Lyrics That Kill

     In my Jeep there is no antennae and I am forced to listen to silence or country. Now I'm not the biggest fan of country music but I don't necessarily hate it either. However, there is one particular song that really grinds my gears. That stupid Zac Brown Band song, "Keep Me in Mind." The lyrics go: "when there's no one else to love, keep me in mind." WHAT?! Who the hell would want to be someone's last choice? Don't you think you deserve to be someone's first pick? 
     Maybe this bugs me because being first pick is kind of my thing. Lets stroll down memory lane. On two separate occasions I have been with a friend when she has met her future boyfriend. In BOTH situations, the guys fall for her whorish tendencies and when the lust glossed veil drops, both realized she was NUTS. What was their next move? Why right on over to the best friend of course! Kiss. My. Derriere. What, you thought I would be glad you came to your senses and realized you picked the wrong girl? Well mister, you couldn't be farther from the truth. I will not be someone's second choice. In fact, that's not a choice, it's a lack of option. This made my head spin faster than my constant flip flopping between verb tenses. 
     Any who, the point is this song gets under every layer of my in-desperate-need-of-a-tan skin. Now I understand the argument that "people make mistakes" and blah blah blah. Not interested. My annoyance is in the fact that this song can be summed up as follows: "Hello there attractive lady. Please, I encourage you to indulge in your whorish indecisive typical woman mistake making ways and plow through all the wrong men. I'll take whats left." Blahhhhh...Give me a break. 

"Even after all this time? Always and forever"

Still...

My poster child of failure. The reason I can't move on. The knot in my stomach. The kiss I'll never forget; the night I wish I could. The example that good things don't always come to those who wait. The answer to why I'm single. The question before the no. The reason I can't dream of peace. The reason my dreams make reality miserable. The thing that taunts me most. The reason I kick myself in the foot. My pain. My longing. My happiness. My sickness. My hope. My defeat. My everything. My biggest regret...

and you're my first pick. Wish I were yours.

"If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads."

Yep, I'm weird. Maybe a better word is that I'm a full blown GEEK. I love Harry Potter and that's just scratching the surface. I'm a Trekkie, I like Star Wars, my favorite smell is an old book, my secret dream job is to be a librarian, and my favorite pass time is reading. For me, the greatest high comes from getting an A. The good news is I have friends who accept this. Maybe "accept" isn't the right word..."tolerate" is better. I've spent my life trying to hide this. My closest friends knew that I was a closeted bookworm who was probably going to become a librarian who spent the rest of her life alone with only the company of her books, but I tried really hard to hide this from the rest of the world. I still don't think you have to "act" the part. I LOVE to shop and nothing feels better than turning heads in a very expensive pair of heels. I like to look nice and play "adorable" female every chance I get, but that's for my own amusement. My point is, cliche's are just that: cliches. My best friend is the girliest person I know and she loves books as much as I do. Now the buck stops before all things fantasy with her, but that can be understood, lol. I have decided recently to let my freak flag fly. I'm done toning down my quirkiness. For those of you who know me, yes it was toned downed. Me becoming even more weird is probably shocking to my nearest and dearest, but why not? I'm through with niceties and the appearance I should want to portray. I don't want to be an anorexic, air headed, geek closeted, uninteresting, boring, level minded, bimbo projection as so many others are only so eager to fill. No sir. I'm gonna continue being me: quirky, weird, slightly inappropriate, overly compassionate, hopelessly romantic, fantasy enthralled, straight "A" making, book reading, naively hopeful, and way too loud self that I hope is who who everyone claims to love. Nothing better than self acceptance. Ahhh, cue sigh of relief :)
Besides, there's a man out there for someone like me. 
 "If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are. Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads."
--Robert Pattinson

Pity parties are best thrown ALONE.

It's time to rant. I am so tired of "poor pitiful me" people on dating sites. Do you really think you are going to attract someone with a headline like "No one wants me" or "I'm just a lonely cast away." You're right, you are. No one wants someone who uses pity as a means of manipulation. Gain some self respect. I understand being insecure, trust me. I know what it's like to feel like you're always on the down and out side of relationships. But despite all my own vices, you think I show any of them to a man? Especially on the internet? Hell no. I NEVER want someone to give me attention based on pity. I want to attract someone because they are interested in me, not because they feel sorry for me. I had a guy message me on POF saying I should give him a chance because no one else would. Great idea, tell me no one else wants you because there's something wrong with all of them. It couldn't possibly be because they're all afraid, Mr Lonely, that you sit at home listening to Patsy Cline whilst bathing in a pool of your own blood of sorrow and self mutilation. Get the point? I already get creeped out by a lot of online dating. You Debbie Downers just make it worse. Don't get me wrong, I think POF is a pretty cool way to meet people. I would just like to inform you psycho self haters to do the world a favor: jump or man up. No one is perfect and EVERYONE has insecurities. You should broadcast your strengths not your inability to productively socialize. 

