Reason #139: The Fake Emergency Call
I know this isn’t exactly gender exclusive but I’m pretty sure women started it, and have perfected it throughout history.
Example 1: Eve
Whilst bickering with Adam over her eating of the apple and damning all man kind, God “just happens” to show up and banish her from Eden. C’mon he just decided that was a good time to commence the banishment. They were in cahoots, God was just trying to get her out of that jam.
Example 2: Harriet Tubman
Do you really expect me to believe this was just about slavery. She was using songs, telegraphs, and the like to get the heck out of there. Escaping the south? More like escaping all the lame southern dudes.
Example 3: Jackie O
Oh yeah, I’m saying it. Jackie O was behind the whole thing. Jack Ruby? Lee Harvey Oswald? C’mon conspiracy theorists…aim a little higher. Jackie O was the mastermind behind that one. And why shouldn’t she be? Her husband was a hot shot playboy AND president to boot. He could have Marilyn or any other lady he wanted…does this a good husband make? And we’ve all learned how tough and frowned upon divorce was back in those days (thank you Mad Men). Sure, she’s a national treasure, but part of that is her bravery and spirit in the face of her husband’s death. That was the ultimate excuse for her to get any situation, all she had to do is act choked up, she didn’t even have to say, “Oh I’m sorry, my husband was shot…” Because everybody already knew where they were when this happened and she had all of our sympathies.
Reason #138: The Dumb Things They Say
You can’t help but fall victim to slang in your life. Phrases that come shooting into the vernacular and within five minutes are already passe, we’re constantly looking for the new, fresh way to sound hip & cool. Personally, I’m very jive so these phrases tend to bug the bejesus out of me. Back in the 90s we were treated to many million mini Alicia Silverstones. Years later, girls still refer to Clueless as a “classic”, but you don’t hear “As if” at all anymore.
The latest offender is something that grates at my soul and is worse than nails on a chalkboard to me.
Obvi
Now there are plenty of other offenders but, obvi just annoys me to no end. Apparently in this text,blog, twit-a-minute world we live in we don’t have the time for “ously”. Probs and the like also bug me, but there is something so immature, so childish….and not like high-school childish, not even jr high school childish, I’m talking middle-school childish… about this. It reeks of the obnoxiousness of tween girls and Miley Cyrus. To me obvi is so obno annoy.
Reason #137: Revisionist History
Hindsight is never remotely 20-20, I don’t care what people tell you. Our biases and time are the strongest things working against our memories. I can’t tell you how many times a friend of mine is convinced something happened that never did.
Mis-remembering your ex can go a number of ways. Firstly, much like an a battered wife, you can convince yourself that you two weren’t that bad together. The next heartbreak always makes the ones you’re over pale in comparison. You tend to build your ex back in your mind, you start to wonder, I don’t get why it didn’t work with us. Sure, you had some rough patches but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the psycho you just got rid of. Right? Wrong.
The other way this could go is that due to guilt, remorse, stubborn pride, or any other reason, you are convinced your ex is the devil, or at least on the devil’s payroll. You could have wronged them, and been the horrible party in the relationship, but it doesn’t matter, you shun them. You don’t talk to them. It isn’t fair, or remotely logical, but you convince yourself that that psychopath was everything that was ever wrong in your life during that relationship.
Reason #136: They Praise Sex & The City
I have been forced to watch entirely too many episodes of Sex & The City over the years. Yeah, a relationship is give and take lots of time. You give them twenty two minutes of biting your tongue, they might give you 22 minutes of biting things of yours, or using their tongue.
We’ve all been there guys, and I’m fine shutting up for half an hour watching Kim Cattrall act like a complete whore under the guise of “sexual empowerment”, but when you ladies claim that is such an amazing show. What gets me even more is when they start to tell me that the writing is amazing.
I have watched countless hours of television. Old sitcoms, cartoons, dramas, cable series, procedurals, teen soaps, shitty sitcoms, everything. I am an aspiring television writer, and I can not remotely understand the praise this show gets.
Yes, it was one of the first shows on HBO to really jive with a mass audience. Yes, it’s the reason the cosmo is a popular drink now. Yes, it was a pop culture phenom, but it is something that is almost already dated.
