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You Made Me Like This!: Confessions of Ex Girlfriends

1 Mar

So I was thinking of making Fridays more interesting by compiling psycho ex stories. Even though the title is “Confessions of Ex Girlfriends”, guys can feel free to send their psycho ex stories in as well. If you have something you need to get off your chest, feel free to send your story to bcmollysaidso@gmail.com, and don’t worry – 10% anonymous. And we don’t judge you (yes we will).

Here are the *brave women who have decided to share their confessions with you, the internet:

*anonymous

shovel

Busted

Senior year I was dating Guy #1 but was secretly hooking up with/dating Guy #2 who was like 3 year younger, but he was hot and a quarterback…

So I was drinking gin and juice (out of an extra larger McDonald’s cup) at Cavanaugh field (in North Quincy)  and hanging out with Guy#2. I got white girl wasted, legit couldn’t drive my car, etc. So Guy #2 drives my car to my house and to my surprise Guy #1 is there.  I’m shitfaced and cheating so my logical thought was to run into my house and take a shower fully clothed. Little did I know Guy #1 was outside chasing Guy #2 in circles around my car while my little sisters watched from my porch. Oops.

Sign Language, Violence  & All Around Bad Decisions On A Humid Day At The Marina

It was a humid summer day at the Marina. All was fine And dandy as I received numerous free shots at roughly 2pm at Ocean Club. Leaving the company I was with (bad idea) I drove down Harvard street while trying to maneuver my cheesy pop tunes blasting through my iPod. Needless to say I drilled the curb and got a vicious flat tire. Rather then help me out, my man was with another chick at the time. Upon receiving this information my mind began to wander: Revenge? Pain? What type of action should I take to harm this ass wipe? Two friends came to the rescue while a deaf man walking down the street changed my tire. I Googled thank you in sign language for his good deed. First stop – a random shed behind the hotel on Morrissey where I find a shovel. Proceed to Columbia Road where I spotted the shit stained vehicle my man drove. Three whacks with the shovel and the windshield was toast. I huddled next to a parked car and hopped into my getaway car like a straight ninja. The end.

(Note: BecauseMollySaidSo.com does not condone drinking and driving or malicious destruction of property.)

Break & Enter At Your Own Risk

Okay, so broke up with my ex boyfriend of 2 years. We owned a house together, so I moved out. He changed the locks. Two months later he is dating a new girl. One day a friend of mine and I were out and did a drive by of the house …. no one was home. We decided to see if my keys would still work to get some of my stuff that was still there. Keys didn’t work so we broke in through the open kitchen window. Upon going through the house I find she has pretty much moved into my house, her stuff was everywhere. Not to mention used condom wrappers on the night stand and a used pregnancy test in the trash. I find the digital camera my ex had gotten me for my birthday a few months before on his side of the bed. I turn it on and what do I find …. naked pictures of the new girlfriend!  So I took the camera and other stuff of mine in the house. Uploaded the nude pictures and saved them to my computer … may or may not have posted them to Facebook and tagged him in them :)

(Note: BecauseMollySaidSo.com does not condone breaking and entering…or really anything on this entire blog post at this point.)

A Friendly Game of Air Hockey

Once my ex was missing for 3 days, leaving me with a baby and no food or diapers. When his friend dropped him off, shitfaced, I smiled and thanked him. After his friend had left, I turned around and hauled off an upper right punch with all my might and hit him so hard in the eye that his thick glasses were broken and he had a shiner that could be seen from the next galaxy. He landed on an air hockey game, causing further damage. Out of work 2 weeks. He had a very difficult prescription for glasses, and in those days you had to wait for a lab to make them for you.

It was worth it.

Ass Kicked By A Girl

Last year at some point I met up with my ex for a late night. Obviously both of us were lonely, drunk… you know: your typical weekend night shenanigans that end up with you on your bedroom floor the next day hating yourself.

Well, after a little, how should I phrase it, “pillow fight” he got very blunt and says “You can leave now”… What? No recovery time? I’m exhausted, drunk (on the verge of feeling hungover) and you want me to leave???

I got so pissed/ angry/ hurt (cause hey- I can dream that he might change his ways and sweep me off my feet) that I punched him square in his face, knocking off his glasses. I’m talking straight haymaker, right hook, Mike tyson style punch. So while he was keeled over, holding his face for dear life, I walked off, slammed the front door of his apartment and proceeded to get into my car.

