This should be funny, but it's not

Not to belabor my stupid divorce, but I remember the idiot on the couch (HA, and where else would he have been?) complaining that he didn’t really have any friends.  “You have friends,” he’d say.  “Who do I have?”  Of course, then I’d feel sorry for him and choose to stay with him instead of with my friends.  While I was at it, I’d chisel off some of my self esteem and toss it in the trash where he’d stomp it down later and then let me take it out to the curb because in the 10 yrs I was married, he never once took out the trash.  Of course, in the end I threw out the real trash.

Let’s forget how stupid I was and let me say that my friends old and new and renewed are some of the most awesome people I have ever met.  I am constantly amazed that they even want to be friends with me.  That’s residual effect of the mentally beat woman I was and probably from a lifetime of being told that I’m not a good person, that the people who are supposed to love me wouldn’t like me if I wasn’t related to them.  Hell, I even hated my brother because he was liked and adored when I was merely tolerated.  It was jealousy, pure and simple fostered by people who almost said things like: “He has an easy personality.”  “No one dislikes him.”  “He needs to be loved more than you do.”  “You can survive without anyone; so we can’t be bothered with you because our attention needs to be elsewhere.”  At school functions other parents would “adopt me” because mine were never there.  Everyone in school thought I was living on my own because I was on my own, always.

Don’t get me wrong, these are just statements of fact, not complaints.  I was spoiled with a car, with a nice house, with all my needs, with all the things that I “should” want.  Just no one listening to me and asking what I wanted which was often at odds with what I was told I “should want.”    I never wanted for material things.  

Some would say I’m lucky.

But really, I never felt lucky or happy until I let go of all the things I should want and accepted the things that were there in front of me.

My friends being some of the most important parts of my life. 

I spent this Saturday with friends.

Nothing special.   But at the same time a friend drove two hours to see me.  We met at the park.  Me, her daughter, and her grandson.  I took the dog and we did nothing other than talk.  Some times deep stuff.  Some times shallower stuff.  Her grandson hugged the dog, played on the swings; her daughter met with a cousin.  My friend and I talked.  We’ve been friends for nearly 20 years.

While I don’t know about her, just this comfortable talk with someone who I know will roll her eyes at me if I do something stupid but will still pick up the phone if I need her is something I appreciate more than I can say.  The 15 year old jokes are still funny, the inside jokes are funnier and the advice is priceless.  Sure, I don’t always take the advice, but I know she’s going to be there to say “I told you so.”  She’s going to shake her head, but she’s going to stick out her hand and offer to help me up.  We went to dinner after the park.  It wouldn’t have mattered if we didn’t do anything other than talk.  Hell, I can’t even tell you what we did talk about. 

When I got home, I let the dog out, changed into my sweats and was just getting settled in when another friend mentioned going to the mall to walk.  Five minutes later, I was back in jeans and at the mall.  She needed to talk; but, she also needed to laugh.  We did the catty remarks things, we made fun of the clothing other women wore.  We begged for size appropriate clothing for some of these women.  We went into a store called Charming Charlies, a place that sells accessories.

We went in to the store because I’ve never been in it.  She has a daughter.  “It’s all arranged by color,” she explained.

“Even I could see that,” I said.  Yes, I’m notoriously not interested in fashion or color coordination or accessorizing.

She laughed.  “Good to know,” she said.  I am pretty sure she muttered "bitch" under her breath, but there's no doubt that she means that in a good way.

We just were walking through.  The saleswoman followed us trying to sell us something.   I don’t know about my friend, but I didn’t have any cash with me.  I forgot to go to the bank because it closes right around the time I’m waking up on Saturdays.  We get to these necklaces…or collars…or what in the hell, who would wear something like this.

My friend held one up to her throat and checked herself out in the mirror.  Mostly because it was so incredibly hideous.

“That’s made for someone without boobs,” I told her.  “It’s not working for you.”

She laughed.

We found these wonderful bracelets that looked like Wonder Woman accessories.  She modeled them for photos.  The sales woman stood behind me apparently.

“She’s right there,” my friend said.

“Yeah, I said, we’re probably going to get thrown out.  I’ll just say we’re recently divorced and trying to accessorize our way out of our depression.”  I know it’s not that funny; you had to be there. 

I found a lovely pink gel purse that I’m totally going back for.  When the saleswoman asked me to leave, I really wanted to give her that sob story, I really did.  But instead something else came out of my mouth:  “Stay back you infidel or I will smite you with the fireball spell and your body will be so crisp that not even a starving kobold will feast upon your corpse.”  I think all the shiny bling reminded me of the jewels in a Dungeons & Dragons computer game I used to play, by myself, in high school, when I was sure that no one liked me and rather than attend anything as a “pity guest” I stayed at home and studied like I should.  That’s really the only explanation I have for those words.

