Where Is My Buzzfeed Article About Crochet Feels? (never mind, I’ll do it myself…)


When you can’t find that super cute pattern for free, so you have to shell out five bucks to download it.

and then, after you’ve worked one row, are super confident with it– and NEVER USE THE PATTERN AGAIN

When you find that super cute pattern–but it’s written in swahili

thank god for google translate–amirite

When someone refers to what you are doing as “knitting”

it’s called crocheting–mmmk

When you realize you’ve spent all day searching the internet for the perfect pattern

remember when it used to be light outside?

When you have so many projects of things you’ve promised to make people–but instead you  make another hat you don’t need.

It’s my tuesday hat

When you have to take a break because your wrists hurt so bad

but, at least you know what it would be like to have a real job in an office doing computer things now, right?

When someone online asks you what you like to do “for fun”.

uh, cosplay as an 80 year old woman–I guess.

When you are so proud of all your crocheted things, that you feel compelled to wear them all at the same time

because it doesn’t look weird, it looks vintage(or something?)

When you really need to go to sleep so you can get up early, but if you just finish this one row your project will be the perfect length!

besides, who needs a full four hours of sleep?

When you finally find that super amazing stitch and it just looks so awesome and wonderful and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside and you are pretty sure that this is what love must feel like

you know, because that’s probably the closest you’re ever going to get


If It Has the Word Love In It, It Must Be A Romantic Novel–Three Books That Should Never Be Classified As Romantic.

So, I was thinking a lot about romantic novels–not to be confused with romance novels, which a are a completely different, wonderful thing–and became increasingly horrified when I realized what novels were considered to be romantic. Like, I’m a big Pride and Prejudice fan. There’s that dollop of sexism in there that can’t be ignored, but as far as romance goes it’s pretty great. You’ve got your strong independent female lead, and nobody is getting raped in there(close calls!), and the hero of the story doesn’t have a secret wife or revenge plot, great love story! But after doing a little google search, I found some horrifying news in the form of three novels that are decidedly not romantic. They are definitely about human condition and interaction, they might be about the idea of love and how fragile and delusional that really is, but they are certainly not romantic–or not romantic in anyway I, or anyone I know, would want to be romanced.

Let’s start with my pick of least romantic novel of all time:

Wuthering Heights

I don’t know why everyone keeps acting like this is the greatest love story of all time, when it is really the story of two bratty petulant children who grew up to be bratty petulant adults. If I wanted to think of a love as two over indulged children growing up and being pissy about not getting what they want I would watch a lot more reality TV.

The only romantic part of this book is when Catherine II falls in love with the stable boy because she is being forced to be an indentured servant and he is her only friend that she is teaching how to read. Let’s let that sink in. The most romantic part of the book is about a girl who gets kidnapped and basically falls in love by proximity. But far be it from me to discredit Heathcliff’s surly passions.

I really blame Heathcliff for hipsters. Heathcliff was the originally broody man-child that haunts my twentieth century dating dreams. This dude was an orphan who gets taken in by a semi-rich man and lives with his two kids as their brother. So it is creepy enough that he falls in love with Catherine the First to begin with, but creepier still that when she is like “no thanks Heath, I’m actually kind of a spoiled brat and I am going to marry rich Edgar so I can be a real lady,” that he doesn’t just get over it and move on. Like, I get it dude, we have all been in love and all had our first rejection and it’s crazy painful–but all us non-crazies get over it. We move on with our lives and do not spend 20+ years sulking around plotting revenge.

I mean, his revenge literally spans generations. He marries Edgar’s sister and is such a D that she has to move away. He tricks his foster brother into leaving him the house they grew up in, and then tricks Catherine II into marrying his little whiny beast of an offspring so he can get Edgar’s house too and keep Catherine II as, basically, a slave. That. Is. Insane.

But, I guess if you throw in one sobbing speech about how you wish Catherine the First could still walk the earth even as a ghost because you can’t bear to be without her in this world, suddenly it’s the most romantic novel of all time.

One creepy stalker speech does not a romantic novel make.

Equally disturbing in it’s ability to incite the passions:

Jane Eyre

Now, you all know that he kept his first wife in the attic, right? Like, I just want to make sure that we are all on the same page and we just didn’t forget that about the fact that he knew his wife was in the attic and then lied about it and tried to marry another person.

I mean, I know dude is super smoldery with passionate dark eyes, but I don’t think we can just pretend like he didn’t just do a super horrendous thing.

I mean, I can’t.

Let’s all just take a minute to read Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys and we can meet back here and talk about how romantic Mr. Rochester is.

There is nothing, I repeat, nothing romantic about being tricked into polygamy, people.

Just because Jane is a sad little orphan girl desperate for affection does not mean we get to use her desperation to erase our current wife. Not cool Rochester. Lying is not cool. Sequestering people into attics to live out the rest of their lives is not cool . Driving them to crazy town so they keep burning buildings is Not. Cool.

