You are Found Guilty of Gaslighting and Sentenced to Embarassment

I penned this post back in January on my phone in Penn Station after a conversation with a boy made me absolutely furious.

At the time, I didn’t have the balls to press post. Now I figure why the fuck not. So here ya’ll go.  

 

Let me pull a Taylor Swift blog style for a moment.

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Ever since the conception of Twenty Something What is my life and the first post I ever penned about “I’m Sorry” gifts, I’ve been on and off reeling from a rather interesting encounter with a supposed textbook Southern charmer from North Carolina. He is the mainly guilty party in my Hall of Lame I’m sorry gifts post.

Let me give you a quick profile. Thirty years old, small southern accent, works in the food industry and I met him in a bar that he managed. Super polite to everyone, but you’d never peg him as a huge ladies man. Initially perceived as a very sweet and nice guy that was raised to be a gentleman.

On top of being a liar, he is also guilty of gaslighting. For those unfamiliar with the term, it refers to an asshole who does something warranting a rather negative reaction. If said reaction makes them unhappy, they feebly attempt to make you feel bad about it. Gaslighting aims to make victims doubt their own perceptions and feel guilt.

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For those that need a more substantial example let’s say Mr. Charmer practically BEGS you to be exclusive with him, and as soon as you decide to not use your charm, sass, and boobs to get drinks and flings with other guys, his list of highly questionable actions start piling up. The sequence of events is as follows.

1. Charmer decides to bring me and my girlfriend to a friend’s house after meeting up with several people at a bar. Call it an after-party of sorts where I am meeting his friends for the first time. More people come to the house, including his friend of the female variety who I had met a few weeks previous. I met her, she met me, and we exchanged the usual pleasantries before he privately explained to me that they had never hooked up… ever. She comes in and I smile, and I am met with a look of drunken disdain. Girl was throwing shade like Regina George.

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Oh well, hello to you to. Well I brush it off since I’m in a 4loko haze and there’s the sweetest dog at the party that I’d rather hang out with anyways. My next question is why Charmer and this bitch are in the bathroom for an hour? I guess Charmer didn’t let his friends in on his manipulations, because it’s one of them who told me the truth about the two having previously dated.

Charmer spends the next 30 mins wondering why I’m not going anywhere near him and why I’m leaving the party. He insists they were “just talking” and for the next few weeks, continues to tell me nothing happened.

2. Then comes the actual sleeping with this girl, while we’re supposedly exclusive. I find out from her, not him. In fact he goes a few weeks without telling me. She also confirms my suspicions on the bathroom incident and when I bring it up, Charmer claims he really did not think anything happened, and that he didn’t find out the truth until a few days later. Apparently, he was really just THAT drunk.

3. He begs to be let back into my life. He actually wants to be my BOYFRIEND. He decides it’s worth cutting all ties with her even when I refuse to stop seeing other guys.

4. For a few months, he’s attempting to win me back, and in some cases it’s working. I refuse to be completely exclusive, but I rarely have time to spend with anyone else. I don’t think I can handle him talking to her again and he tells me he won’t. He tells me I’m the first girl he loves and that I’m the one. I take it with a grain of salt, even if I secretly wish he was being honest. I make it clear that any evidence that he’s speaking to her and I walk out the door.

5. I find out that he’s been texting her behind my back. BIG SURPRISE. I give him up.

6. He starts sending me I’m sorry gifts when I move to Boston.

7. I blog about it.

 

It wasn’t until yesterday that he discovered my blog post. The reaction to me calling his gifts pathetic and selfish set the following conversation into motion:

Charmer: I’m not sending you anything in the mail. I’m not trying to make you a true piece of artwork that I try really hard on and have it mocked on your blog. Maybe later when you think I’m no longer sending you “I’m Sorry” presents. Those were things to just make you smile and start your day off with a hit. I said I’m sorry, I don’t need to give you gifts for that.

Me: I dislike getting your gifts because every nice thing you do for me is in some way for you to feel less bad about what you did. Did you ever try to make me smile when it wasn’t after you did something horrible to me? No. The first nice thing you did for me was after the bathroom incident. The second? After you slept with her. Sending me the flowers? After you texted her. While we were together? Nothing.

Charmer: I’m trying to show you that I care.

Me: So you didn’t care for me when everything was fine and I wasn’t halfway walking out on you? You should’ve showed me you cared by NOT lying to me. I guess buying me flowers is a lot easier.

