secretary...

Honestly, I relate more to this than most other movies about love. Because really, who says love has to be a certain way to be real, worthy or good? Love how you want and who you want, that’s my opinion.

Plus, I was an awful secretary.

On the road again...

I’m hitting the open road! I’m on the highway to hell!

Actually I’m going on a road trip with my pops to visit my grandmother in Missouri. My dad was suppose to go by himself, but we just found out my grandma is having valve replacement surgery on the twelfth. Now I’ve volunteered to drive up with him and help out if I can. My grandmother and I aren’t very close and I’m hoping to change that with this trip as well as catch up with my dad’s side of the family. Plus, a half-cross country trip with my father is just too bizarre to pass up.

This couldn’t have come at a better time seeing that I the only job I have a chance of getting involves slinging fries and I’m going a bit stir crazy in my house thinking way too much about myself. I have twenty-six more days until I start school and couldn’t figuring out how to fill that time other than sitting on my ass watching TV or plunging into a deep depression. Now I have something to do. And a girl like me always needs something to do.

So, to all my friends out there: I’m leaving Tuesday, March 6th so if you want to hang out before I go then give me a call before time runs out! And I'm not coming back!

Okay, I am coming back in two weeks, so you will see me again. I know, I know...

You have to earn that extra woman...

Okay, I don't want to be one of those blogs that relies on YouTube for content, but this was too funny not to share. Enjoy the comic stylings of Ms. Wanda Sykes.

More Match.com conversations...

The headline on my match.com profile is "Men are so Easy...Neil Diamond said it best." (from this song) It's a joke meant to attract the kinda fellas who like absurd, quirky gals like me. Yesterday I get this email:

If we were so easy you wouldn't be single.

Oh, snap! Who is this fella who doesn’t get the joke? Well, his name is Eddie; he’s 42 years old and looking for a “classy, sexy and fun” lady he can show off all his Karate moves to. After reading his profile I can just sense that he’s the kind of guy who likes a simple kinda gal without opinions and heavily drugged on anti-depressants. So, I wrote:

No, I'm single because I'm the one that's not easy.

And Mr. Potcallingthekettleblack wrote this:

Perhaps you should loosen up a bit

Yep, I’m one of those uptight women who won’t be a fun slutty whore for a charming fellow like you. I just suck. So I wrote back:

I just find that men want it to be fun all the time. And when I'm not, as all people are from time to time, I get labeled as difficult or not easy.

I don't really think men are easy, but I do like poking a little fun at them from time to time. Lighten up. :)

And then Mr. Personality 2000 sent me this gem of a letter that single-handedly restored my faith in men:

We are very simple....All we want is a sexy woman who'll screw our brains out and not get on our nerves and we're good to go.

Yes, I'm sure many men would like this, but being that women aren't Fembots, all women must get on his nerves. I was ready to end this correspondence:

Well, good luck with that.

And he sent me off with a polite:

thanks, good luck to you too.

Yes, Eddie, good luck to us both.

My life is so Season 6...

Three reason why:
1. I sleep with the wrong boys because it feels so right.
2. I break into song as if under a spell.
3. Surrounded by geeks.

To the beat of the rhythm of the night...

I'm all over retro, but the rhythm method making a comeback? This article's claim that the "Rhythm Method is as good as the Pill," is very interesting, but I'm not planning on jumping on that bandwagon anytime soon. First, it involves counting and charting, which is as sexy as stopping to put on the condom or bloat of the Pill. Then there is the fear that my body will not follow the fertile/infertile 30 to 36 day timeline that I've been taught since my breasts were nonexistent. Being off a day or so could have dire consequence. Plus, I can't even be bothered keep plants alive or remember to eat lunch everyday, so charting my body's temperature and menstrual flow just seems too much a bother.

I stopped having sex for a year and a half and my life was a smidge less complicated; but even with all the mess it can bring I missed it so much. While I enjoy having a sex life again, all the worries from the mundane hair removal techniques and being seen naked to the serious questions of birth control and levels of emotional attachment just make it seem like a pain in the ass. I do think I'm up for the challenge. Sex may make my life more complicated, but a little complication never hurt anyone.