“Well look here!” I said to myself as I stared at his beautiful chromed out black jeep Cherokee and before you know it I was giggling to myself as I took my car keys and proceeded to frolic around his car keying the crap out of it.

Then, I got into my car, texted him “you got a nice car there”, drove off and waited a few minutes and drove by his house again. I beeped and waved as W saw him, dumfounded, staring at his beloved car in the middle of a school parking lot.

Damn it feels good to be a gangsta.
Mama Knows Best

This story isn’t about me, but it’s about my mom in the 80′s. My mom is a pure-bred Quincy girl. She was the crazy, loud, funny, tough chick. She had this boyfriend back in her senior year of high school and suspected him of cheating on her. For the next couple weeks her and her best friend K would follow him home in K’s dad’s car. Finally one night they saw him take another girl in the house. The two of them climbed up a tree next to his house and slid in the open window, to find him banging this other chick. K started beating the shit out of this girl (who was stark naked) while my mom did the same to her now-ex boyfriend.

Car Trouble

I was dating a kid who cheated on me with a friend of mine. One night I saw her out at a bar. I went out in the parking lot and saw her car and wanted to key it or slash the tires … but a guy friend I was with told me to put oil in her gas tank. He just so happened to have a bottle of oil in his truck.  I made sure to put every last drop of oil in the bitch’s gas tank. Come to find out it ruined her entire car,  and they had to replace the entire engine and fuel lines :)

Taking The IOU To A Whole New Level

First off, Quincy guys are nuts too. Like, psycho. I kicked out a guy who had been living with me because he stole money from me. That night he slept on one of our mutual friends couches. When that friend came home from work the next day my ex was gone, and so was 200 bucks out of his undies drawer. The psycho part is that my ex thought he was being courteous by leaving an “IOU” except it wasn’t an IOU, it was a “Victoria owes you”. Yup, my ex wrote a note saying that I had ruined his life, so it was my fault that he needed the dough and I will pay him back. Luckily our friend found this ridiculous and didn’t come after me with a baseball bat and a horses head which is what I’m pretty sure my ex wanted.

Anddddd Saved The Most Psychotic For Last…

I had an old friend who was in the most psycho relationship going. The guy was a hard core junkie, and he beat the crap out of her all the time.   There was no trust on either part (nor was the trust really deserved because they were both crazy train and cheating on the other left and right).   So, one day, I get a call from the friend saying that she had enough of her man, and she put windshield washer fluid in his blue Gatorade before he went to work.   She asked me what I think she should do, should she tell him or just leave it
be.   He didn’t die, so I don’t know what the hell she did.

A few weeks later, I wake up to texted pics of what appears to be a naked 14 year old girl from a number I don’t recognize.  I start deleting, deleting, deleting thinking good lord some one’s framing me or something for child porn.  I was a step away from calling the cops on the psycho sending the texts when my cell rings from that old friend.   Before I can even begin to tell her about the craziness, she goes, can you believe that my boyfriend had these pics of this little girl on his phone?   He gave her drugs and had sex with her and took these pictures.   She goes on to say, I’m going to send them to her parents, but i want you to keep a copy for safe keeping.   I was like what?  No, i can’t keep these pictures, this is crazy.   You should call the cops on him.  She goes, no the girl’s 18.  She wouldn’t call, instead she had them printed off, and started a fight with him one night, and kept throwing different copies of the pics at him.  He ended up beating the crap out of her, their neighbors called the cops, and she climbed out of the window to get away from him, and basically landed at the cops feet.   The boyfriend was pulling at her hair so hard to pull her back into the apartment, he pulled out a chunk of her hair and scalp, that the cop found in the apartment.   He got arrested, somehow the child porn wasn’t discovered, and two weeks later they got back together- like everything was fine.  Then he bought her plastic surgery.

Another time, she went through his car looking for signs of cheating. She found genital wart cream instead. So, to get back with him, she sent out a mass text to all his and our friends letting us know that
he had genital warts.   I’m really not sure what she thought she was accomplishing by this because everyone assumed she had them too.   I’m just glad she wasn’t on Facebook!

Only in Quincy!

Well, now that I’ve lost in my faith in humanity, let’s give a hell yeah for the weekend! Hellllll yeaaahhhhhhh!