The conversation becomes circular. He keeps claiming he loves me and cares for me, while I start getting furious. I just want him to stop the word vomit! I hate word vomit… especially when it’s of the bullshit variety.

Charmer: I didn’t realize the damage I was causing when I did those things.

Me: Are you stupid?

And the gaslighting begins.

Charmer: Conversation is over if you’re going to start calling me stupid. I wish you could believe me when I tell you that I loved and cared for you but I know everything I did counters that.

Me: You lied to me? That’s stupid. You’re stupid because you did the one thing I said would result in me leaving and then bellyache about losing me. A stupid person counter acts what they want.

Charmer: Have a good night.

BUT ladies and gentlemen, it doesn’t end there. The gaslighting continues.

Charmer: I ask you not to call me stupid in this conversation and you do the opposite. I’ll talk to you all night and day about what happened to us but I’m not going to be talked down in this manner.

Me: If you don’t want to be a liar, don’t lie. If you don’t want to be a cheater, don’t cheat. If you don’t want to be called stupid…. you can get the idea. And I wonder how it feels when someone that supposedly cares for you does the exact opposite of what you ask…. hmm…

 

GASLIGHTING: Blaming me for calling you stupid… when stupid is as stupid does.

 

 

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LDF: Long Distance Flirting is STUPID

I’m going to give myself this. When it comes to relationships I’ve hiked through a lot of bullshit and back, almost to the point that I have sworn off anything serious for quite some time.

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But I still trek through, knee deep in horse shit, and experienced a semi-pseudo since sophomore year of college HUNGER GAMES of a relationship, cheating, and guys applauding me when I lost 25 pounds and had some serious self image issues. All of this, wishing blissfully for fucking NORMAL, whatever the hell that is. But I do know it doesn’t include fucking mind games, sexting your ex, or making your other significant other feel like they are a parasite sucking out your lifeblood rather than someone that you appreciate and share a nice co-dependent relationship with where parties put in the same fucking amount of effort holy FUCK I AM FURIOUS.

Anyways……..

Most of the above is for another time (sorry guys, but it’s STILL too soon for me tell the story of my experience as the MockingJay in the arena of friends with benefits, shit gets complicated, guys want what they can’t have death trap which I certainly don’t remember volunteering for).

I’m going to go share my experience with Long Distance Flirting and how it is JUST AS STUPID as volunteering oneself into the Hunger Games. It’s been over a year since I landed in Bahston and I never thought the first boy I would meet would be a Canadian that my friends endearingly called Canada Boy.

My first weekend, my roommate and I head out to a bar that would eventually become my stomping ground for the next year because they serve these wicked huge beers in 32oz mugs for $cheap. We are standing, next to a group of four guys and casually we succeed in striking up conversation about how they are all from Ottawa, and have traveled to NYC, Philly, and Boston in a USA tour of some sorts. Fast forward and Canada Boy and I are separated from the group to talk about sports and this kid is making me smile like you wouldn’t believe.

2xfast foward and he spends the night, while my roommate semi-kinda hooks up with his buddy. We talk about experiences and he explains that he had this ex that cheated on him, and a month before meeting me he was considering giving her another chance, when he sees her at the club making out with another guy. I share stories, and we both explain that we’re finished with cheaters.

3xfast foward and after he asks, we’re hanging out on what happens to be the last night he and his friends are spending in the States. How sweet. A follow up date after meeting at a bar? Mind blown.

Then what commences is 7 months of talking EVERYDAY with texts peppered with “you’re not like girls in Canada. You’re amazing and I’ve never met a girl like you. Move here and I’d be the happiest guy on the planet.” And of course his favorite line, “I miss your smile. I can’t wait to see it again.” Well I guess that last line was true because in that time span, he drove 8 hours to see me three times. We would spend our days walking the city, shopping, going to restaurants at the seaport, enjoying the Brazilian steakhouse in Copley, walking by the waterfront, going to Pourhouse to stand where we first met, and enjoying a Patriot or Bruins game. Before he would leave, he always left a sweet note on my desktop, talking about how much fun he had and how he couldn’t wait to see me again. He’d also surprise me with a Thank You gift: an Alex and Ani bracelet that he saw me eyeing, earrings that he noticed I didn’t have, cannolis from the North End, or chocolates and flowers.

