Tag Archives: martinis

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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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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i am a ‘BAMF’

Hah!  Not really.

I am indeed being a rebel by playing hooky today though.  Of course this is nothing new for me, but lately I’ve been quite responsible, and this morning as I was trying to fall asleep (at 5 am), I cringed at the thought that I had to work (at the coffee shop), go to two classes, get a project done for my other job, and somehow manage to bake a treat for Mason and obviously sex myself up for the festivities tonight.  It was simply too awful for me to bear the fact that my effort was going to be a waste,  because crazy tiredness (from extreme lack of sleep), and the brain burn resulting from contributing to society all day would have prevented from enjoying myself at the party, thereby killing my buzz.  Quite literally.

So I’m being naughty, and I couldn’t be happier about it!  It reminds me of the good old days…my stoned slacker days, as I fondly call them.

I blew off EVERYTHING, and even lied about it–this is something I have never done before, because for all of my neglect of responsibility, I am nothing if not honest.  Through all of college, through all of life, I have made it a point not to make excuses for my actions, especially bogus excuses.  However, it suddenly came to me not all that long ago that part of life in our society is bs-ing.  As I believe I have said before, my main purpose in life is keeping it real, so I had some trouble accepting this.  Even when I was always getting in trouble for not doing shit and my friends were claiming their grandmothers had died, I kept my mouth shut–but therein lies the problem.  It may sound silly that I really didn’t figure this out until recently, but apparently not saying anything gives the impression that you just don’t give a fuck.  People expect you to make excuses.  I’m not even going to get into how stupid this is, but I’m happy to say that I don’t feel bad at all about lying to my bosses or prof today, because I think in the end it’s less rude than not saying anything and I’m probably doing good in terms of their egos by making them think their nonsense is important to me.

(Side note: I can seriously rationalise anything.  It kind of freaks me out.)

Well I shall continue this later as I have to go prepare the rainbow cake (hooray! I am pumped!!) and get sexed up for the soiree this evening!

Hope everyone else is having an amazing day also!! :) :)

xx Charlee

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curses!

Ladies and gentlemen of the internet, I feel as though I am cursed!  The recent turn of events in my life has me questioning the possibility of someone performing black magic upon me; I am legitimately half-way serious about this suspicion.

One recent curse is my newfound semi-ambitious attitude, which prompted me to take a job instructing undergraduates–why is this a curse you ask?  Well, I suppose the true curse is my laziness, because I took the job so late that the subjects I would have enjoyed teaching were not available and I am now stuck reciting calculus.  Unfortunately, my dim-witted arse was unable to make the necessary neurological connections to come to the conclusion that I’m not especially qualified for this position because I have not done calculus in quite some time–therefore, the lack of calculus combined with my cannabis-damaged memory has really been cramping my style this week.

So now I have tons of studying to do, as I can hardly even remember how to take the derivative of something.  That’s actually not a joke.  Sad, right? (I know there are some math geeks out there!)

Not to mention I made the poor choice of going out tonight instead of getting work done, I have to work tomorrow, and perhaps most foreboding–I must rise at 8 am.  Clearly this is the result of witchcraft.

Also, to update you on my misadventures: I texted Mr. Martini to say I wasn’t sure what I wanted from him.  Straightforward and honest is always the way to go, right?  Wrong.  He sent me a text that said: “Well let me know when you figure it out.”  Psh!! Perhaps he didn’t intend for that to come off with an air of attitude, but it did, and I’m bothered by it because Mr. Martini is usually very chill, unlike the excessively moody men I’ve had the misfortune of spending time with in the past–and I am not into it.  At all.

Things have been weird with BC as well, and I feel as though I might be in a bit over my head.  We’ve been spending quite a bit of time together and talking a lot–which is cool, because he’s a friend and I know he’s going through a hard time, and I did sort of miss him.  But, the other aspect of the equation is that we’re sleeping together and that means lots of sleepovers and snuggling and couple-y things, which I’m not altogether comfortable with.  One of my friends told me my “radar of commitment-phobia” is unnecessarily going off, and I think he was right–I have no reason to be getting stressed out over this because we’re just hanging out and having fun (even if that entails breaking the booty call code).  Right?  Right.

