Obvious Observations

My Version of a Fairytale Wedding

                                              

You know those little girls that obsess over Cinderella and dream of one day having a giant wedding filled with poofy dresses, big hair, and lots of glitter? Yeah, I’m not one of them. The idea of marriage terrifies me more than feeding a gremlin after midnight (shut up that movie rules) and I’d be hard pressed to walk down the aisle without significantly pre-gaming that shit. But every now and again I get sucked into watching old episodes of My Fair Wedding or Bridezillas and I begin to question what my wedding would be like if hell did, indeed, freeze over.

The Dress
I will not be trying on anything with bows, flowers, or fabrics that could double as mosquito netting on a safari. It will also not be white because, well, duh. Ivory will suffice.

The Shoes
I like heels. Really, I do. But you know what I like more than heels? Not having blisters on my feet. I’ll be sporting a brand new pair of white Chuck Taylors on my “big day,” thank you very much.

The Color Scheme
All of my friends are well aware of my aversion to color and are fully prepared to wear black on my wedding day. An homage to my single days, if you will.

The Venue
Outdoors. Something at night. I’ll feel less guilty about getting wedding wasted after dark.

The Vows
The specifics would depend on the groom, but I’m thinking something along the lines of vowing to always split the cheese fries equally and to bail each other out of jail without question.

The Cake
I hate cake. Hate the texture, hate the taste, hate the cutesy crap people shape them into. My wedding would be Team Pie, all the way.

The First Dance
Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me. Mostly because I don’t waltz, but also because it would be deliciously entertaining to scandalize my guests with a stripper song. If I really want to classy up that shizz, I’ll get the instrumental version.

Image Courtesy of: Gstatic

Men are from Mars. Women are from the Opposite of Mars.

            

In case you hadn’t noticed, guys and girls are kind of different. We look different, we talk different, we’re proud owners of different fun parts. But perhaps the biggest difference between men and women is how we approach relationships.

Phone calls and crazy bitches
It’s incredibly rare to find a guy who calls you of his own free will on a daily basis. At least it is for me. But I date a lot of assholes, so who knows. More to the point, guys are much better about feeling secure within a relationship and don’t need to text a girl every five minutes to know that she’s still alive and in love (or like, or lust). Girls, on the other hand, have a strong tendency to create an infinite amount of worst case scenarios in our minds when we don’t hear from a guy, like, 12 seconds after we text him. This needs to stop, ladies. His world does not come to a screeching halt every time you send a “Hey you ;)” message, and yours shouldn’t either.

What you say vs. What you do
Women are talkers. When we have a problem with a guy, we tell him about it. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this. Where we go off course, however, is when we also expect a well articulated response from him in return. Guys are action oriented and tend to express their feelings less with what they say, and more with what they do. In his mind, he shouldn’t have to tell you that he cares about you if all of his actions are clearly indicative of the fact that he does. In other words, you should just get it. Well newsflash guys, we don’t. Sometimes you’re just going to have to bite the bullet and say something nice. We promise not to tell your friends.

Time is relative
I don’t know if this is true of all women, but I take it as a sign of respect when a guy makes plans with me at least a day in advance. It makes me feel important and like he’s aware of the fact that I may have other things to do on a Friday night besides staring idly at my phone while willing it to ring. A lot of guys, however, are less concerned with time and are perfectly happy to call a girl up at 5 pm for an 8 o’clock date.

Hanging out is not dating
I have said this before and I will continue to say it until the end of time. There is a distinct difference between “dating” and “hanging out.” A date involves going out in public with someone you like where you run the risk of people you know seeing the two of you and *gasp* realizing that you might be into each other. While I have no problem with just hanging out at home on occasion, if a guy never takes me out on a real date I’m going to become convinced that he’s either a wanted criminal or somebody’s baby’s daddy.

Image courtesy of: Explosm.net

How To: Go Out for One Drink and Stay for Ten

      

You know those nights where you’re kind of tired but your friends really want to go out and get hammered? The kind of night where it would be so nice to just throw on some sweats and watch a movie, but you know you’ll catch hell for it if you don’t show up? Yeah. It goes something like this.

7:00 pm – Receive text from friend stating that everyone you have ever met is meeting at location X at 11.

7:02 pm – Reply that you will meet them there. Going out is fun!

7:30 pm – Eat way too many tacos while watching Friends reruns on DVD. Feel full and sleepy.

7:52 pm – Get on Facebook. Scan through status updates and realize that you don’t know half of these people. Go to YouTube. Watch videos of dancing babies.

