How to Understand a Woman
A year ago I embarked on interviewing many of my female friends and acquaintances and collecting my personal emails towards writing a book about women, dating and relationships. As I have like 3 or 4 books on the go at the moment and very little time to actually write anything that is not helping me eat and pay rent, it will be quite a while before I get this one done. That is unless I stumble into a fairly large some of money (enough to keep me afloat for a whole year)…. which is very unlikely. And well, I want my blog to be the most awesome one around or at least have regular material up on it that people enjoy reading, so I thought I might publish some of it to this blog in the meantime. This part is mainly made up of emails… Names have all been changed or left out to protect identities and quite a few details have also been changed so even if you think you know who the people are, you probably don’t!! (And if you do know them by the tone of their writing then its because you actually know them well enough for them not to mind you reading about their shenanigans… so really iz a catch 22, non?…) Enjoy!
Chapter Two – The Art to Understanding Women
Women are like rubix cubes. One minute you are in their good books and the next, its like playing dodgeball with a bunch of wrenches.
The female rocks effortlessly between venomous bitch and altruistic Mother Theresa type figure almost every day of her life. This dangerous equilibrium means the male must strike when the iron is hot to ensure the woman is agreeable to spending time together. When a woman is in any of the following moods it is not a good idea to try and ask her out on a date:
The Lazy mood
You can usually find these women in any of the following places: in the DVD shop wearing a jogger suit, in Tesco buying chocolate, in the local shop buying chocolate or wine, on the phone, in the Jacuzzi at the local gym.
If you are already lucky enough to be dating this temptress, coax her with tea and offers of a foot massage. The below is an example of the typical characteristics exhibited by women when in the lazy mood:
How’s life? How did Saturday night go? Last week I stayed in bed in my PJs from Thursday night until Saturday afternoon. I only got up for DVD changes, food and toilet. I’m trying to control the chocolate binges because if I don’t you won’t recognise me when I come to visit. I had no chocolate yesterday. I just had apple crumble and custard instead. I think it’s a big improvement myself. It was funny I had to crush sugar cubes with spoons because the custard was horrible. It was hilarious but definitely a ‘be there moment’. Do you have loads of work to be doing? I’m sick of being given projects to do. Its’ probably just laziness though!
We have a bank holiday on Monday which will be good and then we’ll have reading week the next week which is where you can catch up on work and stuff. For me that translates as “WEEK OFF COLLEGE” Anyway I’m gonna go. I’ll ring u soon. PS- Any idea what you want 4 Christmas? Chocolate Santa up your street?(Hint for me: I think this is a good present)
The Extremely Drunk Mood
Drunk women can be subject to many behavioural changes such as dancing and flirtiness (in the early stages) promiscuity, (the middle stages) and the loss of bodily functions (the very late stages). The drunk woman can be a fascinating sight to behold. Rejecting good friends for no reason, fits of tears, violence and ‘falling’ are common occurrences. Women in this state are best left alone, unless to transport them into a taxi or put them to bed and place a bucket beside their bed.
The below is an example of the typical characteristics exhibited by women when drunk:
So we went to ‘Break for the border’ in town. S had driven in n said she wasn’t drinking. Well that plan went to shit after she had her first pint in like 3 months and was very comforted and attracted to its foamy, fizzy consistency. Anyway after a good few pints, I was drunk. They just kept buying rounds. After 1 was consumed, another was poured. Finally, I managed to drag my common sense from my back pocket and refused to drink my next awaiting pint. I shoved it across the bar with a clumsy, drunken gesture. S had it. She was locked!! We went to the loo and she was sitting on the floor, totally disbelieving that she was so drunk. I had been a cunning little fox and had been getting my self glasses of water. It’s a great plan!! I was still as pissed as a fart and couldn’t dance without the aid of a railing to hold me up. When we were at the bar sitting down, I just couldn’t take the non dancing and up I was as quick as a flash dancing away to my hearts content. That started S off as well. We must have looked like complete idiots. You know when your drunk and your in your own little cloudy, world and everything idiotic seems like a good idea, well its a shame you forget bout the sober people just watching with disapproving eyes. Don’t think thought that we were the only drunk one’s. P and G weren’t looking too great themselves. I don’t know how the nipple pinching started. I think they tried to pinch ours first, so what was I supposed to do. RETALITE, that’s what. I hurt them too. Now I’m just thinking “For fuck sake, Why in gods name were up pinching S’s work mate’s nipples??” Ah, seemed a good idea at the time.
The Slutty mood
The slutty mood goes hand in hand with the previous category. Women in the slutty mood, usually have more of their wits about them, but less of their morals. When women are in this mood it is a bad idea to try and get to know them. The best idea in this situation is to get their phone number and text them when they are sober – as they won’t remember you, except as one on a long list of men they seduced that night. Here is an example of how this ordinary girl may behave:
Had a very drunken night last Wednesday. Went out for L’s birthday over here. Got a new dress – looked hot. Was feeling good, was feeling great after the bottle of wine and then was driven into town sitting in front seat on someone’s knee. I swear if the cops had seen us. Couldn’t get into D2 and I think we went to the Craw Daddy. Can’t remember. Lost everyone when I went in so I sat in bathroom quite calmly until one of them needed to pee. I couldn’t believe how drunk I was. I struggled to follow them to the bar and luckily didn’t get a drink. L’s friends from Spain were there. Don’t know if you remember the name C, the really tall guy I scored. Well they were all there but I went and danced with G and scored him (the really short one) Oops. Then later I went and danced with C and scored him… double oops. Then a randomer came up and I jus scored him… triple oops. So then I was standing at the table and was knocked into it, all the drinks all over me (I was worried about a spot of wine earlier ha) and landed on face on couch. Well I tell you, I saw red. I think it was G who bumped into me but whatever snapped in me I just attacked him and had him by the neck and the bouncer had to come over. I mean I’m not violent… God. Then I was dancing on the couch and the bouncer came over again. Surprised he didn’t throw me out. Then I fought with G for the possession of a glow stick. I won of course and started hitting him wit it. Haha he didn’t like me too much anymore. Then I went outside at end of night and saw this guy and was like pointing going ‘I know you!’ and I did. It was M. He was asking bout you and said don’t be a stranger and of course he invited me back to whatever session he had going. Didn’t go. Had to wait on L to get out of her lip-locked state with S and then A going to me ‘we cud have some fun while we’re waiting’. I was like for God’s sake do I need to be anymore of a slut tonight?! So was a good night but really glad don’t see those guys often.