TBS and other syndication have given Sex & The City a second life. I find it funny that a whole new generation is discovering this show…an older generation. The censored down episodes have become a hit with housewives and older ladies. This is a show that was aimed at a generally 20-something audience of women. This was the 90s, and under the guise of feminism, these women were gonna go out and talk about all the crappy men they encounter.
But who in this show is a good character. You’ve got a bitchy workaholic, a whiney WASP, a wishy-washy horse-faced SJP, and Kim Cattrall. Anything Kim Cattrall says on the show is an entirely too forward comment about sex. It lacks subtlty, it lacks nuiance.
Yeah girls, we get it that you’ve all had shitty dates and bad relationships. And you want to put on pretty shoes and dance at the clubs and hang out with your gals…but this show is not the be all/end all, amazing show that speaks to your soul for the rest of your life…it’s a guilty pleasure. It’s escapist fun, not the most gratifying show you’ll ever encounter.
Reason #135: Girls Named Megan
I really don’t have much elabortion for this one, but I’m pretty sure girls named Megan (not Meghan, Meagan, Megann, Meahgan, Mehgean, Meaghan…. or any variation there of) are evil and secretly demons sent to this Earth to rip out souls.
Reason #134: Burn Out
One of the oldest metaphor’s for relationships, love & lust, is the idea that there is flame. Passion is represented with this idea that there is this burning flame for someone, or something. So the new relationship is pretty much a burning match. That first encounter that sparks the feelings in you, and before you know it the oxygen is sucked away by the flame. You can’t think rationally, you can’t breathe..you are consumed in the fire. For a while there everything in your life is secondary. There is no escaping it, you are trapped. The two of you will constantly want to see you on more-than-normal bases. It’s great and wonderful and magical.
But then you burn out.
You kind of get sick of the person and you want your space. This is why it is best to kind of give yourself a little breathing room in the beginning of the relationship. You want the flame to last for as long as possible. You don’t want to end the honeymoon phase and be over the person in two weeks. I’ve been there. These girls are the ones I forget exist a year or two later. Their names evoke an “oh yeah, I remember her”. Giving each other space and room to breathe at the beginning of the relationship is best. However, if you are destined to burn out and finish, you are only prolonging it. It’s a mixed bag really. You never know how long these things will last, but when they finally do burn out, you get to find your next ignition
Reason #133: Dead Butterflies
I think one of the awesomest feelings in the world is that sensation you used to get when you were in grade school. When the girl you liked grabbed your hand out of nowhere for the first time and you lost all ability to think. You get the funny feeling, the butterflies in the stomach. It’s new. It’s exciting. It’s the pinnacle of happiness and the onset of neurosis. I don’t have fond memories of my first kiss, my first date, or my first time, but I have a fondness for the butterflies. Clouded heads and a nauseous, a good nauseous feeling.
I think as you get older the butterflies are more elusive. It’s harder to get that feeling back. That stuff isn’t new to you anymore. Even more so, you’ve been on good dates before. It’s just a matter of wading through the trenches. Sure you can like a girl, and enjoy everything you do together, but those knock-out kisses and moments where you just can not think, are not always going to happen. Maybe it’s a lack of being able to get out of my head, but when I find a girl that can actually take me out of it, I find it that much more spectacular.
Reason #132: Lipstick Parties
For those not in the know, lipstick parties are allegedly when a bunch of grade schoolers have a party and each girl wears a different color lipstick. And each pre-pubescent boy at the party tries to see how many different shades of the rainbow can be adorned on his 8th grade boner. It sounds like good clean, American fun right?
I know what you are thinking. How on God’s green earth can I sit here and turn the idea of a lipstick party and complain about it. I’ll tell you exactly how: it’s an urban legend. Lipstick parties are less likely to happen then breaking down in the middle of nowhere and encountering a guy with a hook hand. You are more likely to get spooky calls coming from inside the house. And it pisses me off that this bogus story has been spread.