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More Dealbreakers

18 Jan

Last year I wrote a blog about dealbreakers and today I have something to add to the list. It came up when I was listening to a friend of mine tell a story last night. She met a guy she was kind of into and they started casually talking on the phone and texting. He is an Irish guy with a brogue which she said makes him even funnier. Things in their conversation were normal and she was feeling pretty good about him, though wasn’t too serious about him either. She basically just wants to enjoy herself. So she spent one night this week chatting with him via text and was getting a kick out of this dude when suddenly the dude pulls a move that is a game changer. Out of nowhere he sent her this picture:

hairShe looked at her phone with a disgusted expression on her face, totally thrown for a loop. What the F is that? It’s not even funny. What does that have to do with anything they were just talking about? Why would he think that’s okay? Is this guy a sex offender? Is he a nympho? What is going on? She stares at her phone, dumbfounded probably waiting for him to send another text asking her to request him on Myspace (since everyone knows that unless you are an internet rapper, Myspace is for serial killers).  Since she didn’t know what to say after this picture, she sent him the see no evil monkey emoji. She then asked “why?”, and he just said it was funny and she should like it. She asked him why in the world she would like that? There was nothing sexual being spoken about. This picture is creepy and had just killed their conversation for the night.

So there you have it, another dealbreaker: Sending disturbing sexual pictures about hair pulling with the word “preschoolers” in it to a girl you only JUST met. Or any sexual pictures that are not funny by any means totally out of nowhere. No brogue on this planet could take away the awkwardness that is this picture. Chivalry is dead and the game is over, bro.

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Farewell to Ex Boyfriends

12 Dec

So ever since I got engaged, I’ve been thinking every day how lucky I am to have found someone who is not a total douche. Who treats me nicely, makes me laugh, isn’t a raging drunk or a deadbeat, and brings out the best in me, and all that corny stuff. It’s not often that people find someone who they can totally be themselves around, and I did and I am grateful as fuck. He makes some of the people I’ve ever dated look like Spencer Pratt. I don’t like to dwell on the past, so I’d like to dedicate this blog entry to saying farewell to the ex’s. I guess I don’t need the closure, I’ve had it since the day the relationships ended, but I think it will be blog gold so fuck it, I’ll write it anyways. They missed out on a lifetime of my fabulousness, and I ain’t missin’ out on SHIT. There aren’t many, so this shouldn’t be too long…

Ex #1: Thanks for taking me to your Bar Mitzfah. It was the social event of the 8th grade. Sorry for breaking up with you for that fucktard Ex #2!

Ex #2: Lucky for you this was long ago enough that I harbor no resentment. But you’ll get blogged anyways because you broke up with me on Saint Patrick’s Day. That’s one of my favorite days of the year and you ruined it. You once got my birthday gift from C-V-fucking-S. Another day ruined. You caused so many fights between me and my girlfriends, and you made me look as pathetic as Chelsea from Teen Mom, sans Aubrey, for staying with you.  I hated your ugly orange backpack. You called yourself my “sugar daddy “on my Central yearbook, which has tainted my yearbook forever and made me nauseous whenever I open it, as it brings me back to when I was an idiot.  Freshman year I spent all of my babysitting money for the week  on an Abercrombie and Fitch sweatshirt for you for Christmas and the first one who wore it was not you, but a curly-haired blonde girl from gym class who had a crush on you. A & F was expensive for a 16 year old girl who makes $40 a week from babysitting. Speaking of babysitting, you and your friends got me fired from my babysitting job for looking at porn on the family’s computer when I left the room. Now that blonde girl who wore the sweatshirt in gym class is my bridesmaid, and we laugh about that story, so at least there is that.

Ex #3: This only lasted a month. You are spared.

Ex #4: I dated you for about 4 years, and I can’t remember you ever not being a total psycho. You once got so drunk at an Ugly Sweater Party that you yelled at my friend thinking she was me. She’s Chinese. You made me truly believe for a time period that every time a guy gives a girl flowers, he has done something very wrong the night before. For our anniversary, which was the night after the Ugly Sweater Party, you brought me to Top of the Hub, knowing I have an insane fear of heights (or maybe you didn’t know, because you don’t listen). I had to bail you out of the drunk tank between the hours of 2am and 5am at least 17 times throughout our relationship. You cheated 5 billion times, and when I finally dumped you and moved on a year after being single, you told everyone who would listen that I left you for someone else. You also took back the jewelery you had given me because you are cheap scum. You were never a victim, but a lying, cheating, douche who led a double life and wore Sean John. When you got a new girlfriend, and decided you wanted to be friends with me, I invited you both to a cookout as a peace offering, but you allowed this new girl to talk crap and try to make up for it by bringing Stop and Shop hotdogs. Then you flipped on me because I blogged about it. Well guess what? I blog what I want. You are a disrespectful prick who takes no self responsibility. But regardless of all that, thank you for being the opposite of Prince Charming, so I could figure out what I didn’t want in a guy.

