c'est la vie . . .

Alas, for the past few days, I've been trying to help one of my roommates (younger sister) study for her French exam. I assumed I’d be the perfect tutor. apparently I was wrong and have been a "fucking bitch" - she sent that text around 11pm last night, FYI. We'll see who's laughing when we (not me) don't get into the college we want - whatevs - I've already graduated (IDK how) from a public ivy.

The title of today's first post kind of relates to all of this (? - debatable). I was never good at connecting the dots or summarizing shit so, let's quickly move on.

Obvi, as you can tell, this post will be a rant. Again, with this "rant" word. I don't know where it comes from, but sometimes, it just pops up in my head and I must blog. as mentioned in an earlier post, even though I keep typing "rant" - I swear to god I am not wearing army boots with black rimmed glasses and am still straight - huge sigh of relief for all the peter pans out there, I know.

so. in an effort (constant effort) to blog more, I’ve been reading other blogs (I know I’ve talked about this SAME EXACT THING BEFORE, but bear with me) - most notably 'living' blogs written by women my age. (p.s. - YUCK. women? gross? I’m not 25 yet!) and I have come across a disgusting trend - multiple (out of the 4 blogs I stumbled on, all four shared the following characteristic) posts and a whole lot of bitching about men, well, lets be honest, boyz.

Now, don't get me wrong, we all have our share of guy troubles. IDK how you all handle it, but I saddle up with a few miller light tall boys, three to ten shots of jager and send some inappropriate text messages to the first name in my phonebook I can make out. bottom line - I wake up (location not always known) and go on about my day unaffected. okay, let's be honest - don't binge drink because of boys - I binge drink because it was a _____________ (insert any day there) - but I digress. So, while I can't always relate to these poor, sappy, lame ho's - I've at least tried. Ok, no I haven’t - but please, let me continue to judge and bitch about them.

The Oprah-endorsed book-turned-movie "He's Just Not Into You" has been featured on EVERY FUCKING BLOG I've come across today. Not posts about how silly the book is and what a damn idiot you've got to be if you really can't tell that he is truly not into you but flowery posts full of emotion and lament - reminiscing about the one that got away, rather than the one to pay for your next drink/Yurman/light bill. As I'm sure you know, I can only get through 4 sentences of posts like this - and its not for lack of trying. I've come to one of two conclusions about twenty something some (most?) women today (based on not knowing them nor having a desire to - but forming opinions about them regardless): they are all fucking idiots.

Let me explain. And, yes, I've read the book - I was young, foolish and 18 at one point, too. Its not my fault that people are always into me. Seriously, I'm such a selfish bitch and have a horrible mouth but still, people always become immediately enamored/obsessed with me. Its a gift and a curse - trust. But, back at it. If you have to ponder (and consult a book written by SATC writers) if yo' man is feeling your shit when he calls at 2AM after an ounce of coke, a twelve pack and three tequila shots; yes, you're a dumb bitch. If you need to spend more than a second thinking about why he hasn't updated his Facebook status (tailored to the 21st century) to 'In a Relationship' - or at least taken down that he is looking for 'Dating' - your IQ probably hovers around 70. And last but not least - if you "wonder" aloud if you'll be getting a ring for your birthday/your half-birthday/Columbus day/boxing day - you probably aren't. Okay, that was a little harsh, considering I expect (and have received) presents - rings included - on all of those momentous occasions - but, quit wondering and consider the following four syllables: online banking. Log in to that shit, girl - and if there isn't a sizable amount of money set aside (unless you're a pot-smoking, free-thinker who doesn't pay taxes, use soap or wear shoes - a ring made from blood diamonds would be appalling - am I right?) you're out of luck.

I know, ice queen strikes again. Seriously - so many young delightful women waste so much time on bullshit - for example, my roommate (mom) always told me that if I would have spent half of the amount of time studying in college as I did drinking, passing out in front of my apartment, forcing boys to hop out the window, drunk dialing and three-peating, I might have graduated in under 7 years and stayed out of jail. I'd be married, have two children (and still insist to everyone they were planned) and who knows if I'd even have the energy left to blow out - it is a thought that is sickening.

Bottom line, the title of the book - "He's Just Not That Into You" - read it again, and again, say it in your head, and save yourself the .99 a night fee at RedBox. Continue lamenting if you'd like, reading quotes about living, laughing and loving while listening to Boyz II Men & Soul For Real (can I get a "Candy Rain" shout? now that is true l-u-v, my friends) - but save some of your free unlimited texts and no-charge blog space on the Internet for something worth my (and your) time. Ahhh you're welcome - and, in the meantime, I'll be having another shot of jager.