So of COURSE I’m left thinking “holy crap, this guy doesn’t even see me and he appreciates me more than anyone I’ve ever met.” I was also left wondering how his She-Devil ex could have treated him the way she did. After 7 months I thought to send him a joint Christmas/early bday present because he needed to feel appreciated too.

Anddd then about a week and a half after sending that, there is a picture of him and her celebrating his bday together in early January.

BOOM! Yup that was the car of inevitable disappointment HITTING ME for ever engaging in LDF.

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So I do what I typically do in scenarios like this. I distance emotionally. I may still talk to the guy, but no more telling him I miss him. No more answering his texts when I should be focusing on meeting someone that lives in the same god damn country for Christ’s sake. And let’s get this straight. Distancing myself emotionally isn’t an IRRATIONAL thing. It’s fucking necessary, and if you’re going to look at me and say I over reacted then tell me what’s more irrational. Still pretending there were feelings there or moving on? Yeah so all of you on the girls always act irrational train… GO FACK YAHHSELVES.

My new found indifference is met with “why don’t you talk to me as much anymore? I always smile when I see your texts you but never text me first anymore. I have time off next week, what if I came to visit. I miss your smile. We just ran into each other, if you want me to delete her off of Facebook I will.”

No… I don’t want you to do anything. I’m annoyed because I’m putting emotional coin into this and she’s the fucking one that gets to take you out on your bday. Naturally LDF IS FUCKING POINTLESS.

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You may be thinking, “But, LDF is fine as long as there is a mutual understanding that both parties can do whatever they want after they separate. They should just enjoy the time that they have together when they visit each other, and then understand that only disappointment can come from actually caring for them since they will never be a couple.”

Well, I kind of have a secret to let you in on. I didn’t think it was necessary to expose on my blog to people like you because I thought it was obvious. But as time has gone on, I now feel the need to let everyone know in my public forum something about myself.

I.am.human.

YASSSSSS I am a human. I smile when I’m happy, and get giggly when I’m drunk, and cry when I’m sad, and dissapointed when my dreams fall apart, and determined when I go to the gym, and stressed when something feels beyond my reach.

So naturally, I smile when I meet a cute guy, and smile even more when said guy starts showing interesting, and I’m happy after our first kiss, and can’t stop laughing when I find him so perfectly funny. I get scared when I realize my feelings are stronger, and disappointed when I realize my effort isn’t being recognized, and feel quite sad when I get rejected that maybe I MAY even fucking shed a tear or two or three or fucking hell, a god damn river.

But the story doesn’t end yet. Canada boy decided to take a week off and come to the States to visit me, and I say sure. He arrives on a Friday and plans to leave the next Saturday morning, his longest visit yet. Well we got to Wednesday night when he receives a text from She-Devil while out of my room and his phone is sitting on my nightstand.

Homeboy doesn’t try to explain shit. I calmly ask, “are you going to look at that?” and he replies “I don’t want to, I know you’re disappointed.”

Yup. Yup. Sounds about right.

Canada boy doesn’t explain himself, and to be honest, he doesn’t need to. Because let’s face it: it’s LDF. Even I can admit I cannot be angry about this and hold it against him.

What I can do is tell him to pack his shit and leave in the morning, and just leave me alone for a bit because I am swearing off LDF. So I did.

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And then I blogged about it.

 

To Court or Abort: The Five (and a half) Stages of Courting

While I’ve had my shares of heart break, mistakes, both rational and irrational instincts, spazzes, and successes; I’m self proclaimed as being able to give some stable and sound insight (I’d rather not call it advice just yet) into the world of dating. Ironically, I’m not in any stable relationship at the moment, yet am enjoying being alone for the time being. What is my life?

This post comes in response to a conversation that has lasted over the past few days with a friend of mine. Last week, she had gasped over a surprise text she had received from a male acquaintance of hers expressing his interest in taking her out on a date after they had a brief run in the day before. Within the half hour, a date was set for next Friday at a Venezuelan restaurant. Fantastic; she has a suitor.

A few days later, the conversation came up again as my friend had to explain to her suitor that she had to delay their date on Friday a few hours. As the conversation continues she exclaims, “I just want to be courted!”

