Why DO Men Love Bitches?

This is a book I was so ill-advised to purchase a couple of years ago.

I stopped reading half way through because it was a beyond ridiculous, antiquated and downright offensive excuse for a "self-help" book. Nowhere did I find the reasoning behind the title - I'm still pondering to this day: why DO men love bitches? It should have been called "How to Act Like a Game-Playing, Immature Teenager So You Can Snag the Attention of Misogynistic, Insecure Tools."

I threw the book away (recycled, rather - that crappy book needs to be redeemed somehow!) before my recent move. And today I began to question once more: why do guys tend to stray away from nice girls and flock to the so-called bitches?

And why would any self-respecting woman attempt to downplay her kindness in hopes of attaining the ever-so-precious attention of some one-track minded asshole?

Could I easily be more of a bitch? Absolutely. Could I get a guy to like me? Sure (although, this may be open to interpretation as of late). But honestly, do I really even WANT to be liked by a guy who's sole reason for his initial attraction to me is the way I act unattainable? Is this guy even worth my energy and time? Absolutely not. I want a guy who appreciates nice girls. He may be hard to find, but I have faith they're out there.

And this principle of bitch loving applies to other parts of life, like working relationships, meeting acquaintances and even friendships. Maybe this is just my distorted view, but I always feel like I see inconsiderate people getting what they want in the end. They were "pushy" enough to go for it, so that means they deserve respect and attention at work and in their social lives?

That is ludicrous.

The reason why I'm questioning this so much today is because a recent situation brought this whole bitch-loving nonsense to my attention. Someone I was close to (and treated VERY well) is now adrift from me. This person is, however, still very close to a certain someone who is - all right, I'll just go out and say it - a bitch. The bitch has screwed this person over before, and that person has vowed to me that they will no longer remain as close to that bitch as before.

Yet here we are - that person will not give me the time of day, yet they are as close as ever to this bitch person. I had (obviously erroneously) placed this person on a pedestal and assumed they were more evolved than that; however, I am mistaken. I did nothing wrong to this person, so maybe I need to stoop to this bitch's level in order to be more appealing? Oh, hell freakin' no.

This isn't the first time this person has showed their taste for bitch. This person has an ex who was also quite the brute, and this person still holds that ex in very high esteem, even going so far as to say they miss them and would like to rekindle some semblance of a friendship.

When did being inconsiderate and downright awful become the M.O. for how to be in certain people's lives? It's like thoughtfulness and compassion count for nothing!

I'm not claiming to be perfect - I'm far from it - but I would classify myself as more of a nice, easy-going person than a stubborn, hard-headed one. I know I'm not the only nice person out there, but so many times I feel like I'm a good, caring person surrounded by a screwed up world full of self-serving assholes. When does it pay off to be nice?? Why is it that I get walked on and taken for granted when I try my best to treat others well?

There is some condition in children where they're unable to read others' emotions - like you could be crying in front of the child, and he/she wouldn't understand that something is wrong. I think I have the exact opposite of this condition - I'm reading and observing people non-stop, trying to figure out how best to adapt to their situation and feelings. Always worrying about how they feel and how to best make them feel comfortable. I never want to hurt their feelings, so I do my best to tip-toe around sensitive topics.

It is exhausting.

And yet, I don't know how to be anything but nice. I don't know how to be a bitch (in the definition that the author of that lame ass book came up with). I don't want to be a bitch, either. I just want to be myself and have other people around me give a shit too. I want other people to be more sensitive to my feelings (and when I say other people, I mean the general public and other acquaintances. I have great friends and family!).

Why does it seem sometimes that I'm surrounded by tin men who have no hearts?? Where is the Great and Powerful Oz when you need him!

I've decided it's best that I cut ties with those insensitive and unevolved people who are either bitches themselves or bitch lovers. Why would I want them in my life anyway? It's hurtful to be let down, but all I can do is surround myself with people who encourage me to be just as I am and like me, niceness and all.

The Dangling of the Carrot

This post will probably piss a few people off, namely because I seem to be a masochist when it comes to my emotions. Oh, how I just love the pain.