The Seductive Mood
Sometimes girls want to do the seducing, but men either just aren’t interested, or just don’t realise they are being seduced. When this happens a women may flirt in a strange way. She may be unkind, she may be nice, or she may choose to completely ignore the subject of her adoration. It is not unknown for men to be completely baffled to find out a women they thought hated them, actually has a huge crush on them. In other cases, it is a lot easier to discern – unless you are more concerned with a burger, as the below example shows:
After the bar closed we all went to the kebab place. It had started to rain and I kept going outside and dancing with a scarf wrapped as a turban on my head to get attention but no one cared. So then everyone left and it was just me and M. He was just enthralled by his burger which he said he had waited three months for, and I asked for a try and he said no.
That almost made me go off him. I know if you like a burger and all but a) I had no food b) I just wanted a tiny taste which wouldn’t make a difference and c) It was raining.
Anyway so M came back to mine to see my room and my paintings. (God P was right, I do come up with lame excuses to get guys to come back to mine!) So anyway we played with F, the rat, for a while and then I showed him my room and my turntables and he stayed for a good ten minutes.
I thought I was getting somewhere because I really fancy this guy! But then he left.
He was like ‘I have to be up at nine’. I was like yeah, whatever. Fine I don’t love you either. Gahh I LOVE YOOOUUUUUU! But why, you can’t leave now, the door is locked! And he was like ‘Er… its open, look’ and I was like ‘Oh. Yeah. Okay sorry.’ Then I had an awful dream that night that we kissed on the top of this huge crane above Lyon in France and then we were about to have sex and I said ‘Wait. I just want to know you’re not just messing around with me and you’re not just using me,’ and he said ‘Hmmmm, well, yeah I kind of was’ and I was like ‘Really? Well I can’t do it then’ and he was like ‘Okay’ and I was like ‘I really like you though. Do you like me at all?’ and he said ‘No, I don’t really, I prefer my burger’ and I was like ‘at all?’ and he was like ‘No, sorry’…
The Phobic Woman – Is that another spider? No wait, it’s only a daddy long-legs…
If you want to come to a woman rescue, like a Tarzan type figure, a good way to do it is to assume the role of spider remover in her life. Many woman have to fend off spiders for many boyfriend and husbandless years until someone can finally help them, so here is the part you get to play hero. Enjoy it while it lasts.
I went out to take in my washing today and when I brought it into my room and proceeded to put stuff away you will never guess what dropped out of the first skirt I picked up??? A HUGE SPIDER!!!!!! I was in shock!! So I just stood there and wondered how to trap it and put it outside, but then it hid before I had a chance and now I don’t know where it is!
And so I brought the clothes back into the sitting room, picked up the next item (a small white jumper garment), and I shook it…nothing. Shook it again… nothing… shook the sleeve, ANOTHER SPIDER FELL OUT. Smaller but not that small!! So I got a cup and put it over it and then tried to move it outside but when I was tipping the cup outside it got squashed. So anyway by then I was like SUPER PARANOID and on an arachnophobia buzz so I stormed back into my room ripped all the covers off the bed and stripped the sheets looking for Mr. Big Hairy Spider, but couldn’t find him. So then I shook the rest of my clothes and luckily nothing but you never know. And now I’m afraid to go home. I haven’t even got a room to go to where I feel safe, or even a sitting room where I feel safe, and I miss my friends. I want to go home. Or at least a boyfriend who could get rid of the spiders for me.
Lots of love,
God it’s been spider central here as well. Mum walked into her room and there was a MASSIVE one just sitting in the middle of the room like it owned the joint. What cheek!! She said the noise of it going up the Hoover was horrible. Even as I sit here and write this email I’m talking to her bout spiders. She’s just uttered the words “We’ve no chance really, there’s so many cracks in the walls”. I feel like I’m in a horror movie. Then we were all in bed last night and I heard mum fidgeting out on the landing and hear the distinct noise of a Hoover been dragged into a bedroom. I lay still. “They’re back” I gulp. So I rush out and there’s mum battling wit another massive spider while dressed in PJ’s. The comic value hit me later. The spider proved too quick so parental unit number two had to get out of bed and get it with a bit of tissue. I stayed calm but rushed back to the sanctity of my own room. Then S said she saw summit scuttle (I HATE THAT WORD) across her floor but couldn’t catch it. I’m next. I know I’m next. GULP!! So if it’s any consolation to you the spiders here are bout twice as big as yours but I suppose a spider is a spider. Anyway enough about this subject. Ps – Mum is now frantically clearing her room of clutter and saying things like “everything in this house is on the floor, that’s the problem” and “is that another spider? No wait, it’s only a daddy long legs”. Oh there’s the Hoover again . . . .
Since I’ve stopped writing bout spiders mum has said the words “tarantula”, “I give up” and “why do u never see the big ones?” I told her that I don’t kill them and it’s just bad karma coming back on her.