appropriate for the man to pick up the tab, and sometimes the chemistry just isn't there. But the thing I will never understand, or like, about dating is the complete lack of reality the situation creates. You have two people dressed up, sitting across from each other in a restaurant they probably won't go to again until their first anniversary, telling each other stories about their lives and families, all the while wondering what the other thinks of them. It's not realistic. It's not honest. It's torture.


Dating is supposed to be a chance for two people to get to know one another. So, the following are my suggestions of REAL dates that two people who are considering dating each other should go on in order to expedite the process, and cut through all the bullshit.


1. Grocery Shopping: You can tell a lot about person by looking at what they eat. You can also gauge how willing they are to cater to your cravings for things such as blue cheese and Cosmopolitan magazine. In my opinion, the first time you go shopping with your new love is a very important step in getting to know who it is that you're really with. You find out what hair products and deodorant they use, what cereal they start their day with, what kind of TP they prefer. What if you're a double roll, two ply kind of gal, and he's still stuck in the one ply, shred-your-ass-to-pieces days. Are they a vegetarian, or carnivore? When you go to their house, will you find your favorite soda in their fridge, or be stuck with soy milk and fiber cookies? Do they use creamer in their coffee? Or do they take it black? Will they be insulted if you chow down on pasta while they sit nibbling on a piece of celery? So, go shopping with them. Find out what's going in to their body. Don't forget tampons while you're there.


2. Social Security Office: Nothing tests a person's patience like the SSO. Crowds of sweaty, stinky, impatient people with screaming babies who don't speak English surround you as you and your love interest try to get to know each other. This will help you to see just how much self control they have. Do they start screaming that it's hot and they just can't take it anymore? Do they start making racist comments under their breath, or even better, out loud? Do they lose it with the person at the counter because the line wasn't moving fast enough? Watch and learn. If they start to pick fights with the other applicants, get out of there stat.


3. Laundry: This is really where it gets good. If Grocery Shopping tells you a lot about a person, then doing laundry with someone is the equivalent of giving each other barium enemas. It all starts with the underwear. Boxers, Briefs, Tighty Whities? Thongs, French Cut, Ganny panties? How clean do they keep themselves? Do their clothes reek of smoke and beer, or have huge rips and stains on them? Do they separate their whites and colors? Do they use fabric softener and dryer sheets, or do they throw caution to the wind and brave the static cling and harsh feel of washed cotton on their skin? Do they have system to keep their socks together? Do they own clothes that require dry cleaning? Do they have laundry day clothes that aren't completely hideous and embarrassing? As soon as you spot skid marks, it's time to get out of there. No good can come of that.


4. Holiday Shopping: OK, let me start by saying that if you dare to go Holiday Shopping with someone, you had better know that there's the potential to be VERY in to them, and vice versa. Whether you are picking out gifts to be wrapped in red and green, or blue and silver, all religions have one thing in common. The gifts had better be good. You do NOT want to be involved with someone who doesn't even make a rough outline of their strategy. What shops are they going to? Do they know where they're located so as to avoid having to double back? Do they plan to be up at dawn to beat the crowds? Do they have their budget written out? Do they have gift ideas, complete with back ups, listed with pictures and color coded depending on who they are going to? If not, you should ask yourself "Do I really want to be involved with someone who is this unorganized when it comes to these kinds of things?" Seriously people, I speak from experience on this one, holiday shopping will tear couples apart faster than an STD.


5. Family Brunch: It's true that when you date someone, you are dating the family as well. You need to get to know these people, and the sooner the better. I suggest a nice place on the water, or at least with an awesome view of whatever city you live in. There's a few things to check for in this situation. One, if you drink, do they drink? You need to be able to be yourself around them, and if yourself is a lush, better to get it out in the open now. If Mom doesn't have a hard drink by 11 am, this relationship may not be for you. Two, if you laugh, do they laugh? A shared sense of humor with at least one of the parents is imperative. Can you talk about the important things in life, like gossip and politics? Do they listen and nod, or is Dad rolling his eyes? Three, when you order a huge steak with your eggs, do they order the veggie platter? We're all people, and we have to learn to respect each other's differences. If you don't want meat, or they don't go anywhere near dairy, everyone has to agree to disagree. The minute someone opens their mouths about your eating habits, politely excuse yourself and don't forget to take the champagne with you.


There you have it. These dates guarantee that you don't waste anytime getting to know who someone really is. No more guessing games, no more button down shirts and high heels for no good reason. Just the truth, plain and simple.


Plus, who the hell wants to sit across the table from a stranger all night wondering whether or not you have spinach in your teeth when you can just go ahead and show them your underwear?

Is He A Member Of MENSA?

Everyone has a "type". A certain kind of person that "fits the bill" so to speak. In my ongoing attempt to figure out what exactly is wrong with me, or why I have no man in my life, I came to two conclusions: 1. I haven't been looking/putting myself out there. I highly doubt that my next boyfriend is waiting for me at the bottom of that bag of chips, or in the new J. Crew catalogue, or on my computer that I'm chained to. 2. I think I might be too picky. Yeah, I know what you're thinking.

"You, Shana? Picky?!? NEVER!"

