Just one day of asshole amnesty

I don’t do the “America, fuck yeah!” post, and I don’t do “Where I was on 9/11,” because no one cares where I was. It’s even more narcissistic than “thoughts and prayers” — “I mean, yeah, thousands died, but here’s what *I* was doing!” 

I realize even doing THIS is self-centered.
But I take today as an opportunity to let the people I love know I appreciate them, so… Hey, guys. I appreciate you. Thanks for following my silliness. 💕

Here’s hoping you don’t encounter any dumbass online anger or terrible people today. Hug someone cool.

And hey, if you’re a dick and I don’t realize because I don’t know you, maybe take the day off and don’t be a dick? Try it, see how it goes. You can always go back to dick tomorrow. (Wait, no…not what I meant…)

“Well, your Ken? Can kiss my Barbie.”

Email to a friend:

“I’m about to talk to a guy named Ken on OkCupid. I know one super-rad Ken (your husband), and one super-douche Ken. So I’m going into this with mixed expectations.

“I guess there was also Ken from Barbie and Ken, but he always struck me as kind of a tool who was trying to hold Barbie back. Plus he had no penis, which sort of defeats…I’d say 33% of the purpose of me dating in the first place.

“Actually, he also had no tongue, and probably gave really shitty hugs with those unbending arms. And couldn’t have made any sexy-man-noises when I did something pleasant to the blank canvas where his dick should be. And overall he seemed fairly disagreeable to be pressed against…

“Wait, what was my point?

“OH. Right. KEN.I hope this Ken is not a Ken of the genus Superdouchus. I don’t need him to be a husband, just not a super-douche.

“P.S. I feel like Ken Burns maybe makes up for Barbie’s Ken. So perhaps balance in the Ken Universe is restored.”

Waffling on Waffles Guy

So, Friday night I had a first date — waffles! — with an OkCupid guy. After waffles, we walked around New Hope, and he seems nice and likes standup comedy. I didn’t feel a huge spark, but he’s cute, and…like…he’s fine. He’s a dude. *shrug*

He walked me to my car and we agreed to a second date later this week. Then for the goodbye, I thought he was just aiming for a hug, so I leaned my face toward his shoulder, but then he kissed my cheek while I did that, so I thought, “Crap, did I just dodge a kiss on my mouth? I didn’t mean to do that. I like kissing.”

So because I’m a dipshit, I texted him at a light on my way home and said, “Don’t know if I inadvertently dodged the kiss or if you’re just a gentleman, but next time…”

And his response was, “First and foremost a gentleman.”

You guys? You know how I know he’s too nice for me? Because after he said that, my brain thought, “Aw, that’s sweet,” and then my ladyparts were all, “We would fuck him senseless right this minute.”

Even just from a hug, I keep smelling him faintly on me. GOD, I love that.

I don’t think I’ve ever NOT kissed a guy on a first date. So before Friday, I’d officially gotten my ass spanked in a Ford Focus on a first date more times than I’ve not kissed someone. (That is to say, once. And also, shut up.)

But again, I texted my friends after the date and said, “I’ll go out with him one more time, but from his texts and this first encounter… I don’t know, I don’t think he’s One of Us.”

I know I don’t want a relationship just yet, but it’s not terribly promising if I don’t think we even click well enough to be friends. But we’ll try one more time. At a minimum, I must kiss.

Arach-NO-phobia

I just overheard a young female coworker call out loud to a male coworker and have him come to her desk and kill a spider.

1. Really?

2. I understand it’s nice to feel needed, but…spiders? I’ll kill my own spiders, thanks. Can I have a hug, though? That’s what I need men for. (That and dick, but I was trying to keep it classy for once… I just ruined it, didn’t I?)

3. The girl is maybe 25, and she’s adorable. Does that make it cuter? I’m 38 and average-looking, so I have a feeling, if I did that, Dude-Bro would tell me to kill my own fucking spider.

3. Really?

Touch-a touch-a touch-a touch me…

Last night I finally got the kind of hug I needed. It didn’t last as long as I wanted it to, but it was still lovely.

(I swear this is not a metaphor for sex. If I ever get laid again, y’all will hear about it. No, literally — it’s been so long that you’ll probably be able to hear me when it happens.)