He’s just NOT that into you.


Although I’ve never read the book referenced above, I feel as though it should be required reading material for all 20-something’s caught up in the (not so wonderful) world of dating. I suppose most would tell me that I “just don’t get it” because I’ve found The One and I don’t have to deal with the bullshit mating ritual that we like to call “dating,” but I’ve had the displeasure of watching some close friends charge into battle head-on, only to come back with blotchy make-up and a little less self-esteem than they had before.

And yes, while guys can be assholes, us ladies have to take some of the blame upon ourselves. We, afterall, are the smarter sex, so why does it always seem like my female friends constantly get one-upped by all their male exploits?? The dude is on to the next one, while the girl is left clean up the mess. Dating the same guy for almost 7 years has allowed me the status as “one of the guys” amongst his groups of guy friends and has given me a, not always welcome, window into their sexual exploits.

Here’s one major thing I’ve learned: Guys are the biggest simpletons on Earth. Seriously.

They’re not complicated. They say how they feel, perhaps not always in the most elegant or expressive way, but oh they do. Or if they don’t say it, they sure as hell show it. If they’re into you, you’ll know it. If not, you’ll definitely know it.

A prime example: A good female friend of mine (we’ll call her Lola)  hooked up with a fellow male friend of my boyfriend’s (whom we’ll call Garrett) in a crazy night out on the town. The next day, Lola proceeded to friend him on facebook and write him a brief message about what a good time she had. Garrett never accepted her friend request. Although there was clear evidence that he had been on facebook several times since the request was made (let’s face it, guys are too stupid to think to turn off facebook chat). Lola proceeded to harass a friend of his, giving him her number to pass along. Garrett never contacted her.  This drama unfolded for weeks, during which I constantly had to hear about what an asshole Garrett was and ponder the many reasons why he didn’t want to be “facebook friends” (apparently I’m too stupid to turn off facebook chat too). I ended up hanging out with my boyfriend and his friends, including Garrett, a week or two later. Lola somehow found out and continued to harass me for information: “What did he say about me??” “Why won’t he accept my friend request?” “What did I do wrong!?”. The Friend Request was never accepted and the drama continued. About a month later, both parties were scheduled to come in contact again at a little shindig I was having at my place. And Lola confided in me that she was going to look her best in hopes that her and Garrett would end the night in hook up city again. REALLY!? The signs couldn’t be any clearer to me: He’s SOO not into you!

And how did Lola and Garrett’s night end? A drunk Garrett ignoring the shit out of a teary-eyed, disappointed, and also drunk,  Lola.

So ladies, don’t be offended when I say this but TAKE A GOD DAMN HINT! It will save you a lot of aggravation in the end. Cut your loses and move on. If they didn’t realize how awesome you were the first time, they don’t deserve you.


Gone with the Wind- Goodbye Cosmopolitan, Hello Esquire.


Last month Cosmo featured 70+ ways to please your man. Initially I was excited at the prospect. I happen to get a lot of pleasure by pleasing my man and 70 odd ways to do so presented a lot of possible obstacles for me to climb- but then he texted me back, ‘No. I only need like 3 things and I’m good.’ So then I thought to myself Self, do you really need to buy a magazine that says the same thing every other month? Don’t you have ‘101 ways to turn him on’ in a box under your bed from 95938475938475 years ago? Keep your $3.99 and buy a sandwich.  

And then it dawned on me.


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Guilty as charged!


“Jasmine was in a relationship with a dirty homeless boy named Aladdin. Snow White lived alone with 7 men. Pinocchio was a liar. Robin Hood was a thief. Tarzan walked around without his clothes on. A stranger kissed Sleeping Beauty and she married him.  Cinderella lied and snuck out at night to attend a party.  You can’t blame us.  We were taught to rebel since a young age.”

When I first read this quote, the hopeless romantic in me thought, huh, well that’s a bit cynical, eh? (apparently my inner hopeless romantic is Canadian.) And then I stopped and thought about it. Even the other Disney princesses-Belle fell in love with a beast.  Pocahontas (should you view the massacre of the Native Americans as a genocide, like I do) fell in love with a man set out to kill her and her family, Mulan dressed up as a boy, Ariel fell in love with someone of another species, and Tiana fell in love with a frog (beastiality, anyone?)

What girl hasn’t kissed a frog or ten in her day?

So I started to analyze my past relationships and/or hookups to see if they fell in line with the Disney Princess Pattern.  And guess what? I’m as guilty as charged!

Aladdin: Now I can’t say that I’ve ever dated a dirty homeless boy for I am a fairly large proponent of personal hygiene. However, part of Aladdin’s lure was that he had a magic carpet. And Ryan (as I shall give all these guys different names) had plenty of modern-day magic carpets. I rode on his Magic Harley, got driven around in his Old Magic Chevy, a Magic Subaru something or other and some other Magic carpets.  He also engineered a Magic Train! And I swooned. Like Jasmine, I found out he wasn’t a Prince after all. Which was fine with me because the sex was less than magical.

