Blog note: The title refers to the comment thread on myspace. You’ll have to look there to see what the hell was so amusing.

Once you get to be my age, and haven’t managed to actually settle down into a comfortable life time commitment, you tend to have a lot of stories about breaking up, and the little lines people use when they really just don’t know what to say.

And, of course, usually being the one who is getting dumped, instead of the one doing the dumping, I’ve had plenty of opportunities to figure out what this stuff really means. So for your entertainment and amusement, here’s my list of favorite breakup lines (yes, I’ve heard every single one of these) and my interpretation of what they really meant.

Give me your favorites, and interpretation, in the comments!

I need some time on my own.
Not really, I just don’t want to date you anymore and can’t really find a good enough reason.

We’ve grown apart.
Actually, you’ve grown a lot, and I’m not really capable of growth. Change scares me.

We want different things.
You want to be with me, and I want to be with a lot of other people.

I’m just not ready to be in a relationship at this time.
Seriously, I just want to score, a lot.

I love you, but I’m not in love with you.
What I mean to say is I can’t really stand to wake up next to you anymore, but we had some good times, so I’ll keep your phone number for when I get hard up.

I need to find myself.
A friend turned me on to this great hookup site, and I’m pretty sure I can score more if I don’t have to spend time with you.

I need some space.
Stop calling and texting me. I know I told you it was fine, but when I said I was out with the guys, I was actually out looking for a new girlfriend and she wants you to stop texting me.

I just want to be friends.
I think I found someone else, but just in case, I’d like to keep you around.

It’s what’s best for you.
I’ll be out sleeping around, and you aren’t going to like it much.

And my all time favorite:
It’s not you, it’s me.
Okay, really, it’s you. I can’t stand looking at you anymore. Okay, maybe it is me. But I’m going to blame it on you anway.

It occurs to me that I’ve become very cynical. Wonder if there’s any medication for that?

Gentlemen, come here. Mistress Sabre feels the need to impart some wisdom on your asses.

I have a couple of guy friends, pretty decent sorts overall, who are on various dating sites. Which, you know, fine. But these guys also happen to be in long term relationships. Of course, that’s sort of taking away from that whole “pretty decent sort” thing, but there you go.

Fran and I generally refer to this as the “Angelina Jolie Syndrome.” As in Angelina Jolie could very well be right around the corner and a fellow would be wise to keep his options open. Because, you know, Angelina wants you.

*cough*

I’ve been mulling this over in my head a lot over the last month. You could say I’ve had reason to consider all of the ramifications of this trend, but really, let’s just not go there.

Guys, you are right, there -is- someone prettier, smarter, nicer, sexier than your girl. There always will be. And yeah, she might even want to go out with you. So go ahead, keep your options open. Do your thing. Cruise the dating sites, hell register on the trashy hook-up sites, get all freaky with it.

And while you’re doing your thing, don’t look so fucking surprised when your girl gets tired of the bullshit and starts considering -her- options. Because there is someone hotter, smarter, nicer, and more respectful than you. There are men who don’t spend their free time thinking the grass is greener in the neighbor’s yard and trying to figure out how to hop the fence with no one the wiser. Sooner or later, she’s going to realize that, and you will be history.

Believe it.

I have almost, just almost, gotten used to the fact that Tetris tends to be able to figure out what I’m thinking when I’m quiet. As we all know, quietness from my side of the table is rare. I am, in short, quite the chatterbox.

Hey, I have a lot to say!

I’ve also just about gotten used to the fact that he can also finish sentences for me, and tends to be able to understand the half human gibberish that comes out when I’m excited about something. It still makes me smile though, not a lot of people get what I’m saying.

Which is not to say he understands me perfectly, because that would be impossible. There are still communication miscues, especially when a lot of my personal inside jokes are movie quotes from movies that he’s never seen. Which, of course, explains why I find them to be the height of hilarity and he finds them to be confusing at best.

It’s all part and parcel of living together, I suppose.

What I have not gotten used to, and probably never will, is well, hell, I’m not sure how to describe this, so I’ll just tell you what happened.

