Just one more reason to never leave the house

Can I be unpleasant for a hot second?

I hope so, because I'm gonna.

I have recently discovered a pattern in my life. It is a pattern, I might add, that is making me want to punt small farm animals.*

A couple of particular types of men are attracted to me... apparently.

I have experienced this several times within the last few months and even more over the course of my adult life. And I'm becoming less and less tolerant of it.

For the most part, I am a fairly confident, self-assured woman. While I will occasionally look for validation outside of myself (usually just to make sure I'm not going nuts), I have a solid sense of self.

Unfortunately, I think it's this quality that gets me into trouble.

This brings us to the first type:

1) Those who want to "figure me out."

I would hardly refer to myself as mysterious (there's no way I'm cool enough to own that word), but I'm not the kind of person who wears her heart on her sleeve and confesses all within the first five minutes of conversation. Therefore, I tend to keep more personal things close until I feel someone is trustworthy and I have no trouble telling someone if I feel it's none of their business.

I also tend to be a little quirky in what I say and do, and I have no shame when it comes to these idiosyncrasies. If I decide I want a taco for dessert, I'm going to get me a taco!

Apparently, when you put these two together, I'm very intriguing to a certain kind of man.

That brings us to the second type:

2) Those who are broken and want me to fix them

I can think of four men off the top of my head who recently tried to date me while they were a) having marital problems, b) going through a break-up and c) recently divorced and still bitter.

Not only do I not date men who are married or involved with someone else, but I do NOT like projects. Just like I don't want to be fixed, I sure as hell don't want to fix anyone else.

This seems like such a petty thing to bemoan (SAT vocab word!) but I feel like I've been caught in a total onslaught amidst an otherwise very dry spell.

Is it so much to ask for a man who is single, more or less has his shit together and will just go with my oddities without trying to create a spreadsheet around them?


What kind of people do you attract?


*No small farm animals were harmed during the writing of this blog post.

For anyone who's ever been set up, stood up or felt up.

I'm getting right ready to cut a bitch.

I don't date an overwhelming amount because I am a very picky lady with particular taste.

I'm fine with this because I'd rather be on my own than waste my time with a man who I'd like to slap in the mouth with a dead raccoon every time he talks.

It starts to crawl up my ass when some of those who are in relationships (usually new relationships) want to know about my "love life."

This tends to start off with a question like, "So... anyone special in your life?"

I know this is meant with sincerity and genuine interest, but chances are that if there is someone in my life worth mentioning, I would have mentioned it.

When I respond with a polite but short answer of, "Nope. Not interested in anyone," rarely is the topic dropped.

My favorite follow-up question is, "Why not?"

What the hell do you mean, "Why not?"

Few things make me feel more like Bridget Jones than this question.

This caught my attention recently because a guy I dated last year (and with whom I have remained friends) asked about "the men in your life."

Want to know why he asked? Because he is in a new relationship! SHOCKING!

When I told him I wasn't interested in anyone, I thought we were done. However, he felt moved to press the subject, which annoyed the shit out of me.

I had a similar conversation with another male friend (in a new relationship) a few weeks ago.

Since when do men want to talk about relationships?

Can't we just go back to sports, beer and boobs?

It's about to get graphic

I would like to pose a question to my few but fantastic readers, as well as the universe in general.

What is up with men and tongue?

(I'm making this gender specific because I feel like it IS gender specific.)

Look familiar?

Rarely do you hear about women complaining because her partner isn't trying hard enough to lick her tonsils.

Nope. It's generally the other way around.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love making out like a high schooler and I'm a champion kisser. Seriously, I'm good. Just saying.

However, I have never been kissing someone and thinking to myself, "Hmm. This is great but I wish he would just put his entire tongue in my mouth. That would make it perfect!" Not once.

And what's the deal with, what I like to call, Fancy Tongue?

This is when a guy has moves. Tongue moves.

Perhaps he is licking your teeth, darting in and out or shifting from side to side like an Olympic snowboarder.

Mind you, I don't want to speak for all women. It's possible that some find this to be creative and much more interesting than the norm.

Me? I'm a sucker for tradition.

The moves, however, are so odd to me. It makes me want to pull back, slap him across the face and say, "Start over. And do it good this time."

Grammar be damned.

But therein lies the pickle.

You can't say anything. Or at least I can't.

More than anything, I want to stop someone from doing calisthenics in my mouth and say, "If you took the tongue from a 9 to a 3, you would be awesome." Most people don't respond well to that, though. I know I wouldn't.

And there's all this bullshit in Cosmo and Glamour about correcting a bad kisser. One piece of advice is to kiss the way you want to be kissed.

Okay, well if men got that concept, we wouldn't be having this problem in the first place.

Another piece of advice is to say, "That's great, but let me show you how I like to be kissed," in a super sexy, come hither voice.

Umm... I can't do that. I'm not sexy. And if I tried, I'd start laughing, the guy would be offended and the date would be over anyway. Try harder, Cosmo.

Is this just me? And is this something that men seem more enamored with in their 20s? Or is it a lifelong commitment to tasting my larynx?

The next time this happens, someone might get punched in the throat.

Didn't you see Ratatouille?

I recently went on a semi-blind date.

A former co-worker of mine decided she found a man (who will be referred to as Dirk) I would just love.

I'm normally kind of skeptical of these sort of statements, but in an attempt to be open-minded and proactive, I acquiesced.

I was told we had endless things in common, like our mutual love of travel, theater and the arts in general.

What I was not told was that he is at least eight years older than me, has children and at the time, had only been divorced about 4 months.

Kids are not necessarily a deal-breaker, and neither is the age difference. The super recent divorce, however, on top of the rest was a little more than I was prepared to handle.

I digress.

The lunch itself was fine, though not sparkling with chemistry. In fact, I was thinking that I wouldn't even get a good story out of it.

Clearly, I thought too soon.

Near the end, he told me how he used to work in an animal testing lab as a gopher. I was moderately horrified by this and I'm pretty sure my reaction was all over my face.

*As a side note, I am a bleeding heart animal lover. Whenever I watch Dances With Wolves, I get a lot more upset about the soldiers trying to shoot the wolf than I do about all the people who get killed.

Undeterred by my response, he went on to relay that there was a switch in the lab that he never used and therefore never understood its use.

So, one day he asked one of the scientists. The scientist laughed and said, "You don't work on Tuesdays, do you?" Dirk told the scientist he didn't.

Mad Scientist Guy told Dirk to come in on Tuesday and he would see how the switch came into play.

Next Tuesday, Dirk came into the lab and Mad Scientist Guy flipped the mystical switch.

According to Dirk, a mini-guillotine came out of the ceiling and was lowered on to one of the tables.

I swear, I am not making this up.

This particular lab tests the effects of drugs and alcohol on rats. Many of their tests involve the brain. How do you get access to the tiny rat brain after it's been all scrambled up on meth?

That's right. Just pop that sucker off.

My mouth was hanging open and I just stared at him, waiting for him to say something redeeming like, "And once I learned that, I quit my job and started working at the ASPCA to fight this injustice!"

No such luck.

Instead, he laughed at the absolute disgust plastered on my face and went on like it never happened.

In his defense, he was not aware of my animal affection...

...but why in the Hell would you tell that story on a date?



Note to all single, heterosexual men: For most women, rat beheadings are, in fact, deal-breakers.