My friend and I walked some more.  There was a woman in white stretchy pants which were three sizes too small and stretched so much that they were translucent; a large woman with her gut hanging out; a woman with a short, short skirt and a low, low top walking in spiked heels with this skuzzy looking unshaven guy in dirty clothes but we were pretty sure he has money.  We talked some more.  We spent an hour in the mall, spent nothing, and had a really good time doing nothing.  That’s what friends do.

It’s not just today either.  I said I was going to do this 5k thing.  People are really so encouraging.  To the point that I really feel like of guilty about dropping the ball.  It really confounds me that these people I admire and look up to would be so nice about encouraging such a loser.  I guess I’ve got to climb back on that bandwagon.  And if I accomplish this goal, my friends are so awesome that they will be as happy for me and as proud as I will be of myself.  I should say "when" I accomplish this.

I’ve made some great new friends since I took out the trash too.  Friends who can make me laugh when I’m depressed. Friends who will do something for me without expecting anything in return.  I had a friend come over after work at 10 pm and fix my cable.  I had a friend plow my driveway when I was coming home from Florida.  I have friends who will take my dog out when I’m running late or when I need to be at a meeting.

And they do all of this without telling me that I need to be a different person.  Without expecting me to do what I “should” do.

So, tonight I don’t have a funny blog.  I have one that says thanks to all of those people.  And I will try to be as good a friend to all of you as you have been to me.  In the meantime, I will try to brighten all of your days with a laugh, it’s what I do well.  It’s not much.  It’s not nearly as much as you all have given me.  But it’s what I got.

Oh, and one more thing: 

Charming Charlies sells necklaces that can be formed into battle armor for the rough days when I can’t be there.  I’d get it for you but there’s something about a “lifelong ban” that plagues me; but if you find the smithy in the next village he will craft said armor for you.  But beware, the path there is filled with monsters who have attacked many a party.  If they attack your party, you must fight them.  However, once you get to the smithy and put on the armor, you will take less damage during an attack.

I know because that’s how it happened for me.

Whores your dignity?

I want to be Jeff Foxworthy.

Only a twisted kind of Jeff Foxworthy.  Instead of the tag line “If…..then you might be a redneck.”  I want to have “If…..then you might be a whore.”  In fact, I’m a woman and we’re supposed to be a little more decisive, so let’s change it.  “If….then you’re probably a whore.”

So let’s go:

If you celebrate weekly anniversaries, then you’re probably a whore.

If you assume a date means sex, then you’re probably a whore.

If you sleep with someone and they then make your car payment, then you’re probably a whore.

If you change your relationship status on facebook for real so often that you’ve become the butt of jokes, then you’re probably a whore.

If you have sex with three different men within a seven day period, then you’re probably a whore.

If your friends can’t remember the name of the guy you’re currently madly in love with because there have been so many names for them to remember, then you’re probably a whore.

If you’ve gone back and re-dated every boyfriend you had from kindergarten through your thirties, you’re probably a whore.

If you have dated the ex-significant others of your ex’s current significant other, then you’re probably a whore who’s not afraid to mix up that primordial soup of bodily fluids.

If your friends take you aside and tell you that you’re acting like a whore, then you’ve probably been a whore for a long time but it’s gotten so bad they’re now just embarrassed for you.

It is said that women can be cruel to other women, and the above is certainly cruel.  But honestly, it just needs to be said.  I’ll probably think about not posting this blog more than once before I’m done, but in the end I’m going to do it.  Why are women so cruel to whores?  Well, let’s not forget that men like whores by sheer definition of the term “whore.”  So, a guy certainly isn’t going to point out that throwing yourself on your back like a turtle on a first date is undignified.

A guy’s reaction to a whore usually goes something like this.  A: “You know that girl?” B: “Yeah?” A: “She’s a whore.” B: “Hell, I’ll ask her out.” A: “Just wear a condom dude.”   And for this Guy B is totally grateful for Guy A for the head’s up to get laid.  Or they look at the girl and say, “Well, if I got desperate, I know where to go.” 

