Tag Archives: victoria bc

Why Bitches Be Crazy

We’ve all heard or used the saying “bitches be crazy” and it’s true. Females can be extremely “crazy”. Now, now before you flip out and tell me I’m a bitch for saying females get crazy (which would be a ‘crazy bitch’ thing to do, btw), lets think about this rationally. I will use myself as an example. I have a good family. I have good friends. I have a University degree. I have a happening social life. I’m fortunate enough to be decent looking. I have a good job. I have hobbies. I have a uterus. Therefore, I am crazy and can be a bitch. I don’t know why. I just am.

Merriam-Webster defines crazy as “full of cracks or flaws; crooked, askew, mad, insane; being out of the ordinary; erratic, impractical; unusual; distracted with desire or excitement; infatuated; absurdly fond” and bitch is described as “the female of the dog or some other mammals; a lewd or immoral woman; a malicious, spiteful, or overbearing woman —sometimes used as a generalized term of abuse; something that is extremely difficult, objectionable, or unpleasant”.

Combining any of those terms together is slightly terrifying and doesn’t really encompass what a “crazy bitch” is. So in an attempt for an accurate discription of a “crazy bitch” you can log onto urbandictionary.com and read away. I will make it easy, here’s the link: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=crazy%20bitch

Now that the technical shit is out of the way, lets examine some situations in my life where I was a crazy bitch. Hold on tight for this wild ride people.

A) I once made a fake email address and emailed a bitch my boyfriend slept with, when we were on a ‘break’ (watch Friends and you’ll get it) and pretended to have had met her at a party just to try to get more info on this chick. I did this because I found naked pictures of her on his phone and didn’t believe that they weren’t in contact anymore. I was right. He asked me if I had done this because said stupid hoe chick got a weird email. I played dumb, obviously, and freaked out like a crazy bitch on him for lying to me.

B) I often creep my ex’s ex’s to see what they look like/talk like/do with their spare time. I mean creeeeeep, hard. No necessary reason for this. I don’t tell anyone I do this. I just do it. That’s crazy and stupid and probably severely damaging. I like to see if my ex’s refriend/follow them. Why? I don’t know. I am not crazy enough to do anything about it, except maybe text my ex after a few too many redneck margaritas.

C) I went through a guys phone when he was passed out because I didn’t believe that he wasn’t talking to other girls. He was and it wasn’t platonic. I took the high road and didn’t confront him, as we hadnt had the ‘exclusive’ talk. A week later he then went through my phone and was mad that I had dudes in my phone and asked me to not see anyone else. Shortly after this, he proceeded to sleep with a rando. Is your mind blown by the fuckery of the situation yet? Just wait. How did I find out he slept with said girl? Oh, yes, I saw the text convo he left open on his phone, as he handed it to me, saying he felt like a hooker because she kicked him out. I freaked out like a crazy bitch.

D) I got a late night text from an ex and went there, drunk, and started a ‘serious’ conversation asking him questions that had been on my mind and when I felt he was being shady about the answers lost it and got myself kicked out. Turns out he was lying (a big one) and I found out via creeping and confronted him, like a crazy bitch.

Do we see any patterns here people? Bitches be crazy because dudes be lying fools. If a girl asks you a question, there’s a very good chance she knows the answer or her ‘woman’s intuition’ has kicked in and she’s grasping at straws to justify your behavior. Also, all you men say you hate crazy bitches but why then do you hit me up more when I go straight certifiable on your ass but ignore me when I’m a sweetheart? Riddle me that fellas.

Moral of the post is to continue being your crazy bitch self,  in private. In public smile and nod and then take a crowbar to his shit.

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Island, Round #2

When I finally gave up on “big city” me and moved back to Victoria I started doing the exact same thing I did in Vancouver… Making horrible decisions. While in Vancouver I would say “Tonight I’m going to play a game called Bad Decisions”. That phrase carried across the straight, packed neatly in my luggage and tucked in my brain like a … well, bad idea.

Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t go out and find one night stands, start twerking on strangers, or become addicted to meth or crack cocaine, I’m just a lowly sales girl after all, not a Mayor. I just didn’t care if I was rejected, I flirted with no sense of shame, and I talked to who I wanted, when I wanted.

