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Last week the Wall Street Journal published an article by Kay Hymowitz titled “Where Have All the Good Men Gone?” I tried, but I just cannot let this one go. After watching the reactions, from both genders, that this particular piece stirred, I feel the need to offer my opinion… and I suspect it will not be what you suspect.

Hymowitz uses her article/book to argue that men in their 20s have stopped growing up, frustrating women everywhere who are looking for a good man with whom to start happily ever after.

This article elicited many a cheer of “right on sister” from single women across the nation and defensively charged comebacks from men claiming “nice guys never get the girl” and that “its the crazy women that drive men to behave like adolescents.”

COME ON people.

Let me start with the very first sentence in the article, which immediately got my blood boiling. Hymowitz  points out the “milestones of adulthood”  to include a high-school diploma (check), financial independence (check), marriage and children…wait, what?

I agree that getting married and having children are most definitely milestones in the lives of those that choose to do so, but are these honestly how we are going to define adulthood? Am I still in pre-adulthood because I haven’t yet chosen the path of marriage and children?

The rest of the article provides interesting theories into why more men now choose to prolong their bachelor days, pointing to economic and cultural influences, which are likely true, but my biggest beef is “who the hell cares?”

Yes, way less people between 25-29 are married than back in 1970. Um, thank God.

It’s about standards people. Some women whine about all the good men being gone as we get older. I get asked all the time why I don’t have a boyfriend or why I am not dating anyone. Let me tell you why, and its not because men are now less mature and there are fewer options out there. Its because I have standards and those standards have become more and more refined the longer I go through life and realize what it is that I do not want. In my twenties I went on dates all the time. I didn’t know what was important to me yet. I didn’t know what I wanted. That was the time to explore the possibilities and learn what it is that makes me tick. At the very least I got a free meal and a buzz out of the deal.

Today? I don’t need a free meal.  Today I choose not to waste my time going out with someone that I just know doesn’t suit my needs. I’d rather spend my precious time with friends than being polite to someone that I know will ultimately end up in my wake. The problem is not that there are less men out there, the problem is that I know what I want. And I don’t see that as a problem at all.

(Side note: to those of you who are going to write me about how I am too picky and am going to end up weeding out someone that could have ended up being the love of my life, buzz off. My gut has always proven pretty accurate and I’ve wasted a lot of time trying to fit square pegs into round holes.)

And as far as the “immature boys” that are causing so much irritation amongst the females that are rearing to do some rearing themselves? Ladies, look elsewhere. Date up a few years. Do your presenting at a coffee shop instead of the sports bar. If you don’t want to date a frat boy or someone with commitment issues then stop chasing them around. Believe me, your mature, loving, ready to raise a Jolie-Pitt style brood is out there…

and it has nothing to do with age.

I briefly dated someone 7 years my younger. He behaved like he was 55 and was a total bore. I did not go out with someone in his mid-twenties to hear about mortgage payments and fiber supplements. I went there to have a good time. Maturity is not about age. Its also not about “milestones.” Its about… well, maturity.

If a guy wants to spend his days talking star wars and playing Sega, and you aren’t down with it, then let him be. He is not the one for you, so walk away so you can be free to find someone else and let him keep doing what makes him happy.

I’m going to go ahead and keep doing what makes me happy too… and one day hopefully I’ll find someone that is also happy doing the same things. That will be a milestone in my adult life.

For the record…here is what I want. In case you know someone.

  • slightly self absorbed (ie. confident) on the surface but secretly thoughtful and generous
  • cute but not hot
  • healthy but big on indulgence
  • passionate
  • prone to geekery when it comes to those passions
  • appreciates music
  • savors learning
  • tallish (sorry, I always feel bad for short boys but a preference is a preference. Funniness can, however, negate shortness.)
  • I don’t care about width. Seriously. Unless you are gross, but that goes back to the healthy comment.
  • Loves to debate and isn’t a whiny bitch about it.
  • Wit (full stop)
  • And finally, and most importantly I am seriously turned on/off by the pants someone is wearing. Men can go oh so very wrong with bad pants.

That’s it. Is that so much to ask for? I think not.