This book is not romantic, it simply has elements of romance, and shows how badly things can go wrong and how easily people are duped. I suppose, in the end, Jane comes into herself and makes her own decisions, but the fact that she returns to Rochester, even after everything that has happened, makes me more sad for her than happy for love.

Poor Jane is just an orphan who wants affection. She thinks she finds it with with Rochester, who is pretty much just a giant con man willing to take advantage of a sad girl desperate for love. When she finds out he is a super liar, she runs away and encounters some modicum of luck. You think learning your beloved trapped a woman in an attic and lied about her existence and ultimately didn’t care about you enough to tell you the truth would be enough to keep her from hanging out with crazies for the rest of her life, but Jane just can’t help herself. When Rochester’s first wife does in fact succeed in burning down the house and almost taking Rochester with her to death, you think Jane would be like “ sucks to be you fool, you got what you deserved”, but instead she’s like “rad, now we can get married”, and they do and have a kid to top it all off. So, I’d say the depth of Jane’s delusion is pretty frightening. All Jane seems to learn is that you need to make sure your soon-to-be husband’s first wife isn’t alive and kicking. Jane seems to be cool with it, however, maybe she will enjoy lording that over him for the rest of her life.

I’m going to go ahead and mark this novel down as the opposite of a love story. I’m 90-100% sure that great romances are not based in lies and the knowledge that at any given moment your S.O. will be perfectly content to lock you in an attic for the rest of your life.

This leads me to the most surprising find in my search of the romantic novel

Tess of the D’Ubervilles

I just want to put this down to ignorance of the plot. Like, maybe people just read the book and, you know, forgot what it was about because they were bored or something. Seriously, if this book is romantic to you, let me direct you to the works of V.C. Andrews.

Let’s just do a synopsis, shall we.

So, Tess goes to work at her cousin’s house and they are super rich. She’s pretty hot and her cousin, Alec, wants to get up in that. She refuses and he rapes her because, you know, he can.

Tess gets pregnant and has to peace out because whore-dom from being raped out of wedlock.

She raises the kid for like a year or something on this far where she meets a pretty nice dude named Angel or something equally ridiculous (it is, in fact, Angel)_) and they fall in “love”. This will be the only part of the book I can even begin to consider romantic, and it’s really more of a plot point.

So at some point before or after Angel and Tess falling in love Tess’ kid dies and that is pretty sad, but Angel is like “I’m super amazing and my name is Angel which kind of means i must be the most pure and wonderful person ever, so lets get married” so they are going to get married

Tess is super distraught because Angel is, you know, amazing, and she is like the worst ever for getting raped under the trees by her rich cousin, so she writes a confession to him. Angel, being the most observant person in the world, does not find her note and she marries him thinking he knows her dark secret, and he marries her thinking she didn’t get raped.

Fast forward to the wedding night where Angel, the pious and good, tells Tess how he had a fling with some lady prior to their marriage. Tess is like “it’s cool bae, remember how I got raped? That is somehow the same as you having consenting sex, so you shouldn’t feel bad because I am also unclean. Even though the sex you had was consensual and I was raped while I was sleeping and then got pregnant and had a baby that died, it’s totally the same situation so you don’t need to feel bad”. Which, is pretty cool of Tess to be so understanding.

So, like, you would expect good sweet Angel–hello Angel!– would be this super rad dude and be really upset over the fact that the love of his life got raped. You would expect Angel would be all like “what I am going to destroy that guy, I can’t believe he’d do that to you!” Right? Oh-ho, turns out no. Angel is like “What!? You’re a whore and I can’t believe you tricked me into marrying you and thinking you were a good person,” and then he peaces out and Tess is really, understandably, upset and ends up killing Alec (good for her).


So eventually Angel is like ”Oh, they should have named me Big Richard in this book because I am being a huge dick” and goes to tell Tess he is sorry. Turns out even though nobody gets in trouble for rape, killing people is still a big no-no and Tess is about to get hanged. Tess, in all her wisdom, tells Angel that it’s cool that he was such a d-bag to her, and he should just marry her sister instead.

So, yeah, I guess if you think incest cousin rape, baby death, and murder, and sleeps with my sister is romantic–then that is a romantic novel.

These are stories of people who are stunted in their abilities to be complete people. They are desperate for love and find it in the wrong places, at the wrong time, and they are unable to move on from that. Heathcliff can’t move on from Catherine, Jane from Rochester, and Tess from Angel. They are all wrapped up in their warped ideals of love and those people who had said they loved them were false in their declarations. Sadly, none of these characters were ever able to find the true love they may or may not have deserved. Just because some of it turns out as a happy ending does not make it a love story, and the tragic ending doesn’t make it a tragic love story. These are stories about love, but they are not romantic. I think it’s time we learned the difference.