Before I sunk to making another online dating profile I started flirting with the idea of meeting someone in “real life”.  Well, I met an array of unimportant players in my life. Read, they don’t matter anymore and barely left a blip on my radar. A few fun facts did come from them though, please be aware, these are awesome factoids:

  • It is possible to find a dust bunny the size of an actual bunny in some men’s homes. Not pleasant. If you can’t clean your house, what else aren’t you cleaning?
  • If someone calls you a conundrum, run away. Fast.
  • Men who play guitars are 61.8% more attractive. Always.
  • Boys like nail polish on your nails, it gives them something to look at other than your cleavage as you’re telling stories.
  • Dating someone who feels they need to ask your ex-boyfriend if they can date you is never a good idea. No more drama, mamas.
  • Drama is always invited in, rarely does she just show up and make herself at home uninvited.
  • Accountants are boring. Always.
  • If someone says they are a professional athlete, google them. If they’re not on google, it’s a lie.
  • If a man has a beard he is sexier. Always.
  • Always shave your legs, this is just a life fact. No reason behind it. But y’all should know shaving legs is not optional.

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December 22, 2013 · 5:42 PM

Way Back Whenesday

My first real boyfriend in adulthood started out like any relationship when you’re 19… We met at a party and made out at, like, the seven following parties and then started “seeing” each other. This basically meant we started hanging out in day light hours and held hands in public and didn’t pretend to leave parties seperately. It was awesome. We did this for an entire Summer. Hanging out, making out, fishing,  camping, tubing, laughing, sexing, dates, road trips, sleepovers when we could sneak them in (we both lived with our parents), all the best things that come with the start of a relationship in Summer. When Summer finally ended and I packed up to move back to Victoria he surprised me by asking me to be his girlfriend. I said yes, after all he was 6 feet 4 inches of small town, good lookin, fun time muscle.

Sounds too idealic to be true, right! Yup, you would be right. When I left town and moved back to Victoria, he had a couple more weeks until he had to leave for his season home base, so he visited often. It was magic, as only first love can be. However, what you’re thinking is “season home base? What is that?”. Well, when you’re a semi pro hockey player, you don’t necessarily live where your girlfriend lives. First Love left and went across the country. We continued to date. Gor 2 years. On and off of course. Because he was a hockey player after all. And what they say about hockey players is true.

Not to dampen anyones spirits but here are my top 3 shitty things First Love did (and yes, I have put them in order) and yes they are terrible and devastating:

3) One dark and rainy (so I like to believe) night he would not answer his phone. At all. And I called at least a dozen times. We had fought (per usual) and he took a bottle of gin and ignored me. I do not take well to being ignores. Hence, the outrageous number of phone calls. Finally I made contact… with his roommate, only to tell me that he was “occupied”. I was naive, but now I know what occupied meant. He was not in the bathroom at 3am, or sleeping, or in a meeting, or any other logical reason that would render him incapable of answering his own phone . Its sad to say I only figured this out when I saw the naked pictures of a cheerleader on his phone. Bazinga!

2) First Love was fond of breaking up with me on MSN Messenger (so I wouldn’t necessarily get the messages right away – remember, texting wasn’t cool this long ago and landlines were the main form of communication) and then reconnecting with me a few days later with a sappy email/phone call/song. It only took me three breakups to realize they always fell on weekends his team was traveling.  At least he had the decency to ‘breakup’ with me before mattress dancing with puck sluts (my assumption on the morals of these girls was never proven).