I hung out with my ex-boyfriend last night.

Yes, yes. I know. The past is the past, and it should stay that way. Why torture myself? It'll just make things harder. I've heard it all - from family, friends, my inner voice. Trust me - I'm completely aware of the repercussions that come with dabbling into old boyfriend territory. Hello! I'm like the poster child for trying to live in the past!

Every person I've dated seriously and then subsequently broken apart from, I always go back, whether I try to get back together with them or attempt to be "friends." There was a period in time when I cut every ex out since it's less baggage, but I think as time goes by, I forget why I'm angry/sad/heartbroken/annoyed with these guys and just let them right back in. And, not to mention, I get over them eventually, so after awhile, being on good terms is not an issue.

In this case, my most current ex and I broke up about 6 months ago. For the bulk of those months, we didn't communicate one bit. That's definitely a change for me since it always takes me a good year to finally cut ties with my exes, as history has shown (my family is quite aware of my yo-yo boyfriend issues).

Well, my effed up computer brought us back onto talking terms when our mutual friend asked him how I should fix it. He offered to take a look, fix it and back up my files for me. At first I thought, "Do I need to compensate him in some way for doing this for me?" I quickly shook off that idea - that fool broke my heart! He can be my permanent free-of-charge computer guy for the rest of my life for that one.

Anyway, a couple weeks ago, I asked him if I could come pick it up from his house (I didn't want to use our mutual friend as an intermediary any longer - I just wanted my damn computer!). He obliged and explained he'd been avoiding seeing me since he didn't want things to be "awkward" and he didn't know how we should act around each other.

So we finally saw each other for the first time a couple weeks ago. It wasn't weird at all; in fact, we sat and chatted for 2 1/2 hours, just catching up and whatnot. (I know, I can hear the groans coming from you. Yes, I should have just grabbed my crap and bolted, but I'm a masochist, remember?).

After that, we've kept in touch via text message here and there. Then, strangely enough, he said we should hang out so he can come see my new place and maybe we could watch a movie. Don't worry. This was not his attempt to try and rekindle anything, people. I'm not that dillusional. I think he almost feels sorry for me and wants to make amends. He befriends all of his exes, apparently.

So this wasn't an unusual invitation for him. I agreed, which caused some concern from my friends and my mom, who told me it's like he's "dangling a carrot" in front of the horse (the horse being me, naturally). They are all completely right - of course this hang out could potentially set me back 6 months and cause me to regress back to my pathetic, weepy self (to be honest, I'm still pathetic and weepy sometimes even now, but it has improved slightly). I don't know what I was thinking agreeing to this. I guess I just wanted to challenge myself to see if I could handle it. And I vowed that if I couldn't, I would stop this whole "friendship" business ASAP.

Well, the hang out was last night. He came over and we watched some TV while I cooked up some dinner (which was pretty bomb, might I add). Being the Mr. Fix-It he is, he helped me program my air conditioner and stop this annoying pop-up that was coming up on my computer at start-up. He helped me take out the trash and advised me how to fix my new TV stand (I got it from Big Lots, so ghettoness is kind of expected).

Basically, he was just super helpful and nice, which is his personality anyway. I don't want to think that he was doing all this out of pity - I do think he is a genuinely nice guy. Nothing romantic happened at all - it wasn't that kind of hang out. We did hit up Bel Air and get some beers and ice cream (nice combo). We watched a movie until I kind of passed out on the couch, and he left around 1 a.m. (uuugggh, this morning was torture).

Overall, I think I handled it well. We laughed and reminisced about some old jokes, and kept things very platonic, which is weird since we've never been "just friends." I do miss him, I hate to admit, but I'm completely aware of the situation. I had a relationship in my head with him (basically convincing myself that things were completely mutual when they were not), so it's necessary that I stay focused on reality and not get caught up in old feelings.

It sucks, I'll tell ya. It's hard when you know someone who you just think meshes perfectly well with you, yet they see it differently. It's frustrating, and it makes me question relationship dynamics altogether. I haven't lost faith that I'll find mutual love one of these days, though, so until then, I'm just riding the wave of singlehood.

