The RN: Where are the Real Men?

So, I started writing this, I think at the end of last year and then never got around to framing it into an actual post. But in the face of all the ridiculous expectations and disrespect I was going through at the time, I collected a couple of quotes about how men are being demasculinized by our society and it's having a negative effect of the dating scene. I want a masculine man. I don't want a mean or cruel one, but I do want one who knows what he wants and doesn't use some cray scheme to get it.

Without further ado, here are the quotes:

By her lights, things only get worse in higher education. "This PC gender politics thing—the way gender is being taught in the universities—in a very anti-male way, it's all about neutralization of maleness." The result: Upper-middle-class men who are "intimidated" and "can't say anything. . . . They understand the agenda." In other words: They avoid goring certain sacred cows by "never telling the truth to women" about sex, and by keeping "raunchy" thoughts and sexual fantasies to themselves and their laptops.
...
And men aren't the only ones suffering from the decline of men. Women, particularly elite upper-middle-class women, have become "clones" condemned to "Pilates for the next 30 years," Ms. Paglia says. "Our culture doesn't allow women to know how to be womanly," adding that online pornography is increasingly the only place where men and women in our sexless culture tap into "primal energy" in a way they can't in real life.

- Ms. Paglia

We need to stop this whole idea where just because we aren't putting down women means we have to be putting down men. Also, keeping your more base fantasies to yourself just leads to a bad sex life. How can your partner satisfy you if she doesn't know what you really want?

Males have been told to be sensitive and non-threatening at all times. The is often in direct opposition to their ravishing urges toward their female partners. The resulting guilt of wanting to ravish, and it's incompatibility with sensitivity, leads to the stifling of all aggressive urges in the males, even the desired ones. It keeps the male expression somewhat repressed, and often keep the female from feeling sexually desired. The male partner feels he can't express himself, and the female partner perceives her males partner is holding back his desire for her.
...
Dr. Logan? If I get your message correctly, you're suggesting I tell my husband he can do whatever he needs to express his desire for me without necessarily restraining his expression?
...
I'm not suggesting you let him become abusive or even rough with you, not that he set aside a basic recognition of his strength, his body size, and various other factors in relation to you. ... Instead - I am suggesting that, as a couple, you define the parameters of your sexual expression in ways you might be currently avoiding. Let me ask you a question. Do you you ever feel your husband is holding something back during intimacy?
...
Sometimes.
...
Aren't you curious what it is? Ask yourself what it would be worth to you to know this information about your partner. It could be fear of being hurt holding you back. It could be his fear of hurting you keeping him from his expression. Talk to him and find out. Like everything else in a relationship sexual expression is an agreement. Honest communication is the path to change.

- Dating Dr. Notorious

Another great line from Dating Dr. Notorious which has always struck a cord with me: "It's funny, she thought, fighting the urge to cringe away from his hands. When the right guy put his hands on you, it was amazing. When the wrong guy did it, the actions could give you the creeps." I especially thought of that line when I was dealing with the guy I had to kick out of my life.

The RN: The Wedding Date

So, back in August I met a guy ... kind of. He doesn't live in the same state (something like a 6-7 hour drive) and he left on a wander-about-Asia-for-however-many-months trip at the beginning of November. But thing is when he was visiting other people near me, we went on a couple of really great dates.

He was nice. He was polite. He didn't treat me like an object. He was a perfect gentleman. It has been so long since I went on a date like that. We went on two dates like that and it was pretty awesome. I am definitely smitten, but, realistically, I don't know this has any chance.

But it sure was nice to be treated with such respect. And I think it started a small change in me. Last week for the first time in I can't even remember how long, I wanted to be in a relationship. To be fair it only lasted for a about 5 minutes, but the thought of having someone I could just lay in bed with and be lazy with sounded really great there for a few minutes.

I am still scared. I still don't know what I want. I still get exasperated in dealing with the guys I meet. But for the first time in a long time, I have a seed of hope. Someday, maybe I won't be single.

The RN: I'm Single; Deal with It

So, here's the thing: I'm single.

Have been for a few years (3 years, 18 days, not that I'm counting or anything). And that's okay. There's actually nothing wrong with being single. It's not a crime. I'm not hurting anyone. I'm not letting life pass me by just because I don't have a man.

