Tag Archives: drama

He’s Just Not That Into You!

Ok I know this film came out a long time ago.

However, the fact that I have ADD, and, like, a life, means that I rarely get to see films, much less romantic comedies.  That said, I meant to see this film FOREVER, because it is one of my favourite books and probably the reason why all of my girl friends’ boyfriends hated me in college.  Whateva.

Anywho. The film was supa funny and is now one of my favourite films because it was hilariously awkward…in fact, it was even TOO AWKWARD at times.  Remember that I have a high awkwardness threshold friends, so when I say it was intense, I mean this bitch was whack.

Anyway, because I LOVE this book and because apparently some bitches is whack, I am devoting this posting to all my crazy bitches out there.

And in case you were wondering, my love of this book stems from the fact that I dated a guy who was just not that into me for about three years. I know, how tragic.

Well this is why I now like to run my mouth about keeping men in line, because sadly I failed to get the point that homeboy was not into me for way too long, and I know I’m not the only one who has done this.

About the book: it is set up according to excuses.  It is outlined by the excuses guys make because making excuses is easier than saying “I’m just not that into you.” As they put it in the book: He is a man made up entirely of your excuses.  And the minute you stop making excuses for him, he will completely disappear from your life.

Unfortunately, I do not know where my copy of this book is, I may have given it away or it may be in storage, so I obtained some excerpts and interpreted them accordingly.  You’re welcome.

The “He Is Super Busy Right Now” Excuse

Don’t let the “honeys” and the “babys” fool you.  His sweet nothings are exactly that.  They are much easier to say than “I’m just not that into you.”  Remember, actions speak louder than, “There’s no cell reception where I am right now.”

Calling when you say you’re going to call is the very first brick in the house you are building of love and trust.  If he can’t lay this one stupid brick down, you ain’t never gonna have a house, baby.  And it’s cold outside.

The “But He Just Needs Some Time” Excuse

Cut your losses and don’t waste your time .  Why stay in some weird dating limbo when you can move on to what will surely be better territory? Don’t want to hear it?  Fine.  Here’s the answer you’re looking for, “Hang in there, baby.  He’s not the loser everybody’s telling you he is.  If you wait and keep your mouth shut and call at exactly the right time and anticipate his moods and have no expectations about communication or your own sexual needs, you can have him!”  But please don’t be surprised if he dumps you or continues to drag you through a completely unsatisfying relationship.

The “He Is Just Shy” Excuse

Men, for the most part, like to pursue women.  We (men) like not knowing if we can catch you.  We feel rewarded when we do.

The “He Is Worried About Damaging The Friendship” Excuse

He will always be able to play the “friend” card on you.  He only  has to be responsible for the expectations of a friend, rather than the the far greater expectations of a boyfriend.  He’s got the ultimate situation: a great friend with all the benefits of a girlfriend, whom he can see or not see whenever he wants to.  He may be one of your closest friends, but I’m sorry to say … as a boyfriend, he’s just not that into you.

Beware of the word “friend”.  It can often be used by men or the women that love them to excuse the most unfriendly behavior.  Personally, when I’m picking friends, I like the ones who don’t make me cry myself to sleep.

The “He Wants To Take It Slow” Excuse

I don’t want to be “sort of dating” someone.  I don’t want to be “kinda hanging out” with someone.  I don’t want to spend a lot of energy suppressing my feelings so I appear uninvolved.  I want to be involved.  I want to be sleeping with someone I know I’ll see again because they’ve already demonstarted to me that they’re trustworthy and honorable — and into me.

Alright I think my place in Heaven has now been reserved.  Please think about these wise words from Liz and Greg the next time your lova starts acting up, and if you are into praying or that sort of thing, I’d appreciate you putting in a good word for me because I have been sinning a lot lately and I am a little concerned.

x C

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big ups to my rodent friends

Today has been a very tragic day for me.

Basically, I grew up with five brothers.  It was pretty chill, except when I wanted to talk about flowers and princesses.  Enter my need for other friends.  So, after watching a number of Disney films, I decided that if I was nice enough to animals, they’d start speaking to me and become my friends…

sadly I am still working on this lifelong quest!  Apparently creatures are quite shy!

Sometimes my deep and enduring love for animals causes problems.

Like when I spent much of my free time during college collecting mouse traps around my dormitory and befriending the ‘pests’ – my friends quite enjoyed retelling these tales.  Once they got over their anger.

Also, LIKE TODAY.

