Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Collect $20 at the bank...There is a sale at: The LOVE STORE!!

I've never been very good at poker or manipulative mind games that involved skills like that. Games of scheming, trickery, and tom foolery? I'd rather play Mall Madness. Game playing? Not my strong suit.

Mary J. suggested "No More Drama," and the Backstreet Boys asked us nicely to "Quit Playing Games" with their hearts, but today I developed this half-ass theory that perhaps men and women are actually just playing with GAMES with themselves.

I play mind games with myself all the time. When workin' on my fitness at the gymsicles I cover up that pesky blinking timer on the elliptical so that I can surprise myself with how long  I've been sweatin' up a storm. Here's the problem: Even when playing games with myself...I cheat. Every few minutes I pull the People magazine down and see that I've still got 25 minutes left to go.

And in games love? Well things get complicated there. Let's see if you follow me on this one...

When you really like someone, you will turn a blind eye on any and all douchebaggery that they share with the world. We create this wall in our minds. On one side of the wall we sit content with their dreamy eyes, perfectly styled hair, and wit, but if we were to open that little gate that took us to the other side of the wall? We would find unreturned phone calls, snotty comments, and resentment because of the  ignorance to your affection. This seems convenient for some. Not for me. I usually stay on the negative side of the wall..I don't mean to, but it seems easier than sipping the make believe mojitos on the other side.

The wall is a game we play with ourselves. It was a game when we built it up, and it's a game when we continue to scurry from side to side. Scurrying with hopes that maybe one day we could knock down that wall and they might fall head of heels for us.

But the worst game we play is the "In budding romances, you should play hard to get" game. Because of my lack of motivation when it comes to self-play...the game "hard to get" is a game in which I always just throw the towel in. Why? Because (as you I've discussed in the past Patience is a virtue...a hard one) I'm no good with patience. Games that require me to "wait it out" or "play my cards just right"...are games that just make me want to play Mall Madness MORE!

Playing hard to get requires patience and scheming. It requires you to put your effing phone down and not text him 12 times a day, even though you like him a lot.  It requires you to not say yes to hanging out with him 62 times a week, even though you like him a lot. It requires you to keep the your chastity belt bolted down, and installing one of those finger print locks you see in all those fancy CIA movies...he can put his finger there and open it after at least 14 more dates. :)....even though you like him a lot. It requires patience and trust. Trust that it will all work out because the other person genuinely likes you and wants to spend time with you.

Now, now folks..let's not go crazy with this concept. Playing hard to get doesn't mean being a bitch face. Go out with the gentlemen callers! Answer her telephone calls and take her out on the town...but in moderation! It's all about moderation! There is no need to overload your first dates into 48 hours.

Some doofus said that absence makes the heart grow you know what absence makes me do? play the super fun game "I'm going to effing Sulk because he won't text me back". I shouldn't, but I do. I sulk because I like that person and I want to be hanging out with them, but I don't want to be on overload. I don't want them to think I'm clingy so I just sit at home and sulk.  I'm a lot to deal with. They are a lot to deal with. Let's take a breather here. We just met! We all play this game with ourselves. "When should I call her back?" or "Should I wait 2 minutes or 20 minutes before I respond to his text?"'s not us playing games with that person, it's us playing games with ourselves!

We trick our minds into thinking that we know what we are doing in the game of love, but we don't. We're humans. Impatient humans. So I'm encouraging myself to practice patience..and stop the cheating :) It doesn't make the game any fun if I do that!

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Tune into the SUBTLE AWARDS...for some awkward.

If there were an awards ceremony called "The Subtle Awards"....I'm pretty sure I'd get all gussied up, walk the red carpet in a dress with so much sparkle and leopard print on it, have a diva moment and throw my drink at someone, and then lose in the category of "Subtle Behavior in Front of the Opposite Sex"....for the 22nd year in a row. Wahh Wahh. Basically I'm the Susan Lucci of the Subtle Awards. Maybe next year!