Now, I can completely understand why the rumor has been spread: twelve year old girls these days are way sluttier than when I was twelve. I’m 25, and I’m spouting off a back in my day, but it’s true. Girl’s were not remotely as slutty back in my day. I’m pretty sure if the idea of a lipstick party was floated around it would do wonders for my juvinile sexual promiscuity. By putting the idea into a wide-spread rumor, parents took arm. But kids…kids are impressionable, and easily coherceable. They want to grow up quicker than they should , and they want to do whatever it takes. Peer pressure is a time tested way to get a kid to do something. So, if a kid was unusually crafty, and aware of the stories…he might formulate a grand plan to get one of these into action. Unfortunately, I don’t buy that any grade schooler is that manipulative or clever…and I sure as hell don’t buy that there have been many, if any at all, lipstick parties.
Reason #130: Behind The Counter Allure
I think there is something universally appealing about women in the service industry. Maybe we’re all secret misogynists, or been watching too much Mad Men, but a girl that brings you coffee, beer, or a hot meal. That’s the kind of girl we like. And girls in the service industry know one thing better than to just bring us things. They know how to do it with a smile. They toss their hair and flirt with us. Why? Tips. I pity the foolish customer that is naive enough to think that it’s because they want a bigger tip. That just might be why nabbing a bartender something of an accomplishment.
This happens to make these girls look more attractive then they are. The booze, and the fact that we can only partially see their entire body, doesn’t exactly hurt either. I have fun into many a bartender/waitress/barista out of context, and more importantly, on the other end of the counter…and it’s not always as pretty as a picture as you build in your head.
Reason #129: They Changed Me
I used to be the kind of guy who would hop on a plane impulsively for a girl. I used to be the kind of guy that would drive four hours in a blizzard to fix a fight. I used to be the kind of guy that would spending hours, brian power, and creativity working on a birthday gift. I used to be the kind of guy who would check his own shit aside, and be there for the her. Then something happened.
You see, I used to this pie-eyed hopeless romantic. I feel in love with every girl I met. I feel quick, hard. head-first and entirely in love. And then I had a few relationships that just, plain and simple, kicked my ass. It’s a sucky, shitty thing to be used or cheated on be the victim of mind games and crazy girls…but I forgive them for that. But I am not sure I can entirely forgive them for taking that part of me and destroying it.
For all the things I took from these girls…they still took that from me. I can forgive them for all the things…but my jaded bitterness is the thing I’m most bitter about them giving me (if that makes sense). They’ve made me the grinch…and it stinks. I guess I could consider myself full on unfunny-Jim Carrey grinch, but I couldn’t possibly be that hard on myself. If anything it’s really only two, two and a half, sizes too small…definitely not three.
Digressions aside, it bothers me that I used to be Roy Cohen or Tom Hanson,..but I’ve become something different. I’ve become guarded. I don’t let myself open up as easy as I used to. I don’t trust as quickly as I used to. As you go on every fight or good time gets compared to the times you’ve had before. Not only is a girl competing with the initial version of herself that I started to date, she’s competing about every girl thats coming before her. It’s stupid, and it makes no sense to do this, I know, but we all can’t help but stack all of our relationships, dates, kisses, sexual encounters, or anything against everything thats come before. You can’t appreciate a good date until you’ve gone a string of failures. And if somebody is good…but still isn’t as good as the one you’ve got in your head, or even the one you’re over…it probably isn’t the relationship for you. You want the one that blows the competition away. You want to be kissed and immediately know your screwed.
I can’t help but be this jaded, somewhat cynical, somewhat bitter fella sometimes. Experience is a bitch. Especially because you can’t go back. Honestly, I’m not even sure I totally want to be that guy anymore. There is a good reason the naiveté should be squashed. I’m not a doe-eyed innocent, I am not gonna be as crushed as easily. I suppose there is something to be said for apathy. You have to get your ass kicked enough to be stronger. I suppose theres a mix of the two. Between cynicism and optimism. I am struggling to find it. That is part of why I do this blog. Do I hate girls? Sometmies Can I be whiney and bitter? Yeah. But can I also take it in stride and just plow through til I find the girl who makes it all worth it? Yeah, I believe I can.
Reason #128: When They Get Lame
Today’s post is a serious problem that plagues far too many women. Girls are prone to wide array of annoying attitudes, but there is something to be said for the way they get when they are in new relationship. Suddenly they live and breathe for this person. They immediately jump to the top of the buddy list, are glued to their phones sending flirty texts, and suddenly every conversation, away message, or Facebook status is about that person. And for the rest of us, it’s obnoxious. It’s obnoxious to other couples, and it’s obnoxious to the single people who have to see it. Yeah, we get it you met this guy two weeks ago and you have a love that is more than love. Nobody can possibly compete with your new fella. He’s the shit, he’s better than bread and a thousand orgasms…until two weeks later when you’re crying in your pint of Phish food.
