Honesty Spiders

What’s worse, the spider or the web?

I like to think rejection is like a spider. If you walk through the web, you’re going to spend the next hour freaking out over every little thing that touches you, looking for that damn spider. Now if you just find a spider, you can make the decision to squash it, or to let it outside so it can eat all the flying bugs. It’s the same with rejection. If someone is like “Hey, I’m just not feeling you, sorry.” You can either A. freak the fuck out and be all sad and stuff, or B. ask them why.

From there they spider is in their hands. They can choose to just ignore you, and never tell you why. And let you spend the rest of that week wondering what it was about you that turned them off. Or they can do the grown up thing, look the confrontation in the face and say “hey, you’re a nice enough person, but I really don’t like that one thing you do, or the way you talk.” It’s even worse when you have some back story with this person, then you’re like “um, hold the fuck on, where did all this come from, we had a fantastic time the other day!” of course maybe you are just oblivious to other peoples subtle hints.

This isn’t necessarily something I am going through right now, I just need to vent. I really think brutal honesty, no matter how harsh, is always the best policy. It’s like when you have a booger hanging off your nose, and you spend like 10 minutes just sitting around talking to people, and then one friend grabs you and says “dude, you have a lingerer, you really need to check your face out!” Then you blush because everyone spent the past few minutes staring at the giant ball of mucus on your face. It’s not good for anyone. I mean really, by being super honest, you are giving that person a second chance with someone else. It’s not that they have to change; you are just giving them the option.

There have been countless occasions where I was doing something super annoying subconsciously. Someone called me out on it, and I corrected the behavior. No one wants to be a super annoying douche bag. Help these people out. It’s your civic duty. Forget Sarah McLachlan and her orphan puppies. We need a sad song and an 800 number for honesty, people!

                

On moving in with boys

In about a month, I will be living with two single men. It’s like this whole reverse threes company thing. I couldn’t be more excited, or terrified.

1.     There is only one bathroom in the house. I am concerned about poop smells.

2.     What if they leave hair in the sink?

3.     What if I leave hair in the sink?

4.     What if I really have to pee when one of them is in the shower? I know I’m not afraid of just walking in and doing it, but I have to get in with their comfort levels.

5.     What if they don’t like anything I cook? Wait, never mind.

6.     I sleep naked, and I hardly ever wear a bra when I am at home. I’m not modest, but if I find pictures of my sleepy nakedness anywhere, I will murder them.

7.     What if they only watch horror movies and they think it’s funny to scare me?

8.     What if they run away from me when I cry?

9.     What if they cry?

10. What if they never do their dishes?

11. What if they accidently put my favorite jeans in the dryer?

12.What if they start wearing my underwear?

13. Are they going to mind if I wear their clothing?

14. Are they going to mind that I sing all the fucking time?

15. Are they going to ignore me when I need attention?

16. Are they constantly going to have annoying, skinny, beautiful women over?

17.   Are they going to play pranks on me?

18.   What if they think I’m annoying when I drink?

19.   What if they drink all my beer?

20.   What if one of them falls in love with me?

Most of my concerns will lose their sparkle after I take my first dump in the house. I highly doubt either of them will start eating my makeup, but I will kill them if they do. We have two rules.

1.       The pants rule. When bringing over friends, you must notify all members of the household within 15 minutes of your arrival. We don’t like wearing pants.

2.       No sex between roomies. No exceptions.

They are pretty easy rules. They make sense; there aren’t a lot of loopholes. I feel safe with those.

I am kind of viewing this whole adventure as me getting two new brothers.

Everything I have read about it being harder to write when you are happy is true. I have been pretty happy over the past few weeks. I had one really super awful week, heard a lot of really awful things, and went like 5 days on 15 hours of sleep. It sucked. Then I came home, and knew I couldn’t write about any of the things that were upsetting me, because it would involve me putting a bunch of business out there. And I know that none of you really want to read about all my drama anyways.

UPDATE: I had originally posted this in a separate post, but I deleted it. I need to learn about discretion.. or something.