You see, my natural impatience prevents me from keeping anything subtle. So my solution? Just don't do anything at all to show that I'm interested. My impatience mixed with my...unique..sense of communication make a perfect awkward pie of a lady. Her name is Me, I mean...Madde. Her name is Madde..that's me. 

My road to the Subtles started way back in the day.  I have this theory that high school dances screw young girls up for life. Let me give you an example: My single-sex education required me to ask a boy to a the Winter Dance my sophomore year. After much brooding I decided upon a young bloke who was clearly the "bad boy" of his class.  (I really know how to pick 'em!) Let me explain him: He wore a lot of tye-dye in his free time and referred to himself as an "entrepreneur". He also carried wads of cash with him, and tiny little pieces of paper that he would fill get my drift...(who knows! perhaps he liked paper mache) We didn't know each other very well. so I decided he would be the perfect fit for my date. The night came when I was to call him up and ask him. The phone rang and rang. He answered. I wanted to vomit. 

Me:"Hi. It's Madde. You know. The one that goes to the school next door."
Him: "Oh ya, man....sure..what up.."
Me: " I'm wondering if you want to go to Winter Dance with me or whatever.."
Him: "Umm...sure, I guess so..when"
Me: "Next Saturday?"
Him: "Wow. Short notice. Sure, I guess I can make it."
Me: "Great. You were pretty much my last"
Him: "Wow. Thanks."
......awkward pause.....
Me: " Saturday..I gotta go...there's something on fire in my house. Bye."

Hang up.

Yes, you read that correctly...I told him something was on fire AND that he was my last resort. I really knew how to charm 'em back then. I think high school dances gave me a complex. (Especially that one...he ended up being a d-bag and smelling of smoke all evening... whatevs.) A complex that I'm trying to shake off like a piddle with no paper. (gross.)

So cut to my life today. I now have no qualms about asking boys out on dates and I wow 'em with my bizarre behavior and tactics. The first part isn't so bad..the second part...woah..What the eff, self? What.The.Eff?

Let's talk about my subtle behaviors on dates. Umm..ok..They don't exist. When I go out on a date with someone I really like...all logic goes out of my head. I suddenly lose the ability to do anything but be myself. GASP! And myself is too adorable for it's own good (ya, I said it..I love me..get over it). I just figure..well..he'll see my adorable and just fall in love with it...he'll love it so much that he will jump over hurdles to make a move on me because I'm basically like a puppy in a collar for the first time..wiggly..and then I pee on myself..I mean, what?

A friend of mine recently told me that if I really wanted to get the boy of my dreams I was going to have to make the first move sometime because my behavior on dates gives them no indication that I want to date them. I reflected on this..Umm.. I can't do that. I literally CAN NOT DO THAT. You know why? That requires me to be coy, demure, and precious like a delicate flower. Qualities I don't seem to have when out with the opposite gender. A first kiss with a crush requires me to stand still and shut my face for a second...I'm a mover and a shaker...and an over-talker. Here's the great thing about this though (what?? there's something great about this?? Yes. There is. Calm down and listen)..I used to think I was the only one with this disability, but I'm finding more and more that there are many other 20-somethings like me out there in the world. They just don't have a blog where they air their personal dirty laundry :) I do. (wimps)

So how am I fixing this? I gots to work on the subtles. Here's the thing...I'm a lovable chick. I'm a chick who loves. I'm just not a chick who knows how to express it in the normal "Look how I can turn into a perfect little lady, who is perfect for you" way..Does that make sense? So many of my friends turn into aliens when they are around the person they like. It's their version of "sexy"'s nauseating. I gotta find the subtles that work for me. Madde Subtles. No longer will I be the Susan Lucci of the Subtle Awards. I'm beating those bitches next year! And if I don't...I won't waste my drink by throwing it...I'll drink it and continue being fabulous me. 

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Mama, I'm a big girl now!

I love my Mommy...

So Mother's Day is tomorrow..woops! You didn't know?!? Stop reading this and go out and get your Mamacita a card...we'll wait....