And who knows where the ex and I will go? I'm not sure if we're going to be hanging out on a regular basis or anything, but at least we're on good terms. I can say that about all my exes now, which is weird. And for the record, this horse is just fine without a carrot!

Moving Madness

These past couple weeks have made my head spin. Busy, busy, busy. I just haven't felt like there were enough hours in the day to get things accomplished, which makes me feel very anxious. I'm a perfectionist, so when I don't feel like I can cross off everything on my to-do list, I'm like an obese woman trying to ween herself off Phen Phen.

The big news of the week:

1) I'm headed to Washington D.C. tomorrow at the butt crack of dawn to have a fun reunion with my study abroad girls. Oh, how this mini-vacay is so needed, although flying is kind of freaky (at least my flight is non-stop - I'm praying for a good movie and cheap booze!).

2) I'm signing the lease for my new apartment next week! This will be the first official time I'm living alone and paying for everything myself. Well, I have lived alone a couple times - 1 was when my freshman-year college roommate left school early, leaving me with a huge dorm and bathroom all to myself, and the other time I lived in the Bay Area, but with the help of my parents. At least I know how to live alone - it's not hard at all. Kind of nice, actually. Now I get to move into my own place here in Roseville and do it all by myself! Well, financially, that is. My dad and sister are coming next weekend with the truck to help me move stuff. We're going to become the Clampett family again - yeeeehaw!

Let's hope this moving session is better than my last one, which involved almost dropping my queen-sized mattress on I-280 in San Francisco, rain that soaked all my crap on the 2-hour drive to Roseville, and some creepy guy at an SF gas station saying over and over, "Awww hell nawwww....helll nawww," when my mom and I asked him if my mattress was secure enough on top of my dad's truck bed tied to the lumber rack. Needless to say, that day sucked.

Moving days have always been hellish for me, whether it was leaving all my Sacramento friends and moving to BFE in Nevada or bawling my eyes out when my family moved me out of my dorm freshman year of college, only to have my dad ask in the car, "Are you excited to come home?"

Yes, moving is always traumatic for me, so let's pray for good weather next weekend and for my dad to be in a good mood! (Love you, dad).

I'm excited to decorate the new place and have people over. I'm going to keep it spic-and-span, and I won't have to worry about a dog doing its business in my closet, room and bathroom every day! No offense to Maggie - she's adorable, but I just can't live with her. Thankfully my roomies Brian and Kate understand. It's time for a new chapter in my life, and I can't wait!

But first off, visiting my man Obama! Woo hoo! Can't wait ;)

Not All Who Wander Are Lost

Lately I've been feeling all over the place - very jumbled and unorganized. There's a lot going on at work, as well as outside of work. And now I've started school, plus I'm working on moving, I'm traveling to DC on Friday, gotta figure out my cat-sitting situation, and now my dumb desktop computer is on the fritz.

Thankfully I have a laptop, so I'm able to provide you all with my ranting once again.

My desktop was built for me, and incidentally the person who put it together used a pirated copy of Windows. Now it won't even start because it's telling me to re-install Windows. That would be great if I had the disc, but I don't. And it would be great if I was assured I wouldn't lose everything on it, like my pictures and music. But oh no, I'm illiterate when it comes to uber-technical stuff (or really any kind of labor, for that matter).

Why don't I just call up the guy who built my computer and see what he can do? Well, that would be a magical idea if it weren't my ex-boyfriend. Dammit. This is why I hate people doing favors for me because you never know when they'll be on your shit list later and then you're screwed when you need something done.

Which also brings me to the next IT person on my list - the guy who took forever to e-mail me and ended up having a 12-year-old kid! Grrreat. Can't use him as a resource unless I want to make a play date after.

Why is it that all the technical people I meet are dipshit males??

There is the IT guy who comes into my work every now and again. I'll see what he can do for me. Unless anyone out there reading this (all 2 of you) knows someone who can help me with this problem on the cheap.

Which brings me to my next rant - money. I've been reading Suze Orman, yet I'm more broke than ever it feels like! I'm saving up for my new place, so that could be why. And my DC trip might cost a pretty penny. Yikes. Oh, how the worries never end.

