Single VS Taken

single vs taken
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Single is the new black… The boobs are always bigger on the other side… So many options, so little time… Whichever way you look at it, there doesn’t seem to be a clear, cut throat, most obvious way to go. Unless you’re lucky enough to go back to Pleasantville, nothing is black and white.

Being in a relationship is great. You get to validate your phone plan’s ability to send and receive an unlimited amount of cute little text messages about the nothingness that so greatly describes the details of your day… All the phone calls filled with adorable silences as you listen to each other breathe, suddenly become justified. You don’t have to have a reason to dial the person’s number. They’re your significant other and they signed up to listen to your chatter at any given time of day when they agreed to be exclusive with you, just as much as you agreed to support them in every and all dreams and aspirations that may come along.

There’s always someone to wish good morning and good night to, and you no longer have to handle your Netflix addiction solo because you’ve got your partner in crime joining you on the couch. So you wrap yourself in your security blanket which is probably accompanied by a cat for purrfect cuddlez and you drift away into Couple’s Paradise. Eventually you get tired of lugging your personal belongings and change of clothes back and forth, so you do the obvious, and move in together. Now you get to save on rent, do shopping together, cook dinner together (Yay! Fun!), drink wine together, fall asleep together, wake up to each other’s faces every day, together. Then you’ll probably be like “Hey, I’m tired of Fluffball watching us having sex every time. Let’s get him a friend!” So you get a puppy… Now you have paw prints with both Meow and Woof on your doormat to demonstrate how totes adorbs you are. Soon enough, that becomes not enough and you decide to further develop your clan by reproducing naturally. (I’m skipping the wedding bells here because I feel it would be too big of an “insert” since it’s clearly a category big enough on its own).  So now that you’re popping out babies, you finally get to put your scrapbooking skills to use and that camera that you bought for your travels that you never got to cease, can make its way out of the closet and finally do some damage control. Every second now is a chance to take a beautiful picture of your gorgeous baby and there’s only 86400 seconds in a day so you better get cracking.

With that, a different kind of fun begins. There’s no longer time for Netflix and lazy evenings by the fireplace splitting a bottle of wine with your “Bae”. Your buddies and girlfriends haven’t fully accepted the fact that you’ve entered social isolation yet, but they will soon. Even though you hardly go out anymore you still somehow don’t have any money, because duh, family life. Your furry friends are too now feeling neglected because your main concern is to make sure that your clones grow up with better views on life as you will sooner die than recreate your parents’ mistakes. “When I have kids, I will never do so and so…” You’re so amazingly bright at 17 when life seems so discriminating that you make it a goal of yours to never treat your kids as unfairly as your parents treat you. I’d also like to point out the level of hypocrisy that is going to take place when you “grow up” and unleash your views on first your younger siblings, and then your offspring. It’s almost always inevitable. But hey, you and your partner get to both put suggestions in the “Major Decisions” jar, and it’s probably going to be fun sifting through them, deciding to pick the best ones. And you thought agreeing on colors of the walls was tough…

Seems somewhat black and white doesn’t it? Seems like a template that everyone follows blindly? Ehh, it is and it isn’t. It’s a whole new world! Nothing is what it seems and while some people follow the traditional ways, others choose to lead their life more unconventionally.

I find it hard to choose one or the other. Both sides bring such compelling arguments. On one side, you have these mystical scenarios for perfect relationships coming true and making sense. I adore the idea of an old fashion lifestyle. Big happy family with eight kids, three dogs, a cat, enormous backyard and parents that die of old age, holding hands Notebook style. On the other side you have the more common scenarios of today’s generation filled with experimental stages, drunken mishaps, poor decisions, engagements that last longer than reasonable, unnecessary mind games and other retardation. I’m not saying that any of that is appealing to me. I am however saying that it is that world, today’s world, the world that is the opposite of the old fashion world that happens to be very comfortable and expects very little of you. It allows you to be selfish and alone, and to like it. It pains me to admit it that I like it. It PAINS me because ultimately, I look at the formula of LIFE, and I’m like, hey, this is logical, this makes sense, I want that… and yet… I’m still like EHHHHHH … Come to think of it, that’s a lot of work. I’d rather be selfish and do things that make sense right here and right now and for MEEEEEE….

