Posts Tagged 'love is for suckers'

People are difficult.

A few days ago I began a conversation with my friend, Sad Desperation. As I sat down to blog about our initial conversation with the [obvious] conclusion that wanting to feel love/loved makes otherwise sane and balanced people completely bat shit crazy, I started to reflect on my own man/love driven insanity – a sad depressing thought in itself, and one that I will come back to.

Sad Desperation’s story is that she is in “love” with a guy*. Interestingly enough though, while she “loves” him, she is very hard pressed to describe anything positive about him, except that he is smart…and good in bed. Which frankly, isn’t all that special. Lots of people are smart. And enough people are good in bed that it should not be a major factor in liking someone [although, I do think it a valid reason to NOT like someone].

The latest saga of Sad Desperation is based on the age old question:: is he my boyfriend? [Note to the Ladies:: If you have to ask the question, he probably is not.]
I don’t want to delve too deeply into the ridiculosity of the story, but basically, instead of taking the reasonable approach of saying “hey, umm, guy I am sleeping with on a very regular basis, are you my boyfriend?” she decided that a better [and totally crazy] approach would be to hatch a cockamamie scheme whereby his feelings would theoretically be revealed. [Unsurprisingly, a totally stupid plan that did not work.]
In the end, the only thing that was revealed is that a) she is certifiable and b) he is an idiot [for reasons completely unrelated to Sad Desperation’s latest drama]. And yet still, despite the fact that the question continues to gnaw at Sad Desperation [so much so that we had two hours of phone conversation and 10,000ish words of email exchange on the topic] she won’t bring it up. Because why? Because she does not want to “seem desperate.” Any yet, she has no qualms about acting/BEING totally desperate.
Which brings me to my ultimate question. Why are people [I include myself in this] so fucking stupid when it comes to relationships?
Sad Desperation isn’t even that into the guy at issue. But for reasons neither she nor anyone else can understand, she needs him to like her. Her whole being, her value as a person, depends on this ONE guy she doesn’t even see herself with in the long run wanting her. Clearly, this is fucked up. And trust me, I know. I too have in the past become fixated on men who I thought [actually, I didn’t think it, I KNEW it] were useless.
T/S, who I dated a while back [for a refresher, see here, here and here], is a perfect example. He, by pretty much any measure [except maybe the good in bed one] was a dud [Seriously, I kid you not. Example:: He had a fucking dolphin tattoo**]. AND YET, I was totally sad sauce when he didn’t want to hang out with me. When I look back on it [which I was caused to do following my initial conversation with Sad Desperation], I thought about myself, “you moron, why Why WHY did you waste your energy on that?”
And that is what I wish I could say to Sad Desperation. Not because I am trying to be mean, but because that is what I think is the truth. But instead, I will say, “Don’t worry, I am sure he likes you. You are after all, awesome.” And while she *is* awesome, I am actually pretty sure that he does NOT like her.
Life is so needlessly convoluted.
* I don’t think she is in LOVE love…more like she loooooves him. As in, she loooooves having sex with him. But does she like him as an actual person? Not so much.
** T/S claimed the dolphin was a shark. In either case, it was stupid.
If you have to ask, You’ll never know

Men may be the enemy.

I have always subscribed to the theory that woman are as bad as the men they date when it comes to deceiving, cheating, misleading or otherwise destroying relationships/other people. Personally, I know that for every instance I have complained about a guy blowing me off or otherwise “wronging” me, I have probably done the same thing to different person. But lately, I am starting to question whether women really are as bad as their male counterparts.

Cases in point::

1. Evil Troll and Her Evil Boyfriend:: This guy has now succeeded in successfully sleeping with or propositioning 100% of the women with whom Evil Troll has been closely associated over the last year. Arguably, Evil Troll deserves it. However, as far as I know, Evil Troll has been faithful to Her Evil Boyfriend. I think this means that Her Evil Boyfriend is actually more evil than Evil Troll. The thought makes me shudder.

2. Person I use to work with::
At the sweatshop at which I was previously employed, there is a woman who is phenomenal. Always positive, non-shit talking, funny and supa-smart. She had been married to a guy for about eight years [I totally made that up, I have no idea how long they have been married] and has two children with him [this part is true]. Recently, she has discovered that the bastard had been cheating. And not just a little. I was floor – FLOORED – when I heard about this. And sadly, so was she.

