As many of you know, I'm
single and have been for some time. I've probably reached the point
where people think there's something wrong with me.
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Nothing wrong with me at all, I'm a catch. |
I'm not actually that fussed
about dating. I haven't met anyone who seems worth it. I have better
things to do than sit around in restaurants, morosely picking
at my cheese fondue while some starry-eyed stranger tries to cram
our lives together like the wrong two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
Besides, I know how love
happens. Love, like cancer and car accidents, happens when you least
expect it. One day, you're going about your business, not bothering
anyone, when suddenly, BAM! You're in it.
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Ugh. |
Nevertheless, some of my
girl friends are desperate to see me blissfully happy, whether I like
it or not. Granted, I've been known to b*tch about being single, but
I have to listen to them b*tch about their boyfriends, and turnabout
is fair play.
Their unsolicited advice
doesn't exactly bother me, but much of it is just plain f*cking
stupid. Such as:
Pressuring Me to Date People
I Don't Wanna Date
I guess everyone, at some
point, has at least one dismal prospect who just keeps hanging
around, no matter how many times you tell them to f*ck off. My girl
friends keep encouraging me to go out with one, some, or all of these
people. When I say, “Well, I'm really not interested at all,”
they respond with things like:
- “But he loves you.” Maybe, but I don't love him. The last time I checked, that was kind of important.
- “Oh, come on, it's only a matter of time.” What the hell does that even mean?
- “Sometimes you just have to make do.” No, sometimes you just have to make do. I, on the other hand, am hot. I do not have to make do.
- “Oh, you know how girls are. Just sleep with him a couple of times, you'll fall in love.” Really? You don't say! Tell me more, divorcĂ©e.
You might as well just come
right out and say it – “You're lucky to get anyone! You'd better
go for it because you might not get anyone else! Ever! Again!”
Please, your desperation is driving even
me away.
Seriously, though, I thought
we knew this was a recipe for disaster. This kind of thing leads to
sexual frustration, depressive disorders, romance novels,
extramarital affairs and some poor bastard sobbing at the end of the
bar. Funnily enough, when I say, “If you like him so much why don't
you date him yourself,” all they'll do is shudder.
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I can't imagine why. |
Telling Me I Should “Make
More of an Effort”
I get this one a lot: “You
don't even try, Marjorie. Maybe if you made more of an effort,
Marjorie.”
To be fair, maybe I could
make more of an effort. Maybe I could stick my tits out and toss my
hair around and giggle a lot and say things like, “Oh my Gawwwwd,
you're so smart!”
Then again, if you're a
regular reader, you're probably aware that I don't give a happy f*ck.
It's not that I don't care about my appearance, it's that I reckon my
appearance is already pretty damn good and I don't need an inch of
shellac to bring it up to code. I'm not that kind of girl, anyway. I
like not wearing makeup, because it means I can rub my eyes.
And no, I don't see a problem with this. I might as
well start as I plan to continue, right? I'm not going to become a
totally different person just because some stud waved his magical
c*ck wand at me, so there's no point in false advertising.
Pushing Me to Settle
As you may have guessed,
I've spent a lot of time with the wrong people. It's left a bad taste
in my mouth – kinda like sucking on nickels. Especially if one of
those nickels got dropped on a hot sidewalk and spent some time stuck
to old gum.
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Ew. |
Having wasted years of my
life hanging out with dumbsh*ts, you can imagine how I feel about the
prospect of wasting more time with more dumbsh*ts. I've only got one
life, as far as I know, and I'd prefer to spend the rest of it not
putting up with unnecessary crap, where at all possible. I'll take
this one step further and say that I would also prefer not to
find myself giving another person unnecessary crap, just because
they're such an ass-kissing little b*tch. Remember, kids, it's hard
to respect someone who's kissing your ass.
Yes, I know that I'm Not
Getting Any Younger and I Don't Have Very Much Time Left and If I
Don't Find Someone Soon, It Will Be Too Late. Because men are like
bananas or something – yeah, actually, they are. By the time you
get to the shops, all that's left are the black ones and the green
ones, ha ha ha.
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That's not racist, it's a metaphor. ~ Steve Hopson |
But I digress. The next time
you're down at the supermarket, trying to choose between the
under-ripe and over-ripe bananas, look around for a second at all of
the weirdos who have managed to find True Love. That's right – and
what am I? Hot, goddammit! I'm sure when the time comes, I'll be able
to find someone with two eyes and all of his teeth. Fear not.
Of course, maybe the time
will never come. Maybe it won't come until I'm all old and fugly
myself. I don't want kids, so it doesn't matter. When I'm damn good
and ready, and not a moment before, I'll go down to the supermarket
and chat someone up while I'm buying bananas. Two birds, one stone.
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And daiquiris. ~ Chilli Club |
Encouraging Me to Move Too
Fast
I'm going to call it “moving
too fast” even though what I'm technically talking about is moving
in too fast. A friend once tried to tell me that the deadline for
moving in with a man is six months. As in, “You'd better be living
together by six months because men won't wait much longer than that.”
Wait...what?
I guess it's normal for a
couple to move in together after, like, two months, but I guess it's
also normal to have a bad, bitter break-up and block traffic by
throwing your ex-partner's crap into the street, only to have them
make a Facebook profile under your mutual child's name and pretend
that a six-month-old can type, and that nobody knows it's really them
making douche-y remarks about you on a public forum. I wish to avoid
this kind of thing.
Even without the drama,
cohabitation is a f*cking big deal. When it happens, you sort of
start to melt together like a weird f*cking sci-fi monster with two
heads and no shame. Some people even go to the bathroom in front of
each other, for f*ck's sake. I mean, if someone's gonna be watchin' me piss, I've gotta be damn sure it's for the right reasons.
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Not tonight, I've got a headache. |