In closing, I hope you burn in hell, and I hope your life is filled with disappointment. Just kidding. I wish that on no one. And ex #1 and #3 were pretty harmless. But I do wish  Ex#4 will look like the Double Rainbow Guy by age 30. Google him for a visual.

(Disclaimer: This blog is meant to be taken in good fun – besides Ex #4…fuck him and his cheap franks. Anyone else that was referenced are people I either don’t know anymore, and Ex #3 I am actually friends with. Ex #1 and #2 were so long ago, that I’m sure they are totally different people at this point.  All in all I hope everyone took this in good fun, because that’s all  it is meant for. Hope I didn’t offend anyone other than Ex #4 and all parties affiliated with the hotdog incident.)

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The Drive By

6 Dec

One of the most infamous girl moves: The Drive By. You know you’ve done it. Driven by the house of the guy you like with one of your girlfriends. Or alone. Sometimes, when bitter, you might even egg said house as you drive on by. Or if you’re like me, chuck rubber dick erasers from Amazing Adult Video Express on his front porch. Perhaps while screaming something insane: “EAT DOG FOOD AND DIEEEEEEEEEE MOTHER FUCKER!!!”, or something more simple and obscure like “KAAARRRMMMAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”, etc. If he happens to be walking to or from his car as you are driving by you have to come up with a quick excuse as you are screeching your hoopty to a hault, “Oh, hey! You live here?! That’s SO funny! I was just going to the ATM 29 miles up the street from here! SMALL WORLD!!!!”. But really. Come on, it’s messed up when a guy calls us psychotic, but deep down, we all are a little bit psycho. We know it. And that’s okay. At least we aren’t serial killers, like men are. We are cute psychos! As long as no one sustains a permanent injury, crazy can be funny. I have a friend who used to do drive by’s on a guy she was seeing who wouldn’t get serious enough with her to be an official “boyfriend”. We would get coffees, then just drive around the Boston area aimlessly. She’d weave in and out of different sections of the city, go in crazy directions, just not even thinking about her destination as she chatted about how she stuck his toothbrush in the toilet the last time she saw him because he was dead to her and she didn’t even care about him anymore. No matter which street we went down, or how far we were, it always led to this guy’s street. It wasn’t even her fault, it’s just instinct. And then the speed would pick up. And next thing I knew, we were drive by’ing this dude’s place. Adrenaline pumpin’, ice in our coffees rattling when we went over potholes. And then it was over. After the creeping, we would analyze where he could be if his car wasn’t parked outside. Crazy? Yes. But when you’re single and his Facebook is private, you do what you can to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Girls are the best at creepin’. They will break down fuckin’ firewalls to get the information they need. Kind of ironic that females don’t want to send a text first, but will stalk a guy’s whole life by driving his house, no?

I don’t care who you are. ALL FEMALES HAVE DONE A DRIVE BY. And I’m confident enough to say that all females have done at least 1,976 drive by’s by age 19. DON’T LIE. Own the insanity. Because no matter what psychotic antics us females have gotten into throughout our lives, at least we don’t do the weirdo/sadist shit that men partake in. Jeffrey Dahmer. Chris Brown. Elf on the Shelf.

Note: One of my friends actually had a guy tell her to “eat dog food and die” after having a falling out. In the off chance that he is reading this, thanks for the inspiration…you fucking psycho.

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Match.com Gone Wrong

4 Dec

Match.com is a great way to meet new people, and can create some lasting connections. BUT we all hear those crazzzyyy stories about online dating that make us less envious of the fun that singles are having. This is one of them. A girl from Southie sent me some screenshots of a guy who got her email address off of Match and starting harassing her. It’s pretty confusing, and long, and I really don’t get it, but it was entertaining nonetheless. So if you have any Match.com horror stories to share, send them my way for a new category entitled “Match.com Gone Wrong”.

