The Bitter Girls’ Diary

That’s a mouthful. The bitter girl who can’t so much as boil water has been baking cakes, cupcakes and even muffins! A regular Betty Crocker if you ask me.

I know it’s been a while but I’ve been working at life all around. Trying to accept myself for who I am and appreciating my job instead of bitching about it everyday. Working? Not really, but at least I tried.

So I’ve been holding out on all of you about my love life – I didn’t want to cut my flowers before they blossomed, but I guess now is as good a time as any. Back in August my “friend” called me and we had a very long conversation about a future together.

Some background – Cranky Pants and I never formally dated. We were never single at the same time, or in the same city. The last time we tried, I said no because I was pursuing a relationship with someone who didn’t live across the country. Long story short, he married his college girl friend who was pregnant with someone else’s baby. Less than a year into it he got divorced, finished grad school, moved back to L.A., and we spent the summer together.

Come the end of the summer when he got a job on the east coast he asked me to move with him. I asked that he define what we were and I would consider it. Seeing as he had just gotten divorced, I understood how he could be a bit commitment phobic, but needed to know what we were. He told me that I needed understand that he never wanted to get married again or have children. The complete opposite of what I want in life and a total deal breaker. That led to a very heated fight where lots of angry words were exchanged. We stopped talking for almost a year.

Fast forward to August when text messages finally lead to a civilized phone conversation.  He said he had thought about everything I said and didn’t fear marriage and kids anymore. We realized we never had a chance and thought “what the hell, lets try this.” He has come out to visit a few times and I went to DC once as well. We have talked about long term, moving, marriage, kids…the whole nine yards. All seems great so far, and fingers crossed, it will all work out. In the back of my mind, though, I still fear one day he will wake-up and say, never mind I’m not the marriage or kids kind. My fears don’t end there. Some think I’m settling out of fear of not being alone and maybe I am. Isn’t it better to be with someone you love and care about than being alone even if you’re not IN love? Then there’s knowing that he will never love me the way he loved his first wife, she was his first love. He did everything under the sun for her. And on that note I’m not pleased at knowing I will be the second wife.

But at the end of it all shouldn’t I just enjoy it and be happy? And that’s why I bake. The connection you ask? Well a lot like my Samantha Jones alter ego, I have a difficult time being faithful, so I stay home and bake instead of going to bars to meet guys. Bitter Betty now the Betty Crocker of 2008.

So this weekend was interesting to say the least. I usually tend to be a secretive person with the intense things in my life, but I felt I needed to share this one with all the other 20 and 30 something women out there. Much like every other Saturday night, this past Saturday I got dressed, did my hair and make-up and headed out for a night out on the town with my girlfriend. It was just two of us – some people were out of town and our other usual suspect doesn’t exactly enjoy partying and bar hopping anymore.

So anyway, we headed out playing it safe by taking a cab and staying with-in reasonable walking distance from my place. We went to the Saddle Ranch on Sunset – make a note of that location, for after I share my story, you’ll want to remember it – to have a couple of drinks and watch drunk girls fall off the bull. Neither of us were wearing anything too revealing or suggestive. We found a spot at the bar to call home for a few hours, sat down, ordered a couple of drinks and talked amongst ourselves. The bartender walked over, introduced himself and was quite friendly. All good so far. We made conversation with other people around us, and really were just having a good time. Two drinks later the bartender walked over with some pink shots that were on the house. I asked what it was and he responded with “the bartender’s secret recipe” or something to that effect. Without thinking twice, we toasted to the bartender and downed them. We had one more drink, decided it was time to walk over to another bar, closed our tabs and walked to the bathroom.

That’s where my memory of the evening ends. My friend tells me we walked down the street to another bar, where according to her I made out with some guy. Again I say, I have no memory of any of this. She some how got me out of there and into a cab. A few falls and a couple of stops to puke along the way, we made it safely to my apartment. To this point, all she found odd was that I had only had a couple of drinks and was sick. She says she thought to herself it was odd, because I can usually drink a lot more and am perfectly fine. I spent the better part of the early morning puking.

The morning after I woke up to see if she was still on my couch but she was gone. I noticed I was still wearing my clothes from the night before, changed, and bee lined it back to the bathroom. The room was still spinning. I went to lye on my couch where I passed out for a few hours. When I woke up again I noticed a hickey on my neck (are we in the 8th grade?) and text messaged her to ask about it. It’s when I learned what had happened after we left the Saddle Ranch. I figured I was ok, so I called my friend and told him to come on over and I hit the shower. While in there, the room started spinning and I got sick again. I bundled myself up and went to lie down, I started shivering and was freezing cold. I passed out.

At some point my friend came over (luckily he has keys to my place) and thought I was on drugs. He says it took him about an hour to get me to wake up. He kept asking what I was on and all I could say was that I was hungover. After a few hours, I finally woke up. We talked about the night before and how sick I had been and realized I had been slipped a date rape drug. After analyzing the events in my head a few times, I put two and two together and thought it had to be the bartender. That night, my friend spent the night with me to make sure I was ok and says I fell asleep talking and was out cold until the next day after 14 hours of sleep.