In a happier note, I had a really good weekend. On Saturday, Marilyn and I went to the movies and saw "The Final Destination" in 3D. Of course nothing beats the original, but it was very entertaining. And the 3D aspect was awesome - definitely saw a lot of blood up close. Lovely.

Here we are in our cool glasses:


Later on, Steve came to visit from Chico and the 3 of us ate at Fat's, which FYI is the best restaurant ever. I had their banana cream pie, which was heeeeeaaaaaveeeen! Definitely the highlight of the night (oh yeah, Steve and Marilyn were OK too).

Yesterday Steve and I went to the State Fair, and lo and behold we got in touch with nature - we saw a baby cow being born! Best birth control ever. Let me just say there were chains and lots and goo involved. It was actually kind of amazing - the mom just licked the baby after it came out, and in a way it was kind of cute (minus the goo).

Now it's the week and back to the grind. Highights of the day: dinner with Alanna at the new Boudin and then coming home to Kate telling me, "Tracy, I have some bad news. Maggie (the dog) ate your thong."

Happy Monday!

Ode to My London Ladies

(*Note: I was told that my blog appears to only be an outlet for my bitching, but I'd like to prove this assumption wrong and post something positive! Bitching to resume shortly).

Before my senior year of college, I studied abroad during the summer in London. It was hands-down one of the best experiences of my life - not only is the city amazing (the history, the shopping, the landscape, the people, the accents - I could go on for days!), but I also met the most amazing people.

There were 3 girls with whom I bonded instantly - I call them my London Ladies, and here they are below (from left to right: Erica, Sandra, Katie and me).


This was taken after we saw "Cleopatra and Antony" in Shakespeare's Globe Theatre.

I've always enjoyed watching coming-of-age movies featuring close-knit girlfriends ("Now and Then," "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants," to name a few). I was always so envious of these girls because they got along and were always there for each other - very little cattiness and competition. Yes, I know they are Hollywood movies, but I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to experience that type of female camaraderie.

Don't get me wrong, I have some great girlfriends in my life. The only issue is that they are scattered throughout the country given that I've moved 4 times into 3 different states since I was 11.

When I met my London Ladies, we all clicked instantly. Erica and I were the West Coast girls, Katie and Sandra the East Coasters. Although we only knew each other a short time, we got super close, and that has always stuck with me these past 3 years - everything from eating the crazy breakfast at our school to taking buses around the city to the time at Stonehenge when I wouldn't stop pissing and moaning about the rain and Erica yelled at me, making me cry shortly after (we resolved it like 20 minutes later).

The exciting part is that I decided to e-mail the girls and catch up a few weeks ago. We had about 3 years worth of catching up to do, and after exchanging long e-mails, we decided we'd better meet up for a reunion ASAP. And that's exactly what we're doing come Labor Day weekend!

We're all headed to meet at Katie's place outside of Washington, DC! I couldn't be more excited to see my traveling buddies and reconnect. And while we're not trading around some pair of jeans, I still think our bond beats any movie any day.

Buckingham Palace

17 Again

I went to Erica's last night, and we (OK, fine....SHE) cooked dinner and we watched "17 Again." The movie stars Zac Efron (a.k.a. the hottie from "Hairspray" who is way too young for me), and the premise involves Zac Efron as an adult getting to go back to being his 17-year-old self and attend high school with his two teenaged kids (kind of like "Big," only not as classic).

This got me thinking about what it would be like if I could go back to being my 17-year-old self (like in the above picture, circa 2003). Granted, that was only 6-1/2 years ago, but it made me realize how far I've come since high school.

For example:

17-year-old Tracy
I was somehow under the illusion that I had an awesome relationship with my boyfriend at the time. We were "in love" and without-a-doubt going to end up together. During our junior year of high school, he revealed to me one fine afternoon that he'd cheated on me with this incredibly awful girl named Jessie.....like 6 months prior! Ahhh, yes. A point for his honesty. And -10,000 points for his punk ass cheating on the one-and-only Tracy T! I cried for days about it, and what do ya know? All it took for that character to get back into my good graces was a poem and a couple "I'm sorrys." We spent the next year of our relationship fighting, with me bringing up the Jessie infidelity in probably 87% of every argument.

