Online Dating-Is The Guy You’re Talking To An Asshole?

You can tell a lot about a guy from the first phone call. I have compiled a list of ways to tell if the guy you are talking to is a complete asshole from my own past experiences and from friends’ experiences:

1. “So, [Name]..” “what do you think of this, [name]” “Well, [name]..” dude, I know my damn name, why the hell are you repeating it? Do you really need to do that to remember it? Do you think I need to know you know my name? Shut the fuck up with that shit, you sound like a condescending prick. Seriously!

2. If at any time the words “it takes a lot to keep me interested/I get bored easily/I dont know if you’re up to the challenge of impressing me” come out of his mouth. Hang up. Don’t even say goodbye. Hit end…better yet make sure you’re talking on a phone that can slam when hung up. (I know, archaic, but so satisfying).

3. Talks about his other dates too much, or complains about them (even worse, see above). If every story he tells is about a girl…hang up. If a guy doesn’t have guy friends, this is a HUGE red flag. One story is ok but 10 is just too many. manwhore…herpes…crazy baby mamas…all of this should come to mind.

4. Cannot stop talking. The verbal diarrhea coming out of his mouth is just astonishing in volume…If you can’t get a word in edgewise, this is a guy who really doesn’t care what you think, how you feel, how your day was….this guy thinks that he’s the only one who had a day that day and by God you will listen to him ramble on about it until he’s done.  Lay the phone down on the counter and go do something else. Let him ramble since he so clearly loves the sound of his voice. He can listen to his voice and you can do something productive, as in ANYTHING else. He will be really confused when he realizes 30 minutes later that you aren’t saying anything and looks at his phone and the call is still connected. Check periodically to see when he hangs up, then promptly delete his number.

5. Doesn’t talk at all. Awkward pauses. Vague hmm’s. “I’m just letting you talk. This is how I get to know someone.” This guy requires you to entertain him. You have to be interesting. No…obviously you two have nothing to say to each other so let’s not waste minutes. End call. Dial a more interesting person’s number immediately.

6. “Do you have any questions for me?” “What else do you want to know about me?” This guy just wants an excuse to talk about himself. Delete. Narcissism is never cute. He will never care about your likes/dislikes. He will only ever be in a relationship with himself, and his mom, who apparently told him every day that he was amazing and talented and no girl will ever be good enough. Take your Oedipus Complex and shove it, dude.

7. The guy who only calls you at random times and has to get off the phone in the middle of a sentence suddenly. Or only calls you once and then says “I would rather email or text from now on”. Or says only text him at certain times. This guy is married or has a live-in girlfriend. Unless you like home-wrecking, dropkick that one to the curb.

8. Mentions anything sexual. Any guy who comes out with “so what’s your favorite position?” in the first phone call is after one thing. Seriously? I dont even know your last name or that you’re not a 50 year old creeper, and you’re asking me my favorite sex position so you can think about it and jack off to my POF profile? Hell no. Delete and BLOCK.

9. The guy who says “Here’s my number, call me sometime” before the initial phone call. Um, seriously dude? Does that ever work for you with a normal girl who doesn’t have a desperate need for attention due to her daddy issues? Hell no, you ask ME for my number and YOU call me. That is how it’s been done since the dawn of time. What rock have you been under????

10. Any guy who says “I dont pay for dinner on a first date because I dont even know the girl! How can she expect that? That just means she’s a gold digger.” No, that just means you’re a cheap ass who probably still lives at his mom’s house. Fuck you. End call. Delete. You’re probably still a virgin with that attitude. No man gets laid without paying for dinner, or at least no man should, in my book.

I think 10 is plenty to get someone started 🙂 and remember, if he seems too good to be true, you can bet your ass he is. RUN.


Shitty Childhoods of the Middle Class Variety

I’m not going to apologize for the way I feel anymore. If something bothers me, it just does. I can’t help it. I’m not going to project and make someone else react and fix whatever is bothering me, but I won’t take it back with shit like “I know, I’m just being stupid, but..” No. Fuck that. I’m not stupid. I have every right to have something bother me, most likely because of some past similar event, and I shouldn’t apologize for it. All my life I’ve decided I need to project this image of someone who doesn’t give a shit, because then people wont know they can hurt me. I am invulnerable. but guess what? I’m not. I’m too vulnerable for my liking, but there it is. I am.