NEWS FLASH: There is nothing wrong with this!

P.S. This kid is awesome.

Despite the fact that some people can't deal with their kids not having someone in their life, being single is actually okay. It doesn't mean we're not trying; although we maybe on a break. It doesn't mean we're gay; although we may be experimenting out of sheer desperation. It doesn't make us bad people; although sometime we do bad things (don't we all?). It means we haven't settled down yet. Maybe we're still getting over our own issues.

Maybe we just haven't met Mr. Right yet. It's okay to be single. I don't need a man despite having heard this on repeat all last week.

The RN: The Ultimate Betrayal

This is way more true than it should be.

There are all kinds of betrayals. Little ones where you get thrown under the bus in a meeting. Big ones where you come home to another woman fucking your husband in your bed. A friend you have been defending for months, telling you, to your face, she thinks you're a bad friend. All kinds of betrayals. Some are work related. Some are friend related. Some are family related.

They all hurt in their own way. Even the most minor of them.

Recently, I had to somewhat forcibly remove someone from my life. I hate the Friend Zone. He was also an old coworker. After I started getting upset (well, getting upset enough to talk to my friends about it), I found out everyone thought he was hitting on me on all the time. Even people who didn't know either of us thought we were dating. His actions became so uncomfortable I was left with no choice but to create space by removing his chances to interact with me. If you look closely, you'll see I was letting bits and pieces of this growing frustration out for months.

It wasn't easy for me to create this space. I don't like hurting people and I'm not good at holding my ground. But none the less I had to get out.

Working on making this my new mantra.

As hard as it was to create the space I needed, as many meetings where you get thrown under the bus, and as much as any of these smaller betrayals add up to create uncomfortable (or horrible) situations, they are nothing compared to what you can do to yourself.

For last year or so, I have found (or it has been brought to my attention) I am not doing a good job of taking care of myself. It started last November when TWS, The DLS, and I were running a half in Savannah, GA. We decided to make a long weekend of it and we were there Thursday through Tuesday. We spent pretty much every waking moment together, which was enough time for them to really see how little I was eating. I was calling it portion control; I was almost down to a "healthy" BMI. (Please don't get me started on how much I hate BMI.) They called it borderline anorexia. And they freaked. the. fuck. out. Rightly so, I was running 5-15 miles a week on about 700 calories a day.

At the height of this borderline anorexia, I was still 5 lbs "too heavy" to be in the healthy range for BMI. Subsequent conversations with my personal trainer about what would be healthy weight for someone with my workout regimen indicated I was probably 15 lbs under weight. I still struggle with this at times. When I get super stressed out or really insecure I have to fight with myself to not skip meals.

via Pinterest

This July at The DLS's house warming party, part of what I realized was I was still letting The Ex take advantage of me in major ways. We have been broken up for almost 3 years. I was still on the title of his house. I still had reminders in my calendar to remind him to pay the property taxes on said house. This was because if he forgot pay (something not completely unlikely) then it could/would affect my credit, because I was still on the title.

I realized I had sent him the latest set of paperwork to get my name off the title in December of last year. So, 8 months later he still hadn't filed it. Why? I don't know. I don't understand how he could benefit from my still owning part of his house. The only thing I came up with was this: it kept me talking to him and was a tie I couldn't ignore. A way of keeping a strangle-hold on me? Maybe. So the next week after the party I hired a lawyer in CA to get me off the title and as of mid-September, I am no longer on the title of his house.

via No Homers Club

Then there was the "friend" I was talking about at the beginning of this blog. Where I totally missed what he was trying to do and let him have far more control over me than I should have. These are all things I did to myself.

And that is The Ultimate Betrayal, not remaining true to yourself and your beliefs; betraying yourself.

The RN: Do I Have To?

I'm exhausted. I've had way too much adult stuff to deal with the last couple of months.

But first, let's start with a little immaturity. I celebrated my birthday at the beginning of August and it was a drunken-tomfoolery of fun. A bunch of us got together and celebrated like I was turning 21 at one of the clubs downtown. I'd tell you more, but I drank myself into oblivion in true twenty-something-I'm-too-young-to-care style.

