I've Got a Fever

It's not just a funny and timely title.

Tuesday morning I woke up feeling not so great. Took my temperature right when I woke up. 99.5

I thought, well I woke up early, I'll take my temperature in 30 minutes and if it is at 100 or higher, I'll stay home.

It went down to 88.6.
So I went to work.
Felt fine. Just super hungry. I could not stop eating.

Went to bed Tuesday night excited that for the first time in WEEK the forecast for Wednesday was for sunshine and NO SNOW. Told myself I would ride my bike to work.


Of course I woke up with a temperature of 101.6. So much for even getting out of bed.

Yeah, definitely have the flu.

My boss made me feel guilty for not coming in and basically guilted me into wanting to show up today, Valentines day.

But guess who woke up with a fever STILL ABOVE 100 degrees this morning?

Yeah. Me.


Happy Valentines Day to me.



I feel a ton better now. Been drinking orange juice, chugging down tylenol, and tons of laying around, sweating and sleeping. And if I don't work tomorrow, my paycheck will be the saddest thing since me breaking my wrist.

Of course, when all you are doing on Valentines day is laying around alone cuddling with your cat, your mind goes into hyperdrive. You think crazy thoughts. You rethink things you did. Things you should have done. Things you want to do. You really just crave some chocolate.


Now, I'm not sure when this happened, but I'm guessing it happened some time when Sex and the City came around. Even though advertisers all over the world think it still exists (especially jewelry stores), Valentines Day is not supposed to exist in the minds of modern day women.
We are supposed to chant something along the lines of "It's a Hallmark Holiday/I don't celebrate it/I don't need one day a year to know I'm loved."

Once upon a time, a guy would buy flowers and chocolates and take a fair young maiden out to dinner or perhaps cook her a nice dinner and then they would get down to business. The girl would be "wined and dined" as they called it.

Now, in 2008, girls are not supposed to expect jack shit. We are supposed to think it's all cheesy and fake and silly. If we do get something, like flowers, or chocolate, or a visit at night with a box of pizza and some beer, we are supposed to laugh it off or pretend this is simply an every day occurrence.

I mean, sure, I think flowers are cheesy. I've always been a believer that if you buy me flowers, you are sending a message that you want me to look pretty for 3 days and then die. But I've also been a believer that on valentines day, I WOULD LIKE SOME FUCKING CHOCOLATE.

Far be it from me to go away from the norm, but FUCK! How bout a hug? How bout a late night visit? You don't even have to buy me anything. Just promise me that we can have sex and you'll go down on me first, ok?

I mean, hell, everybody knows the chocolate is 50% off the next day so how bout you spend the night, we screw like deviants and then we go to Target and spend $45 on candy?

Is that too much to ask?


Apparently it is. I've been having a lot of conversations with some close girlfriends about the wonderful activity that is sexual intercourse (and all that entails - foreplay, cuddling, bondage, ect.)

We all love it. We all require it at LEAST once a week (if we can get it.)

And therein lies the problem.

We can't seem to get it.

We are all talented, beautiful, smart young modern ladies (I'm working on that self-esteem issue.)
We each know some men whom we like and think like us back.

Yet even when we OFFER THEM SEX ON A GOLDEN FUCKING PLATTER . . . they turn us down.

With excuses that women have used for DECADES:

• "I don't feel good."
• "I have work to do."
• "It's too cold outside."
• "I don't have time."
• "I have a headache."

Swear to god. I've heard a guy say he has a headache. I mean, how many chick flicks has he been watching, seriously?


But in all honesty, when did this start? Why is this happening? I've already waxed poetic plenty about how I think women are fucked when it comes to trying to snag a dude in today's world.
But now when we think we have one, one that MAY JUST LIKE US A LITTLE BIT, we still can't get laid!
Talk about sexually frustrated!

When did the hornbag status move from males to females? No wonder sex stores are so successful. You can get porn for free on the internet. But you can't get vibrators for free!

Not only are we missing out on sex, but to try and SNAG the sex, we are turning into men in every other aspect of the "relationship." We are the ones who have to constantly call and make plans and promise to buy them dinner. I've had a friend who has offered a guy to GO TO HIS HOUSE AND GIVE HIM A BLOWJOB just to see the dude because he is that much of a flake (and we know how I feel about flakes.)

Even dudes I'm not sleeping with, just guys I'm friends with, I STILL have to make all plans. Location, times, date, and let's not forget constant reminders to make sure he shows up at the right place and time.

And then these dudes have the nerve to play hard to get?
I mean, I knew the roles were reversing but how far are women going into the man zone before we just grow a pair of serious balls and forget we have a vagina?

And when these dudes pull away, us girls have no idea how to try and get them to stay. The tricks that work on girls won't work on them. We always assumed sex was the way to a man's heart and now that it's not, what is left?

Seriously.
This is a plea to all men.
What do you want anymore?!

You don't want a girlfriend.
You don't want a fuck buddy.
Hell, you don't even want casual sex.

WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU WANT?!

Because here is what us girls want.

We don't need to be your girlfriend.
We don't need to meet your mom.