If You Don’t Like Me, Just Say So

Dating is incredibly difficult. So much more difficult than not dating. I understand why I stayed in a relationship long after it had worn itself thin–so I wouldn’t have to do this again. Understanding the opposite sex is brutal. I assume also the same sex, but since I haven’t experienced same sex dating I can’t speak to it. The games people plane are so strange and disconcerting, and I honestly don’t know how they have time for it. I barely have time to write about it, let alone do it all day every day until someone gets worn out enough to be my SO. I feel like a great deal of my dating time is spent just trying to deconstruct text messages, when all I really want is a very blunt message about what is going on. I don’t know what it is about the thrill of the chase that is so very thrilling, and maybe I don’t get it because I hate running, but Id’ rather just know right off the bat what the situation is. If after the first date I could just know whether or not the dude thinks it’s going to pan out or not or if he needs another date to decide, that would be great. If he just wants to get it on and thinks dinner and a walk in the park is the way to ease in to that, thanks for the 411, mate. If after wards he’d prefer not to talk to me again, then at least I’ll know not to blow up his phone with a bunch of messages about the new sushi restaurant that just opened up. I don’t know what about hat concept is so difficult, bit it seems to be a real problem in my particular dating pool. I’m constantly trying to decipher whether the word “busy” is actually being used as the word it is intended to mean, and that he will in fact get back to me when he is done with work/school/extracurricular. Or, if “busy” is actually a strange euphemism for “I don’t really like you, but I don’t want to tell you, so instead I’m going to say that I am busy”.  And, I would really like to answer the age old question of “If a guy whispers a sweet nothing, but nobody else is around to hear it–does it really mean anything at all”? I’m guessing no, because the amount of times a guy has said something to me or my friends that amounted to “you’re a great girl, and I’d like you to be my girlfriend”, only to not return a call the next day cannot even be counted on the fingers and toes of all my girlfriends put together. All I really want, is a definitive acceptance or rejection of my romantic advances, and even a full on rejection seems hard to come by these days.


 I’ve often found that people seem to think the act of rejecting someone is far worse than the act of giving that person a false hope. I am guilty of this action myself. Somewhere we have bot it in our heads that our love/admiration/desire is somehow paramount to another persons self worth because they showed an interest in us. Newsflash–it isn’t.It has been too often that I have been with a man, only to have him create some kind of false sense of security in the potential flower of our relationship, and then never hear from him again. It’s inane and awful. Firstly, I hate to waste my time caring about a relationship that is going absolutely nowhere. Secondly, I feel incredibly foolish caring about a relationship that is going absolutely nowhere. But, thirdly, and probably most importantly, I just don’t care that much about you in terms of your rejection. What, You say. Thats so harsh, you say. Obviously you care about that person, you are going on dates with them! You’re upset that they aren’t writing you back! Excellent points. I care about you, person I am dating, right up until the point you want to reject me. At that point, all I care about is getting that out of the way so I can move on. You and your rejection are very little in the grand scheme of my life. What I actually care about is whether or not I should spend my time on someone or something, and whether or not that time spent is worth it. I, actually, care very little both you if you are not interested in me. Your rejection will, of  course, be painful. All rejection is painful. If i put myself out there, it is because I was expecting a return, so naturally that is going to hurt on some level. But, that passes. And, it really passes quickly. Even more quickly, I might add, if you just tell me up front that you aren’t all that interested. 


But, for whatever reason, even when I tell a man all I wan is the honestly, I don’t care when why or how, just as long as he makes it clear what he wants and treats me like a human being I am willing to work with it, he still seems to find it necessary to  to fabricate some desire that is not really there.  For instance– I saw a man once, let’s call him Exhibit A. Exhibit A and I spent an evening together. During that time, he used terms in the future tense “I will  take you there, we should go there soon, next time we will do this” blah blah blah etc,oh the power of words! After a day had passed, I sent a text message something to the effect of “If you really are interested in seeing me again, these are the dates I have open. If you aren’t , iI had a great time, see you around”. Now, Exhibit A could have done one of two things if he was not interested. He could have just not written me back. Cold and cruel but the easiest tactic. It’s not the first time that would have happened to me, certainly not the last. I’ve done it to several people, though I am not terribly proud of it. It is the most stinging way to tell a person “I just am not even interested enough in you to send you a ‘thanks but no thanks’ text”, but it was only one date, so neither of us were that invested. If that isn’t his style, Exhibit A could have sent the “thanks, but no thanks” text. But, he didn’t do either of these things.