Hard-Up

A few weeks ago I went on a drinking-fueled winking-fest on match.com where I sent winks to a large group of males in my area. A wink on match.com is where you show some interest, like winking at a stranger from across the room. It’s very non-committal and doesn’t require stringing a sentence together for a total stranger. So, this guy emailed me and he seemed intelligent and nice, but really geeky even for me. But I'm up for meeting new people so I wrote back and after a few email exchanges I gave him my phone number. I give a guy three days to call me and if he doesn't, I write him off. When you've been dating as long as I have you must have a system to avoid too emotional attachment and inevitable disappointment.

So this guy, Brian, didn't call and I went on with my life. Then I get this email:

A good friend of mine once told me something to the effect of, if you are tired, sick, or want time to yourself, never ever call a girl or go on a first date. It is guaranteed to make a bad first impression. So I don't want you to think that I don't read my email, but rather I was pleased that you gave me your number. I'd just like to have a night were I'm not tired from work, doing family stuff or just wanting to waste/veg my mind on internet blogging, to make that first call. I hope this doesn't seem too silly to you...

Oh gawd. Give me a fucking break. I didn't even write back because this guy very clearly is a douche who couldn't handle a woman like me. The men in my life must have some balls, at least enough to call me. Crazy, I know.

Then I get another email a few days later:

Right now is apparently not a good time for me to be dating. Lately it seems like I'm always tired or cranky after work, and although I'm working on straightening my priorities out and "finding the good in people." This has not been an overnight change within me, which I must accept. I have come full circle to the old, "You must be happy single, before you can be happy in a relationship."

Thankyou for winking at me. Thankyou for giving me your number. I feel complimented. But I need time to myself, so after thinking about it all week, I've decided not to call.

He'd been thinking about it all week! I can just see him picking up the phone, then his crippling self-doubt making him slam the phone down and finally curling up in the fetal position and crying. Wow. What crazy chick turned this poor guy into this mess? Of course I had to write the guy back:

Look, it's not a big deal. I don't know you or anything but you seem to take this stuff too seriously. Relax.

And just from these recent exchanges you don't really seem like my type anyways and I had really moved on. I was just hoping to find people in this area to hang out with, but if your life is too crazy, fine.

Anyways, I hope you figure everything out. Good luck to you.

And good riddance to lame boys.

This is not a fairy tale

Once there was a young woman who was steaming forward through life with no real goals or ambition besides getting back to the safety of her apartment. She wasn't satisfied with her course but didn't really think enough of herself to actually change her life. She would walk around aimlessly for hours down the same street hoping that something would change. But it never did.

Until one day she crossed the street and stepped in a pothole and twisted her ankle. It bothered her but not enough to change her course. The next week she started feeling better and stepped in the same pothole, but this time she broke her leg. The pain was so great all she could do was sit on the street and cry. Then she realized that she had to get home. Suddenly the world seemed like a dangerous place and everyone was out to get her. She didn’t go to the doctor and have her leg set, because she knew that would mean more pain. She just wanted to get to her apartment and put her leg up. ‘I’ll go to the doctor later,’ she thought.

She got home, but things got worse. She couldn’t function around her apartment and spent most of her time on the couch. Soon she started feeling very sorry for herself. Her parents took pity on her by inviting her to come live with them. The young woman saw this as a chance to get off her leg so she could heal. So she sat in a wheelchair and expected everyone to take care of her. Sitting around feeling sorry for herself was way too time consuming for her to think of getting out of that chair. ‘Once I get safe at my parent’s house, I’ll get my leg set,’ she thought

Instead she sat for many months feeling sorry for herself and thinking of all the ways she had screwed up her life. After a few months a funny thing happened; the young woman started to want better for her life. She wanted to go out and actually explore this world she’s been hiding from her entire life. But rather than allowing her leg to heal properly so she could get out of the chair and explore new streets, she got very scared. She would look at her wounded leg and remember how dangerous the world was. As her fear grew her dependence on others became more intense and she became very needy. She wanted her friends and family to fix her, to make her less scared of what she knew she had to do. Her poor family and friends were worried for her, because they knew they couldn’t fix her. (Though they wanted to, because they loved her.) It was up to her to get her leg set and get up out of the chair. ‘I know I should fix this leg so I can live my life, but I’m so scared of more pain! Pain sucks.’ she thought.

