The Friend Zone: Women’s Edition

Women are notorious for taking perfectly dateable men and transporting them to a cold, dark place known as The Friend Zone. You’ve done it. I’ve done it. We’ve all done it. And we probably have at least one  “friend” that we’re kicking ourselves in the ass for friend-zoning.

But let’s not assume that this practice is exclusive to women. Men, I’ve found, do the same thing, and women are just as oblivious to it.

When it comes to The Friend Zone, there’s really no question as to why a man has been put there: the woman doesn’t want to date you. She will never date you. She will ask you to fix stuff for her, and she will bitch about the asshole she’s currently dating, but she will never date you, and that is clear.

Not so with men. They have what I like to call the Back Up Barn and it is here that they herd sad, desperate females with the oft-unfulfilled promise of “I dunno, maybe, one day, possibly, I guess.”

Here’s how to tell if you’re just another sexy sheep.


1. Obviously if he’s being up front with you about his other romantic interests then you are not one of them. Most women are smart enough to figure that out, so they pack it up and move on. But if he’s being deliberately vague with you about other women, or what his feelings are with respect to you, guess what? HE DOESN’T HAVE ANY. You’re a Plan B, sweetheart. A silver medal. Give it up.

2. If all of his compliments are with respect to your looks, that’s pretty much all he’s interested in. Feel free to fuck him all ya want, but don’t expect it to go further than that. Men are not as shallow as we make them out to be – he’s not pursuing a relationship with a pretty girl just because she’s pretty; he’s actually interested in her, on some level, as a human being. The majority of people aren’t going to enter in to a commitment with someone they can’t stand or have nothing in common with – and that includes men. If you think every guy who’s ever turned you down falls under that category, maybe you should ask yourself why you’re drawn to that kind of man in the first place.

3. You know how you’ll talk to someone every day, and there’s flirtatious banter and cutesy exchanges and winky faces and hearts and shit? Ever had that just stop abruptly, and suddenly your conversations (which you always seem to initiate) become forced, and there is absolutely zero explanation for it? There is an explanation for it: he’s talking to a girl who isn’t you. And if this happens every few weeks or so, he’s talking to a lot of girls who aren’t you.

Yes, people get busy. Yes, shit happens unexpectedly. But people who actually give a shit about you are willing to explain that. If a guy can spend three hours texting back and forthwith you,  he can spend three seconds texting you to say he’s busy at work, or out of town for the week. If he doesn’t, you weren’t that important to begin with. Get over it and find someone who does think you’re worth three seconds of their time.

4. It takes a lot for a anyone, male or female, to muster up the courage to ask a potential partner point blank where we stand as far as dating is concerned. That’s a really vulnerable position to be in – and if the guy snaps on you, gets pissed off, clams up, is visibly offended, or basically reacts in any way that isn’t civilized open dialogue, you’re a back up bitch. You exist solely for “just in case”. Otherwise, why is he turning this in to such an issue? Why would he make you feel about thisbig for asking a fairly simple question?

Remember ladies and gentlemen:

-You are no one’s second choice.

-You are no one’s silver medal.

-You are no one’s back up plan.


If you think that’s all you deserve, go be in a relationship with yourself for a while. It’s probably for the best.


The Ten Things Men and Women Need to Stop Doing In Relationships

If there’s one thing I learned at the end of a 6 1/2 year relationship it’s that you have to pick your battles. 

I get that you might feel right. You might feel justified. You might be applying so deep meaning to what appears, on its a face, a very trivial issue. You might be compelled to explain your feelings to your partner for the next three hours. Really hash things out.

What the fuck for? You could just drop it and make the sex. Aww yiss.

Less bitching. More talking. Here’s how.




1. Stop giving a shit about the toilet seat.

Who. Gives. A fuck? Is this really something you need to spend time discussing? No, it’s not the principle of the thing. No, it’s not a matter of respect. No, it’s not his responsibility. Look before you sit down. Just like they look before they pee. Why is this such an issue?



2. Stop saying you’re fine when you’re not.

You aren’t fooling anyone, you know that right? He knows you’re not fine. Stop saying you’re fine. Grow up and tell him what’s wrong and quit making him walk on eggshells. In the grown up world, we call that communication.