Instead, a very enthusiastic text was sent about how he would definitely see me again, but was busy (there is that pesky busy!) this week, and would get in touch with me next week. Then….silence. Not a word. Magically, two or so weeks later a text message arrives apologizing for the silence by hue had x amount of things going on, all of which are now resolved. I don’t think I am a very stupid person, I had my misgivings, but I always wanted to be understanding. I mean, I’ve been busy before, I’ve let things slip away from me before. Hell, I have even gone out with someone, thought I like someone else, then changed my mind before. Those things happen, and so I thought…okay, let’s give it another shot. So, we came up with another date, and, wouldn’t you know, hours before there is suddenly a family emergency. Yes, at this point it becomes ridiculous. I won’t make any excuses for myself for the fact that I let it continue to the planning of a third date, suffice it to say I knew in my heart of hearts it wasn’t going  to happen–but was still, sadly, holding out for lack of anything better going on. We set up a third date for after the family emergency was over. He continued to text me right up until the day before, and that was the last I ever heard of Exhibit A.


 So what was the point of that, exactly? Why start a fire, put it out, rekindle it, and put it out two more times before letting it alone? Just to see how many times you can get it to burn before you are tired of it? I suppose that makes the most sense, some kind of funny pastime to see how many hoops you can get a woman to jump through before it just becomes too sad.

And it is sad.


Sadder still, the kind of norm it has become. This isn’t just an instance where I have foolish idealizations of an obvious situation. Certainly, I should have been able to pick out the signs that he wasn’t interested. See, there–I should have. But, what makes it so difficult is this exact type of situation happens all.the.time.


This particularly instance, perhaps, a more grandiose example of the sort of thing that happens  on a day to day basis with my male interactions, but all and all its a fairly direct representation. My life is fraught with men who seriously can’t seem to get it together enough to express what it is they want. Instead of just saying “no thank you, I”m not interested”  or, even, “I am interested, but not in what you are interested in” it’s a whole maze of answered and unanswered texts, scheduling and rescheduling, words and phrases that seem to mean one thing but turns out means another. A lot of times excuses seem legitimate enough, who doesn’t have to feed their pet hamster and do their nuclear fission homework on a Thursday night, right? When you tell a person  that you just want honesty, and it is okay if they don’t want from you what you want from them, you just expect to get an honest answer. Sometimes people are busy, excuses are real, and life and things do happen at inopportune moments. So if you can’t trust a person to answer honestly when honesty is asked, what do you believe and what do you scoff at?I don’t want to become a callous and bitter person who doesn’t trust anything a man says to me. I want to believe that what I give, I will get in return.


I see it too often, not just with my own experiences, but those of my friends. It’s horrible and confusing, and I wish there was a way to control it. But, the only thing that seems to scare people off faster than an “I love you” on the first date (I swear, I’ve never done that!), is when a person asks “What is it you want from this” after a first date. It is a question that people are terrified to answer,and it makes them put an automatic brake on whatever situation is budding.  And, it’s really the only question I want to ask, and the only one I need answered because I cannot read whatever signals people are trying to put out. Whatever handbook everyone else got that decodes the dash-dash-dot of male/female dating, I didn’t get that one. I don’t know what it means when you say you have a “family emergency” or when you want to take me to that restaurant the “next time we go out”. Are all those words just middle talk, or is there a part of it I should take seriously? What do I believe, and what is fabrication. Why is it so difficult to just express the point, instead of dancing around the issues until we are all dizzy?

I spoke to a stranger about this issue, and I received particularly good advice. People who don’t receive you as you are, shouldn’t be bothered with. If someone isn’t giving you the things you want, they never will. You can waste your time chasing people and trying to figure it out, or you can just let them be, and find someone who is ready to receive your love the way you choose to give it, and gives you the love you want in return. That is a fairly obvious statement. Clearly, we shouldn’t chase people who aren’t captivated and exited by our particular way of handling relationships. Obviously, if a person is driving you nuts with how they communicate with you in the beginning of a relationship, that isn’t going to stop driving you crazy just because you start dating. And, if a person is terrified by the fact that you love to be honest, that isn’t a very good relationship to have if you love honesty. It is so much more difficult than that. It is so very easy to get wrapped up and distracted by people when you think they are someone you want to be with. It is very easy to mistake signs, or turn a bland eye to them, because it better suits our own inter stets and ideals not to notice them. The thing we are best at is arguing ourself out of the idea that someone is flawed when we love them. How many relationships drag on much longer than they should because excuses are being made, and signs overlooked. It’s wonderful advice, but it is not easy to take. I will try as hard as I can to look at all the evidence before me , and see it for what it is. I will try to not make excuses for the things that are red flags. And, I will try to believe that what I have to offer ,someone will want to receive from me. Not just want to receive it, but be elated that that is the particular way in which I love. 

And all I can ask for in return is that you try to be honest with me.



Even Pretty Women Like To Be Told They Are Something More

My friend was seeing this guy, and he told her she was really sexy.

Doesn’t sound like much of a story, does it? More like a normal day in the life of a pretty girl. You are dating a guy (for the sake of this story it will be a guy, but feel free to insert your gender specific desired SO into the story), and that guy lets you know you’re an attractive  individual. Case closed, end of story, move on to what’s for lunch please.

But, what if you don’t like being told you’re sexy?
Or pretty.

Or hot.

Or beautiful.

