Number Six

6. You know, I know I'm a pain.
I know I complain a lot. In my defense, I don't actually complain as much in real life as I do on here just because I created this thing so I'd have a place to vent but still, it's probably a real drag reading some of my whiny, never-ending, complaints about things that aren't really worthy of complaining about. I can admit that.
And why am I owning this? Because people (whoever you guys are...) are actually reading this. Why does that matter? Because maybe sometimes my life could be better, and maybe I do have some dark secrets, but so does everybody else and are they complain this much? Well, maybe. But either way, I don't have to cry about silly little things all the time. I can enjoy things, so I'm going to talk more about those things. Because in all truth, I'm a pretty lucky woman and I need to appreciate that fact more often.

Number Five

5. I never know what to say about me.

Ha ha ha! you're thinking! YOU is the only person you ever talk about!
Yes, you're right. My blog, my life, I get to do that. But seriously, when people ask you "what are you like? What three words best describe you? Bla bla bla" do you have any idea how to answer?

I don't. I don't know how I am at all. Sometimes, I surprise myself in a good way but sometimes...

If you don't like who are and you want to change something about yourself (ie "such and such feels that he is too shy and wants to be more outgoing) is that being fake? or is that just self-help? Whats the difference anyway?

Number Four

4. I'm religiously challenged.

Like you have no idea. And I can't even yell "I'm an atheist" and forget about it. Oh no! I kinda wish I could sometimes so then I wouldn't have to think about it. But I was raised Christian and even though I have some problems with it there are a lot of problems I have without it too. Right now, I technically consider myself an agnostic, but I lie to my mom about it because she just can't handle it. I told her I was getting another tattoo yesterday and she freaked out about how I'm "getting farther and farther away from God and hate going to church." I'm tired of hearing it.
I just don't think it is fair that people are brought into existence with no regard to the fact that they never even asked for it and now all of a sudden they have to guess which religion is right and if you get it wrong: HELL FOR YOU FOR ALL ETERNITY! BURN, BABY, BURN!
Not fair.
http://whoareyougod.blogspot.com/

Number Three

3. I fucking hate my boyfriend's friends.

Not too much explanation needed. They are loud and obnoxious potheads who don't do anything but get stoned, mess up the house and make it stink. The girl is married to boy #1 and sleeping with boy #2 who is by #1's "best friend" and of course, when they come in, WE have to leave. It's not like they have any fucking thing better to do than be loud and obnoxious so I have to make way. They eat all the food, drink everything and then some, throw garbage all over the place and pee in the fucking floor but I have to go to another room. Right.

Number Two

2. Sometimes, I want more from the man.

I mean, don't get me wrong: I Love him. Loverboy is my soul mate. I can easily imagine life without him and I never want to go there. But sometimes...

Never:

• Try to (or succeed in) make(ing) me jealous. EVER. This will backfire. Soooooooo badly.
• Lie to me. About anything.
• Try to make me feel lousy. If I'm wrong about something, tell me so but don't make me feel bad just for the hell of it.
• Tell another woman that "I'd love to but I have a girlfriend." Not if you keep that up, you don't.
• Give up on me when I'm being difficult.
• Act like you're better than me because: a) you know stuff about my family. I know stuff about yours too. b) you "aren't as rich" as me. My family is just as broke, I worked my ass off to get into college and my family has worked hard for what little we have. c) your life has been "harder" than mine. Everybody has a story, including the two of us; do not downplay my hardships unless you want me to mock yours. d) you know how to change the oil in a car. I know how to do calculus AND I know how to manipulate men into changing the oil in my car FOR me. We can be good at different things; you don't have to be a dick about it.

Sometimes:

• When I say "What are we gonna do today?" I don't want to hear "I don't know; you pick something." I want to hear "You just wait! I've got a great surprise planned!"
• When we are sitting on the couch watching a movie, I want him to start a play fight with me and stop acting like we're a couple of old farts.
• I want a bouquet. Of fucking TULIPS.
• I want you to tell me what a bitch I'm acting like. (Use this with caution...)
• I want you to admit what a bitch you're acting like. And say you're sorry. And mean it. And show it.
• I want you to figure it out your own damn self. 

All the time:

• When I ask "What do you think about this?" I don't want to hear "I don't know; what do you think?" I want to hear "I love it! That's a great..." or "I don't think that's a good..."
• When I say "I'm fine." I don't want to hear "fine then." I want to hear "No, you're not" as he wraps his arms around me.
• I don't want you to make me jealous of other women, I want you to make other women jealous of me. As in: open the fucking door for me. Do you have any idea how many brownie points you get for that one simple thing?! Stop acting like you're too good to be a fucking gentleman.
• I want you to quickly remind said women that you are unavailable and actually, no, you wouldn't be interested if only you didn't have girlfriend; you're not interested because you Love me, not because you're stuck with me.
• I want you to ask me what I think and actually TAKE THAT INTO CONSIDERATION.
• Pick your battles more wisely. You don't have to beat up the guy who looked at you funny in the parking lot; you do have to say something to the guy who was a jerk to me.
• Tell me when you just can't figure me out. Just ask me.

None of this is to say that he doesn't do anything right. I mean of course he does.

Awesome Things About My Guy Include

but are not limited to:

• He is so insanely thoughtful. Twice, little things he's done because of something I mentioned in passing almost made me bawl my eyes out.
• He lets me hang onto him for dear life during scary movies.
• He really, sincerely wants me to play video games with him and is very patient (and amused) when I get stuck in a closet somewhere and can't figure out how to get out.
• He actually encourages my crazy, sporadic hobbies and projects even when they are totally unrealistic or unlikely to be finished.
• He is terrible at keeping surprises a secret and watching him get mad when I guess my present is ADORABLE.
• He's a ginger.
• He thinks I'm beautiful even when I need a shower. Like badly.
• He has pretty awesome taste in TV shows. Except Jackass. I hate that show.
• The soap he uses smells so good.
• He always tells me that I can do it. And when he says it, I know I can.
• He deals with me wanting to decorate and  plant flowers EVERYWHERE.
• He buys the flowers.
• He's so much better looking than he gives himself credit for.

Number One

The 100 days of Confession have begun.
Here's the drill:
Confession.
Explanation.
The end.

Let's get started.

1. I will NOT have a "rockin' body" by Spring Break.

Wanna know why? Plenty of reasons.
A. I don't have will power. None. Squat. ZERO. I like ice cream.
B. I kept finding good "diet and exercise" programs but I never started them.
I get so upset by the fact that everybody seems to think that overtly skinny, like anorexic skinny, is what's expected of a woman to make her beautiful. I mean, come on. What happened to loving boobs and butts and hips and hourglasses? I'm an hourglass. And now all of a sudden nobody thinks that's cool anymore. So what do I do? I stew about how nobody makes clothes to fit my shape and how I shouldn't have to change my body just so other people will like it and bla bla bla and yet: I hate looking in the mirror. Like seriously. I fucking hate my mirror. SO MUCH. I will never be as pretty as I wish I were or as other people think I should be. One of my friends told me today that I had "one of those normal, forgettable faces." Wow. Thanks a lot. I kinda wonder why she bothered to tell me that. I mean, it was... unnecessary. But either way, she's right. I'm plain. There's nothing special about me. I mean the thing is, if I lost like ten pounds in the right places, I'd have the body of a play-boy bunny. And don't tell me people don't freak the fuck out over play-boy anymore. So why am I forgettable? Why do I hate my mirror? Why will I always put myself to a standard of "beauty" that I can never reach and degrade myself when I fail?
I don't know.