The Dissection of the 'Breakup Text'

The following linked article ran on the Yahoo Style page and has been making its rounds through Facebook, Twitter and other online sites. Go ahead and take a look at it before I add my own two cents - I'll wait: https://www.yahoo.com/style/guys-6-reasons-for-breaking-up-with-his-girlfriend-102902248168.html

I've copied and pasted the break up text as show in the tweet by the dumpee's friend. Don't tell on me!

Here is an excerpt from the Yahoo article that really struck a chord with me:

"Both of the no-longer-lovers are unknown, but the women spoke to an Australian news website, ninemsn, about her ex. “He was 30, had a job, a car and a house. Certainly not what I normally manage to attract, so I thought I was onto something,” she said. ”He was a bit of a nerd, perhaps a bit quiet, but a genuinely nice guy all the same.”

They dated for LESS THAN TWO MONTHS.

I said to myself when I saw this: "DO NOT let this gorgeous nugget of comedy go without comment! This is the cure to your writer's block! (Ah yes, the voices in my head are at it again!) So, let's discuss shall we?

Number 1: "You refuse to update your relationship status on Facebook." Wow - he would have HATED me! I know people who (in my humble opinion) update their R status the second they are off the initial getting-to-know-you phone call. Me? If my status every says anything other than single, please call the authorities as it's clear I've been abducted by aliens. I touched on this in a previous 'piece' (wow, that sounds literary!) that I called "Can I blame Publicity?"

To be fair, most of the R-status-updates-groupies that I encounter are female. Only a small percentage are guys but when they get on board with status-updating...whoa Nellie!

Number 2: "You won't include me in things like the wedding this weekend. I should have been the one to escort you."  Hmmm. It isn't clear if the girl took another person to the wedding, if it was a family wedding or if she was in the wedding. Let's assume, because that's what I do best.

A) She already had plans before she met the guy to go with someone else or someone elses. Wedding RSVPs typically are sent in right around the 4-6 week mark. Unless, you're me who forgets to RSVP completely and just shows up. But I digress.

B) It was a family wedding - in my world, if I'm dating a guy (stop laughing now...) for under 2 months and I haven't called him my 'boyfriend' (really, the snorting can stop...) then there is a reasonably good chance that he has not met my kids let alone anyone else in my family. Wedding? Not so much a good place for that intro (Side note: I say this from experience. I married exHub 2 after only being around him for a couple months and I met MOST of his family at OUR WEDDING.)
C) She was in the wedding. When I was in a wedding, I had enough to worry about (ugly dress, drunk partner, giving speeches, breast milk stains, peeing alone) than to worry about a Stage Five Clinger like this guy seems to be.

Number 3: "You are rude to my cat and that makes me uncomfortable." This is the only one he couldn't get me on because I am the owner of a psychotic cat myself. However, in my past life, I was VERY allergic to cats and would bat them off me with whatever it took when they, inevitably came to rub up against me. What can I say - I'm human cat nip.

Number 4: "You do not share your time equally and by now your boyfriend should be your priority." What the hell propaganda are they feeding their youngsters in Australia? I can't believe that her lack of sandwich making skills wasn't included in the reasons he broke up with her. If I were her, I'd have told him to go spend more time with his beloved pussy. In my life, my kids are and always will be the priority. I come after that. After 7 weeks, this loser bloke should feel lucky that she pats him absentmindedly on the shoulder as she passes him in the hall.

Number 5: "Your swearing is very unladylike." Well fuck that.  Said with this classic look:

Number 6: "You won't disclose how many sexual partners you have had which makes me think it is upwards of 3 and anything more than that is unacceptable." Wow - glad to know he's a card carrying member of the Moral Patrol. Quite frankly, unless the sweet Aussie has a STD, Bozo has no need to know her past. Our past is our past. (Soap box, how I've missed you.) As long as I know that I am disease-free and protected, there is no reason for me to discuss in minute detail my sexual past to anyone other than my doctor. And then, maybe not. Unless you've given me an advance to write a book. Then maybe.

I can completely picture this guy in my mind. He contacted me during my three week stint on Match.com back in 2013. For the sake of this blog, I even enacted a fake membership to go see if I could find him. Lo and behold...he's GONE. Seeing as how he was SUCH a fine catch, I can only conclude that he is the 'gentleman' (read: caveman) that wrote this text.

May I remind you that these two lovebirds dated for LESS THAN TWO MONTHS.

Single life, you're looking amazing to this (relationship status:) single woman who loves to do the Hokey Pokey alone while yelling at my cat as I am eating a fucking incredible pint of ice cream alone while writing my own personal Kama Sutra.

Will Jeni Get Her Groove Back?

Stella Payne: So how old are you anyway, young man?

Winston Shakespeare: Well, I'll be 21 on my next birthday so I guess that makes me 20. And how old are you, young lady?

Stella Payne: 40.

Winston Shakespeare: No, truthfully.

Stella Payne. A cougar before her time? A modern day Mrs. Robinson? She's been on my mind lately.

