Oh my Erin.  Since I bared witness to this event I feel the need to interject.  I sat next to you at the table while we watched what? About four or five brides-to-be dance around in their tacky outfits with their rolls of fat bouncing around like a kid on a trampoline.  What it comes down to is this…we are not “wide load” kinda girls.  I’d bet money that all of their fiancés are just as fat and ugly as they are.  Maybe I’m wrong…maybe they won over these amazingly rich and hot men with their “winning personalities” OR maybe they just settled.  A friend of mine, who recently moved in with her boyfriend, was telling me how she has had to sacrifice certain things that she always thought she would want to be in her current relationship and she was ok with that.  She is ok with that because ultimately she knows that her boyfriend is the kind of man she will marry and he truly does care for her.  That means more to her than stereotypical good looks or a great job.  Maybe it’s us?  Maybe we’re NOT ready to settle and not at that point.  And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.  Yes, we are all attractive, smart, fun women and honestly- any guy would be LUCKY to date any of us.  I truly believe that will all my heart.  Yes, we all have our flaws…but who doesn’t?  I’m on a big empowerment kick right now after a weekend of your birthday fun and I refuse to let you (or anyone else) get down on yourself for not settling.  My point is that there is a time and a place for settling and this isn’t it.  My friend I mention above settled slightly because her priorities changed…this is different than saying “well, I mean…he does drink too much and he does have a dead-end job…but he’s really hot and he has good manners.”  Not the same.  Aim high.  I always aim for 10s…but to me, a 10 is an entire package between looks, intelligence and personality.  If they don’t have a good mix of the three, well then they simply can’t BE a 10.  Beep…Beep…Beep to THAT, bitch.

p.s. – while typing up this post, I’ve been simultaneously having a sexual text conversation with Casper the friendly ghost…so really, what the fuck do I know?

Okay, sorry Claire. Don’t hate me for this one.  I had a short-lived text message sex situation with a certain sweaty mechanic who has made me want to stab my own eyes out for the past three years that I’ve known him/wanted to lick the bottom of his shoes (or his chest…whichever).  It started this past March, when he awkwardly admitted that he had had feelings for me for the previous two years that we had known each other, depsite his girlfriend (and my ex boyfriend who I had just broken up with two months prior).  So since we both had the hots for one another but couldn’t do much about it because of the she-devil he refuses to break up with, we spent a lovely evening sending each other sexy and even better, skanky, texts while he was at a wedding.  It was the red-headed spawn of Satan’s friend who was marrying her baby daddy, and since she was a bridesmaid, my beefy mechanic had to sit at a table with the other leftovers (most of whom didn’t speak English).  So with his sunglasses on, he sat at the table for 4 hours and texted me his dirtiest thoughts.  The whole time he was looking up and nodding or winking at the spawn to keep her satisfied so that she wouldn’t go over and bother him.  Eventually his battery died and that was the end of that.  Until work the next day …