I was at work when suddenly my coworker started screeching as though she’d taken a ninja star to the external jugular.  Accordingly, I ignored her.  Thus, she got up in my grill and explained that she’d seen a mouse and was pretty much grossly overreacting.  That said, I’m not going to lie, I am freakishly afraid of bugs, to the point where I actually moved house after seeing one because I became terrified of the place.  So yeah, I’ve got some crazy related to little unwanted houseguests (a term I coined/copyrighted in France because I didn’t know the word for mouse!  Terribly cleva, I know!) so I felt her pain.

However, I think mice are adorable and awesome little friends – but homegirl disagreed and wanted to get a mouse trap.  SO I offered to go, because I wanted to at the very least find a trap that would keep my new little buddy safe until we were reunited!

This is where things get really sad, so please be prepared with Kleenex…

when I got to the store, things took a very evil turn.  THERE WERE NO ‘HAVE A HEART’ TRAPS.  At this point, I felt I had a moral obligation to my coworker who was probably freaking out like a madwoman in my absence, and I knew going to another retail location would be unfair to her and her unnecessary anxiety.

SO, I HAD TO BETRAY THE ANIMAL KINGDOM.

Believe me friends, this gave me no joy, and I feel very guilty for this harsh backstabbing of my little mousey friend.

I really feel I had no choice but I would like to request that all who read this purchase the NON-HOMICIDAL traps if you find yourself dealing with some little animals in the future, AS A PERSONAL FAVOUR, SO THE COSMIC BALANCE OF THE UNIVERSE CAN BE RESTORED.

Thanks and have a great day!

x C

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Then what? My boobs are too big?

True story–I once got dumped for loving the film from which this awesome line was taken (aka Legally Blonde). He just could not get over it.

Clearly, I do not think it is a brilliant film, but I think the message is important–kind of muffled by the fact that the main character fails to exhibit any clear sign of intelligence, but an important message nonetheless.  That is, that you should not judge a book by its cover.

My freshman year of college, I found out halfway through the year that the girls from my hall called me ‘Barbie’ behind my back.  It was very hurtful, especially when I heard some of the really malicious things they’d said.  In fact, it still upsets me…I didn’t do anything to them, and yes I enjoy the color pink, but to be so needlessly bitchy is just so wrong in my book.

My point is–I can relate to the character in that film, because I feel like I constantly have to deal with people’s incorrect premature assessments and after a while, it gets old. Like, REALLY FUCKING OLD.

What I mean is…people are constantly treating me like I’m dumb. This isn’t a projection either, because one half of the time, they’re verbally telling me that ‘it’s okay if I just don’t get it’ or something along those lines–and the other half of the time, they’re in utter shock (sometimes even telling me so) when they get a chance to see that their perceptions of me are wrong.

So I can’t figure out what it is that makes people get this impression of me.  Is it the fact that I’m actually rather dim?  Have people just been being nice to me? I don’t know…intelligence is such an odd thing, and there’s probably nothing more difficult than attempting to assess one’s own level of it.  However, I tend to think this is not the case based upon the only objective information I have, which would be testing I’ve had done by a psychologist…which indicated that I’m somewhat of a smarty.  So, granting that I’m reasonably intelligent (though we’ll never know for sure), what is it that makes people think otherwise?

I think part of it could be that I’m a bit goofy, and giggly, and as a friend so affectionately put it, ‘bubble-headed’–I don’t fancy myself an airhead, but I also don’t jump at every opportunity to showcase my intelligence.  Not saying I have this great degree of intelligence, as perhaps I’m really dense and unaware of it, but in my experience, people are generally rather eager to assert themselves in this manner.  It’s just not my thing.

Still, although not particularly serious, I don’t think my behaviour gives any indication that I’m dumb.

So what is it?

Well, I’m sorry to say it, but I think I’m slowly starting to believe that people judge books by their covers.  Maybe I am naive to have not realised it sooner?

There are many reasons why I think this, but I’ll give you one big example–I have always had the biggest problem with uber-intense math/science nerds (as in, science nerds that are +2 sds from the mean).  I say the word “nerds” in the nicest way possible because I am a total geekette and actually took offense to it when my lover questioned my nerdiness.  But that is not the point.   The point is, I’m making a generalization about my experiences with a particular group of people–a group of people whom I have found, on the whole, to be quite socially awkward, not especially attractive, and really, probably lacking in certain aspects of their lives.  This is not an analysis I made prematurely, or out of spite, as I have been dealing with these people for a long time, and I treat them as I would anyone else…and once I get to know them, most of them are really cool people.  HOWEVER, it is my belief that this particular sort of person so values their intelligence as being exceptional, and is so psychologically invested in it in terms of self-esteem, that coming upon someone who does not share their more negative traits, but does share their most valued trait, is just too much for them to handle.  Therefore, in accordance with the theory of cognitive dissonance, they decide that said person (i.e. me) could not possibly be as intellectually capable as they are.

