Pork chops, haircuts and a lot of fuss

I am in a wonderful relationship. My boyfriend and I get along so well, we probably make all our friends sick to their stomachs. So why, then, do I go on these neurotic trips where I think the stupidest little thing is going to make him throw his hands in the air and confess "I can't do this anymore! What was I thinking?! I can be with someone who doesn't know how to pick out pork chops!"

Now, I know you are laughing at me right now. And that's ok. Because when I finally confessed to Boyfriend why I was a babbling, nervous mess, we both laughed at the absurdity.

Did I really think he would dump me because I don't know the difference between a loin and a chop? Or because I used the wrong knife to cut an apple? Or I cut my hair too short?

Of course not! I know in my head he wouldn't be so petty. So where on earth did this come from?

My girlfriend in Florida told me she does the same thing.

Florida: I was cooking for my guy the other night and I was scared that if he didn't totally like it he would never speak to me again. Actually, I freak out like that on a daily basis.

Me: Why do we think like this? It makes no sense, if you look at it rationally.

Florida: Because we've allowed people to beat us down and now we don't understand a good thing when we see it.

I think she's right, as usual.

In past relationships, I've gotten into arguments for the most basic decisions. You should've heard the the crap I got when I had my hair cut! Each time I made choices that went against the grain, I had vigorously to defend myself, my feelings and my beliefs. And it chipped away at my confidence a bit at a time. No wonder so many of us have issues with these kinds of things making up our pasts.

How can couples can survive now-a-days with the way people treat one another? It's amazing that two kind, caring people can find each other in this fucked up world. It's one instance where saying, "You Deserve Each Other" is a huge compliment.

It makes me really appreciate relationships like my parents, who have been married over thirty years. Or my friends, who have been together since they were in high school. What they have is nothing short of a miracle.

I just hope Boyfriend and I can keep laughing about these silly episodes of mine.

Maybe eventually, I'll stop worrying... but then that wouldn't be me, now would it?

RANT: F*** those A**holes

This first rant is gonna be a very honest one, but one that I think most of my lovely ladies can relate.

Next weekend I am meeting Boyfriend's family for the first time... and I have been getting progressively more nervous as we get closer to our vacation. And it's not for the reasons you would think. I know that they are going to think I am nice and sweet, and they are going to enjoy spending time with me. We are going to have a great time -- that I'm NOT worried about. I am worried that they are going to meet me and the first thing they are going to think is, "She's Fat and Ugly and Not-Good-Enough."

And that is absurd!

Boyfriend is the sweetest guy in the world who adores his family; and they all seem like VERY nice, fun people. Why would I think they would be so harsh and critical? While I am not a super model and could lose about 15 pounds, I am by no means Fat. And I know I'm pretty and, in Legal Blonde terms, not "unfortunate." So why the hell would these thoughts come into my head?

This is where the rant comes in.

It's because of A**holes from the past. All of them, including the kids who made fun of me in school. Those kids are the reason why I thought all I could get were the losers I dated in college -- who proceeded to take turns chipping away at my self-esteem. I'm sure all of you can relate. He's the guy who told you you'd look great if you would lose that bit of weight so "then you'd really be hot." And the one that asked if you ever would get a boob job for him.

They are also the friends who were so insecure they would rather scar you for life than let you be happier than them (that hurts the most). The ones who ended up stealing your boyfriend at a beach party and telling you, "It doesn't matter how pretty you are, no one will want to be with you if you are Fat. Don't be sad, I am only telling you this because I Love You."

I know some of you are thinking, "Crap, Girl! Why are you telling everyone this!"

Because I know we're all dealing with emotional baggage from people who have treated us wrong in the past. I was so scared and insecure that it was making me a total mess. When I told my friend what I was thinking, she shared her story and I learned that I'm not the only one who has these self-doubts. And as I released into the room the words that had been torturing me, I realized that they are SO not true!

That's when I got pissed.

How dare they say those things to me! And how dare I not stand up for myself! Well, it's never too late, right? So this is my big F*** You that I should have said a LONG time ago.

F*** You, jerk ex-boyfriends!

F*** You, so-called friends!

Go ahead and join me -- it feels GREAT! Who do you feel like giving the finger to?

PS: Feel free to pass this on if you think it would help someone. Us girls gotta stick together!

San Francisco Guys

I can always spot a foreign-boy in San Francisco. And there's one really obvious way you can tell if he's an east-coaster visiting college buddies or a European on vacation -- it's if they look clean. I mean, really clean. Like just scrubbed down with bleach, dried in fresh country air, and polished 'til pristine with only the finest toiletries known to man.


Our San Francisco guys always look a little dirty. In comparison, they are scruffy and rough around the edges, like an unfinished work of art (or if you're not so lucky, a crappy piece for craft-art you found at the Ashby Flea Market). Even if he's one of the guys who showers most of the time, he still has that look that says he really doesn't care. SF guys only shave every other day, they don’t own a ties, or a pair of pants other than jeans. Maybe it's the laid back atmosphere, mellow climate, deep-routed counter-culture, or something in the water. Who knows?


Now, don't get the wrong impression here... I like it this way. The Euros look a little too sterile; like bigger than life-sized Ken dolls that might break if you rub up against them too hard. Those guys are boring, proper, fitting-the-mold-to-a-T. Who can handle that for anything more than a weekend romp playing the sexy tour guide. So yeah, I think I prefer my boys a little rough around the edges. Dirty boys keep life interesting!