NSA?

NSA. Never Sing Alone? No Silly Answers? Nice Sweet Ass? No, even better…NSA…No.Strings.Attached. In a world where sex is rampant and love is a rarity, are we being led to believe that a love life of No Strings Attached is the new norm? I’m pretty sure it’s a known fact that when a woman has sex with a guy who she even has a smidge of a crush on, that once the deal is done, she likes him more (even if it wasn’t life altering layage). Guys on the other hand seem to have no problem with the chew and screw or wam bam thank you ma’am concepts. Puff.
Granted I’ve known a gal or two who has freely admitted to taking advantage of the male skill of not becoming attached simply because it’s been a while for her…or she just needed to feel wanted, even if just for a night. And typically, she checks her phone for the next week hoping he’ll call…and he doesn’t. Puff. And in the other corner, we’ve got…the guy…the guy who has zero problem having relations with said girl and never talking to her again. Puff. A male acquaintance of mine told me he was contemplating having a NSA encounter with a lady friend of his, but was afraid she would become attached. And then he said this (brace yourselves), “The aftermath isn’t worth my deposit.” (Yes…he said…deposit.) Is it possible for us to rewire ourselves to not become attached once we’ve sealed the deal?Puff.
I become attached to a pair of shoes the instant I buy them, so how are we not supposed to become attached to a cute boy who pays attention to us and gives us an O!? Puff. Do we channel the most arrogant, pretentious guy we know and just convince ourselves that we’ve simply used the guy for their goods and then meet our girlfriends for lunch without gushing? If only we could channel Samantha from Sex and the City and pretend like the double standard of NSA for women isn’t completely different from men. Puff. Guy has NSA lovin with a handful (or more!) of girls and he’s a rockstar. Girl does the same thing…whorebag. What the!? How does that make sense? Is it because society instinctively knows that it takes the exception to the rule girl to change the NSA guy? Puff.
NSA. What a concept. There are those of us who can and will try to embrace it. Some will succeed, while others will cry into their latte the next day because he hasn’t called. Either way, we as women are wired to love, to become attached and to expect an effing call..a text..a smoke signal…something! In an age where love is becoming harder to come by because NSA lovin has become the norm, perhaps we hold on to our strings with all we’ve got. Depuff.

A Conquering Puff.

They say love conquers all. What I want to know is who “they” is and if they were ever in a real relationship. Puff. Romeo and Juliet were in love…and they died…death conquered all, not love. What conquers all is being able to deal with all the real life crapola that is thrown at you in a relationship. This proverbial crapola comes in the forms of ex girlfriends, friends and your significant others less than stellar family members. Puff.
The older we get the more we have to consider that the people who surround the person that we love could potentially become our in laws…and that can be a frightening, frightening thought. How is the guy that you’re totally smitten with possibly the spawn of such a wretched woman? Or how is his brother or sister such a defunct member of society? We’ve all been there. It’s time to meet the parents and while you’re putting together your best outfit for said meeting, you’re also thinking to yourself, “What if they don’t like me?,” or “What if their house is filthy” and of course, “Will these people get along with my family!?” No pressure. Puff.
If these kids were all raised in the same house…by the same parents…how in the effing world did your fella’s sibling end up being such a DISASTER!? No license, no job, no life and sometimes no shower. Holding my nose puff. And while it would be fantastic if the smelly loser sibling were living in California…far, far away…they are, in fact, living 5 miles away and lounging on YOUR couch EVERY Sunday watching football games with your beau. They not only muck off your dream of a perfect little in law family, but then they ask you to hook them up “with any of your hot friends!?” Ick. Puff. Buddy, I wouldn’t hook you up with a prostitute with syphilis for fear that she would be ashamed of you. Puff.
Oh, hello ex girlfriend…ex wife…ex hookup. We hate you. We can pretend to like you because if your relationship hadn’t flopped, we wouldn’t have our current manpiece, or because you mothered the our potential step (or as I like to call them “bonus”) child…but the truth is, we don’t like you…and you reallllly don’t like us. You’re like that ingrown old lady hair that we sometimes grow on our chin (admit it, we all have one!) that no matter how many times we wax, cut, thread or yank out, you keep.coming.back.Puff. Sure we love love love our fella, but we didn’t sign up for this! Puff.
“I don’t care if your friends like me.” Funny, I do. The end.Puff.
Perhaps I am a cynic and I haven’t experienced a love so great that it truly can conquer all, and perhaps it does exist. If love can conquer all, maybe we just take in stride all the things that could potentially conquer love and we conquer acceptance. De-puff.

The Boy Who Cried Puff

We’ve all seen that guy on the dance floor. He makes drunken eye contact with a girl, thrusts his hands back with his imaginary fishing pole…and casts. Then we see said girl flopping like the sorry little fish she is on her imaginary lure and into the “fishermans” grasp….alll while Bel Biv Devoe plays over the club speakers. In real life, not only do we get suckered into the boys ridiculous lure, but there is no Bel Biv Devoe and we can’t even blame our suckerdom on being drunk…and we are typically not wearing sequins (or at least shouldn’t be!). Puff.
A sucker by definition is someone who is easily swayed to believe pretty much anything. I…am a self proclaimed sucker. Puppies, children, Mexican food and guys who tell me they love me have alllll made me their victim. Getting lost in someone’s eyes is a sure fire way to know you’ve been dooped…it’s like you’re lost in a twilight zone of mushiness and there’s no escape. How can we protect ourselves from the person who tells us they are falling in love with us and then two days later break it off “because they’re scared.” Bullshit Puff.
Spiders. Scary. Southie.Scary. Jail.Scary.Skydiving…obviously scary. Love…feeling ooshy gooshy marshmallowey goodness love…NOT EFFING SCARY! Puff. Love is not the scary part. Commitment is the scary part. As overanalyzers, we ladyfollk meet a guy and within 30 minutes have imagined what our kids would look like and have written our new married name in our imaginary notebook in our head at least twice..once in cursive, once in print!Puff. Guys…in the first thirty minutes they picture us naked and they pray to God that they don’t get us preggers. Puff.
Once in a while though, we have a moment of pure bliss where we find ourselves staring into his eyes and he says it… “I think…I’m falling in love with you.” You, of course are elated and before you can even text the majority of your girlfriends, the dude….cries…wolf. Puff. “I love you, but I’m not ready for a relationship.” “You’re the kind of girl I want to marry, but right now…just isn’t a good time for me.” “My career will always come first and that’s just not fair to you.” So many more BS excuses have been spewed from the mouths of said boys that it all sounds like Charlie Brown’s teacher by the end of it all.Puff. However, that’s not the worst part! After you’ve cried, drank 2 bottles of wine and scratched his name out of your imaginary notebook and wrote “DICK” over the top….he’s back…he’s “MADE A MISTAKE!” He’s sorry and wants you back. He’s “JUST SCARED.” In the movie version of your life you tell him to eff off while wearing some amazingly put together outfit and walk away with the real prince charming, but in real life, you cry….again…and say, “Ok, but don’t do it again!” Annnnnd repeat! Puff.
The boy who cried wolf…or love…or scaredy pants…whatever it is, we’ve all encountered him. It’s up to us to decide how many times we let him cry wolf and sometimes that requires closing our eyes to the marshmallowey goodness of a hot staring contest. Sometimes it requires remembering just how awesome we really are and that love, while not easy, is no wolf. De-Puff.