Sexual frustration is not a pretty thing.

I’m working on a research project right now–because I was ASKED, mind you, not because I wanted to do it, because it is not in my area of expertise.  Nonetheless, I thought it would be fun–and it is.  Difficult, but fun.  However, a few of my colleagues are really not very nice to me and I don’t know how to deal with it–perhaps I am not 100% as qualified as they are (since some of them ARE pseudo-experts in this area) but the bottom line is, we’re all doing the same shit, meaning none of us are complete imbeciles.  Yet whenever I ask a question, their facial expressions and excessively simplistic explanation suggest that they think I’m completely clueless.  Just yesterday, I questioned a colleague’s (negative) analysis of something I’d done, only to have him look it over and tell me that I did indeed do it properly, and he was sorry because he’d ‘just assumed I had no idea what was going on’–you ASSUMED I had no idea what was going on?  Did you even LOOK AT my work?

MORAL OF THE STORY: DO NOT JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS COVER, BLOGGA BUDDIES

Okay, rant over.  I’m just sick of people harshing my chill, you know?

xx Charlee

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The Bubble

Did anyone see 30 rock this week?  I absolutely love that program–The Office was really the only television show I was into, and then I realised that not watching Tina Fey’s program when I have an EPIC girl crush on Tina Fey was just odd.   The point is, YOU SHOULD WATCH IT! (Or at least tivo it with sincere intentions.)

I digress.  In this episode Tina (or Liz as I believe she is called on the show) was dating this doctor who thought he was a magnificent cook, a fabulous tennis player, blah blah bnlah blah…well it came to light that he actually sucked at everything.  Everyone was just being nice to him because he’s a sexy docta!

As of late I have been having a bit of an identity crisis and this episode made me wonder if I, too, have been living in a bubble.

This started last weekend.  I had to spend time with Lover’s awful sister.  His whole family is lacking in coolness if you ask me (and just in case you DO read this my dear, please remember that loving someone does not mean loving their family! :) ) but homegirl takes the fucking cake.  She tells these exasperatingly long stories and really just rubs me the wrong way.  Generally, I make a lot of effort to avoid people that don’t please me…but this is one thing I could not get out of.

Every time I said something, it was like she had this whole story about why what I said was wrong, or how I should rethink what I said.  I mean, honestly?  I know I have a big mouth.  I know that may be bothersome at times…but I’m over it.  We all have our idiosyncrasies, and it is what it is.  Why the hell does she even care what I like?   I don’t expect anyone else to agree with me or think in the same manner…and even though I might not like certain things, it doesn’t mean I dislike the PEOPLE associated with them. Everyone is different, bitch! Come off it!

She was just so utterly bothersome, but I think I’ve made my point that we just didn’t get on well.

However, she is a bit tricky, because she succeeded in making me think about some of the things that she said to me, almost a week later–and this is why I avoid people who have studied psychology extensively.  I had a lover who also did, and like homegirl, he used his knowledge mostly for EVIL.

So now I’m wondering if I, too, have lived in a bubble which only includes people who love me…and it’s true, I really hate interacting with people whom I have not endeared myself to in one way or another.

Now I feel that many of my perceptions could just be reflections of people telling me what I want to hear!  What a horrific thought!

I think we all have our own bubbles to some extent, but perhaps some people are more insulated, so to speak, than others.

What do you think?  Do you believe in the idea of ‘The Bubble’ confusing your self-concept?  Do you think YOU live in a bubble?

I’d love to know!

x C

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best marketing strategy ever

I’m not a fan of reality tv.

I did watch the first Bachelorette and quite enjoyed it, but I believe that was primarily due to the fact that I was about 13.  Actually–that isn’t true–I’d probably watch a ton of shit tv if it weren’t for the fact that I have severe ADHD that prevents me from boob tubing it for more than about 30 minutes.  But the point is, this post is about The Bachelor.  (Accordingly, I apologize in advance if I don’t have my facts straight!)

I cannot imagine my outrage if I’d actually watched the show, but holy media saturation, batman!  I’m pretty sure that I’ve heard about what happened about 30 times within the past few days.

