Dating is Miserable but it’ll get you laid

7Jul/103

I was probably doomed anyway.

My friend Cy posted on her tumblr a link to this article on The Daily Beast about the 15 Signs You'll Get Divorced.

1. If you're a woman who got married before the age of eighteen, your marriage faces a 48 percent likelihood of divorce within ten years.
Phew! I'm an old maid and now proud of it!

2. If you're a woman who wants a child—either a first child or an additional child—much more strongly than your spouse does, your marriage is more than twice as likely to end in divorce as the marriages of couples who agree on how much they do or don't want a child.
FirstName LastName and I are both pretty "maybe" about kids.

3. If you have two sons, you face a 36.9 percent likelihood of divorce, but if you have two daughters, the likelihood rises to 43.1 percent.
Okay so just one child.  Got it.

(Note To Sister: YOU'RE SCREWED)

4. If you're a man with high basal testosterone, you're 43 percent more likely to get divorced than men with low testosterone levels.
Have FirstName LastName's testosterone levels checked - DONE
If too high start feeding him ridiculous amounts of soy. I don't give a crap how many people say men who eat a lot of soy don't have testosterone problems, I know 4, all who were vegetarians as children, who do!

5. If your child has been diagnosed with ADHD, you are 22.7 percent more likely to divorce before that child turns eight years old than parents of a child without ADHD.
Explains my parents divorce. THANKS TO MY BROTHER! Woo Hoo, not my fault after all!

6. If you are currently married but have cohabited with a lover other than your current spouse, you are slightly more than twice as likely to divorce than someone who has never cohabited.
Crap.

7. If you didn't smile for photographs early in life, your marriage is five times more likely to end in divorce than if you smiled intensely in early photographs.
Ummmm, I think I'm okay - (1, 2, 3, 4)

8. If your child has died after the twentieth week of pregnancy, during labor, or soon after labor, you are 40 percent more likely to divorce than if you had not lost a child.
TBD.

9. If you're a woman who has recently been diagnosed with cancer or multiple sclerosis, your marriage is six times more likely to end in divorce than if your husband had been diagnosed with those diseases instead.
'Cause men are shady bastards and can't deal when people get sick. **Fingers Crossed**

10. If you're a Caucasian woman and you're separated from your spouse, there's a 98 percent chance that you'll be divorced within six years of that separation; if you're a Hispanic woman, the likelihood is 80 percent; if you're an African-American woman, the likelihood is 72 percent.
Kill Whitey!

11. If you're a dancer or choreographer, you face a 43.05 percent likelihood of divorce, compared with mathematicians, who face a 19.15 percent likelihood, and animal trainers, who face a 22.5 percent likelihood.
Guess I'm going back to school to be a mathematician. 2 + 2 is still 4, right?

12. If you're a farmer or rancher, you face only a 7.63 percent likelihood of divorce, joined by other low-risk occupations such as nuclear engineers, who face a 7.29 percent likelihood, and optometrists, who face a mere 4.01 percent likelihood.
Fuck numbers! I am going to become a cow optometrist!

13. If either you or your spouse have suffered a brain injury, your marriage faces a 17 percent chance of ending in divorce.
Does spinal meningitis here?

14. If you're an African-American woman, your first marriage has a 47 percent likelihood of ending in divorce within ten years; for Hispanic women, the likelihood is 34 percent; for Caucasian women, it's 32 percent; for Asian women, it's 20 percent.
Hrmph.

15. If you're a woman serving actively in the military, your marriage is 250 percent more likely to end in divorce than that of a man serving actively in the military.
Thankfully, that will never be a problem. Also, men suck. They don't stick around when things get tough!

23Apr/109

Mayor of Idiot Town!

I'm completely uncomfortable with silence. Thus, I talk...a lot. Due to the fact I talk so much I assume people are rarely listening. Which is why I was beyond shocked when FirstName LastName remembered I once mentioned I'd never been to a professional hockey game (in addition to enjoying elegant violence) and took me to the Sharks/Avalanche Playoff Game last night.

We had a great time (sans motorcycle!!!) and I was even more googly starry eyed  retarded about him than I was before but, somehow, I managed to screw it all up........

TWICE

1) At the game we sat in front of this little blonde haired, blue eyed, rosy cheeked, boy who couldn't have been more than 2 and 1/2 and his parents. The little boy was the cutest thing I have ever seen in my entire life (excluding the niecelings, of course). He had his little Sharks jersey, knew the players, and sang/screamed along with all the songs and chants. My stone cold jaded heart was totally melting over this kid.

AND I COULD NOT STOP COMMENTING ON HOW ADORABLE HE WAS.  You could just see FirstName LastName flinch every time I mentioned 'super adorable kid'. I could hear the red flags going off in his head as he assumed I have baby fever.

