I don’t know what you talk to YOUR friends about…

Discussing life with a very pregnant ladyfriend:

Her: “We still have 10 days to go. The baby seems content to stay there forever, so who knows. Someday, I won’t be pregnant. So they tell me. It’s weird. Everywhere I go I’m like, ‘I could go into labor RIGHT NOW and that would be acceptable. Like, the baby would be fine.’ Pregnancy is a total mindfuck (brought about by an actual fuck, I suppose, haha).”

Me: “That really IS a mindfuck, now that I think about it. ‘Cause eventually the kid just decides, ‘Aaand my work in this womb is done. Comin’ at ya, Ma! Wheeeeee!’ And then she swims down like Nemo, and that ‘Y’all Ready for This?‘ song plays like it’s a sports game.”

Her: “OMG, I wish ‘Y’all Ready for This’ would play whenever anyone went into labor. Vaginas should come equipped with that pre-recorded. Also could be useful during sex?”

Me: “I’m not sure how it would work, science-ly, but I would Kickstart the shit out of technology that would enable my vagina to welcome its visiting team with a jaunty tune. Vaginal Jock Jams. Yes. Shut up and take my money.”

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My kid would be such an asshole…

Emailing a pregnant friend:

“You have that Babies ‘R’ Us Frequent Breeder card or whatever it is, right? That card that gives you fetus points?”

(Again, why I’m not allowed to have kids.)

Mo’ mommy, mo’ problems.

Bwah ha ha… “Throw some soft cheeses into the mix, unless you’re insecure about your weight because she sure mentioned that, too. You know what, you are going to need that cheese. And all the wine.”

My personal recent Mom favorites:

  • “That’s a great length for a shirt. It covers your butt.”
  • “This totally-the-opposite-of-your-hair color/style would look great on you!”
  • “If you were going to have kids with anyone, I’d want you to have them with [Ex], because he’s smart.” (<– That one was 3 weeks ago. We broke up 3 years ago.)

Cheers, y’all!

Via Reductress: 6 Wines that Pair Well With Having Just Gotten Off the Phone with Your Mother
wine

Word to ya Moms

I debated being a jackass and posting that I’ll be spending Mother’s Day making it rain disposable, childless income on fancy brunch cocktails and new Lush products. And, don’t get me wrong, that IS what I’m doing today.

But also: Serious, non-snarky props to all my mom friends. I hate most children because I hate most people, but your kids are the best because YOU’RE the best. So thanks for raising a new generation of non-assholes. ‘Cause we all know if *I* were the one endeavoring to “teach them well and let them lead the way,” my kid would be a complete dick — he’d be late for school every day and have unexplained Cheetos in his unwashed hair.

So, as for us fruitless non-multipliers… Y’all wanna go get hammered at noon and then go buy some motherfuckin’ high-end soaps?

WE RIDE!

When your relatives ask when you’re gonna let a guy come in you…

“Your in-laws will be like, ‘Say, when are you gonna give us some grandkids?’ And they might as well say, ‘Say, when are you gonna start finishing inside our daughter?'”

I said something similar to my father once. That was the last time he asked.

This is a Nerdist podcast of Chris Hardwick’s latest standup special. I’m sure you can see/hear it online/on TV; I just happen to have found the podcast first.

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.

Paging Stuart Smalley

This post started one way, but took a wrong exit to a place in my head I visit sometimes. It usually passes within a day, and then I’m back to at least a marginally normal self-image.

I went on vacation in part to get some perspective, maybe achieve sudden clarity via Southwest Airlines party mix.

I did, but not as much as I’d like.

But I did realize I can’t meet this guy I’d been talking to on OkCupid. We’d talked about meeting once I got back, but I realized I’m not feeling a connection, at least not yet. I have pretty good instincts for that, though, so possibly not ever. (This has also happened with two other OKC people.)

I feel bad, but even though That Guy felt nothing for me except my clitoris, that whole debacle helped me remember how I feel when *I* feel a spark with someone, even if it’s not mutual. My ex, too — I felt that in my gut and in my butt, and I’m not feeling it for these OKC people. Whatever the issues, my interactions with That Guy and my ex set a standard for what I need to feel and how I need to be treated.

I know I have to move on eventually. I just don’t think I’ll be able to, or should, until I feel something more compelling — I don’t need to be in love, I just need to feel a chemistry.

I wondered if I should meet that OKC guy just to interact with a man in a potentially romantic capacity, the way I used to go on job interviews for practice. But I don’t want to make anyone my practice. Having BEEN used fairly recently, I can’t do it to someone else. (Though I hear it’s effective.)

I may still be too damaged for this. I can’t tell if I’m really not ready, or just scared.

I already wasn’t feeling the best about myself when my ex and I broke up. I asked him why he was even with me, what I’d contributed to our relationship, and why he’d want to have children with me. He explained the kid thing, but wouldn’t tell me why he’d been with me. He said I should know. I still don’t. I believed he loved me. I believe he still does. I just don’t know why. (The best I can come up with is that I let him have his own space and his own time, and never made him watch “The Notebook.”)

Following that, That Guy made me feel smart, sexy, and funny…buuut then told me he never really thought any of that. Well, I guess the “sexy” part was true — as indicators go, his constant erection in my presence was probably a good one. 

When I thought he cared about me, I spent time with him thinking, “Pfft…I’m amazing.” He said my confidence showed, that I owned my business in the bedroom, that I was funny and a good writer — he was one of the reasons I kept writing this blog. And then he was like, “Ha ha, just kidding, you’re none of those things.”

So I’m not enough to keep one man if I don’t want to have a baby, and not enough to keep the other guy because…I guess maybe I’m NOT the person he made me feel like I was.

Plus there have also been professional aspects where I wasn’t good enough to do one job or another, and a general feeling with my family that I’m just not worth being heard.

So… I don’t know what I’m doing now. I know it’s called SELF-esteem, but mine’s been knocked around a lot the past few years. I don’t know if I’ve ever considered how deep-seated all this is, and I see the therapist partly because I don’t know how to fix it myself. I have friends who, if they’re reading it, would punch me in the neck for thinking any of this. I don’t ALWAYS feel this way, but when I do, people can tell me whatever good things they want, I just can’t see it for myself.

Ahem… Why, what do YOU think about on vacation?

P.S. Next post, I promise, back to OkCupid snark, Valentine’s rage, masturbation, and the feminism of bath sponges.