Alexis has some thoughts to share.

My dear friend (and former roommate, so we have been through the worst together) friend, Alexis, had a little something she wanted to get off her chest this evening, and I thought - Hey! I have this new, nifty, super-duper BLOG that's the perfect platform to rant and rave! - so I invited her to be a "guest blogger." I just like saying I have a "guest blogger"...hee hee. Without further ado, "Lexy's Rant":

Theory: Every guy thinks that every girl automatically wants to be his girlfriend.

You’ve suffered through the awkwardness of the first date, more comfortably attended a movie together (but still in that nervous our-arms-are-touching-on the-armrest sort of way) for a second date, and are beginning to feel pretty relaxed when he’s planning the next date before the one you’re on has even ended.

Flash forward.

“So, are we still on for tonight?” you ask.

Pause. Still pausing. Okay, this is a really long “something isn’t as peachy as I thought it was” pause.

“Well, here’s the thing…”

Damn it. And you thought this one was different.

“I just need to take some space for myself right now.”

Space? You asked me to go on this date, remember?

“I’m not sure if I’m ready for this…”

Ready? Do you need more time to shave, or pick out a belt to match those pleated corduroy pants that I know from our previous two dates you’re going to wear?

“I just don’t want either of us to get hurt.”

Unless you were concerned with a crab-shell-cracker injury at the “fancy” Red Lobster dinner you’re taking me to, then I have no idea what you are talking about.

“I just need some time to think about us.”

Us? When did we become an “us”? And do I still get dinner? Because the cheddar biscuits are the only reason I agreed to go to that pseudo-fancy, one-step-above the Olive Garden fish house.



Why is it that every guy thinks that every girl he meets automatically wants to be his girlfriend? Because here’s the thing- we don’t. I just thought we were going to Red Lobster, but apparently, to him a shrimp cocktail means yours is the only tail he will be getting now that you’re dining together.

Contrary to popular (male) belief, we’re not all interested in clinging to your sculpted biceps, staring down every girl who happens to glance in your direction, screaming “That’s my man, biatch!” with only our eyes. We really don’t want to spend every free moment of our time with you, talking about shopping, our friends, and oh God, feelings. But why are guys thinking, “I see where this is going, and I’d better stop the Girlfriend Express before this gets out of hand?”

Sure, there are a few ladies out there who hunt for boyfriends like they are that fat-free, sugar-free chocolate dessert that actually tastes good (I mean, you know it’s out there, you just have to find it, and cling to it for dear life because that’s the best damn dessert you’re ever gonna find). But overall, most of us are just looking for a cute guy to call up and take us to dinner and a movie on Saturday night.

Let’s face it; to most women men aren’t some terrified prey we stalk as if we are asp-like predators looking to suffocate and eat them. Men are more like that slightly worn pair of Marc Jacobs Mary Janes you bought at Buffalo for fifty bucks. They are perfect for dinner on a Friday night, drinks on Saturday night, and maybe around the house in the middle of the afternoon when you just need to feel pretty. But you’re not going to wear them everyday; you wouldn’t even want to wear them everyday. They don’t go with every outfit you own, they are used (that’s why they were such a bargain), and you still have plenty of other shoes you love to wear.

But here’s the thing. The shoes don’t ask you for space if you wear them to dinner on Friday and the bar on Saturday. They’d even let you wear them to work on Monday if you wanted to.

Lesson: Always pick your Marc Jacobs over a date with any Mark or Jacob, because instead of looking to be the girlfriend, you just want to look cute in your Mary Janes.