And for the totally unfun, adult stuff. As I tried to donate blood, I got deferred twice because of low iron. With a significant drop in iron count between the first and second times. Which mean I might becoming anemic and should probably see a doctor to make sure I'm not having any other issues. But I really don't want to :(

In early July, The Dirty Little Secret had a house warming party for the condo she moved into a while (4 years?) ago. I had a rough night at the party. I realized I a few unresolved issues, in a way that made me the drama of the party :(

This is going to take too long, let me sum up. Here's a list of things I've had to deal with in last few months that make me wish I didn't have to deal with adult things:

• I changed jobs. This isn't a bad thing, but it was big for me.
• I had my car stolen.
• I found out I might becoming anemic.
• I spent hours at friend's party crying in a bedroom.
• I had to go to court as a witness, because my car was stolen.
• I realized I have a lot of unresolved issues with The Ex.
• I hired a lawyer to hopefully get me off the title of The Ex's house.
• I started going to therapy, because lots of issues.
• I had to stop completely stop talking to one of my friends because our "friendship" was causing me way too much stress.
• I am looking into buying a house.

I would like to go take a nap now.

A nice long nap, preferably in a bed instead of on a desk.

The RN: The Friend Zone

Following on from the last blog, perhaps the most important reason a woman says no is because she can.

No is an appropriate and acceptable response.
via BuzzFeed.

I'd like to talk about how much I hate the Friend Zone. Let me start with what I consider to be the Friend Zone. Not every guy I know is in the Friend Zone. In many of them are friends, simply friends. That does not put you in the Friend Zone. For the me the Friend Zone is reserved for people who don't actually want to be my friend, but approach me as a friend into order to get closer to me so they can try to sleep with me. This means that you, sir, are lying to me to try to sleep me. I hope there is special ring of hell for these people.

The RN: Why Women are so Picky about Sex

Women are picky about sex. Even when we're not being picky, we're still being picky. Why? Because we are taught from a young age by our parents, our friends, your friends, and society we are The Guardians of the Pussy. We are literally taught it is our "job" to say no. Just think about that for a minute. We are taught it's our fault every time we have sex because we could have said no. Talk about Rape Culture.

via Buzzfeed

So, getting started on my list of why we are picky is this: guilt sucks, if we are going to accept the guilt from having said yes when we could have said no, you had better be worth it.

When I get to place where I'm legitimately thinking about fucking you, one of the first things going through my head is "is this gonna be worth it?" To be fair, by this point I already know I'm attracted to you or I wouldn't be thinking about fucking you. Next on the list is, in an almost unconscious or not completely aware way, how will I be judged if I do this? What will my friends, your friends, society think if I do this? This happens most times I have sex. Yes, this is a big part of choosing a new partner, but it also happens when I'm with someone I have already had sex with. Pause ... contemplate ... I am thinking about whether I'm going to be judged even if we've already slept together. Why would I worry about it? Because:

via Buzzfeed

Don't let societies' ideal put pressure on me? Fuck. You. When was the last time you had to deal with conflicting pressures about how to live your life? Did you worry about fitting in? Oh, you did? Of course you fucking did! Because we are social creatures by nature and no matter how rebellious we may be, society still matters to us.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, why women are picky about sex. The next topic on my list is: women face more possible consequences from sex.

First, many STDs (I am child of the 90s and refuse to use STI; it's the same damn thing!) affect women more than men. What, I'm crying wolf? Fine. Don't take my word for it:

• "Sexually transmitted diseases (STDs) remain a major public health challenge in the U.S., especially among women, who disproportionately bear the long-term consequences of STDs." - The CDC
• "[STDs] impact men and women differently, and in women, can lead to long-term problems like infertility." - Jamaica Observer
• "A woman’s internal anatomy creates a virtual breeding ground for infection, as bacteria can become lodged more deeply in the body and breed more easily in a wet environment." - Get RI
• If that's not enough, Google it.

Second, Hello! Pregnancy! I don't want to hear your post feminism BS about this affects the man as well. I know, but I don't care because at the end of the day, it's my body going through it. There are a lot of risks to women during pregnancy. And, from what I have seen, it's miserable and extremely uncomfortable. But at the end, hey, now you have a kid! Yay! Just what society ordered; smile. And just about everything I don't want. Even if you do want kids, it still changes your body in ways many people don't understand. There is never a question on who the mother is, your life, and your body, will never be the same. Which is fine if that is something you want, but it's not fine if you have guys claiming we don't need condoms.

