Sep 14, 2014

Welcome To My Meltdown....

When I was a little girl I got my ideas of love from T.V shows such as Dallas and Dynasty (which I blame for my unattainable life's mission to be a rich, slutty heiress to an oil empire and probably why I roll down my window and touch myself at gas stations).  However, in my sad, dismal reality, I'm an heiress to a VHS Clint Eastwood movie collection along with a tea kettle that's been around since they found Jesus in a manger.  But that's enough of my long, sad tale. *Cue sad violin music. 

Thanks to Dallas and Dynasty, not only did I believe everyone just wore high heels and diamonds when they were lounging at home, I just assumed my life would be filled with mad passionate sex with myself, an endless supply of fur coasts and the occasional horse ride through a pasture with my millionaire boyfriend. FALSE. In fact, my life is quite the opposite of the aforementioned bullshit. If I were to compare my real life to a T.V show, I would say I'm Kimmy Gibbler from Full House meets Amanda Woodward from Melrose Place. So essentially I'm kind of an underdog/slut hybrid.  (Actually the reason I'm comparing myself to Heather Locklear in this situation is because she had sex with Jake. WHO DOESN'T WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH JAKE?)  Although no one has ripped my blouse open in a fiery passion ever in a long time (well mainly because I wear Old Navy tank tops as a wardrobe staple and I'd bitch slap someone for ripping the buttons off my Joe Fresh blouse), I really do prefer the risky "do you mind if I have sex with my shirt on" position. But still, that bitch always got some ass so I'm going with that. 

So now, 30 years later, I find myself verging on a meltdown while being permanently in overdraft, wearing only the finest cubic zirconia and really hating horses. 

Oh, and dating seriously shady fucks. How could I forget to mention that?! I just came from my most recent fitting for my straight jacket...and here's why: 

It was a dark and stormy night...

(No, it wasn't. It was actually quite beautiful out, but I was secretly hoping for a bolt of lightning to appear from the sky while I was holding my fork after commencing my 472304th date of the year). 

Okay, wait. Let me preface this story with a little message (sponsored by Xanax and a bottle of vodka). If at any point pre-date you are getting "red flags" or a "bad feeling", like the kind of bad feeling that makes you want to stick a knife in a toaster or spontaneously shave your head and buy 30 kitties, I say listen to those feelings and fake your own death before ever going on a date with someone who makes your skin crawl. 

Anyway, It was a beautiful evening and I had rushed home from work to shower for my date. I only showered since I wreaked of booze and I was quite possibly going into organ failure from the previous evening's debauchery at a dinner party, so a little water wouldn't hurt my rotting carcass. 
To break it down for you, going a date at that point was right up there on the excitement scale with getting a  hangnail and eating a plate of peas while watching an execution. But, because I'm desperate  a trooper, I got ready for my date. 

At around 7pm, (with my hair and makeup looking fierce), I get a knock at my door from my newest suitor. As I opened the door with hope in my eyes, my best fake smile, and my freshly shaved legs, I was immediately taken back as there was a tiny albino man with yellow teeth standing at my door...It was my date! It was my date who happened to look nothing like his online profile photos and was perhaps the most recent castaway from Survivor, as he looked like he hadn't eaten since his last peanut butter and jelly sandwich in grade 6.  Sweet. Immediately, in my head I thought "oh fuck no." 

Now, before you're all like "Awww poor guy! Maybe attraction can grow? Give the guy a chance!" I will tell you to politely fuck off.  Why? Well, because a few days prior to our date we got in a fight on the phone-and not over text,  like a verbal fight while we were actually talking on the phone like they did in the 1960's. 
(That's me as a brunette doodling gigantic penises).

Why did a fight transpire Nanners?? A fight transpired as he was openly planning our future without having met me, and during his disillusioned state of pre-date bliss I pipe up and say "Whoa. Easy killer. We haven't met yet." Well, as it turns out Mr. Human Q-Tip did not appreciate my dose of reality and told me he wanted to cancel our date....Oh did I mention our date was on his birthday? Yup. Red flag numero uno. Spending your birthday with a complete fucking stranger signals that you may not have a circle of friends (or a friend) or family member, that wants to be in your presence to make your day special.  

I actually didn't know that men could menstruate, but he certainly demonstrated this by then yelling " Well now I don't want to meet because this is GOING TO BE THE WORST BIRTHDAY EVER." 

After I regained consciousness and pet my unicorn, I responded "Okay. Up to you." 

Needless to say, I immediately pulled the "Well I'm tired, I should get to bed" card, and let him go. 

However, during the week after he munched on some Midol, and I was feeling lonely, I agreed to meet with him. 

Once we got to the bar, we grabbed a table on a packed patio BECAUSE IT WAS BEAUTIFUL OUT, where he proceeded to complain he was cold, ordered himself two drinks at once, got in a fight with the waitress when she accidentally brought the wrong beer, called her stupid and ranted about customer service, told me about his lack of appetite (um, yeah....because you look like you may be dying), talked about how he doesn't really talk to his friends anymore and his love of video games...followed by the longest most terrible impersonation of Gene Simmons I've ever heard.... AND making me pay $100 dollars for the bill, I  finally came to the decision that somewhere out there is a lonely convent, filled with lonely nuns that I am being called to. 

This was the date that put the nail in the dating coffin so to speak. For the past two weeks, I have now retired to a life where downloading the YouPorn's greatest hits is the most action I will be getting as I have now totally and completely sworn off dating. 

Whomp. Whomp.

Night bitches.