8:30 pm – Flip through channels on television. See that Princess Bride is playing. Forget about everything else.

10:00 pm – Toy with the idea of going to bed. Feel bad about standing up your friends and grudgingly get up.

10:12 pm – Fix hair and makeup. Pull on jeans that are too tight. Curse the tacos.

10:47 pm – Down a Red Bull. Make a face because that stuff is disgusting when it’s not combined with vodka.

10:53 pm – Get in car and drive to bar. Start to feel caffeine kicking in.

11:05 pm – Arrive at bar. Be assaulted with hugs by friends you just saw last night. Struggle as they pull you onto the dance floor.

11:06 pm – Stand there awkwardly while your friends dance around you. Realize you are not drunk. Suggest shots.

11:08 pm – Order one shot. Think about it. Order three more. Drink them immediately.

11:18 pm – Drunk.

11:20 pm – Pull your friends onto the dance floor. Hear Ke$ha playing and react as if you are Helen Keller and just discovered the meaning of W-A-T-E-R.

11:40 pm – Thirsty. More shots.

12:30 am – Send inappropriate text to guy you’re sort of seeing.

12:33 am – Receive text from guy you’re sort of seeing asking you to come over.

12:34 am – Send text back to tell him no. You are a tease.

12:35 am – More shots. More dancing.

12:52 am – Weird guy approaches and tries to dance with you. Give a disgusted look and walk away. No amount of alcohol will ever make you THAT drunk.

1:30 am – Friends are leaving. Realize there is a significant probability of you being arrested if you go within ten yards of a vehicle. Call guy you’re sort of seeing and ask him to pick you up.

1:47 am – Get in car with guy you’re sort of seeing. Drive back to his house. Thank him profusely by attaching your face to his face.

1:52 am – Fall off bed. Laugh. Climb back on bed.

1:53 am – Pass out.

Image courtesy of: Someecards.com

Sometimes Boys Shouldn't Have Phones

• Thumbelina received this text from a guy she hung out with one time.
• Guy: So do you just wanna fuck? I just want to fuck really quick. No kissing. Just a nice bang.
• Thumbelina: Seriously? No.
• Guy: K just askin.
• Why would any man think this would be effective?

Decisions are Hard so I Will Not be Making One

I think the universe is playing a nasty little trick on me. Granted, I’ve been attempting to improve my karma a bit lately, but this just seems too good to be true. Not only did I meet one awesome guy, I met two. TWO. Figuring I’d be able to weed out the loser after a quick face-to-face comparison (I’ve been talking with both over the phone for about a month), I went on a date with each of them last weekend and only succeeded in confusing myself more. Maybe you guys can weigh in with some opinions.

In the red corner…
We have a 6 foot tall professional hockey player who hails from the great land of Canada. I will henceforth be referring to him as Winnie. I caught up with him at his game on Friday night before heading out for a few drinks at a friend’s place. I’ll admit to not having incredibly high expectations for any chemistry, since I’m always a little wary of athletes and their egos, but was pleasantly surprised with how well we got on.

After talking for a while, we decided to try out the hot tub before settling in to watch a movie. This is pretty much the worst idea I’ve ever had because one look at him shirtless and wet caused my brain to stop functioning. Fortunately I managed to restrain myself from licking his abs or doing something equally as embarrassing. Well, at least for a little while.

On Saturday, Winnie was traveling for a road game but called me on the way there to make plans for Sunday. I agreed and then proceeded to return the favor by drunk texting him at 2 am that night to ask if he got punched in the face. Yeah, I’m awesome like that. He was a good sport about it and even asked if I would like him to come and pick me up from the bar, since I was obviously not driving. I passed on the offer, thankfully having the foresight to recognize that I would probably molest his hot ass if it was presented to me in my current state.

We saw each other again on Sunday for a few hours before I had to trek back to the city where I work and made plans to see each other again next weekend.

And in the blue corner…
We have Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome. He’s a good friend of the guy I went out on a few dates with around Christmas and is probably one of the nicest people I’ve ever met in my life. Not to mention the fact that his eyes are just sooo blue.

We’ve hung out a few times, but always with a group of people and never anything that could be considered a date. Keeping with the status quo, I invited him to come sledding with myself, Thumbelina, and my step-sister on Saturday afternoon. Fortunately he accepted since we didn’t actually have any sleds and we needed to borrow his. We ended up having a fantastic time and eventually parted ways to dry off and nurse our bruises with plans to meet up later that night.

