Just apologize and skip to the makeup sex.

For some ungodly reason, I have a lot of male friends.  They inexplicably turn to me for girl advice, probably out of desperation more than anything, but I try to humor them...at least until they realize what a goddamn train wreck I am and abandon me to find someone better to bleach the filth of their dirty laundry. 

Old Friend/Coincidentally Ex-Boyfriend:  "My current girlfriend is having a meltdown.  I think I somehow caused it, but I don't know what I did, or how I should respond."

Me:  "The fact that you are at my apartment and I'm drinking does not bode well for this conversation."

Him:  "I don't understand women at all."

Me:  "Ew, stop feeling sorry for yourself.  That is not going to butter up your woman's snatch.  Listen--you are fighting a losing battle trying to figure out where you went wrong.  If you want to have a successful relationship, just accept that sometimes, you will have to apologize for things that you don't know or understand.  If you validate her meltdown, she can get over it faster.  In fact, you
should not be here.  You should be with her.  Probably having makeup sex by now."

Him:  "You had meltdowns when we were together."

Me:  "I'm a woman, meltdowns are part and parcel, darling.  The thing you should know is that if a woman is having a meltdown and she doesn't have any girlfriends to vent to, she will inevitably call up her male friends or ex-boyfriends to meltdown to them, and maybe one of them will come over with a six-pack and a dimebag and intentions of getting his dick wet, and they'll get supremely fucked up and end up having sex..."

Him:  (shock and horror)

Me:  "...but it won't even be good sex, because how the hell did you get so close to that guy without knowing he was so lousy in bed, and why the fuck is he sweating SO much on top of you?  And then you're just stoned as shit and you wanna pass out but halfway through him drilling you, he's taking the time to tell you--WHILE he is still inside of you--that this sexual mistake doesn't mean he wants to have you as a girlfriend, it doesn't mean anything, not that you're not worth it or anything, but he doesn't want to ruin the friendship, and you're just like, "This was ruined because you were such a terrible lay, not because I wanted to be your girlfriend," and then after it's all over, he shows up on your doorstep after you've been avoiding his calls for two months and he's crying like a bitch because he suddenly thinks he's in love with you and that he had been sooo wrong and how could he not see that you could be so great together?!  But you just look at him, disgusted, and decide you're better off with a one-night stand or a vibrator."

Him:  "Oh my God... I have to get home.  I'll text you later."

Me:  "Bring her flowers.  Or wine.  Or if you really want to make it work, diamonds."

Him:  (pausing at the door) "Did...did that happen when we were together?"

Me:  "Actually, that was right after we broke up.  You might wanna make sure your girl doesn't have your friend Greg's number."

Switching birth controls is making my hormones batshit crazy.

Due to a brief mix-up with my health insurance, I've gone off of my beloved NuvaRing for the month and I'm suddenly thrown back into having the libido of a 14-year-old boy and wanting to drink a bottle of wine and cry because I'm single and unlaid.  On the other hand, I don't have to put makeup on every morning, worry about any flirtatious conquests having sexually transmitted infections, or share said wine with anyone else.  And you know what?  I've got stacks of horror movies and free streaming porn, so fuck it.

Take that, NuvaRing.

"...in bed."

My fortune cookie from this weekend's Chinese food/tequila binge gave me a totally shallow compliment.  Like any good woman, I ate it up.  I know I'm a smart cookie (pun half-heartedly intended, it IS Monday) and enjoy compliments about my intellect, humor and wit, but let's face it - sometimes you want some cookie to come along and tell you you're pretty and popular and lots of people like you.

I don't take compliments like a normal person because I vacillate between bracingly self-deprecating and off-puttingly confident.  Even in my mid-twenties, I'm still trying to strike the right balance between humility and self-assurance when someone says something sweet to me. 

Once, a gorgeous man told me I needed more self-esteem and I told him just because I didn't reply to every compliment with "I know, right?!  I really am hot!" didn't mean that I didn't believe it.

Do I think I'm pretty?  Yes.

Am I still going to be visibly uncomfortable and blush like a dweeb when someone tells me?  Yes.

Unless it's a cookie.

- Smashy