Or if someone could just deliver me the nerdy guy on criminal minds, I have a feeling he’d work out perfect.

I leave you with a quote that I just stole from my new facebook friend. This speaks to all the guys whining about females that are crazy. Yes, we are. Deal with it.

“I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.” – Marilyn Monroe


HP sent me the link to this Lemondrop article yesterday and I about fell out of my chair. Why? Because, 1. This bloke is a phenomenal and hilarious writer (part of his problem, actually) and 2.  Finally someone is calling out this disorder many of us suffer from and his description of it is spot on. “IRL Syndrome — When You’re Better on Paper Than in Person” is not about resumes that exaggerate people as corporate superheros, as the title might suggest. It is about people like me who have mastered the art of flirting through the written word, but completely fall apart when expected to display the same behavior in person. I can convey my wit, charm and seduction perfectly in 140 characters or through an email that leaves its recipient checking his inbox every 3 minutes in anticipation of the next perfectly worded masterpiece. When forced to charm the pants off someone face to face, I clam up, my lip gloss covered straw gets caught in my hair, I stick my head into ceiling fans… I’m a hot mess that leaves my potential suitor racking his brain for excuses to run for the hills. I’ve tried to convert my written fabulousness into real-life behavior, but my clumsiness and inability to find the right words around people of the opposite sex that I’m attracted to seems to just be hardwired. I’ve now resigned to finding someone of equal awkwardness… or someone that thinks my own inelegance is cute.

Speaking of cute, today is the trip over to debauchery island, AKA Put-n-Bay. This yearly trip typically results in two drunk Cadmus sisters in ridiculous hats thinking we are giant bags of cuteness. This year should be extra special since we now have to make-up for the disappointment of the Tom Petty cancellation… and we are celebrating Michelle’s birthday. Gotta go find some twinkly lights to wrap around the boat!

Since the World Cup Dating Plan has been a big failure (It was great in theory, difficult in practice), I am going to continue implementing various different strategies… in the name of research, of course.

This week I will be headed back up to Denver to celebrate the marriage of two very dear friends. I am quite excited, as I always am, to visit the friends I left behind when I moved to Austin four years ago. The Bull and Bush always feels like I never left it and my “bar family” always welcomes me back with open arms… and by open arms, I mean shots of Jameson and blue cheese and bacon nachos. Watch this space for pictures of debauchery. My best friend and I tend to go deep into the depths of our closets to play dress up after a few bottles of wine and games of Yahtzee. Sometimes we even get our friends to dress up in Brianne’s old gymnastics leotards (Jimmy Love, don’t even try to pretend that you will resist it) and dance around to Sinead O’Connor.

Anyway, I’ve decided to do a little bit of single woman research on this trip. I forgot to add to my list of lame dating advice that people are always pointing to weddings as a great place to meet people. I will admit, it is a great place to “hook up” with people. I have been in enough weddings to have that drill down pat. There are pretty dresses (unless the bride puts you in a clown dress to make her look good) and drinking and dancing, and the bride and groom are always strategically pairing the single people up to walk down the aisle together in secret hopes that two of their friends will fall in love. But, what I am talking about here is not the wedding night “grab and go”, it is the suggestion that weddings are a great place to meet someone you may potentially find a future with… I find this hard to believe:

1. Most people bring dates. Even if they aren’t married to them, or even committed to them, most people scramble to bring someone to peruse the buffet with, perch at the open bar with and leverage as an escape plan when trapped talking to crazy cousin Sheryl. Even if they are “just a friend,” only rude people would bail on their guest to pick up someone.

2. A lot of people are in from out-of-town. Just what I need, another man in some city I will probably never visit who I end up having a text relationship with for the next 18 months.

3. Single people get hammered at weddings, and its unattractive… unless you are both equally wasted, then it just ends up being awkward the following day and new-found relationship stops where it started.

All that said, the couple that is getting hitched this weekend actually met at a wedding. And they didn’t live in the same city at the time, so miracles do happen. Plus, pretty much every wedding I have ever been to I have been in the wedding party or I’ve been there with my significant other at the time, leaving little opportunity to meet the man of my dreams. So this weekend I will investigate the real probability of meeting someone in the joyous wedding environment.