Finally, she had enough. She had her leg set and it was painful. She was mean, cranky and determined to make everyone else feel her pain. What made it worse was that she had no one to blame but herself for putting this off for so long. She knew the only way she could heal and function again was to just get up and walk. So she took a few small steps a day. Slowly her leg healed and she was able to walk on her own and depend less on her family and friends to take care of her. The young woman was ready to explore the roads in front of her. Sometime she would feel a twinge of pain in her leg, but she knew the pain was a part of life. ‘I can never be free from danger and pain, but walking again on my own feel so much better than sitting in that damn chair and being taken care of.’ she thought.

The moral of this story is that sometimes life is hard, but that’s life. It’s going to have joy and suffering and you have to deal with it. What other option do you really have? It seems simple, but I ask myself that if it were that simple, then why do I have to relearn it all the time? Because I’m a stubborn, pain in the ass, that’s why. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.

So, fuck you. :)

"Dad is great! Gives us the chocolate cake!"

Oh my goodness. What are they going to do next? Box of Orgasms?




*And a hand delivered Box of Orgasms to whoever can tell me where I got the title of this post from...
Hint: He was the sitcom dad of the 80's.

You probably think this Blog is about you...

I think these lines from the movie Shopgirl pretty much sum up my entire love life as of yet:


"As Ray Porter watches Mirabelle walk away he feels a loss. How is it possible, he thinks, to miss a woman whom he kept at a distance so that when she was gone he would not miss her. Only then does he realize that wanting part of her and not all of her had hurt them both and how he cannot justify his actions except that... well... it was life."

Because I feel like shit and want to make everyone cry.

I loved the Wonder Years. This scene prompted many debates with my friend Brian about the question of did Kevin and Winnie make the beast with two backs in the barn. I say they did, he disagrees. If he’d rather live in a fantasy world, more power to him.

But really, you want to cry, come on I know you do. Just let it out. Go on, it's okay. I won't tell.

Even Rocky had a montage...

After months of waiting I found out my enrollment appointment date for school! Yay! This means I can work out my schedule and figure out what classes I want. I always loved this period right before classes start, where I can be optimistic and hopeful. I picture myself in a montage of studying, walking to class, engaging in intellectual debates with classmates, sitting at a computer writing a paper and getting that paper back with an A+. I imagine all I'll learn and how my mind will expand.

I never imagine how I'll procrastinate and end up staying up all night writing a ten page paper and drink so much coffee that I'll eventually start hallucinating that I’m being buried alive. Or how boring my teachers will be and how most of the information won't be that important or useful. Or how most of my classmates will be in their early twenties and would rather talk about Paris Hilton than Psychology.

That's the problem with getting older; it's much harder to delude yourself. Not impossible, but harder.

Oh, it's just too easy...

Flash Dance (1983) dance intro

Honestly, this movie introduced me to my future as a sex goddess.

I’m back and badder than ever!!

I’ve been a lazy blogger lately. Hey, I’ve been busy and well things aren’t that interesting. Plus, most of the people who read my blog I see on a semi-regular basis, so they know what’s going on in my life. That means I have to find other topics than my personal life to blog about. And, the truth is, I don’t really want to blog about my inner workings as much anymore. I need to maintain a little mystery…

Anyhoo, I read this blog about the true nature of the fetus that made me chuckle.

This pissed me off. I mean couldn’t they have waited? Unless they didn’t believe her. Also she wasn’t allowed to take her emergency contraception.

Watched this movie this weekend and yelled at the TV. A lot. It also made me feel like sinning, which I did. A lot.

Well that’s about it for now. I’m sleepy.

For Those With Lots of Time....

I offer up the original unaired pilot of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Enjoy.

Dancing Queen

ABBA...You know you love 'em.

Take A Chance On Me

I couldn't pick just one...

Waterloo

Yep...

Taught me everything I know...

I'm way too tired to be clever, funny or even depressed. Yes, I am too tired to be depressed. Damn. Anyways, here's some ABBA and all their perkiness.