3. Guy my New Roommate is dating::
This guy, as far as I know, has not been cheating. He has however, managed over the course of 1.5 months to morph from a clever fun to be around guy into a controlling ass-wipe Aloof-Cool Guy [for those of you that don’t know, “aloof-cool guy” is its own category of man – described below]. The fact they he has spiraled down so far in so short a time is alarming.

4. Guy my Old Friend S. dates:: I have mentioned this situation previously, but he is still totally running around behind her back. She is kind of an idiot for letting it happen, but still, can’t blame the victim ya’ll!

5. Guy my NY Bestie told me about::
NY Bestie has a friend who just broke up with her boyfriend of a lot of years after catching him text messaging and phone calling with strippers. They had just moved in together no less! I am a reasonable person who thinks that flirting is ok in a relationship, but there is no reason a boyfriend should be text messaging and talking on the phone with strippers. We are not talking about friends of his who happen to be strippers [which would be ok]. We are talking about strippers who he knows by virtue of his frequenting strip clubs [which is not ok].

And there are more current goings on of guys misbehaving amongst my friends that I don’t even want to get into. But the point is, WTF fellas? What do you have to say for yourselves?

I hope that I am wrong about guys. Especially since I can’t seem to stop liking em. I would like to think that any future relationships I have are not doomed as the cases above seem to suggest.

This might warrant another Highly Scientific Experiment.


The “aloof-cool guy” is the guy that is super laid back, okay with everything, never gets mad, and is almost overly balanced. He is the kind of guy that says things like “it is what it is”. This sounds good, right? It is, unless you are a normal girl [read:: slightly neurotic], in which case you will take Aloof-Cool Guy’s demeanor and interpret it as not being interested in you. This will turn you into Needy Girlfriend who is always trying to get Aloof-Cool Guy to tell you/show you how much he cares. Aloof-Cool Guy will never give you such satisfaction because it is not in his nature. This will lead to infinitely circular conversations like the following::

Needy Girlfriend:: Do you want me to come?

Aloof-Cool Guy:: I want you to come if you want to.

Needy Girlfriend:: I only want to come if you want me to come.

Aloof-Cool Guy:: Well, if you want to come, just come.

etc., etc., etc.

It is a dark ugly road ladies, watch out. I have seen it too many times. The main problem with Aloof-Cool Guys is that they typically can’t accept that their behavior impacts other people. And even if you tell them, they think of it as your problem and not their problem.

* To one particular guy who I suspect will read this, I am really sorry. I didn’t mean to be a jerk, I just kind of didn’t know what to say. I am still routing for you on the Elite front.

Lover, you should really love Jeff Buckley.

It’s never over, my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder
It’s never over, all my riches for her smiles when I slept so soft against her
It’s never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter
It’s never over, she’s the tear that hangs inside my soul forever

I really want to meet someone who loves that song as much as I do.

It blows my whole brain every time I listen to it. Which is frequently.

Self Imposed Exile/ Girls are dumb.

Part I – Self Imposed Exile::

For the past several months, I have been going a little overboard in my life. I am not saying it hasn’t been fun [it has], but I felt like I was getting a little out of control. In order to get back on track, I have been wanting a weekend all to myself, free of vice, technology, and outside influences. Originally my plan had been to go to Palm Springs and just hang out, all by my lonesome. But when my roommate announced she was leaving for a week, I decided that I would make my house my own personal sanctuary.

So basically, for the last two days I fell off the face of the earth, I worked on my tan, I wrote a bunch, I read even more, I felt wonderful and happy and sad and lonely and wonderful again. I relearned how to spend time with myself. I organized my closet. I even had my own little Project Runway experience when I tried [and failed] to sew a tunic for myself. I dealt [and continue to deal with ] a gas leak.

At the end of it all, I learned no great lessons. I didn’t find myself, discover the meaning of life, or write the first few pages of the next great American novel. I am still bummed as hell that it is Sunday, thereby making tomorrow a workday. But I feel grounded and strong. And over all, I am pretty gosh darn happy.