Let me know if you have any tips for picking up at a wedding and I’ll put them to the test…

I often post about my pathetic dating life. Not because I am looking for pity or sympathy, but because it’s mildly entertaining and sometimes freaking funny, so I want to share it with you. Truth is, I thoroughly enjoy my life. I’m happy. I’m fulfilled. And there is nothing worse than some of the patronizing comments we single women have to endure from the happily coupled-up folks that surround us (often complete strangers). I am frequently the 3rd, 5th or 7th wheel during gatherings and outings, and I’m totally cool with that as long as I’m enjoying the company. Stop pitying us. Stop being awkward and uncomfortable with the single people around you.

A Glamour Magazine dating blogger, Erin Meanley, posted about clichés you should never say to a single person. Now I know I often make fun of the ridiculous articles we see in magazines like this (especially Cosmo) but this particular post was spot on. I find myself compelled to add a few more to the list and comment on a few that could use some reiteration.

  • “You just chose your career over love. Now that you are successful you can focus on finding someone.”

If I had a dollar for every time someone has said this to me, I wouldn’t need a freaking career. I’m pretty sure that almost no one actually chooses their career over love. When you don’t have a needy man or family occupying your time, you focus on the things in your life that you do have control over. Yup, my career took off because of hard work and dedication but suggesting I prioritized that over love is just insulting.

  • “Just wait for the right guy. Be patient.”

This one came from HP (thanks!). Be patient my ass. This is particularly irritating coming from someone who was married in their early 20s. As my single friends and I climb higher into our 30s and 40s the pressure builds, but not all of us are freaking out about biological clocks or finding someone to walk down the aisle with us in the next 5 minutes. Most of us just want someone to have fun with and to get busy with. Who the hell is panicking and stop telling me to calm down!?!

  • “It will happen when you least expect/aren’t looking for it.”

Um, thanks for the valuable insight. Who ever really expects it? Do the math, friends, and remember your single days. How many people did you meet before you found your significant other? Dating is a game of pessimism, so of course you won’t be expecting it to work out.

  • “You’re just too picky”

Have you seen the divorce rates in this country? Maybe most people are just not picky enough. I prefer not to settle and I’m not going to see that as a fault. Neither should you.

  • “When Zippy and I met….”

As mentioned in the article, I don’t give a rats about how you and Zippy met. We are talking about me here.

  • “You’re not going to meet that special someone in a bar.”

Actually, if I polled my close friends, I bet the majority of the married folks did meet in a bar. Why? Because I hang out with people who like to go to bars. I like to go to bars. My future boyfriend will also like going to bars. Where I am not going to meet them is at the gym, so stop suggesting that. Have you seen me at the gym? My face is beet red within 5 minutes and I tend to sweat profusely. I don’t want to meet someone at the gym. Stop suggesting the grocery store too. I don’t know a single couple that met in the produce aisle.

  • And everybody’s favorite: “There are plenty of fish in the sea”

Well no shit. I have eyes just like you and I can see all the persons of the opposite gender wandering about living their lives. This saying is just crap anyway because it suggests that I am sitting with my pole waiting for any random boy to sadly get caught on my hook. When will this one phase out already?

Ultimately, as Erin so perfectly points out, if you don’t have unique valuable advice to give (like the World Cup dating plan), don’t give any at all. We aren’t fishing for it and most of what you say ends up sounding condescending. We’re doing just fine so there is no need to assume we walk around under a dark cloud feeling miserable about our single status and need some sort of pep talk.

I know there are some whiny people out there that never shut up about their life sentence in singledom. But honestly, the comfortable/confident singles way outweigh the desperate ladies. Now, off to study that World Cup schedule…

Day one of the World Cup Dating Plan wasn’t a total bust, but I can’t say it was a complete success either. I’m going to call it a fact-finding trip. I needed to spend a day in the environment to assess how the people act and where the windows of opportunity are. Truth be told, I was having such a blast hanging with friends and cheering for the USA, that my mind was not on seeking out targets. Plus, that would defeat the purpose of finding a foreigner. During the England game, we set up a satellite office in Fado and we all were more absorbed in facebook and answering emails than anything else. I did learn that the English folks like to chant. It does not matter what it’s about… Could be “I’m England till I die,” or “I love beer,” or “the guy in the hat is a wanker.” One person starts the chant and the rest of the bar joins in. Its kind of fun. Although our “office” was set up right next to the chant leader, which got annoying after a while.

