Broken Brain Blues

Post-therapy text to friends:

“BTW, I just got out of therapy and you wanna hear some horseshit? Not only does she want me to be happy and well adjusted, turns out she can’t just ask me a couple questions and fix 40 years of shit in 45 minutes. It’s, like…long-term work? That *I* have to figure out with her help? This is just like all this alleged ‘exercise’ people want me to be doing. UGH.”

P.S. It’s a joke, I knew what I was getting into. But it IS also bullshit that I drew the short straw in the brain department.

“That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.”

I just noticed that Guy I Dated for a Minute has RSVP’ed “yes” to a mutual friend’s holiday party I also said “yes” to.

Whatever, fuckface — I ain’t scared.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to spend the next 3 weeks getting pretty and practicing ignoring douchebags. Because that’s what Jesus would do.

(I’ve realized recently that whole thing messed me up more than it should have. But screw it, that’s what therapy’s for. Let’s dance, Psyche.)

A fine day for texting at Smug HQ

The Cute Dog Guy from OkCupid DID in fact send me a series of adorable dog (not dong) pics, AND a video of a dog frolicking on the banks of a lake.

So of course I reported back to my Friends Focus Group…

Prematurely ejaculating my anxiety.

I met a guy last weekend, and IN MY HEAD, we’ve already been dating (and sleeping together — frequently) for a week.

So…I guess I should probably, like…SAY something to him ever.

He’s a friend of a friend. I’ve ascertained that he’s single and straight. And when I asked, my friend said she’d been hoping I would because she “thought it’d be a good match.” 

Now I just need to figure out what the hell is going on in MY head to make sure I don’t end up being totally weird to a friend of a friend…again. Last time this happened, I slept with the dude way too soon, then realized we had nothing in common and ended up pulling The Fadeaway on him.

I’ve spent so much time “not being ready” that I don’t know if I AM ready, or if it’s just my vagina that’s ready, all, “SINGLE DICK AHOY!”

*deep breath*

SO. My next therapy appointment isn’t until NEXT week, eh? Mm’kay. That…that’s fine…

You’re not even a good fragrance of douche.

A few months ago I posted about a man from a neighboring office in my building. I pass him in the hall sometimes and we exchange workplace pleasantries. That day, though, he asked if I’d been dieting, because I looked “really good” and “like I’d lost weight.”

I’ve seen him a few times since, and we were back to, “Good morning, how are you?”

But I just saw him again and he said, “That’s a REALLY nice dress, it looks great on you!” And elevator-eyed me.

Dude, did you skip an HR seminar or something? The last time anyone looked at me like that at work, he and I were screwing around in office closets.

I feel like a hypocrite, too, because I wouldn’t have minded the compliment on my dress coming from a man I was attracted to, or even a man I knew. The phrasing of his weight loss/diet comment was unacceptable from anyone, though — was I previously too much of a heifer to look good?

*sigh* I need another shower.

Congrats, OkCupid Guy: You made a woman cry. RESULT!

FIRST message from a man on OkCupid: “If you change your mind about the kid thing let me know. You do seem like a riot! :D”

*deep breath* A few things…

1. Thanks a bunch for that cheery kick in the uterus. Much appreciated.

2. So your sole criterion for a baby mama is that she’s…funny? That’s outstanding, I can’t wait to see how your kid turns out.

3. Kids are the only thing you’d need me to change my mind about? So no worries that your profile says you “want to settle down with someone who’s in it for the long haul!” but my profile says, “I’m not looking for a relationship, just casual dating.” I want to know how you arrived at the decision to message me implying I should consider becoming broodmare to a total stranger — show your work. Or do you mean we’d default to “long haul” once I accepted my role as your cum dumpster?

4. ‘Cause surely YOU’RE gonna be the guy to change my deep-seated commitment and trust issues quickly enough to plant your seed before my last, shriveled egg fades to black? Sure, let me change my not-at-all carefully considered decision about growing a PERSON in my body, raising him/her for 18+ years, shaping them into a decent human being, getting them to school by Ass Early a.m., going into MORE debt for their basic needs and education and…Artisanal Self-Actualization camp or whatever the fuck, all so I can…what, exactly? Spend my life forever tethered to a 46-year-old fuckstick in Morgantown, PA, who’s grasping at wombs as he stares down the barrel of his spawn-less mortality? Drive 90 minutes and pay Turnpike tolls so you can jam your half-flaccid cock into me and hope one of your sleepy, disoriented sperm has enough energy to sashay its way into my Danger Zone? PASS.

