Monday, December 1, 2014

Men are From Mars Women are from....Somewhere I stopped paying attention when it stopped being about me...

I love relationships. No really I do. I completely suck at them and I'm pretty sure I will be 90 before I ever get married and have kids but that's primarily because I'm stuck in a state of delayed adolescence while my hair slowly falls out.

The whole reason I ever even really get into relationships is because I instantly want to get out of them as soon as possible. Preferably by causing a ton of damage (emotional not physical) leaving a scorched and angry wake of destruction in my path as I go. I think that's why in retrospect my worst relationships are the ones I was in the longest. While my best were the ones that flamed out spectacularly in a blinding flash of a comet fueled by scorn disdain infidelity and a destructive force powerful enough to make one girl swear off men entirely and rent office space above her therapist so she wouldn't have to deal with the traffic and parking from her now daily visits.

I'm sure my therapist would have a field day trying to understand the inner workings of a textbook narccist with an inner core of self loathing, self destructive tendencies and an inability to let someone in that might actually be good for me. I'd care but...things like self-realization, self-actualization, and preventable bad life choices get in the way of all that.

Some people are just not meant for healthy stable relationships. Its sad but true. It's like I told Grandma "not everyone should wear a thong"...True Story.

Being a self-involved smart ass is not only a huge detriment to any relationship in some ways it's a huge hindrence in just waking up in the morning. But the world is what it is regardless.

Why do I keep trying and bombing all my relationships? It's one of life's little mysteries. Like how pimentos get into olives and why we have a steady market of people still purchasing Spam mystery meat products in mass quantities...real mystery.

I have that really rare really bad combination of being a smart-ass and with a high level of sarcasm. While it makes for really good exchanges it also results in many a slap to the face as well.

As my last date helpfully pointed out: "There's a difference between being sarcastic/smart ass vs rude ass and that I should learn the difference." Ohhh sweetie you just walked into a mindfield you didn't even think possible before you stepped. She wanted me to buy her a drink, and oh you best believe I was going to make her pay for it in my own special way.

After explaining to my 10 minute companion that knowing the difference of the above mentioned qualities is nice it would require a few things. Such as: care....tact...common skills...optimism...and really who has time for all that?

Why cloud a perfect moment of cheap watered down vodka in a gray goose bottle with an emotionally self-immolating personality cloud the moment with warmth and civility?

When questioned about "why can't I be nice?" I'm quick to reply if I wanted to be nice I wouldn't even want to sleep with you!

She then helpfully responds with "If you wanna talk to me, being nice and respectful is a must! I won't get my feelings hurt if you wanna stop talking to me!"

Can't argue with her logic there!

And finally... we end in one true and universal truth when it comes to me. If your panties are going to be permanently wedged up your butt, the likelihood of you getting stuck with a surprisingly large bar bill while I make a "quick trip to the bathroom" is remarkably high!

Not everyone is made for thongs...sad reality.