Mel

“Son, don’t date girls like that.”

This, said to my first roommate and I, at a Cleveland-area Bob Evans location on one summer (early) Sunday morning. A continuation of Saturday night's fun for us. YES, we were partying our balls off until the wee hours, and -- hungry for breakfast, no less -- went to our favorite local chain... in our club wear.

Mel

A rant from a hormonal lady who needs to get laid.

Every once in a while, this blog gets moody. Blame PMS (but not this week!) or the general nature of following an aging, hormonal 30-something with a bitchy streak. But today, this post has a little of the sad. And a whole lot of intoxicating influences. Also, I have to give credit to Kitten Kaboom for encouraging me to post this after her recent emotional post. I agree, that you rarely read about the lesser-than-awesome parts of a blogger's life. But we're human, right? And some of us need the outlet...

Mel

Two random douchebags

Two nights ago, I received a text between 11pm and midnight advising me of a new Vegas phone number. FOR A RANDOM EX FROM THREE SUMMERS AGO. First, WTF? He still has my number saved? Two, fucking douche. I haven’t talked/seen/heard from him in slightly less than three years. Infinity: I don’t fucking care. I mean, that’s like twelve cell phones ago. Damn, I have a lot of...

Mel

How a kitchen reminds me of past relationships.

There are several random thoughts I had of kitchen supplies or habits and objects from relationships lost. Nothing to do with just cooking either because there’s really only one other than my current man — who holds the gold medal in making my tummy happy. Unless you count Velveeta Shells & Cheese as a meal cooked BECAUSE I CERTAINLY DO NOT. I used to own a super-cute, full set of shabby...

Mel

Be a Cougar. Not a Tiger.

By now, the entire world over is aware of (and probably exhausted with) the Tiger Woods’ scandal. While most held Tiger in some high regard (as if he were above CHEATING on his wife), is it really all that surprising that an always-traveling, multi-million-dollar-worth professional athlete had marriage problems? I’ve been wanting to weigh in on this situation for a while. Tiger’s problems...

Mel

Valentine’s Day Ghosts

This year is nice. Yes, nice that I don’t need to complain all over my blog that I don’t have a boyfriend, and that I’m so lonely and the holiday doesn’t mean anything, puke, puke, puke… I like that AB & I have made plans to do our “Valentine” shit together (regardless of how I feel/don’t feel about the inane holiday that WAY too many put the stock of...

Mel

YOU may be a stalker. But I am not.

In a weird twist of randomness, I purchased a vintage desk online to eventually refinish into a bedroom vanity (you know, when a second bedroom exists in my life, and I have room for sanding and paint fumes). That in itself is not random (OK, perhaps if you didn’t realize I like vintage furniture it may be, so there you go), but the LOCATION of the pickup was random. When Cool Seller (who read my...

Mel

Those slimy assholes are like disgusting slugs. Go back to your rock!

It’s Friday, so why not end the week with a slimy asshole story? I should invest in some rubber stamps imprinted with the word “loser” so I can mark each new jerk… I’ll call this one Real World because at first meeting, he reminded me of a past cast member (with the same first name. Weird). Anyways, we were drinking/party buddies for a few years, and then one drunken hot...

Mel

Sidecars are for bitches.

I’ve been lucky to not have the pleasure of running into any exes lately. Save for the ones with whom I am actual friends… and that have maintained a low profile in the douchbag categorization. This past Wednesday, while out with AB, I came one degree shy (of running into, not becoming a douchebag myself) by seeing LD’s (“Last Douche”) friend. I was casually strolling through...

Mel

Sure. Makes perfect sense…

The ass who stood me up last week? Texted me Saturday: What are you up to tonight? While I imagine he could have been drunk at 4 in the afternoon (I was, for sure), what the fuck is all that about? Being that he reappeared a week later, I could only muster, “Are you kidding me?” from my depths of the Chicago bars. (And I think a couple hours later, when I realized that I had turned my iPhone...

