My friend Carly and I were chatting on the phone this morning about how pathetic dating has become, and about how hard it is to find a GOOD guy. Sure, they all have redeeming qualities, and I’m sure some of them are good. The good ones are already paired off, or gay. Simple as that.
Guys are SO hard to understand. They all crow about how they want a “good” girl, and one they can be themselves around. No, they don’t. They want the girl who will suck them off during halftime in time for them to get back to the bar with their friends, and then have the house clean when they get home. OH and for them to not sleep over or keep any of their things at his house. Forgive me for being harsh, but the majority of men who I have encountered most certainly are NOT ready for a real girl. They just say they are, and when a real one shows up they have no idea what to do with her.
I have dated every extreme of man you can find. And all of them had something in common. Me. Let’s take a trip, shall we? A sort of “This is Your Relationship Life”…
My first boyfriend ever was D. He was athletic, handsome, popular, but not too bright. He taught me how to kiss, and told me I was pretty. We broke up when I found out that he was checking out my friend’s legs and trying to get her phone number.
My second boyfriend was B. He was total bad boy all the way. Smoked, drank, pothead, walking the railroad tracks at 3 in the morning… Perfect for good old teenage rebellion. He was also my “first”, you know what. It was awkward being with him physically, because I had no idea what I was doing; but he seemed patient. He became frustrated with my unwillingness to participate in certain activities (Oral sex), and cheated on me with some girl named Sara. She must have had a hallway for a throat. But I digress.
I moved to a different town after that, and began dating D. He was a football player, and bought me lots of presents. The one thing I will always remember about him was that he came over for dinner once and put everything in the world on his hot dog. In summary: Ketchup, Mustard, Mayo, Onions, Pickles, Cheese, Chili, BBQ Sauce, Tomatoes, Ranch Dressing, and Salsa. OH and he smooshed potato chips on top of the whole horrible mess. I’m not making this up. The end of this relationship came when I became annoyed with his eating habits. Yes, my friends, I was the bitch this time. I broke up with him in my kitchen, and while he cried at my table I ran into the other room and laughed with my mom’s boyfriend. I honestly feel bad about it.
After D, I went through a “friendly” phase where I wasn’t dating anyone but I was really flirty. I met M at this time. M is the boys’ dad. I didn’t like M right away; I found him to be clingy and annoying. But eventually he grew on me, and there he would stay for 4 damn years. What can I say about M? He was un-motivated, disloyal, a professional at stretching the truth. My relationship with him was tumultuous, and ended very badly. He still to this day, 10 years later, does not acknowledge or believe his part in the breakup.
After the breakup with M, I was alone for about 2 years. I did not have relationships, but was very flirty, and very friendly. With a lot of people. I’m not ashamed, because I have no reason to be. I friended people from pool players to college students to gas station attendants. If you had a Kamikaze, I was your friend. I hate Kamikazes now.
When I was done with my selfish phase, I met D; the girls’ dad. I hated him the minute I met him, but was drawn to him for some reason. He is loud, boisterous, cocky, and the biggest momma’s boy I have ever met in my life. No, seriously. I have stories that would make you cringe. I’m surprised he let her milk dry up. My relationship with D was loving; I mean he was a great guy. He’s the best father I know; and very protective of those he cares about. Unfortunately, his version of protective can be construed as controlling by people who don’t agree with the methods he takes to protect. I’m one of those people, and this is why he and I don’t get along as relationship partners.
So since D I haven’t really been in a relationship. It’s been 6 years. I’ve dated men for a couple of months at a time, but it always (ALWAYS) ends the same way… I’m not what they are looking for; Thanks for the sex but I’d like to keep this casual; How dare you ask what I’m doing 3 weeks from now and try to invite me to your friend’s birthday; I have suddenly developed a lack of time to pursue this… Every excuse, I’ve heard it. I promise. And I guess I’ve re-developed my selfish phase. I’ve worked hard to get where I’m at and I deserve to be with someone who can appreciate that and not only be proud of it but not be intimidated by it. It’s OK that I can go to work, do the laundry, deglaze the sauce for tonight’s chicken, correct the boys’ homework, feed the cats, sew up the girls’ stuffed animal, and do the crossword puzzle from the TV Guide all without batting an eye. Embrace it. You don’t have to be intimidated, just be ready with a backrub when I DO finally sit down. It will totally be worth your while. Trust.
Well, laughing on the phone with Carly today was pretty therapeutic. We have decided that if the market doesn’t pick up, that we are going to become lesbian life partners. But we’ll cheat on each other with guys, because neither one of us can make the journey down under. What is wrong with that picture? LOL
But why not, seriously? I love women. We are strong, adaptable, able to leap tall piles of shoes in a single bound… We’ve got it all.
I don’t think they make closets big enough for our combined wardrobes, though. I think she’s the only person I know personally who has more shoes than I do. Well maybe except for Elle… She’s got a ton of shoes too!!!
See, Elle would be a good pick too for a life partner. She is organized, good at keeping a home running, and the girl is HILARIOUS. And of course, super cute.
Jen can’t even say “pussy” so she’s out. Hahahaha Just kidding… I love Jen to death but she is very committed to her man. You have to admire that in the girl.
I guess I’ll always be seeking that one special someone. Hmph. If you see him, send him my way.