But wait, isn’t flirtatious texting and setting up a one on one over empanadas and candles considered courting? The answer is yes. So I took it upon myself to explain the Five and a Half Stages of Courting:

  • Stage Point Five (.5): This stage doesn’t even get a whole number since it could potentially lead to pure friendship as well as happily ever after. I categorize this stage as the communication gates opening and whether they flood or not is up to either parties. This first text can be recognized by the unknown contact number at the top of the screen as well as the text containing the first and last name of the person that you just gave you’re number to. This may or may not be followed up with an “It was great meeting you tonight!” and an emojicon smilie face.

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  • Stage One: Stage one is what brought about this whole conversation with my dear friend. Stage One occurs when the courtier suddenly makes his true intentions fully aware. All of a sudden you realize that they find you attractive, and want to set up a date over some Taco Bell (oh wait… that’s just my fantasy isn’t it). Basically it’s when the texting comes from a place of intimate interest and is not just platonic, hence the whole number. Hold on to your seats ladies in case you’re potentially blown away by his stunning good looks, witty quips, and perfect biceps.
  • Stage Two: Stage two marks the commencement of the face-to-face courting and can be identified with the first official date. Instead of hiding behind your phone or Facebook, both of you are finally gazing into each other’s eyes over cheesy gordita crunches (I swear I’m not starving or anything..) All of a sudden there are other factors that you need to take into account. How excited where you before you embarked on this romantic outing? What are you wearing?

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Does their breath smell, did they pick up the tab, are they going to hold your hand, and what about that kiss goodnight??! Stage two can bring on all sorts of emotions such as excitement or anxiety, but what it really attempts to bring about is the reality of whether or not you two click.

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  • Stage Three: This stage is the post-date communication which is usually more frequent than the pre-date communication if Stage Two went swimmingly well. Commonly used phrases in Stage Three include “I couldn’t stop thinking about you today”, “I can’t wait to see you again”, and “Let’s try ______ next time.” Stage Three typically eludes to a next date and possibly more. Communication, like I said is more frequent, possible daily, and all of a sudden the flirtation meter rockets off the map.
  • Stage Four: Eventually if you like the person it’s bound to happen. Stage Four is when it all gets physical. All of a sudden you’ve added a whole new set of insecurities into your courting. Hopefully things go will in between the sheets so that things can go really well out of them.
  • Stage Five: The last stage is where you might as well be dating, but you haven’t made it official yet. In regards to my last post, he’s your franchise player. You stay over each other’s places on the weekends and maybe even have a toothbrush on their bathroom sink. You have dinner dates AND make out dates. You text flirt the crap out of each other and you’re inching closer and closer to putting on the labels.

That about covers that. You let me know if there are any outstanding questions.

From Court side to Bar Side We’ve Got You Covered

No one can help but refer to dating as a game; a ritual demanding the players to analyze moves, strategize, make plays, and juggle both an offensive and defensive strategy. Coaching can even be involved in the form of noisy, intervening friends and family members. Everyone has their franchise player, the All-Star. The guy that they see at least 4 days out of the week. Just as so, they have their bench players who can be called into the game when the franchise player fails to perform at their potential. The rotation of players never stays the same, some come and go, get traded or retire, but the games continue, the league goes on and everyone has the glint of a possible championship win in their eyes. In most cases, that long awaited for win comes with a ring.

Each player has their play- I mean, dating style. The guy that hits on girls unabashed with his eye rolling pick up lines would be considered an offensive player; perhaps playing the position of forward. He is determined to score; many times on different girls, and after doing so can be seen doing a victory dance or perhaps giving out high fives to his teammates.

Being girls who enjoy watching athletics as well as being in the throws of dating, Danielle and I can’t help but find the resemblance between our love for the game in both meanings of the term. From our observation, many comparisons can be made between the NBA (it’s players and teams) and dating, and we are just weird enough to post our thoughts. What is our lives?

So here we have it. The Roster.

Geek turned chicThe team which I am going to be keeping my eyes on for the 2013-14 NBA season will be the Brooklyn Nets. The 2012-13 season was a struggle for the team both in performance and identity. Like a freshman trying to see where they fit into the big leagues of college, so were the Nets trying to secure a head coach and getting a team together. Well, now they have Jason Kidd and the most promising team to date. 2013-14 should prove to be a fantastic campaign marked with wins and success right? Well possibly, if the team and it’s players perform up to their high expectations. But, as many romantic teenage comedies have proven to us before, no matter how drastic the physical appearance of the gawky introvert is, their true colors always shine through. What they are lacking is chemistry, and what they have an abundance of is age (Current record 3-7).