Now thinking, this there’s going to be some women who say “Well, you’re just jealous.”  Let’s examine this remark.  I’ll do this by asking myself some questions.  1] Would I sleep with the men that these women are choosing?  2] would I even date (without the sex) any of these men?  3] would I want the pressure of trying to remember all those names?  4] would I want to change the locks/wash the sheets that many times?  So let’s answer them in reverse order.  #4 No. In fact, I’m a bit of a neat freak when it comes to mixing biological fluid so this just would not work for me.  I simply don’t have time to change the sheets more than once a week and I can’t afford rekeying the house with that kind of turn around.  # 3  Holy crap, between the names I’m making up, I don’t even know if I can.  Still, it’s kind of nice knowing that I cared enough for every man I actually did the deed with that I can remember their names and that the list doesn’t take two days to recite.  #2 half the men on any whore’s conquest list are so far off my “acceptable” list that…well, let’s put it this way, it’s cheaper to buy batteries than it is to support some deadbeat who doesn’t work, whines, spends money you don’t want to spend, and complains.  Granted, I understand it’s possible to find a man who works, doesn’t whine, saves money for a rainy day, and is just happy to do fun things in your company; but these men don’t need whores.  Just like they aren’t buying over-used cars; they aren’t buying over-used women.  #1 I’m not a beauty queen by any stretch of the imagination, but I have my self respect and I have my standards and even if I forget about the trust issue, the personal hygiene issues, and the general lack of cerebral function I would not sleep with these men.  Of course, where the trail has been blazed before, I’d want a full spectrum of antibiotics to precede things anyway.

Most of the time the woman who says a woman calling another a whore (a real whore, not just a woman they don’t like, let’s remember that the name can be thrown around frivolously) are the women who are trying to make themselves feel better or trying to convince themselves that somehow all this sex makes them wanted, makes them worthy.

And that’s the sad thing about whores, really.  They’re like sad clowns hiding behind makeup…only in the case of whores they’re laying on their backs with their feet up in the air, searching for truth on ceilings everywhere.  Sometimes, they try searching for truth on their knees.  But try to convince me that being on your knees with your mouth full of something you just met is dignified.

Then there’s this new trend of announcing to the world on Facebook every detail of your life.  Honestly, I don’t get how someone can be announcing that they’ve found their true love every week, then making it complicated, then being single again for a day.  And if this is you, just because you don’t change your status, doesn’t mean when you’re taking pictures of your kids with a new guy every week and posting about how in love you are, we don’t know you’re going through the cycle.

What do you say to someone who has changed their status so many times you can’t even keep track any longer?  When they go into a relationship, do you say 1] how long is this one gonna last? (God, and I know the answer would be “Forever” which translates from the whorespeak into English as “Maybe 3 weeks this time.”)  2] this one have a name?  3] where did this one come from? 4] Again? 5] Really?  What happened to the last one again?  6] Oh, have we moved on to guys who have first names that start with the letter “B?”   When they go from in a relationship to single what’s the appropriate response:  1] Better luck next time 2] Wow, I thought this was going to be the One 3] SHOCKED! 4] Sorry, but it’s not like you haven’t been there before…recently  5] Someone else lined up?  6] Have you tried dating sites? 7] when you fall off one horse, you have to get back  -- no, I can’t even go there….

I say these things to the whores and the women who don’t like that label but are sleeping around with anything that will say yes – and newsflash almost all of them are going to say yes, not because they like you but because guys are preprogrammed to say yes for the most part---they just don’t think of you as the black hole that could bring them the disease that will make their most prized body part swell up to the size of an elephant trunk, turn gangrenous and fall off.  When you give the green light, this isn’t crossing their minds. 

Whores, I really wish you wouldn’t bring down women this way.  Every guy you flip over for without requiring some respect is a moment when you are personally chiseling away at the fabric of all that we as women are, you make us no better than the chattel we were once considered.  It’s already sad that we as women starve ourselves, that female Olympic athletes are discussing their hair and their uniforms rather than their skills, and we wear heels that ruin our feet and makeup that ruins our skin.  Don’t we want to be respected and cherished rather than used and tossed aside?  Don’t we want to be considered special rather than just another hole to stick a dick into?

I do not hate you, whores, I am not jealous of you; don’t you see that you’re training your children and the men you “date” to think it is acceptable to treat women like trash.  How can men treat you like anything other than trash, when you yourself are showing them that you are nothing more than that?  Don’t turn yourself out like a rutting dog.  Show your sons that a woman should be treated like a treasure.  Show your daughters that they have the right to demand to be treated like a treasure.  Don’t chase the boys.  Don’t give anything away for free. You are worth an investment.  Why don’t you think so?  Why don’t you see that it’s impossible to hold your head high when you’re on your knees with some stranger’s phallus shoved down your throat?

ASIDE:

You don’t know where that thing has been if you haven’t gotten to know it first, for God’s sake!  Even if you aren’t concerned about the germs, -- okay, how can you not be concerned about the germs, diseases, and whatever else is lurking …there, I repeat, if you haven’t gotten to know it, you don’t know where it’s been.  Hell, sometimes even when you do know it, it’s visiting other whores who are visiting other phalli….it’s a giant soup of goo…do you really want to be part of that?

BACK TO ORIGINAL PROFOUND THOUGHT

Get some counseling.  Learn to like yourself.  Respect yourself and you’ll get respect.  If you don’t respect yourself, why should anyone else?

Oh, and one more thing…have those calluses on your knees looked at, that just ain’t right.