women scare me

theres something about he's just not that into you that irks me

and i havent even read the damn book yet

so part of me says that maybe i should wait until i read the damn thing, (a part of me that the rest promptly proceeds to ignore) before spouting off to anyone who will listen.

spouting off in blogs, spouting off to friends, spouting off to friends of friends, and even spouting off to random women in bars.

im the moby dick of women's self help books. ha!

not that i have anything against self help books. ive read my fair share - ill read anything that strikes me as insightful.

im just THAT kinda book whore.

so if im not anti-self help, then why do i have such a beef with behrendt and tuccillo? am i scared that they'll spill all my 'manly' secrets to the female population?

hardly.

to be honest, my beef is simple - i just dont get it. i just dont get why women would want to read this book. i just dont get why women would want to read this book, and then actually think that its insightful. i just dont get why women would want to read this book, and then actually think that its insightful enough to tell other women about.

i.just.dont.get.it.

but then again, maybe thats because i havent read the book. ha!

i may not have read it, but ive heard plenty about it. so here's what ive heard in a nutshell: ‘women lie to themselves. they lie to themselves, and they lie to each other. and when a relationship between a man and a women falls apart, the women lies to herself, and her friends lie to her too. she makes up excuses, they [her friends] make up excuses. excuses why he doesnt call. excuses why he doesnt like her enough. excuses why he likes her too much.'^^^

you know those kinda excuses.

and according to people who have actually read the book, he’s just not that into you provides the following insight: ‘if he doesnt call, he’s just not that into you. if he doesnt commit, he’s just not that into you. if he doesnt... WHATEVER the hell you want him to do, he’s just not that into you.’

(DUH doesnt even begin to describe my thoughts on this 'insight')

but the book goes on... it imparts the following wisdom: 'if he's not into you, stop making excuses for him. its not because he's in the wrong stage of his life. its not because he's older (or younger). its not because he's on the rebound or he's never dated - its because HE’S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU.'

(i tell ya, the spawn of sex-and-the-city are so thoughtful to build their book’s message into the actual title of their book. what a bunch of smarty fartys. ha!)

'and if he’s just not that into you... dont make excuses for him. move on, because someone else WON'T need excuses, and you deserve a guy who won't want you to make an excuse for him. he wont need it.'

amen sista's, i whole heartedly agree.

i agree that if a man cant take the time to call you - cant take two minutes out of his day to pick up his cell phone and press speed dial, then he isnt into you. i agree that if a man cant take the time to call you, you should stop making excuses for him. i agree that if a man cant take the time to call you, you should stop making excuses for him and then you should go find someone who does want to call.

but let me ask you this… do we really need a fucking clit*** self help book to tell us all that? let me rephrase... do WOMEN really need a fucking clit self help book to tell them that?

i mean COME ON!!! i make fun of silly women alot, but i certainly gave them more credit than this!

but maybe i shouldnt.

because my girl friends LOVE this book. and good for them. good for them that theyve found something that has changed their lives. good for them that theyve found something that has made them happy. good for them that theyve found something that has made them realize that they are worth more than they originally imagined - worth more than a pound of lousy excuses for a lousy guy who cant pick up the phone to call.

but let met ask you this simple question, the question that ive asked everyone whos read the book... the question that no one seems to have a satisfactory answer for:

'is it better for you to make up excuses for some lame ass guy who didnt call, or is it better to realize that there is something about you (something about your hair, your personality, your body, your face, your voice, your ass) that made this lame ass guy not want to call you?'

is it really better to think like this, than to think that he's just not calling because... he's lost his cellphone? (ok, fess up. how many of you have used that one) ha! it sounds to me like 'he’s just not that into you' is a nice way of saying that he thinks you arent his type. and i think we all know what thats code for...

y o u f i g u r e i t o u t.

'but... but...' pipes in a friend of a friend, 'thats not the point. the point of the book is that its not MY problem that he didnt call, its HIS problem.'

and then she uttered something that shocked me, 'its his problem that he doesnt call, and im tired of making excuses for him. there's nothing wrong with me, and if he cant accept me for who i am, then fuck him. i dont need to change for him. somewhere out there is a guy who will call me back for who i am, and he will want me exactly as i am.'

we have just lost cabin pressure.

if this is what he’s just not that into you is extolling - if this is the final message of he’s just not that into you, then there is going to be an entire generation of bitter and lonely old maids who will be waiting for prince charming to come up and accept them for 'who they are'.

as if we dont have enough bitter thirty three year olds as it is. (i should know, i keep running into them).

this is a big topic for me. its something near and dear to my heart. i can spend hours (i can spend days) talking about it. but i will try to be succinct. in fact i will hardly write anything at all.