23-year-old Tracy
I've had my heart broken in the worst ways, and while this has made me incredibly sad at times, it has also thickened my skin to the point where I feel so much more confident in my relationships. I'm nowhere near where I want to be, but the progress I've made after each gut-wrenching, nausea-inducing break up is invaluable. If I could go back to being 17, I would have kicked that prick to the curb way sooner! Probably even before the cheating confession. We had a myriad of problems from the get-go, which is kind of the drill when it comes to high school trysts. I've learned from my most recent relationship that if you have a deal-breaker of a problem and you break up, there's no going back or making things better the second, third, three-hundredth time around. I was WAY into the last guy I dated (think that lovely four-letter word starting with "L"). He, on the other hand, was NOT feeling me in the same way. I think his exact words were, "I'm not sure if the love I have for you is for a girlfriend or a friend. Oh, and you also remind me of my sister." (Insert another mix of four-letter words here, namely ones that begin with "S" and "F"). I could have continued dating him because we always had a good time together, no fighting, no overt problems. But there was that voice inside my head telling me that if someone is unsure if they are in love with me after 8 months, it's high time to pack my bags and jet like a bat outta Hades.

My high school BF obviously embodied everything wrong in a relationship (cocky, dishonest, unfaithful, guilt-tripping, name-calling, etc.), but I was so naive and a pushover that it took me way too long to stand up for myself (speaking of which, true story: my dad told me he'd pay me $50 to tell my high school boyfriend to "go f*** himself." I did it. Several times. Where's the cash, Dad? Oh yeah....he did pay for my college, so I shouldn't complain).

Overall lesson learned: Dump the zeros so as to make room for the heroes.

17-year-old Tracy
My best friend Christina and I have been tight ever since middle school. She and I are both nerds to the core and adore Harry Potter. Not to mention, we made up some kick ass dance routines to Ace of Base while messing around during school play practice. At 17, I don't think I valued her as much as I do now. I saw every close girlfriend as my competition - competing for male attention, better grades, getting into the best school, the best dress for the homecoming dance...you catch my drift. Everything was a race - I remember even feeling triumphant when I bought the new Britney Spears CD before Christina did. Why all of the competition and jealousy?

Well, it didn't help that Christina and I were both very wrapped up in our boyfriends at 17. We were both interested in joining the debate team, but at the last minute, Christina backed out because she said she was too busy with other commitments. And what do ya know, I happened to stop by a local high school that was holding debate tournaments, and who do I see coming out of the competition? Christina and her new partner, Amie! Ahh yes...that was a nice blow. But I guess I deserved it because I stole Christina's boyfriend Bryan in 8th grade (oh, and how that little fruitcake was so not worth the fighting). All I know is that she and I had issues in high school despite our close friendship.

23-year-old Tracy
There is not a good thing that happens to Christina that doesn't make me 10 times happier. Seeing her succeed and live her dreams is the ultimate, and I can't think of a recent time when I didn't wish anything less than good things for her. She is way ahead of the game (more so than me, I'd say): she's a medical student, she's been with her boyfriend for a number of years in a healthy, stable relationship (what the hell is that like?), she actually knows what it's like to live with a guy successfully, she is well traveled and she was recently crowned Miss Nevada! I cried when she won because I've been attending almost every pageant of hers for the last 6 years (or at least the ones I could attend - she's competed a lot on the east coast as well).

So basically, her happiness is my happiness. I don't begrudge her or feel jealous when good things come her way. Wouldn't I expect the same from my best friend?

Overall lesson learned: There are only a rare number of friends we will carry with us for the rest of our lives, so don't let petty, irrelevant things jeopardize this. (Two of my best friends below, Amie - yes, the "other" woman at the debate tournament - Christina and me at the 2009 Miss Nevada Pageant in Reno).


