Thursday, December 30, 2010

To do or not to do

"I do think New Year's resolutions can't technically be expected to begin on New Year's Day, don't you?  Since, because it's an extension of New Year's Eve, smokers are already on a smoking roll and cannot be expected to stop abruptly on the stroke of midnight with so much nicotine in the system.  Also dieting on New Year's Day isn't a good idea as you can't eat rationally but really need to be free to consume whatever is necessary, moment by moment, in order to ease your hangover.  I think it would be much more sensible if resolutions began generally on January the second. "     ~ Bridget Jones's Diary


Believe in them or not, resolutions are fun to make.  Even when they start on January 2nd and end January 3rd.  So, let's hear 'em.  

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

2010 Resolutions Report Card: Fenella

I'm not all that into resolutions so this could be interesting...

I will...

- Visit Violet
I think I'm off to a flying start! Vi and I were reunited this year for an amazing 10day reunion complete with some McNerdy love, a roadtrip and someone thinking we were lesbians. A++

- Follow 'The Four Man Plan' (sub resolution- read 'The Four Man Plan'. It's on my nightstand).
I have yet to read 'The Four Man Plan' so obviously haven't come close to following it. And am now with the White Horse who probably wouldn't be too happy if I started following it. Before the White Horse I did attempt the whole Mr Right Now thing, with catastrophic results. I don't know who I'm trying to convince here. D

- Embark on some form of exercise, form TBC.
Check! I joined my work softball team. Oh and did I mention I ran a half-marathon this year? A+

- Get up 20 minutes earlier to improve on my current beauty routine of mascara and lipgloss.
Have definitely made an effort with this although this has gone slightly downhill since meeting the White Horse; I sometimes do my make-up in the bathroom in the morning at work. Classy. B-

- Cook (sub resolution- learn how to).
Fail. Fail. Fail. I still don't cook, I still can't be bothered with cooking. Thought I had solved this problem because the White Horse cooks for me except I got a bit of a talking to today about my lack of cooking and his always cooking. Oops. Fail. F

I will not...

- Read too much into the situation with Welsh Willy (or other). Instead will enjoy fun evenings for what they are, rather than hope something more will come of it.
Ah Welsh Willy. How a lot can change in a year. Not really sure on this one as the whole Welsh Willy thing swiftly ended. Um, C?

- Keep telling myself that I'm rubbish at my job and quake inwardly whenever my boss asks me to do something.
Well I got promoted this year so I must be doing something right. A

- Leave my make-up on when I go to bed as results in IES (icky eye syndrome).
Doing much better at this. B+

- Eat toast for dinner (more than twice a week).
Thanks to the White Horse and his cooking skills I'm doing very well at this one. B

- Drunk dial or drunk text. Anyone. Drunk dialing/texting reeks of desperation. Will be cool aloof ice queen instead.
I think I did drunk text Welsh Willy. I think. Let's say C

Final GPA: Haven't got a clue, that's American and I don't know what's a good GPA and what isn't. B+??

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

How to Find a Husband: Part IV

This is the fourth in a multi-part series on How to Find a Husband. This is for entertainment purposes only, and is a tongue-in-cheek criticism of smug marrieds as well as desperate attempts to become smug marrieds. The authors, Grayer and Violet, firmly believe that no one NEEDS a husband to make them complete, but if they want one, the best way to find one is to just be yourself.

Step 4: Be his mother.

Not to be all Freudian on you, but if there's one woman a man can love, it's his mother. It doesn't matter if she's the single most vial creature on earth. If you want a mother-in-law you have to channel that vialness.

Please note: If you're trying to marry a man that has murdered his mother (no judgement here, a husband is a husband!), please disregard this how-to guide.

1. The Scent of a Woman
Scents evoke many memories. Hopefully in his case, happy nesting-proposals-procreating-monogamy memories of his family. Find out what kind of perfume his mother wears. You don't have to find an exact replica, just match the scent "family". If she wears floral, find a floral perfume. She prefers citrusy scents, then so do you. She's a hippie? Then you dig patchouli. Whatever that is. Be careful not to choose his grandmother's scent. You have to give off "natural" pheromones of young fertility, not the elderly scent of a woman who wears a wig and still kisses him square on the lips.

2. If she's a high maintenance bitch, you're a high maintenance bitch.
If a man grew up being treated badly by the Woman in his life, he's going to expect to always be treated badly by the Woman in his life forever. This means you'll be wearing the pants in the relationship. You can even pick out his clothes, and demand that he buy you closets full of designer duds for yourself. Think of Charlotte and Trey in Sex and the City. (Charlotte used Bunny MacDougal's manipulative ways to get him down the aisle. Hmmm... that wouldn't have anything to do with his inability to rise to the occasion, would it?)
On the other hand, if his mother is Mother Theresa, you're going to have to roll up your sleeves and do some serious volunteer work. And donate all your money to needy children. Or the hardest thing of all, actually be nice to him. Hey we didn't say finding a husband was easy!

3. If she wears blue eye shadow up to her brows, so do you.
It's weird to think about, but we swear men not only like a woman who acts (i.e. controls him) like his mother but also has similar looks. If his mother is a natural low maintenance beauty, then he has a deep appreciation for fresh faced young ladies. If she spends two hours getting ready just to go to the grocery store, then you best be getting used to primping, priming, and plucking every morning, just to go to the gym. If she always wears heels, get used to not being able to feel your feet.
If she has big hair, then break out the teasing comb and volumizing spray. I think you get the idea.

4. Talk the Talk.
Mama or Mum, mothers always know best. If she's southern, work on saying "y'all" and slow... down... when you speak. If she's from New England, make sure you start saying "wicked" and stop pronouncing your R's. If she's British, be sure you'd like a "spot" of tea, and scream "BLOODY HELL!" whenever you're angry. Trust us.

And there you have it. Become his mother, become his wife. It's that simple. Trust us.

Next up: Part V- Eat your way to a ring.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Merry, Happy

Merry Christmas friends!!

We hope that these past couple days have been filled with gawdiness (can you say, light-up inflatable lawn ornaments?), gluttony (I'm on my second food coma of the day), and glee.  Violet and I are currently watching our parents play Wii.  Yes, that's right, for the first time ever, the Bickerstaffs own a gaming system and it's not for us kids, its for our parents.  Our day has been spent being ridiculously competitive at virtual Resorts Sports with the parentals still figuring out how to hold the controllers, and still marveling at how similar they look to their Mii. 

Since we've been home, I've taken some time to go through the Christmas newsletters they've collected this year.  Why people feel the need to write these from their pets perspective is a mystery.  Why people feel the need to strictly write about their pets is just downright baffling.  But it's not the animals that are bothersome, it's all the babies.

Mona and her husband had a baby boy on Thanksgiving day.  Mary Jane is expecting her second in January.  Maurice proposed to his college girlfriend this fall, the wedding is planned for this summer.  Our family is growing fast, it's hard to believe!  What are your girls up to? It doesn't seem like those girl scout days could have possibly been so long ago!

So this made me curious.  What are we up to?   Not in real life, of course, but in the annual family newsletter life.  So I did a little digging on the family dinosaur computer and found our letter.  It's complete with a family photo from Disneyworld (I swear the day I showed my mom how to add a picture into a word document was one of her best days ever).  The fact that our parents are using a picture of them and their late-twenty-something daughters at Disneyworld should tell you something: In the world of Christmas newsletters, Violet and I don't have much going on.

Violet is still in Atlanta and at the same job.  She's applying for grad schools for next fall, yada boring yada.  Grayer is now in Boston.  She works in a lab with various bacteria and a DNA machine. Both will be home for Christmas.

And that was it.  Not only did it tell us that all that matters (in the newsletter world) is what we do, but it also tells us that my parents don't know what I do (what the hell is a DNA machine??).  Clearly our parents did not do as well at marrying off their daughters as their friends did.  But it's Christmas, and that means all that money they should be spending on son-in-laws and grandbabies, they're just spending on us.  Works for me.  

Thursday, December 23, 2010

2010 Resolutions Report Card: Grayer

As resolutions go, I couldn't get much worse than I did last year.  Here's my end of year report. 

I will...

-Get a Job. A real grownup full-time job that will allow me to pay bills and maybe even splurge on..cable. 
Check!  I've been working since March.  I have health insurance.  I pay income tax.  I am officially an adult, though, oddly enough, I still don't have cable.  A+

-Move somewhere Awesome to be at said job. I'm really looking forward to moving someplace new. Preferably someplace with cute boys. 
I moved to Boston.  It's pretty sweet. So are the boys.  A

- Meet people. Once in new place, I want to majorly meet people. To do this I vow to join Meetup groups and possibly even online date. I will be more social then ever before. 
I did meet people.  I even dated online.  Turns out the single friends I made turned out to be stupid smug singletons and the guy I met online turned out to be fuckwit.  But I made/am making an effort so hooray for me. A for effort.  D for quality work.