i will sum it up rather simply (ive written this before and it is still my favorite relationship quote):

'relationships do not fail because of incompatibility, they fail because of inflexibility'

to expect someone to love you for exactly who you are is ridiculous. all of us are fallible humans. all of us have our own share of quirks, attitudes, tics and idiosyncrasies. expecting someone to accept you for who you are is part of a healthy relationship, but so is trying to change some of your own idiosyncrasies to accommodate the other person (to cushion the blow of who you really are...). to expect someone to unabashedly love you for who you are (take it or leave it) is ludicrous.

although no less ludicrous than grown women thinking that he’s just not that into you is insightful literature.

and that is what scares the beejesus out of me.

it scares me that women actually believe that reading he’s just not that into you may be a watershed moment in their 'neiman marcus is way better than bloomingdales' lifestyle.

it also scares me that im going to have to pay $20.00 to read this damn book before my friends will listen to me point out how ludicrous all of this really is.

*** clit = chick lit (credit goes to my ex)

^^^ since i havent actually read the book, im paraphrasing friends who are paraphrasing the book. ha!

hookin up with history

for better or worse, a girls history talks to me.

imagine my surprise the first time THAT happened.

i was young (maybe 14 or 15), minding my own business after school- just happy to have someone new in my life (just happy to have a new girl to fool around with), when suddenly out of nowhere this girls history sidles over, squeezes in between the two of us and sits down. at first i thought it was awfully rude (afterall there was plenty of room elsewhere), but i decided not make a fuss, and just ignored the interruption.

so there he is, sitting between us, idly listening, when suddenly he interjects RIGHT in the middle of our conversation. she was in the process of telling me about a 'heavy' dinner conversation that she had had recently with her friend matt, when her history piped in:

'wait, wasnt one of her old boyfriends named matt?'

i threw an irritated look his way, rolled my eyes, and tried to pay attention to the story.

(yep, thats right, a girls history is always a dood)

and despite his rude interruption, her story continued, and i continued to smile, and i continued to nod my head, and i continued to laugh at her jokes and ask all the right questions, but suddenly all i could REALLY hear was history's question reverberating inside my head.

'matt? which one was matt again? was he the joker who cheated on her? or was he the asshole who smoked alot of weed and she used to fuck around with? wait, that guys name was john... wasnt matt the cowboy on spring break?'

suddenly i cant remember, who matt was.

there i was chatting up a perfectly wonderful girl, and i have this DOOD (an imaginary one at that) cock-blocking me. for that matter, there i was chatting up a perfectly wonderful girl and i was cock-blocking myself.

needless to say, things did not last long with ms. chatty matty.

and that wasnt the last time that someones history spoke to me. that wasn’t the last time that i was imaginary cock blocked. and i hate to say it, but history and i have become old friends. each time its a different girl, with a different history, at a different stage in my life, but its always the same ol' conversation.

because a persons history always has alot to say about who they are.

and i hate to say it, but he gets me practically every time. he gets inside my head and takes a perfectly wonderful girl and makes her into something… not so wonderful.

and sometimes im grateful. sometimes im happy that history gave me the heads-up. sometimes im happy to have that occasional thumbs up (or the inevitably thumbs down).

because none of us are saints (i certainly am not), but as history likes to point out, some of us are saintlier than others.

'maybe it wasnt the smartest idea to get drunk and take off my skirt at that fraternity party...'

'i knew he liked me, but my boyfriend was out of town and i needed a bed to crash in'

'who would have thunk that smokin' alotta pot and rollin' would lower your inhibitions'

i wonder what my history likes to talk about when im not around (hopefully not about the skirt that i took off at my fraternity’s party...) ha!

its downright scary what youll hear (if you listen closely)

and ive actually broken things off based on things that have been said. ive actually broken things off based on things that have been done. ive actually lost interest in some PERFECT (or what i thought was PERFECT) women because i didnt want to be number XXX in a series of bad boyfriends (or even worse, bad hookups).

c’mon girls! lets at least try to keep it to double digits... single if possible.

perhaps im kidding myself. perhaps im kidding everyone. who the hell do i think i am? who the hell made me the judge of them? im no better than they are...

but i am.

because for every awkward story, and half baked decision of theirs - i remember being in the same type of situation. and i usually made the right choice - if the right choice was keeping my clothes on, sleeping somewhere else, passing on that extra bong hit etc.

not always, but pretty damn close.

so why couldnt they? WHY!?!?!? why are so many very smart, very attractive, very WONDERFUL women, so very stupid?

why?

i don’t have an answer to that question. rather, i didn’t think that i would ever have an answer to that question.

that is, until now.