All we want is to hear from you every other day or so. Phone call or hell, a text or email or something.
And then hang out with us AT LEAST once a week and have sex with us.

I mean, look. You don't have to buy us jack shit. It's nice but buy condoms and we'll be fine. Buy us ONE DRINK. Just one.
And you have our heart.
Or at least our vagina.

Seriously.
We just want a guy who will talk to us, screw us, cuddle for a few minutes, and not be a flake.

You don't have to get down on one knee or buy us flowers on Valentines Day.

But if you show up to my house on V-Day with a large veggie pizza, a 6-pack of Guinness, and agree to play my Wii for a few hours and let me play with your Wii for a few more hours . . .

let's just say you'd make one sick girl feel a lot better.

Winter Is A Time For Flakes

So two days ago, Friday, I went to the burbs to help a friend celebrate her birthday. She had called me a month in advance to let me know and make me promise I'd be there.
She didn't know the exact date a month ago, but I told her that I'd try my hardest to be there since I didn't even know if I had a job back then.

Well, the weeks went by and the date got confirmed. I had a job and I told her I would be there. I would take the train and I would be there.

The day arrived and I canceled two other plans with two other friends who wanted to take me out on a Friday night because, as I explained to them, I had already made plans. I'm reliable; the friends understood. Hell, I see these friends all the time. I see friends in the burbs like twice a year if I'm lucky. Because no one will ever visit me and I don't like to leave the city too often besides holidays. And they have cars and I don't but I DIGRESS.

My friend picks me up from the train station and we head back to her place. On the FIFTEEN MINUTE drive home, she got not one, but TWO calls from people who suddenly were canceling on her. People who she had told weeks in advance and they promised to be there.

Moral of this story (not counting the severe hangover I got from doing 11-16 shots of whiskey in 3 hours) is:

I am reliable and most everyone else in this world is a total fucking flake.


Seriously, this has been getting on my nerves for about a month now. I don't know if the weather is partly to blame but for some odd reason, EVERYBODY has been flaking on me multiple times.
They commit one or all of the following:

• Never call me
• I call them, leave message, they don't call back
• Don't show up
• Show up very late
• Text me wanting to make plans and never making them

And so on.
I could go on but then it would be super obvious who I am talking about and they will get mad at me.

Now I understand sometimes, things come up.
People get sick, relatives die, you get a flat tire and lose your wallet and then a cop arrests you for public intoxication, I mean, we all have excuses.
Some are true.
Sometimes you try your hardest to be somewhere at some time and something seriously gets in your way and you are just running running running down the street and arrive out of breath and apologize profusely. Or maybe you dropped your phone in the toilet and never thought to create a handwritten list of numbers or something and borrow a phone.

But 95% of the time, people are flakey because they are FUCKING STUPID.
They don't know how to time a trip.
They sleep in.
They "completely forgot."
They double book plans.
They get lost easily.
They don't know how to follow directions.
They have you as a low priority and refuse to be honest with you.


So please, spare me the details and be honest.
That's all I ask.

This tendency for people to flake and not be treated like social outcasts is a part of my HATRED of how for some odd reason in America today, it's acceptable to be late.

I mean, obviously being the first one at a bar event isn't exactly a good idea. There's a time and place for being "fashionably" late as it may be. I mean, who wants to be the one drunk by 10:15?

But anything besides a late night party, you have no excuse.

BE ON TIME.
hell, don't even be on time.

BE EARLY!


I have a serious character flaw. I'm ALWAYS early.
The past three Sundays, I have waken up at about 8:30 in the morning.
I can't help it. I'll go to bed at 2am but here I am, wide awake and doing laundry or paying bills.

The past three Sundays, I have also had people say they wanted to hang. On the Friday or Saturday prior, they will say "hey, let's get lunch tomorrow."
This event, in my head, would take place sometime around noon. Since that's usually a good time to eat lunch.


Suddenly it's 4pm and I either haven't heard from them or they have only randomly texted me a few times to make me THINK they still might want to hang but never giving me a time or place. Or they call and keep pushing back our plans until suddenly the sun is setting, I haven't eaten, and I'm reaching for a bottle of wine.

And I get mad.
I get pissed.
I start doing things like cleaning the stove top and mopping the floors and paying my bills.
I start writing things on the web that look like what you are currently reading.
I eat.
I drink.
I waste my entire weekend waiting around for flakey-ass people.

And here I am again.

It's Sunday. It is now 3:15. Lunch turned into coffee which, if this keeps going, is going to turn into "maybe dinner" which will turn into "I have to go to bed early tonight so don't worry about it."

Then on Monday morning, they will apologize profusely in a text message and give me a really lame excuse like having promised someone they would help them wash their dog all day.

And I'll accept their apology, pretend to believe their excuse, and the whole week long charade would continue again.


So, to all you flakes out there, listen up.
Nobody believes your bullshit.
We secretly are fucking pissed off at you like nothing else.
And every time you pull this shit, we emotionally let go of you a little bit more until you do something to remind us of why we bother.

And to all the people out there who are early, reliable, and returning phone calls:

hello?
um...is anybody here?

fuck.
I knew I was the only one.