Ok, you're back? Good job. Those flowers smell...generic. Better luck next year, ol' chum! Anywhos! So...Moms, they're fun, right? Right. They are. Mothers can drive us nutty, mothers can get on our nerves, but at the end of the day those ladies sure do love us. Damn. There is one truth about all Mothers: They would like to know everything you are doing..all the time..and with whom. It's true. All of them are different in the severity of their interest, but they all do care to know a few deets.

A lot of people I know share the bare minimum with their mothers. "The less they know..", I suppose. This spans all topics of possible interest to the mothers. Maybe you don't want to share the fact that you have a tattoo of a squirrel on your lower back with the madre, or perhaps you don't want her to know that you are secretly living in a Dungeons and Dragons naked commune, and when you say "I live in Boston" you really mean.."I pretend I have a fake dragon and that I'm a King." But, a common topic is that of a child's love life. No matter what our age, it seems we all feel as though we need to hide something from our parents. I have a few friends who don't even let their mother's meet their new boyfriends or girlfriends for many, many months.

So what's with the fear to share new love/like/lust with our Mothers? My theory..the mommy gets attached to anything new. So we fear that if we tell her too soon, she's going to get attached and be grumpy at you when you kick them to the curb. Here's the thing about your Mother.. She sees you happy, glowing, or even just a little less bitter than your usual self, and she wants to be a part of whatever made you this way. It's really that she just wants to share in your joy. We've made her endure all of our other emotions through the years, so why not the joy of new love? There's a problem with sharing time. The mother makes you answer the tough questions about a potential suitor. "Is he good to you?" or "Is she slutty?"..perhaps  "Does he come from a good home?" "Does he have a job?" and especially,  "Is she an actress..because if she is, run away..she's flighty!" :) Sometimes these questions are not things we'd like to answer right away. They bring us to a place of honesty when we'd be perfectly happy staying in ambiguity.

I've always had a pretty open book policy with my mother. She knows pretty much everything I a degree, of course. I've got a mysterious rep to protect, of course...and obviously, some things she will NEVER know about. :) But I trust her opinion, she makes me laugh, and most importantly, she can tell when I'm happy or not. I popped out of her..she would know. I don't feel the need to hide many things from her, or make up extravagant stories to make myself sound better. She knows my failures, she embraces my successes, and holds me to a higher standard.

Mothers want the best for us, they want us to be happy. When we came home with a bad report card we hid it from our Mothers...why? Because it showed failure. When we came home with an A on a history paper we shoved it in our mother's faces and expected to be praised...why? Because it showed our success. When we have a bad date, or a stupid boyfriend who we are seeing for superficial reasons, we hide that from our Mothers..why? Because it shows our failures or lack of self-confidence. We only share with our Mother's the things that we know are going to be a success. Does he want to marry you? Then you invite him over for dinner to meet the family. Why? Because that's a success in your life...and you want the parents to lay down some cash for your dream wedding :)

 So where's the learning process in this? If we only share our successes then we are able to pretend that we are flawless people in our mother's mind , but if we share our struggles and failures..our mothers can help us through it. My Mother and I laugh about the crazy boys I've spent time with all the's so much fun! I highly suggest sitting down with your mother and telling her some of the crazy-ass stories you tell your girlfriends. She will love them. A lot. Reminds her of when she was in her 20s. I also can guarantee you will get some crazy-ass stories from her that you may or may not want to listen to :) As much as I hate to admit it, my mom has some good points sometimes. She gets me. She wants me to be happy.

Life is all about adventure, let the woman who popped you out in on some of the details of your adventure sometimes. You can keep some secrets, I sure do! (Sorry Mommy) But it's fun to let your mom in on girl talk sometimes. :) Go kiss your Mommy and tell her you love her! I'm going to do that right now!

An open letter to the....GOLDFISH!!


Why do you poop that way? It seems gross to me...and by "seems gross to me," I actually's totally gross to me. I know that's the way you were made, but let's talk about hygiene for a minute. That's gross. You are letting poopsicles just hang from your little fish body! WHYY? Why do you let it hang there like that? I know you have great muscles in your fish hips because I see you swimming around your tank all day while I work, why not use your fish hips to shake some of the gunk free, huh? Answer that question for me, goldfish? Humans poop too and you don't see the majority of us walking around with that hanging from us...or do you, goldfish? Perhaps I'm being ignorant??