3. Stop picking fights during Guys’ Night.

You said he could go out. You encouraged it. You were all cool about it, like, “aww, baby, sure, you deserve some time off!” And now you wanna blow up his phone all, “I NEED SOMEONE TO HELP ME WITH THESE KIDS” and “WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU PUT ALL THE COFFEE FILTERS?!” and “YOU SELFISH BASTARD, YOU NEVER THINK OF ANYONE BUT YOURSELF!” lolwut? You don’t just sound crazy – you are being crazy. Knock it off.



4. Stop assuming he’s insulting you.

Sometimes guys don’t talk the words real good. But if this man really thought you were a fat, hideous she-beast, why would he be sticking it to you in the first place? If a joke crosses the line, tell him so – but not like a rage-fueled cunt. If it’s just poor phrasing, fucking let it go.


5. Stop expecting to be treated like royalty.

This just in: you are the princess of fuck all. Yeah, I know, every woman wants a boyfriend who will shower her with love and affection and shiny things and will bring her breakfast in bed and whatever else you think signifies true devotion.Tough shit – you’re not a fucking princess anymore than he’s a prince. You both fart, and are assholes, and forget to put your dishes in the sink, and swear too much, and your feet smell when they get hot and sweaty. In short – you are human. And while you have every right to demand that you are treated as such, stop expecting to have your ass kissed just because you have a vag.




1. Stop fucking up our shit.

It really doesn’t make a bit of difference to us if you don’t understand why there are guest towels and house towels, or why there is fancy soap you’re not allowed to use, or why you can’t use the good dishes to microwave nachos. You don’t need to understand. Just respect our request to leave that shit alone and we’ll stop setting your ties on fire.



2. Stop telling us that there’s a “better” ways to do things.

It might be your way, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s better. If we’re getting the task done just as efficiently and thoroughly as you do, then what the hell do you care? Besides, if you keep pushing it, we’ll just make you do whatever it is.



3. Stop bitching about prep time.

Oh, I’m sorry, does it bother you that I’d like to step out of the house in something other than gym shorts and bedhead? I know that totally works for you, but I personally would rather not go to lunch looking like a hobo’s asshole. And by the way, that old line, “you look beautiful no matter what” is fucking annoying. Stop saying it, because we all know it’s just a weak attempt to get us out of the house faster.



4. Stop treating us like bros.

No, we don’t want to be farted on. No, we don’t want to take shots for every kill we get in Halo 4. No, we don’t want to watch a marathon of American Ninja Warrior. Maybe sometimes that stuff is okay and we’ll indulge you, but that first indulgence does not mean we want to put on our favorite Affliction shirt and go pick up on bitches. We are ladies. Please treat us as such.



5. Stop playing dumb.

You are not Peter Griffin. We know you’re not an idiot. If you can’t remember shit, put reminders in your phone. Make yourself a list. Get a fucking whiteboard. If you didn’t take out the trash, admit that it’s because you were playing Battlefield all day – don’t tell us it’s because you were trying to fix the dishwasher or you were on the phone with important clients all day. We know it’s bullshit. We can see it on your fucking face.



You’re not a feminist. You’re a bitch.

There has been, in recent years, a much needed shift toward promoting body image acceptance among young girls and women, and that shift has been long overdue. I’m thrilled that it’s happening and given how ridiculous bullying is getting now, it’s a change that’s coming during a much-needed time.

The college diet plan worked marvelously for me (be poor, smoke cigarettes, walk everywhere) and for the first time in my life, I felt like I was cute. Not just cute, but hot. I kept my figure until I had my girls, at which point my body weight very nearly doubled. And while I don’t regret them for a second, it’s hard for a chick to go from this:


Me, age 19

to this:

beforeMe, age 26 (two years after my girls were born)

But I’m happy to report that, four years after my girls were born, I finally got back down to this:


Me, age 28, September 2013

Aaaand now I’m pregnant again. Back to the drawing board. 😉

As a former fat girl, I can’t express how nice it would have been growing up to see someone like Adele on MTV, or to see more ads celebrating full-figured ladies. It would have been nice to be told by someone other than my mother that I was beautiful just the way I was. Now, that message is being spread everywhere – advertisements for name brand products, memes on social media, news articles, school campaigns. And that’s amazing.

But let’s not mistake a soapbox for a pedestal, girls.

The fact that some of us don’t want to be fat doesn’t mean we hate our bodies and it doesn’t mean we’re “fat-shaming”. And when you post shit like this all over Facebook:

curv2 curv3curv1
t basically makes you a hypocritical asshole.