Part II – Girls are dumb [sometimes]::

So I have this friend I will call Dee. Dee and I were very good friends in High School, are slightly less friendly these days, but still quite close. We speak irregularly but have always managed to somehow keep a genuine connection between us. Or at least I think so, anyhow.

Dee, despite being brilliant in nearly every facet of her life, has atrocious taste in men. Worse than me even. If there is a useless man within 10 miles of Dee, she will sniff him out and make him the love of her life until the whole farce of a relationship blows up in her face. It is rather painful to watch, but I always just figured that one day she would realize the absurdity of her ways and find a man that didn’t totally suck.

I may be wrong. Dee’s latest conquest, Moldy, is her worst yet. So of course, true to form, Dee has declared him the love of her life. Moldy is a pathological liar, a womanizer, and pretty much a total unreliable asshole. I know all of this because he is a pseudo friend of mine. Pseudo in that I hang with him on occasion, can have a beer and a laugh with him, but don’t trust even a teensy little bit.

Recently, I went out with a Mutual Friend of myself and Moldy and had a conversation that went as such::

Me:: Hey, how is Moldy? I have not seen the kid for a while.

Mutual Friend:: He is really good, he has been really busy dating lots of chicks.

Me:: Say whhhha? Did he and Dee break up??

Mutual Friend:: Oh shit, I forgot you are friends with Dee. Please, please, please don’t say anything.

Me:: Of course not. It is none of my business.

BUT, the problem is this. I don’t actually believe that it is none of my business. Because after all, Dee is my friend. If I were Dee, and I loved a man who was cheating on me and my friends knew, I would damn well expect them to tell me about it.

So that is what I did in a roundabout way. I didn’t want to get Mutual Friend in hot water, so I made up a cockamamie story about how I thought that maybe I may have possibly maybe seen Moldy with another gal. My thought was that telling Dee her boyfriend might be cheating 1) would cause her to reexamine the relationship, and 2) would force her to confront Moldy and he’d have to come clean, since he is in fact cheating.

Turns out, neither of the results I had anticipated came to pass. Dee refused to talk to Moldy because according to her, he is under a lot of pressure and she does not want to add to it. And further, Moldy would NEVER cheat. They are in love. I am mistaken. And that is that.

On one hand, I understand where Dee is coming from. She is desperate for a relationship and to feel deeply connected to someone. She does not want to see how flawed her chosen partner is, because she is desperate, and she can pretend, at least for now, he is what she wants.

On the other hand, I want to say to her – For the love of God lady, wake the hell up. You are dating a total asshole. Just because you don’t want to admit it or see it, does not make it any less true. And when a friend of your’s who loves you tells you something, perk up your ears, open your eyes, and stop being so stupidly naive.

But of course, I can’t say that to Dee. So I am saying it to you instead.

No title is good enough.

First of all, let me say – holy fucking shit. Second, let me say – the following is shockingly, amazingly, karma is a mean bitch-edly true.

Most of you will recall my tales of Evil Troll. The basic synopses is as follows::

Once upon a time, Evil Troll and I were BFF style. Inseparable. Sisterly, even. I defended her against plethora’s of (correct) naysayers. I put up with her absolute flakery. I introduced her to all my friends and basically made her part of my family. And worst of all, I made the fateful decision last September to move in with her.

Fast forward two months, and Evil Troll informs me that she is going to bail on the lease to move in with her boyfriend of one point five months. She fails to inform me that in the process, she intends to lie, cheat, steal and act like a total psychopath.

For a while, I was very sad, not to mention completely stressed that she and I had moved into a giant house for which I was now solely responsible. I started to surround myself with non-Evil Troll like persons. Time passed. The anger subsided. The memories of the havoc Evil Troll caused faded. Recently, I stopped thinking of Evil Troll (almost) altogether.



When I come home, and find who?

Nope, not Evil Troll.

I find Evil Troll’s mother fucking BOYFRIEND!

Hooking up with my New roommate (who for the sake of clarity, is not Evil Troll).

[Aside:: They had meet when New Roommate came to visit the house a few times before she moved in. Turns out they met again today – and well, the rest is history as they say.]

Let’s recap shall we?