-Get more action. Same with Vi, this is our time, our time to LIVE. If I can remember the number of boys I make out with this year, I'll consider it a failure. 
So if I think about it enough I can remember the number of boys I've made out with, but all in all, it wasn't a bad year.  On the very down side, I let condoms expire.  Who does that?!?  C, I can only be disappointed in myself.

-Lose some weight. I realize this is a resolution cliche but grad school was not kind to me. I'm going to need to shed a few.  
I did lose a couple pounds.  Unfortunately I didn't do so until the last part of the year, but I did it.  B-

I will not...

-Have an imaginary/fictitious/mythical/pseudo relationship of any kind. I mean it this time. 
I'm very proud to say that once I ended my relationship with Conrad (the move helped), I haven't had any sorts of mythical relationships since.  Boo yeah.  B+ because it took me too long to just be friends with Conrad.

-Worry about guy/relationship but rather "go with the flow." If it's meant to be, it will be, no sense in worrying about it. 
I'd say I was awesome at this this year.  I was way more laid back about guys, and was much better at going with the flow, even when the flow didn't go my way.  A++

Cumulative GPA: 3.2  Winner of Most Improved.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

2010 Resolutions Report Card: Violet

It's time to look back at the resolutions we made and check up on the year's progress. I made really great progress in 2009, so I didn't make that many resolutions for 2010.

I will...
-Get more action. 2009 was a good action year for me, but it only let me wanting more. I'm still in my twenties. The time to have fun is NOW.

Thanks to the cute neighbor, this resolution was no problem. We have proven that you can have quantity AND quality. boo. yah. A++

-Continue to work on employment, so that I may actually have a disposable income.
Hmmm.... Well, I did have a second part-time job for the first half of the year. After that, my attempts to find an actual full-time job went nowhere, and I am basically right back where I started. Effort: A; Economy: D+; Average: C

I will not...
-Worry about the relationship. Instead of worrying about getting over the "three-month hump" or finding Mr. Right, I'm going to focus on Mr. Right Now. I hear that's more fun anyway.
In my attempt to find Mr. Right Now, I found a perfectly viable option for Mr. Right was right in front of me. I didn't worry about the three-month hump, and we've cleared that and then some, and have had some serious fun in the meantime. A

-Crochet anything for a man. Ever. And you all scoffed at my "silly little curse." Ha.

Haven't even picked up a crochet hook, for any purpose all year. The Hat of Doom was the last thing I made. The cute neighbor will not be getting any hats, scarves, or sweaters with his first initial crocheted into it from me any time soon. Or at all. A+

Final GPA: 3.8. Stupid economy.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Holiday Greetings! from the WWBD? family!

Dear Friends and Family,

Wow! Is it that time of year already? It seems like only yesterday we were writing last year's Christmas Newsletter, but 2010 sure has flown by! What a year it's been for the busy WWBD? family! The ladies have all stepped up their husband hunting now that Prince William is officially off the market!

The year got off to a great start with Grayer moving to Boston for her first, real, grown-up job! She lives in the city with me (Mr. Kitty Meowington) and a few lovely roommates. Over the summer, she went on a fabulous vacation to Costa Rica with her favorite sister, Violet. They had such a wonderful trip! They went zip-lining, relaxed on the beach, and saw volcanoes, and lizards, and monkeys, oh my! There were times when her love life got a little messy, but it was never anything Grayer couldn't handle on her own!

Fenella is living in London, and what a year she's had! Of course the highlight to her year was traveling back to the United States to see her bestest friend in the whole wide world, and her Person, Violet. They had such a wonderful 10 days together! They laughed, they salsa danced, they rode roller coasters, they even pushed each other into bathrooms. Fenella even got to know some of Violet's friends really, really well. Fen is also preparing to be a bridesmaid next year, but her We were all pleased as punch a few months later when our little Fen-Fen announced that she's found herself a Significant Other!

Violet is still living in Atlanta. Despite her spectacular talents and qualifications, she is still incredibly underemployed, so she decided to give nannying a try to make some extra cash. It did not end well. Violet's professional life may be non-existant, but she has managed to get herself a love life this year! It got off to a weird start for sure, but things started to change when her very cute neighbor became more than just a neighbor.

As for me, Mr. Kitty Meowington, I've had a very busy year of waking Grayer up at 4am and chasing my tail. I really think 2011 is the year I'll finally catch it!

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!



Love,

Grayer, Fenella, and Violet

(and Mr. Kitty Meowington)

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Plus No-one AGAIN



Last year, I wrote about my lack of a Plus One. This year, however, I have an ACTUAL boyfriend and all, so everything should be hunky dory, right? Wrong. My ACTUAL boyfriend is out of town. So I will yet again be attending my office Christmas party solo. I mean seriously, what is the point of having an actual boyfriend if he's going to be out of town for the two weeks leading up to Christmas, leaving me Plus One-less yet again? Grrr.

This year's office Christmas party invite was particularly obnoxious about the whole thing also. There was a sign-up sheet with a column for your name if you'll be attending, and next to it a column that said, "Spouse (yes or no)." Why only a "spouse"? Why not "significant other"? Or better yet, "guest"? I was feeling particularly cheeky and smart ass, so under the spouse column, I wrote "No thanks."

Don't worry, I won't be giving a drunken solo at the party. Actually, if the party were going to include drunken karaoke, I might actually be looking forward to it, but I'm pretty sure it's going to be super-lame, and have been trying to come up with an excuse not to go for weeks now. Unfortunately, it's important to stay on the boss's good side, and this is a good way to do that. I can, however, look forward to New Year's Eve, when I will actually have a date for the first time in... well, let's not think about that.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

How to Find a Husband: Part III

This is the third in a multi-part series on How to Find a Husband. This is for entertainment purposes only, and is a tongue-in-cheek criticism of smug marrieds as well as desperate attempts to become smug marrieds. The authors, Grayer and Violet, firmly believe that no one NEEDS a husband to make them complete, but if they want one, the best way to find one is to just be yourself.


Step 3: Play Dumb


"So dumb guys go for dumb girls and smart guys go for dumb girls? So what do the smart girls get?"
"Cats, mostly"--Modern Family


In a completely made up statistic, we have found that the chances of a woman marrying drops 23% with each degree obtained. Want to know why? It makes you seem smart, but even worse, it reduces your dating pool by requiring a man of equal or greater degree value. As if the pickings weren't slim enough! That's right, delete that grad school application, stop studying for those GREs but don't you dare drop out of college. College is where you'll find the most important credential of all.

Obtaining your MRS degree (Bachelor's)
Since colleges these days insist on one having an actual major, here are a few things to think about before declaring:

Acceptable Majors:
Hospitality/Culinary Studies: Think of it as training for your future as a doting wife. Men certainly will as you take away that perfectly folded fan napkin and replace it with a prime rib.
English: It appears men do not mind if their wives can read so this is acceptable. Sure, you'll be able to quote Shakespeare at a dinner party, but please don't read anything more advanced than Stephenie Meyer in front of him.
Geography: What kind of job can you get with a geography major? Who cares!? You'll be able to plan international vacations like a pro (it helps when you actually know where countries are!). Just remember, if he doesn't know what the capital of France is, neither do you *wink*.
Sports Management: No one really knows what this major entails but it's full of student-athletes, is therefore easy, and if given the opportunity, you should always marry an athlete (it means your babies won't be fat, or if they are fat, they can at least play football).

Non-acceptable Majors
Women's Studies: No men will be in your classes, except for the few that are dumb enough to think that "the study of women" will involve nudity and/or get them laid. The men not in your classes will assume you are a lesbian.
Life Sciences: You may think going into a field historically full of men will put odds in your favor but you'd be wrong. Women are making a run for it (until they get married/knocked up anyways) and the male scientists don't really count as men due to their pasty white skin and man boobs, but hey, a husband is a husband. In any case, majoring in any form of science will make you appear to be intelligent and that's the opposite goal of college. Just take it from Grayer, the single scientist/cat owner.

Obtaining your Masters degree
There is only one reason for continuing on with education (don't you dare say to further your career!) and that's to find a husband. Women who go on to get a masters are doing so because A. They spent too much time studying to focus on men or B. Because their long-term boyfriend decided he didn't want to get married and broke up with them halfway through their senior year. Either way, a girl getting her masters is getting her second chance at love. (What she should really be doing is getting a second bachelor's degree, or an associates degree (either of which only drops her chances by 16%) but we'll just roll our eyes and move on).
There's still hope for a masters.  Attending grad school straight out of college will allow you to still be around undergrads without seeming like a washed-out creeper. You still have potential to meet Mr. Good Enough To Marry at the library, at a frat party, or as a student in the class that you're TAing. Continuing on with education also gives you a great excuse for not having a job/not knowing what you want to do with your life. As soon as you do meet him, drop out immediately. Grad school is not worth the torture/humiliation/self-loathing if you already have a man. And if you don't meet a man and accidentally graduate? Yeah, you're pretty much screwed. Just ask Grayer, the perpetually single Master of Science, who just recently completed a crocheted cat sweater.