So, if you did not hear or are unfamiliar with the idea behind the show, the shortened version is that homeboy (‘The Bachelor’) lives out many a male fantasy with a harem of women who are grossly smitten by him from day one.  He dates them, they cry, he gives them roses and kicks them to the curb, they cry some more and declare homeboy The One.  One of these lucky women (barf) gets chosen by ‘The Bachelor’ and he proposes.

Well, this time, they did not walk hand in hand off set only to break up 8 months later.  This time, they broke up a month later.

But that isn’t all my friends.  No, that is NOT all.  Homeboy declared that he was just not that into the girl he’d PROPOSED to only a few weeks earlier, and decided that the lady he sent packing was indeed the one he should have chosen.

Disregarding the obvious stupidity of the entire ordeal, I have to say that there is no way that could be legit–as in, not manufactured by the producers of the program.  Who in the hell cared about the Bachelor a few weeks ago?  (Okay, I suppose there is a group of single 20-something women splitting their time between drooling over engagement rings and thinking about this program.)  But now, it has been getting so much attention…mostly because of the sheer ridiculousness of it, but even so, there’s no such thing as bad publicity my friends.

The dude from the show claims he simply had a “change of heart” or whatever.  I have a few things to say about this.  Number one: not only is he 32, but he has a child.  What kind of person is he that he plans to marry a woman and then ditches her for another?  I don’t really believe he would be so irresponsible with such a serious choice, especially given the fact that he is rather old and is making choices not only for himself, but for his son.  I would like to make another point–and I would like to thank People Magazine for assisting me with this:

WHAT IN THE HELL IS HE WEARING????

No, really.  REALLY.  How could 30 women be into a guy who dresses like a Fall Out Boy reject turned Abercrombie model??

I mean okay, he probably didn’t choose his own clothing on the show?  I pray this is the case and some overzealous costume designer (who is obviously oh-so-talented, to land such an enviable position!) misperceived the fact that he is not cool enough or–okay I’ll say it–young enough to pull that shit off.  He seriously looks like a fool.

I just had to let that out.

Anyway, I give hella props to the people behind this stunt because not unlike most people (since I don’t think the show is too highly rated), it takes a lot for me to think about The Bachelor and I’ve not only thought about it, but become interested in it, and even written a weblog about it.  And that, my friends, is the magic of marketing!

x C

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i like cartoons.

From the New York Post:

This has apparently created a huge controversy over the fact that the author of this cartoon seems to draw a comparison between Obama and a monkey, thereby referencing a particularly offensive racial slur.

Personally…it made me laugh.  I feel that it is referencing the killing of a lady’s pet chimp, and poking fun at another current event (the passing of the stimulus package) by saying that it is bad and could have been written by an animal.  Pretty standard stuff.  And quite funny, really.

Now that a controversy has developed over it, I do see how it could be construed as offensive…however, I only see that because it’s been explained to me by numerous people professing its racist undertones.

It’s all in the perspective.

If you’re looking for it to be racist, then yes, you can bend it to fit into your paradigm.  Likewise if you’re seeing it for what it is, a benign source of amusement.

For me, it comes down to the person’s intent–and I find it quite hard to believe that they had an intent to depict a racist message.  What do you think?

My opinion: chances are, it didn’t even occur to the author of the cartoon that it could be seen in such a way, and I think that speaks volumes about our society…and kind of makes me wish Al Sharpton and his outdated perspective would take a hike.  Just saying.

x C

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f my life

Firstly, if you have missed out on the brilliance of this website, then I suggest you check out fmylife.com!  It is quite hilarious, and totally my sense of humour, as there is nothing I find more amusing that the absurdity of everyday life.

Secondly…my apologies for being a delinquent blogga.  I spent the majority of last week paying for my one day of freedom with extreme productivity and also dealt with a bit of an internal conflict regarding the concept of keeping a weblog.  But I’m chillin’ now…so it is all good.

Thirdly, the past week or so has been overflowing with manly misadventures so  I suppose I shall update you on what has gone down!

I made the rainbow cake (which will be a tale for another day) for Mason and he kind of freaked out…he made such a big deal out of it that I didn’t really know what to say or do.  I am generally immune to awkwardness, but I didn’t really think it was a huge deal, and he acted like I’d given him a kidney.  Marley told me this was because I was ‘clearly declaring my love for him, à la Napoleon Dynamite’ (in the film Napoleon’s sidekick with a poor grasp of the English language, Pedro, suggests that in order to ask a girl to a dance, Napoleon “bake her a cake or something”).  This left me feeling like a big dork, a sentiment that was only made worse the day after Mason’s party when my coworker Theresa commented that Mason ‘looked like he was going to cry’ when I gave him the cake.  Not exactly the reaction I was going for.

