Maybe I shouldn't say this, but.....
I love when someone uses that line. See, I am not one of those "honesty is the best policy" people. For instance, say my boyfriend goes to Vegas with friends, and in a moment of lustful, drunken, poor decision making blindness sleeps with another girl, I am not the chick who wants to know. I firmly believe that if I have a chance to take a single instance and either make it an oblivious, non-happiness-threatening secret versus an image that will haunt my mind and eat at my relationship for years to come, spare me. I do not wish for my best friend to tell me that the skirt I ask for an opinion on is indeed unflattering. If I feel hot, let me embrace the world with saddle bags while people whisper behind my back. I am 100% fine with that.
That line though, the "maybe I shouldn't....." disclaimer, well, that is a preface that speaks for itself. That is the lovely filter between the brain and the voice box which is quietly sending messages from synapse to synapse screaming, "Shut up!!!" It is a signal that should be embraced and heeded. Nothing good can come of speaking before you think.
Oddly, I have been able to enjoy some lovely moments of late due to that filtration system breaking down, apparently because having a penis somehow weakens the whole system. I know, this is gonna be a tad anti-male. Make no mistake, I love you guys, but the filter......c'mon! So, in my Cosmo-esque wisdom, let me offer a little advice.
1.) UNLESS YOU SEE A SMALL PERSON EMERGING FROM MY VAGINA, DO NOT ASK ME HOW FAR ALONG I AM
I thought it was just me and my belly and build, but I have now heard from several girlfriends that a certain shirt, a lil menstrual bloating, even a large meal has warranted the "How far along are you?" question from a complete stranger. Bad move boys.
As I worked a concert at the VIP bar this Fall, we were given shirts to wear. Now, no secret, I am 5'10 and have a "thick"(see how I did that boys?) build. Without fail, even this week at a new job, someone always tries to hand me a medium size shirt. The concert was no different. As I explained to the man in charge, their shirts were not fashioned for my physique. He offered that I could leave my tank top on and just tie the shirt above my belly. Great plan. It was like taking cheap cotton and sculpting a frame for fat. It was stunning. I knew it, but my boss was convinced that uniform, even in such flattering forms of styling, was the way to go.
An hour into the show, an old regular shows up at my bar. Hadn't seen him in a few years. After thirty seconds of "wow! Been awhile" and "how ya been?" he congratulates me on the impending arrival. I thanked him and told him I was not in fact pregnant, but had just gotten a tad more portly like himself. As he quickly apologized and turned red, I told him he should be, unbuttoned the shirt and threw it at my boss and told him to order some larger shirts or pay for my therapy. Now, all the while, as my self esteem curls up in a ball and hides, I want to stab this guy in the face. The Lesson? Doing this makes girls want to stab you in the face. Nuff said.
2.) AGE IS NOT JUST A NUMBER
Aw, the reason for this blog in the first place. New Year's 2008. I looked hot. Fresh off losing 20lbs and hot rolling the hair, eyes sculpted in my most expensive of MAC colors, and the ever so flattering black on black outfit, I was feelin sexy. Now, I am 31, and I am cool with it. I can still get away with my mid to late twenties thanks to a combo of good genes, fish oil, and Mario Badescu, but I do not hide my age. I compete willingly in a field where 25 is old, and my friends from school cannot get into my places of employment. I like the fact that I am still rockin it but get to be hot WITH the wisdom that comes with age. I am totally fine with my age.........but I do not like to be told I look 31 by you. or worse, older.
So, the beginning of the party, only a half hour or so in, I was making small talk with a guest. This was my first private house party I had gotten to contract. I was amped. I was tending bar and had hired on my good friend Kram to serve as the cocktail waitress. She is 28, tiny, and young in appearance. 28. So, Drunky Drunkerson asked me how I knew the hosts, and then proceeded to ask me if "the young lady working with me was my daughter". This had a similar effect as to walking up and hitting me in my non-pregnant gut. "Uh, no." I think he caught up quite quickly because he swiftly beckoned another party goer over to chat. I did. I felt crushed. I half wanted to laugh, as I would had this been done to one of my friends, but I also wanted to cry. Good job dude. Filter. (But I do have to thank Kram for such great jokes as picking up one of the many disposable cameras placed throughout the house, offering to take a pic of us, and saying, "you know, like a mommy and me photo op!" You suck. ---but that was good)
So, let me help ya guys, guessing or "dating" a woman's age, bad idea. Bottom line, never guess over 28. Crows feet, grey hair, ........an oxygen tank and senior living center I.D.? 28. And, if it is in the 20's you truly estimate the correct age, knock 3 years off that guess. Why? Because chicks like that. And making us happy is just, well, quite frankly it is just alot easier than pissing us off. For you.