Obtaining your PhD
At this point we just don't know what you're thinking. You "career girls" have got a mind of your own. Don't you realize that now you have to find a PhD candidate to marry you?! As if those are just all over the place! If you do find one, he probably won't marry you until you have both graduated. Don't you realize how long it takes to get a PhD?! You might not get married until you're...(Gasp!)..30 or something!



Other ways to Play Dumb

  • Members of the Grammar Police are Single

Never EVER correct a man’s grammar. As much as it may hurt to let that “good” instead of “well” slide, or “who” when it should be “whom,” grammar police are just not sexy. Imagine this: you are in the midst of a rather passionate moment, and he asks you, “Who do you love?” And you reply, “Actually, it’s Whom do you love?” Yeah, you’ll soon have a dangling participle on your hands. How quickly can you use coitus interruptus in a sentence? However, feel free to take out the red pen after you have that ring.

  • Politics

Always, always, always agree with his politics, even if he is a granola eating liberal and you are a gun-toting member of the NRA (or vice versa). This is the purpose of the secret ballot. So that you can vote for the candidate of your choice, no matter what you tell your boyfriend. Beware, this won’t make life easy after you’re finally married, but it will get you down the aisle (and that is the ultimate happiness, right?)

  • Go Blonde- literally AND figuratively

Think Jessica Simpson on Newlyweds. Remember when she was confused about Chicken of the Sea tuna? Or when she thought she was actually eating buffalo when she had Buffalo wings? Yes, we know she and Nick Lachey went splitsville years ago, but she was MARRIED, wasn't she? Not only that, but she's about to be married again! And what's better than being married once? Being married twice, obviously. So visit your local salon or the hair care aisle of your favorite drug store, reach for the platinum, and let that color kill away those brain cells.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Let's be rational

So now that I'm no longer in a (slightly) drunken rage, it would be a good time to re-evaluate the Fuckwittage of Jonny Damon.  It's been a week, and fear not friends, I'm ok.  Sure I still think about it, and yeah I still get kinda bummed at times, and no, I haven't really eaten much at all this week, and yeah I have gotten drunk a few times,  but I am OK.  For real.  I've already made some crucial steps that tell me I may not be over it, but I am over him (or at least I'm well on my way).    

  • Unfriended on Facebook. After I deleted his fuckwitting Facebook message, I unfriended him.  Not because I hate him, but I don't want him showing up on my newsfeed every other day.  I particularly don't want to see that he's "In a relationship" next week and although that would seem fast,  if there's something we've learned from fuckwitts it's to never underestimate their inherent fuckwitting ability (yes, you can quote me on that).
  • Figured out what actually happened.  In his final message he made a lot of "I" statements ('I just can't do this right now') but what he was really saying was "I'm just not that into you".  It had nothing to do with timing or whatever the hell else he blamed it on.  He's just not that into me, plain and simple.  And the thing is, that's ok.  I know I'm not the average girl, I'm not everyone's cup of tea, I get it and I'm ok with it.  
  • Having the fantasy.  No, not that he'll suddenly change his mind and declare his love.   The other fantasy that every girl has.  Running into the man that wronged her several months later.  I, of course, will look glamorous, skinnier, prettier, and happier than ever, with a taller, darker, handsomer (not to mention better endowed and fuller hair) man by my side.  He will look like he lost a little weight (due to the perpetual diarrhea I cursed him with) but his hairline will have receded and there's sadness in his eyes as we have a polite conversation in which he regrets ever saying goodbye.  (In reality, in the slim chance I ever would run into him I would, of course, be wearing sweats, with crazy unwashed hair, eating a doughnut all alone.  Life never happens the way I want it to).     
  • Giving the silent treatment.  I've been drunk a few times this week (for good reasons, I swear) and I haven't drunk texted/called him once! Hoorah!  I did hear from him the other day, "Hey Grayer, I know you probably don't want to hear from me but can I have your address, so I can send you your movie."  Well yeah, you better send me my movie and shut the hell up, I'll decide if I want to hear from you or not.  Ass.  I told him to stop being so dramatic (and also stop assuming I'm sulking/hating).  As for that dvd, I'll believe it when I see it. 
  • The realization.  I've realized why I'm disappointed.   It's not him.  He's just made me realize in this whole crazy ordeal that I might actually want an actual boyfriend.  There I said it.  I didn't get on OkCupid to find a boyfriend, I got on OkCupid to date (and to save this blog).  But maybe I don't want to just date, maybe I just don't want to be alone anymore.  That's a big revelation.  Although I would have gladly called that kid my boyfriend (he's still really, really cute) I'm glad it didn't come to that, it could have taken me months to figure out that he was a fuckwit.  And he is, by all means, a fuckwit.  

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

The return of Fuckwittage

(Disclaimer: Not going to lie, I basically drank a bottle of wine as my dinner tonight, for good reason. However, if the dropping of F-bombs as if it were World War III, offends you, you needn't read this post).

Mother. Fucker.

It's my word of the day.  Go on, say it aloud.  It will make you feel better.  It's really the only thing you can say when dealing with first class fuckwittage.   I had a Facebook message from Jonny Damon this morning.  He never sends me messages.  Mother. Fucker.  Jonny Damon was breaking up with me via a Fucking Facebook message.  Mother. Fucker. 

We'd only been dating for a month and a half, maybe it wasn't that bad of a protocol to end it that way.  But wait, let me explain.  An hour after I left his house, he sent me a fucking facebook message to end things with me. Two hours after he made me breakfast and kissed me goodbye, he sent me a fucking facebook message to end things with me.  Three hours after we woke up and laid in bed talking, 12 hours after we had sex, 14 hours after we snuggled on the couch watching a Christmas movie, he fucking sent me a fucking facebook message to end things with me.  What. the. fuck.

You know the great thing about being dumped via Fucking Facebook? You get to reread the message several times, have all those feelings over again, and then copy and paste into a blog meant to bash the fuckwit.  The subject line is "Hi" because really, what else could it be?  

Grayer,

I know this is not the best way to handle this situation, but  I've had a lot of fun with you and think you are an amazing person, but I don't want to hurt you if things get more serious; which I feel is starting to happen.  I just don't think that it is the best thing for me right now. I hate having to do this, but I've been in situations where I would have rather somebody told me earlier than to keep something going that wasn't meant to be. No matter what I write I know you will hate this and probably hate me, and I am sorry, but I just don't think I can do this right now. I'll miss you Grayer and I hope you have a great Christmas with your family.

Jonny Damon

See?  Isn't he an asshole?  Ok, maybe he doesn't exactly sound like an asshole out of context but please remember that I had just been with him an hour earlier, and he said nothing.  Everything was fine and fucking dandy.  So that's why the first and foremost feeling I was having was fucking rage.  And really just wanted to send this back.


Subject:  Hi? Asshole.

Jonny Damon,
Fuck you.  You MotherFucker.  Why couldn't you grow a pair and tell this to my face? I was just with you. Think of all the moments that you could have brought this up.  You had no problem being around me.  You had no problem sleeping with me.  You're a dick.  You're starting to feel like this is getting serious?  I see you once a week!  You're the one that invited me to a fucking wedding and introduced me to friends! And don't say you just can't do this right now, because you knew exactly what you were doing.  And, you had to do this on the one time that I ever left something at your house.  I want my fucking dvd back.  If your plan was to make me so mad that I wouldn't be sad, congratulations, you did it.  May you be cursed with bad karma and perpetual diarrhea.

Grayer

No, I didn't send this.  I just sat staring.  Tried to do work, just kept staring.  I eventually texted him.  It was cool, it was casual, it was "Seriously? You couldn't have told me that this morning?"  Ok, it may have also eluded to his lack of balls.  We had a brief conversation in which he apologized profusely, said he was awful at confrontation, felt bad for me driving to his place, yada fucking yada.  After I stopped being so pissed about it (ok, I'm still kind of/really pissed about it),  I just kind of had to laugh.  Who the fuck gets dumped via a fucking facebook message.  The subject was 'Hi' for fuck's sake.   I was just starting my day at work and I get dumped.  Via Fucking Facebook.  At least he didn't post it on my wall...

Once I chilled out a bit I sent him a final message:  "I don't disagree with what you said.  I disagree with how you said it.  Don't be that guy.  You could have told me."  I was very proud of myself for being so eloquent.  I didn't ask him why, I didn't try to change his mind.  He did the right thing, I just didn't like the way he did it.  When it comes down to it, once I stopped being so pissed, I'm really just sad.  I liked him.  I liked him a lot, and clearly he did not feel the same way.  And that sucks.  He sucks.  Dating fucking sucks.  Mother. Fucker.

Monday, December 6, 2010

And the Excellent Boyfriend Award goes to....