Commitment Issues. If you’re looking for a guy with problems putting it all in on a relationship, look no further than Derrick Rose. The 2012-13 “will he wont he return after his torn ACL” player is the HARDEST to get a commitment from. Just ask Adidas, who launched “The Return of D Rose” marketing campaign on August 15, 2012. Unfortunately for them, D. Rose didn’t return until October 16, 2013. He’s great at game-planning for the offensive despite his low shooting percentage. But what does Derrick Rose and a true commitment phobe have in common? They command constant defensive action. Now that Rose has committed to the Bulls this season, he’s ready to win. We can only hope that the commitment phobes that we date can do and achieve the same.

The Wing Man. Assisting on the court is much like assisting at the bar. A widely, misunderstood perception is that anyone can be a wing man. If you were to bring out your most introverted, geeky, and self conscious friend who has never even spoken to a person of the opposite sex, let alone scored before; they will not succeed in being your wing man. The player that will be the most successful at assisting you will have to have found success during the game in their own right. This season that player is Chris Paul of the Clippers. Paul currently leads at 12.6 assists per game, as well as demonstrates some “Mister Steal Your Girl” potential, dominating in steals as well.

The Player. This pick couldn’t be easier. The player is the guy everyone takes about. He always scores, beds multiple women, wing mans up the whazoo for his friends, and pisses all over the opportunity to stay loyal to one significant other in order to score with another. In this case, LeBron James is the ultimate Player. In order to score and win, James fleed from Cleveland after seven seasons to score and win big for the Miami Heat in 2010. A two time NBA Championship winner, Finals MVP, and Overall NBA MVP, James has all the accolades, recognition, status, and female fans that would mark him as the Player. Even when the Player decides to commit, he still makes it all about himself. Even non-basketball fans tuned into the ESPN special titled The Decision to find out where he would go after Cleveland. Remember that?

The One You’re Looking For. Nothing is better than finding the one you’re meant to be with. This person not only stood out as the greatest suitor but committed and performed. Kobe Bryant has done just that not only for the Lakers, but for the NBA, and the sport of basketball in general. Like the guy that attracts your attention from across the room, Kobe stood out early, being the first guard to ever be taken right out of high school. Also, any woman would chop off their left land to have a man show as much commitment to them as Kobe has towards the game. The NBA superstar started displaying his love, affection, and loyalty to the game in high school, where he would practice from 5AM to 7PM, as well as make his teammates play him to 100 points daily. Currently, he keeps track of all of his shots in practice, not leaving until he hits 400 baskets, and trains 4 hours a day during the season and even more during the offseason. That kind of commitment is hard to find, even in most marriages. Not only does this man commit, but he performs. In his 17 seasons he has earned five NBA championships. Lastly, Kobe is able to stand back and assess his relationship with the sport of basketball to make the necessary changes to help him succeed. In a post practice interview with ESPN on Tuesday, Kobe admitted that he has stopped trying to shoot over people, but rather fall back to sink his shots. While he may be slower, he is also a lot stronger. Men and Women in failing relationships rarely have the ability to assess their weaknesses and make the necessary changes to continue their success. This makes Kobe the ultimate package.

The Left Fielder. Where did this guy come from? That guy no one wants to be more than friends with, but somehow leaves with the hottest girl at the party. That’s Brian Scalabrine. He has a career-high 4 points in two minutes and the undivided love of the American people, for no other reason than the fact that he’s a slightly overweight ginger. Seriously. If he was a random white guy, we would pay him no mind, but his Ron Weasley look garnered him more adoring love than Kevin Durant can manage- even WITH Mama Durant ready for hugs at the sideline of every home game.

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The Strong Silent TypeHe may not be the life of the party. He doesn’t work well in a crowd and you never knew much about him. But once you get him alone he blows. your. mind. Ladies, let me introduce you to my super shy guy, Rajon Rondo. Doesn’t have a jump shot? He’ll learn. Versatility? No problem. Attitude? He has a ego, but he loves his sport and you’ve gotta respect a guy that works that hard. Even when he dislocates his elbow, he’ll not just aim to please you, but he’ll continue to perform better than ever quite like he did in the 2011 Semi-Finals against the Heat. Just don’t expect an outputting of hugs and kisses after a big win. He’s the type where you consider a handshake affectionate.