Who are you to say what men actually want when everyone has a different type? If a man doesn’t like your curves, or your extra weight, so the fuck what? If it bothers you that much, then lose weight. If it doesn’t bother you, then stop bitching about it. It makes you look petty, not confident.

Do you feel that because you have this new-found, plus sized self esteem that you can go around judging the girls that might have judged you in high school? Skinny girls, medium girls, fat girls, petite girls, Amazonian girls…they are all beautiful to someone. You are beautiful to someone. Stop getting so offended that you aren’t beautiful to everyone – that’s an unrealistic goal and besides, you should be more concerned with how you perceive your own beauty.

Pointing to a girl who’s skinny and accusing her of having an eating disorder is shitty. Calling her vain and shallow because she goes to the gym is catty. People with eating disorders need help, not criticism, and people with the motivation to fucking jog at the crack of dawn deserve a major pat on the back.

You know what I’m doing at the crack of dawn? Fucking nothing. Bravo, ladies. Bravo.

So that covers body image. Moving on.

I assure you a woman who elects to stay home with her children – whether she has a college degree or not – is not wasting her life away for her man in some meaningless cookie dough and PTA filled existence. She is doing what makes her happy and what she feels is best for her life and her family. She is not submitting to the patriarchy, she is not being a subservient house wench. I know many women who are stay-at-home mothers, and if their SO came home and told her to go make him a sandwich, he would probably be asked if he forgot where the fuck the kitchen was.

It’s their choice. Let them make it, and don’t judge them for it. It’s really none of your goddamn business anyway.

Conversely, if a woman chooses to go back to work after her children are born, she is not a cold, heartless workaholic who cares more for money than her children. Like the housewife, she is making choices that are best for her  family in her  situation. She does not love her children any less just because she doesn’t see them as often.

The awesome thing about life in 21st century America – for all races and genders – is that you can pretty much live your life however you damn well please. If you find it necessary to demean a woman for making more traditional choices, you are not acting as a champion for the feminist cause, you’re being a judgmental twat. If you feel compelled to chide a woman for making choices that reflect her independence or ambition then you are not defending traditional values, you’re being a narrow-minded asshole.

Knock it off.

Now let’s get to the part where I piss people off. This should be fun.

Ladies, I’ve said it a million times: if you want equality then you need to be damn sure you want everything that comes with it.

You cannot demand that a man play both gender roles all so you can weasel your way out of the less pleasant parts of adulthood. If you demand he fix your car, it’s not going to kill you to make the man a fucking sandwich. Shit, make him two. Have you ever tried to replace a radiator? Would you like to try? No? Well baby girl, here’s the mustard and the bread. Hop to it.

You want him to vacuum and do dishes, rock on. But if you don’t have a job and he’s working to support your pedicure and video poker habits, you might wanna think about getting up off your ass and dusting some shit.

If you expect a man to shower you with love and affection then you need to understand that works both ways. You are just as responsible for making him feel like a man, particularly if he takes the time to treat you like a lady. You’re not being meek and submissive just because you bring him a beer and rub his shoulders. You aren’t sacrificing your strong, womanly values because you cooked dinner. It’s a partnership, not a battle for the crown.

You can’t promote feminism while simultaneously expressing disgust or disdain for a certain type of woman, and you can’t shit all over a man and proclaim that you’re exercising your rights as a proud, noble female. What you’re doing is being a bitch, and no one appreciates it.

Now I’d like to take a minute to celebrate a few of the beautiful women in my life. This is feminism.


Debbie, mother of four, grandmother of five (soon to be six), housewife, married for over 35 years, and makes the best goddamn fudge in the world.



Kate, early 30s, mother of one, extremely petite, loves yoga and nature because she is a dirty hippie. Recently graduated college.



 Kristen, early 30s, married, no kids, holds a degree in art history. My kids love the shit out of her.


Tara, 29, mother of two, recently graduated. Black belt in karate and an amazing step dancer.



 Cassy (seated) and Amber. Happily married, no kids (yet!). Cassy recently graduated – with honors, bitch.

Jessica, 29, mother of one and a nurse. Enjoys karaoke and shopping. So. Much. Shopping. OMG.


Bitches Be Crazy

Gentlemen, your attention please, because I am going to provide you with some rare insight into the female psyche.