And the #1 all time terrible thing First Love ever did was… drum roll please…

First Love and I took a break a few days before Christmas (he had to stay out East and all the breaking up was really getting in the way of the spirit of Christmas). We talked every couple days and always ended the conversation with “I love you”. Since he called me on Christmas, I thought I would call him on New Years Eve. Bad idea! Since he was 3 hours ahead of me I called him at 11 o’clock my time, just in time to get him before he hit the hay after the bar. Look at me being all thoughtful and shit. The conversation went like this:

Me: Happy New Years!  Did you have a blast?!
Him: Yup. I want you to talk to someone.
Me: Who?! (At this point I assumed it was a teammate, I often spoke with the boys when I calles)
Some Bitch: Who is this? (Muffled whispers to First Love, ‘who is it babe’)
Me: Umm, it’s his girlfriend (I know, we were on a break but details don’t matter to drunk people)
Some Bitch: What? I’m his girl now. *click*

Me, being naive, assumed it was a joke, so called back and the conversation continued as follows:

Him: What? Didn’t want to talk to the chick I’m gonna f*ck?
Me: Excuse me? This is a joke, right?
(In the background Some Bitch is begging First Love to take her home, I can still hear it to this day. He mumbles to her “one minute, just dealing with her”)
Him: I’ve got to go, I need to f*ck this girl
Me: You f*cking prick. Never talk to me again. *click*

I hung up my cell, started crying (at 11:30pm on New Years) and then sucked it up and partied for a bit… I ended up in pajamas with a pizza by 1am, which is kind of stellar. And only talked to First Love on two occasions after that: when he called to apologize because his cousin told him what he did to me (yup, kid was too drunk to even remember talking to me) and when I saw him randomly at a gathering. What lesson did I learn? Never call a man on a holiday.

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Way Back Whenesday

Oh, how lovely it is to reminisce on my failures as a dater/datee. Every time I dig into my ice cold heart and bring up a story, it warms my soul just a little to remind myself that what happened is the past and I will make better decisions next time… Not. It’s probably the warm bath warming my insides.

When I went away to university I was dating my high school boyfriend. We will call him High School Boyfriend (HSB for laziness sake and for obvious reasons). He was an alright guy. I mean, I came from a small town, so it was slim pickings when it came to dating, but all said and done, he’s an alright guy. He went to a different school than I did, so we tried the long distance thing… for 17 days.

I ended things with HSB over the phone (texting wasn’t cool yet) and he lost it (I don’t blame him, I’m pretty awesome). He climbed in a friends window, kicked a garbage can and threw the ID bracelet I had given him in said garbage can. I told him the distance was too hard and I was too busy with school. Before I reveal this,  please understand, I was 18. In actuality, I met a sexy boy-man and wanted to date him. Throw tomatoes at me if you want but I will dodge them like a ninja. College guy was nice, independent, funny, sweet, attentive, and just plain awesome in this small town girls eyes.

College Guy and I began dating almost immediately after I broke up with HSB (never a good idea people). It didn’t last long, it only took me a couple weeks to see the annoying things pop up (crass, no class, and all about getting ass – and not with me). Needless to say, it was a great decision to end things with HSB because he went super-stage five snd called all my friends to check up on me and even my mother (to thank her for always being so kind to him). He ended the conversation with my Mom by saying he would win me back… so I shouldn’t have been surprised when he showed up at my house three months later in the middle of the night. Right?

No wonder my dating life is so messed up. I’ve been making subpar decisions since before I even began to throw sex into the mix. Either way, HSB was out of the picture and recently stopped holding a grudge on me and added me to Facebook. Where I creeped the h-e-double hockey sticks out of his fiance and three children. I won this battle though because when I broke up with him Daddy let me use his credit card to buy a couple new outfits. Booya.

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Online Dating Anyone?

As a single member of the 21st century, I’ve dabbled in online dating. By dabble, I mean, I make a profile and keep it for two-four weeks before deleting it… and then re-make a profile a few months later. It’s a vicious cycle.

For the seven people out there who haven’t tried online dating, it’s weird. It’s a phenomenon that confuses me. I get the concept, you write what you think people want to hear, post pictures of yourself doing fun things and looking fabulous while doing said things and hope to catch a mate. Don’t get me wrong, some people find true love on dating websites at least four times a year. However, I’ve had no such luck. Hence, this blog.

I’ve been on and off dating websites for as long as I can remember. I met my last long term boyfriend on a site called Nexopia (I’m not even sure I knew it was a dating website at the time), but it was love at first type and we dated for awhile. So, after that relationship detoured to Breakupsville, I figured I’d give it a whirl again. Man, do I regret this decision.

