Thursday, September 27, 2012

Hollywood movie

  I like to pretend my life is a Hollywood movie. Everything would be a lot more glamorous. I would be played by someone better looking-possibly Renee Zellweger or Michelle Williams. My dates would all be better looking, too. I like to keep my options open with lots of potential dates, so I always have a minimum of 3 guys that I message/text. So, let's pretend it's a Hollywood movie and I've actually found someone. We're going back in time ala How I Met Your Mother or that awful Ryan Reynolds movie with Rachel Weiz and Isla Fisher. Who do I end up with?
-Ned (played by Karl Urban). He's 26, works at part-time job and goes to school for something. Gimme a break, I haven't met him, yet. We have a lot in common and have a date coming up.
-Nelson (Ryan Gosling or Lee Pace). He's 34 has an adorable 4 year old daughter. He works as a technical editor. I don't know what that entails. I just roll with it. He's quite the gentleman and can cook like a fiend. Also, haven't met him. We text a bit.
-Nicholas (Jamie Dornan). In his thirties, works as company doing online publicity ( I think. I never pay attention to what people actually do for a living). He has a boy. We had one really great date. He took me to a hip bar, paid for everything and walked around with me. He gave me a hug and wants a second date.
-Rick (James Franco or Billy Corgan). He's 34 and works as some type of engineer. Has a dog and a hot tub. We talk incessantly on the dating website. He's flirty, but still a gentleman. I tend to like him the most which tells me he might be the worst for me. That's just from my general man experience. I get all giddy when he messages.
-John (Robert Downey, Jr.). He's 34, works part-time as a cook, suffered brain damage in an accident 5 years ago. Talks non-stop about sex, which can be quite exhausting. We talk a lot.
-Spacey (James Franco, a very dirty Tom Hiddleston or the fried pot guy from Cabin In The Woods). He's in his late twenties, owns a house, but doesn't work. He's really nice, but really fried. His house is straight up 1970's. Absolutely no aspirations in life, but amuses me.
  I think that's it for now. Seriously, who would you choose if you were me? I'm awful at this. I can't choose the right guy if my life depended on it. Do I give up now and become a nun or a cat lady? Is there any potential with any of these men? I'm in the dark here. I might as well try to solve the mysteries of the universe while I'm at it. Maybe I can pick the right guy and find out who killed Kennedy.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Amelie, Emma and Erin

  One of my favorite movies is Amelie. Perfect from start to finish. Basically, a very sweet, French girl who tries to make everyone's life better but has no idea what to do with her own. Sound familiar? Yes, it's also the plot to Emma and my existence. My mom said when I was a baby I went around taking care of other kids. To say I have a big heart is an understatement. I'm always super-concerned with everyone's happiness to a ridiculous extent. I've been told I give really good love advice. Funny, because just like Amelie and Emma, I don't know what the shit I'm doing in my own love life. Why this is, I'll never know. It's like trying to analyze your own dreams. Friends always come to me with relationship advice and tell me I'm dead on with my assessments. Maybe I should be a relationship therapist. That's until I get on Dr. Drew or something and they question me about my own HOT MESS life. I'm pretty sure that they weren't hung up on a guy that cheated on them, either. I really need to shut it and move on. This is beyond stupid. I'm so sick of thinking about him, I can only imagine how everyone else feels when I bring him up.
  I've had friends offer to fix me up. Usually though, when that happens, the person is not attractive. It's always "Oh, he's so nice. You'll love him". Translation- he's not cute. Listen, we're all pretty shallow. Admit it. We like shiny, pretty things. I'm not saying I can't be attracted to someone not pretty. I've had relationships before based on things other than physical appearance. But, I'm like that fat guy that lives in his mom's basement. I'm going to ask the hot girl out in case it works. It's like the lottery. Shit, I might get a hit. Honestly, I think I'm to the point of accepting a set up date from someone. I obviously cannot make good decisions for myself. I need a love guru. A wrangler. Anyone want to be my Amelie? That's like asking if anyone wants to clean up the BP oil spill. I need Kevin Costner.

Saturday, September 15, 2012


  I think I'm officially confused by metrosexuals. I blame living in Wheeling, WV. I'm used to being around beer drinking, gun-toting gruff men. I can't recognize a normal metrosexual. I've been on dates with three of them to mistakenly think they were gay. Gay and not realizing it or gay and not wanting to admit it. I realize I'm, in fact, wrong about my assessments. Seeing a well-dressed, thin man with a not so deep voice has thrown me off. I called gay when they were only metrosexual. No wonder they kept looking at my breasts all night. They were straight! They kept texting me after our dates. BECAUSE THEY WERE INTERESTED! I'm a true dunce when it comes to men, I swear. But, of course, since they're well-adjusted men without hang ups and possible mental problems, I do not seem attracted. I think I'm turning a new leaf though. I'm starting to change. Maybe it's all the Doctor Who I've been watching. He fits the profile. Maybe I should give the metrosexuals a chance. I think I should pull a George Costanza and do the opposite of what I feel for a day and see where it gets me. It seemed to work for him. They seem to be interested in actually talking to me. It's refreshing for a change. I'd like to think there's some merit in talking to me. Like I said, I love having someone be attracted to me. I'm always amazed when anyone finds me attractive. But, when it's only that, it's empty. I think I have so much more to offer. The other day, I found myself just wanting to sit on a porch somewhere, drinking a pumpkin beer and talking to a man. Just talk. How great would that be? I feel like the molecules have changed. Change is happening. I can find what I want.