Or any term, and any phrase that indicates such a thing. 

Does that sound a little strange? Do you feel a little confused, reading that idea? A little jarring, even, to think that someone actively dislikes being told that they are attractive. 

Imagine this:

Imagine you are a gorgeous gal. Imagine you had yourself some big blue eyes and some flawless skin and a great body. Imagine someone plucked you right out of an Abercrombie magazine. Seems pretty great, right? Despite the fact that I have described not one other aspect of you–not your humor, intelligence, or temperament, it sounds like I’ve created a pretty awesome life for you. Imagine that’s all anyone ever talked to you about. Not any of the things that really make you you, but instead only the surface things. Wouldn’t that be awful? 

   But, let’s not just stop there. Imagine that you meet a guy, and you like him enough to let him put his tongue in your mouth. You tell him point blank that you don’t like being called pretty/sexy/hot/cute, what have you. You don’t like to be called out on your looks, and that aspect of your person just isn’t important to you. Being told that you are those things makes you feel weird and uncomfortable. But he ignores it. Because that is just so silly, isn’t it?Doesn’t everyone like to hear that they are attractive? Aren’t we all just dying to be told we are coveted by whatever sex we wish to be coveted by (and maybe even the ones we don’t)? What else are the myriad of beauty products for? The make up, the clothes, dieting, exercise –what is that even for if not to look attractive? (Don’t tell me you’re dieting for health, I know its because you want to  look good in skinny jeans).  Because we’ve been conditioned so strongly to believe that beauty is the value to be upheld over all others. And beauty specific to women. We don’t need to tell a woman anything more than that she is beautiful for her to be complacent, and we are struck down and confused when it turns out she wants more. And instead of struggling to find any other compliment to give her,  this man defers to what is easiest, and becomes defensive when she is upset. Disregarding a persons wishes because some standard set long ago deems the desire to be wanted for more than just a pretty face as silly. Then not owning up to that blatant disregard because the anger appears irrational.

   The want to be regarded as a whole person is not silly, nor is the desire to be heard. Words are our power and ignoring those words is one way to take power away. Just because something doesn’t make sense, doesn’t mean it is supposed to be ignored. What a person wants doesn’t get to be tossed to the side just because it doesn’t fit in to the standard we believe to be true. The fact that she told him so pointedly that she didn’t want to words about her physical appearance to be used as a form of seduction or expression of affection and he did it anyway only contributes to the culture where women’s wants and needs are disregarded by men who think what they believe is right. He would do it anyway and say “I know you don’t like it, but you are [hot/sexy/a babe]”. How is that different from “I know you said no, but [you wanted it/you were dressed like that]”? It isn’t. When a woman says thing, she means it. When a woman asks for a thing, it should be addressed and heard. It’s unfortunate if what she says does not coincide with our belief of what she wants, but that doesn’t make it any less true or valid. If we want to call a woman beautiful, then we need to be with a woman who likes to be called that. 

   I can understand where the intent comes from. In this world we are socially programmed to believe that to compliment a woman on her beauty is the highest compliment we can give.I often catch myself doing it to. It’s easy and safe and you don’t have to think about anything. The visual stimulation is enough. We don’t have to think of a person and what they entail, because the mere compliment of attractiveness is sufficient. It’s not a gender thing, it’s a people thing–a human thing. I often times will defer to “you’re so pretty”, because that’s the thing I would most want to hear, and it’s the thing I would most want to hear because I have been taught that that is what is of value. Instead of looking deeper and finding the thing that makes that person beautiful in my eyes, I compliment what is on the surface. So, of course, when a person calls a girl pretty and she is offended, the person who has wronged them goes immediately on the defense. Instead of listening to the desire of the person that has been  offended, we must immediately defend our rights to express our own feelings. What we want, more than anything, is to make sure that everyone knows that *we* are not the bad guy here. It is *her* fault for misinterpreting my intentional compliment as something nasty or crude. Because we “didn’t mean it” to be offensive, it suddenly becomes in our mind inoffensive.  But, this is a false reality. It doesn’t matter how *right* we are in our own minds. And it doesn’t matter how well intended a compliment is. If the person we gave it to doesn’t receive it that way, it is no longer a compliment. What actually matters is how we affect those  we are speaking to. What matters is not taking that experience and turning into how good of  a person we are, and how wronged we are by not not having it be taken the right way, but by taking that experience and learning how what we may believe to be true might actually be false.

Not all women like being called pretty.

And even the women who like it, are comprised of more than that.

And isn’t it time that we started trying to look at women, at men, at each other as people who are made of things deeper than skin. The only way to take away the power of what is so deeply ingrained into us is to not be complacent with a archaic notions. Beauty is not standard, just a happy by product of the true person we are. It should be coveted to be funny, intelligent , creative, interesting, driven, worldly, affable, exciting, genuine, pleasant, honest, any number of things that can describe what we are besides what lies in the physical realm. The go to compliment and the easiest compliment should not be what lies right in front of your face, but what you took the time to notice about the other person. It should become easy to pick out what is good about the person you care for and exhaust it, not what can be easily seen by any passerby.  Tell her she has a pretty face if that’s what she likes, but only after you’ve told her what makes her whole and unique. 