 Seven Dwarves: I’ve never been blessed to live with 7 men before, but I have lived with three. Lonely never left his bedroom, Sporty tried luring me to his bedroom to “try out [his] purple blanket” and the other might as well have been Prince Charming, but I shall call him Smarmy since in this case they are practically synonymous. Now I will admit, for the first couple days while it was just me and the men in the house, I was on cloud nine. Especially when one had an accent and the other was much older. We would sit back, drink some Jack and watch rugby. It was a life I could get used to. At the end though, I never saw Lonely, Sporty just wasn’t my cup of tea, and Smarmy travelled to different European cities to bang different women (more power to him) but it made me want to bang him less and less.

Pinocchio: What’s there to say about Pinocchio. He was a fake wooden boy turned into a real boy and lied a lot. I dated a guy who lied a lot. We broke up and stayed friends and he still lied a lot. And his wood was small! Lesson learned.

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Checkmate, Game Over


About a month ago, on a Saturday night I went to my favorite bar with two friends of mine. The place was packed (surprise surprise), dancing space = limited, places to sit and chat….yea right. So we ended up heading to the upper level where the music was still loud, the drinks were still flowing and where we managed to find a little spot to call our own. We settled ourselves on an indoor balcony that over looked the sea of people below. We, ladies and gents, had ourselves an aerial view of what we would soon witness to be the understanding of ‘The Game’.

Exhibit A: There are two buddies at the bar with drinks in hand watching the people around them. You can tell they’re seeing which pretty ladies they can talk too. Now scanning several feet away from the bar and close to the stage where the live band is playing, we spot two pretty girls enjoying their night. They’re sipping their drinks, singing along to the music and they’ve been spotted. The two guys from the bar are approaching. The guys attempt introductions and small talk but the girls don’t seem too interested. They make their glances at the guys brief and end up paying more attention to the music. After a few more attempts, the guys move on. We keep our eyes on the two groups and later on in the night, the guys come back. One of the guys ends up buying one of the girls a drink but she still ignores him afterwards. The other guy and girl seem to have more of a connection. These two talk for a bit while the other girl leaves the other guy in the cold. At the end, the guys end up leaving and the girls turn to each other with puzzling looks of, ‘What was that? They’re just going to leave??’.

Well, if you wanted them to stay then why weren’t you more interested?!

Here’s what I don’t quite understand, us women, we know what we want these days and we know how to get it but when it comes to men or relationships, why do we play coy about what we want or play games? Well guess what ladies, checkmate. King’s dead and the Queen is standing alone.  Oh boo hoo, game over. Time to cut the crap, ladies! No more ‘playing hard to get’. I mean, whoever came up with that term must have been seriously bored. The whole ‘Game’ aspect of relationships, it’s exhausting! Have you ever played Monopoly in its entirety? It’s tiring as hell and it’s just a board game!

Hello, my name is Homewrecker. And you are?


Five years ago I met a dude at a party. He was just a regular guy and we held a pretty decent conversation but in the end it was nothing special, so when I went home, I did so with no butterflies fluttering in my stomach or tingles jingling in my loins. I got on with my life as usual: working my days away to save money for my stint abroad.

A couple weeks later he tracked me down on MySpace (remember MySpace?) and messaged me. We had a short-lived conversation, which consisted of him requesting repeatedly when we could hang out, with some flattery and compliments tossed in for good measure while I repeatedly replied that there was no way that we could hang out since there was AN ENTIRE OCEAN separating us and I was too busy getting my mack on with supersexy Irish guys. After a while I stopped responding and that was the end to our “relationship.”

I met a friend at a pub a couple weeks ago and told him the story and it turns out:

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What farts say about love


A recent post from a girl I’m friends with on Facebook reads: “My honey is afraid to fart in front of me lol.”

I thought to myself, Oh, new relationships. This particular couple has been together for less than a month now, so I thought it was just one of those new relationship nuances that she decided to not so tactfully make public. 


On the second week of their relationship they signed a lease and moved in together. So I ask this: are you ready to live with a man who doesn’t know you well enough to let out a little gas? Guys fart all the time. Just last night I met a friend-of-a-friend for the first time, and that sucker was letting ’em rip all over a pub in central London. That, however, is not exactly desirable behavior. 

But, you know, they’ll have at least one year under a lease to get to know the other’s natural bodily functions. Right? Wrong.


On the third week of their new relationship, they got engaged. I don’t believe in the bullshit of love at first sight, so perhaps I’m too cynical about this. Maybe there is a chance for our non-tooting couple. 

So my question to all of you is this: would you want to marry a guy who doesn’t know/trust you well enough to let one rip?

Personally, I’d need to experience at least two farts before signing a lease. Just kidding. What’s the rush, kids? My main point here is that I don’t have much faith in these rash decisions people make in falling hard and fast into love. It just happened to fit quite well into the farts scenario.