3.) THOU SHALL BE CAREFUL WHEN ANALYZING THY GIRLFRIEND, WIFE, ETC.
So, say you have made it through enough filter situations to land a steady someone. Congratulations! Now, I am gonna give you credit that you do know that if I ask if I look fat, you know, without pause or hesitation to ponder, the answer is no. I can voice that I am fat every day. You may not. Ever. Doing so can only book your ticket to the island of Younogettalaid. It is a sad and lonely island. And, the return ticket can remain open ended for unannounced increments of time. Pack a book. (or some bookmarked broadband porn.)
But that one should be simple. The trickier one here is in the analysis of relationships past. Yes, at some point, we as women have been in a very bad relationship. Maybe more. We know this. You explaining it is only fuel for a fire. BUT, BY NO MEANS SHOULD YOU EVER point out that you think we are weak with men. Simple statement, maybe correct, but very bad. All that you have guaranteed now is that I will never again back down in a fight. You have called me out as this doormat, and now I will be forced to pull my ovaries down and show you how big my balls are when it comes to how I am treated. Remember those times that you messed up and did the cute little apology and she forgave you immediately? Not any more. Now that cute lil lettin it slide moment has been pinpointed as weakness, so it is Ultimate Fighting time, and we are ruthless in that cage. Some things are better left unsaid.
There. My offering of ways to start the 2008. My rant. If you do happen to commit one of these offenses, just back away quickly. Trying to justify your observation? Worse. Just accept that these things are very bad. We do the same. I have been with the guy who is less than well-endowed for instance. I could not say it to him though. I had to live in the fact that he knew all on his own. I could not make it endearing by lovingly calling him "baby dick". I cannot run into a guy I haven't seen in years and say excitedly, "Congratulations on getting so fat!" I cannot approach the 24 yr old who has prematurely grayed and say he looks 50. I use my filter. It works out nicely.
That line though, the "maybe I shouldn't....." disclaimer, well, that is a preface that speaks for itself. That is the lovely filter between the brain and the voice box which is quietly sending messages from synapse to synapse screaming, "Shut up!!!" It is a signal that should be embraced and heeded. Nothing good can come of speaking before you think.
Oddly, I have been able to enjoy some lovely moments of late due to that filtration system breaking down, apparently because having a penis somehow weakens the whole system. I know, this is gonna be a tad anti-male. Make no mistake, I love you guys, but the filter......c'mon! So, in my Cosmo-esque wisdom, let me offer a little advice.
1.) UNLESS YOU SEE A SMALL PERSON EMERGING FROM MY VAGINA, DO NOT ASK ME HOW FAR ALONG I AM
I thought it was just me and my belly and build, but I have now heard from several girlfriends that a certain shirt, a lil menstrual bloating, even a large meal has warranted the "How far along are you?" question from a complete stranger. Bad move boys.
As I worked a concert at the VIP bar this Fall, we were given shirts to wear. Now, no secret, I am 5'10 and have a "thick"(see how I did that boys?) build. Without fail, even this week at a new job, someone always tries to hand me a medium size shirt. The concert was no different. As I explained to the man in charge, their shirts were not fashioned for my physique. He offered that I could leave my tank top on and just tie the shirt above my belly. Great plan. It was like taking cheap cotton and sculpting a frame for fat. It was stunning. I knew it, but my boss was convinced that uniform, even in such flattering forms of styling, was the way to go.
An hour into the show, an old regular shows up at my bar. Hadn't seen him in a few years. After thirty seconds of "wow! Been awhile" and "how ya been?" he congratulates me on the impending arrival. I thanked him and told him I was not in fact pregnant, but had just gotten a tad more portly like himself. As he quickly apologized and turned red, I told him he should be, unbuttoned the shirt and threw it at my boss and told him to order some larger shirts or pay for my therapy. Now, all the while, as my self esteem curls up in a ball and hides, I want to stab this guy in the face. The Lesson? Doing this makes girls want to stab you in the face. Nuff said.