it took someone very special to finally teach me that these women – the smart, attractive, wonderful women that i meet, ARE NOT STUPID.

they were stupid.

and we can argue over whether or not they were actually stupid (if by stupid, you mean young and inexperienced), but that’s not even the point. the point is that they were stupid, but stupid in the past. they were stupid a long time ago (maybe even more than a couple of weeks ago). maybe they slept with too many guys. maybe they got drunk and pornstarr-ed it up too often. maybe they had problems that they couldn’t deal with – maybe they had problems that they dealt with, but not in the best way possible.

it doesn’t matter.

because a persons history always has a lot to say about who they were, but it doesn’t (necessarily) say a lot about who they are. it may be part of their history, but its not (necessarily) part of their future.

and that makes all the difference in the world… doesnt it?

i like that i still have hope

damnit. she called me out. and she was right in every possible way. she knew what i was doing, even before the words had lept from my mouth. as the tears ran down her face, and the sobs racked her body, she called me out for the wimp that i am. i should have known that i couldnt sneak one by her.

she's just that good.

and even as her face crumpled, and her cheeks flared from anger and embarrasment, i knew that she was right.

i was scared.

scared that this was happening too fast. scared that i was settling too soon. scared that things would change once we were involved.

a little too late for that one, pardna.

she was right about that, and she was right about so much more.

damn her for being so damn good. damn her, because it only makes me like her even more. and i cant take back what ive said, even though she wants me to. i cant take back what ive said, even though a piece of me wants me to.

she deserves better than this.

i should never have opened my mouth if i thought there was a chance that i couldnt see this breakup (if it can even be called that) through. hell - i should never have let things evolve like they did if i thought there was a chance that i couldnt see this relationship through.

she deserves better than me.

and she called me out, and told me so.

back on the friendship tip

i often ask people the following question: what complicates friendships more - sex or love?

marinate on that for a moment.

id like to say that i have a witty answer or an insightful comment to impart to you, but the truth is that i dont. all i have is a truckload of experiences, a bus full of friendships, and a sneaking suspicion that maybe (just maybe) this is a question that i shouldnt be seeking the answer to.

unfortunately as much as i try to avoid seeking it out, it tends to seek me instead.

which is why i once again found myself posing the age old question, 'what would harry do?'. and by that i mean, harry - of the 'when harry met sally' persuasion.

i think that 'when harry met sally' was a great movie; it was charming, it was witty, it was entertaining - it was a movie ahead of its time.

but lets face facts, it was also a movie full of shit.

because as much as i love chowin' down on harry and sally's witty banter, awkward sexual tension, and predictable romantic overtones, i find myself choking on more than my fair share of hollywood gristle.

but what do you expect? this is the same industry that led the entire male population to believe that well-educated novelists arent smart enough to wear underwear (or cross their legs) when they're being grilled in a police station...

i (still) heart sharon stone. ha!

hollywood would love to have us (i.e. theelevendollarpayingfridaynightmoviewatchingeneralpublic) believe all manner of lies. and i think its fairly obvious that im a sucker for make believe (afterall, i still believe that sharon stone could be an author... ha!)

which brings us full circle to the farce that i like to call 'when harry met sally'. WHMS was famous for two things, meg ryan faking her orgasm, and billy crystals conversation about how men and women cant be friends.

with regards to the first- all i have to say is that women are fakers. deal with it, and move on. (this statement only applies to women who i have NOT slept with... i am utterly convinced that every woman that i have been with was thoroughly satisfied with my performance) ha!

as for the second - this topic is slightly more complicated than the colletive bruised ego of the entire male gender . read on, and see why.

harry : you realize of course that we could never be friends.
sally : why not?
harry : what I'm saying is - and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form - is that men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.
sally : that's not true. I have a number of men friends and there is no sex involved.
harry : no you don't.
sally : yes i do.
harry : no you don't.
sally : yes i do.
harry : you only think you do.
sally : you say I'm having sex with these men without my knowledge?
harry : no, what im saying is they all WANT to have sex with you.
sally : they do not.
harry : do too.
sally : they do not.
harry : do too.
sally : how do you know?
harry : because no man can be friends with a woman that he finds attractive. He always wants to have sex with her.
sally : so, you're saying that a man can be friends with a woman he finds unattractive?
harry : no. you pretty much want to nail 'em too.
sally : what if THEY don't want to have sex with YOU?
harry : doesn't matter because the sex thing is already out there so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that is the end of the story.

but is that really the end of the story?

sex rears its purple head (ha!) in any relationship between a man and a women; anyone who tells you differently is full of shite. ya gotta give it up to harry for callin' the ball on that one. but to say that the act of THINKING about sex ALWAYS dooms a friendship, is slightly over-stating the obvious.

