excuses, excuses, excuses...

he's just not that into you if he's doing the following:

• not calling you
• not dating you
• not having sex with you
• having sex with other people
• disappearing on you

i don't know why D had to buy a fucking book to realize this, but hey, as long as she got it, we're cool...

*K*

i get it, ok? i do. i've made excuses for men because i've desperately wanted one in my life to love me, to care about me, to make me feel complete. i truly thought that a man could fill a void in me... well, he literally can, but i'm not referring to knocking boots, folks.

so, after many unsuccessful dates, "perfect" guys doing 180s and countless excuses made for these douche bags, i had to remind my self of the following:

"Excuses are monuments of nothingness.

They build bridges to nowhere.

Those who use this tool of incompetence,

seldom become anything but nothing at all."

i meditated on this for a long time. an excuse is just a big fanciful explanation for why someone wasn't all that into me. i had put them atop a pedestal of pretexts - "he's just too busy for me right now," "he's recovering from his break-up," "he doesn't want to settle down right now," "blah blah blah" - and once i stopped making excuses, the tower crumbled, and the poor guys plummeted into non-existence. neat little trick, huh?

making excuses never got me anywhere with these men except for heartbroken, teary-eyed, and with no urge to eat for days. i was a fool for listening to their sappy stories and an even bigger fool for believing them. and i refuse to be a court jester any longer.

i've been wasting these good looks and quick wit on these jerks for far too long. so after much research, and Katya's low tolerance for bullshit, i've come up with solutions for the aforementioned issues.

1. if he's not calling, follow the "3-strike" rule: if you have attempted to contact him three consecutive times and he has not returned the call, simply delete his number and erase him from memory. he's obviously not thinking about you enough to call you or return your calls, so why would you waste your time thinking about him?
   
2. if he is not officially dating you, for whatever reason (wants to keep his options open, doesn't want to be in a committed relationship, doesn't believe in committed relationships, whatever), look yourself in the mirror and assess your level of "fabulosity." if you find that you are pretty fucking fabulous (which i'm sure you will), then don't invest any more time in someone who would rather you be an option than a priority.
   
   **NOTE** if he's dating/married to someone else, don't waste time thinking he's going to leave her to be with you. if he's cheating on her, what makes you think he won't cheat on you?
   
3. if he's not having sex with you, i urge you to call up a "relationship enhancement" consultant, gather some of your best girlfriends, make some killer martinis, and prepare yourself to make an investment in the best the best relationship you'll ever have - the one you have with YOURSELF. may i recommend B.O.B (the Battery Operated Boyfriend) from pure romance and pack of rechargeable batteries... it's divine.
   
4. if he's having sex with other people, read solution #3. i've been in this situation several times. the most recent time this occurred, the man in question was intimate with someone else hours (not days, not weeks, but hours) after he had been intimate with me. it's never fun to learn that the person getting up close and personal with your goodies is doing the same with someone else's - lord knows where those goodies have been, or if they're even "good" anymore (yuck!). then there's that awkward period where you have to wait for your test results, hoping and praying that nothing defiling has entered into your precious temple. once you find out that your partner has been banging someone else, CEASE AND DESIST from sleeping with him, make an appointment at the clinic, and buy yourself a B.O.B... that can do more than a man ever could, anyway (unless you're into that whole cuddling and spooning business). when you're done with it, it doesn't talk, it doesn't argue, it doesn't snore. it just goes into its drawer and sleeps until you're ready for it again. B.O.B=best boyfriend EVER!!
   
5. if he's disappeared on you, follow the solution listed in #1. i sat and waited and waited on a man to come home from abroad. after months of not hearing from him, i heard he moved back to his home town and found himself a new girlfriend. houdini forgot about me in the midst of his disappearing act. i found no reason in wasting time craving his attention when he had no intention of giving it to me.

i don't want to hear anymore excuses from men. i don't want to hear women making excuses for their men. stop talking about and be about it, people. it's not rocket science. it's about having common sense and knowing your self-worth.

~D~

the birth of a villaness

al·ter e·go - noun

1. a second self; a perfect substitute or deputy
2. an inseparable friend
3. another aspect of one's self

i am a multi-faceted creation; born from a place of weakness to provide inner strength. many may think that i just popped up out of nowhere, but truth be told, i've always been with D, gestating within her soul.

it all began when we were just tots. i would sit on one shoulder, she in her pink dress, i in my red, and that other twit on her other shoulder in the white (i never did like her much). i was the one who convinced her that hunting for tadpoles in the creek was fun, especially when looking as fabulous as she did in those mountains of rose colored ruffles and white patent leather mary janes. afterwards she looked like a minature rosie the riveter - a perfectly polished adventurer who could do it all. the seed had been planted.