This is simply further evidence of the dark-sided stuff going on in my life!  (major love to you if you know what that phrase is a reference to)

Furthermore, insomnia has continued to be an intense issue for me.  Needless to say, this is very unhealthy and worrisome!  And also further evidence of my thesis.

Curses!  I am cursed.

xx Charlee

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Mr. Martini

I love him!

Well perhaps that’s a bit of a preemptive proclamation, but I was feeling as though a large part of the smitten feeling I was experiencing last night was due to the alcohol, however, as it turns out, I awoke this morning wanting to see him again today.  However I doubt that shall happen because I have tons of things to do!

Alright so a little bit about Mr. Martini–I decided to give him this name because 1)he is a very private person and I’m sure he would be upset by me sharing private details using his real name, and 2) he kind of reminds me of “Mr. Big” from the programme/film “Sex and The City.”  Although he is much, much cuter and not a jerk. :) And he loves martinis more than anyone I’ve ever met (he started drinking them when he was 17–no joke! Gin at 17…niceeee.)

Mr. Martini and I met when we were both seeing other people, and the circumstances under which we met were pretty odd, but I’m going to leave that out for now, lest I be judged for my uncharacteristically questionable decision-making.  When we met, it was truly a “love at first sight” thing–never in my life have I been so drawn to and attracted to someone completely instantaneously–of course I cannot say I loved him right away, because when we met I loved my boyfriend, obviously, but the connection has been there from day one for us.  However for a number of reasons a romantic relationship would have been inappropriate, so we became very good friends; after a while I think we mutually felt as though we could no longer ignore the intensity of the energy between us, and we ended our respective relationships and began dating.

Mr. Martini is not only amazingly cool and kind, he is truly the most brilliant person I’ve ever met–and I say this because he is a genius by even the most objective standards (to name a few–he’s been published several times, holds a PhD from a very prestigious Ivy League uni, and is all-around astoundingly well-educated and well-informed).  We met when he was a grad student and I an undergrad at the same university, and we dated until last summer, when he was spending the summer in Greece, and I was spending the summer with my family due to the illness of a family member…we tried the long-distance thing for a while, but considering our different places in life, it just didn’t seem like the best choice any longer.

Needless to say, I have never really gotten over Mr. Martini and the intense bond that we share–he is the only person whom I’ve ever felt could practically read my mind, and the only person with whom I can have lengthy conversations and never once–not even for a split second–feel bored or annoyed or uncomfortable.  He’s just a really amazing person and the first person that really made me want to give up the single life and my freedom (as opposed to other relationships where I have felt I “owed” this to the other person).

Anyway, I assumed last night was going to be a very casual, friendly dinner and it turned into something very different.  Mr. Martini was being uncharacteristically affectionate all night, and after the film (and perhaps the emotions it stirred up), and a few extra-dry martinis, he began talking about how our age difference was the reason why things hadn’t worked out–he realised I needed to be with other people, I’m so young, blah blah blah.  I do agree with Mr. Martini on the point that I’m not looking to settle down, but he followed up these comments with the fact that he’s “thinking of getting a place in town [and ‘town’ aka the city where I reside happens to have pretty much the most expensive real estate ever] so that we can spend more time together”.  Whatttt?

I wasn’t really sure how to respond to all of this, and unsure of his sincerity since we haven’t really spoken for the past few months since we more or less ended things in August.  Mr. Martini is a very casual, cool dude, so these statements were especially weird coming from him.  Luckilyy, he’s also quite perceptive because my reaction (or lack thereof) to his rather bold statements caused him to take it easy for the rest of the night.

I’m just not sure about him; I absolutely adore Mr. Martini, but it was completely odd and unexpected for him to act the way he did last night.  A big part of me thinks it might have just been the mood the film put him in, because I have never seen him act that way before.  Then again, I also have not seen him since we ended things (long story).

I am at work right now however so I really should not be writing in my weblog…I’m working with Danielle, the boss’s daughter, so she is probably going to snitch on me for slacking on the job.  Oh well.

Later,

Charlee

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