If I were a different kind of girl, my facebook status would read something like this:

Violet J. Bickerstaff is so lucky to have such a wonderful boyfriend to take care of her when she's sick. Thanks baby!

Luckily, I'm not that kind of girl. Instead, I'll just go to my blog so to properly detail how awesome my boyfriend was to me when I caught the Peruvian Death Flu over the weekend.

There were no signs that I would spend the weekend on the couch/in front of the toilet puking my guts out. I felt fine when I went out Friday night to meet the cute neighbor and his co-workers for Happy Hour that evening. I was looking forward to an evening out, followed by Friday Night Action, and was quite enjoying myself during my first beer. But before I ordered a second, I decided to wait a few minutes. Something wasn't quite right. A mere 2 hours after I arrived, I felt like I might die. My throat hurt, and I had that awful, achy feeling all over that is never a good sign. As much as I hated to be the first lame-o to leave, I knew I needed to go home, put on my flannel pajama pants, and curl up on the couch with some soup.

I told the cute neighbor (who was probably on his 4th or 5th beer and definitely did not want to go home yet) that I felt like death and needed to go home. He offered to go to the grocery store for me and pick up some chicken noodle soup and crackers. I took him up on the offer. After I got home, had changed clothes, and was huddling under blankets on the couch, I got much, much worse. The kind of sick that makes you cry because you feel so awful and just hurt all over. Not good. It was after the cute neighbor arrived and was making me soup that the vomiting began. And after I had maybe 4 bites of soup, it continued. (Oh, how I wish he'd never heard me throw up, but sadly, this isn't the first time. Note to all: Never let your drunk-on-her-ass roommate make your first beverage of the evening. It will be 75% vodka.) I basically begged him not to leave me alone for the night, and as unappealing as spending the night sharing a bed with a sickie must have sounded, he obliged.

In the morning he went to the store again for more soup, since I was starving, but didn't think I could handle anything more than that. He left me to my Harry Potter marathon on tv while he went home to get some work done, but checked up on me throughout the day to see if I needed anything. Later in the evening went back to the store AGAIN to get me smoothie-making supplies and spent his Saturday night on the couch with me watching tv. Then he stayed with me again. By Sunday morning, I was starting to feel like a real person again. I told him he was an excellent boyfriend and promised that if he ever gets sick (which I've never seen, just pesky allergies) I will be sure to take good care of him as well and even asked him if he wanted to make out with me, which he politely declined. (I've been careful not to kiss him, even though he's shared air space. Best not to risk it.)

Now that we have found another benefit to having an actual boyfriend, we can get back to our regularly-scheduled man-bashing. Grayer, I believe you have something to say on this issue?

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Facebook...again

There have been many conversations on this blog about the perils and pitfalls of Facebook. I have a few more to add to the list:

Being Facebook friends with people you work with
Some people have a real issue about this. They believe their work life and their personal life should be kept entirely separate and as part of this they refuse to be Facebook friends with work friends. Which is fair enough. I personally take a slightly more relaxed stance and am Facebook friends with some work friends. I do draw the line in some cases but I figure that many of the people that I work with are really good friend of mine, and as my Facebook page doesn't contain anything highly embarrassing and I'm not going to post a status update bitching about work which will result in getting fired, it's ok to be Facebook friends with work friends.

Or so I thought. A woman I work with (who is lovely, just a little intense) added me. I was torn. On the one hand I didn't really want to add her. On the other I knew for a fact that if I didn't add her she would come up to my desk and ask why I hadn't added her. So then I thought that I could add her but restrict what she could see. But then I realised that she would again come up to my desk and ask why she could only see my limited profile. So I gave in and accepted her friend request.

Big mistake. She comments on quite a few of my status updates. Pointlessly. She's a bit like a Facebook stalker who I have to see Monday - Friday. It got worse a couple weeks ago when she came up to my desk and said: "Ben Jones". I was confused for 10 seconds until I realised that she was talking about my friend from uni Ben Jones. My friend that she can only know about because of my Facebook page. She saw that he had commented on my page and came to my desk to tell me that she thought he was good looking. Weird. Then last week she told her manager about my update about the royal wedding:

"Fenella Middleton-Brown only cares about the royal wedding if we get a day off."

She told her manager. They had a conversation about my status update. I could hear this conversation. Seriously? This woman has crossed the line. I can't dump her though. She'll ask me why. Still, on the plus side, we do get a day off for the royal wedding.

Being Facebook friends with your parents' friends
I didn't mean for this to happen. Really I didn't. It was accidental. I swear. When I was in Peru I uploaded all my photos to Facebook and sent the link to my parents. This way they could see the photos even though they weren't on Facebook. Except for some reason the link that I sent meant that if people who weren't on Facebook decided to join Facebook through my link - they were automatically my friend. Which is how I became Facebook friends with my mother. And a few of my parents' friends. OK - I may have accepted some of their friend requests as well. And my godmother who I haven't seen since I was three. Then I felt bad if I dumped then. And most of them are fine and cause no trouble. But again, there's a couple that comment way too much and need to leave me alone. One of them wished me happy birthday and called me my family nickname that is only a family nickname. For no one else. I was furious.

I really should dump them all. But then my parents might be mad.

Adding your boyfriend on Facebook
I mentioned that the White Horse and I aren't Facebook friends - well now we are. It was a couple weeks ago and we were joking that our relationship wasn't official unless we were Facebook friends. I then pretended it was a big deal to accept his friend request, it was all very amusing. We also had The Conversation where we agreed that the whole:

"Fenella Middleton-Brown is in a relationship with The White Horse"

is unnecessary and silly. So we became Facebook friends. Which resulted in:
1.) Me suddenly realising that he may have a look at my photos and one of the first ones he would see is the one that Vi mentioned - the one of me and my ex-boyfriend looking very cozy 4 years ago that someone decided to tag. I hastily de-tagged myself. It sounds ridiculous but that wasn't the first photo of me I wanted him to see. I started thinking if there were any other photos I didn't want him to see. I then told myself I was being ridiculous.
2.) I kid you not, about 10 minutes after I accepted his requested by friend text me: "so you're finally Facebook friends!" Freaky.
3.) My mother has been stalking my boyfriend on Facebook. She insists it's not stalking as he hasn't made his photos private. I insist that it's stalking if you're not friends with each on Facebook.

I may regret this decision.

Facebook is a minefield.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Bring on the Turkey

The cute neighbor and I have survived our first major holiday together.

Things got off to a rocky start, as we found ourselves pulling off the highway nervously after hearing an ominous noise coming from my car not quite halfway into the trip. Sure enough, my car was broken and couldn't be fixed until the next day at the earliest. This is why God created rental cars, and we drove the rest of the way in a rented Nissan (rental car and all repairs were paid for by my normal mechanic who made a whopper of a mistake the previous day) and picked my car up on the way home.

Everything else went about as well as it could have, despite some potential awkwardness. First, the cute neighbor's grandma asked (while on speaker phone) if he and his brothers were planning on "having a triple wedding or something" since all of them are currently dating someone. Then, during the holiday game of pass the phone around, the cute neighbor's dad handed me the phone not once but TWICE to talk to his aunt and the aforementioned grandma respectively, who were both anxious to talk to the cute neighbor's "friend."

His mom had lots of little cute neighbor stories to tell me and I somehow managed to beat everyone in poker, although I'm still not sure how or why. (I don't really know how to play poker.) Things went so well, that I told him he was welcome to spend Christmas with my family, (obviously know he won't) despite my hesitations on inviting someone into the family circle.

Which reminds me: I really, really need to go ahead an book a flight home for Christmas...

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Bah Humbug!

I've just seen the Coca-Cola Christmas advert. It must be Christmas. Ugh.

Now, I'm not a Scrooge, I do actually quite like Christmas. Obviously not the insane commercialism of it, but the odd family traditions, the Christmas dinner and of course, presents.

Which leads me to my bah humbug! moment. Buying presents for boys. Or, more specifically, buying presents for boyfriends. I hate it. And it's expensive.

I just find buying presents for boys really, really difficult. What's irritating is that it's so much easier for guys to buy for girls. Mainly because the shops cater to girl presents so much more so, even if you're stuck on ideas the shops will probably help you out, thus making the lives of boyfriends the world over much, much easier. Namely because you can buy girls presents in the following categories:

- Jewellery. All guys would need to do is pay attention to what type of jewellery their girlfriend wears most often. For example, I never wear bracelets but always wear earrings. Simple. (Unless of course you're the cute neighbor as a certain Violet Bickerstaff isn't a jewellery fan.)
- Cute & Cuddly. Not to every girl's taste true enough. But if it is, the options are there. Especially at Christmas time. Cute teddy bears everywhere you look. Some say 'I Love You.' Awww....
- Sexy Underwear. It's a risky one. Especially as this would entail your boyfriend knowing your bra size. But if he's feeling brave and wants to look like a creepy man buying women's lingerie, again, endless opportunities.
- Bath Goodies. If guys are really stuck, bath goodies! They come in pretty colours and they smell lovely. Plus there's the added bonus of special Christmas gift sets. Result!
- Perfume. Like the sexy underwear guys need specialised knowledge for this one. Namely, what's your favourite perfume? But if they know that. Simple. Simple. Simple.