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Mister Big Talk No Game. Carmelo Anthony needs to put up 30 shots just to score 30 points like the guy that says he bags a lot of girls, but hits on anything standing on two legs. New York is bigger and better than him and he’s never going to be a fan favorite. He’s not that nice guy who leads the team in assists, but when you only win the scoring title because Durant sat out the last game of the season to rest up…does it even count? And I’m going to have to mention him forcing his shots as if he’s attempting to pick up girls that are clearly disinterested.

So as you read this and contemplate which player you want, are or are currently with, don’t worry. From court side to bar side, Danielle and I have got you covered.

From Undergrad to Old Lady Binghamton Alumna

This weekend, I was thrown into a rather rusty, broken, dis-functional time machine that spit me back out onto the streets of downtown Binghamton, NY. To be more specific, I went to Homecoming/Alumni Weekend at my Alma Mater, just in time to miss all the school spirit festivities. Thankfully, I still got to enjoy a drunken night at my old stomping grounds.

The experience was rather eye opening, even if they were hazy from my beer goggles. When I say old stomping grounds, I meant OLD stomping grounds. I recognized about five people out of hundreds packed into the bars on State Street. This is a stark comparison to my senior year of college, when I knew every other person by name, major, and Greek affiliation.

December will mark the 2-year anniversary of my college graduation. What is my life?

I hammered down a full-time job before I even finished finals. The same week that I moved out of my on-campus apartment I moved to North Carolina to commence “real life”. It’s been two years and I’ve had a change of heart about many different things. All of a sudden, thinking like an undergrad got me nowhere.

So let me present to you, in my second blog post ever:

What I Thought While in College vs. What I Know Now

I thought my roommates would be my bridesmaids. I know now that all my bridesmaids will actually be bridesmen because I now have a significantly higher number of guy friends than I do girl friends. That, and my roommate from college started dating my ex boyfriend while we were still living together. Needless to say she won’t be getting an invite to my nuptials.

I thought I could pull an all nighter whenever necessary. Getting a solid three hours of sleep took a back seat to my classes, homework, work outs, part time job, and partying. I know now that getting to bed before midnight is my goal on most days that end in “Y”. I’m also terrified of the day ahead if I have to set my alarm for a time that isn’t at least seven hours after my head hits the pillow. I’m going to go ahead and diagnose myself with sleep deprivation anxiety. 

I thought a fine diet included $0.25 wings at the Belmar every Wednesday followed by a beer tower at Tom & Marty’s during Trivia. Four a.m calzones at least once a weekend was also necessary since I was still awake from all the 4loko I drank during those rousing games of Loko Pong. I know now that drunk eating is the Devil, and giving into temptation will result in me crying over an empty pizza box about my lack of self control. I am now fully aware of the number of calories in a buffalo chicken calzone, and the number is frightening. Drinking the original 4loko, which is illegal to sell and purchase in the states of NY and Massachusetts, would also be a BIG mistake.

I thought I looked good in my sweatpants, frat pennies, Dorm War tee-shirts, Northface jackets and Uggs. I know now that I need a cardigan of every color. If I don’t have that color I must have it. It’ll get so many compliments at the office and I can pair it with every single black or gray skirt and pant I own.

I thought that it was taboo to hit on a guy. If I wink, lick my lips, or smile at him hard enough he will be summoned over like a Death Eater. I know now that it is not a risky move for a girl to buy a guy a drink since in my experience it has a 100% success rate for a post drink conversation. I have also found out that pick up lines, when said by a girl, are found to be indicators of a fun and interesting personality. Go figure.

I thought I wouldn’t get pneumonia if I went out in a blizzard dressed in a skirt and sleeve less top. That an increase in skin exposure paired with a decrease in temperature would do nothing to my immune system. I know now that I’m not sexy when I’m coughing up phlegm and sneezing at the bar. I also get hit on more when I’m that girl wearing a sweater. Mind Blown.

I thought drinking wouldn’t effect my productivity. I would still be able to get a 4.0 on a hangover that lasts all week. As long as I didn’t drink Sunday or Monday, I was still the scholar that I claimed to be. Plus, going to trivia the night before a test could only help. I know now that going to classes for a few hours the day after a night of heavy intoxication is A LOT easier than drinking before a nine hour work day. Drinking nights are now reserved to Friday and Saturday. If I wake up with a hangover, I know that any attempt to do weekend laundry is futile because I won’t get able to get out of bed. 

