Why I Could Never Be a Golddigger

Note, this blogpost is not titled “why I don’t think it’s right to be a golddigger;” or “why I would never be a golddigger.” It’s Why I Could Never Be a Golddigger, which I’ll get to in just a minute.

Why I do think it’s right to be a golddigger, quite simply put is because golddiggers get shit done. Today we were at Target, picking up more canning supplies and body wash, and I saw what was clearly a golddigger with nice clothes, a Gucci purse, tons of diamonds, and a guy about three times her age with his hand on her ass.

Hand on her ass. The dude had to be 70.

While my husband was keeping his body wash separate from mine so that he didn’t accidentally get charged for it, this lady had a cart full of all the terribly useless crap Target has to offer. She had tons of expensive shampoos and hair products. She had – like – four kitchen appliances and a new suitcase. When we walked passed them, she was saying something about how “cute” some Target home decorative thing was and he said “anything for you, baby.”

Anything for you, baby. Words I have never heard.

Golddiggers get shit done. I’m sure there is a happy medium between being a golddigger and being a “give the milk for free” kind of gal. But not only do golddiggers get shit done, they make damn sure they get treated with the respect they deserve.

Why I would be a golddigger, were my husband and I to ever separate – quite simply put is because this cow ain’t giving out milk for free anymore. I have gone on way too many dates where the guy was cheap – something no woman should ever tolerate. My own husband has never actually taken me out on a real date. Our first time out he asked me for my half of the In ‘N’ Out order.

I’m not intending to talk badly about my husband or anything (actually … who taught him to treat women like that?); and there are plenty of things that make up for how cheap he can be. I’m just trying to illustrate just how much milk I have ended up giving out for free over the years. Maybe it’s California because before meeting my husband I dated a lot of guys out here that were very similar – cheap and expecting everything to come to them.

The point is that a golddigger demands the respect she deserves by virtue of her golddigging. Again, I’m sure there is a happy medium between nothing and everything. In the meantime, let’s hold fast to how much respect the golddigger commands.

Now to the point of this post altogether: Why I Could Never Be a Golddigger, quite simply put, is because I’m a slob. A pigslob. I’m an uncouth, unkempt, self-professed gutter whore.

#1 Every other word out of my mouth is a curse word. I mean every other fucking word. I don’t really swear around the Pookies, but every once in a while one slips. And then there was that one time (about an hour ago) that I announced “I think I pulled my left ass-cheek muscle vacuuming today.”

#2 I am terribly unkempt. Today was a particularly long and arduous day. I baked. I cooked. I made a delectable dinner that everyone bitched and complained about. I cleaned the bathrooms. I dusted. I did three loads of laundry. I vacuumed. And I scrubbed down the kitchen. Tonight I was sitting here working on my blog and eating some frozen yogurt to reward myself for all the work I did and I dropped a little bit on my shirt. No big deal, right? Just get a napkin and wipe it off, right? Well the napkins were too far away, and quite frankly I didn’t want to lose out on any speck of my fro yo, so I just licked it up. Licked it right up faithful blog followers, off my shirt. Then I went about my business.

#3 I say what I’m thinking irrespective of where I am or who I’m saying it to. I don’t act like a total jerk about it; and oftentimes I censor myself for a moment or two so as to not be rude. I also avoid conflict, but when I have something snarky or funny to say – I say it.

A great example of this was last night. We went out to dinner to what we thought was a restaurant/sports bar – but that had apparently remodeled since we were last there – to create this faux French bistro theme. Everything seems to be french-themed in our community these days – the fucking Eiffel tower is plastered everywhere, much to the disdain of those of us that actually have lived in or visited France, studied the French, or are Francophone. Nonetheless, it’s close to our apartment and the only other option it seemed was the Italian place next door that specializes in Barilla lasagna and fish tacos (I know … huh?).

When I looked through the menu, I immediately saw that the things they claimed to have added a “French twist” to were the exact same items as were available when it was a restaurant/sports bar. I didn’t know that the French serve BBQ Western hamburgers and turkey with mashed potatoes! The prices were a little higher as well; maybe that was the French twist. But all my old go-tos were the same: BBQ chicken salad, chicken sandwich with fontina cheese, and caprese thin-crust pizza, so I was happy to just go with the pizza. French you say?

