I'd Be Lying...

...if i didn't say that i wish my cheap beer buzz was offering me some kind of solace right now. instead my cheap beer buzz has turned into a bad headache. which further exemplifies my point of getting what you pay for. hey. i'm poor. what's a poor girl to do? bud light it is.

well it looks like this will be the last of my rants, raves and bitches for the month...it's hard to believe i was just bitching about the fact that i couldn't believe it was already november, and then in a blink of an eye - an encounter in kansas city, a near bar fight, a roadtrip to indiana, the bittersweet end of a friendship, five bottles of vodka, and an apple pie and a pumpkie cheesecake later, the month is all but gone. wtf. it always seems like time has a way of slipping away from you when you're trying so hard to hang on to a memory.

it's all such bullshit.

when i was in my twenties i went on hundreds of dates and i'm not even lying. what's sad is that out of those hundreds and hundreds of dates is the fact that so few of them were good and so many of them were bad. what's equally mortifying is that my bff also likely went on hundreds of dates and her luck proved to be about just as good as mine. i guess we're two unlucky broads when it comes to the relationship world. dating world. man world. but alas, this is not a sob story about the hundreds of horrible men out there who are clearly single for a reason. no. this is the story of this unlucky broad being thirty-two and horrified at the thought of dating. i mean for fuck sake! it's not as if i'm an amateur when it comes to dating...it's that i don't want to fucking do it. shit. i'd rather be alone. and what is so fucking tragic about being single anyway? i don't have to feel guilty about ogling at beautiful men and i don't have to hide it. (when i was in a relationship i always had the decency of not being obvious about it. well...as a matter of fact, i didn't do it all because it's fucking rude).

p.s. rule number one all you dumbfucks of the world! don't unabashedly stare at some beautiful person of the opposite sex when you're on a date or you're with your significant other. DUH. like fucking DUH. (and if you're gay, the rule still applies but i'm straight so i'll write accordingly).

now where was i? oh right. the not so tragic factors of being single. i can not only brazenly stare at beautiful men...i can accidentally grab their asses! jk. that might have happened like once or twice or maybe ten times. whatever. that's not the point. my point is, is that being single is awesome because you don't have to deal with all the fucking bullshit. and let's face it, it's almost ALL fucking bullshit. i also don't have to be worried about hogging the bed or the sheets or the covers or all five fucking pillows. it's my fucking bed, i paid a pretty penny for it, and i should be able to sleep how i want in it. THE END. i can watch whatever gotdamn television channel i want, and it doesn't matter that i want to watch "legally blonde" again, in spite of the fact that i've already seen it a hundred times. HELL-OOO?! my fucking tv. and, i don't have to worry about going to my fucking refrigerator and realizing that my last powerade has gone amiss. i don't have to worry about going to the store. or keeping a clean house (although i am a neat freak so not that that's a significant factor), but if i so wanted to choose to be a slob, i could be. and i don't have to worry about shaving my legs or wearing my gramma panties. i can do what i want. although, i'm pretty sure i did all of those things anyway irregardless of being in a relationship.

what i'm trying to convey is the fact that relationships take work and i decided i'm lazy. actually i decided i just don't give a flying fuck that much anymore and i'm tired of doing all the work and trying to please people and for what?! nothing. i'm tired of always getting the short end of the fucking stick! what is wrong with people?! they're fucking assholes and that's why i hate everyone!!! being single is easy. no muss. no fuss. that i can deal with. fuck. being selfish is totally worth it!

seriously though. the thought of having to get back out there and date again makes me wanna slit my wrists. it's not fun anymore. it use to be fun because if i was on a bad date, i'd just drink myself into oblivion (in an attempt to numb the pain of another bad date), excuse myself to the ladies' room, and then call up a friend and make fun of the freak i was on a date with. that's not my idea of fun at age thirty-two. no. no it is not. although, i did have some pretty righteous laughs with my friends over all the "kill me now" dates i had been on. i do get sick pleasure in making fun of people.

i think that is why it is sometimes easier to hang on to a bad relationship than it is to try and start a new one because the very thought of having to go on ONE more bad date makes me seriously nauseous. (at least in a bad relationship you're already know what you're getting). the idea of one more bad date is going to make me vomit, and it's clearly going to make me an alcoholic. hey. i'm not saying i'm so great or that i'm a fun date except that i am. i AM. and i can justify that by saying i've never NOT been asked out for a second date but i can guarantee you, i am a screener so if i don't return your call within a day or two, you might as well forget i ever existed. because for me...? that bad date was only a bad dream and a good story to gossip to all my friends about, and believe me when i say, i'm not holding back when i lay out every last gory detail of the bad date on the table. DUH. that's what girl friends are for! don't think girls don't kiss and tell because they do! i totally do, and i have absolutely NO shame in doing so. see...i should have been borne a man. then maybe i'd also be perfectly contented sitting around, drinking my cheap beer, and masturbating to bad porn. or not. don't get me wrong. i LOVE being a woman but i'd really like to live a day in the life of a dick.

oh well damn. better get back to my single life of playing trivial pursuit by myself, (and NO. that's not a secret code phrase for sex, drugs or masturbation), i really do play the board game by myself, and i like it. so what if i'm a dork? or pathetic? or a loser? i am my own dorky, pathetic loser and i LOVE it because my refrigerator is stocked with powerade, my laundry is accumulating in the hallway, i'm wearing my gramma panties, laying right in the middle of my bed with hairy legs, and i just might watch "legally blonde" while drinking my cheap beer and belching really loudly. and i'd be lying if i didn't say that this is a very good life.