17-year-old Tracy
OK, so technically I was 18 when this happened, but I thought this was a really good example of self-reliance. During my freshman year of college at the University of Oregon, I thought I'd overdosed on - you guessed it - Vitamin C. While most of my classmates were toking it up in their rooms or popping Aderalls left and right in order to stay up and study, I was tricked into taking too much Vitamin C and Zinc from my BF at the time in order to combat the cold I thought I was catching.

Now, a little background here. I used to have a major case of emetophobia. This is the fear of throwing up, and yes it's real (it's actually one of the Top 10 most common phobias). I'm not as bad as I used to be, but during freshman year, my fear was in high gear (wow, that was a lot of rhyming). So after popping a few too many of each pill, I freaked out and called my parents. Bad idea. My dad called Poison Control and told me I'd be fine. (He later told me out of spite after I snapped at him that P.C. had actually told him I might throw up. Thanks, Pop). I was fine, but it sure gave me a scare.

23-year-old Tracy
While I may have 4 different types of hand sanitizer in my purse, I'm not going to be on an episode of A&E's "Obsessed" anytime soon. I think college taught me how to rely on myself and my own resources before resorting to the panicked parental call. I now stop and think about how I can best solve something, and if I'm in need of further advice or insight, I tend to call my parents in a more relaxed state. A lot less freak outs and panic attacks these days, not to mention I no longer need to use my membership for the online International Emetophobia Society (yes, I was a member at one point). I still call my parents often because they mean the world to me, but it's safe to say I no longer need adult supervision when it comes to my pill intake. I took my multivitamin this morning and feel just fine.

Overall lesson learned: It's a thrilling experience when your mom and dad slowly transition out of the "parenting" stage and you no longer need them to hold your hand when you cross that metaphorical street. But that doesn't mean you don't want them right by your side when you do cross.

In sum, I'm very happy with how I've turned out so far as a young adult. I think the melodrama was fun while it lasted, but being a grown up is so much better! I have more meaningful relationships, my friends are my best allies and there's nothing I love more than feeling proud when I accomplish something all by myself.

LSEF

The above acronym stands for one of my pet peeves when it comes to friendships: Low Self Esteem Friends. These aren't the people who necessarily have low self esteem; they just make YOU feel like you should feel crappy about yourself and question every bit of confidence you thought you had.

I have a couple LSEFs. They're both similar in a lot of ways - attractive, fit, successful, intelligent, use SAT words now and again. They might even be a tad on the materialistic side as well. Either way, they have a lot going on for themselves, and they sure want you to know about it!

One of the top 3 things that boils my blood is when people brag incessantly - it's my theory that people do so because they are secretly insecure. They try and cover this insecurity by flailing their successes left and right, hoping to convince everyone around them that they have perfect lives and you should envy them.

I actually DON'T feel jealous toward people like this - I can see right through them. If you're so incredibly happy and secure, why try and share it with the whole world? It's like those people who constantly update their Facebook photos/status/about me and flood them with "I'm so happy" and "My life is so wonderful" sentiments. Yes, we all like to share good times with others, but by doing so non-stop, it gives off the impression that you're not only trying to convince other people, but yourself as well. We can't all be happy all the time. Sometimes our lives suck, so just own up to it!

Anyway, these LSEFs are people I've had to endure in my life, and while these friends obviously have more redeeming qualities than not (I wouldn't call them friends otherwise), it's still frustrating to carry on a conversation with someone who makes me think, "Should I be doing more than my 10-minute Solutions workout videos?" or "Was eating that second Toblerone bar really worth it?" or "Do I suck at my job - no, wait - life?"

The best anecdote I can think of for dealing with LSEFs is to not only talk yourself out of feeling down and out, but to subsequently surround yourself with a friend or family member who makes you feel on top of the world. Yes, I know it's all about relying on yourself to make you happy, but positive reinforcement from other people is crucial sometimes. I'm fortunate to have an awesome family that loves me for me, and there are a select few friends of mine who could be called HSEFs (no need to explain that acronym there).

I could go on and on about my wonderful support system, but then I'd just be bragging. And I don't want you to stop reading my blog.