So I had two classes of wine (not French, I might add) by the end of my not-French meal and was feeling a little lippy. It was loud and there were a lot of people there, so I didn’t think it would be a big deal if I leaned over to my husband and cracked a joke.

“Nick … this place is about as French as my asshole. You know what … I’m going to open a restaurant called ‘My French Asshole and Italian Hoo-Haa.’ Our main dishes will be hamburgers, donuts, and fish tacos.”

My husband immediately leaned a little closer to me, I could only assume to applaud my crass humor (that has never actually happened), and pointed out that the manager of the restaurant was standing right behind me to ask how our meal was.

So you see, faithful blog followers: I could never be a golddigger. It isn’t that I wouldn’t (because I would), or that I would have some sort of moral opposition to it (because I think in many cases it’s the only way to get shit done). Nope, I couldn’t be a golddigger because I’m a crass pigslob.

And on another note, we could also have an alternate title to this blogpost: Reasons That Birth Control Should Be Added To My Water Supply.

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Name That Wang

Yes, I did just title this blog post “Name That Wang.” Much to your chagrin though, faithful blog followers, I’m not that much of a pervert to post what you probably all thought I was posting.

Or am I…

Okay, now to the real topic: naming one’s wang or she-cave.

Today I went to Kmart for the first time in over fifteen years and overheard a conversation between a couple in the Family Planning aisle that made me think of this topic. My mother is in town and after having lunch she asked if we could stop by the discount superstore so she could pick up some foot cream for my grandfather; of course, foot fungus being closely related to family planning, we were in the right place at the right time to overhear this horrifying conversation. It went like this:

She: “Ooooh, baby we should try this new K-Y pleasure gel.”

He: “We don’t need that for passion.”

She: “I think we should try it.”

He: “Girl, that stuff’s like fifteen dollars and the Trojans already run me twenty bucks.”

She: “Well … I’m just saying, Cornucopia would be much fuller if Squash used that pleasure gel.”

At this point, I had to walk away, stifling the urge to laugh hysterically and then vomit all over the Dr. Scholl’s display. It’s bad enough that an overwhelming number of people name their body parts, oftentimes sharing that name with others – but to name it something as ridiculous as Cornucopia and Squash? Not only is this blatantly unoriginal, it’s rife with ridicule. Like for example this: that cornucopia’s overflowing with all different kinds of squash, if you know what I’m saying…

Gross.

So after I got home, I decided to Google “names for private parts.” I don’t know why – probably because I have no life and nothing better to do; more likely because I was so disturbed by this couple’s name for their junk. But I wanted to know if maybe it was just me – maybe Cornucopia and Squash are just as common place as referring to them as the actual anatomically correct names?

Well, I’ve got news for you, faithful blog followers – Cornucopia and Squash was nowhere on the list. Either these Family Planning (planning? … more like prevention) shoppers met over Thanksgiving, or they really have no creativity whatsoever. The cream of the crop (so to speak) from the sixteen lists I read through during my Google search?

Her Princess and His Pokey

Her Taco Belle and His Fire Sauce (I don’t know… is Fire Sauce supposed to mean sperm or what? …)

Her Prune and His Peanut (… this makes me sad.)

Her Venus and His Penisaurus Rex

Her Pot-Pot-belly and His Tallywacker (WTF)

Her Beefcake and His Tater Tot (WTF to the 2nd power)

And in one of the online forums I found a couple of these, someone so eloquently pointed out that: I have used Cooter, hooha, and yahoo!!!  Sort of depends on the occasion. Way to keep it classy for the occasion, lady…

One article I read (an actual article) stated that most sex researchers believe the nicknames people give to their wangs and she-caves reflect cultural attitudes about men and women and their roles in relationships. I don’t know if I buy all that. I mean – Taco Belle and Fire Sauce? Cornucopia and Squash? I think these nicknames reflect nothing more than what I’ve been saying all along – words cannot describe how truly weird people are.