i really began to take form when we were in our teens. that was a very tumultuous time for us. D was in a world of darkness, hurt and fear. she thought no one could love her just as she was. she never saw herself as i did - a simple beauty. she mistook the gorgeous undulating hills of her body as a fat, ugly waste of space. some feigned interest in her, but they only ended up crushing her fragile heart. one touched her in places she never should have been touched - i gave her the courage to speak up, even though no one believed her. one left bruises on her flawless skin, then tried to make it up to her by spouting out sweet nothings while taking her love from her against her will - i gave her the courage get up and leave the stupid mother fucker.

then she found "he who we do not speak of," the one man on the planet who could hear me, so he made it a point to shut me up. he did so by promising her a solid future in the form of a ring and a new name. all the while he'd never express his "undying love" to her physically. instead, he ignored her desires as a woman, forced her to be june cleaver reincarnate, and still proceeded to have love affairs with people she thought she could never compare to (read: star tennis player, up-and-coming model, and his xbox). he left her just before the holidays in the middle of the night with nothing, not a fucking dime, to her name. she had no where to go. no one to turn to - except for me, of course. that very night, i helped her find the strength to wipe her tears away and fall into a deep sleep, convinced that the sun would still rise in the morning, bringing a the beginning of a new stage in her life. she never cried for that asshole again.

a few days later, D stood in front of the mirror just as she was brought into the world. she stared at herself, analyzed every curve, every scar, every birthmark. she examined her face until it was just a canvas with evenly placed shapes. as she lost herself in the reflection, i felt it was time for me to burst out of the womb i had been contained in for so long. it was time for me to show D how the rest of the world saw her, whether she wanted to see it or not.

the conquests began soon after. i found a passion for hunting out my prey. the men i would meet would think they were seducing a naive little thing. behind the sweet face, charming voice, and sparkling eyes, was an animal ready to pounce, tear to shreds, and leave for the scavengers. because, in all honesty, they may as well be considered scraps after i'm done with them...

i met this fellow and all was well, until he decided to fall off the face of the earth. D was hurt by the silent rejection. i was out to seek revenge (i can't stand seeing her cry; it's heartbreaking). i knew he would call again - they always do - but this time, i was in attack mode.

he asked for a late night rendez-vous and i obliged, rushing to prepare my lair. seduction was far too easy. making him succumb to my will was like child's play. getting him to stammer truths between heavy breaths about why he disappeared (because he reconciled with his ex girlfriend) was like taking candy from a baby. i had him where i wanted him. his will was nothing to my natural drug and he quickly became addicted and greedy for more. at that point, it was a done deal. he had reached his peak and was feeling the best high he'd ever feel in his life. while he was still trying to regain his composure, i began the "clean-up process." i stealthily deleted my number from his cell phone and placed it back in his jeans. i gathered up his clothing in a neat little pile. then i proceeded to toss them out of my front door with these last words, "you've served your purpose. i'm done with you. you're dead to me. get out." i wonder what rehab was like...

soon, it hit me. i was like the black jaguar - agile, always on the prowl, solitary in nature. i am a beautiful creature who can be man-eater when provoked. i am everything D thought she could never be. i am her courage. i am her strength. i am the little devil on her shoulder. i am her inner wild child. i am her closest friend and the one who loves her most.

i am Katya.

chronicle of an epiphany foretold...

spectacular. not the first word that comes to mind when i think about me. in fact, i really don't think there's anything truly extraordinary about me. i live in an average home. i come from an average family in the suburbs. i have an average office job and am preparing to attend an average university's graduate program - it's close to home and easy to get into... what can i say? i'm not much of an over achiever.

however, if my life was totally hum-drum, it wouldn't be worth blogging about, right? so, for your entertainment pleasure, i bring tales from far and wide - stories that will make you laugh, make you cry, make you angry, make you confused. but if there is one thing i hope these anecdotes will do is make you think.

but first, a little about me. i'm a twenty-something year-old girl-next-door (hereinafter known as "D") who has been on a journey for the past two years to find her true self. after several failed relationships, i decided it was high time "she" come out to play, shaking me out of my mild mannered shell. and, boy, has she!

the "she" we speak of is my alter ego, "Katya". she's a feisty femme fatale; true to her black jaguar totem, she is a quick-witted seductress, who, when dealing with the opposite sex, takes no prisoners. fully aware of sexuality and herself, she allows no one's bullshit. Katya has made these recent years quite fascinating, to say the least...

this is about my self-creation, taking parts of D and Katya and fusing them together to become the H.B.I.C. this is about becoming the woman i want to be. this is about achieving goals. this is about learning my own self worth and not settling for anything less than what i deserve. this is about me.

my journey relies heavily on my readings and the support of my favorite blogger, my personal mentor, the professional queen b. i will be pulling references from all sources, combining them with my personal experiences, to chronicle my growth as a woman. please let it be known now that names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent...

enjoy!!

~D~