This strange situation was further compounded by the fact that I had to work Saturday night–I had volunteered to work on Valentine’s Day because I’m not the biggest fan of said cheesefest and especially of the behaviour it tends to induce in Mr. Martini, although I was no more interested in spending the “holiday” with any of the other men in my life right now.  Not to mention, I knew most of my coworkers were in relationships so I thought it would be nice if they could have the night off to recite poetry and listen to Sinatra.  See, I’m not entirely bitter!

However, Mason switched shifts with someone so that we could work together Saturday night…so that ‘my Valentine’s Day wouldn’t completely suck’.  I thought this was very sweet, and was quite excited that we’d be spending the evening together–even if it were to be spent at work.  After the cake incident, though, I was a bit weirded out about this, especially since he has a girlfriend–I imagine they are on the verge of breaking up, but nonetheless, I’m not trying to spend singles awareness day with someone who is not single…

Then there’s Mr. Martini, who spent the weekend here despite my numerous reminders that I would not be available on Saturday, and true to form, planned a super over-the-top date for Friday night.

Unfortunately, one of my very best friends was dumped by her EVIL boyfriend on Thursday.  Yup, you read that correctly.  Her boyfriend of five years broke up with her right before Valentine’s Day.  I cannot tell you how angry this makes me, but I am comforted by the fact that I know karma will come back to bite him in his sorry ass.

So, considering that my friend was feeling a bit psycho-crazy, I thought it best to not leave her alone Friday night…however, I also felt awful cancelling on Mr. Martini.  So, I told him what was up, and because he is so crazy awesome, he said that she could come along.  I also felt like getting her out and about and wined and dined would be good for her morale.  And my dear, sweet, Mr. Martini was so very cool about it and even got roses and chocolate for my friend.  How nice is that?  I was really happy that he was so nice about her crashing because we hadn’t seen each other in a while and I think he was looking forward to some intense romance…but, he was perfectly kind and understanding, he even listened to my friend moan throughout the entire evening and was totally sincerely sympathetic and comforting.  It made me appreciate him so much more, because I know he isn’t particularly fond of this friend and we haven’t been on the best terms, and the fact that he was so sweet about the whole thing was just incredibly endearing.

Blah blah blah, this entry is boring me…

To sum things up, Mason and I had fun making fun of the yucky couples on Valentine’s Day, and my girlfriend joined in, as she chilled at the coffee shoppe all night so she would not be ‘drowning in an ocean of tears’ as she so nonchalantly put it.  Then, the three of us went out and drank massive amounts of tequila and continued to have a number of laughs at the expense of Cupid et al.

However, tequila has long been an enemy of mine, something I conveniently forget all-too-often, and upon approaching Mr. Martini’s hotel, I felt the uncontrollable impulse to tell the cab driver I needed to get out.  It is true, I showed up at my (ex) lover’s hotel room at 2 am on Valentine’s Day, exceptionally intoxicated.  How tragic am I?

Mr. Martini was awake and seemed pleased to see me, although I do believe he was somewhat taken aback by my drunken state as I tend to be on my best behaviour in his presence.  I don’t recall much but I believe I went to sleep straightaway, presumably after confessing my undying love and devotion to him.  The next morning, I awoke quite late and probably looking somewhat reminiscent of roadkill, to an awesome champagne breakfast (I obviously skipped the bubbly) and Mr. Martini smirking at me and inquiring as to when we were going to ‘talk about last night’.  I believe I told him “never”, and left it at that–truthfully, I kind of wish that Mr. Martini had skipped the very sweet gesture of ordering breakfast because I was probably blushing throughout the meal and really, really just wanted to leave.

But it gets better.  I arrived at work yesterday to discover that Mason and my friend had spent the night together, ‘but nothing happened.’  My friend confirmed this supposed innocence, but  it’s kind of the latest turn-off in a string of unappealing actions for Mason–not least of all because I think it highly inappropriate for someone with a girlfriend to be sharing a bed with anyone…and certainly not my best friend who just had her heart broken.  Although he tells me “she said she just didn’t want to be alone” and he “felt bad”, to me this screams of shadiness.  Perhaps I am imagining it though…maybe they’re both just oddballs. In any case, it makes me think to myself, “fuck my life”.

So tonight I must face Mr. Martini…and I am really embarrassed because I unfortunately have very little recollection of the other night.  Boo!

…f my life. :)

I hope everyone out there in blogga-land had a fantastic Valentine’s Day, devoid of drunken debauchery and intoxicated impromptu sonnets!

xx Charlee

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