I do not want to deal with this.
via Show and Tell

Last topic, for this blog, on my list: sex is an invasion, literally.

When we have sex, your body invades my body. Stop for just a second and think about an erect penis. Yours, your friend's, your boyfriend's, your friend's boyfriend's, your husband's, a porn star's, anybody's, or a baby holding an apple. Now think about something that size rooting around in your organs.... Something you don't have control over.... Something under someone else's control.... Something someone stronger than you controls.... Someone stronger than you controlling a foreign object rooting around your internal organs. It's a wonder women agree to have sex at all.

None of this to say women don't enjoy sex, but it's about a lot more than satisfying our hormones in the moment. Also, hello? have you read the rest of this blog? I love having sex, but not so much that I will sacrifice myself or my morals for it.

The RN: Who's in my Mouth?

Wait! What?

Yeah, that's what I said, "Who's in my Mouth?"

The other weekend The Sonnet, a random guy friend, and I went to local diner after our friend's birthday party. As we were leaving, our guy friend left us to walk home when The Sonnet and I turned to catch a cab back home, when this random child boy guy showed up out of nowhere. He was staring at me and then declared I was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen and asked if our friend was my boyfriend. This immediately made me suspicious since we all know, I don't think I'm super great looking.

Wait, how old are you?

Then he tries to take my box of food and hand it to The Sonnet, which did not amuse her. Then he walks right up to me and starts kissing me. I think he may have mentioned his name but I was still trying to figure out what was going on and all the sudden there's a tongue in my mouth. I was totally taken aback, I mean really who does that? Meanwhile, The Sonnet had caught a cab, so when he pulled back and said we should exchange numbers, I managed to say I had to get in the cab and left quickly.

In the cab ,The Sonnet and I were talking about what happened and the cab driver tells me I broke the guy's heart. And he was so sad he was going to jump off the roof of the diner where we had been.  We all laughed about it on the way home. When we got home I told The Sonnet I was going to put my food in the fridge and then go wash my mouth. Which I did. Promptly.

Although somewhat flattering, it was mostly disconcerting to have someone just walk up and kiss me without any preamble.

The RN: Dating Coworkers ... or ... Not ... Ever ... Never Ever

Okay, I have a rule about dating coworkers; it's very simple: I DON'T!

I don't date coworkers. I don't former coworkers. I don't date future coworkers. End. Of. Story.

Now admittedly not dating future coworkers can be a little harder since I can't really predict the future, but you get the idea. Mainly, as I've said before, this is because I want to maintain a professional appearance at work and because work is for working not for fucking.

Listen up, Ken, and everyone else.
(Borrowed from Quit or Not.)

I have recently switched jobs. Go me. Things are much better and I'm back to doing something I love and am really good at. Okay enough work talk, that's not what this blog is about. But, the job change has created some attention (50+ FaceBook likes - I think that's a record for me) and caused quite a few people who normally don't keep ... super in touch? ... with me to reach out to say, "Congrats!" Which is totally awesome, for the most part.

Of course, one of the people to reach out was Pajama Guy. If you recall this guys was both an Awkward Friend, "an old manger type", and married with kids. This guys has so many strikes against him, the rest of the team has stopped batting. Just ugh. And also:

All of the NO!
(Borrowed from FedUpUSA.)

BUT, that's not even the worst. I found out two of my old coworkers were taking bets on whether I was ... um ... dating ... one of my other coworkers. DAMN IT! This is exactly why I don't date coworkers. I politely (at least I hope it was politely - I may have been a little worked up at this point) reiterated I don't date coworkers. I was told the bettors took this into account. To which I replied: they didn't take it into account enough; it's not a flexible rule.

Damn Millennials! Do more work and less talking!
(Borrowed from Comedy Central.)

Just to be clear, if I met you at work - you have no chance. Not sorry I'm not sorry. Those are the breaks.

The RN: On "Smile"

After my last blog, a few people started sending me stuff about being told to smile. Apparently, I'm not the one who's sick of hearing this crap. Here is some of the stuff people sent me.