So the lessons from the past two years may be little. I will never again use bed risers, live with five girls, or drink a Keystone Light willingly. However, I am not an old geezer just yet. I’d like to think I have one more Alumni Weekend in me.

Attempting to Appreciate “I’m Sorry” gifts

I’m twenty-three, flirty, and swimming in “I’m sorry” gifts. What is my life?

What makes men feel pangs of guilt, so much so, that they have to go to the confessional that is 1-800-flowers and confess their crimes with roses, sunflowers, and baby’s breath? Even a better question, what is it about ME that makes them do this? I guess I just make men feel like bumbling, crying, regret ridden, Romeo wannabees.

An inventory of pathetic apologies in the past 4 months:

  • 1 edible arrangement. Contained chocolate covered strawberries which I guess says “I’m sorry” better than chocolate covered bananas.
  • 1 box of a dozen gourmet cupcakes with vanilla frosting. Funfetti puts the FUN in apologies I guess. Oh wait, there is no fun in apologies? My mistake.
  • 2 “I’m sorry” and “I miss you” hallmark cards.
  • 1 rose and lily arrangement in a square glass vase, with an overly dramatic card.
  • 1 bouquet of roses, sunflowers, and daisies in a glass vase, with a quote about how life starts all over again when it gets crisp in Fall blah blah blah.

I would like to add, that these gifts are from more than one sad man looking for my forgiveness. It can safely be assumed, that more than one idiot thinks that the “get out your wallet and get her stuff” tactic works.

Not only does all of this just add unwanted fat to my hips and mismatching glass vases to my home decor, this makes me shake my head and want to blog about how “I’m sorry” gifts sent by a scary tattooed delivery man is NEVER what a girl wants…. EVER. But, as the title of this post points out, I will attempt to appreciate these showerings of patheticness by listing the pros to the aforementioned gifts above.

I will never have to look for a vase again. On the rare occasion that I ever decide to buy flowers for myself, I will have a nice variety of vases to choose from. Glass vases are typically few and far between when you live with three roommates, two of them being guys.

All the Vitamin C I must have consumed from the Edible Arrangement. I did not get sick at all that week…

All the happy friends that I shared the goods with. I’m a sharer, even when it comes to sharing apologies.

Now, I’m not a heartless bitch that hates all things beautiful, perfumed, and sent with yours truly mind. Here are the reasons why I can’t stand apologies purchased online and sent by strangers.

The Cards. You might as well have tweeted me an apology. You can only fit about 160 characters on cards that accompany gifts, making the content overly dramatic. One card I received started with “You are the most incredible woman I have ever met.” I’d like to point out that I just met this now sniveling gentleman about 4 weeks ago. It also made me think of this Socratic inquiry: If I was so incredible, why are these guys dropping the ball so much? So, I’d like to point out ladies, that you should never take the message on these cards to be truth.

Materialism. My forgiveness CANNOT be bought with your credit card and SOMEONE ELSE’S sweat into making a beautiful arrangement.

Embarrassment. One arrangement arrived when I was sitting in a meeting with a client in my office. What first started as “ooohs and ahhhs” of envy, turned into voices of awkwardness as she found out they were “I’m sorry for being an asshole and yelling at you” flowers. I pictured her asking “Who’s the admirer?” and then a second later “Who’s the jackass?” The embarrassment was not due to the timing of the delivery, but having to explain the reason for the delivery. None of the guys were just thinking of me, they just didn’t want me to ignore them anymore.

The Motive. I’d like to make this clear Ladies.There is a motive behind these gifts and it has nothing to do with making YOU feel better. It’s about making THEM feel better. This is their attempt to end the silence or their tenure on the couch. In the mind of men it’s a simple equation:

Gift = Forgiveness = I’m not in the dog house anymore = I get laid = I forgot what I did

which leads me to….

Lessons not Learned. Humans can be conditioned, and this jackass was just conditioned to learn that “I’m Sorry” gifts will bring it all back to the status quo. Will he never do that again? Probably not, as long as he has some money in his wallet.

Therefore I’d like to end this post with something all women can agree on. Whether you share my opinion on “I’m sorry” gifts or not, gifts sent “just because” are more appreciated and will reap both him and her more rewards.

HALL OF LAME

EA

cupcakes

roses

flowers