Ode To the Shoe Print On the Inside of the Toilet


O, there you are seen

a stark contrast to

the white porcelain

you are set onto


You’re a mystery

A puzzle to me

How can you be?

I’ve no way to see


Vainly I shall seek

The secret you hold

A meaning to eek

But, you are so cold


What is your meaning

What story to say

What is your being

How came you this way?


Who would leave you here

So sad, so alone

All that is left is fear

You’re closed, like a tome


You reveal nothing

Silent, like you came

You hide everything

You’ll leave all the same


Cleaned off like a cut

Your secret is drowned

You are now gone but

Your puzzle abounds


As sly as a cat

An answer that’s shown

To a riddle that

I have never known



I was cleaning the bathroom at work the other day, and I saw the inner bowl of the toilet had a very distinct footprint. Why?


What could a person possibly need to stand on the inside of the toilet bowl for? Any reason I could possibly think of is automatically rejected.

They needed something on the ceiling.

They were engaged in some elaborate kind of sex act.

They didn’t want to touch the toilet seat so they were squatting.

Even in these wild scenarios, a person would have much better leverage with the toilet seat down (not the lid, mind you). 

I can not for the life of me begin to understand what the necessity of standing on the bowl of the toilet would be. 

It’s not even a pet peeve, really, I’m more impressed than anything. It must take a kind of balance to stand so precariously on the edge of the seat and not fall into the bowl. I think I would notice someone coming out of the bathroom with one sopping leg, and no such incidence occur. I would almost want to shake the hand of such an individual, except who knows what they are doing in there.

All I can hope is that they leave a note next time, so I’m not left wondering.



“Do You Have Sexy Feet?” and Other People From Internet Dating That Crack Me Up

Sometimes I worry about myself. I seem to be inept at meeting men. I draw, like moth to the flame, old men and men that have significant others. I’m sure this happens to all kinds of women, but it’s particularly annoying when it’s happening to one’s self. Of course, in these dire times I go where anyone else would go–to the internet! Yes! The safe, warm embrace of the internet. Where I can put all my best characteristics and most flattering photos on a website and hopefully find a higher caliber of man…on the internet.

Lot’s of people meet great guys on the web, don’t get me wrong. I’m not bashing, obviously, because I’m doing it. But, the success rate seems to be higher among women and men who are older. I can only guess because a 25-30 year old man online is just the same as a 25-30 year old man in life. So my success rate online is, if not the same, somewhat worse than in “the real world” and it might be due to the anonymity of the situation. People online seem to think they are owed something somehow because they, too, got the awesome idea to put a profile online. Many men seem to believe that if they take the effort to put themselves out there, then praise is due. Some seem to think it an appropriate medium to find a casual encounter, and some seem to think it’s a place to let out their deepest fantasies. And, you know, online is probably the best place to do that. But, a lot of times, I don’t think they much care who they are directing their intentions at. My profile states I’m looking for a relationship, has some generic information about me–like that I like to read, and do crafty things, and don’t know how to clean my room appropriately. At no point do I mention a need to be subservient, or an overactive sex drive, or having daddy issues. Yet so many responses seem to gloss over that fact and decide that I am an appropriate target for unwanted solicitation. Perhaps it is a blanket effect, I might be (and probably am) one of many women receiving the same kind of attention from the exact same user. At first it bothered me, but now I sit back and enjoy the show. If anything is too downright creepy it can be reported and the user blocked, so there is no reason why I can’t read these messages and reflect.

My favorite is when a guy gets mad at me when I don’t respond to his message. As if I now owe him something because we both signed up for this free website and he got the guts to message me. I message people all.the.time. that do not write me back. And when they don’t write me back, I might get a little bit bummed out, but I move on. Clearly, that person could not see how awesomely badass I am, but that’s their thing to deal with. Why would I want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me? Why would I try to force an interest that isn’t there? I wouldn’t. And I specifically wouldn’t want to force that interest out of any kind of guilt.

I received this message the other day

“Hey, what’s up? Generic comment. Talk to you soon!”

I looked up the dudes profile, nothing that sparked my interest. I wasn’t attracted to him, I wasn’t attracted to anything in his profile, and  the message he sent me was short and had nothing in it to attract my attention. I moved on. I did not respond to him. So a few days later I get another message.

“Wow, you know, it’s polite to at least respond. rude.”

Are you for mother flippin serial?