The Dirty Little Secret sent me this link:

Why are women so 'unhappy'?

The obsession with our happiness is troubling. But maybe dissatisfaction is a fairly normal reaction to injustice.

The Slow Dancer texted me this pic:

Yes, this.

One of my other friends posted this list on FB:

47. Being told to “smile” by a stranger. How about we tell you to go f*ck yourself? That’ll make us smile.

This article takes a more serious note, but actually reinforces what I was saying my last blog. You are not the decider of me:

“Smile, baby”: The words no woman wants to hear

Telling women to "smile" may seem a small thing -- until you consider what often happens when women don't want to.

It's possible this article was written by my doppelgänger. Really, I think she said everything I was thinking:

CHICK CHAT: It Is Not A Man’s Job To Demand Women To Smile

A man telling a woman to smile isn’t for her benefit, it’s for his benefit! Me not smiling doesn’t mean Nationwide isn’t on my side, or I won’t save 15 percent or more on car insurance by switching to Geico.
...
Do not tell me to smile! I am a grown woman who deals with adult issues and while 80 percent of the time my life is grand, I’m allowed the other 20 percent to be angry, sad, or any other emotion but happy and I don’t need to front about it.

At least this guy gets it:

‘I Stopped Telling Women to Smile
(and You Should, Too)’

DAMON YOUNG REFLECTS ON AN EXPERIENCE THAT MADE HIM GET RID OF AN ANNOYING HABIT

The point of all of this is simple; it's my choice when I smile. If you happen to catch one, be glad it was genuine. Those are the special ones.

Happiness and smiling aren't the same thing.

The RN: I Get to Be in Charge of Me

This started to come up in the last blog, but I get to be in charge of me. I get to decide what to do with my time.  I get to decide what mood I'm in. I get to decide who I see. I get to decide what I eat. I get to decide to what I wear. And I get to decide who I fuck. Even if you don't agree with my choices. They are not your choices to make; they are mine. This is not about feminism, although I suppose in some ways it is feminism. This is about being in charge of myself.

I have the power of choice in my own life.

The last several months, I have been getting madder and madder at seemingly innocuous comments. I know these people mean well, but in the end what they are doing is saying what they want is more important than what is happening with me. One of the most pervasive comments is, "Smile." Why? I'm not in a smiling mood or I would already be smiling. Just because you want me to be happy every time you see me doesn't mean that I actually am. And you know what? That's okay. I don't have to be happy every second. I am allowed to have other emotions.

Sometimes, after I get told to smile, I do smile. Frequently this is because I was in my own head and I'm fine to smile. Other times it just seems easier than arguing about it. This almost always fails, because it leads to the next command, "No a real smile. Not a fake one." Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Leave me alone. I am clearly not in a good mood. Also. You. Are. Not. Fucking. In. Charge. Of. Me.

 I don't have to smile if I don't want to. (Photo credit)

And maybe when you walk by my office and I'm staring at my computer, it's concentration not anger you're seeing on my face. Maybe I'm actually doing my fucking job instead of being eye candy for you. You know because that's what I get paid to do. And maybe if I decide to quit my job to take one that better suits my long term career goals and is 1/5 the commute, it actually has nothing to do you with you. And you really aren't allowed to be mad me for "abandoning you". Because maybe, just maybe, I am making decisions for myself and I get to be the decider. Because I am in charge of me.

Blatantly stolen from Facebook.

And my choices are about making me a happier, better person. And not about making you feel better at the expense of who I am and how I feel.

The RN: Trying to Stay Broken Up

Time for a little catch up. I have sadly been remiss in keeping up posting here this year.

Sorry.

You may have noticed, from several of the posts at the end of last year, I was a little ... pissy about most of the guys I was talking to. So, sometime between Nov and Jan I cut everyone off. Or maybe I just cut myself off.

You're cut ... and you're cut ... and everyone's cut. I'm done here.

Why? You ask. Well, even though everyone who was left were really more of hook ups than dates, I felt ... used. I realize hooking up is by nature about calling texting and seeing if you can get together, but there needs to be some respect. This is a perfect example. In retrospect, I realize I was lot more upset by the premise than the actual words. Although the "slurping cum" line does come out of nowhere, I'm not really that offended by it. What I am offended by, however, is the assumption that 1) I have no life and will be available because he's drunk and horny, 2) even if I do happen to be doing something, I should drop it and come fuck him, and 3) his getting to have drunk sex is more important than anything else going on in my life.

