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Hope, hate, and other four letter words

21 Oct

It is a joke.  Or so it seems these days.  Just like the idea of communication or trust.

You wanted someone to listen.  I gave you that.  I listened to you tell me of the things she says to you.  I listened to you tell me that the spark is gone.  I listened to you tell me that the love is gone.  I listened to you tell me about the empty shell that is your relationship.  I have listened to you men tell me these things, over and over and over again.  Because I am your friend, and that is what a friend does.

But over and over and over again, you stay.  You continue in a relationship with no love and no passion.  You continue in a relationship with a woman who does not care that you have a heart and she is breaking it with her words.  You continue to let your needs and desires and your hearts be walked all over.

You try to fill the void.  You fill it with work, or friends, or booze.  You fill it with hobbies or projects or food.  You fill it with flirtations and conversations that will never amount to anything more than a cheap, quick fix.  Because “that is what men do.”  Because you “don’t want to be a pussy” and fix things.

But guess what?  By trying to fill that void, you are being a pussy.  Your lack of effort to fix your relationship… that has a huge impact on all the things you are trying to fill the void with.  Your work suffers.  Your projects suffer.  The woman you have flirtations with… I can promise you that in some way, they are suffering.  Your friends (and those women, I suppose) are only getting a fraction of a person, and getting that fraction not because you care about them that much, but because they are what you run to by default.  They are your backup.

Be a man.  Face your problems.  When she says something hurtful to you, tell her that it hurts.  If the spark and the passion is gone, try and reignite it.  Think back to the beginning, when it was there.  Those things that sparked the passion in the beginning… make those things happen again.  Remember why you loved her in the first place, and really focus on those things.  And if you can’t, if all else fails and the love is gone, leave.  Stand up for yourself and cut your losses if there is no way to fix it.  Ending a relationship is never easy, but staying in a loveless one is even worse.

It is quite simple: fix it or end it.  If you can’t handle that, though, at least SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT IT.  There are ladies like myself out there that still hope love is possible.  We still hope that a happy, fulfilling relationship is possible and can last a lifetime.  But men like you… you make us doubt ourselves.  You make quick work of fracturing our hopes and dreams of that fairytale.  And if you think about it, your lady already hates you (and woman hate is the worst kind of hate)… do you really want to add any more ladies to that list?


For Better, For Worse, For All

22 May

I know that I said I would blog on dating and relationships.  And I will.  And in some ways, this post will discuss those things.

Last night, Minnesotans witnessed a horrendous act.  70 of our legislators, who were elected to represent us, ALL OF US, voted to push forth with a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage.  They made it known with their vote that they believe that not all people are equal.  They decided that they get to dictate who’s love is real and who’s love isn’t.  They decided that some of their own constituents are not deserving of the right to express their love in the most sacred legal manner.

We witnessed a bunch of politicians sitting in a room supporting hate and inequality, but failing to as much as voice their reasons for doing so.  For hours, our true leaders, democrats and republicans alike, stood up, impassioned and on fire, giving a voice to love and acceptance and equality.  Outside the chamber, citizens from across the state from all walks of life, from all sexual orientations, gathered.  They raised their voices in support of Rep. Kriesel as he stood up and went against his party and said HELL NO to intolerance.  They sang songs of hope as concerns were raised about how supporting this ban would affect our children now and forever; as concerns were raised about the constitutionality of this amendment.  And still, despite this all, 70 “representatives” showed nothing but cowardice.  They decided that hate is more important than equality.

Well, let me tell you, they were wrong!  As the amendment was passed, as their hate “won”, the voices outside the chamber got louder.  And across the state, voices got louder.  Within seconds, citizens banded together to declare that hate will not prevail in Minnesota.

This will be a long fight, but the battle is nowhere near over.  Hate will not win.  I pledge my blood, sweat, and tears from now until the moment that hate is defeated and all Minnesotans,  have the same rights as I do.  And I ask you to join me.  Get impassioned.  Get loud.  Get out of your seat and fight.  Fight for love.  Fight for equality.  Fight for all the great that is in the world, and all the greatness that has yet to be created.

Join The Fight

OutFront Minnesota
Minnesotans United For All Families 
I will Vote No



Proper spelling and sentence structure, bacon, and probable reasons why I am single.