Now, what do us girls buy for guys? I. Don't. Know. Hence my bah humbug moment. I don't know what to buy the White Horse and there just doesn't seem to be the same amount of guy gifts out there. Guys get it easy.

As for the White Horse, I remain stumped. I could get him a football (soccer) shirt but I'm not really a fan of him wearing those. But if it comes to it...

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Moving right along

I know you've been wondering, what ever happened to that Jonny Damon chap?  Well, let me tell you friends.  I'm still seeing him, he's still awesome, and he is still soooooo cuuuute.  Things are moving right along. 

  • After our 3rd date I was getting concerned by our PG rating.  Sure, kissing is fun, but what does a girl have to do to get some roaming hands action?! I had wasted time sexfoliating for nothing.  Cue clever comment, "Yeah, but I'm only trying to get into your pants", which thanks to my fluent sarcasm, he doesn't know if I'm being serious or not.  (Hint: I was being serious.  And it worked).  Let me tell you, if you think he looks cute in broad daylight, you should see how hot he looks when he's on top of me, with minimal lighting and ruffled hair.  Mmmmmmm.  
  • He asked me to go to a wedding with him.  A wedding that's a month away!! Cue the silent panicking.  Ok, so yes, I'm a commitment phobe and no, I do not like to make plans with a boy in that far of advance.  But he needed to know if he should RSVP for one or two and he just kept looking at me with beautiful blue eyes while I silently freaked out but he was still looking at me with those damn eyes so I said I would.  I feel like this is a big deal.   Isn't it a big deal?  The wedding is an hour away, it has an open bar, and I have since found out that we're staying at the hotel that night (in our own room).  Isn't this a big deal??  I asked some friends, one of which responded, "So what? Do you want him to go with someone else?"  No.  I do not want that.  I figure that if we're not seeing each other in a month, it will be his problem not mine.  And if we are seeing each other in a month, then I get to get drunk for free and get in his pants.  Score.
  • I met a couple of his friends the other night.  Luckily only two, as I tend to get very quiet when meeting a large group of people.  But they were really good friends of his, one of which is a girl (the long time girlfriend of his long time best friend/roommate).  I was nervous to meet the girl, because I am a girl and I know how girls can be.  They tend to be very picky about the girls their guy friends date.  They don't just judge her by her personality but also her clothes and hair and whatever else she can possibly judge.  All we went though.  They were both cool, funny, and Jonny Damon didn't act any differently in front of them.  The girl even friended me on Facebook almost immediately.  I guess that means she doesn't hate me.  Win.
  • Last night I spent the night at his house.  This is the first time we've seen each other on a weekday, and I have to say, I liked it.  This morning he made me breakfast, and even though he dropped the toast on the floor, it was still an excellent start to a very long drive home for the holiday.  In those 7 hours I didn't think to brush my hair.  In the first 7 minutes I was home, my mother comments on the "rats nest" that is in my hair. That's what you get for getting in somebody's pants.  

Monday, November 22, 2010

Home for the Holidays

It's Thanksgiving week, one of my favorite weeks of the year. This year, I'll be going with the Cute Neighbor to his parents' house for Turkey Day. This is not so much a "we're so serious we want to spend every holiday" move so much as it's a "my parents live out of driving distance, but his don't and isn't that convenient" kind of move. I realize just how true this is when I think of the cute neighbor going to my parent's house for Christmas. Which he is absolutely not doing; that hasn't been discussed. In fact, I don't want the cute neighbor to come home with me for Christmas. Why? There are just some things that happen in the Bickerstaff household at the holidays that I'm not ready to share with him- or anyone- just yet. A few shining examples:

  1. The pre-church, family Christmas photo. Every year- and I do mean every year- before we head off to church on Christmas Eve, my mother forces us all into a family photo. She poses us in front of the Christmas tree (the main Christmas tree, not to be confused with the numerous, smaller, themed Christmas trees throughout the house) for a family photo. She sets the camera up on a pile of books on the coffee table, hits the timer, then makes a mad dash for the tree while we sit uncomfortably staring at the blinking camera. Everyone except Grayer, who thinks she's auditioning for America's Next Top Model and is too busy posing and making love to the camera to be uncomfortable. I don't know why, but the thought of the cute neighbor having to take this photo makes me cringe.
  2. Church on Christmas Eve. Every year, we must leave for Christmas Eve service an hour before the service actually begins. Why? Because my parents sing in the choir. This actually isn't so bad, as Grayer and I sit facing them and can make faces at them. Especially the year my mom was featured on the finger cymbals. That will never, ever stop being funny, but it is terribly dorky. It has, however, spawned my now-favorite Christmas tradition: the one in which Grayer and I play "Holiday Hangman" in the church bulletin to entertain ourselves before the service starts. And no, we don't use words like "mistletoe" or "Rudolph", we use phrases like "The glow of electric sex in the window" (A Christmas Story, obviously) and "The best way to spread Christmas cheer is to sing it loud for all to hear." But don't forget about after church! That's when we go to the house of my junior prom date to get our fill of awkwardness in, and where last year I had my very own "I carried a watermelon" moment when I stood in the entryway and announced that "I have a meat and cheese tray." Then, of course, we must drive around and look at Christmas lights.
  3. Holiday skyping. These days, we don't just call extended family on Christmas day, we skype them. That means we turn the camera on so they can see us and all our shiny new presents. Somehow, even after two years of using this technology, my mother cannot get over the fact that this technology actually exists, therefore, she never stops "smiling at the camera." It's exactly how I picture Bridget's mom would act if presented with a web cam.
  4. Holiday decorations on steroids. Like I alluded to in number 1, my mom goes completely bonkers when it comes to the holiday decorations. I've lost count of the number of Christmas trees she puts up. There's of course the main tree, but then we have an angel tree, a snowman tree, and a music tree. A new one seems to pop up every year. Then there's the lights. You could land planes in front of my parents' house. There are millions of them. (All white, of course!) The cute neighbor claims his mom is just as bad, but somehow, I just don't think that's possible.
Yes, these are all reasons not to bring the cute neighbor home with me for Christmas. But they are the same reasons I'll be home for Christmas. I don't want to miss out on all the fun.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

How to Find a Husband: Part II

This is the second in a multi-part series on How to Find a Husband. This is for entertainment purposes only, and is a tongue-in-cheek criticism of smug marrieds as well as desperate attempts to become smug marrieds. The authors, Grayer and Violet, firmly believe that no one NEEDS a husband to make them complete, but if they want one, the best way to find one is to just be yourself.


Step 2:
Pets and Hobbies: The Keys to Entrapment

Get a Cat.

One cat shows that you are caring, nurturing and responsible. Two or more cats says you’re crazy and alone.

PETS

Picture this: It’s a lovely, spring afternoon, and you’re off for a run/walk/stroll through the park. Walking down the path towards you is a very attractive male specimen with the most adorable labradoodle on his leash. Your first instinct is to run up to him and gush about how cute his puppy is while hoping it will lead to him asking for your phone number, but be warned: this could be a trick. Beware of men walking dogs (particularly small ones) in the park. Chances are, they are doing so to get your attention. The dog may not even be his. He could have borrowed it from his neighbor/sister/girlfriend for the sole purpose of picking up pretty ladies in the park.

How to tell if he is using a dog (or is just flat out gay)
  • The furry friend is wearing pink. Guys put girl dogs in dark purple or red. Girls put girl dogs in pink. So compliment the pink rhinestone collar and walk away, walk away fast.
  • No control. According to the dog whisperer bad dogs are not born, they are made. Or, they are caused by being taken hostage in order to attract ladies. If the dog's trying to get away from it's "daddy" so should you.
  • It has a better wardrobe than you. Unless it's in the single digits outside, men do not put their dogs in clothing. No vests, no sweater, no yellow raincoats with matching golashes.
  • It weighs under 20 lbs (excluding puppies). Straight men don't dream about a little dog to carry around in their murse.
  • The name game. A guy once introduced me to a dog name Dolce. Let me guess, his boyfriend/girlfriend's cat was named Gabbana...
Sound cynical? It is, but don’t worry. This canine trap works both ways. You could go to the same park every day for a month without anyone speaking to you, but once you add a dog to the equation, everyone, including the cute guy playing ultimate frisbee, will be saying hello.
Don’t have a dog? Borrow one. Ask your roommate, neighbor, friend, or weird guy across the street if they would mind if you took their pooch for a walk. Chances are, they’ll be happy to have someone else offer to walk the dog once in awhile, but if they think it’s a strange request, just tell them you’re thinking of getting one for yourself, but need to take one for a test spin.