Not how I spend my time. (Borrowed from tumblr.)

You hear all about how society objectifies women, but I guess I never really thought about it. Until this past winter. It's one thing when you see ads, or whatever, objectifying women. I didn't really think about it because most of the people I know don't actually objectify women. But, in last few weeks I've had a couple of guys from last fall reach out to me. One was almost angry that I wasn't talking to him anymore. Like I'm not allowed to make my own choices. The other one reached out like we had talked last week instead of almost 6 months ago.

While neither was outright mean, both showed a lack of respect for my choice to not continue talking to them. I don't think I've ever had someone, let alone two people, show such an refusal to accept the situation.

The RN: Love's Day

I meant to post this on or near Valentine's Day, but life. And I somehow missed posting for all February :(

For past 3 years, I've been single on Valentine's Day. Three years ago, I didn't know what to do with myself and was possibly freaking out a little bit. Never fear, TWS to the rescue! We went out on an "Anti-Valentine's Day" date. We went to non-romantic restaurant and saw The Grey. It was awesome and just what I needed.

Best Valentine's Day Movie Ever!

We went out again last year and saw Identity Theft instead of a romance.

Another Great Valentine's Day Movie!

This year we were all set to go out for Valentine's Day again, until my old roommate decided to get married in FL over Valentine's Day weekend. So, I got to travel through Pax to FL for a great wedding.

Originally, The PoolBoy and I were set to fly down on Thursday afternoon and it looked like there would be a break in the weather long enough for us to get out. However, by 9am our flight had been cancelled. Shortly thereafter another friend of mine (let's call her Boobles) texted me her flight from a nearby airport had been cancelled as well ... after she got to the airport. So I told her to get to my house since The PoolBoy and I had decided to rent a car and drive down there. To be fair The PoolBoy was the best man so it's not like we were going to miss the wedding if at all possible.

So at just after noon on Thursday The PoolBoy, Boobles, and I got in a car a drove 16+ hours through the winter storm to get to FL and make the wedding. And it was well worth it. Unfortunately, both Boobles and I both had to work on Friday morning :(

We had only rented the car for 24 hours, so in the middle of working I took a break to return the car. I went across the street to The PoolBoy's hotel to grab the keys from him and take the car back. While I was grabbing the keys and noticing all the groomsmen were luckily hanging out the pool instead of work, one of the other groomsmen gave me a hug hello. And then I was on my way to the airport to return the car. As I was turning in the car, the rental agent wished me a Happy Valentine's Day. I stopped and said, "Oh, that's right, it's Valentine's Day." The agent looked at me in shock and asked, "Didn't you get anything for today? A pretty girl like you shouldn't be ignored today." I replied, "Um, I'm here for a wedding ... one of the groomsmen gave me a hug." He told me then that was okay. And I went about returning the car.

That was the only acknowledgement of Valentine's Day I had. Now I'm not really one of those anti-Valentine's Day people (despite what it sounds like at the beginning of this blog), but part of me sees how it can be lonely for those us not in a relationship. And in some ways it was odd to be in the middle of a weekend celebrating my friends' love and be alone on a day where everyone some people are obsessed with love. The last couple of years I have been little like this about Valentine's Day:

Please just leave me alone.

This year it was largely just lost in the crowd of things I had going on. I feel like that's a healthy-ish place to be in. I'm not dwelling on it, but it's not getting to me either. And honestly, I have spent Valentine's Days when I was in a relationship more lonely than I was this year. Cheers, to being in a better place :)

The Rn: Vegas Baby

Las Vegas, Baby!

A couple of weekends ago, a bunch of us went to Las Vegas to celebrate a pair of birthdays. The DLS and her college roommate (DCF) have birthdays about 4 weeks apart and this year was the big 3-0. So clearly a Vegas trip was in order. In all, we had up to 11 people out partying.

My sister (RNSis) and I arrived on Thursday night since we know a bunch of people in Vegas. On Thursday night and Friday, we hung out with a couple of our college friends one of who had to work through most of the festivities (RNCF2) and one who joined us for some of the fun (RNCF1) even though she's pregnant - yeah, my friends are that awesome.