 A psychiatrist once told me I exhibit dissociative behavior. Well, no shit, lady…if you saw the environment I grew up in, you’d learn some serious coping mechanisms like that too. It was eat or be eaten in my house. You had to be tough. Shrug shit off. Nothing could beat you down, because the minute you were down, someone was gonna be kicking you. Not physically, just mentally. Verbal warfare was the norm.  The minute that household saw you going down they just kept pushing and pushing until you not only hated them, you hated yourself. You hated everything. Maybe that’s why I’m so quick to anger now. Also, at the hint of any disrespect, I react. No one is going to walk on me now. I’m an adult now. I have a CHOICE now.
Some people say they’d give anything to be a kid again. If you went through the guilt, the choices I had to make, the things I’ve done, the things that happened to me, you would definitely welcome adulthood, jobs, and bills with open arms. I’m not saying I had the roughest life. There are kids out there that didn’t have a roof over their head, thousands of dollars of orthodontia work, health insurance, food on the table, and I cant complain about any of that. I had all that. What I didn’t have was a strong support system. What I had were insults. “Tough Love” translated into “You’ll never amount to anything because you are interested in boys/giving up clarinet/not wanting to be in 4H”
 SO. I wouldn’t amount to anything because I hit puberty? Because I didn’t want to play an instrument that I wasn’t any good at playing to begin with? Because being in 4-H automatically means you’ll be a successful adult?
 I was called a whore at 13. I hadn’t even kissed a boy yet. She said she meant I was a whore because I acted like I didn’t care about anything. I was cold. Unemotional. She forgot that I had to act this way. To be tough. Just waiting til I was old enough to get the hell out of there.Then, at 14, my virginity was taken from me by an adult in that household. The smell of Dr. Pepper, stale cigarettes and basement STILL induce brief flashbacks of that out of body experience. I was there. I felt everything, but I was also separate from it. To this day, I don’t play victim. My uncle was sick. There was something wrong with him mentally. He grew up in the same environment. He wasn’t strong enough not to let it affect him. My grandparents weren’t going to ruin my life the way he allowed them to ruin his. They beat you down so you depended on them. He couldn’t hold a job. He lived with them because he couldn’t make it. He has no excuse, but I know the events in his life made it easier for him to be sick like that.
 I was not going to end up like that. I had my shell and my dissociation. I don’t talk about it like “OMG you cant say rape around me. I was raped as a kid. Poor me” No. But I don’t drink Dr. Pepper. I don’t like the smell of cigarettes. I avoid men that resemble him. I can’t watch violent rape scenes in movies like American History X or Pulp Fiction, even though I wasn’t violently raped, it’s still watching an act of someone forcing someone else to do the most intimate thing two people can do against their will.
When the truth came out, my grandparents treated me like the bad guy. Of course I was lying. I was ruining his life. My mom had put me up to it. blah blah blah. This is the WORST reaction a “victim” can get from the people who are supposed to protect and provide for them. They took my sisters and I from our mom when I was 6 claiming she was unfit and chose abusive men, and here they were, berating me for getting abused in their house. I shrugged it off. The physical exam proved I wasn’t lying, and he went to jail.
The result of that ultimate betrayal by my grandparents was to hate them and their house and their rules even more. I started cutting. Sneaking out. Talking to strangers online and meeting them in the middle of the night where I could possibly be killed. I just didn’t care anymore. My youngest sister found out and tattled and they sent me to the psyche ward.
It was like a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. I was free. The staff were kind. Friendly. Positive. I wanted to stay. They sent me home, and I cut again just to go back. I had learned that if I didn’t stop, they’d have to send me to a group home. If it was anything like the psyche ward, I wanted to go. Immediately. So I told the psychiatrist that. My grandparents claim THEY made that decision.I feel like dementia may have set in, because I distinctly remember telling the psychiatrist if he sent me home, I’d be right back and that I wanted to go to a Residential Treatment Facility.
 I’m not making myself out to be a hero, here. Like I got everything I wanted and manipulated my way out of shit. No. Group homes are no joke. Talk about having to wear the ugliest gray sweatpants and sweatshirts in the WORLD. Your shoes are padlocked into a wooden box with everyone else’s because of runaways. There are red lines of tape across every room separation and you have to ask “May I cross” if you want to go from one room to the next. You can’t have a razor unless you’re off suicide watch. It’s like a very low security jail. But, the staff respected you. They didn’t insult you and break you down. They wanted you to get better. They wanted your self esteem to be higher. The time I spent at Resolutions was the most healing period of time in my life. For some, it may not have worked. Maybe their life was a pattern of negative and the group home didn’t help them. But it saved me. I learned there were people who could like me. Who would think I was intelligent and tell me so. People who would encourage me to be better, to express myself and I wouldn’t be insulted for it. I got out of there at 16. At 17, I moved out of my grandparents’ house when I gave them the excuse to kick me out. I found I no longer needed my depression medication with the change of environment. I was going to college after senior year. I was going to amount to something. I have amounted to something in society’s standards. Let that be a big Fuck You to my childhood. I still call my grandparents every few months to let them know I’m alive and fine. They did provide all the things I needed to grow up healthy, disease free, and they even had insurance to pay for that group home and psychiatric care, and I owe them that. They just had a really fucked up way of raising kids. I’m sure they did the best they could with their own issues.
But SHIT ya’ll, I made it. Don’t let anyone tell me they just can’t handle things, or they just can’t get out of a bad situation. Or they just can’t leave that mentally abusive husband. Ohhh yes you can. Because FUCK THAT. No. Just. No.