So, for all you non-cynical assholes out there, unlike me, if you can make your relationships work and achieve life’s greatness with someone by your side, all the power to you. I’ll stay here, on the dark side and eat my cookies.

Why? One word. Organizedchaos. Everything is where is it needs to be and no one is there to judge me for it. No I don’t have too much stuff for my hair and face in the bathroom. Yes, I have “enough” of lotions and face masks. No, that hair brush isn’t the same as the other three in my pretty wicker basket under the sink. Yes that wicker basket serves a different purpose than my 4 other baskets in the closet… No I don’t need you to combine the 5 different hair conditioners into one bottle to save space! Each and every one of those has a purpose and you just don’t understand because you shave with your shampoo and you wash your hair with soap… Sure all that may seem trivial, but it adds up.

Then there’s the cuddling. Who doesn’t love cuddling? Love cuddling. Until you’re cuddling me so hard that you’re choking me. Come on now, you’ve done the diligence. You’ve shown your interest. We had sex, you choked me, I bit you, you smacked me, I spit on you, you hugged me, it’s beautiful, now move on over to the other side of the bed and let me sleep in peace. Thanks. Honesty, right?? You can’t say that though! Because that’s mean… What do you mean you don’t want to hold me all night long? But honey bunches, but bumble cakes, but but but… But I want you with me, next to me, to be a part of me all day every day….. But but but… get the fuck off of me and move over! You’re suffocating me with your love…

Can’t forget about the grooming… If you’re with someone, you probably shape things up down there. Whether your lover likes a little bit of hair or a lotta bit of hair, it requires some sort of maintenance regardless. Guess what, when you’re single, no maintenance required. You feel like shaving your arm pits today? Go for it! Not feeling it? No biggie! Guys wanna sport their Duck Dynasty hairstyle? By all means, there isn’t a girlfriend in sight to complain about it. The only person that matters in that decision making process is you! Same goes for food shopping and food consuming. Same goes for everything really. It’s so much easier to control everything around you when you’re the only one making decisions. No one is going to ask you what time you’ll be home. No one is going to tell you that they’re tired of your mashed potatoes. No one is going to nag you about anything. No one is going to interrupt reading time with conversations about what happened at work that day. No one is going to hog the remote control. No need to have the conversation about whether or not you want to keep the TV on when you go to bed or off, because one person likes silence and the other person can’t sleep without background noise. No one is going to wake you up with sexual requests. Don’t get me wrong, morning sex is great… But on MY time. Sleepy time is important time and the selfish beast shall not be bothered with the lovey dovey nonsense unless it is initiated during appropriate time frames. Must dig deep into selfish beast’s brain to retrieve allotted time frames as they are not available in the common sense category.

So there you have it. Selfish Life versus Patient Love. Some of us pick one and stick to it, and others dart in between the two relying on the intricate, constantly changing reasoning our minds provide us with.

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Surprise, I knocked you up!

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I’m pregnant.

Oh, did I forget quotes there? That’s because (while you won’t hear that phrase from me) Canadian dad-wannabe Craig Hutchinson wasn’t hearing it from his girlfriend either… much to his dismay. However, she wasn’t willing to have to issue that kind of news to him – like – ever. She didn’t want to be a mom. Conundrum? Not for Craig! Their paradoxical dynamic was waning…but somehow still sexually spunky. So, naturally, he took advantage…

…and turned their condoms into Swiss cheese.