At one point I did have a gentleman come up and give me a World Cup sticker book. He said he saw me eyeing it (wha?) and “when you see a pretty lady coveting something, you have to give it to her.” Unfortunately, he had no accent and did not meet the height requirement. I know, cruel, but I only have a few weeks window. I need to stick to the plan. Am thinking Italy versus New Zealand tomorrow could be a great option. I’m going to the Passion Pit show tonight, so a 9am game is a bit aggressive, but hey, what’s the point in making a plan if you are not going to be dedicated?

In other news, the porch family has finally returned. I am not sure where they disappeared to for a week. Maybe they went on vacation, but they are back in full force. They were carrying speakers bigger than me into the apartment. They invited me to their party tonight. Must be a welcome back to the porch party. I also talked the guy who owns the pee shop to start carrying diet Mountain Dew. I’m really starting to make an impact on this neighborhood.

It was about a year or so ago that I found myself sitting in a conference room at our agency headquarters in Portland with several of our senior execs and two scientists from Dallas. These gentlemen insisted they had invented a scientific model that could predict anything in the world. They were demonstrating how they could apply their predictive model to PR and told us about all the impressive global companies in telecom, space travel etc. for whom they had predicted all kinds of outcomes. After they left, I made a side comment about how I should apply this predictive tornado model to my dating life, if it worked so well. One of the agency founders looked at me and said “Oh, I have the answer to your dating problems.” Well, I was immediately interested because she is a very wise woman who I have learned many valuable things from. At lunch she gave me the details of her “104” dating plan. There are 52 weeks in a year and two weekend nights each week, hence “104.” She committed to going out on a date every Friday and Saturday night until she found someone she wanted to stay with. I think she said she only ended up going on nine dates before she found “the one”…

Given my track record, I am not ready to hand over all of my weekends to terrible dates, but what I did learn from this conversation is, just like in business or most other parts of your life,  you gotta have a plan. Enter “The World Cup 2010 Dating Plan.”

I went to Fado yesterday afternoon to visit with some of my Australian friends during the Australia vs. Germany game. When I opened the front door, to my surprise, hot men with accents were spilling out all over the place. And we aren’t talking frat boys or West 6th douchebags. I pointed this out to my friend Dec and we began to devise a plan. This World Cup thing goes on everyday until mid-July! Dec noted that I could also be very targeted about what type of guys I meet. If I’m looking for a Greek guy, I just show up when Greece is playing. I’m warming up to this idea. I am now very interested in the full World Cup schedule. I should brush up on my knowledge of the game, but I reckon being there to celebrate or console these fans of their home country could be a good spot to be in…

I’m off to study the schedule and develop my “outreach” plan.

You know where to find me

I love my hood. I have decided that if my business fails I am going to ask the family always hanging out on the porch in the affordable housing behind me to adopt me. They are some of the happiest people I have ever seen. There is always, without fail, regardless of the time of day, at least 3-10 people out there hanging out. Always smiling, always playin. That is, until today. I went by on my daily morning walk to the Comal Food Store (super dirty, smells like pee), as I do every day for a fresh diet coke. They were hanging out, but there was some official looking dude walking over to them. He had a magnetic name tag that he seemed to wear with pride, but I couldn’t make out who he was affiliated with. All I know is when I came by again on my afternoon run, the porch was empty. Sad. Hopefully this is just a brief hiatus, because I am pretty sure they would take me in after the Window AC Unit Incident.

Smells like pee, but you get used to it after awhile

Side Bar: The Window AC Unit Incident

I was casually walking by the porch family. It was a happy day because there was like 15 of them hanging outside. Probably four generations of men and women. Kids were playin in the lawn, gramps was on his rocker. Then, all of a sudden, a window AC unit comes flying down from the top story. We all froze, cuz that thing surely would have smashed the little girl on her big wheel if she had been in the landing zone. After about 4 seconds of silence, a lady leaned out the window that the AC had previously been perched in and she said “Shhhiiiiiiaaaaat.” The whole lot of us looked at each other, then keeled over with gut bursting laughter. I have to say, when you get 15 black people together in a fit of uncontrollable laughter, its bound to pretty much make anyone’s day. It was a moment of bonding for me and my friends on Comal street.