The other night I was having a very vivid, very violent dream. I’m not going into details, it disturbed me greatly and I woke up in tears. In my dream, right before waking up, I turned to the woman that I had just cut down from a tree and asked, “Are people so bad because the world is messed up, or is the world messed up because people are so bad?”

It was a chicken/egg sort of question that chases its own tail and cannot be answered definitively. But when I woke, I went over and over it in my head, asking the question, trying to find the answer.

After a few minutes of navel contemplation and calming myself down, I decided to just forget it and just rejoin the world of the dreaming. I rolled over to began running through happy fields of flowers in my mind in an attempt to go back to sleep.

Just as I was beginning to enter that magical world between wakefulness and sleeping, Tetris started twitching and kicking violently at the sheets. He appeared to be having a bad dream of his own, so I rolled over to try and calm him. As I wrapped myself around him, he stopped twitching, but started talking (he doesn’t talk much when awake, but chatters his fool head off when he’s sleeping).

I tend to not put a lot of stock in what people say when they are sleeping. Our dreams are a mangled mess of images and sensory overload that mean little to anyone but ourselves. But when he very clearly said, “People are just bad,” I very nearly jumped out of my skin.

Hey, you! Out of my head!

zomg!

It’s Friday!

*happydance*

Let’s see, thus far this week my left lung has threatened to revolt and leave my body in the form of massive hacking - joy.

My kids are sniffling and sneezing and giving me the hairy eyeball for bringing my germs home - nice.

The back patio is covered in six inches of ice that is slicker than snot - fun.

The Z is firmly iced in and isn’t moving - wah.

I’m in the middle of a not-so-midlife crisis, trying to figure out what I want to do when I grow up - whee.

…

I had an epiphany of massive proportions and am ready to tackle the world - take that not-so-midlife crisis!

My beautiful and beloved first born arrives tonight for the weekend - awesome!

The federal gooberment just deposited a nice chunk of change in my checking account and I close a door to hell on Monday - oh joy of joys, the end is at hand!

I had the most wonderful Valentine’s Day evah - bliss!

I saw beauty in the ice and snow for the first time since childhood - wow.

And, once again, it’s Friday!

Some time ago, I wrote about serendipity, and about how things were starting to fall into place in my life. And, as I said then, my life has always been a series of threes, so I knew something else might be on the horizon, but I didn’t know what it would be.

I certainly didn’t expect what happened next.

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While sitting on the back patio Friday night a conversation came up regarding feminism. It was a brief conversation, but it occurred to me that even in 2006 there are still so many misconceptions on what feminism is, and what it is not.

I can’t speak on behalf of the entire movement, and I most certainly can’t speak on behalf of the 3rd wave (what with me being just a wee bit too old to be one of those fierce little bitches, Goddess bless ‘em), but I can speak for myself.

Might I suggest stopping here, taking a bathroom break, getting coffee, and then coming back to read? Get comfy, this is going to be a long one.

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We’ve all either experienced it, heard about it, or done it ourselves. You know what I’m talking about. The completely insane things that people do after a breakup.

For your reading pleasure, a list of the 20 most whackjob things to do to earn your spot as the worst ex in history. Gender is used interchangeably people, don’t get your panties in a wad.

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This was created specifically in response to a lot of blogs I’ve been reading on myspace, but I figured I’d put it out here as well just to see what you all think about blogging in an open forum with the intention of dating by creating a false vision of oneself. This applies to myspace, Live Journal, MSN Spaces, all of them. Thoughts?

So here I was perusing profiles, as I am wont to do when I am horrifically bored, and I click through a few that may be of interest, or at the very least provide for good blogging fodder. As always, I am not let down. As I see a trend beginning to form, I narrow my search to a specific group of people. No, I won’t tell you what those parameters were, don’t ask. The lovely Goddess knows what got this all started, I’m sure. I’m also sure she’s not telling the likes of you.

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So as I’m sitting in the bar the other night, watching a parade of very pretty men go by, a friend says to me, “Oh jesus, you need a date.” I laugh, say no, maybe just some random sex, but I kid because I’m not that type. Well, as long as my stock of batteries stays fresh, that is. What?! You do it too, shut up!

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