First of all, I am not  on this website to cater to your every need. Maybe if you, gentleman from the internet, do not like the fact that that I don’t respond to you, correctly assume I’m somewhat of a bitch and move on. There are tons of reasons not to respond to someone. I just happened to not respond to him because I wasn’t interested. Sometimes I read a message and forget because I get distracted. Sometimes I want to go back and peruse their profile when I have more time. Sometimes after a few days I get back to responding because I am not sure what to say. A million and one reasons but it all boils down to the fact that I don’t owe this profile a response. But even if I wanted to respond to him and was taking my good sweet time about it, you know what I sure as shit don’t respond to? Someone trying to berate me into talking to them. That is 100% not what I am looking for in a relationship.

I don’t talk to you and so now you try and make me feel like an asshole for that fact? Well sign me up, because now I am really excited about making your acquaintance. In fact, thats why I signed up for this dating website, so I could date a dude who makes me feel like shit for my behavior. There are any amount of things that guy could have said that would have gotten me to respond, but trying to guilt me into it certainly isn’t one of them. And could you imagine what kind of date we would have based on that?  What could be the thought process behind that? If he really insists on having a response for every rejection (why? Isn’t it shitty enough the person you wrote doesn’t write you back? You want the physical words in front your face telling you they aren’t interested?) put that shit in your profile. I am way more likely to respond if it says in the persons profile that they’d like (like, not demand) a response, even if it’s a no. I’m a person. I’ve been in plenty of situations where I would have preferred and answer.  But, if it doesn’t say that, and I am not interested, then I am not going to write back. And if you don’t like that, then you won’t like me, and I don’t quite see what the problem is at this point. I’ve already made the easy decision.

Along the tract of the guy who thinks he is entitled to something from me, the person he has never met or spoken to, is the guy who really is sure I’m missing out on a good thing.

This dude generally has some sexy name lie…”cockstud” or “roughrider2514” and the pictures are mostly of his torso. He is looking for an intimate encounter and tries to seduce me thusly:

day 1: “hey”

day 5: “hey”

day 6: “hey”

day 12: “hey”

day 15: “hey”

day 15: “your missin out on a good thing–to bad”

Am I? Am I missing out on your unsurpassed eloquence, you’re impeccable grammar, and ripped bod? I think I’m okay. As before noted, my profile doesn’t say I am looking for an intimate encounter, so it’s going to take fuck lot more than a string of “hey”s to get into my pants, but great try. i can really feel all the effort that went in to it. And so cool that you were able to move past all those “hey”s and let me know you are in command of more than one word by telling me what I’m missing. That really makes my panties wet. Please, explain to me more. Tell me all about how I’m missing out on this great guy with the monosyllabic vocabulary. However will I survive? you sure showed me. Please, let me respond to this and we can really get this relationship going.


Who are the women that respond to that? You probably should not be putting your dick in those women unsheathed. I have to assume it had worked on someone and some time in order for this particular breed of dude to continue  on this path, but I can’t imagine who it would be. Maybe someone with a similar writing style.

There are also the dudes with the fetishes that think its necessary and prudent to try to include me in that. My judgement is not about the fetish, do what you want, my judgement is purely for the fact that it was presented to me and how. One day a man messaged me this.

“Hey, my name is Blah. You seem like a really nice girl, I’d love to get to know you. By the way…do you have sexy feet?”


Oh, I see, it’s an afterthought. You just thought you’d casually slip that in there like you weren’t super concerned but just thought you’d ask. You were gonna just hit the send button but then were like “oh wait, maybe I should ask if she has sexy feet. Maybe I should also ask her if she has a lactose allergy? Nah…that would be too personal”.

I must allow you to know, no where on my profile are there pictures of my feet. There are not even pictures of shoes. I don’t mention shoes or feet anywhere in my profile. There is no evidence in my profile to even suggest I have feet, let alone that I would be interested in helping someone out with their foot fetish. If I had a particular fetish, I think I would be interested in trying to see if the person I was trying do something with also had this same fetish before I asked them about it. I don’t think I’d dive right in there blind in the offhand hopes that he would be in to it, too. But that’s just me.

Regardless, I didn’t write this dude back. And would you believe a month later he messages me AGAIN.

“Seriously, I’d pay you to let me touch your feet”

Oh, well shit. Now I’m all about it. Cause before, when I didn’t answer, I was just holding out to see if you were gonna offer me money. I am so confused. What is this life that you would feel that that was necessary or appropriate? You aren’t putting all the pieces of a normal human interaction together enough to realize that when someone doesn’t write you back about your foot fetish that means they aren’t interested? You aren’t worried that continuing to harass them about it doesn’t come off as creepy? You think it’s okay to be inappropriate like that because it’s the internet? I can see your face dude! There are pictures of you. It’s not like you’re invisible. And I am clearly not either. I am also a person, why would you think that’s okay?

I did not respond to that message either,so I can’t tell you how much he was willing to pay to touch my feet. This is the question I am constantly asked by this story, and I am sorry I have no answer!