Evil Troll befriends Diet Coke, Evil Troll fucked Diet Coke over to move in with her boyfriend, Evil Troll hoodwinks some poor unsuspecting girl to take over her lease and buy all of her stuff, poor unsuspecting girl ends up fucking Evil Troll over by fucking Evil Troll’s boyfriend.


Part of me feels sad for Evil Troll because that totally sucks, and frankly, is not that kind of thing that people should have to experience. But dang, former home slice had it coming. Also, what kind of total asshat is this boyfriend of hers (or not hers, rather)??!?!?!

Aristotle Boy Strikes Back.

[Enter star wars theme music.]

My life, and my love life in particular, is destined to be complicated.* Thusly, just as I had given up hope [literally, the last oz. of hope drained out of me two seconds before the following took place], AB email me.


His email read as following (in a Diet Coke style nutshell): Hi, I was thinking about you. I just wanted you to know that. But because I want to keep you guessing about whether I am interested or not, I am not going to ask you out or otherwise engage you. I am instead going to say “talk to you soon” and make you exist another week in agony. Because that is how I roll. Philosopher style. Joop.**

Anyhow, the good of it is that I am not getting the total blow off, which makes my fragile (not really) ego feel better. The bad of it is…I was sooo (kind of) over it. And now I am back under it.

Also, things are further complicated by the fact that I have been spending some quality time (read, he spent the night) with Certain Someone. Nothing naughty happened. But still, it is confusing because I like spending time with him.

Calgon, take me away!

* Yes, I do know that is because I make it so.

** Joop is a word that I am going to single handedly bring into existence. I it is meant to be a jestful*** combination of bye, later, over and out, woot, hoot, yup and [WORD YOU LIKE] all rolled up into one. It is awesome. Trust me.

*** Don’t know if “jestful” is a word. Let’s just pretend.

Dear Blackberry, I hate you. Hard.

I fired up a new posting with the intent of joyously expounding about the glory of Thursday’s end of the work day when one happens to have Friday off (which I happen to have off this week) – when ZIP! BOOM! BOP! BAM! – I get an email from a client indicating that there will be no end to my Thursday. Maybe ever.** Why did this happen? I will tell you why. Because clients have Blackberry’s. And so do their attorney’s. And so they can be in the airport on a flight to Hong Kong when they all of a sudden remember to forward you a certain GIANT HORRIBLE ANNOYING document, with a note that says to make said document more giant, slightly less horrible, and infinitely more annoying at once.
Which all brings me to my point: The Blackberry.
The employee/Blackberry relationship strikes me as being very much like how I imagine marriage (except my own, which will be perfect).

At first, they are neat. Pleasant to be around. Provide opportunity for entertainment. Useful for communication. Slowly the casual amusement turns into co-dependence. You can’t leave home without Blackberry and Blackberry can’t stay charged up without you. Pretty soon, you can’t be anywhere without Blackberry. Let Blackberry out of your site for five minutes are you are afraid what type of shenanigans you are missing out on.

Then as soon as it came, the honeymoon period ends. Blackberry takes up too much room. None of your friends like Blackberry and are starting to complain about your constant companion. Can’t they get some alone time, they wonder? Blackberry has met your parents, and they too were largely unimpressed. But still, there are benefits. With Blackberry, you never feel lost. Blackberry provides you a sense of comfort you have grown accustomed to.

A short time later, even that begins to fade. Slowly, the surface of Blackberry starts to crack. Blackberry starts to brings you nothing but obligations. You fear/loath every encounter with Blackberry. The good times are gone. You long to live a life without Blackberry. A life where you can be free, and roam the streets alone, ready to be swept off your feet by the next technological gadget that comes your way. But it is too late. You have signed a contract. In blood. Blackberry, with help of AT&T, owns you for the rest of your natural life (one two year contract at a time). Everybody warned you not to be lured in by the fantasy. You did not take heed. You allowed yourself to be sucked into the vortex.

And now, your life is over.

Anyhow. Yeah. I hate my Blackberry.
** In the interest of being fair, I do actually like my current job a great big – despite this recent slap. And it is still exponentially better than my old job [Note: by “old job” I mean “the old torture chamber to which I would report on a daily basis”]

loving, living, driving (badly), laughing, growing, losing, crying, smiling, winning, learning, watching tv, calorie counting and thriving. in LA.


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