If you would have told me two months ago that I'd be in the funk I am in now...I'd laugh at you. Jen Marr with no libido?! Have the Cubs won the World Series? Oh. Not yet, but with handsome what's his name at the helm, they're bound to. Maybe my drive will come back too.

Theo. Work on that for me.

I'm pretty sure it's all chemical. I mean, a horn dog is a horn dog is a horn dog, right? (sorry for the imagery...I had this kick ass LIT today with grape vodka and tequila. Can't remember the name. Purple-something.) Or maybe...I've been taken over by aliens in the middle of the night and the person that's writing this is actually a human shell covering a mass of toxic green goo.

Lends credibility to the weird shape I am now.

(off shoot - THE Ohio State University bugs me. How much are those NFL players making extra by kicking in the THE????!!)

So what does this have to do with Stella? I'm painfully certain that if Winston Shakespeare hit on me right now, I'd ignore him. (I KNOW! Sign me up for therapy!) What the HELL does a younger guy want with me...a middle aged viola/pokemon/PS2 mom? 

Funny thing is...there seems to be an answer to that. Duh duh DUHHHHH.

A few years back, I had a brief thing with a younger guy. To this day, we are friends and he is CONSTANTLY complimenting me and my physique. (to which, I of course say, 'What the HELL is your problem!! You could be banging hot young thin chicks!') Ahem.  (I'm sure he is!!)

SO. I'd continue this conversation but I have to go take selfies in the bathroom and upload them to Tinder.

This Is Not Your Mother Talking

One night over a childless weekend, I was texting back and forth with a guy who, since I'm still alive and breathing, I find interesting and attractive.  He asked me a curious question: Do you like being single? WHOA.  What the hell, Interesting and Attractive Man? Of COURSE I must like being single since I've been doing it so long..blah blah blah.  But let me not exactly say THAT to you because I think I might like for you to ask me out sometime.  So I'll come up with more blah blah blah and smoke screens.  BULLSHIT blown through. I couldn't shake him off with my infamous nonanswers.

At the same time, I was chatting with a girlfriend who was complimenting me on my steadfastness on waiting for what I want. For remaining single.  For sticking to my guns.

WHOA.

Is this Double-Agent-Ness?!

While I was hemming and hawing with IandAM about if I LIKED being single and trying to set GF straight that I was no saint, I (duh) was so conflicted.

During the past six years, I have done my damnedest to let EVERYONE (I mean, EVERYONE) know that I was fine, perfect, glorious even as a single woman of indeterminate age (Oh, just GO with it!!).  And I am.  Fine.

I have three monsters (ummmm....BOYS) that rule my life.  I don't have a second to date (ask anyone who's asked me out in the past 6 months). I have rules that I follow - I try not to get babysitters for my guys when their brother is at school because I did that WAY too much to their brother when he was young.  I am perfectly content with a book and my computer. 

And that's just where the fibs start.

I can't answer IandAM's question now because it's a week too late.  I should KNOW this shit. I'm the one that wrote the book. The truth is, I'm afraid. I'm not smart, stubborn, independent..(well, I AM but..) I'm SCARED.

I don't know how to do it. I failed twice because I settled quickly for someone that liked me because I didn't value myself enough. 

Oh, it's true.

Plus, I never want (again) the label of 'codependent.' I left my fiance because he made a gazillion more than I did and I felt 'kept.' I CAN'T be unequal.  

So after my second divorce, I opted out of the 'relationship' scene, preferring quick and easy rendezvous. Very quick and easy.

But to quote my friend Geoff (Chaucer): Time and tide wait for no man.

It became apparent within the past few months that something was missing. I hit what could be my mid-life point. I could have gone out and bought a Testarossa...(I bought a tiny house instead). But I didn't. I read Buzzfeed. And thought. As should you:

http://www.buzzfeed.com/ariannarebolini/couples-who-should-be-your-real-relationship-goals?bftw=main#2s2j08l

If' I am going to move forward with another adult, I want to have the partnership of Macklemore and Ryan Lewis. (ha ha!  That's the kids talking!) I want to ride the waves. I want to learn and grow. I want to date. (Did I just say that??)

But how?

It brings me back to IandAM's question: Am I happy single? The answer is that I am, because I am unsure of the way to do it right any other way. Because I've taught myself to be this way.  I don't want to fuck it up. Maybe I'm looking for a teacher.

Single Woes

There are moments when I want to shake those people around me and say, "HELLO! I've interviewed Austin Winkler! I've interviewed Big and Rich! I can (envision me snapping my fingers) work my way around an interview."

And yet.

Not impressed.

:/

unposted archive one

 And she thought to herself....

"But when it comes down to it, if YOU give up - if YOU throw up your hands in defeat -  if you stop loving them and showing them their worth despite their fear and personal beliefs - then who else - WHO ELSE - will love them the way they deserve?  Because YOU know.  You know because you've been that person.  And your heart grieves at the same time it bursts from being so full.  Because there was once someone that didn't give up on YOU so that you may be here NOW, feeling for him."