Somehow on Thursday night, while visiting RNCF2 at her job, I got talked into riding a mechanical bull. On a Thursday. At like midnight (or 3am my time zone). While I was the DD. And yet no one was surprised I did it. Hm, not too worried about that. The resulting bruise was less than pleasant, but, meh, it was just a bruise.

On Friday morning, I was digging through my suitcase getting ready to go hang out, when I noticed I may not have done a stellar packing job. And by that I mean I packed 4 bras and 0 pairs of underwear for the weekend. Um, that's not really going to work. Quickly, we added Victoria's Secret to the day's shopping list. Then RNCF2, RNCF1, RNSis, and I all went and got mani-pedis, because we decided to spoil ourselves. Then we grabbed lunch with the addition of RNCF1's dad - because he's awesome. Then we went shopping. Let's hear it for Victoria's Secret's Semi Annual Sale; I was able to grab all the underwear I needed out of the clearance bin.

$4 a piece? Yes, please!

Next, I had to wash all the undies in the sink, because eew! gross! those were in the clearance bin. Fortunately, TWS's hotel-mate X had randomly grabbed some laundry soap at CVS on the way from the airport. Of course, I was on a time crunch. So undies washed, then me washed ... and shampooed ... and shaved. Because we were headed out to Sapphire for some fun.

Hello there.

Well only the girls, the two husbands went to go gamble while we were busy ogling. We had a blast. We also quickly realized who really spends a lot of money in these places, and let me tell you we weren't it. Apparently, there is a certain ... portion? ... of the population willing to pay large sums of money for male attention. If I wanted a guy to grind on me and grab me, I'd go to a (night) club or get back on OKC. Regardless, TWS and I conspired to get the DLS up on stage with cutest stripper for public lap dance. Don't regret it for a second.

The next day a few of us went to Sephora, and I got talked into buying more makeup. I mean I did want some lipstick, since we sort of skipped that in the first round, but then I got talked into some more eye shadow too. Which, of course, I have used since Vegas, so I shouldn't be complaining about because it's awesome. And I love the lipstick too. As TWS would put it, "Le sigh."

Then we went to an awesome steak house for the big birthday dinner. Great food. Better company. A little drama. Sounds about right.

Then we went to the club for bottle service. It was fun, really fun. Especially watching my sister go out for the first time since she had her first kid. Yeah, that's right, there are normal, child-bearing people in my family; I'm just not one of them. Plus after hanging with her husband all of last summer, it was time to put her through the wringer.

Family torture device.

I made out with a French guy at the club. Who was pleasantly aggressive; if not the best kisser. I may not be big on makeup, but I am pretty sure his goal was to eat all the lipstick off my face. Still, it was nice to have some harmless fun. After a bit of drama (don't slap people in the club; it's not nice) and a bit of miscommunication, X, TWS, RNSis, and I left the club and decided to play in the Casino for a bit. Nothing serious just a few nickel slots to entertain ourselves. Shortly there after we were joined by Lily just hanging out having some fun, still in our club dresses.

And that's how we meet the Canadians. That and the declared craziest line of the weekend, "We're from Michigan; we fuck Canadians all the time." Well, okay then, just like that 4 (of 8 we later found out) Canadians were down without hanging out most the night, like it wasn't already 5am. Gotta love Vegas time. Even though none of us are from MI. A few grew up there, but not all of us.

Something like this, I guess.

A few of those Canadians even got lucky over the course of the weekend. Alas, this was not my year; things didn't quite line up for me to hookup with anyone this time around. I was on the hookup bandwagon last year. Pretty sure I never caught that guy's real name; sorry Mom.

And that pretty much sums up the trip. Most of the drama got worked out before we left, the rest of it got cleared up over the next couple days. Well, except for the part where TWS's ride home from the airport ditched her there. Fortunately, my flight wasn't landing too much later than hers and her place is on my way home from the airport.

It was almost a drama free weekend ... almost.

The RN: Porn is Supposedly Ruining our Relationships ... Again ... Still?

Happy New Year!

So, this was supposed to be the last post of 2013, but I got lazy and now it's the first post of 2014.