You’d think she might have caught on to his underhanded deeds when he kept insisting she “take pregnancy tests”. She didn’t; but she did take the tests. The first one showed up negative, but the second one did not. She was shocked and he was overjoyed. Before too long, however, she got this message from him: “I wanted a baby with you so bad, I sabotaged the condoms. I poked holes in them all.”

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Now here’s where it gets tricky: Is it rape?

In court, one judge claimed that it was “sneaky and underhanded, but not rape”, while several others disagreed – saying, “Only informed consent is real consent,” and “Getting consent in a deceitful way is rape.” This is a matter that’s difficult to discern and causes clashes between genders. Men will say it’s not fair because they’re locked in to a kid-commitment if a woman intentionally “forgets” to take the pill and then “forgets” to tell him that she “forgot” until it’s too late. Women will say, it’s not the same because men don’t have to carry the kid around for nine months.

I’m no liberal femi-nazi, but come on.

It’s at least a little worse for the chick in the long run. Note that I say worse “for”, not worse “of”. If you’re a dude who’s been tricked – yeah, she’s got your seed in her belly against your will, and that’s super screwed up of her. On the moral-meter, it doesn’t matter what you’ve got between your legs. You’re an asshole for doing it to someone who trusts you during an intimate act. Unfortunately, there’s a double standard right now about whether it’s “okay” for a chick to do that and I’m not justifying that. Where everything changes, however, is in what happens after that trickery’s been dealt.

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As a dude, you can literally pack up and walk away if you want. Hell, a lot of guys do that anyway when they started out “willing” and change their minds. You didn’t sign a document agreeing to physically stay. It puts you in a poor moral position, she may end up filing for you to pay child support, and all of that’s reprehensible of her. But as a man who gets tricked, you aren’t forced to either birth or kill the thing outta your body and then face the physical, mental, and life changing ramifications either choice inevitably causes. A woman who gets tricked has to deal with the physical on top of the financial and mental elements.

A prospective mom – willing or unwilling – physically can’t just walk away from having to make that decision.

If you want to be a mom or dad, find a willing partner! Would I go so far as calling this rape? Not really. Rape is unwanted or forced sexual penetration. But I might say it’s on par with some kind of sexual assault of a different genre. I mean, this lady wanted to be penetrated; she just didn’t want to be impregnated. (Cue to hypocrite Christian choir-lecture about abstinence… because no Christians have pre-marital sex…ever.)

Anyway, they weren’t even doing so well outside of the bedroom anymore, on the verge of splitting ways, and probably just having heated hate-sex by this point. Whether you’re the garden or the gardener, deceitful conception is pretty bad; but it’s even worse when you know you’re in a screwed up relationship that’s heading nowhere. I wouldn’t want to be a product of that.

So, how’s the story end? I’m glad you asked.

Right after this chick found out she’d been knocked up, she was going to keep the kid. It wasn’t until Craig messaged her with a confession, that she called the cops, had an abortion, and subsequently got a uterine infection. Some third party commentary I’ve seen says “she did it out of spite!” and “what a bitch!”

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Maybe… but imagine telling yourself, “You can’t have an abortion because you failed at being careful. You have to deal with this,” and then realizing that wasn’t the case – that this was done to you. Would you want to have a child with someone who had intentionally deceived you? Would you want to have his offspring at all? Personally, I’d go ballistic. Actually, “ballsectomy” would be a better term, because I wouldn’t wait for the law to intervene. I’d remove his balls myself.

And what was his motive in even admitting it?

Clearly, he had to know there was a chance she might abort the kid if he had to stoop so low in the first place to turn their condoms into a colander. So what was the point when the fetus’s chance of survival was on thin ice anyway? Other than a way of feeling superior by saying, “Aha! I tricked you!”, what other point could there be in admitting (via text message, no less) to her his sneaky seed deed?

After Canada’s Supreme Court’s ruling that it was indeed a sexual assault, Craig will have a year and a half to mull that question over in jail.

xoxo
<3~A