2.) AGE IS NOT JUST A NUMBER
Aw, the reason for this blog in the first place. New Year's 2008. I looked hot. Fresh off losing 20lbs and hot rolling the hair, eyes sculpted in my most expensive of MAC colors, and the ever so flattering black on black outfit, I was feelin sexy. Now, I am 31, and I am cool with it. I can still get away with my mid to late twenties thanks to a combo of good genes, fish oil, and Mario Badescu, but I do not hide my age. I compete willingly in a field where 25 is old, and my friends from school cannot get into my places of employment. I like the fact that I am still rockin it but get to be hot WITH the wisdom that comes with age. I am totally fine with my age.........but I do not like to be told I look 31 by you. or worse, older.
So, the beginning of the party, only a half hour or so in, I was making small talk with a guest. This was my first private house party I had gotten to contract. I was amped. I was tending bar and had hired on my good friend Kram to serve as the cocktail waitress. She is 28, tiny, and young in appearance. 28. So, Drunky Drunkerson asked me how I knew the hosts, and then proceeded to ask me if "the young lady working with me was my daughter". This had a similar effect as to walking up and hitting me in my non-pregnant gut. "Uh, no." I think he caught up quite quickly because he swiftly beckoned another party goer over to chat. I did. I felt crushed. I half wanted to laugh, as I would had this been done to one of my friends, but I also wanted to cry. Good job dude. Filter. (But I do have to thank Kram for such great jokes as picking up one of the many disposable cameras placed throughout the house, offering to take a pic of us, and saying, "you know, like a mommy and me photo op!" You suck. ---but that was good)
So, let me help ya guys, guessing or "dating" a woman's age, bad idea. Bottom line, never guess over 28. Crows feet, grey hair, ........an oxygen tank and senior living center I.D.? 28. And, if it is in the 20's you truly estimate the correct age, knock 3 years off that guess. Why? Because chicks like that. And making us happy is just, well, quite frankly it is just alot easier than pissing us off. For you.
3.) THOU SHALL BE CAREFUL WHEN ANALYZING THY GIRLFRIEND, WIFE, ETC.
So, say you have made it through enough filter situations to land a steady someone. Congratulations! Now, I am gonna give you credit that you do know that if I ask if I look fat, you know, without pause or hesitation to ponder, the answer is no. I can voice that I am fat every day. You may not. Ever. Doing so can only book your ticket to the island of Younogettalaid. It is a sad and lonely island. And, the return ticket can remain open ended for unannounced increments of time. Pack a book. (or some bookmarked broadband porn.)
But that one should be simple. The trickier one here is in the analysis of relationships past. Yes, at some point, we as women have been in a very bad relationship. Maybe more. We know this. You explaining it is only fuel for a fire. BUT, BY NO MEANS SHOULD YOU EVER point out that you think we are weak with men. Simple statement, maybe correct, but very bad. All that you have guaranteed now is that I will never again back down in a fight. You have called me out as this doormat, and now I will be forced to pull my ovaries down and show you how big my balls are when it comes to how I am treated. Remember those times that you messed up and did the cute little apology and she forgave you immediately? Not any more. Now that cute lil lettin it slide moment has been pinpointed as weakness, so it is Ultimate Fighting time, and we are ruthless in that cage. Some things are better left unsaid.
There. My offering of ways to start the 2008. My rant. If you do happen to commit one of these offenses, just back away quickly. Trying to justify your observation? Worse. Just accept that these things are very bad. We do the same. I have been with the guy who is less than well-endowed for instance. I could not say it to him though. I had to live in the fact that he knew all on his own. I could not make it endearing by lovingly calling him "baby dick". I cannot run into a guy I haven't seen in years and say excitedly, "Congratulations on getting so fat!" I cannot approach the 24 yr old who has prematurely grayed and say he looks 50. I use my filter. It works out nicely.
posted by Dejenerate @ 1:53 AM
1 Comments:
At 4:28 AM,
Bootney's Misguided Life said…
You are right. I wish i could take back some of the things that I have said. I do take them back. I wish i could erase them from memory.
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