So tired of people, men AND women, shaming a girl for voicing the fact that she may want marriage or kids. It’s a biological want. Humans are animals, and animals are programmed to procreate. Society has evolved that we be monogamous. So maybe, if a person truly doesn’t want these things and feels the need to make someone else feel bad, maybe they should think that nature is telling them they shouldn’t reproduce. And maybe they shouldn’t put that shit on someone else with the biological urge to do so. If someone doesn’t want kids, it’s fine. If they don’t want marriage, it’s also fine. Also, you can change your mind at any point in time in your life, and you shouldn’t be made to feel bad about it.

My grandparents have told me time and time again that I shouldn’t have kids. Because I’m impatient and a perfectionist, but I know damn well I’d be an awesome mom. I was instrumental in raising my niece and everyone who has seen me with her says I’m more like a mother than her own. Don’t tell me I shouldn’t do something and claim because of a couple things, I’m not fit, when you have kids out there reproducing without the maturity and wisdom and life experience to handle it. Obviously their parents shouldn’t have been parents either for not teaching them.

This is what is wrong with women today. We have to be tough, emotionless, fake, hide behind a mask and say we don’t want things that come naturally to us, all because if we are ourselves, we won’t be loved. Or that is the impression we have. A guy will automatically choose the woman not threatening him with wanting a future instead of the woman who is being a normal woman and expecting him to man up and grow up and give a shit about someone other than himself. I’ve seen girls repress their actual desires and then trap a guy by getting pregnant, and the result? A child doesn’t have a father in their life as they should. All of this shit is toxic. What the hell happened in society? Why are things this way? I don’t understand.

I’m sitting here at a basketball game with my boyfriend and his roommate 4 hours from home. I feel like I’m going to cry, but that’s just guilt.

I’m hurting someone today, by not showing up to her bachelorette party like I said I would. The term party is used loosely, as she is gathering some girls together at her parents’ house where she lives in the middle of nowhere, and having wine and watching movies. To me, this is not a party. It sounds positively agonizingly boring. Bachelorette parties are for getting shitfaced and doing things you regret with guys you won’t remember.

We used to be close. For a year or so we hung out all the time. Then, last year we went to Italy together and discovered just how different we are. Apparently I can only handle hypochondriacs when I’m not spending 24 hours a day with them? Yeah so anyway, we got back and we just didn’t hang out that much after I told her her immature behavior about the plane delays was unacceptable. She threw a fit and cried because she just wanted to get home to her parents and cat and was upset after a delay in Germany caused us to miss our connection in Chicago. It was ridiculous.

So yes. I’m not going to her bachelorette party because I don’t feel like it. I’m also not a bad friend because I don’t really feel like we are friends anymore. I don’t owe her anything. Some people just aren’t meant to stay in your life forever and I picked an awful time to deal the final death blow to a failing friendship. That’s on me. My conscience will beat me up but I’ll have more fun today than I would have otherwise.