I share this so other women out there can be aware of their surroundings. I have always been very cautious, I don’t take drinks from strangers, I never put my drink down anywhere. Could my friend and I have done anything differently? Maybe. But my point is that if it could happen to two women in their late 20s, who consider themselves very street smart, it can pretty much happen to anyone. The lesson learned here is NOT to take free drinks from anyone, even the bartender. I don’t wish what happened to me on anyone and thankfully, I wasn’t taken advantage of. But the feeling of not remembering anything at all the next day, is bad enough. The thought that there is a human being that would do that to a person is sickening. What did he get out of it? Nothing. And for all he knows that very dangerous drug could have killed me. In the long run, I’m thankful it was just me. I can’t even begin to imagine what would have happened if we were both drugged. My friend is a tiny little person. If that crap had the effects it had on me, it might have killed her.

My point? Be careful ladies. We really can’t walk around trusting anyone, even bartenders. 

So a few months back I shared that I too had joined Match.com to keep Connie company on her search for the perfect match. I’ve come to a conclusion. Match is a rip-off and piece of crap. Want to feel worse about yourself? Join Match.com. Here I am more than a month later with 0 dates. I especially enjoy the the guys that look at your profile after a message or wink and ignore me. What I hear is “You’re not pretty enoughfor me.” Hey guys I have a message for you too – Fuck you. Hmm, that felt good. Hey Match, I want my money back. Can I sue them for emotional distress?

I’ve never said I’m some gorgeous model or anything, but I’m not ugly either. Yet, can’t even find a guy online, at bars, hiking surfing, nada. I’ve decided I must be cursed. No seriously, like someone put a hex on me to never find love. Eh, what do you think? It’s possible, no? So who out there has some advice on finding men? Because I’m obviously doing something wrong. And so my quest goes on….

In the process of deciding I’m cursed I have also decided that I’m going to have to learn to be alone, seeing as my friends will all be married and having babies and I’ll be forever single. I’ve challenged myself to to be more friend independent. First on my list is a movie alone. Lame, I know, but I have never been able to go to a movie by myself. Just can’t do it. So knowing that my friends will inevitably forget me once they have been completely brain washed in that relationship cult, I’ll need to do things alone. Movie first, then dinner and someday maybe a vacation. Baby steps.

I know what your thinking, I’m jealous. Yes, maybe a little. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for them. But it saddens me that things have to change. You’ve heard me say it before – friends change when they are in relationships and you become a second class citizen in their life. Soon they’ll be doing couple activities together, so that takes moi out of the mix all together. Oh well, so is life. Ugh, and I have to go to a birthday party this weekend with three of my close friends, one of which is on my shit list right now and may never be removed, and their significant others. I sense oodles of fun, insert sarcasm here. I’ll be wearing the sluttiest dress I can find in my closet, CFM (come fuck me) heels, and channeling my Samantha Jones alter ego. Then they can feel sorry for me for still having to act like that and bed hop. Their words, not mine. “It’s so sad that you are still running around like that.” Bite me.

I’ll let you all know how that goes.

Hey bitter friends,

It’s been some time. I apologize at my lacking of blogging/ my bitter-spewing. There is no excuse, no fancy dinner dates, no Mr. Man tapping at my door — just lazy, self-induced convent talk.

As I mentioned before, I joined Match. I’ve changed my profile (four times now), put recent pictures and nothing. I get it. I’m not date-worthy. I get it. I’m odd. Sigh. I’m just done. I’m done with the e-mails, the winks, I’m done with the winks from the guys I’m not interested in. What is wrong with me? And if anyone points out that it’s because I’m bitter and writing this blog and maybe if I went out more and took of the bitter face I’d have better luck can suck it. I’m not always this bitter and today is a special cake.

I made a pretty big life decision earlier this summer to remove some things that had bothered me my whole life. It’s not a cure, what I have is not curable, but it should — when recovery is complete — make me feel much better. I’m covered in stitches right now and trying to find the bright light. But this is one of two surgeries and I still the bumps and the skin and not being perfect and thus the bitterness continues. I can’t imagine anyone thinking I’m anything but a friend or worth of holding.

This is getting a bit much for me, I’m signing out. I’m going to be better about posting. Much love all.

So the past few days have been spent doing a lot of thinking and crying. Yes, crying. I cry a lot. I’ve come to the realazation that I am genuinely unhappy and lonely…to the point that sometimes I don’t even want to live. I’ve felt like this before and it usually passes after Aunt Flo has made her monthly visit. But this time it’s different, I think. The fear of being alone for the rest of my life has sunk in. I look around and notice that all my friends are in some sort of relationship and there’s me. Lonely, Bitter Betty.

I’m trying my damn hardest to snap out of it and be positive instead of sitting at home wallowing in my sorrows. I try to tell myself that I will meet someone, but I get so discouraged and want to just crawl in a hole and never come out. Accepting the fact that I may be alone for the rest of my life is letting go of the two biggest dreams in my life – being a wife and a mother. I find it difficult to believe that this can truly be my fate…a life of lonelyness. Shit, I can’t even be the cat lady since I’m allergic to cats.