Listen goldfish, I just ask this of you..when I come into your tank and tap you so that you swing your little fish hips so hard that your poopsicles fall off of you...please don't be offended. I'm doing this so I can eat my cliff bar without wanting to gag. Thank you. And have a nice day in your tank.



Thursday, May 6, 2010

Get Your Match Babes, here! Five Dollas a month!

Have you heard of this thing called...The Internet?

As you know, the Internet is a crazy ass thing. It has single-handily changed the way the entire world works...(Thank you, Al Gore for your genius invention..) Businesses have changed, world views, social networking and friendships, and especially the dating world. In this little blog (a product of the Internet), I have explored how Facebook has changed the way we perceive a new love-interest, but what about full-blown Internet dating?

      I'll be honest with you...Internet dating? it gives me the creeps all up in my lady-business. At first glance it seems quite voyeuristic to me. So, let's see if I've got this go on a website, post a spicy photo of yourself, share details like.."I like cheese from the south of France. I have a puggle named Leroy.." and then cruise down the river of skanky on a flatbed of love-hope...right? Am I getting this correct? Just like I would never swim in the Mississippi for fear of catching some crazy fish disease or paddling by a dead body, Internet dating will never be for me. It's just not in my DNA.

Internet dating takes many forms though, so I should cool my jets on the judgement jacuzzi, I suppose.  I know a girl in her 20s who has joined a very conservative Christian dating site. She shared her success of finding doctors and other professional men who simply didn't have the time to go out and meet the sort of women they would like to marry. But here's my this busy dude who doesn't have time to go out and meet women, he will will find you on the Internet, he will have his secretary ask you out on a date when he can fit you into his crazy schedule, marry you, have you bear his children, and then leave you at home while he continues to have a crazy career as an astrophysicist? Is this correct? Am I getting this right? Let me ask you THIS question...WHY BOTHER??

 There are the super conservative dating sites, and then there are....the other ones. I've heard of sites in which people have to pay to join...aren't you just basically hiring yourself a pimp? Let me answer this for you...yes, you are. You are hiring yourself a pimp, but you have to do all the work! Scam! Those sites are reserved for one night stands, or people trolling for sex on the Internet, and then end up on those "To Catch a Predator"! You didn't know she was 16? Too bad. Now the nation knows you are a perv. 

I try not to be too judgmental on Internet dating, I mean, at the end of the day we are all searching for someone love, but when did face to face communication go out of style? When did people stop "going out there" and meeting people? The Internet has become a safe way for people to "put themselves out there," I guess. A way to truly see that there are other fish in the sea, but those fish that you are seeking on that website may have the same diseases that all the Mississippi fish have, ya know?  That main disease could be insecurity-itis. And that shit is contagious, so to put all the Insecurities on an Internet island is a bit like what they used to do with lepers. That's not cool. 

Where's the fun in the courtship of a new person in your life? If you already know everything about a person from their profile, such as: "Sally likes to cook stew on Fridays for her cats, she makes wool hats for the neighbor kids, and joined a synchronized swim team four years ago:...what's there to talk about on your date? On an Internet site you can just click past all those folks who have brown hair because you are looking for a blond, but what if that brunette owns all the seasons of "Boy Meets World" and watches them every night...just like you! You would never know! Suppose you met that brunette at a Ben Savage book signing, you'd know it was love right then and there. Her hair color wouldn't matter, would it? Let me answer this for you...No, it wouldn't!

For others, the Internet dating is for them...for me? it makes my tummy turn. I'll enjoy the boys that court me in person, they are the perfect medicine for insecurity...why? Because they make me feel so darn good about myself. 

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

He touched me...and it was awkward. And I don't want him to do it again.

Someone told me a couple of months ago that humans require something like 7 significant touches from another human being throughout the day. Do you get that? Think about it. Say for instance you are single, like myself....what are your 7 significant touches with another? Cats and running into walls don't count. When I am the giver or getter of a hug..I melt. My body and soul are telling me..."Madde! You love to be hugged!"