I tried EHarmony, you know, where you pay a monthly fee to find love. Yeah, you’d think that if someone was willing to pay actual money to find a mate, they’d be pretty serious about it. Nope. I wasn’t, I went on exactly zero dates in three months. This was mainly because everyone I got matched with lived in a different province, or country and I don’t like airplanes, or pen pals. Plus, it’s a seven thousand step process to get to the back and forth communication part of the “courting” process. EHarmony, $134 dollars; Me, zero dates.

I tried Match.com. I actually made a decent profile and then never logged in again. Ever. Match.com, uninteresting and too green; Me, zero dates.

I tried Plenty of Fish (or as I call it, FISH OF PLENTY). I’ve created an account on this site approximately nine times in the last three years. NINE. (My love life is so bumpin). I make the same profile every time, I tweek a few words here and add some random facts there, but mainly I use the same gist (and I’ve got to say, I’m pretty honest about how weird and awkward I am). Then I post six-eight photos (always a head shot with make up on, a head shot with NO make up on, a couple photos of me doing fun activities, and a full body shot dressed up; gotta give the boys a realistic view of my many faces). Anyways, most of my dating history comes from this site. Why? I have no idea, especially when 87% of the messages I receive are “Hey” or “Your gorgeous” (yup, 9 out of 10 times messages are boring or spelled wrong). The best part of POF is that you get actual people soliciting sex from you, or straight up sending you pictures of their schlong. Yet, I always reactivate my profile… Maybe I’m the messed up one? POF, entertaining and free; Me, too many failed dates to count.

In my opinion online dating is like an addiction. You hate it, but you can’t stop. You want to be part of it, but don’t want to admit it. I sort of understand why people use online dating (heck, I’m one of them) but ultimately there is only one thing that matters, chemistry, and ain’t nobody going to find that on a computer screen.

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Bad Decisions

We all make 'em

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September 28, 2013 · 1:07 AM

The Beginning of my New Beginning

Where to start, where to start? I feel like before diving into the absurd dating stories I have, I should start off with a lovely tale of two people and how they came to end their relationship.

D and I had been together for darn near four years when I told him we needed to “talk”. Anyone who has ever been in a relationship knows that these are the words that you NEVER want to hear. No one says “we need to talk” and then asks what you want for dinner, or if you’d like to take a trip to Mexico. No, these words are always followed by a serious relationship talk. So talk is what we did.

Our talk went lovely. We agreed we were content but weren’t passionate or supremely happy, like all the truly in love couples on tv are. So we decided to give it a couple of days and think it through and then work on making a decision. We were so very adult about it.

Anyways, the day after we had our “talk” I came home from work and found D already home, not an unusual occurrence, but he had the look of a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. This is the conversation that followed:

Me: What did you do?

D: Nothing. Why?

Me: You did something. Tell me.

D:…….. I broke the computer.

Me: What? How? Were you looking at porn? Because if you were looking at porn then you definitely had enough time to start dinner

*Remember we had been together four years, this type of conversation was normal*

D: I wasn’t looking at porn. I’m not telling you what I did. But the computer has about 300 viruses, so I turned it off. It’s broken.

Me: It was porn.

*At this point I went about making dinner and we left the conversation alone, until I served up a lovely meal of halibut, rice and roasted veggies*

Me: For real, tell me what you did.

D: No… Promise you won’t get mad?

Me: Nope.

D: Ok, but promise you won’t laugh?

Me: If I won’t promise I won’t get mad then why would I promise not to laugh?

D: *says nothing, just stares at me*

Me: Ok, just tell me. Was it gross porn?

D: IT WASN’T PORN!

Me: Sure….

D: I was googling “Mutual Breakups” to see how I should feel about our situation

Me: *stunned silence* followed immediately by laughter.

D: You promised you wouldn’t laugh

Me: No I didn’t. Eat your dinner.

And that was when we both realized that even though we went through the motions of making it work in the previous months, that we would never be together in the long run, because we were best friends, but no longer in love. This was still my best break up to date.

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