Relationship Commandments

Let’s not beat around the bush, here:  I’ve been around the block a time or two.  No, I’m not saying “been around the block” in the sense that I’ve whored around and probably carry enough STDs to make a scientist at the World Health Organization salivate with the possibility of using my disease combinations to study the effects of promiscuous behavior.  I’m saying I’ve been in a lot of relationships, of many different variety.

In those varied relationships, I’ve learned some very obvious rules to abide by; commandments, you might say.  Now, while I’m talking about romantic relationships, this could also apply to friendships, family relationships, as well as work associates.   I see some of the experiences I’ve had in romance (dating, living together, marriage) as microcosms of the ways in which people should treat all relations with others.  But for now, it’s more fun to keep it to the romantic ones.

Relationship Commandment #1  

Thou Shalt Not Talk About Your Ex

Nothing is worse than when someone won’t just shut the fuck up about their ex.  I know, I know – sometimes it is obvious when a person is out on the rebound, looking to drown those horrible, broken feelings in hours of apple martinis and random one night stands.  But it’s still a sign that a person has little care about anyone’s feelings but their own when they continue the conversation beyond the initial break-up.  No one cares if your girlfriend did X or Y in a way that you felt was wrong.  Trust me:  it doesn’t make anyone feel good to hear you talk about, or talk shit of, your ex.

Relationship Commandment #2  

Thou Shalt Be Present 

I’m not really talking about physical presence – everyone has other obligations (work, school, etc.).  I’m talking about emotional presence.  Nothing is more damaging to a relationship than when someone is completely unable to be emotionally present in it.  The whole point of relationships is to share emotion; a concept that seems to be lost more often now than ever before.  If you are unable to be emotionally or mentally present in your relationship, chances are you shouldn’t be in a relationship with another person to begin with.

Relationship Commandment #3

Thou Shalt Always Honor Commitments or Communicate Otherwise

I have had the great fortune of being in a relationship with someone that truly believed it was acceptable to not show up for a planned evening together.  He did not call, he did not text – we made plans and he just blew them off.  Later when I asked if he thought it was okay to do that he said he knew people who would think it was.  No apologies, no justifications – just “I think it’s perfectly okay to do.”  Well, faithful blog followers, it is most certainly not.  Anyone who thinks it is okay to be ditched like that has some serious boundary issues they need to work on (as in they have none).  It is never okay to completely abandon a commitment made to a significant other.  Recently I surveyed some of my Facebook followers in preparation of this blog to see what they thought, and the results unambiguously support Relationship Commandment #4: Thou Shalt Always Honor Commitments or Communicate Otherwise.

Relationship Commandment #4

Thou Shalt Be Honest at All Times

The amount that people seem to lie now a days is really starting to get under my skin.  In any sort of relationship – romantic, business, familial, or otherwise – it is never okay to lie.  Ever.  It is not okay either to be equivocal with the intent to deceive.  Lastly, “what they don’t know won’t hurt them…” is not an acceptable mantra.  Relationships are built on trust, which is only found through honesty.  There is no such thing as blind faith in another human being – that is reserved for God, Allah, or whatever religious entity you may (or may not) subscribe to.  (In fact, if someone believes you should have blind faith in them, they obviously think they are God and thus have severe delusions of grandeur you should get the fuck away from.)  The thing about a lie is this:  at some point, it’s going to come out.  Whether it be later on when he finds out you really aren’t into football, or when your secretary calls the house wondering where you’ve been for two hours when you said you were heading home for lunch…and once that trust is broken, it is very hard to get it back.

Relationship Commandment #5

Thou Shalt Never Swap Sex Stories

The only reason I can see for a man to need to swap sex stories with others is because he either needs to prove he can get it up, or assert his heterosexuality.  The only reason I can see for a woman to need to swap sex stories with others is to talk shit about the man and his penis.  In either event, it’s wrong.  The bedroom is considered private for a reason; and while you may think it is perfectly acceptable to talk about the position and moisture level from last night with anyone and everyone, unless you’ve explicitly and verbally cleared that with your significant other you have no right to do so.  Let’s remember that in this world we are not the only ones that exist and have feelings.  When you are telling all your lady friends that your boyfriend’s penis is flaccid half the time, and like boning lumpy mashed potatoes the other half, I’m pretty sure his feelings would be terribly hurt if he knew you were talking about it.