28 Apr

I not so secretly have a profile on OKCupid.  Why not?  I am single and ready to mingle, and it is a free and effortless way to meet new people.  I have met some awesome people who have turned into great friends thanks to OKCupid, but when it comes to date-worthy men, the results have definitely been lacking.  I suppose this is due to the fact that anybody, no matter how sleazy and cheap they are, can sign up.

Admittedly, my profile will make you think of me as either a) a tad bit funny and adorable or b) a pretentious bitch.
“I am really good at being fabulous. It is true. I will change your world.”
“I could go on and on, but sometimes I get the feeling that this summary thing is just like the flight instructions from the stewardess before takeoff- you are too busy being wrapped up in her good looks to pay much attention.”
“You should message me if:
–you know how to spell and use proper sentence structure
–you like bacon (if you do not, you probably should run)”

The amazing thing is how many messages I get from vegans who cannot spell to save their life.  Also amazing is the number of times I have gotten follow-up messages from men calling me a rude bitch because I will not meet or sleep with a man who cannot spell properly or form a proper sentence.

Oh, and per the vegan animal rights activist who asked me on a date… I am a bitch for turning down his offer for a date simply because he is an animal rights activist and I like bacon.  All along I was just trying to be respectful and let him know I need more meat in me than dating him could provide…

On relationships.

26 Apr

I never thought that at nearly 24, I would be single.

I know this sounds stupid, but I didn’t.  As a young girl and into my teenage years, I pictured myself as the girl who would run off to college, meet the love of her life, and be married by the time she was 21. That picture couldn’t have been more of a lie.

I didn’t run off to college.  I didn’t meet the love of my life (although I know some people who can attest to the fact that I thought I had… a few times).  And lord knows I couldn’t be further from marriage.

But my story isn’t all that uncommon these days.  It seems that many of my fellow twenty- and thirty- somethings are embracing this decade as a one of singleness, growth, and fun.  One of exploring life with the mindset that love might come along, but we aren’t going to sit around waiting for it or forcing it.

I opened up a dialog with a bunch of people regarding their experiences with dating and relationships, and it has been amazing.  So many stories, so many points of view.  The story of one of my best friends who’s fairytale romance has quietly been anything but a fairytale.  The story of a friend who has never gone on a date.  The story of a friend who met the love of his life simply by being in the right bar at the right time.

In some ways, it has left me hopeful.  Hopeful that one day I may find the right person and have the fairytale love story.  Hopeful that it won’t always be tough being the single girl navigating the dating world.  But in some ways, it has left me feeling destined for failure.  Because really, if 15 people have 15 completely different viewpoints on all these different issues, will I ever find somebody who feels the way I do?  Or will I have to compromise?

Over the next few weeks, I am going to delve into the nooks and crannies of dating.  I am going to explore everything from first dates to intimacy to marriage.  I am going to explore monogamy and religion and whether they have a place in dating or not.

It will be fun.  But it will also be honest.  You’ve been warned.

***I am a horrible person and never followed up on this.  I suppose I should now.  -B , 9/13/2011

Date a girl who reads.

16 Mar

I found this lovely post on A Work In Progress who found it on  A Greek Tragedy who found it on Nova’s blog who found it here. I thought it was rather perfect! and it made me smile.


Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by God, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads, knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because a girl who understands that all things will come to an end and that you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Expect in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2am clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for awhile, they are always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon, during a rock concert, very casually next time she’s sick or over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wondering why your heart hasn’t burst and bleed out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even strangers tastes. She will introduce your children to The Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colourful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it – date a girl who reads!

A Love Story

10 Jul

He was a lovely boy, JT was.  I shouldn’t use the word boy, because he so much more than that.  And he would hate to find out I called him lovely.  But it is true.  He was lovely.

I do not remember well the day we met.  Not that it matters; the times that came after were so much better.  We both were involved in politics.  He worked for a campaign that I volunteered for, and although we didn’t talk much, I was drawn to him in a way.  Summer and the campaign faded into fall and I didn’t see him again.  I didn’t know more than his first name.

Late fall of 2007 came and he emailed me to let me know the campaign was officially over.  Email turned into IMing, and although sporadic, we stayed in touch.  And I fell for him.  It was a slow fall, but it was a fall.  He drew me in.  I was attracted.

Fast-forward to June 3, 2008.  That was the day of our first kiss.  We were outside of a parking ramp in St. Paul following an Obama rally we’d attended along with my friend Tommie at the XCEL energy center.  In the middle of thousands of people, I got the kiss I had been hoping for.  It probably lasted fifteen seconds or so, but it went on forever in my mind.  The world faded away.  In that moment, I knew I felt something extraordinary.

