Big Fat Liar

I fucking hate liars. No, seriously, I'm not even kidding. Don't lie to me. Don't tell me "it's not you, it's me." And no, rewording it doesn't count. "I'm just really busy and I think it's best for all parties involved if I'm just single right now." Bullshit. BULL. SHIT.

I'm a woman, I'm not an idiot. If you don't feel the chemistry, that's fine, I probably don't feel it either. If you met someone else you'd like to try it out with, great, I'm not your girlfriend. I'm not fragile. I'm not going to cry over a guy I've gone out with TWICE. This ain't high school, my life isn't over after every guy.

This is ridiculous. It's one thing to stop calling. It's another thing to lead me on, telling me "let's still be friends" and giving me a big pile of steaming shit you call a story. If you don't have the balls to tell me straight up that it's not going to work, you're not worth my time, as a friend or otherwise. I have fucking integrity, and I won't buy it.

While we're talking about liars, don't get me started on the stupid crap that unneccessarily makes me look/feel like an idiot. If you think this top makes me look like a fat skank, TELL ME. You think I WANT to look like a fat skank? No. Sometimes girls need an honest opinion. Now, I'll admit, I'm not like most girls. I don't ask a question if I don't want an honest answer. Most girls aren't like that. Most girls want you to tell them those pants look hot, even if they make her look like a cow. Not me. If these pants make me look like a cow, I'd rather know it, so I can throw them out and get some pants that DON'T make me look like a cow.

On the same vein, if I talk too much or if my apartment is too messy for you, or you can't deal with my baggage as it is, TELL ME. If half the guys I've gone on a date with told me one thing that was wrong with me, I'd probably be married by now. I'd have found all my flaws and I'd have FIXED them. But I can't fix something if I don't know it's fucking BROKEN.

No, I'm not perfect. I won't pretend I am. I'm just another fucked up woman trying to figure out where she fits in the world. And if everyone I meet gives me one piece of constructive criticism, I might just be able to figure that out before I die.


P.S. I'm not always this angry, really. I'm just more interesting when I am. :)