When in the presence of a new love interest..or lust interest..or hug analyze every touch. I'm a touchy person to begin with...friends, boys, dogs, babies, dog babies.. I have no qualms about a little pat of the knee, smack on the face, or wiping of my newly washed and wet hands on their cheek whilst saying..."It's my urine! It's my urine!"...(wait..what? that's bad!)

From someone you are smitten with..the smallest touches are the best. A little pat on the knee, brush on the back, or pinch of the cheek..but sometimes..the touch can be bizarre!! Ladies and gentlemen, the following is not for the faint of heart. Proceed with caution. I present to you....


1. The Ol' Hoodie Pouch Hand Grab

This one was truly alarming. When I was 17 there was a boy that used to come over to my house in the middle of the night. Wait...what? Jesus, I hope my parents aren't reading this. It was totally innocent. Je promise. Anywhos, while sitting underneath the stars one night...talking about our dreams of college and being bitten with the young love bug...he put his arm around me. So lovely..yes? It gets ugly..I promise. It was a cold spring evening and he was snuggled into his grey hoodie sweatshirt. (AWKWARD MOMENT APPROACHING!!) My little hands were oh-so-cold and he does the following. 

His left hand is around my shoulder.
Right hand goes into the hoodie pouch.
Right hand is threaded all the way through pouch.
Grabs my hand.
Pulls my hand INTO said hoodie pouch.

There we have it. The Ol' Hoodie Pouch Hand Grab. Awkward.

2. The Boy Who Cupped My Floating Patella Knee-Cap

Need I say more? I mean..Seriously? Come on. Weird. Stop it. Remove your hand. No, seriously. Now. 

.......and finally....


Perhaps you are not familiar with the pinkle tick? In other cultures it is known as the "Pinky Tickle". The pinky tickle is used by boys...yes, boys..not men..boys..who are too wimpy to hold a girls hand. So instead...they just tickle you with their pinky. Yes, tickle you with their pinky. That tiny little finger at the edge of your hand can be used for disgusting behavior. And this gentleman exhibited just that. The pinkle tick will come out of nowhere, when you least expect it! I was tolerating a really bad play and BAM! the pinkle tick rears it's ugly head. 
You may be asking yourself...Madde..why do you call it a pinkle tick? Well you see, in a state of shock I called my friend and couldn't form words. Pinkle tick was what came bad. 

So there you have it. The most ridiculous signs of affection I have ever received. If a gentleman can be respectful with his pinky, not drag me into his private pouch, and leave my patella alone..I'm a happy camper. I'm off to go get my 7 touches for the day! FREE HUGS AND KISSES!!!

Monday, May 3, 2010

An open letter to the....PEOPLE GOING TO GARAGE SALES

Dear People Going to Garage Sales,

I know it was you who took my parking spot in front of my house. I know it was you that plucked the tulip from my lawn. I'm assuming it was you who came in and opened my window in my bedroom last night, too...That might have been me, but I'm going to blame you for making me cold this morning.

Garage sale fans, chill the eff out. Just because you are taking your Saturday morning and searchin' for a deal, does not make me required to tolerate your stanky face in my 'hood. Listen, I get it. I get you are on the prowl for children's books from the 90s, or an end table with a lion on top and a missing leg on the back right hand side, but why did you take my parking spot? Why?? Please explain yourself. There are parking spots on the main road..why are you in my road? I should not be required to park around the block on my tiny little street! You have put me out, garage salers.

Here's another thing that gets me down. Stop with the gawking. My house is my house. Does it require you to stand at the gate and point for hours on end while I sit on the stoop chatting on my telephone. I'm trying to have a private conversation over here on my public stoop. You see, if I weren't'd still be standing and pointing, but the thing is..I'm still there. With you standing there, it makes the poop story I am telling to my friend on the phone VERY inappropriate. Basically you are passing judgement on me by standing there. Is that fair to do to me at my home? No. I mean, you already took my parking spot!

Garage salers. Please take your 99 cent flip flops and go back to the suburbs.