Guilty with a giant G

This is going to be the hardest part of the book to discuss because sadly, this is where I stumble the most, and I am also the guiltiest. (is that a word) Today we're going to tackle he's not into you if...

He's having sex with someone else.

I guess it's pretty obvious that if a man is having sex with someone other than you, he's not REALLY into you. How do I know this you ask? Because I've had it happen. A couple of times. The thing is, and I don't think men get this, it would be so much fucking easier if you would simply state the obvious. Hell it would even be preferred if you just fucking vaporized (OK not everyone will agree with that). But when you get stupid enough, or careless enough, or just plain thoughtless enough to get caught, then we have to contend with my ego. There is absolutely nothing in this world that I hate more than being made to look stupid. I work hard. I am a well spoken, educated woman (not that you'd know that from reading this blog). I will be damned if I'm going to allow everyone under the sun to have a giggle on my tab because you've been bangin someone else behind my back. The problem with cheating is that not only are there diseases, but it's terribly insulting to any person (men included).

I'd love to tell you that I have never juggled men, but that'd be a big fat lie. I will say that as I have gotten older, I've tried not to. For one thing it's extremely tiring, and secondly my memory is failing and it gets too hard keeping my stories straight.

He's not dating you.

I hate labels. I prefer the concept of hanging out. My boss says it's my own special way of keeping my expectations low so I don't get hurt. But according to these people hanging out is not dating and therefore is not good enough for any self respecting woman. Maybe my boss is right, if I'm not really "dating" a guy then I'm not really getting dumped or having to dump him. Maybe hanging out is the easy way around it. who knows. I do know this, Amy, Leslie, and I are the worlds greatest hanger outers. I hang out great. I haven't dated in so long that I may crash and burn miserably and I hate failure.

He only wants to see you when he's drunk.

Of all of the topics in this book this is the one that I relate to the most. It was at this point in the book that I suddenly had to reevaluate every single man in my life except for my dad. I believe the clinical term for these particular men are booty calls. Actually I guess they are booty callers as I would be the booty call. I could write forever and defend this practice, but in reality, the reality that I have only recently embraced, men who call at 3 in the morning every other Friday night have no interest in you for anything other than sex. If they did, they would take you to the bar with them. The sad fact is that sometimes the middle of the night phone call is cute. Sometimes it's flattering. Sometimes, it's the much needed ego stroke. But it is always, everyday and twice on Sundays, not coming from a man who is totally crazy about you because (and this is hard for me to admit) if he were crazy about you he would call when both of you were coherent. Not one shitfaced and the other sleeping.

I have been known to make these phone calls, hell I did it on New Years Eve, but ultimately I would much rather talk to a man when I'm not and he's not wasted. Because if I can't have any sort of conversation with you when I'm sober then frankly I'd prefer you go away sooner rather than later.

On a side note, Amy comes home from Hong Kong tomorrow and I am pretty stoked about this. It is only 64 days until opening weekend of the tournament, and I wore panties to work today. For the first time in like a year and a half, and I remember now why I don't wear them. I hate them. Sorry if that's TMI.