Well, let me just tell you, I don't appreciate your sarcasm. I'm being serious. What if I'm too picky about the men I date, or plan to date? My type, in case anyone wants to know, is as follows: Smart, has to be able to make me laugh, has to be able to laugh at himself, Preppy(gimme a break, I went to private school), ambitious, adventurous, well traveled, well read, and preferably Jewish. If he is not Jewish, he has to be willing to raise our children in the Jewish faith. That's just the way it goes. I would also like for him to somehow be involved in the legal profession, or if he is not, he should be able to handle having a wife/GF that is. Also, I like to shop. I'll use my own money, but the man needs to have enough of his own to buy food. What can I say, I like my shoes.

So, now that you know the kind of guy I'm looking for, let's examine the types of guys I've dated in the past. Perhaps this list will give me/us(I rely on my readers/friends to give me feedback) some insight. Here it is, my dating/personal history:

BMW Guy: Ah, the beamer guy. He was older, he was rich, and he was metro sexual. From him I learned about fashion, social graces, and how to hold my alcohol. He was nice enough, very attractive, and certainly knew how to work a room. He came from an affluent family, and needless to say, had many years and dollar signs on me. But, he bugged the shit out of me. He was jealous, possessive, and probably gay. He had serious issues with his father, and really didn't seem to like women. So, although it was fun while it lasted, the party had to end.

College Guy: College guy was what you could call and "All American Man". He was strong, good looking, went to a local University, and could out-drink all of our friends. He was an FSU devote, loved football, and was about 3 years my senior. He had red hair, and was only 2 inches taller than me. My high heels had to be put away during this relationship because, and no I am not ashamed to admit this, I didn't like being taller than my boyfriend. But it was not to last. As it turned out, he was an alcoholic(much like BMW Guy) and a huge baby. He never matured past the age of 12. So, although he gave me my first taste of the collegiate lifestyle, he just wasn't quite right.

Musician Guy: Musician Guy was so much fun. But, no job. Nuff said.

Surfer Guy: Perfect Boyfriend, for someone else. I loved to work, he loved to play. I was awake during the day, he was awake at night. I actually dated Surfer Guy twice. The first time we broke up because of problems with his "equipment", which turned out to be a side effect of his social phobia. The second time we broke up because I just had no time for a relationship, and he wanted a GF that was able to do the same things he was. Like surfing all day and drinking all night. Plus, and I know this is going to sound snobbish, he had no ambition. He quit his job while we were on our second go 'round so that he could surf more. So, although he was adorable and picture perfect, that was the last straw.

Mortgage Broker Guy: Owned his own company, good dresser, 14 years older than me. Huge ego. Weird eating habits. Horrible in bed. Liar. To this day I think he was a serial killer and I somehow got out just in time.

And these were just the "major" relationships. There were many others that were "friends" and others still that aren't even worth mentioning. The thing that gets me is that none of them, for some reason or another, ever really fit the bill. Most of them, like Surfer Guy, I knew weren't right for me. But I dated them anyway.

So, what have I/we learned? No babies, or alcoholics, or men without jobs. Yeeaaahhhhhh....THAT narrows it down.

Oh, and no serial killers. I should write that down so I don't forget.

Cheeseburgers And Cocaine

I am an American. I believe in a free economy, traditional family values, cheeseburgers and milkshakes, and John Wayne. I enjoy football games, the Superbowl half time show, and being able to draw up a lawsuit against anyone at any time...for any reason. I love this country.


What I don't love is the completely illogical and asinine worship of cocaine snorting, commando going, Scientology following, pseudo intellectual, fake Jews we call "Starlets". These girls are not stars. In fact, they're the opposite of what stars should be. They are not beautiful, they are not graceful, and they certainly can't act. They can lose weight, make money, and embarrass their parents and America as a whole for setting an example of what we as a nation have come to value as "talent" and "entertainment". Long gone are the days of Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly, and Natalie Wood. I'm sure Vivian Leigh wouldn't be spending her time doing a second stint in rehab, just after collapsing from alcohol poisoning. Marylin Monroe never looked like a skeleton and called it chic. These real women of Hollywood, or what Hollywood once was, would never have thought to make fools of themselves for the sake of publicity. They didn't need to flash the camera or make a scene while drinking under age to get in the papers or on the silver screen. Their natural ability to hold some one's attention, a nation's attention, came from who they were and what they could really do. Not from sleeping with their best friend's boyfriend or almost dropping their baby on the sidewalks of New York.


What's worse than these people making money off of their antics, is that we are to blame. We buy into all of their shit and go to see their crappy movies. We laugh as they jump up and down on couches or tattoo their bodies while practicing Kabalah. We feel bad for them if they lose their husband to some tramp who was just looking for a New Years Eve hook-up. We enable them to continue on in their debauchery. We need to STOP! This is not entertainment. It's life, and it's real, and it's sad.


And it's fucking annoying when some nice Jewish doctor is out there putting YOUR six carat ring on the bony finger of a crack whore, I mean actress.

Lord, Help Me Help Myself

Not the usual blog today. I'm going to be gone for the weekend, and won't be writing again until Monday. But, oh the DRAMA! Ex boyfriends, ex lovers, family members being drug up from the depths of my own personal hell...AKA Canada. AAGGHHHH!!

I need a break. I'm house sitting this weekend. I'm NOT moving off the couch.

See ya' Monday! I'll fill everyone in then on what's goin' on...promise :-)