Listen ladies, nobody cares. If you are so tied up in your relationship that you lose all sense of self, then that is just a tragedy. Seriously, the girls who make their guy their life bug the crap out of me. We’ve all seen it, and we all know which women in our life are prone to it. So we wait it out, and remember that when they are single they are pretty awesome people, but the second you hear the phrase “So I met this guy” you know what you are in for. A long, dark winter where they will occasionally peek their heads out of the proverbial love nests/comas. So I urge you to encourage your friend to stop taking a million cutesy pictures to show all their e-friends and e-aquaintences how special and cute and adorable, but most importantly, to stop being lame.
Reason #127: The Space Paradox
I doubt there is a person in any sort of relationship that hasn’t required a certain need of space in and from a relationship. Whether it to be to calm down after a fight, reflection on life, or just a break to slow things down when things are going too fast and pressured, we all need our space. But there is an inherent problem in requesting space in a relationship: you aren’t going to get it.
Why? Because people are insecure, and when they hear that they automatically fear the worst. This may or may not be a completely founded, rational fear, but regardless it will almost always happen. So what happens when you tell somebody you want space? Immediately they will panic and start to push on you further. They want to fix everything then and there. They don’t want to give you the space, because they are afraid you might like it too much. So they push, which only makes you more aloof, so they push harder and harder til it reaches the breaking point. Trite is it sounds, because of this problem, wanting space tends to be the final frontier of a relationship because the inability for it to exist.
Reason #126: The New Relationship Detective
When you start something with a girl it isn’t all roses & puppies. You get to analyze, and overanalyze what every single interaction, conversation, text, IM, email, communication is. You don’t immediately know for sure that they are interested, you could have immediately been friend zoned, or they could just be feeling you out. It’s easy for girls, because if a guy shows you any interest…he’s interested in you, it’s not quite the same with girls. They pity us, they want to be our friends, they want male perspectives on guy’s they are screwing around with, etc, etc.
But when it comes to our contact with women, everything is a mystery. We wonder if they are just being flirty or if they genuinely want us. And let’s face it girls, a lot of you just love the attention you get from men. You flirt with us, you touch us playfully, maybe even a little seductively, and you have no intent what so ever about actually getting with us. Yes, the dreaded cock-tease is all about, and somewhat elusive. She comes in many a shape and form.
So it just flat out blows to have to try and piece together all the interactions. The conversations. The things she said, the things she didn’t say. The kissy emoticon she sent in an instant message, all of it. Of course, when you finally discover that they do like you, it’s one of the best feelings in the world. The monkey is off your shoulder, and gets replaced by the relationship monkey, which is much bigger
Reason #125: Subtext Conversations
Constantly talking isn't necessarily communicating
When a relationship is going down the metaphorical drain, one of the first things to go is communication. Sure, when you started seeing each other you would talk for hours on the phone, online, or in bed until the sun comes up. Sleep never seems to be an issue because those five minute conversations suddenly turn into conversations that last until 4am, but feel like a few minutes because you are clicking and sparking… and any other sort of verb that indicates a connection. It doesn’t happen all at once though. Suddenly your nightly phone chats are cut down to the 20-30 minute range where you tell each other about your days and mundane stuff that you aren’t too interested in, but you either listen out of social decency, or you pretend to listen.
And then you start to have those conversations. They are short. Terse. One word replies and an obligatory I love you. You say things to fill the silence. The body language and the subtext of the lack of conversation. Ironically they say more about your relationship then those 4 hour “getting to know each other” phone calls. You already know each other, and you can read your partner by the look on their face, they way they’ll look anywhere but at you, the the pissed off way they’ll bite their lip vs the cute lip bite.
I think the danger in getting to know somebody is that there aren’t even words that need to be said to communicate how the decline and deconstruction are imminent. You both know it, and let’s face it you won’t say it until the inevitable blow up or last straw moment.
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