What his pet says about him.

Finally, another way to judge a man, this time based on his preferences for animalistic companionship.

Dog This is a man’s man. (Assuming this pooch isn’t of the teacup variety). He seeks companionship yet likes to be in control. Let him play master.
Cat Although a slightly feminine choice, he probably has his reasons. A cat-owner is a nurturer yet appreciates self-sufficiency and an independent mind. He’ll treat you right if you keep your cling-on to a bare minimum.
Rodent A little on the quirky side, he can get past the associated stigmas and appreciate an animal, or a woman, for what it truly is. Mice are cute as long as they aren’t free to move about the cabin.
Bird Unless Polly repeats dirty words, we see no good reason a man would have a bird. You’re on your own with this one.
Snake Appreciates the exotic and enjoys appearing to be a bad ass. If the mice feedings are his favorite part, keep your distance.
Other reptiles It may have been cool at age 15 but not so much at 35. Make sure he’s not still living in his mom’s basement.
Giant insects Please refer to above, only add a creeper factor.
Fish A lot can be said by the condition of the tank. Let’s just say that things aren’t looking good if you can’t see the fish.


HOBBIES

Like pets, hobbies can create a good conversation point to at least get you started. Obtain hobbies, obtain a husband, it’s that simple.
You’re probably thinking “Woohoo! The perfect excuse to take that ballroom dancing/french pastry/decoupage class I’ve always wanted to!” To which we say, STOP RIGHT THERE! Do you really think you’re going to find a husband at a decoupage class? Not unless your dream man is also a member of Liza Minelli’s fan club and you’re willing to be celibate.
This is not about exploring your interests, there’s plenty of time to do that after you have a ring on your finger. Here are a few interests you can feign interest in if you aren’t interested in them already.

Church Ask anyone the question, “Where can I meet decent, single men?,” and the number one answer in the world is “church.” (This is a completely made up statistic, but it feels true.) It’s true. Go to church. At church, or any other place of worship, you will find husband material, provided they’re not already married. Grayer points out that she has never, not once, seen an attractive, single man in her age group at church. With that in mind, we refer back to Part 1. Receding hairline? Twenty years older divorcee with four children? A ring is a ring, ladies. Tick, tock, tick tock...
Not religious? Try all of them. Go to the synagogue on Saturday night, the Baptist church down the street Sunday morning. If anyone catches on to you, just tell them you’re seeking spiritual enlightenment and aren’t sure about where to start. Even better- then they’ll take the time to tell you about why theirs is the true path to redemption.
You are religious? What are you doing reading this? Shouldn’t you be married already?

Intramural sports Especially if you’re not the “sporty” type. This allows husband material to teach you, and in order to teach you, he needs to touch you.
Trust us on this one. We are a couple of “sporty” girls, and as a result we’ve never ever EVER received romantic attention on the field, since (and we don’t mean to brag) we already know how to play. All we get is an “atta girl” and a slap on the ass (and not the good kind).
If you’re looking for a meal ticket, you should definitely consider taking up golf and/or tennis. These are sports of the bourgeois. (If you really can’t be bothered to learn these sports, just throw on a pleated skirt and sip iced tea at the 19th hole. Claim an injury when he asks you to play with him, but offer to ride in the golf cart/sit on the sidelines and watch. Be sure to compare his swing/forehand to Tiger Woods/Pete Samprass.) The same could be said for horse racing, although not actually racing the horses. Just show up at the races; be sure to wear a very, very large hat, pearls, and white gloves.

Real sports Don't know the first thing about a real sport? No problem, you only need to know a couple of things to impress them, so stay tuned for Violet and Grayer's Everything a Lady Needs to Know About Sports.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Butt out

I've got a bone to pick with...well, just about everyone I've talked to in the last several weeks. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, is asking the million dollar question: What are you and the cute neighbor going to do when he moves? It's not always phrased like this, but that's the gist of it. And here's the answer: We don't know. And a follow-up question to you: Do we have to know right now?

The cute neighbor and I have been together for about 7 or 8 months, and while that is not an insignificant amount of time, I just don't feel like we have to have our future together completely mapped out. Then when I tell people I want to go to grad school, they assume I'm going to follow the cute neighbor to grad school. Um, no. Then when I say I want to go abroad to grad school, they say, "What does the cute neighbor think of this?" To which I'm always tempted to say "Who cares? The last time I checked, I didn't need his permission to do what it is that I need to do." But I refrain. I mean, I do care, because I care about him, obviously, but my point is I cannot revolve my future around anyone else but me at this point.

Let's say I follow him to wherever he goes. I enroll in grad school. We break up. I am left heartbroken and alone in a city where I don't know anyone and never really wanted to be in the first place. I will regret not doing my own thing for the rest of my life.

Let's say I follow him to wherever he goes. I enroll in grad school. We don't break up. Instead, we live happily ever after with 2 children, a dog, a cat, two goldfish, and a white picket fence. I will still regret not taking the opportunity to study at the school of my choice for the rest of my life.

If it was meant to be, one year apart won't ruin it. (However, open-ended long-distance will never, ever work if you want my advice.) If it wasn't, we'll both move on. Why does everyone need to put pressure on the relationship to last forever? Is it because I've now reached the ripe-old age of 28 that if it doesn't last forever it's a failure? I'm getting really sick of people putting pressure on our relationship. If we're not worried about it, then you shouldn't be either.

If I'm following anyone, it's Fenella, seeing as my current plan is to study in Europe. That, however, is not a problem. You see, boys will come and go. But Fen and I are forever.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Leave LiLo out of this!

Another great date with Jonny Damon this weekend including a brewery tour, him fixing my car (I asked him to take his shirt off but with it only being 50 degrees out, he declined) and watching horror movies on the couch.  Oh, and making out, a lot of making out.  Such great dates don't really make me want to meet more guys but I thought I would share this one with you.  Here are some snippets of OkCupid conversation from Mr. Grassroots.  His use of big words while sucking up to me really makes me want to date him *eyeroll.

Hey,
I was really captivated by your enthusiasm for biology. "Enthusiasm" in the sense that I mentioned I did research in Molecular biology. Most specifically, it's pretty noble that your accrued knowledge will be transferred to others through your fervor for teaching. Saying that I eventually wanted to teach with my "accrued knowledge" apparently indicated "fervor".

I'm really into politics, but no so much domestic affairs Yawn. I'm more into political theory, the roots of international crises, and security. Snore.  Sometimes it can be a lot to digest but it has really been enlightening, and has engendered in me a new perspective on the world. Wait what did he say about being engendered?

I had to break it to him straight out, I'm not into politics.  Especially not the theory of politics, because I don't really know what that means.  Oh, well I think I can get along with the fact you aren't particularly into politics. Good.  After all, it might prevent a few potential debates. True. Plus, it paves the way for something else to discuss, whatever that may be. Absolutely. Like Lindsay Lohan. Wait, What? I have never seen the show, Glee. I have heard so many things about it. Huh?


So this week, I'm pretty much filled with interviews, but you seem like such a nice genuine person, that I can't help but ask if you'd like to exchange phone numbers. ....What the fuck?

Now I know you are all thinking two things.  1.  What a condescending asshole! Just because one doesn't like politics doesn't mean one cannot hold an intelligent conversation, thus resorting to discussing if Lindsey Lohan is or is not in rehab/jail/Herbie Fully Loaded II.  and 2.  Please please please go on a date with this man!  I know, that's what I thought too.  So I responded, "Yeah! I love Glee!  My number is ..."  He texted me within two hours.

I had great plans of reading up on Star magazine to have several talking points over drinks with Mr. Grassroots, but I got cold feet.  Not because he seems like an ass, that would make a good story.  I got cold feet because I feel like he could easily be a serial killer.  Behind all those big words and political jargon, he seems really, really intense.  And somewhat crazy.  So I stopped responding to his texts.  Because in jail or not, not even Lindsey would date a serial killer.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Don't go digging...

Following on from Vi's post re: people's past relationships. 'Tis an interesting thing to ponder.

Unlike Vi and The Cute Neighbour, The White Horse is only two years older than me. So while I would put money on him having had more hook-ups than me, I figured we could very well be somewhat 'equal' when it came to the number of past relationships and lengths of said relationships. (Just in case you're wondering: I have two ex-boyfriends, longest relationship is a year. A very long year.)

Not so.

I don't need to know the intricate details of his past relationships / hook ups. I don't want to know them. I was simply a little curious to find out how long his longest relationship was. That's all. The opportunity presented itself when we were discussing his roommate and how his roommate would quite like a girlfriend (I may need to blog about that at some point). The White Horse was asking for my advice and I said that I required a little bit of background information before I gave my opinion. Namely:

1. When was his last relationship? (If ages ago, it would seem he is ready for something of the serious variety. If not so long ago, casual fling?)

2. How did his last relationship end? (Amicably? Serious variety. Ugly? Tread carefully and refer back to question 1. If ended ugly was it also recent?)