A mighty pain to love it is

"A mighty pain to love it is,
And 'tis pain that pain to miss;
But of all pains, the greatest pain
It is to love, but love in vain." 


...From his words


To mine...


Heaven is measured by the Iris of an eye.
Love is proven by the weight of a tear.
Life is motivated in the reasons for asking why.
Joy rests in the things only the mind can hear. 
Truth lies in the honesty behind a smile.
Pain grows each day I'm just your friend.
Peace comes with finding you loved me all the while,
and my Fear cements in losing you in the end. 

Warning: May cause bodily injury.

     I am my own worst enemy. Well isn't that the damned truth. I HATE going on dates. Let me clarify, I hate first dates. I love meeting new people. One of my favorite things in the world is eliminating strangers. Here's the problem: I can't hit on men. You tell me to go up to a group of guys and make friends...no problem. You tell me to go up to the same group and hit on one of them...I'll purposefully run into traffic in an effort to escape. For some reason I missed Flirting 101 in middle school or whenever the hell life assigns that lesson. Putting myself out there makes me want to move to Africa and become one with lions. It's terrifying. To make matters even worse, when a guy hits on me one of two things occur: I am completely unaware that he is hitting on me OR I turn into a puddle a goo, including the loss of cognitive sentence forming and the function of most motor skills. According to my bestie, I am the most annoying person in the world to go to the club with. All the men who hit on me I am oblivious to, and all the men who don't hit on me I'm mad at. (Yet I don't hit on them because I'm too busy looking for a busy street to lay down in.) 
     I have this recurring dream that my life will turn out like a chick flick. Let me set it up for you. I'm the girl with the big personality who is shy when meeting guys and ends up injuring them instead of seeming coy and attractive. Meanwhile, the guy is lapping it up. He loves my quirkiness and overlooks his injuries I have inflicted. Back to reality and off the set, that's not how it works. I end up getting too nervous around someone I like, inflict injury, and am plastered with a warning perimeter no man dares to cross. (I actually succeeded in causing someone to get inside a dog kennel at a party once for safety.) Yea, that merits a guy thinking "She's so wonderful. As soon as I'm out of this body cast, I'm gonna sweep her off her feet." 
     In conclusion, this is why I hate first dates: Expectations are always too high. I'm expecting something out of a movie and he's expecting someone off a runway. The result is usually rejection. For the smart ones, it's not them. I know you have to allow yourself to be rejected. What I don't know is how to block that allowance. While I may be my own worst enemy, we're at least trying to work on it.  

I kissed a frog and I didn't like it.

"The thing that screws us up most in life is the image we have in our heads of how it should be."
I can never accept reality. Will this be my downfall? Oh, I'm quite sure of it. I've spent my entire life building an image of what love is. Don't judge me. This is a common character FLAW among many women. However, why does it have to be a flaw? Why should I have to settle to avoid solitude? Every bad decision I've ever made in relationships has been a result of my single status harping on my better judgment to lighten up and accept reality. Malarky. I refuse to accept that men only want one thing. I refuse to accept that "Men are like parking spaces: All the good one's are taken and the only ones left are handicaps." Ironically, this deeply warped and somewhat naive outlook on love always causes me nothing but grief. For instance, a couple of weeks ago I went out with my friends. There was a "friend of a friend" in attendance to this outing who was, seemingly, very into me. He was laughing at all my jokes, touched me every time he spoke to me, and was generally attentive. (All the signs Cosmopolitan tells women that a man is interested.) He even kissed me at the end of the night. Well, as the wise Robin Williams once said, "God gave man a penis and a brain but only enough blood to work one at a time." That warped and naive outlook of mine I was talking about earlier was my undoing. When he found out at the end of the night that all his effort didn't have a "happy ending," he became extremely rude and said some very ungentlemanly things to me. Instead of laughing him off and accepting that I had won, I bawled my eyes out like a 6th grader without a date to the dance. In my mind he was another example of how stupid I was assume the best in people. My undoing was in my fairy tale perspective. Did I expect this guy to be Prince Charming? Hell no. What I didn't expect was to be so upset that I had found yet another man who only had blood flow in his lower extremities. Moral of the story: You want to be naive and wrapped up in happy endings, you better develop a thick skin. I don't have to settle, but I do have to realize that not every story has a happy ending. If they did, we would only have one to tell.