I know Crazy

After yesterday's post, I feel the need to clarify a bit. My last boyfriend was crazy- certifiably crazy- but he hasn't been the only crazy in my life. In fact, I've encountered enough Crazy that it's now one of my 'rules.' The rules are actually my standards for dating someone- they're not that difficult.

1.) Must be taller than me
2.) Must not weigh less than me
3.) Does not work with me
4.) Can not be a Mama's boy
5.) Does not bring more craziness to my life than I bring to his.

See, not that tough. The first three were the original rules, the last two I added after bad experiences. Girls, if you're dude is a Mama's boy, don't walk, RUN away. TRUST ME.

And as far as Crazy, I think I'm a Crazy Magnet.

In no particular order, why I don't date Crazies anymore:

1.) In college I lived in the Townhomes, a notorious party location. We pretty much lived up to the expectations and had weekly parties. Flip Cup Fridays were a blast- but also resulted in a serious lack of judgement sometimes. One particular evening I decided my neighbor was pretty cute. He thought I was pretty cute too. One beer lead to another, and we decided to go to my room to watch a movie. It was all very PG, nothing big and exciting happened- which was great because I had a serious case of beer goggles. (Grandma, that's when someone looks cuter after about 6 beers than they do when you're sober. Not that alcohol has ever passed my lips. No Ma'am.) Anyhoo, we ended up falling asleep at some point during the movie. In the morning, I has half awake, realized 'Holy crap, he's still here!' and promptly rolled over and pretended I was still asleep. He leaned over me, kissed my shoulder and whispered "I love you" in my ear. I wish I was making this shit up. The joke was on him though, turns out while he was snoring in my bed, someone had broken into his room and stolen his tv and Play Station 2. Whoopsie. Maybe he shouldn't have been such a creeper.

2.) I was at the bar with some of my guy friends from one of the restaurants I was working in when we met up with one of their friends who I didn't know. By the end of the night he had asked me out. He wasn't really my type, I equate my type to a kid at Christmas- all this kid wants for Christmas is a red 10 speed bike- but when he wakes up Christmas morning, he finds a scientific calculator. This guy was definetly not a bike, he was a calculator. But hey, calculators are handy and good to have around, sure it's not as cool as a bike- but a bike can't balance your check book for you. So I went out with him. One night, we were sitting at the bar chatting with a friend of his who was asking me about myself. I told him I was trying to get an internship in either Montana or Texas (at the time, I was). My date piped up, "I've never been to Texas, but I've always wanted to go. Yeah, I could live in Texas." My first thought was, "Uh, I didn't ask you to go..." but I (for once) kept my mouth shut. A few minutes later the subject of kids came up. The friend had a son, and asked me if I wanted children. I said, "Yeah, I'd like 3 kids some day." My date kinda sat back in his chair, whistled through his teeth and said, "I'll have to work harder than I thought to support 3 kids, but it's doable." SAY WHAT?!?! We had been seeing each other 2 weeks. YEAH. Crazy. I attract it like flies to shit.

3.) I dated my ex for about 9 months. Turns out, he wasn't just a white trash loser, he was an ALCOHOLIC white trash loser. Yeah. Looking back, I equate it to finding a stray dog. A mean, beaten, sick, dirty little dog. I bring it in the house, clean it up and think I'll make a lap dog out of it. Some days I had a lap dog. Some days, I came downstairs to the trash torn up, poop on the floor and got bit in the ass. I had the best of intentions, but some dogs just don't want to be lap dogs. They're too used to being kicked everytime they turn around so the take to biting first, asking questions later. I was tired of being bit so I showed the dog the door. Unfortunatly, the dog was drunk and didn't want to leave. Instead of calling the cops, I called his dad. Eventually his dad got the dog out on the porch, so I took the opportunity to lock the front door and head out the back. I grabbed my keys, called home said "I'm coming up," peeked around the corner to see if I could get my car out- I couldn't, it was parked in. So I called my pops, told him to come pick me up that I'd be in a driveway up the street. I stealthily ran through my side yard to the road and headed north about 1/4 mile and stood at the end of a neighbors driveway until Pops came to pick me up. He made the 2o+ minute drive in less than 15. At somepoint Mom had called Bro who called me, heard the story, then called the police. Long story short- Pops showed up, the dog left, Bro & Girl showed up, Cops didn't. Good thing I didn't really need them!
3 months later, I've only had him threaten suicide, tell me he was dying in a multitude of different ways, had someone from his family tell me he HAD died... it's been fun. I've only had to threaten a restraining order, block two phone numbers and an e-mail account of his to get him to leave me alone. Did I mention he was Crazy?

I just don't get it- I know I'm pretty awesome, but I don't think I'm cool enough to go crazy over.

Who knew?