3. How long was his longest relationship? (If a few months, he may not be great at commitment, thus affecting the possibility of something serious).

Well didn't I shoot myself the foot with those theories? I figured this was an excellent time to ask The White Horse what his longest relationship was. Four months. And the way he said it made it seem like it wasn't really a relationship. Huh. So, according to my Einstein theory he would fall into the: 'not great at commitment' category.

Obviously this is me stereotyping to a huge degree. I get that. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with never having had a serious, long-term relationship. The thing that just freaked me out (a little) was that we are already half way to equalling his longest relationship. And after the four months, what happens? Do things just stay the way they are or do they start to progress?

I must say, he is showing excellent signs of being a great boyfriend:
- He bought me fancy chocolates for no reason (I'm not a fancy chocolate fan, but that's an aside).
- He bought me a trashy magazine when he went to the store, so I could read it while he cooked breakfast.

So I'm sure the four month thing is nothing to worry about.

What was funny though - it's another storyline straight from Friends. Think Phoebe crying and Ross pretending to be 'Vikram'.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

The Ex Factor

Not long ago, we posted a list of facebook fuckwittage, a list of 8 crimes committed against cyberspace. I think we should add another to that list: Do not post old pictures of your friends and their exes years after they have broken up. Or for that matter, don't post pictures of you and your ex years after you have broken up. Not one but two examples of this popped up on my newsfeed this week.

The first was Fenella, looking awfully cozy with a guy I did not recognize. At first I thought it was The White Horse, but when I clicked on the picture, not only did it not look like The White Horse, but it was not tagged with the White Horse's name. Odd. So I asked Fen what was up, and sure enough, it was a picture of her and her boyfriend way back in Uni (or college, as we would say here in the States), and a friend was just now posting it several years later. I couldn't help but think, "I wonder what The White Horse thinks of this photo?"

I got my answer today. As I opened up facebook, the first story in my newsfeed was that the cute neighbor was tagged in a photo by one of his good friends. It was a photo from Halloween two years before, an entire year before I had even met the cute neighbor. In the photo with him was his ex-girlfriend. I know this because they were holding hands.

The cute neighbor has 7 years on me. That means when he was graduating from high school, I was finishing up the 5th grade. That's a lot of extra years to accumulate ex-girlfriends and ex-hook-ups. I know that they exist, and I'm ok with that. Really, I am. Unless you marry your high school or college sweetheart right after graduation, it's going to happen. We all have a past, and as long as that past doesn't carry an STD with it, it's fine.

I do not, however, need to put names and faces to the past. I know some women diligently go through every photo of their current beau, looking for just that, but I am not one of them. Absolutely nothing good could possibly come of it, so why do it? It will only lead to jealousy and insecurity, and I'm good without that, thank you very much. And since I have made the effort to be very good and not go snooping through old pictures, I would like it very much if those old pictures of my boyfriend and his ex-girlfriends would not show up in my newsfeed. Is that too much to ask for? Am I going to have to "hide" him? Is it even possible to have a healthy facebook relationship with the person you're dating?

Friday, November 5, 2010

The sweater situation

I had a date the other night with a new guy.  I have to say I've really lost interest in the whole OkCupid thing but I'm persevering.  Partly for your reading entertainment, and partly because I don't want to put too much hope on Jonny Damon.  Sure, he's great but we all know The Disappearance can take place anytime, and to anyone.  Plus, this new guy is a serious traveler.  If there's someone I at least have to meet/give a chance, it's a serious traveler.

We had plans to meet at a bar after work, more specifically he told me he was waiting at the end of the bar.  When I got to the bar the only man at the end was clearly 45 years old, at least.  Holy crap, how did I accidentally make a date with a man clearly 20 years older than me?  I text him that I'm there.  The old man moves to get his phone. Damn, my not looking at profile pictures closely enough! I start planning my get away.  I start thinking of how to hide the disgust that is currently all over my face.  I start looking at the guy walking towards me.  The much younger, fairly attractive man, that appears to be smiling at me.  The man in the hooded zipup alpaca sweater.   The man in the alpaca sweater with llamas on it.  I'm going on a date with a man wearing an alpaca sweater, decorated with llamas.  What the hell?

What's a guy thinking wearing a llama ridden sweater out in Boston?  He wasn't even a hipster.  Don't get me wrong.  I've been to Peru, I've seen my fair share of sweaters made out of alpaca wool.  All of which seem to have llamas on them.  Violet and Fenella have even lived in Peru.  But outside of Peru, would you ever want to date a man wearing one?  At least he wasn't 45.

The Alpaca Sweater turned out to be an ok guy.  He has traveled quite a bit, including a stint in the Peace Corps in Ecuador and a trip to Peru, where he picked up that little number.  He also lives extremely close to me, which would be very convenient.  He was an ok guy.  But with or without llamas bounding across his chest, he's really nothing to get excited about.  
 

Thursday, November 4, 2010

How to Find a Husband: Part 1

This is the first in a multi-part series on How to Find a Husband. This is for entertainment purposes only, and is a tongue-in-cheek criticism of smug marrieds. The authors, Grayer and Violet, firmly believe that no one NEEDS a husband to make them complete, but if they want one, the best way to find one is to just be yourself.

Step 1:


Keep Expectations Low


Realize the world is comprised of virtually no Jim Halperts but plenty of Dwight Shrutes. Settle on Dwight. A ring is a ring.

Repeat after us: The Perfect Man does not exist. Sad, but true. The Holy Grail of Men does not exist in real life. You may think that they do because you see them on TV or read about them in books, but they are only perfect because they are written that way- and mostly by women.
Jim Halpert, Edward Cullen, and (insert your own make-believe perfect man here) are NOT REAL. And if they were, Jim Halpert is not likely to ask you out; he’s already taken. Or gay. Dwight Shrute, however, is sure to ask you out. If a ring is your true heart’s desire, go with Dwight.



How to Lower Your Expectations

We all want the same thing: a doctor with a full head of hair who spends his free time reading to underprivileged children. This simply won’t happen, so we need to take those expectations down a notch (or two, or three, or four...) It's called "settling" down for a reason: You need to settle.
  • OK, so he’s not a doctor. Or even a lawyer. Nor is he an accountant, teacher, cop, or a chef. Try to find the positive in whatever job he has (assuming he has a job. If he’s among the unemployed, we’re sure he has potential...). Street corner mime? He’ll make you laugh, and he won’t talk too much. Garbage collector? Um...well...
  • A receding hairline isn’t as bad as it may seem. If it’s not too far gone, there are plenty of products or procedures that will help clear that up. If it’s too late for that, recite the mantra Bald is Beautiful and develop a thing for Bruce Willis. He doesn’t look like George Clooney, but who does? We know you’re more worried about your children inheriting that nose of his than anything else, but just keep plastic surgery in mind. It can always be chalked up to a deviated septum.
  • A bigger problem may be if he hasn’t been to a gym for the better part of a decade. A new found love of walks in the park may not do the trick, but a fake note from his doctor explaining his possibly fatal disease that can only be cured with diet and exercise (I think they call that heart disease) just might.
How to Know if You Have Lowered Your Standards too far
  • He only calls you collect from the state penitentiary
  • Your hands slide right off his hair and he always calls you “doll face.”
  • You met in a decoupage class
  • You’ve never seen him sober
  • “His place” is in his parents’ basement. You have to clear away the Star Wars action figures in order to sit down.
  • His first three wives have all mysteriously disappeared.

Next up: Part II- Pets and Hobbies: The Keys to Entrapment

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

How 'bout them apples

On Sunday I got a VIP tour of an apple orchard for my second date with the ever adorable Jonny Damon.  It was a great day to be outside, walk around the orchard/Christmas tree farm, eat apples right off the tree, and meet his family.  What the what?! you say?  Yep, I met his aunt and uncle, who own the orchard.  I met them for far longer then he intended.  I got a tour of their farmhouse and barn.  I even got to look through the cool old family stuff they had just pulled out of the attic.  I even got introduced as "My nephew Jonny Damon and his...fr...frrrriend???, Grayer."  (This made us look at each other and laugh).  I even got a free bag of apples (score!).  This premature meeting of the family didn't bother me.  JD's aunt and uncle are kind of awesome.  When we got back in the car I asked if we should just go meet his parents while we're at it.  "I like to save that for the third date" he says with a killer smile, looking at me for far to long to be safely driving.  Swoon.  Did I mention how cute he is?  Sooooo cuuuute

After the orchard we went back to his place.  It was Sunday after all, and that's Patriots day.  Of course, I was cool enough not to mind if we watched football all afternoon, because I really don't mind watching football.  But what really impressed him is my (limited) knowledge of the team.  Thanks, free subway paper that rarely covers anything other than Boston sports!  Although we watched the game, I honestly feel like he was paying more attention to me than the tv.  At half time we flipped to HGTV.  For dinner, he made me mac & cheese and Totino's pizza rolls and then we watched several episodes of Are You Afraid of the Dark?.  It's like he knows just what to do to impress me. 