And she nodded to herself.  And she carried on for another day.

Do You Really Want To Know??!

All of my boys have outstanding memories.  Although I like to pretend otherwise, they get it from me. And I know that memory, if supplied with the wrong ammunition, can be harmful.

I've been on a weird path lately. Letting things that I've overcome in the past make a little dent in my present. Letting them attempt to remorph my 'now'. 

Uh huh.

So hear me out. Let me shout this crap out.  These are the things I hear in my head.  They may have happened today or 30 years ago.

"

I had no choice.

You don't want to be known as 'big' right?

You're really a size 6? (said during my modeling days when I was 30 while he was looking at my boobs)

You're not my type (said by my husband)

We should just stay together because no one else will want you. (said by my other husband)

It's just feedback. Everyone handles it.

This is what happens when you take off.

You really graduated from NU?

Why don't you just take the microphone and say a whole bunch of stuff we don't hear anyway.

"

Now THAT'S therapy :)

Math

According to some sources, there is an equation that MUST be followed while dating so 'one' isn't creepy: your current age, halved, with 7 added.

Based on the way my life is going, I won't be dating until I get younger...

Sexy

Almost every woman who is around my age agrees with me when I say, "I just don't (mentally) FEEL like I'm this old!"  And before you start hurtling the positive reinforcements (age is just a number, you're only as old as you feel...) let me just remind you when I call myself 'middle-aged' ...well, you do the math!

When I was younger, I thought women my age were positively ANCIENT! Then again, those were the times of really crappy fashion- mom jeans, Reebok tennis shoes and long board shorts for girls. Frosted hair and frosted blue eye shadow would age even Cheryl Tiegs. Stacy and Clinton weren't around back then to help the masses.  (Side note: Stacy London is 45 and GORGEOUS. There will be a pic later) (Another side note: I typed "40 year old moms in the 1980's" to get some images and got a shit ton of PORN sites. Yikes. Should I look to see if there is belly fat? Hot flashes?) Here are some examples (oops - not of the porn people but of 80's moms! lol):

One of these creatures is Paris Hilton!

So I look over my shoulder and think, "Damn girl, you had it pretty lucky. Now don't screw it up and dress like a 20 year old while you're in your 40's."

Oops.

NOT that I dress like a 20 year old. I have, however been known to wear shorter shorts.  But it's not because I'm trying to look 'hot' or 'sexy'.  I can't help it that I have long legs, Under Armour has a ton of 3" shorts or that *right now*I  have decent thighs (which I have to use to balance out the rest of me!!)

During my day job, I'm the quintessential basketball mom. No cleavage, no legs.  (Hard to do, btw) Usually toting around a handy cardigan!

But, I've been thinking lately and have to say that the terms 'hot' and 'sexy' can age with you ... hear me out.

I think Stacy London (aforementioned) is hot and sexy and gorgeous and attractive and sensual at 45.  Here is the picture I chose to represent that:

I believe that all of those adjectives become about a woman's confidence and sense of self.  I feel sad when I see stores and stores and stores of skimpy clothes for our (your) daughters.  A girl should be taught that the brain is sexy.

I'm working on this now. I knew it and owned it before but fell into a relapse when I gained weight.

When I was recently asked to put on something 'sexy', I had to be creative and play to ME.  What was it that I owned that made ME feel sexy? I certainly wasn't a daily fan of sexy...But, IT ended up being something I hadn't worn in ages and definitely fit me different than it did before. However, it hid what I needed it to hide and helped what was there to help!  And (even though we tell ourselves that we don't need to look good to be good....) it made me feel great.

I try always to be honest...with a little buffering.  Last night I felt so content with how I looked, I took this:

Well, I guess the computer wants you to see for yourself!

Well Hello

Really?  It's been since December?  I really can't get into it all now, but HOLY SHIT has stuff happened.

House:  I bought it.  Nothing has broken yet.  Knock on wood.

Wood:  there's been a bit.  Not all good.  Not all bad.

Bad: ignoring someone after sex.

Sex: there's a time and a place for certain things and language and perhaps NOT on a birthday.

Birthday: I'm a year older.  Don't really feel it. Am not looking up plastic surgeons just yet.  Younger? Not me thanks.

Thanks: to the company I trust

Trust: I've learned to make sure I vet this through all of my emotions before signing on board

On board: MAN I love boats! I finally got to go on one for the first time in DECADES.  Had a nasty ass burn to deal with but that was only one of my ailments.

Ailments: Well, GRACE I'm not.  In a short span of time, I pulled my upper hamstring, broke my toe, got a head to toe burn, three massive bruises on my thigh, cut my finger with scissors, cut my nail off with a razor, Oh, and I'm allergic to myself.

Myself: this is what it's mostly about, right? MY life needs to be complete so I can raise three wonderful offspring.  MY life needs to be organized so we can all function. Taking care of myself is not selfish or haughty or anything else.

Else:  Damn.  There's too much, my friends. I will organize and write.  And write.  And write.

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