Where is Everybody?

I was letting the bad day get the best of me when I am pretty sure my grandmother intervened from the heavens. When mom and sis and I were guzzling tequila down in The Mexico, we were discussing what tattoo we would get to commemorate my grandmother that passed last year. We have shamrocks for my Dad’s Irish mom, so we started thinking we should do something Polish for my Mom’s mom. But the only thing we knew in Polish is “How are you?” and we had no clue how to spell it. Well, problem solved. I saw this bumper sticker today, and it took me awhile to understand it because I had never actually seen the phrase, only heard it. When it became clear… I tailed this old woman for 2 miles trying to get a picture. We wound up in a Walgreens parking lot.

Jak Se Mas?

Pretty sure that is not what we will get tattooed, but at least we know how to spell it now if we are ever in a bind.

Its approaching the hours that people refer to as “wee.” And I’m restless. At 8:30pm (most of you were probably gushing over the season finale of that irritating show called Glee) I was so freaking tired that I could barely carry myself upstairs to crawl into my nest (chauffeur Ants would have been nice here), and wouldn’t you know it, as soon as my head hit the pillow my mind started racing and sleep became forever out of reach. Even a Xanax didn’t help. All that did was make me start thinking about George Carlin. So I decided to read some of his quotes, which won’t likely put me to sleep, but that shit will forever be funny. During the Googling of George Carlin process I came across This guy is pretty freaking hilarious. Not to mention, did a post back in 2007 on 100 of George Carlin’s best quotes.

Some of my personal faves:

  • I wanna live. I don’t wanna die. That’s the whole meaning of life: Not dying! I figured that shit out by myself in the third grade.
  • The very existence of flamethrowers proves that sometime, somewhere, someone said to themselves, “You know, I want to set those people over there on fire, but I’m just not close enough to get the job done.”
  • So I say, “Live and let live.” That’s my motto. “Live and let live.” Anyone who can’t go along with that, take him outside and shoot the motherfucker. It’s a simple philosophy, but it’s always worked in our family.
  • Hooray for most things!

I agreed to be set up again today. I must be a masochist. That, or I am willing to take one for the team (that’s you) in order to bring you yet another recount of what will likely be another dating disaster. I’ve never been able to articulate what it is I am looking for, so how can someone else possibly know? I do, however, have a long and ever-growing list of what I am not looking for. I suppose one day, simple math says I will run out of things to not look for and either arrive at the Cadmus conclusion of a perfect man, or simply realize that one does not exist and go back to low expectations.

Meanwhile, my trainer decided it would be fun to hook me up to a bunch of wires and assess my fat content. Hmmm. I do not like this idea. Not one bit. After she sat me down and delivered the sad news, she gave me a print out of my results… I guess I am supposed to hang them on my fridge or something. Pretty sure I will ceremoniously sets them on fire. I suppose it did accomplish the goal of lighting a fire under my ass…which then accomplished her goal of getting me to spend the money I should be setting aside for taxes on another round of sessions with her. End of month and gotta meet quota? Break out the calipers and start pinching some fat.

Today I regained respect for VH1. I literally haven’t turned the channel on since they cancelled Rock-n-Roll Jeopardy in 2001 (Best show ever. They had a category dedicated to Traveling Wilburys once. I killed it).  I was at the gym, sweatin away on the treadmill when I happened to glance up and notice the flat screen in front of me said, “Undateable. 100 thing guys do that guarantee they won’t be dating or having sex.” Hot damn. It’s a show that lists douche beacons!! I ripped my earphones out of my iPod and popped them into the provided TV audio player.  The show was actually hilarious. VH1 gets some stellar comedians to comment on idiots. Only thing that could have made it better is if they renamed it to be “100 douche beacons that keep guys from getting laid.”