I stayed pretty late that night, making it possibly one of the longest dates ever.  He had a pretty bad cold so getting a little cozy under his Patriots blanket was all that happened (although he did ask if I wanted to makeout right after every particularly phlegmy cough).  But when he walked me to my car I really wanted to kiss him.  So I did.  And when I'm calling in sick with a bad cold later this week, I still won't regret it. 

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Happy Halloween

Yesterday I went on a costume pub crawl.  It started at 1 pm.  Do you know how many people are dressed up for Halloween at 1 pm? No one.  Do you know how many people stared at/talked about me, in full costume, as I rode the subway alone at 1 pm?  Everyone.  Everyone stared at the zombie schoolgirl smeared in fake blood.  An Asian tourist took a picture of me.  One guy even asked me if I was ok, and I don't think he was joking. 

The costume crawl was a blast.  It's always fun to see guys in costumes, and then girls in slutty versions of those costumes.  My friends and I decided Halloween may be the easiest night of the year to meet someone.  You have an instant icebreaker when you go to caress that chicken, feel that guys grapes or punch a muppet in the head, just to see if he feels it.  Yep, those are all effective icebreakers.

Today I'm going to Jonny Damon's house and then we're going to an apple orchard that his family owns.  Isn't that the cutest date ever?! If only this fake blood would come off...

Monday, October 25, 2010

You had me at HGTV.

I need to gush about my most recent date to someone.  That someone is you. 

On Saturday I went out with Jonny Damon, not the real Johnny Damon (that would be craaaazy), but a guy who I will be calling Jonny Damon for several reasons.  1. Red Sox fan (JD played for the Sox) 2. Beard (in all it's glory) 3. Wicked cute (women would probably be wearing his face on tshirts).

I had high hopes for Jonny Damon.  So high that I was really excited/nervous about our first meeting.  He doesn't live in the city so I met him halfway for dinner.  Yes, dinner for our first meeting, very risky.  But I had a good feeling about JD, and I also had to drive 15 minutes so yeah, I was going to eat dinner.  Firstly, let me tell you how cute he is.  He is sooooo cuuuuuute.  Light brown hair, blue eyes, well trimmed beard.  He is fun to look at.  I almost question if he is too hot for me (but then I remember I am awesome).

Secondly, let me tell you how cool he is.  He's freaking awesome.  He's funny and he thinks I'm funny, which is extremely important to me.  He has a degree in elementary education and wants to teach the second grade (how cute is that?).  Until he finds a teaching job he's been doing carpentry (how hot is that?).  We have a lot in common.  He appreciates 90s Nickelodeon tv just as much, if not more than I do (he owns all episodes of Salute your Shorts and Are you afraid of the Dark?!).   He loves doing home renovations and watches a lot of HGTV (I can not be torn away from renovation/home shows on HGTV!).   He collects sea glass (I just went to a sea glass festival!).  I could go on and on. 

We met for dinner at 7:30, it was packed.  We left around midnight, it was completely deserted.  So yes, I think it's safe to say it went pretty well.  I think we made plans for 4 possible dates in the future.  Things we really want to do but no one else wants to do with us (like horror movies and brewery tours).  I can't get to excited about that yet, one day at a time right?  He texted me today, just to tell me he had a great time on Saturday and that he hopes he can see me this weekend.  This made me ridiculously happy.  Boy, you can see me anytime you want.  Did I mention how cute he is? He's soooo cuuuute.

In the meantime, I not going to turn off OkCupid.  As Violet put it, "In dating, you can't put all your eggs in one basket."  But me liking Jonny Damon so much really made me question if I should see the 35 year old again.  Which I guess I should.  Jonny Damon after all will probably have a date this week so why shouldn't I? 

You cannot be serious

I have been finding recently that every time I log on to Facebook I discover that someone has either got married, got engaged or is having a baby. OK, every time may be an exaggeration, but it is happening an awful lot.

I logged on this afternoon and yet again someone is getting engaged. But it's someone I used to babysit for.

Yes, someone that I used to read bedtime stories to is soon going to be a smug married. And I'm only 24.

What is the world coming to?

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Bridget's Favorite Things

We here at WWBD? have every intention of taking over the world once Oprah relinquishes her crown next spring. What else to do when preparing for World Domination than to compile a list of our favorite things? Unfortunately, current budgetary restraints don't allow for us to share with you, our loyal readers. So while there may not be uniformed caterers popping into your room to serve you, and there certainly won't be the keys to a new vehicle under your chair, we still want to share these new discoveries with you. Mostly because they have made our lives awesome, and we want your lives to be awesome too.





Grayer says...
This is the best invention for women since the birth control pill. Sure, it's about $40 but you'll never have to buy tampons or "sanitary napkins" ever again! To top it off, it's environmentally friendly because those tampons and sanitary napkins create billions of tons waste every year. Gross! The Diva Cup is available at environmentally friendly stores, such as REI or Whole Foods. You can wear it all day and all night with out having to worry about leakage, a spare tampon, or my biggest fear of store brand sanitation, Toxic Shock Syndrome (caused by that pesky Staph aureus). Once you go cup, you won't ever want to give it up.


Violet says...
I am absent-minded and very forgetful, and would therefore always, ALWAYS forget to throw some tampons in whatever purse I was using at the moment. That is why I love the Diva Cup. I can go on with my daily life, and not worry about running to the bathroom, or whether or not I have an extra tampon with me. Especially wonderful when traveling, when bathrooms are at a premium.

Fenella says...
These have not made it over the pond yet. They better pretty soon though.


  • Homemade, Fresh-fruit smoothies

Violet says...
I never owned a blender until my roommate recently acquired one, and now we can't stop making fresh smoothies. Strawberries, half a banana, a bit of orange juice, and some ice, and you've got yourself a refreshing, tasty treat. And several servings of fruit. (Strive for 5, kids!) The other day I made a pineapple/passion fruit smoothie that rocked my socks off. Hint: Even if you don't care for bananas in your smoothie, you still need one to achieve the desired texture.

Grayer says...
I've been way into smoothies lately. They're my on the go breakfast while walking to the T. The great thing about smoothies is no matter what you put in it, it still tastes good. I put frozen fruit in mine along with plain or vanilla yogurt, milk or juice, and some protein for staying power. If everything's cold, there's no need for ice. (And I disagree, you don't need bananas for texture).



  • Glee

Grayer says...
We have a certain weakness for singing and choreographed dancing. If you're not watching it, well, you might as well start. It won't be going away anytime soon. Though I'm not loving this season, it's still damn entertaining.

Violet says...
Nothing makes me wish I had any kind of singing ability more than this show. Or that I had had a teacher like Mr. Schuester (who I would have had a total crush on). And have you heard their version of Britney Spears' Toxic? Awesome.

Fenella says...
Glee makes my Monday evenings. The fact that I live in the backwater that is the UK means that the second series doesn't start until January and I am suffering serious withdrawal symptoms. And Mr Schuester? If he was my teacher I would definitely be fluent in Spanish by now.

  • Seasonal brews
Grayer says...
Guys love a girl that drinks beer, it's a proven fact. Seasonal/Regional brews are the best brews. Nothing says "fall" like Shipyard Pumpkinhead. Nothing says "oooooh, oooh yeahhhh" like Southern Tier's Choklat Stout. This winter stout is like an orgasm in a glass, no joke. This beauty will leave you smiling and satisfied, which is more then I can say for certain men, and at 11%, one glass will leave you with a lovely glazed over look. I call that getting krunked with class.


  • Zumba

Grayer says...
Since I'm a sucker for choreographed dance, I'm a sucker for Zumba. Hip songs with repeating steps that about half way through the song, you actually start picking up. And when I do actually get those steps I feel like I'm dancing back up for Janet Jackson (ok, insert someone cooler here). I don't know why men haven't gotten in on this, with all the booty shaking going on. Some people hate it, but that's usually because they have no rhythm/coordination.



Violet says...
You've never heard of this band, especially if you don't live in Atlanta, but you should. They are definitely unique with their riverboat jazz sound and fun lyrics. Also, I have a total crush on their trombonist, (yes, they have a trombonist) mostly because he looks like Paul Rudd. With a beard. Look them up, and if you like them, download them. They're on iTunes! Don't miss Oh Angela!, March of the Hookers, or Old Man Cabbage.


  • Winter pyjamas
Fenella says...

We all know that scene in Bridget Jones Diary where Ms Bridget is sat in her pyjamas, drinking wine and listening to Sad FM? I too have a pair of pyjamas very similar to these. And they are amazing. Now that the nights are drawing in and it's bitterly cold there is nothing better then getting home from work, getting into my pyjamas and making friends with a bottle of wine. Do I kick my leg up in the air and play guitar with a magazine? You bet I do.