WHICH ISN'T TRUE SINCE I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF I WANT KIDS!

2) I stayed at his house (nothing happened outside of some serious making out since, despite appearances, I'm attempting to not complete sabotage this) and when I woke up early because Julie from I Live Here: SF was coming to my house to take pictures at 10 AM. FirstName LastName started talking about why I had to cut out so early. I told him, excitedly, all about the project. He asked me why I wanted to do the project and without thinking (STUPID STUPID ME) said "Well in addition to it being nice to have professional pictures of yourself laying around, the project is really interesting, and I think it will be good publicity for my site.". AND OF COURSE HE ASKED WHAT MY SITE WAS.\

D'oh!

I was caught completely off guard and told him, nervously, everything, excluding url but including his entries mainly revolved around ridiculous MS Paint cartoons. It wasn't that he was bothered by being written about (because seriously you guys he's A-MAZ-ING) but you could see, plus he verbalized, the thought of reading about my ex-boyfriends and "past exploits" (<--his words not mine) made him sick to his stomach.

AND NOW HE'S LEAVING FOR A WEEK :(

AND I DON'T KNOW WHERE WE LEFT THINGS!

Way to go, Amanda. Way to go.

16Dec/095

I need a tissue.

Here is something I don't readily admit, I am a HUGE sap. I'm talking the "crying at telephone commercials, memento saving, constant tissue carrying" mess of a disaster. Off the top of my head I can name several things which reduce me to tears just THINKING about them.

1. The Johnny Cash & Fiona Apple version of Father & Son
2. The movie Up.
3. The book, Sisters, my sister gave me a few Christmases ago. I can't even LOOK at it without crying as she wrote a very touching inscription inside. (I was choking back tears writing about it just now)
4. My friend Travis who died 4 years ago.
5. The movie Beaches.
6. Remembering the bizarre conversations I've had on the phone about lunch and shoes with my niece.

If I continue on I'm going to be a sobbing mess at work. My point is, this is completely different than the attitude I traditionally put out there.  Most of my day to day outward romantic sentiments can be summed up by a Garfunkel and Oates song. So please be astonished that I'm going to share something romantic with you.

Today on weddingbee (me: tell me this doesn't make you want to cry Cy: i still don't understand why you read so many fucking wedding blogs me: Remember how that dude and I constantly talked about getting married? I still have all this wedding stuff on my google reader.) a member posted I Like You by Sandol Stoddard Warburg. I immediately burst into tears. It's so pretty and (Note To Men: ) everything a girl wants to hear.

I Like You by Sandol Stoddard Warburg

I like you,
And I know why.
I like you because
When I tell you something special,
You know it’s special,
And you remember it
A long, long time.

You say,
Remember when you told me
Something special?

And both of us remember.

When I think something is important,
You think it’s important too.

We have good ideas.

When I say something funny,
You laugh.
I think I’m funny and
You think I’m funny too.

You know how to be silly.
That’s why I like you.
Boy are you ever silly.
I never met anybody sillier than me til I met you.

I like you because
You know when it’s time to stop being silly.

Maybe day after tomorrow.
Maybe never.

And I like you because
If we go away together,
And if we are in Grand Central Station,
And if I get lost,
Then you are the one that is yelling for me.

And I like you because
When I am feeling sad,
You don’t always cheer me up right away.
Sometimes it is better to be sad.
You can’t stand the others being so googly and gaggly every single minute.
You want to think about things.
It takes time.

I like you because if I am mad at you,
Then you are mad at me too.
It’s awful when the other person isn’t.
They are so nice and hoo-hoo and you could just about punch them in the nose.

If you find two four-leaf clovers,
You give me one.
If I find four,
I give you two.
If we only find three,
We keep on looking.
Sometimes we have good luck,
And sometimes we don’t.

I like you because
I don’t know why, but
Everything that happens
Is nicer with you.

I can’t remember when I didn’t like you.

It must have been lonesome then.

I like you because, because, because…
I forget why I like you,
But I do.
So many reasons.

On the Fourth of July,
I like you because
It’s the Fourth of July.
On the Fifth of July,
I like you too.

If you and I had some drums
And some horns and some horses,
If we had some hats and some
Flags and some fire engines,
We could be a HOLIDAY!
We could be a CELEBRATION!
We could be a WHOLE PARADE!
See what I mean?

Even if it was the nine hundred and ninety-ninth of July,
Even if it was August,
Even if it was way down at the bottom of November,
Even if it was no place particular in January,

I would go on choosing you,
And you would go on choosing me,
Over and over again.

That’s how it would happen every time.
I don’t know why.

I guess I don’t know why I like you, really.
Why do I like you?

I guess I just like you,

Because I like you.