(Note: Click each image to enlarge, it may be too small to read on a phone.)

match1match2match3match4

Like…what????????

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Best Congratulatory Letter I’ve Received Thus Far.

27 Nov

I received a lot of congratulatory cards after I got engaged. But this letter from my neighbor, which came packaged along with a wine glass, was my favorite:

Thanks, Val!

 

 

 

 

(Note: In case the humor was lost on anyone: Val has been my neighbor since I moved to Quincy. She’s the nicest woman and is totally not serious. Don’t worry, this was NOT a “mean” letter. Val’s hilarious.)

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My Thoughts on MTV’s New Show ‘Catfish’

13 Nov

SPOILER ALERT: If you plan on watching the first episode of Catfish, don’t read this!

After an hour of dumbing myself down by watching Teen Mom 2 last night, I decided to further my loss of brain cells by leaving MTV on. Thank God I did, because this new show ‘Catfish‘ is reality TV GOLD. Had me on the edge of my bed the entire episode. It’s basically about people who met their significant other online, and are followed by camera crews during their first real life encounter. The first episode follows this chick named Sunny who firmly believes that her boyfriend, Jamison, is a male model who in his spare time holds cue cards for the Chelsea Lately show while studying to be an anesthesiologist online. Yes, studying to be an anesthesiologist online.  OH, and all three of Jamison’s sister died in a crash. The show’s creator, some tool named Nev, investigates Jamison before bringing Sunny to meet her boo for the first time. Upon digging, Nev finds out that not only is there no one named Jamison who works on Chelsea Lately, but Chelsea Lately also has no cue cards. Despite hearing this, Sunny is still 100% that Jamison is who he says he is, thus beginning her journey to meet her online lover. Perhaps the saddest moment of this episode occurred when Sunny is getting all dolled up right before meeting ‘Jamison’. Poor thing. She was so excited…

When Sunny and the camera crew get to the place that is supposedly Jamison’s house, Sunny is already confused. They knock a few times and are about to retreat before someone finally opens the door. I died when ‘Jamison’ is revealed. Because Jamison is a fucking 18 year old, frizzy-haired lesbian named Chelsea who wears the same blue t-shirt every day of filming. Sunny is crushed and wants to fist fight Chelsea, but let’s face it, Sunny would have gotten her ass beat. So at this point, everyone is confused. Nev gives Sunny a day to cool down, then brings her back to confront Chelsea. When Sunny asks Chelsea why she had duped her into thinking she was a male model named Jamison, Chelsea explains her actions by stating that she had been bullied. Like…what? So you get bullied, then trick a heterosexual girl on the internet into thinking you’re a male model who works for Chelsea Handler and is studying to be an anesthesiologist online. Makes so much sense, right?

Anyways, Sunny ends up accepting Chelsea’s apology and they remain in contact. I read that in the unaired footage, they all go out for icecream after the taping. How weird is that? Like, I would be bullshit if I were Sunny. I wouldn’t want to hangout with some internet weirdo who I’d been tricked into sexting. Chelsea probably has naked pictures of Sunny. You and I both know that. Weirdest shit I’ve ever heard. Then again, how much of reality TV is even reality? Either way, this show is gold when it comes to mindless entertainment.

Here’s a mindfuck for you:

Imagine you are on the show Catfish, trying to meet with someone you met online for the first time. Nev and his camera crew bring you to a run down apartment in Germantown. You knock on the door nervously. A fat, 63 year old, balding man opens the door. He is sweating and smells of Hamburger Helper and urine. There is a ferret on his shoulder. He is sporting a BUM Equipment sweatshirt that is two sizes too small for him, and has holes all over it. He reaches out and tries to shake your hand, while introducing himself as “Dave”. Nev turns to you, camera in your fucking face, and tells you “You have finally met Because Molly Said So face to face, how do you feel?”

You just never know when it comes to cyber space.

 

Kudos MTV.

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Engaged

5 Nov

So from this title alone, you now know that I got engaged…’n shit. I have told the story 500 times and it’s not even noon yet, so I figured the best thing to do is blog the story.