Here’s the problem. Guys get laid anyway. I see it all the time. Hot girl with irritating guy. This is a pretty solid list. There are a few that I think they are stretching on. I mean, I’ll sleep on Star Wars sheets as long as they are clean.  Most of the list, though, are traits that to me would scream, “run the EFF in the other direction. Now!” But the sad thing is, there are too many low confidence women out there that will allow this behavior to happen. The thing that proves that more than any example I can give is that the show was pretty much hosted by the cast of Jersey Shore! Mer?!? Why oh why do women lower their standards like that?

I know, I know. I have heard it a million times. Any woman could get laid, any night of the week, if she really wanted to. But, fact is, I don’t… I mean we don’t want to have sex with just any boy that can get it up. That is not fun for us. Or maybe its just me. I lose a lot of filters when I am drinking, such as the one that requires you to think before you speak. That said, it doesn’t matter how little blood there is in my alcohol stream, my man filter stays intact (Mom, this is a proud moment for you!). While I may not be getting as much action as Samantha Jones, at least I never have an awkward morning, don’t live in fear of STDs, don’t have to endure the walk of shame, don’t gag a little bit when I think back on my conquests and I am not a part of the mass of women that condone stupid man behavior just because they decide they are willing to overlook thinly veiled dousche beacons when they are drunk and horny.

Maybe if we all band together and closed up shop for these morons, we could change the world together and create a better dating pool for those of us that have standards.

I won’t hold my breath.

This does not mean the show cannot be useful to us women. I’m hoping to get the DVDs and make it required viewing for any prospects. Actually, I’m hoping to get the series and have a “Dousche Beacon” watching party with all my friends, of both genders. That would just be fun. And sure to spark some heated conversation.

I’m posting the whole list here. Notice that all my previous douche beacons made the list. And I may have made a few comments/edits.

100. Man Shakes
99. Blue Tooth
98. Wrong Sheets
97. Mandanas (Ok when hiking or doing any physical activity)
96. Tanks & Sleeveless Ts
95. Arm Wrestling In Public
94. “The Blank –STER”
93. Vanity Plates
92. Quoting Lines From Movies (I have to say that I allow this one. As long as it’s from movies I find funny and it’s not your entire vocabulary.)
91. Unfortunate Ties
90. Cell Phone On The Waist
89. Sports clichés
88. The Flatulence  Trifecta
87. Ordering Wine @ Stadium
86. Online TMI
85. Pleated Pants
84. Embellished Jeans
83. Rearranging Junk / Butt Picking
82. Sports Jerseys
81. Dirty Car
80. Aggressive Sport Fans
79. Murses
78. Whining (Oh, please please. Stop with the whining)
77. Jorts & Japris
76. Air Guitar
75. Boners
74. Fake Swearing
73. Hawaiian Shirts
72. Overly Creative Voice Mail
71. Names For Breasts
70. Listening To Lite FM
69. Skullwear
68. Speaking In Cartoon Voice
67. Can’t Throw Ball
66. Pet Names for Penis
65. Crocs
64. Pitted Out Shirts
63. Booyah
62. Tap That / Hit That
61. Playing Dungeons & Dragons
60. Going Shirtless In Public
59. Owning Nunchucks
58. Bling (this includes all excessive jewelry, not just diamond encrusted dollar signs)
57. Stupid Tees
56. Bad Dancing
55. Busting Out Porn Too Soon
54. Biker Shorts
53. Talking About Video Games (I’m a geek. This is sometimes ok in today’s geek lovin world)
52. Bro-Code
51. “Moist”
50. Leather Pants
49. Crotch Grab
48. Holiday Sweaters
47. Bad Table Manners
46. Cut Off Shorts
45. Penis Enlargement
44. Frequenting Gun Range
43. Tacky Texting
42. Chain Wallet
41. Getting Drunk On a Plane (depends on situation. This can be fun if man is not obnoxious.)
40. Disturbing Laugh
39. Lame Pick-up Lines
38. Open-Mouth Breathing
37. Excessive Any Ed Hardy
36. Burping Loudly & Proudly
35. Owning A Van
34. Baby Talk
33. Dad Jeans
32. Hairy Back, Neck & Nose
31. Eminem-Speak
30. Wimpy Drinker
29. Double Denim (when will they learn?)
28. Bicep & Calf Implants
27. The Pregnant Man
26. Speedos
25. Bad Driver (Sissy/Rage)
24. Attending Geek Conventions
23. Talking in Third Person
22. Riding A Contraption
21. Moobs
20. Guy lights/ Dyeing Your Hair
19. Bringing Glove to A Game
18. Tighty Whities
17. Bad Facial Hair
16. Gross Nails
15. Not Paying On First Date
14. Dirty Hair
13. Fur Coats
12. Bald Denial
11. Steroids
10. Creepily Into Mom
9.  Excessive Waxing
8.  Hocking Loogies
7.  Mandals  with Socks period
6.  The V & Other Gestures
5.  Bustin’ a Sag
4.  Eye/ Face lift
3.  Chewing Tobacco
2.  Talking About your Ex
1.  The C-Word (Unless said with a British accent)