It seems like every few months there's a round of posts on FaceBook about how porn is ruining our relationships. The latest round on my news feed started with this one. I get it and sometimes I even sort of agree with it. If you spend all day looking at porn stars and your  girlfriend doesn't even like blow jobs, you're bound to be disappointed. Also, go find a girl who likes to give blow jobs.

I get frustrated with these articles placing all the blame on porn. I do agree there are some guys people out there who really do have an issue with porn, but it's not every Tom, Dick, and Jane. I think the real issue is communication. Porn is porn; it's been around since forever. It's not going away, because people enjoy being turned on.

Sure porn can create unrealistic expectations. Not every girl can take it raw up the ass 10 seconds after she walks in the door. And even if she can, doesn't mean she wants to. And that's where the communication comes in. So you want her to take it raw up the ass 10 seconds after she walks in the door? Why? What about that turns you on? Maybe, she can will do the part that turns you on. Maybe. But you need to communicate to find the line. You need to know yourself and be okay with talking about what you want. Otherwise, you can't expect your partner to know what you want.

I've made this mistake. I'm sure many people have made this mistake. I know I made it with The Ex. Shocking, I know, but The Ex and I had communication issues. Lots of them. I feel like every time I tried to talk to him about my needs we ended up arguing. Sex related or not, this was us:

"I'm right; you're wrong!"

But, I digress. Okay so I can see how porn can create possibly unrealistic expectations for sex within a relationship. But that doesn't make porn bad. It just means you have to have realistic expectations. Of yourself and of your partner and of your relationship.

I think we need to look at the other side of the equation though. Porn, by far, is something we associate with guys. Guys watch porn and get unrealistic ideas, or so the story goes. But it's not just porn that's creating unrealistic expectations. So assuming we agree porn is influence guys; what is influencing girls to have unrealistic expectations? My answer: romance novels/trashy novels/brain candy.

To over simplify, the plot of every one of these books is: 

• Boy and girl meet
• Boy and girl hate each other and fight all the time, but only because they secretly are perfect for one another
• Boy and girl separately realize how much they love the other one, but refuse to admit to themselves and others because they are both convinced the other one hates them
• Somehow something happens and one admits feeling, the other follows after some delay from zero to decades, depending on the "plot"
• Boy and girl live happily ever after
• Some optional amount of plot and side stories to make the story fit into a subcategory

We have girls being told love is almost immediate, it over rules all adversity, and you should be treated "like a queen" and everything wrong is his fault. Talk about unrealistic expectations. This isn't the way real relationships work. No one is always wrong and no one is always right. These books are showing girls whatever they do is the right choice and in the end the guy will discover she was right even if he didn't think so to begin with.

Oh, I almost forget the whole "electric touch" thing in romance novels. The first time (and every other time) said boy and girl touch, even in the slightest non-sexual way, they both feel a buzz or heat or tingles or some other such crap, which they have never felt with anyone else - ever. So now on top of everything else your both supposed to be able to tell the first time you touch someone. Some books even start this before the touching, when you see your match across the room/street/party/whatever. COME ON! That shit is not real! I'll give you butterflies of excitement at a new relationship, even a new hookup, or a first date. But to feel unprecedented heat or electricity without actually knowing the person? I don't believe it.

Months ago TWS and I were talking about something completely unrelated to this when she said:

• "i turned around and poof! he was there and i knew it was forever" 
  GO FUCK YOURSELF. ... even if it appears that easy, it never is. stop lyin ho.

My thoughts exactly! Real life is hard and so are real relationships. Nothing is as easy as these books are making it seem. Now some are more realistic than others, but in the end they are still the same story. I understand this is supposed to a fantasized version of life to make girls the reader happy, but I feel like we are being set up for failure. It's like the movie He's Just Not That Into You, where the whole movie is talking about sometime he just doesn't like you back. *Spoiler Alert* But then at the end of the movie, he is that into her and she gets the guy. That's not what really happens. In reality you had what you thought was a great date, and then he never texts you back.

But I maintain: porn is not ruining our relationships. And neither are romance novels. We are ruining our relationships. We are ruining them by having unrealistic expectations, by not communicating with each other, and by not actually trying to make them work. 

Or by trying too hard to make them work ... but that's another topic.