People I Would Have an Affair With

It’s possible, faithful blog followers, that I might delete this post shortly after putting it out there – the idea of it winding up as evidence in divorce court ala Kim Kardashian-style marital values is frightening.  That said, I would never be in a position to even consider or think about or weigh the possibility of having an affair with any of these people, nor would it even be an option, so really we can all chalk this up to crazy old Heather just being silly …

Right …

A couple weeks ago I blogged about people I have had a secret crush on for years.  Included on that list was Conan O’Brien and the young priests on EWTN (I know, I know – I’m going to hell).  I also mentioned in my post about Tom Skilling that I am insanely in love with Wolf Blitzer.  I have no idea what it is, but I get hot flashes when he comes on the TV.  I’m getting them right now, actually.  Anyway, today I was at a book fair participating on a panel about how authors can promote their books and shortly after the talk, I meandered into the book expo that was going on next to the area where all the panel discussions were being held.  To my surprise, a lot of the books were these women’s lib-type, self-helpish books about acknowledging your inner self, your truest desires, and overcoming social boundaries (like marriage).

So I thought it would be fun to take it even one step further with my crushes and my obsessive desire for Wolf Blitzer’s aging body and express my truest desires by making a list of People I Would Have an Affair With, with reasoning why.  I think the ‘why’ is important because you will note my reasoning is much different than just my weird crushes (which one blogger noted seems consistent with a beard fetish).  Social boundaries be damned, I’m sharing my list:

People I Would Have an Affair With

#1 Any dead philosopher circa 1700 – 2000, also Plato

This includes, but is not limited to:  David Hume, Jean-Paul Sartre, Bertrand Russell (I have a hard on for him right now), and Richard Rorty.  This has absolutely nothing to do with anything other than my extreme mental and intellectual needs, which I am positive an affair with any or all dead philosophers would satiate.  That said, look at that intelligent, bald head on Plato … how can anyone be expected to control themselves around that?

#2 Any dead writer from the Lost Generation

Yes, I’m talking about Fitz, Hem, and that crazy Ezra Pound.  Any of those guys that ran in the circle of artists in Paris just after the war get me so hot and bothered I have to take a cold shower.  Right now I’m reading “Flappers and Philosophers” by F. Scott Fitzgerald; the pages of description literally make me drool.  Again, though, you will note that this is a mental-sexual attraction I have, which is completely irrespective of logic, time, or physical appearance.

#3 King Arthur as played by Sean Connery in First Knight

Note:  not King Arthur as played by anyone else in any other movie about Sir Lancelot.  Note further:  not Sean Connery in any other movie but this one.  Note:  not Richard Geer.  I have no idea why, but the silent pain on the face of King Arthur when he catches whats-her-face with the gerbil-lover is hot.

#4 Wolf Blitzer

See previous blogs, particularly My Crush on Conan O’Brien, and Others, Why I Hate Tom Skilling, and Magic 100, or Things I Want to Do Before I Turn 30.

#5 Anyone high up in the Russian government

For some reason, whenever I see Vladimir Putin I get excited.  Something about that stolid, austere demeanor makes me go wild.  I’m also a fan of accents, almost as much as I am a fan of beards.

#6 Dog the Bounty Hunter

I think that danger and the quality of being a badass is exciting to me.  Dog the Bounty Hunter is a complete hillbilly, and yet something about him fascinates me.

#7 Almost anyone in the NBA, with the exception of Kobe Bryant

This is self-explanatory as to why.  Not self-explanatory, though, is my hatred of Kobe Bryant.  Not only do I hate Kobe because he is an illiterate rapist who cheats on his wife and cannot form a complete sentence without sounding like a fifth grader, but he’s a homophobe and egotistical.  But everyone else in the NBA, well come on – who wouldn’t have an affair with a pro-basketball player?