I’m not saying women will become less of a mystery to you, or that you’ll walk away feeling like you’ve gained some sort of innate knowledge about the opposite sex. In fact, you will probably end up more confused. Or possibly gay. But whatever, I’m hilarious, and this shit is totes legit.


SITUATION: Our pretty, skinny friend tells us she’s pregnant.

What we say: Oh my gosh, yay! Sooo happy for you!

What we think: lolzomg, she’s gonna get soooo fat.

SITUATION: A male friend that we’re interested in starts telling us about a chick he met and is in to.

What we say: Hey, good for you! She sounds awesome! I can’t wait to meet her!

What we think: She sounds like a cunt! I can’t wait to run her over with my car!

SITUATION: Our boss tells us someone complained that a shirt we wore showed too much cleavage.

What we say: Wow, I’m sorry. I’ll make sure not to wear it again.

What we think: I bet it was that flat-chested bitch that sits across from me. She wishes she had sweet-ass titties like these.

SITUATION: A friend cries on our shoulder because her boyfriend dumped her for the 18th time.

What we say: Oh, honey, it’s gonna be okay. He doesn’t deserve you.

What we think: You’re both fucking idiots and you deserve each other.

SITUATION: Between the ages of 25-35, a teenager bumps in to us and says, ‘Excuse me, ma’am’.

What we say: That’s okay.

What we think: Ma’am?! FUCK. YOU.

Part II.

What we say: Where do you want to go out for dinner, babe?

What we mean: Tell me where I want to go for dinner. Choose wisely, or I’ll be bringing it up once every couple of months for the next five years.

What we say: Of course you can go to that party. Go have some guy time!

What we mean: Although I’d prefer that you stay here and watch Grey’s Anatomy reruns with me and my cat, I have the inexplicable compulsion to prove that I am way cooler than all of your friends’ girlfriends, even though I hate most of your friends and their girlfriends.

What we say: Honey, you look tired. Why don’t you let me drive?

What we mean: I find your ability to operate a motor vehicle not only lacking but utterly terrifying, and I would prefer not to die tonight.

What we say: That shirt would look amazing on you. You should try it on.

What we mean: Your clothes are ugly and stupid. I am embarrassed to be seen in public with you.

What we say: Tonight, I’m going to cook you dinner, go in the other room while you watch the game, and let you do filthy things to me using a can of whipped cream and a ball gag.

What we mean: I used your credit card to buy $300 worth of shoes online and I’m hoping to soften the blow with food, sports, and sexy time.

Part III.

What we say: I’m gonna go have lunch with some friends. I’ll be back in a couple hours.

What we do: Substitute lunch for margaritas. Stumble in five hours later, completely sloshed.

What we say: I’ve gotta start dieting. These pants don’t fit me like they used to.

What we do: Successfully count calories for three weeks. Become so depressed/angry that we have only lost four pounds that we consume enough Oreos and gummi bears to send an entire diabetic football team in to a coma.

What we say: I hate my job, I hate my co-workers, and I hate my boss! Time to move on!

What we do: Continue working at our shitty job until something else happens to fall in our lap because otherwise we would have absolutely nothing to bitch about.

What we say: Man, fuck him. I’m too good for him, and he knows it.

What we do: Rent Sleepless in Seattle. Get halfway through the movie, a box of chocolates, and a second bottle of wine before sending a drunk text laced with awkward winky-faces and unecessary LOLs. Cry self to sleep.

What we say: Ugh, I look hideous today.

What we do: Spend an hour doing hair and makeup. Take numerous pictures in the bathroom mirror using cell phone and upload them to Facebook with the caption, “Just woke up lol, I look so gross!”

Poll: Favorite Disney Movie ***EDITED***

***EDIT*** If you selected other, please leave a comment indicating what your favorite Disney movie is. Also, please note that I’m referring ONLY to animated movies, not live action. For science!

I have a theory about men and Disney movies, and I’ve decided to create a poll to prove it. Because what better way to prove you’re right than posting a poll on your internet blog?

I can’t state the specifics of my theory at the moment because I don’t want to skew the poll results. What I can say is that I am certain that most men, when asked what their favorite Disney movie is, nearly always pick the same one.

Of course, I don’t want to leave out my female audience, even though I have no theories about what a girl will typically pick. But whatever, polls are funsies! Just make sure you vote on the right one!