JT and I during the rally

Unfortunately, the kiss ended.  I somehow found my breath again and we said our goodbyes with promises to talk and see eachother soon, and I watched him walk away.  I squealed.  I danced.  I was a giddy little school girl.  We made the way up flight after flight of stairs to Tommie’s car, and I still couldn’t believe it.  “Did this night really happen?  OMG we KISSED!  Did I seriously get my kiss?!  I GOT MY KISS!”  We got in the car and I looked in the mirror and just kept repeating “Did that really happen?”  I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.  Even now, reliving that feeling, I get that same happy feeling in my heart.  I get the excited butterflies.

The giddy girl got her kiss!

That summer I spent a bunch of time with JT.  There were birthdays and baseball games and hospital visits.  There were kisses and cuddling and hot tubs.  There were rooftops and horse races and racing hearts.  There were hotels and jacuzzis.  There was a girl falling head over heels madly in love.

I remember the day we spent at his house after a weekend with a couple of his friends.  We watched a Something Corporate Live In Concert DVD and sang along.  He loved Something Corporate.  They were one of his favorites.

Somehow what we had faded, but it didn’t disappear completely.  Somehow, things changed.  The man I was in love with was a little more distant.  He was a little quieter.  He seemed less happy.

After that summer, we saw less of eachother.  Every few months we would meet up, whether it was me going to a wedding in Iowa with him or him coming up after an 11pm drunken phone call from me telling him I wanted to see him.

Last fall we attempted two weekends together.  The first weekend, I met up with him on Friday after an adventure to the MN State Fair with Tommie, but passed out immediately after getting to his apartment.  I was in a food-induced coma.

pancake wrapped pork sausage on a stick at the state fair

Saturday, he had something had to do with friends and left the keys to his apartment with me.  He left at 5 or 6pm and said he would be back by around 9.  I met up with my dear friend Glen for coffee and dessert at Cafe Latte, and 9pm came without a word from JT.  I text him to let him know I was out and to let me know when he’d be back.  Glen and I made our way down the street for a drink at Billy’s and soon 1am came and all I had gotten was a text saying JT would be back in a bit.  I went back to his apartment and waited up for an hour or so, not hearing from him.  Finally, pissed off, I went to bed.  I woke up at 6am to a text saying “I am so sorry! I will be home soon.”  But yet he didn’t walk through the door til close to 9am.  I was furious, and he was hungover as hell.  Turns out that he had gotten drunk and passed out, apparently forgetting about the cute girl who was sitting at him apartment waiting for him.

The last time that I attempted to spend time with him was when he was supposed to be my +1 for my former roommate’s wedding.  I was spending time in the twin cities with friends on Friday and was supposed to meet up with him afterward.  But instead, he went to his friend’s house to drink and ended up basically blowing off plans with me.  I didn’t see him that weekend, and I didn’t go to the wedding either.

I miss JT.  I miss his hugs and the way he’d always tell me that I look great.  I miss our conversations.  I miss his long hair and the way he’d always say “that’s what she said” even when it didn’t quite make sense.  I miss so much about him.

goofiness on my 21st birthday

I feel as if I am his Konstantine.

And if this is what it takes
Just to lie with my mistakes
And live with what I did to you
All the hell I put you through
I always catch the clock
It’s 11:11
And now you want to talk
It’s not hard to dream
You’ll always be my Konstantine

My Konstantine, they’ll never hurt you like I do
No, they’ll never hurt you like I do.

I think that JT was the first man that I ever truly loved.  I still do, in a way.  Thoughts of him catch me off guard all the time.  The things that remind me of him never seem to disappear.  I loved him and saw in him so much potential and greatness, and it seemed as if he never realized that it was there.  He was a broken soul in so many ways, and all I wanted to do was fix it all.  I wanted to make it better.  I wanted to see him happy.  I wanted to make all of his struggles go away.  But I couldn’t.  I knew I couldn’t, and I long ago gave up trying.  Maybe it was just that he couldn’t be at his best and happiest with me.  And as much as that hurts, I understand it.

Losing him hurt.  It has left a void.  Part of me still hopes to have him back someday.  But more than that, I just hope that he is finally happy; a little less broken.

6 Jun