What’s that you say? Get out and do something about it? You are talking to one of the most social people I know. Lets just say I have double b

Alas dear friends, if my poor computer was working I would have posted but now I’m stuck staying way past a normal hour to share my weekend bitterness.

What is it about technology that makes a girl weep? Have a few drinks and suddenly the idea of a text or e-mail (thank you Blackberry) seem like an idea of the gods above. I pray victim to this affliction a lot. However, last Saturday it was from a past crush over 6 months. Yes. Six months and I got the bright idea to e-mail. Did I say anything witty? Oh gracious no, I asked if said gentleman was going to a concert in a few months. Why?!

I ask my friends to take away my phone but I am a grown adult. I should be able to handle the fact that I have the ability to e-mail but should I? No! I don’t understand this cycle I put myself into. It really is me. I am that crazy girl. I don’t like being her, but I can’t get out of it. Next time I’ll aim to throw my phone in the Pacific Ocean. If you can’t get a hold of me next weekend you’ll know I saved my self from more embarrassment but won’t be able to call you back.

And in case you are wondering, I have not yet received a e-mail reply. I’m betting that’s not going to happen.

Damn it all. A bitter girl with technology stuck in a singlehood.

It’s Friday! Thank goodness. As usual, I feel hopeful and ready for the weekend. I have plans to go out and meet people (cute boys) and hang out with friends. This is my vicous cycle. I go out on the weekend full of hope that this is the night I meet Mr. Right, then I have one too many Vodka Redbulls, dance like a cheap stripper and lose interest in guys when they strart talking to the busty blondes. Or I’m on my A game and get no attention. Alas, I get frustrated, sad, depressed, bitter and go home to cry and decide I’m going to forever be single.

I’m taking a different approach this weekend, or trying to atleast. Still going out, still going to be social, still going to have the best time I know how. What am I doing differently? I’m not going out with a plan to meet Mr. Father of my Children. None of that. I’m just out for a good time, if I meet someone then that’s just an added bonus. Don’t meet anyone? Oh well. According to an article I read today (I’ll link you later) the odds are with me to get married – 90 percent of the US population will get married. When? Who knows. But hey, someday is better than never I guess.

So there. Did you hear that universe? Bitter Betty is going out to have fun with the people she loves!

Now, don’t be surprised if come Monday I’m just as bitter if not worse. Sundays depress me. I sit in my big apartment all alone and wonder if I’ll always be alone. Why do I do that? Because I likely, at some point, fell rejected over the weekend. OK, no more bitter…for now. Just positive Patty! Good luck to all the single ladies out there this weekend!

Apologizes to BitterBetty, I was out all day yesterday and when I got back to the office I had to jet for an event.

What is it about events and parties that make singlehood suck so much. Last night my friend and I (not BitterBetty) were at a party. And I realized if I was going to be approached at all, I had to be the approacher. I fully admit I’m an awkward girl. Not in the sense of extra arms and legs but I laugh at in appropriate times and usually when talking stupid falls out. But last night, I was all game. I went forth and chatted and flirted and tried to hold back the stupid. But I realized how much I hate this game. You have to whore yourself out to speak to enough people, to meet enough people and then at the end of the night when you are mentally exhausted — you have no numbers, nothing.

It’s hard for anyone to date but I give up to easy. Cheers to Friday.

I have a secret to share. A secret only my friend Connie knows. I recently joined an online dating site, only for her moral support of course. That’s what I keep telling myself. Anyway, I’m trying to be good and positive and open – note to self that is HUGE for me. So I look through this meat market to find my suitable match – tall (I’m a tall girl, so I need a tall gentleman), handsome, hardworking, successful, wants kids, and college educated. Am I asking for too much? I mean he doesn’t have to be a model or anything just attractive to me. I find some suitable matches and “wink”. Is the winking lame?

Here I am, day five, 10 winks later without any potential dates. This is usually where I give up and decide I will be alone forever. But I have vowed to keep an open mind, so I am not giving up…yet. BTW, this in no way whatsoever helps my ego. You can see who has looked at your profile, so I know that some of these dudes have looked at my page and not found me attractive or a match, whatever the case maybe. Ahh the rejection of online dating, gotta love it!

This thing has three months to prove itself before I’m over it and my subscription expires. I’m off to find a match. Wish me luck!

Thanks to BitterBetty for starting it off right. Why I am bitter? I’m bitter because I’m tired of of my friends telling me that someone will come along. Shove off and get over it. That’s like saying someone will go blind and find me attractive but until that point he’s not right for me. Overdramatic? Check.I just want someone to say hey you single, smart and maybe not as sexy but funny girl. I heart you. And yes, I speak internet or pretend to.

What worse than friends and no “I heart you?” Having your parents tell you that they want to pay for a dating service for you. I’m 26 damn it, when did I become the old maid?

I’d rant longer and try and be as eloquent as my dear friend BitterBetty but that may have to wait until morning.