Mel

I get fucked over? You get lucky.

Bet you didn’t think you would see me this morning in your Reader, eh? Yeah yeah. So much for self-imposed blogging hiatus, but really, Fuck You. Nobody ever said I was good at playing by the rules. Or religion for that matter. This disservice brought to you by “I have a dating story doozie,” which goes against all my beliefs for dating during Lent as well, but come with me for a minute....

Mel

Things to do when you’re Suddenly Single:

1. Surround yourself with friends This makes for an obvious “duh,” but I really enjoyed spilling my unwanted emotions over kafta rolls and fatoosh at Nate’s Deli and releasing the fury of my fruit  and cheese cravings at the West Side Market.  Follow that by a night of laughing at Cleveland’s Douchebaggery at Cadillac Ranch & Bar Room, and well, it’s a recipe for...

Mel

I’m writing this post in my best bitch

Yes. HG and I are done. But let’s make this retroactive to our initial meeting, shall we, Shady McShadester? I did not want to date him. I did not like him. I did not trust him. I canceled our date(s). Then I gave in after his persistence in wanting to take me out. HIS. And partially because my plans fell through that weekend to see SSD in Cincinnati. We settled into a decent courtship. We had fun. I...

Mel

You men are all cowards, I swear.

I was all ready to post a 1,500-word essay this morning, but for whatever reason my document saved as blank on my jump drive. I swear if it’s not saved on my laptop when I get home, I will bash nuts. Meanwhile, some Monday entertainment forwarded from a friend today in e-mail. Good read. I’d like some thoughts from the male population about why you’re such pussies when it comes to both...

Mel

There are no bad dates. Just assholes for setting us up with them.

After chortling over a received text message with the words: date FAIL!, I thought about what makes for a good date and likewise for the bad. Cleveland Magazine asked me a similarly worded query years (ack, five) ago, and I think it’s still on point. Activity-based dates are still on the top of my list; I still want to do more camping and rock climbing and kayaking… and *sigh* I cannot WAIT for...

Mel

Unknown

I purged some more numbers from my contacts on my cell a couple weeks ago. Not surprisingly, after an endless stream of holidays wishes came via text, I received a message from an unrecognized number with a “Happy Thanksgiving” attached. It was all caps too, which just makes it doubly annoying.

Mel

My chance at TMI! (aka: how to get in my pants)

That’s too much (sexual) information. Courtesy of Dear Sugar – Weird Sex Statistics (and I’ll work through the quiz with you). Question 1: How long does the average sex session last (foreplay not included)? Seven, 11 or 18 minutes? This makes me feel very, very sad. Kind of like the time when I dated a guy that was ALWAYS about seven minutes. Good thing he was horny in the morning, and...

Mel

Apparently you would like me to tell you to fuck off again.

10SB left another voice message today. Why he bothered is beyond my scope of understanding. Even in his message he sadly proclaimed, “I know you’re not going to return my call.” And again, he hopes I am well. I forgot. Didn’t he say in his last message – OVER A MONTH AGO – that he wouldn’t bother me again? (etc., etc.) Non-private message to 10SB: You’re not...

Mel

So disgusting, I almost forgot to barf.

Ew. Found an e-mail that I sent to a friend at the beginning Mr. Waffles: Subject: You deserve it! I think you deserve a big “thank you” from me today. Yeah, I know it’s early on with whatever status our relationship is and all that crap, but I feel as though meeting him means there are wonderful people out there just perfect for me.  I about melted when he told me Saturday night how...

Mel

I see you looking at me like that!

I got “that look” from my sister when we at dinner together over the weekend. Not to be confused with “that” look, obviously. But that look of smug disdain while I rehashed my story of 10SB’s attempt in trying to communicate with me (multiple times) since the breakup, and my apathetic-ness towards it all. That look of “oh, we liked him” followed partially by a sigh...