Sunday morning started out like any other Sunday morning in the life of a Molly: hungover. So I slept through it, then got breakfast with Ryan and Carney (Barney). Ryan and Barney had made plans to go to a friend’s house to watch football after breakfast. Ryan said he’d hang out with me later because I didn’t feel like pretending to be interested in football. I went home, took a nap nap, then woke up and it was dark out. I was pissed because I thought it was later than it was and I hate sleeping through the day. I realized it was only 5pm. F you daylight savings. I call Ryan and ask where he is. He is still watching football and said he’d be home at 7. I get pissed because I hate being alone for too long, as I’m kind of a psycho. I am so bored that I start to watch “We Bought A Zoo” (I know). He texts me that we will go to dinner to make up for him being late. He gets home and I am on the couch crying because pretty much every movie ever created makes me cry. He makes fun of me. He says he wants to go to Charley’s on Newbury Street for dinner (note that this is where we had our first date). I’m annoyed because I’m starving and want to go somewhere closer, and also because I am somewhat of a whiny little biatch. He refuses and says he’s craving lobster ravioli from Charley’s. He gets ready, I scrub it out because I’m overtired and hungry and lazy. I drive to the Boston Common garage and park. We start walking through the Common, and make our way through the Public Garden. Everyone has been asking me if I was suspicious because we walked the more romantic way to Newbury Street to the restaurant where we had our first date. I was not suspicious, as we go to Charley’s often enough that it was not questionable, and the parking thing was not strange either, as we always park in garages because I cry and throw tantrums when I try to parallel park (I had a parallel parking incident back in 2005 that involved Nantasket Beach, beer cans, and people standing in line for icecream laughing at me, so I am traumatized).

ANYWAYS, we get to the Public Garden. I say “Let’s take a picture!”. He agrees, we take one, he comments on how white I am. I agree with him because I am pretty white. We laugh at my expense. We get halfway through and he says “I have something for you”. He pulls out a box. I freeze. He opens the box and pulls out a pearl necklace. On the inside I am screaming “WHY WOULD YOU SPEND MONEY ON THIS WHEN IT SHOULD GO TO MY DIAMOND!?”. Got over that because the necklace IS beautiful. I ask “Why did you buy me this?”, as there is no occasion for it. He said he bought it because he knows I usually borrow my mom’s pearls and don’t have any myself. He then suggests we take a picture with the necklace on. When we are done taking the picture, I of course examine it like every girl who has just taken a picture does. Upon inspecting the picture, I notice that Ryan is holding another box next to my head. I look up from my Iphone for once in my life in a moment of confusion. And when I look up, I notice that Ryan is kneeling. So I look down. Then I  start sobbing. Instead of saying “YES!”, I called my mom and told her that we are officially engaged. I was too excited to go to dinner at this point, so we headed back to the car and headed to my house. My parents were waiting at home with a bottle of champagne. Since the only alcohol my parents ever keep in stock is Sutter Home and Miller High Life, I figured that Ryan must have asked my father for permission. Turns out he had asked my dad while I was napping, so my parents had a chance to run out for some bubbly. Being the classy man that he is, my father cheers with a Budweiser.

Well, these paragraphs are getting really long, and my mind is not clear so I think I’d be more productive on Pinterest pinning wedding crap to my boards than blogging today. Thanks for all the love and I promise I’ll be back when I am not in shock anymore. Maybe tonight or tomorrow. My dad sent me a good political blog for tomorrow. Now that I can refer anyone else who asks me for the details to this blog, I have some pinning to do…

XOXO

The Happiest Girl in Quincy/America/probably the world.

PS: Good thing we didn’t go to Charley’s. It fucking closed in September!

If you love our engagement story and would like to help make my wedding a little less expensive for me, a broke ass college graduate who works 2 jobs to afford her one bedroom Quincy apartment, then please vote for me in the wedding story contest I am participating in! Just click this link:wedding contest!

Then ‘like’ David’s Bridal on Facebook and accept the Offerpop app (the app is nothing, just makes sure I am not cheating by making multiple Facebook accounts to vote).

Please vote once a day (every 24 hours EXACTLY or your vote will NOT count) until January 30th, 2013! Thanks so much for your support! =)

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Advice On How To Get Over Your “Soulmate”.

22 Oct

Hi Molly,

I’m 16 and just got broken up with by a guy who I am still so in love with. We were together for 8 months. I know that I shouldn’t love this guy, he’s kind of an asshole, he hates my friends, he cheated on me twice, and sometimes he would “forget to call” when we had plans. But I can’t help who I love and I feel like this guy is my soul mate. He is the only one who can make me laugh and I can’t see myself with anyone else. He broke up with me 2 weeks ago but still calls me to hangout sometimes, and when I did hangout with him we hooked up. What should I do to either get him back or get over him? I’m scared he’s going to find someone else. Please don’t be mean, I know I’m being dumb!