complicates yes, dooms... not necessarily.

we think about sex... alot. im sure you've all heard the six seconds theory (i.e. humans think about sex every six seconds yada yada yada). but thinking of sex, a sexual encounter does not make (much to the dismay of most men). ha!

and that is the key to disproving harry's law of friendship - unless a sexual act is actually performed, most of us are able to continue functioning in normal male-female friendships.

but when sex actually happens... well thats when the icing gets a little sticky on the cake.

or in my case... things get stick(ier) when i actually demonstrate that having sex (with me) might actually be worth 'dooming' a friendship for. (oh shit, im gonna get slammed for that one - please be gentle ).

this isnt an ego thing. you guys dont know me (so you dont need to take my word for it). but i seriously am in a bit of a pickle (truly an unintentional pun).

this weekend i found myself holding back on (what could be) the best sex of my life.

all because she is an awesome person more than she is a piece of ass. all because i want to give her a hug, more than i want to lick the sweat off of her body. all because i appreciate her friendship more than i would appreciate (what could be) the best sex of my life.

i know that she is very very good at what she does / wants to do, and i AM attracted to her in 'that kinda way'.

but there in lies the rub - ive had plenty of friendships that have fallen by the wayside when things got in the way (love, sex, distance, boyfriends, girlfriends, unreciprocated feelings etc.). but in this particular case, i dont want sex to be the reason that this friendship fell apart.

this time its not worth the risk.

i can only hope that i can pull this one out (damnit!), and get us back on the friendship tip (double damnit!). ha!

sometimes you have to learn that throwing in the towel, is the only way to save the match.

PS- im not really looking for advice on this one, i (think i) know what needs to be done. i just... wanted to shrug off what has been weighin' on me recently. thanks for listening tho.

rumble in the bronx

sheesh i leave you kids alone for ONE weekend, and all of a sudden its the crips and bloods dancing to their own verson of west side story.

this message goes for EVERYONE:

i started this blog to have some fun and blather about topics that occassionally weigh heavily on my mind. at first this effort was beneficial solely from a venting perspective - i never really expected people to read my shit. but as people began to read me (go figure), this quickly became a method for me to bounce my thoughts off of my respective readers. i appreciate anyone who takes time to add their two cents to mine, even if their two cents plus my two cents only adds up to three cents.

whatever, i dont 'do' math.

one thing that (i think) sets my blog apart from most other blogs is that i try to always respond to your comments. i am thankful that you took time to drop me a line, so its my responsibility to drop you one too. if i occassionally fuckup on this duty, i apologize. keep writing me and i will (try to) keep writing you.

getting an open dialogue rolling on this blog is important to me. DONT FUCK IT UP!! you can respectfully disagree and even have a bit of tongue and cheek humor with one another, but keep your 'tiffs' to yourselves (or your respective blogs). hell if you want, just make fun of me (most of you already do).

its never personal, its just a blog.

my blog is never serious, it is always irreverent, and occassionally neanderthal-esque in its humor. it would be hypocritical for me not to appreciate readers who write in the same manner. but that is not to be construed as an acceptance for someone who is being an asshole.

dont write like an asshole.

if someone is acting out (and i disapprove), ill sort it out with them. if you have issues with how someone is acting (or writing), then please shoot me an email (hooizz@gmail.com). its not your job to police this blog, just like its not my job to police yours. BUT having said that, i dont want any of you to feel uncomfortable. so if you DO feel uncomfortable, i will gladly take your feedback and pass it along (even if i dont necessarily agree). what they do with that feedback is a different story altogether. ha!

now shake hands and keep the punches above the belt.

cheers

hooizz

my soul mate?

i once ate cheesy hot dogs (and assorted meat products) for 18 days straight, just to prove that i could. i once ran twenty sixe point two miles, just to prove that i could. i once ran around a rugby pitch in front fifty thousand screaming fans, just to prove that i could.

paul newman i am not, but i DO enjoy chowing down on an occasional egg or few.

i dont consider myself ultra competitive - i dont cry if i lose (but then again, i dont lose very often), i just consider myself someone who enjoys overcoming life's challenges.

so i guess its natural that i feel the way i feel, when a friend of mine tells me that one of her ex-boyfriends was her 'sexual soulmate'. understand that im not interested in her in that kinda way... except a tiny part of me is whispering (sexual soulmate? i betchya im better than him...).

i dont even know this guy!

but wouldnchya know, part of me (a really small part) wants to step upto the plate, and swing for the fences.

PS - oh yeah, ive also run around a restaurant with condoms on my ears, just to prove that i could. ha!