So that evening, Thumbelina and I decided to meet up with a group of girls and Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome at a local bar for a drink and a little bit of dancing. That one drink somehow ended up being about ten and before we knew it, the place was closing for the night. It was at this point that Mr. TD&&H decided Thumbelina and I should come back to his house. Anxious to finally have some alone time, I agreed.

Thumbelina passed out fairly quickly after we arrived so Mr. TD&H and I put on a movie. I do not remember what movie it was because the guy finally worked up the nerve to kiss me and It. Was. Good.

He’s headed to Vegas this weekend but wants to go out again the following week.

It’s still pretty early in the game for any sort of decisions to be made, but I’m curious as to what another woman would do in my position. Also, the odds are fairly good that at least one of these guys is going to prove to be a huge douche, so feel free to place bets on which one you think it will be. Until then, however, this is pretty much the best problem I’ve ever had.

Image courtesy of: Natalie Dee

5 Reasons Guys DON’T Suck

                                  

Depending on your ability to, you know, read and stuff, you may have noticed that I hold a certain amount of disdain for guys who act like idiots. And while the vast majority of men that I meet end up being official card carrying douches, there are always a few exceptions to the rule. When I come across one of these incredibly rare specimens, I’m instantly reminded of all the things about men that I really like. So today I’m going to document a few of those qualities, lest I sound like a bitter man-hating harpy with thirty cats and a fridge full of Ensure.

Quality Pajamas
This may seem trivial, but I am a woman who enjoys the little things in life and that includes quality lounge wear. Unfortunately all hoodies are not created equal and mine will never be as comfortable as one that belongs to someone twice my size with a penchant for fabulous smelling cologne.

Body Heat
I know what you’re thinking and, for once, I am actually not talking about sweaty, naked, sexy times. Boys always seem to run a few degrees hotter than the rest of us and as someone who is perpetually freezing, I can appreciate having a warm body to curl up next to. And if that body happens to have no clothes on, well then so be it.

Creeper Deterrent
I’m fairly certain there isn’t a single woman out there who hasn’t been on the receiving end of an unsolicited groping while at a club with her friends. I don’t know why dancing invites this kind of behavior; perhaps top 40 DJ mixes have become the mating call of the modern day douchecanoe or something. But if you have a guy amongst your group he will effortlessly manage to deter any and all approaches from hip thrusting weirdos.

Hugs
Superior hugging capabilities are apparently carried on the Y chromosome because guy hugs are always fantastic. I’m not exactly sure why, but it probably has something to do with wingspan and the fact that I would like to see them naked.

Muscles
Holy abs, Batman. You’ll never hear me complaining about a rockin’ body. Shallow? Possibly. Ashamed to admit it? Never.

Image courtesy of: Natalie Dee

Weekly Rundown

    

Along with every other woman in Hollywood, Kate Hudson is pregnant.
This is one trend I will actively be avoiding. (Socialite Life)

Britney Spears has released her latest song.
I think it kind of sucks. Or really sucks a lot. (The Frisky)

Rooney Mara cut off her hair and pierced her face to play Lisbeth Salander.
Everybody’s bitching about how awful the American remake will be, but I’m reserving judgment. Hmmm…that’s a first. (W Magazine)

You should check out this chick’s blog.
I’m beginning to think that Krystle with a *K is the Canadian me. Or we both just attract sucky guys. Either way, her blog is awesome.

Well, it’s the weekend again kids. If you need me, I’ll be the drunk one operating the snowmobile.

Image courtesy of: Books of Adam

6 Types of Guys that Suck

            

You know what I realized today? And by realized today, I mean, known my whole life? There are a whole lot of sucky guys out there. In fact, I’d be willing to bet that for every decent man in the world there are approximately 137 shitty ones just waiting to ruin your day. And while I fully acknowledge that there are some legitimately awful women out there too, I don’t have to date them so the amount of fucks I do not give is significantly higher. Here are a few of the douche-types I’ve run into…

The Disappearing Douche
This guy is, much like the name implies, here one minute and gone the next. He’ll text you incessantly when he’s bored and wants some company but if you ever feel the urge to return the favor, don’t expect a quick response. He’ll take days to return a phone call and will be utterly confused as to why you’re so pissed when he finally decides to grace you with a reply, three days after the fact.