#8 Chris O’Dowd

Here is a real celebrity that is not only in one, particular position; nor that represents a group of people rather than just himself, who also happens to be objectively attractive and within a reasonable age range.  I love Chris O’Dowd – no idea why, except that whole accent thing really drives me nuts.  The other day I watched Bridesmaids and while I was relatively disappointed with the film, itself (so NOT the female version of The Hangover), on the whole his continued presence in the movie saved it for me.  Chris O’Dowd is to me what Mel Gibson is to our moms and Carry Grant was to our grandmas.

#9 Lars Von Trier

If you know anything about me, you know that I cannot stand Lars Von Trier movies.  He’s a complete misogynist, demeaning to women in every way possible, and somewhat talentless in his direction.  That said, he is weird.  Weird, weird, weird, faithful blog followers.  Something about that makes me wonder…

#10 Ross Perot

Is Ross Perot even still alive?  I can’t even attempt to explain this one.  A free B(itch)Log t-shirt to anyone that can…

Okay, so maybe most of the people listed here are dead or of intrigue to me for reasons no one will ever understand; or maybe inside I’m really a skank.  In any event, there’s my list and I’m sticking to it – Kardashian-style divorce filings or not.

Momma’s Boy

This image was posted on Facebook by one of my friends.  It was a repost, so I cannot fault her too much for it – but as soon as I read it, I knew I would have to blog about it.  Clearly, this was written by some fifty or sixty year old woman, likely going through the emotions behind an impending empty nest.  Possibly her grown man of a son has not left the nest, though; maybe he just returned home after a bad breakup.  I imagine the son of this mother to be in his thirties.  Possibly employed, very probably still breastfeeding every night before padding off to bed in his jam-jams.

So what is my problem with this, you faithful blog followers might ask?  A lot.  When I read the line at the bottom and considered some of my own experiences in life, I realized that this is a terribly biased and wholly judgmental thing to assert – and it uses the veil of not judging as a way to do so.  Let’s examine its assertions:

His Mom says:  He loves his mom

His Ex-Girlfriend says:  He’s a momma’s boy   

As with all things, I believe there is a fine line between going overboard with anything and being reasonable.  A card and call on Mother’s Day and birthdays?  Probably a good idea.  Dropping everything and flying across the country, using money you don’t have to do so, to take your mom out for Mother’s Day brunch when you just lost your job?  Probably a momma’s boy.  Making a phone call to see how mom is doing once a week?  A nice gesture.  Calling every day and never moving more than fifty miles away from mommy so that you can continue to come suckle on her teet whenever she rings the teet bell?  Over the top.

A few years back, I was dating a guy that invited me to go out to brunch with him and his mother on Mother’s Day.  His brother was going as well and we were all going to have a nice time.  After a phone call with mommy, though, there was a sudden change of heart and I was left at home to go find myself some Quizno’s while mommy had her special time with her boys.  I wouldn’t have minded being left behind on Mother’s Day if only I hadn’t actually already been invited.  A few days before then, I had gone along with them when they bought her a gift card to buy new sheets for her bed – a $100 gift card I might add (that, combined with the expensive brunch, is more money than I have spent in all 29 Mother’s Days since I was born).  A few days after I was left behind while they went out to brunch, I was at lunch with her and a group of their family and friends (a “lady’s lunch”) and she spent the entire time complaining that my boyfriend and his brother had not done enough for her for Mother’s Day that year.  I almost vomited up my entire lady’s lunch at the sound of her ungratefulness, as well as the realization that I was dating what could unambiguously be coined:  a momma’s boy.

His Mom says:  He is nice to his friends

His Ex-Girlfriend says:  He’s a doormat

Some time ago I had a male friend that I saw get walked all over time and again by his friends.  His mom always said “oh … isn’t Matthew so nice to his friends,” and yet I sat back and watched him get screwed (literally) countless times.  One time a friend asked to borrow money – this being a friend that had showed himself to lie, not pay back debts, and who used cocaine.  Matthew didn’t want to loan him any money because he knew it would be used for drugs, but his mom convinced him otherwise with a simple “oh … Matthew, you were always so nice to your friends before you started hanging out with girls” (whatever that meant..).  So he loaned the friend some money and two days later the guy was arrested for possession of cocaine.  Matthew never saw his money again.  As in the case above, there is a fine line between being nice to your friends and being a push over.  Generally it’s when adult children have no boundaries with their parents that they also have a similar lack of boundaries with friends, as well as work.  All people – men and women – should set a line and never cross it – with anyone; although, mothers often no longer teach this boundary setting because then their kids will set boundaries on them as well.