Monday, September 10, 2012

Hey girl....

  A good bit of my day was spent oogling a picture of Jon Hamm that my friend, Amy sent me. What's so unusual about me staring at Jon Hamm? Three facts- he's holding his girlfriend's hand, he's shopping and wearing some tight, revealing pants.  Could he be more perfect? Seriously. Damn. As if he wasn't attractive enough. I knew he was funny from being on SNL and various podcasts. Now, I have to accept that he's SENSITIVE AND WELL HUNG? Too much. He's dashing my man expectations. Normally, that's a literary thing. It probably started with Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights. Sensitive, brooding, manly man. Recently, women have had their perspectives skewed by characters like Edward from Twilight. He would do anything for Bella. Ridiculous. Men aren't like that. They're more like Mr. Big. They step all over your heart. I can't accept that there's some real world man who is this perfect. How am I supposed to accept regular men? I think the last guy to hold my hand was Herpes. It wasn't that sweet. It was probably self-serving. And, no offense to any former lovers/boyfriends but none of y'all even come close to Jon Hamm. And then there's Ryan Gosling. Don't even get me started. Half of the memes out there about him are true. Where are these men in real life? Do you think Ryan Gosling sends out penis pics? I think not! Do you think Jon Hamm's girlfriend tells him about her bad day and he responds with telling her how horny he is? NO. He's a damn gentleman. I can find sensitive men, but they apparently can't keep it in their pants. They drown their sorrows in another woman's vagina. It's bullshit. Oh, I meet sensitive men in real life. I suspect they're gay. So far I've been on two dates where my gaydar went bonkers. They couldn't take their eyes off my chest. I heard that gay men love boobs just as much as straight men. I'm confounded. I can't take these celebrity sightings. Chris Hemsworth cradling his newborn child. I need more pictures of a drunken Kiefer Sutherland with a rose sticking out of his pants or an angry Sean Penn. Reaffirm what dicks men are. With smaller penises, too. Dammit, Hamm. You've spoiled me!!!!

Thursday, September 6, 2012


  I've been profoundly depressed lately. Nothing is going right. I have no one to confide in. Men only want to talk about sex and women seem to hate my guts. I have a male sense of humor which doesn't coincide with women. I've offended two good friends with my sense of humor. It sucks. I try to talk to men, but they ONLY talk about sex to me. It never used to be this way in my relationships. I used to have male friends. I used to be able to talk to romantic interests about other things. These guys I've encountered lately only talk to me about sex. It's exhausting and depressing. I really love sex, but, damn, time and a place, bro. Men and women are hardwired very differently. Men have a bad day- solution? Masturbate. Women have a bad day- solution? Cry. I cried for two hours straight last night. I look like E.T. after a prize fight with Tyson. I tried talking to the guy I'm interested in last night. Every response was sex related. No joke. I'm exhausted and mentally drained. The LAST thing on a woman's mind after a rough day is sex. I just want to actually talk to someone. I'm SO depressed. So depressed. Ever waking second. The only time I seem to be happy is when I have V around. Everyone seems to hate me at work. I give up. I truly do. The only man who actually talked to me about something other than sex was Patrick. He was astonished at how depressed I was when we last talked. Oddly, he is the major cause of this depression. Vicious circle. I read a lot and sleep a lot. I try not to think. To be the five billionth girl to quote Florence Welch- " I can never leave the past behind". Every day, I tell myself that I'm going to "bury that horse in the ground". I can't recover. I can't get past anything. Honestly, I'm probably just hung up on Patrick because he's the last man to listen to me, hold me, look at me compassionately and desire me all at the same time. Now, I get desired. That's it. Which, I love, at times. When you have low self-esteem, being desired is very great. It's empty, though. I get many texts from men and here is the extent- penis pics, middle of the night calls desiring sex, attempts to get me into bed and sex talk. My soul is so lonely. I miss Amy, Bethany, my grandparents, Patrick, seeing Viggo everyday, happiness, looking forward to something. I miss feeling good. All I have is escapism. I'm running from myself. Moving back to West Virginia was the absolute worst decision I've ever made in my life. I lost my marriage and child. The only benefit was making new friends, most of which I never see and the ones I do, dislike me. It is what it is. I'm trying to change the circumstances.  That's all I can do. For now, I'll just cry a lot, sleep a lot more, and read to escape.