*exhale*

We’ll just ignore the fact that reading the message, and writing this post, legitimately upset me, and now I have to go hide in the ladies’ room until I can Irish down this ridiculous rush of emotion brought on by some aging dickhead in the boonies.

P.S. There’s nothing wrong with 46, and I know that, science-ly, y’all could knock me up just fine. I just went with impotence because I’m an ass and it’s an easy target.

10 Things I (Won’t) Date About You

I’m going with a basic list for last night’s date recap (Waffles Guy, date 2), because no storytelling would be better than just throwing it all out there:

1. He really likes Triumph the Insult Comic. He was surprised I didn’t, because it’s “such similar humor to George Carlin’s.” 

THAT is when I should’ve left. BUT…

2. He ordered Bud Light Lime. On purpose. And paid for it. With money.  

3. He mocked Rhonda Rousey for saying she was depressed after a loss, because “she just didn’t get her way,” and “male fighters would never say something like that — they’d say, ‘OK, I’ll get back to the gym, work harder.'” 

So… You can’t be depressed but ALSO plan to improve? But “that’s not what a champion says.”

He actually seemed pretty dismissive about mental health issues in general, which is odd because he works in a facility that treats addicts and people with psych issues. But fuck you, dude — I’m only moderately crazy (“dysthymic,” I believe is the word), and therapy and meds have helped me a lot. And I know at least two people who’d probably be dead if they hadn’t sought help.

4. There’s “gentleman,” which I enjoy, and then there’s repeatedly insisting I put your coat over my shoulders even when I’ve said I’m not cold. Dude, it’s 65 degrees out, and I am a grown-ass woman who can determine when she needs a coat.

5. Related: While walking, he told me he was switching sides with me on the sidewalk so I wasn’t walking closest to the street. 

I forgot that was a THING. 

I don’t usually get feminist-tweaked until you start treating me like a child, and then suddenly you’re staring down the barrel of 40 years of family issues. I know when I need a coat, and it’s our second date, so… you’re gonna, what, get hit by an out-of-control car so I don’t? Way to volunteer as Tribute.

6. Discussing movies:
Him: “I never saw Lord of the Rings. Is that the one with the kid with the glasses?”
Me: *blink*”…No. That’s Harry Potter.”
Him:”Oh, right! I’ve never seen those movies, either.”

I don’t care if he didn’t see them. But how the actual balls do you confuse the two?

7. He said Breaking Bad was “just OK,” and that Better Call Saul is better. I hope someone gives you Stevia. (Kidding.)

8. Audible eater. (Of FOOD, shut up.)

9. While not as disgusting or graphic as I would’ve thought, hearing how diverticulitis presents in an adult male is still pretty boring.

10. When I asked if he was a Trump voter: “There are two things I don’t talk about in public: religion and politics. One I know far too much about, one I know nothing about. I won’t tell you which is which, but I will say I went to Catholic school for 12 years.”

Wow. I am in awe of the enigma of you.

I realize some of this is just me being an asshole. But… I mean, the valid points are REALLY valid. (It also hit a lot of my big-issue nerves, but that’s ME, not him, so I’ll get into that later.)

P.S. I let him kiss me because I was still curious after he didn’t on the first date, and I’ll give him credit: Solid kiss, one hand around my waist, one hand in my hair. Good work, sir. A little too much moaning for me personally, but overall, good for you.

White trash reco’nize white trash.

I saw a white-trash hoodrat outside a convenience store, and he was wearing a Nike shirt that said, “Damn, I’m good.”

First thought: “I bet you’re not.”

Second thought: “At what, evading child support?” 

I’m going to hell. 

I think I just fixed the economy.

I cursed at a cab while driving home tonight, and my choice was, “You’re a dick, taxi.”

Upon further reflection, how great would a dick taxi be?

I know, I have issues.