The Smooth Talking Douche
This guy knows exactly what to say to keep you happy and interested. The catch? He’s lying. And while this type is tricky to spot initially, you’ll eventually wise up to the fact that the only time he isn’t full of shit is when his mouth is closed.

The Cheating Douche
This guy wants to have his cake and eat it too. Which, by the way, is a phrase that I’ve never understood because who the hell has some cake but doesn’t eat it? Anyways, The Cheating Douche is never to be trusted, even if he’s standing within your direct line of sight. He’s all about the thrill of the chase and has no qualms about hitting on your waitress, your friends, or your mom.

The Lazy Douche
This is the guy who’s parents paid four years of university tuition just so that he could use his degree to prop up his Xbox in between his shifts at Applebee’s. He’s unabashedly aware of the fact that he won’t be moving out of his mom’s house anytime soon and would very much like it if you stopped asking to go to dinner or to the movies. He’s not made of money, you know.

The Addicted Douche
Initially this guy will seem like a lot of fun. He doesn’t take life too seriously, is always in a good mood, and has a lot of friends. Unfortunately, it can quickly become apparent that what initially appeared to be a bit of a recreational drug habit is actually a serious problem. It is not normal for someone to have to chug a fifth of liquor or do a line of coke before they can physically get out of bed and if you find yourself in this situation you should get out, stat, because things will only be going downhill.

The Jealous Douche
This guy indiscriminately hates every other penis-bearing individual within 100 yards of you. He hates your guy friends, he hates your girl friends, he even hates your dog. He’s convinced that you wear makeup to attract the attention of other men and would very much prefer that you stopped wearing such tight fitting clothing to the gym. He can frequently be seen shouting the phrase, “Why am I not enough for you?!?” accompanied by random bouts of crying.

If you find yourself dating one of these losers, do yourself a favor and leave. It’s so much better to be single than to settle for some idiot who treats you with no respect.

And if you ARE one of these idiots, do the world a favor and check yourself into the Douche Rehabilitation Center.

Image courtesy of: Someecards.com

NyQuil is a Bitch

           

I have lots of stuff to talk about but I’m all hopped up on cold medicine and my brain is having a sad. Considering that there’s a 96 and a half percent chance that if I write something now it’s going to involve hallucinations of demon Care Bears attacking me in my sleep, I’ll save you the time. I’m hoping to post something relatively coherent tomorrow. Well… as coherent as can be expected from me, anyways.

Image courtesy of: Some dude on Photobucket

Cures for the Common Hangover

Anyone who’s ever gone on an all night tequila bender knows that there is no cure for a hangover, much like there’s no cure for the embarrassment you’ll feel after reading the text messages you sent out in a drunken haze. Nonetheless, Time Magazine felt the need to write an article on the top ten methods for morning after relief. Spoiler Alert: Most of them are crap. Let’s review…

Water
So alcohol depletes your body of fluids, causing dehydration and hangover sad times.  The good people at Time suggest drinking a glass of water between every alcoholic beverage you consume in order to avoid becoming intoxicated. Clearly, they are missing the point.

Hair of the Dog
If you continue to drink as soon as you wake up you will stay drunk, thereby avoiding a nasty hangover. I dated a guy who had a lot of luck with this theory. His main hobbies now consist of strip clubs and AA meetings.

Gatorade
Because nothing soothes a queasy stomach like the taste of sweaty balls.

Greasy Food
I stand by this remedy, although I prefer it at 4 am when I’m decidedly drunk and looking to soak up some alcohol with a veggie omelet. Denny’s FTW.

Go for a Run
Apparently “sweating it out” will make you feel better. Not only does this idea completely negate the above theory about avoiding dehydration, but it also assumes that running is the best way to work up a sweat. I can think of much more enjoyable ways to burn off some booze, thankyouverymuch.

Take Aspirin
This might work if your hangover consists of a mild headache and some secret shame. However, if you have to put your foot on the floor to stop your room from becoming a tilt-a-whirl, you’re probably beyond the help of over the counter remedies.

Take Vitamins
Yeah. Because it’s nothing a little B12 can’t cure.

Drink Coffee
Coffee is its own food group. There is never a time when it is inadvisable to have a cup of coffee. Including when you have a hangover.

Bask in Your Own Self Pity
And then get used to the feeling of being alone because no one will want to hang out with your whiny ass ever again.

Abstinence
I hate this word and its lifelong mission to keep people from doing anything fun. You can keep your puritanical theories, TIME Magazine. Questionable decision making is what keeps life interesting.

Image courtesy of: Mark Stivers