 His Mom says:  He’s in between jobs

His Ex-Girlfriend says:  He’s a bum

Do I even need to justify this one with a response?  As with a lot of helicopter parents that do not teach their kids any kind of responsibility, as well as with the situations of men sitting in their parents’ basements playing video games rather than getting a job, the “he’s in between jobs” is simply excusing the fact that your son is unemployed (many times by no fault of his own, many other times by much fault..)  Just because a person calls something other than what it is, or is equivocal enough to leave room for excuses, does not change the reality of the situation.

 His Mom says:  He likes to have fun

His Ex-Girlfriend says:  He’s a drunk

There is a kid that lives next door to my father, that graduated from high school in May.  Every day he roams out of the house around noon in his robe, where he sits on the front porch drinking beer until his parents get home from work (did I mention he is only eighteen?).  He does not go to school.  He is not looking for a job.  Three or four nights a week he disappears around eight in the evening and comes home the next morning, often still drunk or high from the previous night’s events.  His mom says “he likes to have fun” and that he is just taking a year off to explore his options – on their dime.  Need I say more?

 His Mom says:  He has a healthy appetite

His Ex-Girlfriend says:  He’s a pig

At the end of that little inspirational picture that my friend posted on her Facebook page this morning (pictured above), it says that “…truth is likely somewhere in between.”  This is the one example of those “perspectives,” though, that I would actually agree is likely a matter of the truth (of more cases than not) being somewhere in the middle.  If someone eats excessively and has undiagnosed or untreated health problems, or spends more time sitting on the couch shoving hotdogs down his face than actually moving around, then chances are he’s closer to being a pig.  But if he is physically fit, has no untreated health problems, and just eats big meals, then he maybe does just have a healthy appetite.

One thing to remember, though, is that unhealthy eating habits always catch up with you eventually.  Excusing porking down six whopper-sized burgers as a “healthy appetite” because your son doesn’t gain weight quickly (right now) is never okay.

His Mom says:  He’s a good son 

  His Ex-Girlfriend says:  He was a terrible boyfriend 

The bottom line is that if the guy really does treat you borderline-assholish to cow-tow to mommy, if he isn’t just nice but lets himself get pushed around, if he spends all his time on the couch rather than looking for a job and paying his own bills, and is drunk most days before three o’clock in the afternoon – saying “he was a terrible boyfriend” is probably much more accurate than saying he is a good son.  Ultimately, what love does more than “accepts and doesn’t judge” is allow bias to completely blind a person from seeing what is really going on right in front of their eyes.  One of a mother’s principle responsibilities to her son is not to excuse his bad behaviors, or enable him to be irresponsible; it is to teach him to be able to go out in the world as an adult and make it on his own.  To form lasting relationships.  To have the street smarts to not get screwed over.  To have the economic smarts to make wise decisions and to do everything he can to stay gainfully employed.  To have the emotional understanding and morality to do what is not only fiscally responsible, but morally right.  It is to teach someone to be an upstanding citizen in the world, who can survive without still having to thrive on mom’s milk.  Before teaching people that a negative or less-than-nice perspective of someone’s son is a bad thing, consider how well-adjusted in life and relationships he is outside of his mother’s arms.

Five Things She Says That Really REALLY Mean Something Else

You know why I don’t buy Cosmopolitan, Maxim, Vogue, or any other gender-specific magazines?  Because they always have those obnoxious “when she says she means…” or “when he does he really wants to…” segments, which are so ridiculous and cliche I just want to puke all over the magazine in anger.  Sometimes those types of articles can be funny, but usually they play on cliched generalizations and cultural stereotypes about whatever group they are talking about.

Well, as a woman, I can tell you that a lot of that crap is nothing more than … well, crap.  Especially the ones in Maxim and on those ridiculous “for men” sites online.  It’s crap, crap, crap – just more things that men want women to mean when they say something (because it is no secret that when a woman says one things she usually means another).