-Sad

Dear Sad,

Don’t be sad. You are not alone. Most girls get psycho about one guy when they are young. There’s actually a rule that I made up right now that gives every female the right act completely irrationally with ONE guy and get away with it. But there are some guidelines to that rule. First, you can only be irrational for so long. How long are you in the mood to be treated like shit? Because the longer you put up with it, the longer you’ll feel like shit. Sex & The City states that it takes half the total time you spent with someone to get over them.  That means you could be over this guy in 4 months.

The second guideline is that you are only allowed to bitch to your friends about it for a specified amount of hours. Trust me, they get sick of hearing it and you would, too. Girlfriends are there to listen and give you the best advice they can, but don’t abuse it by only talking about yourself for a year. Your friends are also there as a distraction from the hurt you are feeling. Use your time with them to laugh and forget. Perhaps light this guy’s house up with eggs. Then take a picture of it and email it to me, and we will laugh VIA email. Actually, don’t do that.

Third guideline says that once you’ve dated one bad guy, you are no longer excused from doing so again. Everybody gets one. Then it gets annoying REAL fast and no one will want to hear it and you’ll lose all wisdom credibility. That’s right, you won’t be able to tweet any wisdom. Live and learn, biatch.

Seriously, this guy sounds like a dick. He cheated on you TWICE. And he hates your friends, which is the biggest red flag known to girl. I know it feels like the end of the world right now, but you will laugh about it as soon as you’re over him. You’re only 16. When I was 15-16 I dated some kid who treated me like shit. I put up with it for so long that by the time I was a senior, I had wasted most of high school being hurt over him. Looking back, there was NOTHING about him that was worth that. I feel like I was inhaling toxic fumes to make me even remotely interested in this kid. I was smitten because he was my first “real” boyfriend (I thought “real” back then, but now I know it was not real…it was stupid). I don’t want to minimize your feelings by only saying “get over it, you’ll laugh later on”. I know that it’s true, but it’s not what you want to hear. Instead I will tell you what you should (or should not) do to be proactive about the situation: do not answer his calls. Put control back in your hands. Ignore him, delete him from your phone, block him from calling you or change your number. Keep yourself busy and just hangout with friends as much as possible. Create memories with people who are worth your time. Don’t waste the best years you’ll ever have on some chump that the future you wouldn’t give a second thought if he brushed up against you in line at a bar.

Oh, and just because someone makes you laugh, doesn’t mean they’re your soul mate. Have you ever stopped yourself mid laugh to ask yourself if you’re fake laughing? If you have, that means you’re fake laughing.

Hope this helps,

Molly

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Rule Number 5,973 of Dating: Fuck off, Bro.

15 Oct

I was perusing the Italian food section at Stop and Shop yesterday. Newport Avenue, as I have PTSD from working at the Southern Artery Stoppy in high school. You know, real housewife of Quincy errands. I typically text while carting, and stopped dead center in the aisle when I got a text from one of my girlfriends (she is coincidentally the same one who writes the Second Wives Club blogs). The text was in the form of screenshots from some guy that she met at the Seaport (click on the images if they are too small to read):


I died laughing for a good 30 seconds. That doesn’t seem like a long time, but it is when you’re blocking people from the Boboli at Stoppy on a Sunday. Un-fucking-real. What doesn’t this guy get?! She responds once to politely say she’s not interested, and he goes psychotic. Not to mention these texts were sent after she ignored 5 of his calls and 5 of his voicemail messages. Went totally over his head. Besides the “capisce?” at the end, my favorite part of this whole thing is when he basically says that if she changes her mind, and he is still single, that he would still consider taking her out. Like, what?! Are you stupid?! She JUST turned YOU down! Not the other way around, bro. Like you said, balls in her court. And she shot that ball in the face with a machine gun before you made it to text #17. Which leads me to rule number 5,974 of dating: NEVER refer to a female as “hotpants”. Ever.

At least he had the common courtesy to delete her from his phone. I was starting to  think he might be a serial killer or something. Tactless.

Got funny/insane dating stories? As a boring person who is in a perfectly healthy serious relationship, I love to hear awkward date stories. Send them to me at becausemollysaidso@hotmail.com!

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