I Dated an Assh*le

**May (Definitely) Contain Adult Language**

Shit's about to get real right now... get ready to know some personal stuff about me.

I dated an asshole.  It's not that I was oblivious to his "ass-holiness", it's just that the romanticism that plague most women took over for a tiny bit.  That YOU will be the exception.  Maybe it's just a maturity issue.  With time, people grow, right?  Sometimes yes, but most times, you just gotta get the eff outta dodge.

This post is not a man hating post however.  I knew what I was getting myself into.  It ended exactly how I had imagined it would.  The question that stirs my soul is, why does someone that I categorize as "asshole" get to me so much?  They're NOT worth it and they SHOULD be forgettable, and yet, here I am, devoting a post to said asshole.  (This isn't about you BTW...)

It's because I am slightly disappointed with myself.  I allowed this person to get under my skin.  A person that does not rank highly on my scaling of awesome-ness when compared to all the other glorious people in my life (you guys know who you are), simply got to me.  This less than stellar person brings destruction in his wake, and I ALLOWED it.  Woe is me.  

OK, so I gave in to the pity paragraph.  But no one likes a martyr, myself included.  Let's get a little bipolar and switch gears here.  Yes, said asshole got under my skin but if I had to do it allover again, you can bet your bottom dollar that I would.  As much as I'm sitting here in "Asshole 2012" aftermath, digesting the events of this torrid love affair, I admit I had a great time.

It was fun, romantic, and sweeping.  It was also painful, frustrating, and expletive laden.  But such is life.  I know I'm masochistic in that I find the pleasure in the pain.  It's incomprehensible to most but I do.  The hurt makes you feel alive.  The love does as well.  But can one pick and choose so freely?  No.  It's just good to feel.  I love that.

So yes, I dated an asshole.  But I felt.  I felt hard.  No regrets.  Just blog posts  ;)

That Hipsters Use "Knapsacks"

Living in San Francisco, I am fortunate enough for a front and center ticket of the "Hipsters Take Over The World" movement.  It's an epidemic spreading faster than mononucleosis at a horny middle school dance.  This "revolution" can be found in our daily lives, the influence is palpable...


The other day on Muni, I noticed an every day hipster.  They are as common to this city as Lindsay Lohan is to downward spirals.  I didn't bat an eye.  Tight purple jeans, check.  Compulsory plaid, check.  Worn-in gray hoodie, potential iPhone and American Spirits in opposing jean pockets, check check check.  What made me take notice you ask??

In said subject's left hand was a cloth material bandaged up as a lunch pail.  I believe the best descriptor would be to call it a knapsack.  This said Hipster (whom I'll start calling Slade* from here on out) had ingeniously fashioned a raggedy old bandana into a cute, earth-friendly, and colorful lunch knapsack.

Hipster of the day award goes to Slade as he has successfully created a new (to me and all other non-Hipsters) lunch tote that meets the rigid Hipster requirements of being non-conformists, environmentally conscious, and just plain too cool for school, but not really giving a damn that you're too cool for school... even though, you're just like, too cool... for school.


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*Slade's given name is Michael.  But that is a lame name.  So he started going by Slade in the 6th grade.  He was always quite cutting edge.