Here’s a little diddy I like to call “Five Things She Says That Really REALLY Mean Something Else.”  Do I think this way when I say these five things?  Not usually, although on occasion (particularly in the case of #4) I have been known to think more along these lines.  There are a lot of women who do, though, and so I think we should just lay it out there and get over it.  As soon as we do, I’m sure life will be a lot easier for everyone.  Right?

 

How To Tell If You’re Dating An [Expletive Deleted]

This isn’t just for women, because while some men can be real [expletive deleted]s, I’ve also met my fair share of women that could be described as such.  It doesn’t necessarily apply to only dating, either – it could be How To Tell If You’re Married To An [Expletive Deleted], How To Tell If You’re ‘Friends With Benefits’ With An [Expletive Deleted]; it could even be How To Tell If You’re Hopelessly Chasing After An [Expletive Deleted] … you get the point.

A few years ago, I was out to dinner and drinks with some friends and one of them had canceled at the last minute to go out with her boyfriend.  The group got into a huge conversation about the guy – his behaviors, how he treated our friend, and the like – and the consensus of the group was that she was still in her “[expletive deleted] phase.”  Women and men, alike, all go through it, unless they are (of course) an [expletive deleted], themselves.  Here’s a handy guide to the top three, unambiguous ways to know if you, yourself, are on the other end of an [expletive deleted] phase:

#1 Your Significant Other Constantly Puts People Down

There is a huge difference between constructive criticism and being blunt or honest, and just plain being an [expletive deleted].  A few months ago I was at a wedding with a group of our friends, and one of the attendees kept making derogatory remarks about the people there.  The rudeness had reached its absolute worst when he said (loudly) of one of the bridesmaids, “jeez, could tub-o block out the sun anymore, there?”  If the person you’re with crosses the line, time and again, with the comments he or she makes about other people, they’re an [expletive deleted].

#2 Your Significant Other Constantly Puts YOU Down

I’m not just talking about when your boyfriend or girlfriend puts down something you have done (although that is a definite sign of an [expletive deleted]).  I’m also going on to suggest that if they are constantly telling you to quiet down, stop talking, or that you are just, plain wrong, it’s very probable your significant other is an [expletive deleted].  Another sign of this is that your significant other always responds to your “did you know…” attempts at having a discussion with “yeah, I know about it already, old news.”  One of my friends right now (I hope she doesn’t read this!) is currently engaged to a guy that constantly tells her to stop talking.  It’s happened in groups, when it’s just us – everywhere.  If the person you’re with is continually talking down to you, chances are they’re an [expletive deleted].

#3 You Are OUT Of Your Significant Other’s Mind More Than You Are ON It

This is a big one.  Your boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife – whatever – thinks more about everything else than you.  This one is usually subtle.  Sometimes its masked as “busy at work” or “a lot of family things going on,” but over time (and especially as your relationship progresses), if you are in a relationship with someone that prioritizes all of their other relationships in front of you, they are very likely worth ditching.  One of my cousins (that I know isn’t reading this!) is married to a woman that is constantly giving reasons for her absence:  too crazy at work to call, too many family events to have time for just the two of them, too many other hobbies to even respond to emails.  For some reason he continues to tolerate it, after years of waiting for his wife to come around.  The bottom line, though, is that if you are in a relationship with someone that is always too busy to have you on their mind, they are most certainly an [expletive deleted].

There are a lot of other things that make a person an [expletive deleted].  Never doing nice things for their significant other, always acting like a cheapskate when it comes to romance, expecting you to sacrifice everything of yours for them, while giving nothing in return … the list goes on, but as it does gets a little more difficult to decipher whether it is a truly bad behavior, or circumstantial.  That’s what the top three, unambiguous ways to tell above are for:  all of them are the easiest, and universal, ways to delineate a true [expletive deleted].

If you recognize some of this in your own relationships, you should take a moment to pause and consider just what you actually get out of the relationship.  Chances are, it’s very little.  At the end of the day, life is just too damn short to deal with assholes.