That about covers it. What is interesting is that we are always hearing men talk about how women just need to shut up. It’s funny how many things were on the list that were about what men say. The request rings true both ways. Don’t talk to our boobs, don’t tell us you want to tap that ass, don’t talk at all if you are going to say something stupid. You don’t need a creative pick up line that makes you look like a heel. Just shut up, look cute and go in for the kill.

Apparently the show was based on an upcoming book titled, “Undateable: 311 Things Guys Do That Guarantee They Won’t be Dating or Having Sex.” Why didn’t I think of that… and I wonder if its too late to get them to change the name.

Chicks are crazy. I’m not afraid to admit it. We all have a little crazy in us. Some most definitely more than others but its always there, lurking under our cool and collected exteriors.

I was chatting with a friend the other day about her latest crush. Next thing you know we have spent a good 30 minutes analyzing everything he said and did in the last 48 hours. He said this, do you think that means he likes me? Or is he just saying that because he thinks that I think that he thinks… etc etc. You all know exactly what I am talking about. He scratched his left butt cheek then yawned. Certainly that means he’s in love with you…

Then I caught myself and said, “Friend, listen to us. We is crazy. We just spent the last 30 minutes analyzing whether the fact that this dude handed you a napkin means he wants to have babies with you.”

I am actually kind of proud of the fact that I recognized the crazy and halted it.

Awareness is the first step to saneness.

The fact of the matter is, if a guy likes you, you will know. Stop making things up. Stop making excuses for them. Stop analyzing everything they do so you can twist it into a reason for why they haven’t revealed their undying love for you. Its just not healthy. Find someone that does make it clear how they feel about you. Or, just cool your jets for a bit and let things happen.

As for all the other crazy stuff we women do. I can’t really comment on that. It’s just hardwired. Like migration and hibernation.

If you don’t want us anymore, we want you more. If you chase us, we’re not interested. If you say the wrong thing at the right time of the month, we’ll take your head off. Essentially, your damned if you do damned if you don’t. Its not a matter of finding a woman who isn’t crazy. I assure you, this mythical woman does not exist. You just need to decide how much and what kind of crazy you are willing to accept. Men operate on a dousche spectrum. They all have a little bit in there. Women operate on a crazy spectrum. Unfortunately, there aren’t crazy beacons, so it’s not as easy to identify what the crazy factor is when you first meet someone. In fact, the most crazy ones often seem like the most sane at first. They are masters at the art of the crazy cover up and then they will unleash the crazy when you least expect it.

Just sayin.

Speaking of crazy people I saw this guy on 6th street the other day. He was marching down the sidewalk with garbage on a stick, like he was trying to gather a following and lead some sort of march. Reminded me of that guy we saw at ACL a few years ago. At ACL, everybody brings flagpoles with various things hanging from them so they can find their friends. One dude just grabbed a giant tree branch and hung a bunch of trash from it. Clever.

But this guy is not at ACL. Nor does he have a bunch of people following him. Maybe he wasn’t trying to get people to follow him. Maybe he’s like the Pied Piper of Austin. Maybe he was luring the ants from my apartment. They are gone. I think the caulk blocking must have worked…

Garbage on a Stick

Off to have a ladies night. That’s when we let all the crazy hang out.

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