My second favorite, next to the berating dudes who think that making me feel bad will get them a date, are the guys with mad internet game. The guys who come up with these brilliant lines that must make all girls weak at the knees, both on and off the online sphere. How do they do it? Why are they even on a dating website with lines of pure gold? They have to be getting mad pussy with humdingers like these:

“Want to get pizza and fuck?”

Oh my god, yes. How did you know I was both hungry and horny at the same time? How courteous of you to want to feed me first. Oh…you want me to pay? And we have to go to my house because you still live with your parents? And could we stop at the crack house on the way so you can get a rock? Pass….

“Do you like giving bj’s?”

Oh, are you, like, doing a poll? Are you going to take all this information home and put it in a little pie chart and present it at a conference? I am so glad I can be a part of this earth shattering work. I am sure that after I answer this question, you’ll leave me alone and I’ll never hear from you again. It’s for science.

“hey you willing to host for a night of some good fun?”

Gosh, you know, I am only willing to host for a night of mediocre fun. If it’s too good then  it just bums me out– you know?

Daaaaang these guys know how to woo a woman and treat her like more than just an object. I mean, just outdoing themselves here at this point. And even if the endgame is just to get laid, and obviously the end game here is to just get laid, do they really not know any better? Never watched a movie? Read a book? Seen a TV show? Been outside? Are they really so desperate for strange that they want to bajang the girl that responds to these lines in the affirmative? Or is it just loneliness plain and simple? Trying to reach out for some kind of connection, even a false one?

All I know is, it provides me with hours of endless entertainment, if not a bit of sadness. Not that it is all bad. I have talked to several nice guys on dating websites, and gone on a few dates which didn’t pan out. But it’s these little internet friends that make me glad that they are mostly relegated to the internet. At least here I can ignore them(sorry dude who is pissed off about that), or block them. Something I wish I could do to pervy old men and douche’s with girlfriends in real life.


Maybe You Are in Such a Hurry to Get Off the Bus Because You Have a Wedgie

       I was on the bus today and I saw these insane shorts. Twice. Not the same shorts, the same style of short. It is basically high-waist jean underwear. Now, both the girls I happened to see wearing this were slim girls who could pull that look off no problem. They are most certainly made to look attractive on tall, thin girls. But you and I both know that tall, thin girls are not the only people wearing these shorts. I’m going to skip over that part though and just focus on the fact that these shorts are so weird.  I was not joking, they legit looked like underwear. They had an underwear cut, where its kinda longer to cover your butt and then comes up in the front. Tobias Funke on Arrested Development would just be so proud because he would see them and totally think that they world was beginning to accept “never-nudes”.  I was so disturbed by them. And, to be frank, even on tall, thin girls it’s not doing that much for them. At the end of the day the discomfort level must be high and I’m not entirely certain I’d want so much of my skin touching a bus seat.
Speaking of buses and bus seats(you see that very natural segue I did there), uhm, what is going on with people standing up before the bus has stopped? I know this is not a new thing, but who made this a thing. What person decided, in his or her infinite wisdom, that the best way to get off of a bus is to start trying to get off while the bus is still moving?
Are they afraid that the bus driver is going to stop, see that no one is at the front of the bus, and keep driving? That is  why you pull the cord that alerts the bus driver that someone, somewhere on the bus wants to get off!
Or, maybe, it is life’s equivalent to “first!” comments online. Like, this person is just really, really, really excited about being the FIRST! person off the bus. It’s a life achievement, unlock a new level, collect 500 gold coins(I am not a video game player so bear with me here). This person is clearly alerting the world that they have places to go and things to do and they will be darned rootin tootin if a bus that is still moving to a stop is going to keep them from it. That extra five seconds inside of a seat will surely deter them from their destination! How will everyone know that they are in a hurry unless they struggle their way to the front of the bus before it stops?
I also want to point out here, it states oh so clearly on the bus(in Washington) that you are to pay at the front and exit at the rear of the bus. Obviously the bus driver doesn’t care, and obviously I am also exciting at the front of the bus if that’s my closest proximity. But people will actually walk from the back of the bus all the way to the front. And I don’t know why! I should ask.
It either brings me great annoyance or great joy to see this happen depending on the circumstance. I am less bemused when your high-wasit jean underwear wearing butt is being grazed across my face because you are in the inside seat and (GIVE ME A MINUTE TO MOVE MY LEGS PLEASE BEFORE YOU COME BUSTLING THROUGH) you just have  to get out rightthisminutenow. My annoyance turns to laughter oh-so-quickly as I watch the same patron do a cross between drunken-night-out and getting-my-sea-legs, as they stumble to the front of the bus. All the while the bus is jerking and jostling because, hi, it’s a bus, and the person is getting thrown back like a tiny boat on a rough sea. It is just so much work for so little pay off.
I just feel like maybe everyone should take a chill pill and wait in their seat for the very few seconds it takes for a bus to come to a complete stop. And then quietly exit the bus, go to the store, and buy some shorts that aren’t underwear.